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[21 Dec 2006 | Thursday]
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EXPLETIVE INCLUDED ISSUE 10 - LAST DAYS
Category: Blogging
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damn being far to busy and all its ramifications!!!!
Anyway here we are a day late but still offering the same blog addiction you have come to expect. a little different this week as we have our first issue of returns with some of the fan favourites back to marvel you again. Not only that but we have our first comic strip entry and the return of a dead friend.
This will actually be the lats issue of EI for the year but we will be returning in 2007 witha big bumper issue with double the normal entries and three themes! you can submit under any one or even all three if you feel so inspired so you get even more chance of getting Included.
So until the new year enjoy this weeks offerings and have a good christmas from the whole ei crew
For those of you interested in submitting for next weeks issue as always send all entries to expletiveincluded@hotmail.co.uk
Next Weeks Theme - Resolution, New Beginning or Awakenings |
Med{J}ium- Jay
Missing time- Norm
Kevin Freakin: True Hollywood Story - Sam Freedom
Dog Day Afternoon - Brian
Letting Go - Sherm
My Last Day - Kristie Lynn
Guess Whos Back From The Dead?
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Throughout history there had been many thoughts on how it would happen: humanity delusioned robots rebelling against their creators, invading aliens bent on the harvesting of blood, and the most recent theory of a soured planet lashing back after centuries of neglectful torment, but no. What had caused this once thriving, breathing celestial body to now lay in chaotic silence on the brink of destruction? It was me and me alone. Solely through the actions of myself this planet had now arrived at its final days in existence. I had accomplished what many of my now unequal peers had scoffed at the notion of merely a scant nineteen years prior. I had done my job and I had done it well.
Though only being my job, it was still a tough pill to swallow. This had, after all, been the only conscious home I knew. Having been incarnated to this world, I was temporarily without knowledge of my past. It was not until my Earthly form reached the human period of puberty that I was able to recall my time before being birthed. Many were opposed to these methods, as a child raised in the life of a human could not be trusted to interpret the memories accurately. We had tried once nearly two millennia earlier, but the unit sent had not been properly prepared for how to deal with the interpretations of other humans. Seeing the first mission to be a catastrophic failure, it was decided that we must find an alternative method of action, but that proved over and over again to be too difficult a task. This had been a topic of much debate spanning many years before it was finally decided we had no choice but to attempt the measure once again. So, I was clonally bred. My father was the same man as his father before him, and his before that.
After several cloning generations of studying and learning and preparing for this leap into humanity, I was finally deemed to be ready, but I certainly wasn't. All the tests, all the studies, all the years of massive preparation could not ready any being for the complete and total immersion into thought one feels at the instance of sudden life. The immensity of such freedom to feel. Though the memories that flood over my mind in every waking second of my ever ending life span over nearly eight hundred years, I can say in absolute honesty that those most cherished are the twelve blissful years spent here fully ignorant of my looming purpose.
I shall miss it. I'll miss running in bare feet across the dew-covered grass. I'll miss the feeling of warmth a loving family provides. I'll miss the smell of midnight. I'll miss the choosing. I'll miss the sun setting so gently into the evening and the sun rising into the sky. Isn't it funny how the sun would choose today of all days to rise so perfectly? It's almost like it knew today would be its last chance to proudly shine down. I served my life's purpose perfectly. Today is not a day for perfection. |
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Greetings Friends,
It is with great sadness that I must announce the disappearance of "Dr.
Kev" (Kevin's Freaking [random word here]) from the MySpace blogosphere.
In relaying this news, I've taken great care in my choice of words. This
was not a deletion, but a "disappearance." But how can I be so
sure? Because I have seen this!!!
That's right, this bastard knows no bounds! This picture
is undeniable proof that not only has the Grinch stolen Christmas, but he has
also stolen Kevin! And he will stop at nothing! He already stole Je
Maverick this past year. Who's next? Xanthan? You?
Me?!
I know it sounds preposterous but how else do you explain that
picture? Photoshop? HA! Look at how perfect that
neckline is... do you really believe such a perfect neckline could be done by
photoshop? I'll bet you do, but that's just part of the propaganda... part
of the lie they want you to believe! I don't even know who
"they" is this time, but those who would tell you that the Grinch
isn't real are the same bastards that tell little schoolchildren that Santa
isn't real. AND THEY LIE! Just look here!
Well, let me tell you somethin', Mr Grinch! I know you're
out there! And I know you're listening! I will find you and free
Kevin BEFORE Christmas even if it means I can't go to the bathroom or rub my
genitals until then! And if you knew how much I love to rub my genitals,
you'd be quakin' in Kevin's boots right now!
But just in case you think I'm bullshitting you, motherfucker,
just take a look at who I've got on my side....
BETH!
No, not "Dog, the Bounty Hunger", Duane Chapman, but
his wife, Beth! He's only in all of her pictures because, like a shark
must keep moving, she can't stand still or her breasts strain her back.
BUT WAIT!! That is why you should be worried, Mr. Grinch! Because
your last moments are going to be spent being crushed by the hugest pair of
breasts on earth! Wait, that doesn't really sound so bad, does it?
Ok, well then wait til you have to deal with...
LELAND!
That's right, Dog's son, Leland, will accompany his mommy and he
will punch you, first, with his toothpick arms! And even though it won't
damage you, it will maybe hurt your feelings! BUT WAIT!! Never mind
Christmas... do you REALLY think that, having stolen Kevin, either I, or anyone
else, is going to let you off so easy? NO WAY!
Saving the best for last, I want you to see who I have
located to help me hunt you down so that I can start going to the bathroom and
rubbing my genitals again....
Cindy Lou!
That's right! After Leland punches you with his toothpick
arms and Beth smothers you with her back-breaking breasts (say THAT 10 times
fast!), Cindy Lou is gonna melt your heart! And how ya gonna like THAT
bitch?
Listen, Grinch, I can hold off going to the bathroom for months
but rubbing my genitals? One week tops... so just give back Kevin
now because I am not going longer than 1 week! I can promise you that!
And Kev, if you can read this... hang in there buddy! You
are not forgotten and you will not be left behind. Unless, maybe... you
ARE the grinch and have just been wearing a Kevin mask this whole time.
Hmmm... no... no, not possible. Hang in, Kev... help is on the way! |
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The sun was well up, morning light streamed through the window and across the old man's bedsheets, adding reddish gold bands to the white and blue patchwork quilt. Rhythmically clicking paws on the hardwood floor preceded the dog's appearance, dutifully carrying a single worn houseslipper in his mouth. Placing the dust and drool covered slipper at the sleeping man's head, the dog then sat looking at his master, and sneezed. The old man arose, patted the dog on the head and walked unsteadily to the kitchen to make his breakfast.
They had been together since he retired from the auto plant, constant companions and best friends. They consoled each other in the lonely days after his wife died unexpectedly, a year after he had been pensioned off. 16 years now they had followed each other through this house, shadowing each other's movements, just the two of them until, recently, a new family moved in next door. He would let Buddy run and get petted when their young girl came home from school each day. The child was enamored of Buddy, she took special care to scratch behind each ear, just the way he liked it, in return he would follow her all the way to her front door, playfully circling her as she walked, prodding her with a cold, wet nose until she knelt, giggling, at her door and gave him a big hug. He would then back up a step, give his signature sneeze then turn and trot faithfully back home.
The call from the veterinarian had cut into the old man like a cold, steel knife. Buddy had cancer and there was no cure. As much as it tormented his master, Buddy would have to be put to sleep. After much soul-searching he had made the appointment for today. It would be Buddy's last day on earth, but he had resolved that it would be a good one.
After completing his morning routine of newspaper reading and watching his favorite morning show on the television, the old man took Buddy to the park, a favorite outing for both of them. He let Buddy have the run of the park, chasing ducks and sniffing at everything, they stayed until well past noon. Returning home exhausted, Buddy curled up at the foot of the recliner and was soon fast asleep. The old man looked down at his sleeping friend, glanced at the clock and softly wept as the appointment with the vet grew ever closer.
Buddy awoke to the sound of the school bus whooshing by the front of the house before creaking and groaning to it's scheduled stop at the end of the street. Buddy nudged the old man's knee with his head but he did not stir. He licked at his master's hand but the cold, still flesh wouldn't respond. Turning, Buddy went through the pet door and outside.
The little girl was happy to see Buddy as usual, they played out their little game but this time, as the girl went inside her house, Buddy followed, sitting quietly by the front door. "Momma!" the girl called out, "can you go next door? I think something is wrong." |
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Would you want your last day on earth to be in agony? Would you want your last goodbyes to ache with every syllable? Would you want the phrase, "At least she's out of pain" to be how they will remember you?
Some of my patient's limbs are rotting away from their body. Others have bed sores so deep that you can see bone through the flesh. Many are crying out in pain as we helplessly make them as comfortable as possible. Most are disappearing, literally, before our eyes as amputation claims much of their mobility and dignity. The ones who can no longer speak look at me with fervent eyes searching my face for a sign that it will get better. I know the answer is no, and in fact that it will most likely get worse but I smile reassuringly anyways.
Wives grasp their husbands hand as he moans for some sort of pain relief. Daughters put cold washcloths on their mother's forehead to try and fight the fever that is raging from infection. Sons try to stay strong as their father cries in front of them and yet all of them can't let go of their cherished loved one. Their love so blinds them that they are oblivious to what is happening before their very eyes.
I want to shake them awake. I want them to feel what my patient, their flesh and blood, is feeling if only for a minute. For them to realize that they are already dead. All that's left is a shell of pain and a life once lived.
Every week I look at some of my patients and wonder if I'll know when it's time to let go. But more importantly—will my family know when to let go. Everyone of importance to me is well aware that I do not want to ever be on any life extending treatments—be it dialysis, oxygen or life support, but when it comes time to tell the doctor, "No", will it be just that easy? Will my wishes be honored although they know it will mean the end of my life? When faced with my own impending death will I suddenly have a desire to see my daughter's smile every day that I can even if it means living a life of suffer?
I can only hope that that decision is taken out of everyone's hands. That my death is a sure thing not a haunting end on the horizon. |
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My Last Day will be like all the others.
I will continue ignoring people and those around me.
I will go on destroying Mother Earth.
I'll take it all for granted.
Every smile,
every rose petal
will look as it always does.
I'll wake up and curse not having 5 more minutes in bed.
Who knew what I could have done with those ticking moments of time...
But I had no idea.
Babies laughter will sound the same
and all the colors will blend.
I never noticed them anyway.
My final sunrise
My final sunset
Eyes cannot tell the difference.
My last day will be like all the others.
Even if
I was given just one more hour...
I would waste that too.
Because who knew?
My Last Day is just another day. |
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Yes folks you just can't keep a good blogger down and as if by magic (or at the very least a new email address) kevin has returned so why not go over say hello and welcome him back. he is currently reposting some of his blogs from the year but promises to be up and running at full speed soon
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Next Issues Theme - Resolution, New Beginning or Awakenings
To get into next weeks issue of expletive included send your entries to expletiveincluded@hotmail.co.uk |
-------BIG NEWS------
For those that have not heard EI is branching out and in the new year there will be twice as much for you to read. Expletive Included will continue to come out every Tuesday and on Thusdays there will be the brand new The Writings On The Wall - a blog magazine exclusively for poetry and prose. It will feature 3 new regular bloggers from EI as well as your submissions each week.
check it out here or read more about it here
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4:11 AM
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79 Comments - 76 Kudos
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[19 Dec 2006 | Tuesday]
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A Day Late
Category: Blogging
Due to the christams period and what not increasing my weekly things to do this weeks ei will be coming out tommorrow sorry for any delay
-The EI Team
11:30 PM
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20 Comments - 27 Kudos
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[15 Dec 2006 | Friday]
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AN OPEN CHALLENGE
Category: Blogging
Well it seems that a few things are happening all at once that seem completely unrelated but me being me has fopund a way to link them all together for no reason of any real consequence beyond my own amusement.
the first thing
First of it would seem that the rampant adult harry potter fans/convicted illers in need of love have finally caught up with Kevin freakin of pointless banter and his account is slowly being wiped out.
it is still up in the air over whether he will restart and rebuild but he will be missed by many if he doesn't im sure
the second thing
the bloggers union is through talking how its going to do things and is getting up and running! for those of you not entirely sure what i am on about i will explain. there used to be a group called the top bloggers group (a name coined before it ebcame a term used to insult/group together/ degredate people) that got deleted and rather than just start again the guy behind the group aaaron decided to take some time to discuss what would be best for the group and after a good few weeks fo discussion the new group is go and missing one thing
members
so if you read blogs, write blogs, like blogs or like discussing blogs go check it out as it is a great resource.
The third thing
ei so far is kind of low on entries this week, which really effects few people but me but it did lead me to come up with this
so how does one combine the three?
its time for a contest and here is what you have to do
Why is kev being deleted?
i want you to create the reason for this loss of a blogger and the best three will get printed in next weeks EI as a little tribute to kev
so i want to know who can come up with the most fascinating/out there/hilarious/pop culture laden story of kevs deletion
and to start you off heres mine i posted earlier
he seems to be disappearinga piece at a time almost as though he where to somehow look at his hand and it no longer be there (which really effects guitar playing) or maybe glance at a family picture that he is no longer in.
my theory is that he has somehow travelled 30 years back into his past and accidentally seduced his own mother causing him to be eeked out of existenace (yes i said eeked don't judge me people im talking science here).
some sort of cosmic irony for his constant degragation of micheal j fox movies! (the secret of my success rocks and i dare you to defy that!!!!!!)
until tom himself informs us of the goings on i would like to pass a motion to ahve this become the official 411 on kevs situation
post all entries in this thread over at the bloggers union group
so have a go and tell everyone you know to ahve a go aswell don't forget to also check in and read others entries
-The EI Team
3:34 PM
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15 Comments - 30 Kudos
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[13 Dec 2006 | Wednesday]
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EXPLETIVE INCLUDED ISSUE 8 - Is It My Imagination?
Category: Blogging
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We got alot of entries for this weeks issue and i was glad that the references to imagine by John Lennon where kept to a bare minimum. Not that I have anything against the dead beatle (he is easily more talented than ten of me) i just really hate cliche.
coming from the single, overweight, comic book nerd that lives on the internet!
This has actually been one of my favourite topics for ei so far and the entries have been fantastic and while i would usually do a better intro than this i have actually written more for this isue than i usually do and am running out of time on my lunch break so i will just steal norms bit and leave you with a quote
Logic will take you from A to B, imagination will take you anywhere
A Noprize To The First Person To Guess Who Said That?
For those of you interested in submitting for next weeks issue as always send all entries to expletiveincluded@hotmail.co.uk
Next Weeks Theme - Last Day On Earth |
Imaginary Moments- Jay
A Terrible Thing To Waste - Norm
Imagination Station - PJ
The Mother Of Imagination- Ally
Imagining Me - Heather
True Imagination - Kit Kat
Best Blogs Of 2006 - Mysimple Mind
Will Entrikin - Interview |
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Everyone knows that our brains, and our eyes can play tricks on us. Now, can it do that to multiple people at once in the same exact way? It's an odd thought I know, but wouldn't it make sense that if your eyes can interpret things in a way that others could do the same.
It was a dark, very dark night. Marques, Bobby, and I were outside doing what we always did on boring weekend nights. There we stood only two at a time under the lamp post in Bobby's yard, we were sparring. Most people don't understand the notion of sparring, but simply put, for us it was the thrill of fighting knowing at the end you won't be shot, jailed, killed, or even shamed because you're amongst friends. All for the rush. Anyways....
There we stood under the lamp post. Bobby and I were just finishing a round of going at it and then we heard a voice. I don't even remember what the voice said. We were all a little stunned by it and looked around to see where it came from and there was nothing in sight. Then from under the lamp post that sat adjacent to ours on the other side of the street a small woman stepped forward.
She said her name was Tina and she lived down the street. She was a smaller woman, roughly 36 or 37 I'd say. She said she had hopped out of the car driving with her crazy husband because he was threatening to kill her. She walked down the street, saw us, and thought she could duck where we were for a while. We all stood around and let her talk a little more. Then she took a liking to Bobby, or rather he took a liking to her and the fact that she seemed willing.
She kept talking about her crazy husband and his gun for a while and then tides turned. She flirted with Bobby and talked him into going into a more secluded area. They started talking and she convinced him to come to her house so they could "do things". I on the other hand, and this may sound like I was "blocking", wasn't having that shit. I told him, "Mufucka, you can fuck her if you want, but do that shit in the yard, your room, or them bushes. I ain't letting you go too far up outta my sight. Fuck that crazy bitch and her house". He didn't want to listen to me, but I looked at that bitch with the death stare. She decided it was in her best interests to let that shit die.
He gave her his number. She walked away. She hadn't even made it off the block, we glanced back, she was nowhere to be found. Never called and didn't live where she said she did.
Was she real, or just in our imaginations?
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"Imagination is too powerful to remain stagnant."
- me
I know, I know; I did the quote thing last week, but imagine I didn't, ok? I really did just make up that quote, but a) like most quotes I say, someone else probably already said it and b) it is actually how I honestly feel. I like how last week we did the topic of "regret" (which I feel is an unnecessary emotion) and this week we are doing "imagination" (which I feel is essential to one's life).
What I mean by "imagination is too powerful to remain stagnant", is really that everyone has an imagination. Imagination is inside of every single person and to say you lack imagination is to really say you purposefully suppress your thoughts, because imagination is: much too powerful to be silent, much too strong to stay still, and much too constant not to be present.
I have said this next thing to a few people and it is my serious opinion, Peter Pan is the best story to ever be told. My reasoning behind this is not only is it just a great, very well-written story, not only does it foster one's imagination, not only does it properly use the medium of entertainment to encourage both children and adults alike to think and feel, but it also is just such a terrific potential catalyst to the creation of so many other great stories in the future. That's the real amazing quality of Peter Pan, in my opinion. It does so much to fuel imagination and perpetuate the honesty of thinking.
FYI: "Finding Neverland", the movie based on J.M. Barrie writing Peter Pan, happens to be my favorite movie because, to me, it really shows the story behind the birth of imagination.
I suppose I'll leave you with another quote. This one's a little lighter. It's from Futurama.
"That's a complete load!"
"Nothing's a complete load! Not if you can imagine it!" |
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Twenty-some odd years ago I walked on the moon. I unearthed King Tut's tomb. I defeated Skeletor and Mumm-Ra. I out boxed Ivan Drago and Mike Tyson. I drove Kitt and the General Lee. I even won the Super Bowl, as well as the World Series. All that happened Twenty-some odd years ago.
Thanks to the power of my imagination, I've accomplished all of this and I don't even have one single trophy to show for it. I have something better. I have Memories. Just the word imagination itself makes me click back to my childhood, as if it were the imagination station. That's really where it all is.
We can pretend to be grown-ups. We can now resist the temptation of the playground slide. We have careers and children and responsibility. We can use big words and wear fancy clothes, but deep down we really wanna jump on that slide and shout out a much needed Wee!
As this world is becoming faster and smaller, we need to hold on to some things and this is one of them. We need to remember what truly made us who we are today. It wasn't Mrs. Levin's fifth grade Algebra class, or Mr. Glassman's seventh grade Social Studies. They helped shape a part of you, but not the core. The core of you lies inside of that child you've left behind.
Remember letting a friend tie you to a tree, so you can escape? Making snow forts? Tossing a penny into a fountain and believing Duke would call and ask you to join G.I. Joe? What about the countless times you fell off your bike trying to imitate Evil Knievel?
I did all of these things, when I wasn't busy winning Super Bowls, and here I am Twenty-some odd years later still talking about all of it. Maybe I live in the past too much, or maybe my imagination just affords me that luxury. Either way, next time I pass a slide it's on. |
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It's nearing Christmas and many are rushing here and there to finish (or begin?) shopping before the looming day of December 25th.
When I was younger, that wasn't so. At least, for my family it wasn't.
There wasn't much money in my family back in the 60's. My mom held 3 jobs to support me and my 3 siblings. And the wages were a joke. But Mom had Imagination.
All through the year, she sewed many of our clothes. And she made the blankets for our beds. She saved every one of those wooden Clark's spools. Remember those?
At Christmas, we would unwrap the best presents.
My brother got a 5 ft. long wooden train (made from wood spools). Each train car was painted a different color. Mom had even crafted train tracks, stop signs, and crossing arms from cardboard. All painted to look look the real thing. We couldn't wait to play trains!
Me and my sisters were lucky, too. Mom made the neatest dollhouse out of boxes. For Christmas, we would get furniture to place in it. Pink painted sofas, and denim carpets to line the living room. And curtains to hang throughout. I loved that house.
Mom had imagination.
I remember one year, the furnace went out. We didn't have a fireplace. So Mom had it replaced and saved the giant box it came in. After Thanksgiving, she started working on the box. She covered it in a crepe paper with a brick pattern on it. On Christmas morning, we had a fireplace (with fire-shaped cardboard in the middle of it), and stockings with all of our names on them.
Mom could have felt despair at the money situation, but she didn't.
She could have borrowed money, but she didn't do that either.
We could have had nothing, but she didn't let that happen.
She looked within her imagination and we never went without. |
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"Live out of your imagination, not your history."
Stephen Covey
All too often people get caught up in the cannot rather than the possibilities. Our imaginations live like a fire within us, and we must decide what we will allow our inner child known as imagination to bring forth.
Some of the greatest inventions and places in the world, have sprung forth from the imaginations of one who did not let the "can nots" prevail. Walt Disney had to claim bankruptcy before he became famous with a mouse. JK Rowling was a woman with a napkin and a character. Michaelangelo Bounarotti was a mere artist in debt to the Church. And yet, they are unmistakably known throughout the world, for setting their imaginations free.
"Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world" ~ Albert Einstein.
Being a writer, often my thoughts run away with me. I live in the world around me, but I also live and interact in my head. I have story characters who sit in my thoughts and weave tales of fancy. I have poets and bairds singing their lyrics of lore. I have villains lurking in the corners, waiting to strike me when I am quietly unsuspecting. I even have a few cartoon characters frustrated with my stubborn need to ignore the knowledge I seek, in order to bring them to life on screen. I replay conversations in my head, and my stories unfold of their own accord. I am merely a narrator to my thoughts.
When I, Heather, try to step in and direct, the plays dull and the can nots return in their mobster ways. Can nots try to tell me that the world will not appreciate my creations and my characters, mt many varying moods, and my southern voice. The can nots try to push away the will of my words, and I am then faced with the boulder known as writers block. My characters and bairds go on strike and I am left alone with the silence in my brain. Lost in my frustrations and alienations of the friends that are my words. Locked away by the can nots.
It is time to let go of the can nots. They are unwanted voices in the streams of lyrics that flow through my mind. I may not be able to hear the music, but I see the lyrics. I may not follow convention, but the rogue poet is still here. I may not believe the tales that they tell me, but I should belioeve them enough to write down what they tell me.
Can nots are the grays in my lyrical mind's tapestries. While we all need light and darkness for the hinting of depth and shadows, to allow they gray to take over brilliant blues, sharpening reds, and explosive yellows of our imaginations, is a travesty I do not want to be responsible for any longer.
So, I wonder how long will my characters let me prepare and sit and talk about releasing them onto the world before they take over? My only hope is, the gray I let creep in for so long, doesn't take too long to clear out, and inadvertently took away my imagination's shine.
"We imagine what we desire; we will what we imagine; and at last we create what we will.'
— George Bernard Shaw |
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As an adult, we tend to lose our sense of imagination. Or rather, our ability to imagine. I am not one of those adults, perhaps it is due to some underlying mental conditions, but I'm not sure. I honesty think that I'd be imaginative anyway, as I live in a fantasy world and have even before my diagnosis. But though I imagine, I know that what I may daydream about is not real. I know that a conversation I have did not truly take place because that conversation existed with no one but myself and my mind. However, I have thoughts, memories, from when I was younger. I use to imagine I could fly. Now, I'm a logical person and I know that people can't fly, however, my imagination was so strong, the memories so vivid, I have actual memories of flying around my living room. How is that possible? Can we actually teach our minds to remember things that are not real? Well, yes, yes we can.
I know of someone who parked their car in a field with my step sister in law and they got out. Her friend then proceeded to set the car on fire, later claiming it was stolen and getting a payout from her insurance when it was found burnt to the ground in a field. She told the story of the car theft and arson so many times, that she actually believed it had happened. She IMAGINED that someone else did it, and her mind and memory have made it so to her. Now, my step sister in law knows the truth, for she was there, but her friend actually doesn't remember her presence or that act of arson on her own car. The human min is pretty amazing, isn't it?
Sometimes I like to imagine that my childhood was different. I think about doing things with my dad, pretty much the same stuff we did when he was around, but in my mind I'll imagine being older, after he left us. It's comforting to imagine. It is not just a fanciful act, but I think that it is a way for us to keep a little bit of our sanity. You see, you cannot change the past, but you can change how you perceive it. Perhaps that is why people in bad relationships stay with their partner, they don't remember how bad the past has been. Perhaps they've only remembered the good stuff, or perhaps they've IMAGINED it differently. Or what about people that say they remember infancy? I'm not talking toddler hood, but as a newborn. We are not set up to remember our birth or the year or so afterward, my theory is life is too damn good and we'd never be happy, but I'm sure there is a true natural reason for the memory lapse. People who say they remember it are lying. But, what if they aren't lying to themselves? What if they have imagined infancy, and taken stories they've heard and turned those into memories? If they truly believe they remember it, are they lying? It's like I said earlier, I REMEMBER flying, though I know I did not, but I remember doing it. If I told you I flew around my living room when I was about 5 or 6, would you believe me? Of course not. You'd think I'm nuts. But I'm not crazy, it's just that over the years, I've conditioned my mind to believe this, and so it does. The mind is a complex thing, but yet, on some levels, is oh so simple! Try it sometime. Think of something, anything, make it somewhat realistic if possible, and write it down and keep it somewhere. Then focus on that. Dream about it, think about it, believe it. I guarantee after a while, it will become not imagination, but reality |
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A long time ago on a website far far away (star wars reference so take a shot people) there was a top 20 ranking of bloggers that became a little caught up in drama. the biggest tragedy of this is that the website where it was being held was often overlooked and people juts went there for the rankings, or equal amounts of people avoided it because of the rankings. It really was a shame because the rest of the site was actually an incredibly useful tool for bloggers with loads of pages of links, guides and forums that would be of use to any blogger big or small.With the demise of the top bloggers group due to a still unknown reason (although i ahve always suspected that aaron just got drunk one night!) it seemed the website may go the way of the dodo, dodi and diana (yet dido lives on).
Well dave the sites creator, moderator, slave has done a massive rework and there is a whole new Mysimplemind site up and running that is better than ever and gets bigger everyday. You need to sign up to really take advantage but its all free and takes less than a minute and the only detail you need is an email address. There are blog lists, guides, forums and loads more going on one thing inparticular
The Best Blogs Of 2006
This is a contest where ist not about a bloggers body of work but an individual blog from any part fo the year, with over a dozen categories with which to place them there is only one thing missing from the proceedings
YOUR VOTES
so go check it out, register and nominate a few blogs that you have enjoyed reading this year |
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So myspace is full of wannabe's, sexual preadtors, semi celebs, attention seekers and emo kids right? Well don't believe everything you read or here on fox news because myspace is not only a place where glamour models come to find an audience its attracting a new kind of client. Writers are starting to flood into myspace to develop their audiences, both big names promoting new books and the next generation of writers trying to develop audiences and get ther name out there. On top of this pile of future novelists is a guy who may be the next big thing in writing who can point his finger at all the newbies and scream "i was here first"
and if you don't belive me ask him, he was the one that told me!
my toughest challenge with this interview was not as much getting the answers (although note to future editors he does like to push a deadline) but finding a pic of will with a top on! sorry ladies(and rav) but i found one and just because he happens to be intelligent, talented and much prettier than me i went with a camp one!
So who is this will guy anyway? is he really going to take the book world by storm? and if so how exactly is he using myspace to do it? why don't I let him tell you
Why Did You Start Blogging?
There were a lot of reasons. The main reason for MySpace and blogging was my writing; I'd long been seeking a way to find an audience, and suddenly, there it was. At first it was an exercise in networking and attracting an audience, and it blossomed from there to become a way to find people to read about topics I cared enough to write about. I've kept that attitude, and I think it shows; I really care about the topics I write about, and it has renewed my original passion for writing.
Were there any bloggers/writers that influenced you at the start?
There were lots, sure, though, funnily, only a couple were MySpacean. The biggest was Neil Gaiman, whose blog I found in 2000, when he was writing about his novel, American Gods. Through Neil, I found the Nielsen Haydens, Will Shetterly, and Stephen Brust, among others. I also discovered the Magnetic Fields, Daniel Handler, the Gothic Archies, and lots of other cool and interesting things I'd never heard of.
When I found MySpace, there were two people who ultimately inspired me to start my own. The first was a girl named Kate, whose blog I read regularly, and the second was AwesomeZara (who has since both blocked me and jumped the shark, which is sad, but que sera).
Who are the bloggers/writers that influence you now?
There aren't any bloggers who influence me now. I'm aware of what a lot of other bloggers are doing, but find I'm rarely doing the same thing. There are lots of people I read regularly, of course, some on MySpace and some not. I think I have different goals from most of the other writers on MySpace.
Where do you hope your blogging will lead?
This is what I'm really interested in. Pushing the medium harder and farther than it's yet gone.
My own blogging? I just want to keep writing about things I care about and keep finding new readers who enjoy those things, too. I want to keep entertaining people, and keep informing them sometimes, too. Think Tila Tequila but with a point and you get a bit of an idea. Think Bono with words. Ultimately, I want to get into publishing and feature production, and then into politics on a global scale.
Total global domination, really. Because, seriously, can you think of a better man to rule the world?
Blogging overall? I think blogging is going to become bigger and more important than anyone yet realizes. I think, some day, some blogger or other is going to break a major news story. I think that someone's blog is going to win a Pulitzer. And I think we'll realize how blogging is going to go hand-in-hand with harnessing the "information superhighway" and all that. Twain once said that a lie can make it halfway 'round the world before the truth gets its pants on, but I think blogging is going to help the Internet not just make the truth faster but also more pervasive. Misinformation will still be a problem, but when you can Google or Wiki just about any topic from your own hip, it at least makes the truth easier to access.
What is it about the medium that keeps you here?
Its yet-untapped potential.
whats the best thing about being a blogger?
My readers. They're the most intelligent, respectful, civil, and interesting people I know. Not to mention: sexy.
where do you look for blogging topics?
I don't. I've got plenty to talk about without actually looking. It's called the gift of gab, and I think I got a couple other people's ration of it, too.
what do you look for in bloggers you read?
The desire to really do something with it. Something interesting and entertaining and worthwhile. Talent. Grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Enthusiasm and intelligence.
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-------BIG NEWS------
For those that have not heard EI is branching out and in the new year there will be twice as much for you to read. Expletive Included will continue to come out every Tuesday and on Thusdays there will be the brand new The Writings On The Wall - a blog magazine exclusively for poetry and prose. It will feature 3 new regular bloggers from EI as well as your submissions each week.
check it out here or read more about it here
Add it to your friends and subscribe |
4:53 AM
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[08 Dec 2006 | Friday]
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EXPLETIVE INCLUDED PSA
Category: Blogging
The Writings On The Wall
In case you have missed it In January a new magazine is being launched with the same idea as Ei called The Writings On The Wall. TWOTW is exclusively for poetry and prose and with a new magazine comes a new team of regular bloggers contributing each week. So allow me to introduce to you
Our First Poet
-The EI Team
4:58 AM
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