Jason Rimbaud
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Posts posted by Jason Rimbaud
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Since my author page was lost for a few months, I wanted to bump this thread back up in case there were those of you that didn't get to read this story. I know, shameless behavior. But I'd really like those of you that haven't read it yet to give it a try.
Proceed.
Jason R.
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Thanks Desilu,
I've never been good at breaking down sentences. You rock.
Jason R.
(Wow, I just realized I didn't even make fun of you once in this entire post. I must be getting sick.)
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Thumbs up because I loved this poem.
Thumbs down because I can't pronounce the title.So all around I'll give it three
Jason R.
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--Steven
If you can't laugh at yourself; you're probably not funny.
Off topic, but I disagree with your sig. I laugh at myself all the time and everyone says I'm definately NOT funny.
Jason R.
By the way, I agree with everything you said in the above post.
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All right Awesome Dudes, you heard it straight from the rodents mouth.
Everyone send Wibby an email at least once a day until the next chapter is posted.
Jason R.
PS: Hey Wibby, what's your email address again?
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Hey Lugs,
As long as you're okay with going second, you may dust off your lap.
Or better yet, I could help clear away the cobwebs. You know, as sort of a "Welcome to the green room and author statis type gesture". The dude did ask us all to be friendly to those new comers after all.
Jason R.
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And if you won't tell Rad, how about telling me instead?
I agree with Rad's agree.
Jason R.
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Okay, here's my problem.
On one hand, I hope that Pecman isn't laid off his job.
But on the other hand, I'm so hoping that Pecman is laid off his job.
Seriously love this story by the way. And since I've found out a few things about Pecman recently, I might have a small cyber-crush on the man as well.
Jason R.
BTW Pecman, if you need a place to stay..........
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I voted "NO". Never really been interested in chat rooms. Like Des, I think it would be a diversion from the main reason we all hang out at AD. And that is to write stories/read stories.
But whatever is decided, I would support it as best as I can.
Jason R.
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Des, you are so bad.
Jason R.
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CopyCat. I have half a mind to
Damnit, be right back.
Jason R.
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I've been thinking about this topic for a long time. And I must say that the single most satisfying comment I have ever received came from Camy a few weeks/months ago after reading a poem I wrote called Rainbow Warrior. I can't exactly remember what he said, but it goes something like this...
reading your poem made me think, like all your poetry does
I guess that says it all really. If something I write makes another person think, then I guess that is most satisfying. And it helps to stroke the ego because after reading my poem, he wrote a piece called Iraq. I inspired him to write something, that's a compliment that can't be equaled.
Jason R.
What I won't say, is that his poem that I inspired him to write, was so much better than the one I wrote that inspired him in the first place. damn emu. If you haven't read it yet, I urge you to look it up. Great piece.
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I disagree with "A". Some things, like this poem, are more a stream of conscious. If Josiah would take the time to polish it, the emotional impact would be lessened.
I like this piece. The honesty and the almost clinical explanation of an extremely emotional event is at times under-stated with just enough anger to keep me reading. These types of poems are written usually for the sole benefit of the writer. It's a way to cope with the situation without resorting to violence. In a way, you could say that this poem was meant to be read by a single reader. I'm just glad that Josiah has decided to share it with us. I really like this one.
Jason R.
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But at the same time, I think it's a tremendous mistake to pretend that sex doesn't exist as part of life, particularly for stories dealing with teenage or adult characters. To me, avoiding sex is like trying to ignore an 800-pound gorilla sitting in the middle of the room: you can pretend it's not there, but that doesn't make it go away.
Not describing sex in a story is completely different than ignoring sex all together. I've read stories where sex is implied, and maybe even described up and until the deed itself before leaving the final act up to the readers imagination. This doesn't mean the author was ignoring the gorilla. Quite the opposite really, because focusing on the mental and emotional part of sex is more rewarding than reading about insert rod "A" into hole "B", and repeat until you make a face.
The mistake that is being made here, in my humble opinion, is authors who believe that writing erotica is the same as writing romance stories. They are two different writing styles. Erotica focuses on the description of sex, and its main purpose is to help others release sexual energy. Where, romance styled writing tends to focus more on the journey of finding someone to have sex with. And then there are stories that blend the two together, I called them romance-ica. Every author defines his own place on the scale between erotica and romance. Both forms are valid, and each have their place in the world.
My tastes lean towards more romance styled writing. After all, I'm quite familiar with how sex works between two men. What I want to read about and experience, is how do two boys end up having sex, and then how do they make a relationship work.
So to sum up, maybe Josiah writes more romance styled writings where describing the act of sex isn't really important to the plot. So if it is omitted, there is a gorilla in the room, but maybe he doesn't need to describe what that gorilla looks like to the readers who have their own gorilla sitting next to them.
This is my thoughts anyway. Cheers.
Jason R.
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Speaking for myself, and this is something I do under protest, I must say that not only do I become aroused by my own writing, but usually the only way I become aroused is if I read something I wrote.
I've been known, in my small imaginary circle of friends, to routinely pleasure myself while reading little love notes I've written to myself scattered about the apartment. It makes it a bit "hard" at times to keep my living space clean as in the act of cleaning, I find these little notes and immediately have to stop and take matters into my own hands.
Now you must forgive me, something has come up and I must tend to it immediately.
*turns on the new Garth Brooks song and lights a candle while unbuttoning my pants*
Jason R.
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I agree with Cole. It's nice to have someone in the "know" to let us less fortunate peeps educate ourselves. Even if that person in the "know" is from someone claiming to live under the rest of us. I have my suspicions about that claim as well.
*looks under the table to see if i can spot the elusive dessie*
Jason R.
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See, I totally DIS-agree with both Pecman and Camy. Which is ironic considering I hold both of these authors in great esteem.
Savage Moon starts out being a very promising story about werewolves and the struggle between religion and free-will. And for the first three chapters, it is very compelling. The characters are richly drawn and the world is very colorful. But from the forth chapter on, it quickly becomes bogged down with over-descriptive paragraphs and a meandering narrative that fails to give a payoff while dangling hope in front of the reader.
I wanted to like this story, werewolves and such is a subject I find fascinating. But by the tenth chapter, I wanted to find out where the author lived, fly there, knock on his door, and punch him right in the face for making me read such pretentious drivel.
I'm not sure if the author believes this style of writing is compelling or provocative, but I found Savage Moon to be a bit further out than boring. The characters begin rather engaging, in the first three chapters that is, but soon afterwards, they slip into the realm of one dimensional status, a few steps lower down the food chain than characters that exist in third rate porn movies from Canada.
After the third chapter, the plot falls head first into stroke city.
The lead character, I"m sorry I can't even remember his name, evolves into such a clich? of being a queer, not only tolerates but embraces situations where he is constantly manipulated into fucking other boys even though once the deed is finished, he is guilty about his sexual behavior.
And where I understand this type of story has it's place, I wonder if this is something we should be heralding as the Best of Nifty. Because to me, if this is the best Nifty has to offer, why should we even bother with constructing a list?
Jason R.
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Jesus, Des, you make my head hurt.
And I'm not saying anything about the collective intelligence of Funtails, The Pecman, or Graeme, because readng the very eye-opening posts you have made in just this forum, I know you are far smarter than I. But Des is the master of debate, no pun intended. Who would've thought someone on the bottom of the world would somehow manage to rise to the top, just like a bad yeast infection.
Just kidding Des! Anyway, I love this topic. Being a huge Sci-Fi fan and time travel in particular, I have my thoughts on time travel and have made a outline for a pretty fantastical story I hope to one day write.
But since this thread is really about clich?s in time travel stories, I'll offer one up.
I just watched a movie called A Sound of Thunder, I believe it was a Ray Bradbury short story written years ago. Matter of fact, the only person probably alive when it was written is poor Des. (wow, what is this, pick on poor Des day?)
To sum up a horrible movie, someone invented a way to go back in time, instead of using this technique to study the past, instead it was only used for taking rich men back in time to hunt pre-historic animals.
On one particular mission, a man accidentally steps on a butterfly, that's it, a single butterfly, changing the entire future of the world. Humans never evolved, instead the predominate species seemed to be a cross between apes and lizards. Really big fucking lizards.
But the future didn't change immediately, no, otherwise you wouldn't have a movie at all. Instead, it would change every twenty hours or so in what they called time ripples. With each ripple, more changes were made. They predicted that with the last ripple, humanity would be gone forever.
To me, this is the worst clich?, I will never believe that killing one butterfly, 50 million years ago, would really ever affect anything. The world is too big for that to be more than a hypothesis. Going back in time and introducing a virus that we brought with us, thus changing the future, I can see that more the killing of a single butterfly.
Jason R.
PS: I love Des down under.
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Hey Gabe,
I've read this over and over and I must say, I like it better now than I did when you let me read it the first time.
It's hard to put into words, but this piece is amazing. I love it.
Jason R.
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Difficult to describe Trab. Sort of like the movie "The Killing Fields" where Puccini's music with it's soulful melody is juxtapositioned with the images of the mass grave of skeletons. This is easier to do with visual image accompanied by sound than in sound alone. However the sound alone can be of much wider scope.
For Camy's poem I think we would need something more subtle. The sound of a lone bird call might do it.
A dog barking happily, children laughing at play. A collage of sounds may be possible. These soundscapes as they are called these days, can be very powerful and add meaning to a work if used appropriately.
The idea being to convey the opposites in background sound to the reality of the horrors contained in Camy's justified questions and observations. At the same time they enhance the impact and truth contained in the words.
Of course this has to be done very carefully and sensitively or we end up making a mockery of the whole thing. In truth I think a simple reading of the poem would be sufficiently poignant in itself, but the dramatist in me wants more...
Setting the poem to music as a song would be marvellous.
I second that motion.
Hmmmm
I'll make a deal with you Camy.
If you put this piece to music and let us all hear it.
*Takes a deep breath*
I"ll do a reading of The Finale.
There, I said. And everyone is a witness. The ball's in your court now Emu.
Jason R.
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Wow Camy,
This is one time I'll gladly take credit for inspiring you. This piece is brilliant, tied together by such simple questions. My god, but what powerful questions they are. I only wish we, as American's, would've asked some of those questions before our last election. A remarkable piece. Hands down, brilliant.
Jason R.
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I'm not saying I'm thinking about recording myself reading a poem. But if I would want to record myself reading my poem, how would I go about doing that? Not that I would ever want to do that. Well, maybe for the crazy emu. Perhaps.
Jason R.
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The Finale
By: Jason R.
Written October 1st, 2007
Its five o?clock and I arrive home
This house is empty I feel so alone
I wonder if you?re working late
There?s a message saying you?ll be home by eight
I place my coat on the chair in the den
Go to the kitchen and get a bottle of Zin
The one you bought that time at the fair
The liquid tastes bitter without you there
By six o?clock the shadows fall
I stare at memories lining the walls
There was a time when the sun would set
You?d be right beside me and the day we?d forget
There?s something special about the dining room
We?d light candles and romance would bloom
We?d laugh and talk with nothing to say
Building up for the climax on the way
Holding hands start the passion there
At times we never made it up the stairs
Making love in the fading light
Inside of you my life felt right
But something happened along the way
Divided by things we forgot how to say
It?s bittersweet as I drink my wine
Realizing that your life?s no longer mine
But we still live in my fantasy
In my dreams it?s still you and me
Can we get back to how it used to be
Here in my memory
Seven o?clock and I?ve got a plan
Tonight?s the night I make my last stand
Maybe there in that dining room
We can cut through the silence and the gloom
I made a fish the kind you like
A bucket and ice chilling the white
The tables set and I wait for you
I?m a bit nervous but play it cool
At eight o?clock you walk through the door
I?m standing there with a glass and I pour
Hoping to see some encouraging sign
I walk into the kitchen as you drink your wine
You sit down and the dinner begins
The talk is small like estranged friends
I can?t believe the silence is there
Where once our lives always shared
At nine o?clock your cell phone rings
And to your face a smile it brings
You walk out and I wonder why
I guess it?s easier than telling a lie
You hang up and head off to bed
I stay back realizing love is dead
In my head I know I can?t fight anymore
You?re just as gone as if you left out the door
So here I am finally facing reality
There?s nothing left of you and me
We?re just another used to be
Existing only in my memory
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Rainbow Warrior
By: Jason R.
Written May 27th, 2006 and on September 30th, 2007
You dropped the words on me today
Duty it seems will soon take you away
I think a part of me died tonight
I feel nothing on my insides
Fighting a war I can?t begin to understand
Being Army strong won?t make you a man
Can you hide who you?re fighting for
Being on the front lines in the wrong fucking war
We spoke until the words were yells
I?ll never understand you I can tell
Brandon, I really feel like hell
But I?ll throw a few pennies in the wishing well
You stood up and drew a line in the sand
And you knew you could be excluded for loving a man
If this secret was to escape and be found out by all
Your disgrace would be terrific and down you?d fall
I know it?s your belief and a desire to serve
You love this country despite being labeled a perv
Their policy is don?t ask and never say
They?ll let you die but you can?t die gay
I received the news from them today
It seems duty finally did take you away
I know a part of me died tonight
And I feel nothing on my insides
You fought a war I?ll never understand
But being Army strong made you a man
You no longer have to hide who you?re fighting for
Dead on some front line in this wrong fucking war
I cried until the screams turned to yells
I?ll never understand your sacrifice I can tell
Brandon, I really feel like hell
A rose on your grave replaces pennies in the wishing well
Thumbs up because I loved this poem.
Thumbs down because I can't pronounce the title.
Just kidding Des! Scan to donate
Are you naked?
in The Raccoon's Den
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I don't like the choices, so I didn't vote.
For number one, I never sit at my computer naked. That's gross. Just think of the chair. *shudders*
And if I would sit in my chair naked, why would I keep my socks on? Maybe Raccoon's do this but I don't.
If I'm at the computer, I usually wear whatever clothes I happen to have on for that day. Plus my hat, I do have a lucky hat I always wear when I'm writing. Matter of fact, I'm wearing that hat in my avatar.
And as for Cole asking who would answer the door naked, I've been known to answer the door in all states of dress/undress. But then I'm also the guy that takes photos of my no-no parts and sends them to my friends at the most bizarre times.
Jason R.