Another Problem
My writing style this semester is decidedly dense and oblique, which is a problem, because I write papers, and because you can't tell what the hell I'm writing about. And if you aren't sure what I'm talking about, it's because I said that my writing style this semester is decidedly dense and oblique.
Herewith as evinced with a semicolon; indeed.
posted by Teodoro Callate @ 2:23 PM
4 comments
4 Comments:
This is all I can say about that Teo
http://84.40.3.164/
you sound ok to me, Teo. but then again, my normal style tends towards density and obliquey
I'm of the opinion that graduate school papers is the exact and appropriate venue for dense and oblique writing. And the blog is where I can break rules and be sloppy and fun or not all that great, and you can see this sentence for an example of that. But the professors, I think, are like most of us and don't have patience for dense and oblique writing, even though that's what they've told me to read for 3 1/2 years. Either that or my dense and oblique style just isn't as good as I think it is. Couldn't be, could it?
Three Dreams of Felicity Taint.
One: The Buddhist
I enter the temple, which is just a house. It is a well used house, with furnishings for daily gatherings of many, rather than comfort items for two. The few items are there have a thrown together look. The rooms are divided by an odd Persian rug slung over a rope. Ringed around the room are several small barrel shaped ottomans. This is where all the people must sit when they come to this temple.
I sit down, and notice a hole in the rug. There is movement behind the rug, and I want to see what is happening on the other side. I look through the hole and I see him, the Buddhist. He sees me, so I instinctively avert my eyes. I glance in the opposite direction as if looking into that hole was part of my larger plan to examine the wall behind me.
Except he is there, too. Somehow the Buddhist traveled on my gaze from the hole in the rug to one of the little barrel shaped chairs opposite the rug. I fix my gaze on him and quickly dart my eyes to the left. He is there. To the right, and there he is.
Again, I lock my gaze upon the Buddhist. He speaks directly into my thoughts. I am a shape shifter, he says. His cheeks undulate and pulse color. Dime sized orange circles rimmed white shrink to red points, then flash back to friendly orange dimes. I am a shape shifter, he says again. I am everywhere you are. I watch the dimes on his cheeks. Orange and white to red points. We sit together, and I am no longer interested in what is happening behind the rug.
Two: The Murder
I live on a prison farm. I am driving the truck back from my job to the cell block. I’ve been working all day and I am dirty. It is good fortune to have this truck, and to be alone, because I am going to escape today. Just at that moment I decided to escape. My life in prison is comfortable, by prison standards. I am considered low risk, and I rarely consider life outside these walls. Except now I have this truck and few people are around. I am going to escape.
I need clothes. I am dirty, and I am wearing a prison uniform. I need some clothes to blend in with people in town. I get out of the truck, thinking about how this is going to happen. A man walks by me. He is a prison employee. He knows me and trusts me because of the work I do. He is not afraid of me.
I pull him down to the ground and hold his head in a pail of water. He struggles. I put my knee on the back of his neck because he is moving around so much. I am trying not to mess up his clothes because I need them. This is hard, I think.
He is gone, I am in the truck. Did I just kill a man? I do not know. I think I just killed a man.
Three: The Rabbit
My child and I are walking past some shops. We are in a charming old town. All the stores are bright and filled with cunning crafts. From the sidewalk, we see a stuffed rabbit through a shop door. The rabbit is animated, and draws us towards the store. Do you want to see the rabbit? I ask my child this. Before I can finish my question she is already toddling into the door.
I smile because I am happy to be with her. We have nothing to do, no plans. We are simply out enjoying the day. She has curly hair, big bright eyes and often laughs instead of talking.
We enter the store, my child in front, I am following behind. She picks up the rabbit and puts the ears into her mouth. In the bright, cheery store something else catches her eye and she wanders off. I notice the clerk. She and I have watched this scene unfold and we smile together. I am charmed by my child’s abandon. I guess I bought a rabbit, I say to the clerk.
She laughs as she hands me a green fountain pen. I write a check for exactly thirty dollars. As I write this check, I think wow. This is a really cool pen. The ink is green, too. What is the name of this store?
Post a Comment
<< Home