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Thursday, February 17th, 2011Friday Funnies: The New Civility
Friday, January 28th, 2011I have no idea if the following is for real. But ha ha! It’s all over the ‘Net.
English 44A, SMU
Creative Writing
Professor Miller In-class Assignment for Wednesday:
One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The
partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to
the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on
back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in
order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a
conclusion has been reached.
——————————————————————————–
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him
too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the
question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now
in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the
neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had
spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he
said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No
sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish
partical beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s
cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat
and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one
last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever
had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law
Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel.” Laurie read in her newspaper
one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared
out the window, dreaming of her youth – when the days had passed
unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to
distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things
around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she
pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a
defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to
destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty
the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower
to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly
initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the
atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret submarine
headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the
inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million
other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table.
“We can’t allow this! I’m going to veto that treaty! Let’s blow ‘em out of
the sky!”
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you’re a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at
writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
Asshole.
Bitch.
Booster Seat
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