Going For A Record; Need Your Help
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leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
If every single word can be made into a post, chances are your goal of reaching 15000 notifications by the end of the month could be much closer. You may have a feeling of deja vu reading this though.
Parody of y00han's Entry: Not Anamnesis
The parts I liked about your entry are the references to the real world especially foreign and alien cultures. It is the same reason why I liked HumbugsAssociate's description of a funeral ceremony. Now, this parody will attempt to incorporate experiences that are unique in my part of the world written in the style that I prefer:
I am known in this corner of cyberspace as leonard267. I am young, impressionable, optimistic, full of youthful vigour and I am lying. I suppose any observer if polite, slimy and dishonest would say that I prefer a sedentary lifestyle, if objective (and rude) would say that I am a complete recluse who knows no other companion other than that near sentient monster created in the Computer Age known as a computer.
With the year end / early year monsoons wreaking havoc from where I come from, I tend to be stuck indoors to shield myself from the nasty elements of wind, rain and humidity. This means more opportunities to be further insulated from the real world than I am already am! It is in times like these, my mind begins to wander perhaps due to the claustrophobia caused by the four walls of my abode. That made me rather reflective on the not so close relationships I have had with some people, namely some woman, some old woman and some other man. If I had more semblance of a soul, I'd call them a female acquaintance of mine, my grandmother and my uncle. Since I am bored and I would like to bore you, the reader, let me go through my lack of a relationship with the three of them shall we?
Let me begin by talking about some woman also known as a female acquaintance of mine. We shared little to no similarities other than the fact that we reside in a structure that is best described as blocks of pre-fabricated concrete stacked on top of each other like toy bricks also known as a block, of flats. We are expected to live the entirety of our lives in these things. I am expected to build more of these things in the future to serve as enclosures for virtually every living anthropoid as a worker in the construction industry! It is difficult to engage in normal human interaction so I found myself only liking her only because she is a member of the opposite sex instead of the more proper things that would make a relationship work like liking her for reasons other than because she is a member of the opposite sex.
We were aware of each other's existence. She took an interest in me most likely because I looked like an alien to her, metaphorically because leonard267 behaves as if he is extraterrestrial being with no idea on how the world works, literally because when one's mental age is one digit long, one treats the opposite sex as if they are alien spawn. This will obviously disappoint the lecherous reader who have the unreasonable expectation of sexual tension between two adolescents but I took no action. Why the need to get to know her better if I am already comfortable with myself, my computer and my flat? When her parents decided to cash their flat to buy more valuable property to live in, (valuable property meaning yet another one of those bloody flats) she had to move with them. I did get the address and the phone number of their new abode which I lost barely a week later. Was she of any significance? Was the time spent thinking about this well spent? So pointless it was to ponder over these questions, I decided that I should spend time recollecting my relationship with someone supposedly closer.
My mother's mother looked every bit a man with her square face, short hair and deep voice. At least this was how I remembered her when I was an adolescent. However, just like the woman I spoke of just now, I failed to get close with her. Perhaps it was the lack of fascination with the elderly which took some time for me to develop by reading through events that have no relevance whatsoever to the present, also known as the past and buying into the myth that the past offers insight into the present and future. Perhaps it was the language barrier. She spoke a Chinese dialect that sounded like Indo-Chinese which I was taught to detest and with very good reason for that dialect was spoken widely amongst the uneducated and the uncouth; not to mention the schisms caused within the community due to their inability to adopt a common language. Those dialects were a very strong impediment to achieving that commonality of language so needed for a cohesive community.
She had lived through the Second World War, raised a family of nearly ten in the tough and austere times of the not-so-swinging Sixties in my part of the world, her children grew up and what was her reward? Burst blood vessels in her brain due to a fall in the toilet that rendered her an invalid when she was in her seventies. Poor woman had to spend the rest of life on a bed with tubes stuck into her nose whilst her large figure shrivelled into skin and bones. To further the rift between me and her, I went through puberty. This meant that I changed physically. I believe she remembered me a poorly behaved and spoilt runt but not a poorly behaved and spoilt bigger-sized runt. So, whenever I approached her, she could not recognise me. This went on until she kicked the bucket. One feels a sense of loss but it is far from devastating. I thought I can wallow in unpleasant feelings of devastation by thinking about the deaths that are much worse than old people dying or to be more specific thinking about dead young people.
The person in question was my mother's elder brother who is young being slightly over half a century old when he kicked the bucket. Like the young woman who did not die, we were aware of each other's existence. I had to put up with the occasional teasing from him because I looked a miniature version of a human being which was really funny in hindsight the older and more human being-ish I got. Alas, I was not close to him either. I point the finger of blame at the thirty kilometre distance between our homes and the pointlessness of visiting each other when we have more important things on our agenda like going to work.
I admire hardworking and simple men and women so embodied by my mother's elder brother. He was one of the very important frontline workers who make logistics work by transporting goods using large and hard to control automobiles powered by manual transmission also known as a truck. While it is hyperbole to say that operating a manual vehicle is heart-attacking inducing, I am afraid that was what happened to my dear mother's elder brother. There was great sense of loss only the regret that he could not live 50 years longer. From his passing, I have learnt to be very careful when handling those dangerous trucks, I have grasped the importance of taking medication if I am diagnosed with clogged arteries and I was given a painful reminder of how terrifying it is that heart failure appears to be a hereditary disease running in my mother's family.
Speaking about the lack of loss I feel about these three persons whom I ought to be close to might be indicative of my lack of humanity or my unlikely mastery of the ability to be stoic. This leads me to these questions to ascertain how I feel about these persons:
Do I harbour the desire to turn the clock back? In a way yes, but only because time travel is 'cool'.
Do I harbour the desire to turn myself in a spirit so that I could meet those people I am no longer in contact with? No, what for? I am quite happy to assume the form of flesh and blood.
Do I harbour the desire to use my experiences as an argument for anamnesis or the presence of spirits? This sounds like a leap of logic reminiscent of leonard267's monologues, especially when anamnesis is a poor explanation for why moral and social norms are similar across cultures. Of course not!
So what is the moral of the story then?
Parody of y00han's Entry: Not Anamnesis
The parts I liked about your entry are the references to the real world especially foreign and alien cultures. It is the same reason why I liked HumbugsAssociate's description of a funeral ceremony. Now, this parody will attempt to incorporate experiences that are unique in my part of the world written in the style that I prefer:
I am known in this corner of cyberspace as leonard267. I am young, impressionable, optimistic, full of youthful vigour and I am lying. I suppose any observer if polite, slimy and dishonest would say that I prefer a sedentary lifestyle, if objective (and rude) would say that I am a complete recluse who knows no other companion other than that near sentient monster created in the Computer Age known as a computer.
With the year end / early year monsoons wreaking havoc from where I come from, I tend to be stuck indoors to shield myself from the nasty elements of wind, rain and humidity. This means more opportunities to be further insulated from the real world than I am already am! It is in times like these, my mind begins to wander perhaps due to the claustrophobia caused by the four walls of my abode. That made me rather reflective on the not so close relationships I have had with some people, namely some woman, some old woman and some other man. If I had more semblance of a soul, I'd call them a female acquaintance of mine, my grandmother and my uncle. Since I am bored and I would like to bore you, the reader, let me go through my lack of a relationship with the three of them shall we?
Let me begin by talking about some woman also known as a female acquaintance of mine. We shared little to no similarities other than the fact that we reside in a structure that is best described as blocks of pre-fabricated concrete stacked on top of each other like toy bricks also known as a block, of flats. We are expected to live the entirety of our lives in these things. I am expected to build more of these things in the future to serve as enclosures for virtually every living anthropoid as a worker in the construction industry! It is difficult to engage in normal human interaction so I found myself only liking her only because she is a member of the opposite sex instead of the more proper things that would make a relationship work like liking her for reasons other than because she is a member of the opposite sex.
We were aware of each other's existence. She took an interest in me most likely because I looked like an alien to her, metaphorically because leonard267 behaves as if he is extraterrestrial being with no idea on how the world works, literally because when one's mental age is one digit long, one treats the opposite sex as if they are alien spawn. This will obviously disappoint the lecherous reader who have the unreasonable expectation of sexual tension between two adolescents but I took no action. Why the need to get to know her better if I am already comfortable with myself, my computer and my flat? When her parents decided to cash their flat to buy more valuable property to live in, (valuable property meaning yet another one of those bloody flats) she had to move with them. I did get the address and the phone number of their new abode which I lost barely a week later. Was she of any significance? Was the time spent thinking about this well spent? So pointless it was to ponder over these questions, I decided that I should spend time recollecting my relationship with someone supposedly closer.
My mother's mother looked every bit a man with her square face, short hair and deep voice. At least this was how I remembered her when I was an adolescent. However, just like the woman I spoke of just now, I failed to get close with her. Perhaps it was the lack of fascination with the elderly which took some time for me to develop by reading through events that have no relevance whatsoever to the present, also known as the past and buying into the myth that the past offers insight into the present and future. Perhaps it was the language barrier. She spoke a Chinese dialect that sounded like Indo-Chinese which I was taught to detest and with very good reason for that dialect was spoken widely amongst the uneducated and the uncouth; not to mention the schisms caused within the community due to their inability to adopt a common language. Those dialects were a very strong impediment to achieving that commonality of language so needed for a cohesive community.
She had lived through the Second World War, raised a family of nearly ten in the tough and austere times of the not-so-swinging Sixties in my part of the world, her children grew up and what was her reward? Burst blood vessels in her brain due to a fall in the toilet that rendered her an invalid when she was in her seventies. Poor woman had to spend the rest of life on a bed with tubes stuck into her nose whilst her large figure shrivelled into skin and bones. To further the rift between me and her, I went through puberty. This meant that I changed physically. I believe she remembered me a poorly behaved and spoilt runt but not a poorly behaved and spoilt bigger-sized runt. So, whenever I approached her, she could not recognise me. This went on until she kicked the bucket. One feels a sense of loss but it is far from devastating. I thought I can wallow in unpleasant feelings of devastation by thinking about the deaths that are much worse than old people dying or to be more specific thinking about dead young people.
The person in question was my mother's elder brother who is young being slightly over half a century old when he kicked the bucket. Like the young woman who did not die, we were aware of each other's existence. I had to put up with the occasional teasing from him because I looked a miniature version of a human being which was really funny in hindsight the older and more human being-ish I got. Alas, I was not close to him either. I point the finger of blame at the thirty kilometre distance between our homes and the pointlessness of visiting each other when we have more important things on our agenda like going to work.
I admire hardworking and simple men and women so embodied by my mother's elder brother. He was one of the very important frontline workers who make logistics work by transporting goods using large and hard to control automobiles powered by manual transmission also known as a truck. While it is hyperbole to say that operating a manual vehicle is heart-attacking inducing, I am afraid that was what happened to my dear mother's elder brother. There was great sense of loss only the regret that he could not live 50 years longer. From his passing, I have learnt to be very careful when handling those dangerous trucks, I have grasped the importance of taking medication if I am diagnosed with clogged arteries and I was given a painful reminder of how terrifying it is that heart failure appears to be a hereditary disease running in my mother's family.
Speaking about the lack of loss I feel about these three persons whom I ought to be close to might be indicative of my lack of humanity or my unlikely mastery of the ability to be stoic. This leads me to these questions to ascertain how I feel about these persons:
Do I harbour the desire to turn the clock back? In a way yes, but only because time travel is 'cool'.
Do I harbour the desire to turn myself in a spirit so that I could meet those people I am no longer in contact with? No, what for? I am quite happy to assume the form of flesh and blood.
Do I harbour the desire to use my experiences as an argument for anamnesis or the presence of spirits? This sounds like a leap of logic reminiscent of leonard267's monologues, especially when anamnesis is a poor explanation for why moral and social norms are similar across cultures. Of course not!
So what is the moral of the story then?
[size=28]LEONARD267 IS NOT HUMAN. [/h]
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Zamor
Cloudy
Medzy wrote...
Status update
Instead of a fuck-ton, you're almost to a shit fuck-ton of notifications
