Winter Writing Contest Wrap-up: Campaigning and Mudslinging

By the fact that you can churn out such thorough and interesting parodies so quickly.

5. Non-parody of Mibuchiha's Entry : An Exposition Giving a Piece of My Mind

Mibuchiha, you may regret asking me to tell you what Norwegian Wood is about because I decided to write a review of the story in my style which is rather difficult to appreciate.

If you don't want to read the book thoroughly and favour a synopsis, here is the Wikipedia link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwegian_Wood_(novel)

Here is the e-copy of the novel itself. Not sure when it will be taken down:

http://www.macobo.com/essays/epdf/Haruki%20Murakami%20-%20Norwegian%20Wood.pdf

The translator did a good job. It is very easy to read perhaps because of the first person perspective and the simple language used. I deem a well written article to be one that can be browsed through at 2000 words a minute. This is one example.

Now should you proceed further, feel free to make withering remarks about my review of Norwegian Wood:

Norwegian Wood was set in the 1960s, a bizarre era where (almost) everyone took leave of their senses and decided to complete the ruin and devastation the Second War wrought by bringing about social and cultural ruin. Established traditions and views on fidelity and modesty were driven to the ground to be spat on. Nearly all of my short life I came to wrongly associate these so-called value systems that replaced these time-honoured traditions as "Western values". I know better now.

It did not affect my part of the world but it sure did affect the West and that Asian anomaly of a country that thinks it is part of the West called Japan. Personally, I feel sorry for their descendants who had to suffer the consequences of the excesses of the sixties. Call this expression of disgust a pointless digression if one wills. However, this airing of opinions serves as explanation of my biases towards Norwegian Wood and the background of this story. Now, allow me to complain about it:

The title is of course derived from that song from that band from that era. The protagonist Tarou Watanabe Toru (Surnames come before the name in this part of the world. I personally don't endorse the silly drive to adopt Western naming conventions that followed the Meiji Restoration.) begins recounting his wasted life as a wasted wastrel in what can be called a wasteland of a country called Japan in the late 1960s that then specialises in the manufacture of less than quality products and cars that break down before one can finish singing, "So I lit a fire. Isn't it good that I burnt down some Norwegian wood?"

What followed was a (morose and dare I say whiny?) recollection of a series of ghastly activities like engaging in copulation at an age when I was doing things more worthy of pursuit, like receiving a proper education and deciding that that age is a good age to kick the bucket as a nod to more primitive times a hundred thousand years ago when the lifespan of a human being was no more than twenty years. That I feel serves as the best summary of the entire book.

Yet, what is a book review without going in to what actually happened other than the rather vague assertion that the entire book is about inserting one's appendage into any orifice imaginable and killing oneself after that is done? Here are a few examples that I will try to list in a chronological fashion:


1a) Story begins with Tarou Toru and two very close friends, Kizuki whose genitals hang out of the body and Naoko whose genitals do not.

1b) Tarou Toru wants to mate with Naoko. Naoko wants to mate with Kizuki.

1c) Kizuki killed himself. Naoko also wants to kill herself after learning that Kizuki killed himself. For your information, Naoko's sister killed as herself as well.

1d) Tarou Toru had a girlfriend during that time. He fooled around with her then dumped her after Kizuki killed himself. The reason for doing so? He is an emotional wreck with no sense of fidelity of responsibility and so can't give a good reason why he wanted to break up with her. He enjoyed his solitude more. He preferred to be single.



2a) Fast forward to college where both Tarou Toru and Naoko, who on reflection ought to have killed themselves by now, were taking drama and literature.

2b) Turns out Naoko wanted to kill herself after all (after doing it with Tarou Toru) so she sent herself to an asylum a sanatorium which was run by a MILF the Moro Islamic Liberation Front an attractive and mature lady called Reiko. More on her later.

2c) Made friends with prone-to-catching-sexually-transmitted-diseases philanderer Nagasawa. He had a girlfriend called Hatsumi who must be suffering the psychological equivalent of a Battered Woman Syndrome. Tarou Toru and Nagasawa had the disturbing habit of picking up women together and doing it so frequently that one wonders if their manhoods have not dropped off in the process.

2d) Shared a room with possibly the only person that I liked in the story called the Stormtrooper. Obsessed about cleanliness, has a Golden Gate Bridge fetish (a fetish that I can fully sympathise with being in construction), styles his hair properly and looks as if he ought to be staying home with his parents, he is refreshing break from the depressing ruminations of sex and suicide.

2e) Acquainted (then fell in love) with what would become a loud, obnoxious and annoying love toy of a humanoid called Midori. If she were one of those Japanese silicon robots with artificial intelligence that are obviously the love toys of the future, I would gladly buy it as a punching bag. The euphemistic terms used to describe people like her could range from ebullient to jocular to easy going. I prefer to use more direct words like ill-bred and promiscuous.



3a) Climax of the story involves everyone disappearing or killing themselves and more attempts at procreation! Hooray!

3b) Naoko killed herself over God knows what. That male slut Nasagawa's girlfriend, Hatsumi, killed herself over God knows what. The Stormtrooper disappeared without a trace but going by the patterns and trends established by what is written so far it is plausible to say that he also killed himself over God knows what. And I wish Midori can kill herself over God knows what. That didn't happen though.

3c) More sticking of Tarou Toru's appendages to the least expected of orifices! Sad and traumatised that your emotional wreck of your childhood friend committed suicide? Go on a pilgrimage with no destination for a few months then **** your new girlfriend and **** the a MILF the Moro Islamic Liberation Front an attractive and mature lady called Reiko who took care of your recently deceased childhood friend!

3d) What happened towards the end of the story could one of the most self-incriminating and infuriating monologues I have ever heard. Apparently Tarou Toru is regretting sleeping around. Of course, he is not as mopey and suicidal as Naoko so he goes about fooling about with Reiko anyway. Speaking of Reiko...

3e) Reiko has a nut loose in her skull like Naoko it seems. She claims that she is sexually assaulted by a thirteen year old female adolescent. To that my response is sceptical and raucous laughter best written in capitalised and bold fonts:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

3f) Looks as if Tarou Toru ended with Midori in the end which was an abrupt and inconclusive question, "Where are you?" How on earth does this connect to that scene at the very beginning of the story where the author is on a plane to West Germany? I can answer that inconclusive question though. It feels as if I am no longer on the mortal plane, having been transported to the netherworld filled with nether regions.


The elephant in the room I feel as I conclude my review of Norwegian Wood is, why is it named thus?

I don't think there were many forests mentioned in the novel, less so Norwegian ones.

I don't recall the story mentioning blocks of wood (which was what the original song meant by wood) in that story though I am convinced that most of the cast in that story are blockheads and deserved to be clubbed by blocks of wood.

One may point to the fact that that emotional wreck Naoko was sensitive to that song and entertained suicidal thoughts upon hearing it. Let me reproduce the song for you:

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me...
She showed me her room, isn't it good, Norwegian wood?

She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,
So I looked around and I noticed there wasn't a chair.

I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine
We talked until two and then she said, "It's time for bed"

She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.
I told her I didn't and crawled off to sleep in the bath

And when I awoke, I was alone, this bird had flown
So I lit a fire, isn't it good, Norwegian wood.

It is painfully obvious that this song is about a one-night stand. The fact that Naoko feels suicidal about it is a very compelling reason why she should remain in that asylum sanatorium!

However, I am of the opinion that wood in the context of this story ought to the sexual innuendo for some part of the male's body. I am not sure about the constitution or the virility of Norwegian males though but I am sure it should be quite impressive given the number of times our dear hero Tarou Toru fooled around, behaving irresponsibly and hedonistically with no thought about the consequences.

Coupled that with the fascination of suicide and I find myself asking this question to the protagonist of this story and all those who engaged in that disgusting act of killing themselves: How can you justify whatever you have done with vague, unclear and poorly communicated thoughts about your feelings? I say it is much honest to admit that you have poor judgement, poor emotional resilience, you are enslaved to your carnal desires and could do with proper help.

My parents who are of their generation would have never dared to do what these bunch of clowns portrayed in that novel had done and would have despised those who did so. I believe, in a very self-righteous and arrogant fashion, that I, who was born towards the end of the 20th century, never had those 'angsty' and emotionally unsure moments experienced by Tarou Toru and company.

Oh yes, I should sign off with a moral of the story, shouldn't I:

They aren't that well written though. I have promised many people that I would do come up with parodies so it pays to make promises that are hard to keep.

well great job, it summarizes the story perfectly. give me good laughs on some part.

though as for myself, I sometimes thought like Toru did, just without the actual intercourse though. that's probably why it appeals to me, in addition of the main character being someone I can relate to almost too well. especially the part about witnessing the death of someone close by, and having so little will to live at times I just wished for it to end already =)

I think it's a hit and miss story, but if I were to write a novel, I'd probably want to write something like this. even though it probably pissed off the hearts and decency of many. why? I think because writing goes to provide salvation for oneself. like it was for me and probably for you too. like, something, which has the words that resonates with yer soul and sets you free from the things binding ya.

I'd like to think yeah. when one kind of work has already offended many people, it's kind of beautiful to think, that in the other side - it already has saved the lives of many. thinking that they were not alone in the slightest. to me, yeah, the masterpieces of writing - should all aim to be like that.

anyways, an eye-opening review. thanks for sharing this.

I will say that again though that it is well written. I just dislike the hedonism and the flippant attitude towards suicide that is so characteristic of the 1960s and Japan respectively which the book portrays so well.

indeed as you say.

maybe a bit of utter nihilism and hedonistic, but you've probably got to look far underneath it all to appreciate the story. that's probably why it doesn't click with some people.

The author communicated his thoughts well if appreciating the story means understanding what the narrator feels. However, I am not concerned about Toru's justifications and feelings though. All too often, I am concerned about one's actions which you must find quite appalling.

I think if I were to see the 60s repeat before me, so characteristic of Toru's experiences in the novel, I'd go mad. (And some say I am mad to begin with)

yeah I think it's probably more about the certain likes and dislikes toward a certain character. if that's the case, I probably would say the similar thing to the things I quite disliked.

No, no. I am a prude that dislikes cheating, promiscuity and suicide. Show that prude Norwegian Wood and he will blanch no matter how well it is written. It is a book that I would recommend to anyone who does not think like me.

This is why I don't like the characters and the events of Norwegian Wood but enjoyed how it is presented. It is a good book because I hated it for the right reasons. The reason being that it is set in the 60s, and these bizarre things happened in the 60s which I don't like. If the book explains very well how the characters in the 60s acted, I would hate the story but I cannot deny that it does a good job at storytelling.

That said, a video on the 60s are awful:

well I meant it more like that actually. about one's own ideals and preferences and how they disagrees with the actual philosophy of the story itself.

in any case, you probably might rage at this thing too. though the way this protagonist present himself is almost too hilarious to even exist =D

6. Parody of AssasinZAssasin's Entry : Very, Very, Very Cold Winter

This would be the third or fourth time I have said this. I enjoyed your entry thoroughly. It is styled like one of my monologues and the tone of the entry is gloomy and glum. The ending may be rushed but I appreciate a bad ending. You do know that I express a little disdain for romance and it appears that your entry is disdainful of that concept as well.

I said that the only problem with your entry is that is not leonard267-ish enough. Indeed, I will attach an addendum at the end of my little parody of your entry on how to write like leonard267. Now, let this self-proclaimed expert show you how it is done:


Whoever was it that presupposes that Christmas or the New Year is that magical season when all of a sudden you find the love of life, everything would be alright, the sun would shine and there would be world peace? Come to think of it, disasters happen at that time of that year when revellers make an utter mess, stampeding happens in overcrowded bars, fires are started due to the fireworks, people die from the sheer cold, people die from the sheer heat down under, tempests, floods and hail plague many countries around the world and the weather is still horrible where leonard267 comes from.

I am a simple man with simple tastes and simple wants. Being a young man of marriageable age, it is alright if there is no world peace, it is alright if the sun doesn't shine, it is even alright if everything is not alright but for the love of God, if I can't find the love of my life, it is not alright. I was told by some section of an online forum that I need to mingle with more people, attend more social gatherings in order to find what would hopefully be my partner till the day that I drop dead. So, I took their advice and went into a club filled with people who are more than eager to get drunk.

However, the drunk people in the bar being drunk, begun stripping my clothes off in some bizarre dance sequence that involves poles and scantily clad women who are very poor candidates for lifelong partners. I extricated myself from the bar with the skin of my teeth only to find myself clad in nothing but my undergarments outdoors at the start of a hypothermia inducing winter season. Dismayed at my failure to lay my hands on a woman, I begun feeling glum, grumpy, frustrated, angry and every other synonym available that describes such unpleasant feelings. With a heavy heart, I begun making my journey back home step by step in that bitter winter cold.

It was then I felt as if I encountered three visitations by the ghouls ghosts of Christmas, except that it was I, not them who did the visiting. Before I go into detail, allow me to say that the appear to be the embodiment of that Christmas / New Year myth where everything is alright, the sun is shining, there is world peace and worst best of all, they have found the love of their lives. Also, might I add, they are not stripped down to their undergarments meaning that they are quite comfortable and meaning that I have to suppress the urge to wallop them. It was rather obvious that these feelings of unhappiness have mutated into a desire for war on Earth and ill will to all mankind.

The first visitation was that of a poor couple. The following was their dialogue:
"Do you remember what happened last Christmas, Wil?"
“Of course, Claire, how could I forget? It’s the same day I picked you up. That day, right when I felt life had no real meaning left…I found you. And you’re the reason I live for now, Claire…”
Putting aside the squeamishness of it all, I did realise that the couple were living on a shoestring. My thoughts turned to whether they were given a fuel allowance to tide the cold of the winter. My thoughts also turned to whether their homes have central heating in the first place. All of these pronouncements of their undying love appear to crumble away if they don't move to warmer climes or get rich enough so that won't die due to winter cold. Do ignore the irony of a man clad in nothing but his underpants wondering if the couple would die of the cold. Also, do ignore the fact that that couple failed to notice a man walking past them nearly naked.


The second visitation was disturbing. What appeared to be a humanoid with feline features on her ears and tail is behaving rather promiscuously. Her partner, a very young boy, on the other hand appeared to be enjoying himself. I swear that the moment I turn my back they will breeding like stray cats which will ultimately be sent to the pound, sterilised and slaughtered. Have the young have no sense of decency, no sense of shame and no sense of common sense?! I thought they are young and have less means of supporting themselves than the paupers I had encountered before. I thought intimacy between loving couples is so sacred that it ought not to be cheapened by gross public displays! I thought that if they were to do it in temperatures lower than the freezing point of ice, their genitals would drop off! I will assume that the very young woman is wearing a costume. Notwithstanding the fact that I dressed in nothing but my boxers,




As if things could not get worse, calling the third visitation disturbing is a gross understatement. I chanced upon a man, seated on bench. On his crotch laid a dog. Seeing the poor in love engenders feelings of jealousy. Seeing the young behaving promiscuously engenders feelings of disgust. Seeing an attempt at bestiality would leave one's mental faculties unable to process those feelings at all. I did the only proper thing which was to lunge at man-dog lovers, with only my boxers on, my male mammary glands bouncing up and down and my pubic hair for all to see. I could have properly manhandled the two creatures for attempting bestiality if I did not black out all of a sudden due to the sheer cold.


It was then I found myself in a space beyond space and a time beyond time. I do not know if I have left the mortal realm. I do know however that I have the means to communicate all of this to anyone who is willing to read through these walls of text. Who says that one can't have a dreadful end to the year?

Yet, more importantly, what is the moral of the story?



Addendum -- How to Write Like Leonard267

1. Be utterly verbose. Use overly long sentences that string together many ideas at once. Never mind that the end product is difficult to read. Eg: However, the drunk people in the bar being drunk, begun stripping my clothes off in some bizarre dance sequence that involves poles and scantily clad women who are very poor candidates for lifelong partners.

2. Contain references that only you can understand. Eg: It was rather obvious that these feelings of unhappiness have mutated into a desire for war on Earth and ill will to all mankind.

3. Repetition. Eg: My thoughts turned to whether they were given a fuel allowance to tide the cold of the winter. My thoughts also turned to whether their homes have central heating in the first place.

4. Colourful and bright fonts. Eg: [color=red]DON'T THINK THAT THE YEAR END FESTIVITIES ARE ALL THAT GOOD.[/color]

5. Random tone shifts that confuse the poor reader. Eg: They were nonetheless happy, even though they risk sending themselves to the gates of Hades by doing it at such an advanced age. Yet, more importantly, I am not happy.

6. Crazed rambling made possible through feelings of anger and frustration that makes one prone to complaining. Eg: PRETTY MUCH WHATEVER I WRITE!

It's RANCE. Fricken RANCE.

It's not Rance without all the rape and stuff.

I never knew that you are into that, Assassin.

Rance's System of battle is pretty interesting.

And more so than that, I like the girls in the game. Too bad about Rance, though.

^ Assassin: Noted.

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?

8. Parody of Nejik's Entry: Why did I Linger There and Then?

Nejik, I have promised you a parody though I think I did say that it would come very late. A lot of people are complaining on why Arnold, who I thought was the narrator of the story is present. Perhaps we can change their minds if we replaced Arnold with leonard267. This parody of your entry will be much shorter than the others and I hope it would be easier to read. I find myself enjoying the shorter ones more than the longer ones:

It was that strange and bizarre and night that led me, leonard267, into this psychiatric ward to treat what was supposedly my hallucination-churning brain. While my acquaintances are quite convinced that I have a screw loose in my head to begin with, I am convinced that the events related to whoever that reads this actually happened:

Frigid blasts of air originating in the Arctic caused temperatures to plummet at that time. Yet, either due to the geography of the region or human activity, there were always the presence of heat islands. The island that I went to that fateful night was one of those heat islands, no pun intended. It was situated off quite a distance off the coast of the city where I lived.

While everyone is masochistic enough to engage in pointless winter celebrations outdoors, I wanted a peace of mind and an escape from the cold. So, I started my boat and was about to set off for that island only to find a very beautiful looking anthropoid ape, also known as a genderly ambiguous human being, asking me for a lift on my boat.

I compiled, because I am an aged, not-so-eligible bachelor looking for young women. Never mind that that island is uninhabited, never mind that it is generally a bad idea to give lifts to strangers bound for strange locations, I wanted to kickstart my love life! However, I was fooled by my passenger's slender limbs, light body and long hair. As we spoke, I realised that she was a he! After this shocking revelation, I found myself wishing to huddle myself in a corner. It is quite alike to having a close shave with death, except for my case it was a close shave with sodomy.

I did ask him what was his purpose for going to an uninhabited island, to which he replied that he is meeting his wife. That was rather strange, I thought. He looks barely legal! I felt like asking more questions like how old he was and why was his wife was on an uninhabited island only to feel a cold sensation coursing throughout me. Perhaps it was because I was finding that young man rather creepy.

Bizarre as things were, it was only when I reached the island when things went out of control. There was an ancient lady who looked like a male waiting for our arrival and she was dressed in bright colours so inappropriate for her age. My male companion spoke softly to me, gesturing to her, "She is my wife and I have a score to settle with her." It was at that moment I lamented silently of the moral and social decay of our society as I pictured a boy a little more than 10 years old married to someone 10 times older than him.

I was then entertained to a very strange pyrotechnic spectacle cum water fountain show. I swore that fire, water and ice materialised out of thin air as the young boy and old lady gesticulated wildly whilst yelling about global warming. Come to think of it, it felt like watching one of those ubiquitous and lousy current affairs show. I thought of leaving the island by boat to get as far away from them as possible when I blacked out all of a sudden. I was told that was due to an explosion on the island. Who knew that a fireworks display could be that dangerous?

When I came to, I was arrested for arson and wanton destruction of public property on an inhabited island miles away from a coastal city. I defended myself by telling them what I thought happened on the island only to find myself transferred to this psychiatric ward!

I don't know what happened to that young boy and that old lady. Urban legends has it that they are spirits of the city but really I rather believe that they are strange people so representative of the dysfunctional families we see today.

So, what is the moral of this story?

oh my goodness.

it's really a coincidence when I listened to one recording of Henry Rollins. He spoke about his experience going to a bar, then one chick with great legs and fish-net stockings like Madonna came to pick him up and wanting to get her way with him down the parking lot. She sat on his lap first, but ultimately he realized that - she's actually a man.

She said her name's Peach but her real name's actually Tim. Henry talked about it like he was truly in a nightmare, just like what you did in your entry.

Take Nejik's parody alone without reading through the original article and you might find that it does not make sense. What does a young boy and an old lady playing dressup have to do with the island being warm and the surroundings being cold? Not to mention the spirits that Nejik described in his entry.

Just take it as a madman ranting... I might have to make changes in the future.

nah =)

it's good enough for me. but if you want to make changes, feel free to do some edits later on.

Actually come to think of it, the same applies for almost every single parody with the possible exceptions of the book review and Dawn of Dark's parody.