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[Peter Bauer]

Hey Neighbor, you forgot to put up your own challenge.

[Neighbor Scout]

Yes I did forget.  Thanks for the reminder.

Well I got something from....

From V for Vendetta, scene 7 "Symbolic Acts"

Evey: [waking up from sleep]

V: [Humming and cooking in the kitchen]

Evey: V?

V: Good Morning Mademoiselle.

Evey: I just wanted to apologize for my reaction last night?

V: Hm.

Evey: I understand what you did for me, and I want you to know I’m grateful.

Your hands.

V: Yes.

[Humming]

There, that’s better.

I hope I didn’t put you off your appetite

Evey: No please.  It’s just–Are you all right?

V: Yes, yes, yes, I’m fine.

Evey: Can I ask what happen?

V:  There was a fire.  A long time ago.  Ancient history, for some. 

Not very good table conversation.

Now, would you care for a cup of tea with your egg?

Evey: Yes, thank you. I’m starving, actually.

V: Have a seat.

Evey: [eats] Mmm...  It’s delicious.

V: Hm.  Good.

Evey: God, I haven’t had real butter since I was a little girl.  Where did you get it?

V:A government supply train on its way to Chancellor Sutler.

Evey: [clears throat] You stole this from Chancellor Sutler.

V: Yes.

Evey: You are insane?

V: “I dare do all that may become a man.  Who dares more is none.”

Evey: Macbeth.

V: Very good.

Evey: My mum, she used to read all his plays to me and ever since, I’ve always wanted to act.  Be in plays, movies.  When I was 9, I played Viola in Twelfth Night.  Mum was very proud.

V: Where is your mother now?

Evey: She’s dead.

V: I’m sorry.

Evey: Can I ask about what you said on the telly?

V: Yes.

Evey: Did you mean it?

V: Every word.

Evey: You really think blowing up Parliament’s going to make this country a better place?

V: There’s no certainty, only opportunity.

Evey: Well I think you can be pretty certain that if anyone does show up Creedy’ll black-bag every one of them.

V: People should not be afraid of their governments.  Governments should be afraid of their people.

Evey: And you’ll make that happen by blowing up a building?

V: The building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it.  Symbols are given power by people.  Alone, a symbol is meaningless, but with enough people blowing up a building can change the world. 

Evey: I wish I believed that was possible.  But every time I’ve seen this world change, it’s always been for the worse.
_____

"remember, remember"

[Richard]

--
Evey: I understand what you did for me, and I want to inform you of my gratitude.

Your hands.

V: Yes.

[Humming]

There, better.

I hope I didn’t put you off your appetite

Evey: No, please... Everything all right?

V: Yes, yes, yes, fine.

Evey: Can I ask what happened?

V:  A fire.  A long time ago.  Ancient history, for some. 

Not very good table conversation.

Now, would you care for a cup of tea with your egg?

Evey: Yes, thank you. Starving for a bite, actually.

V: Have a seat.

Evey: [eats] Mmm... delicious.

V: Hm.  Good.

Evey: God, I haven’t had real butter since I stood this tall.  Where did you get it?

V:A government supply train on its way to Chancellor Sutler.

Evey: [clears throat] You stole this from Chancellor Sutler.

V: Yes.

Evey: I question your sanity.

V: “I dare do all that may become a man.  Who dares more cannot claim such a title.”

Evey: Macbeth. Sort of.

V: Very good.

Evey: My mum, she used to read all his plays to me and ever since, I’ve always wanted to act in plays, movies.  At age 9, I played Viola in Twelfth Night.  Made um very proud.

V: Your mothers current location?

Evey: She lives no more.

V: My apologies.

Evey: Can I ask about what you said on the telly?

V: Yes.

Evey: Did you mean it?

V: Every word.

Evey: You really think this place will improve once you blow up Parliament?

V: I place no faith in certainty, only opportunity.

Evey: Well I think you can rest assured that if anyone does show up Creedy’ll black-bag every one of them.

V: People should not fear their governments.  Governments should fear their people.

Evey: And you’ll make that happen by blowing up a building?

V: The building symbolizes something, as does the act of destroying it.  People assign power to symbols.  Alone, a symbol has no meaning, but with enough people blowing up a building can change the world. 

Evey: I wish I believed the veracity of such a postulation.  Every time I’ve seen this world change, it changed for the worse.

---

_{shred of trivia - Alan Moore refuses to watch movies based on his work. I wonder why.}
---

From - My Little Pony : The Movie

We’re witches, wizards, and warlocks!
We’re the reason honest people purchase door locks!
We turn princes into frogs, peasants into pheasants, soldiers and sailors into swine!
We’re never accused of being angels, but as for being devils, we’re divine!
Ohhhh!

All our clan was evil and malicious,
And that is how I want my girls to be!
Work hard at being malicious, and if you’re real ambitious,
You might wind up an evil witch like me!
A terrible, detestable, horrible, despicable, evil mean old witch . . .
Like me!

[BlueHeron]

From - My Little Pony : The Movie

I loved that movie as a kid...
(Why don't they give us an "I feel so ashamed" smiley?  )

We witch, we wizard and warlock!
Because of us, honest people buy door locks!
We turn princes into frogs, peasants into pheasants, soldiers and sailors into swine!
Our behavior is far from angelic, but we've discovered that "devilish" feels divine!
Ohhhh!

All our clan lived evilly and maliciously,
And such a life I want my girls to try!
Work hard acting maliciously, and if you do so ambitiously,
You might wind up as evil a witch as I!
Such a terrible, detestable, horrible, despicable, evil mean old witch . . .
As I!

Whew ... I found it difficult to keep the rhymes!  Good one, Richard.

Here we go:

A Saturday afternoon in November was approaching the time
of twilight, and the vast tract of unenclosed wild known
as Egdon Heath embrowned itself moment by moment.
Overhead the hollow stretch of whitish cloud shutting
out the sky was as a tent which had the whole heath
for its floor.

The heaven being spread with this pallid screen and the
earth with the darkest vegetation, their meeting-line
at the horizon was clearly marked. In such contrast
the heath wore the appearance of an instalment of night
which had taken up its place before its astronomical hour
was come: darkness had to a great extent arrived hereon,
while day stood distinct in the sky. Looking upwards,
a furze-cutter would have been inclined to continue work;
looking down, he would have decided to finish his
faggot and go home. The distant rims of the world
and of the firmament seemed to be a division in time no
less than a division in matter. The face of the heath
by its mere complexion added half an hour to evening;
it could in like manner retard the dawn, sadden noon,
anticipate the frowning of storms scarcely generated,
and intensify the opacity of a moonless midnight to a cause
of shaking and dread.

[Wood]

My first try in the sandbox..

A Saturday afternoon in November approached the twilight, and the vast tract of unenclosed wild known as Egdon Heath embrowned itself moment by moment. Overhead the hollow stretch of whitish cloud shutting
out the sky acted like a tent which had the whole heath
for its floor.

The heaven spread by a pallid screen and the
earth with the darkest vegetation, their meeting-line
at the horizon looked clearly marked. In such contrast
the heath wore the appearance of an instalment of night
which had taken up its place before its astronomical hour came: darkness had to a great extent arrived hereon,
while day stood distinct in the sky. Looking upwards,
a furze-cutter would have felt inclined to continue work;
looking down, he would have decided to finish his
faggot and go home. The distant rims of the world
and of the firmament resembled a division in time no
less than a division in matter. The face of the heath
by its mere complexion added half an hour to evening;
it could in like manner retard the dawn, sadden noon,
anticipate the frowning of storms scarcely generated,
and intensify the opacity of a moonless midnight to a cause
of shaking and dread.

She creeps and crawls and sifts through the montanas, mountains, and arroyos, dry river beds, looking for wolfs bones, and when she has assembled an entire skeleton, when the last bone is in place and the beautiful white sculpture of the creature is laid out before her, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song she will sing.
And when she is sure, she stands over the criatura, raises her arms over it, and sings out. That is when the rib bones and the leg bones of the wolf begin to flesh out and the creature becomes furred. La Loba sings some more, and more of the creature comes into being; its tail curls upward, shaggy and strong.
And La Loba sings more, and the wolf creature begins to breathe.
And still La Loba sings so deeply that the floor of the desert shakes, and as she sings, the wolf opens its eyes, leaps up, and runs away down the canyon.
Somewhere in its running, whether by the speed of its running or by splashing its way into a river, or by way of a ray of sunlight or moonlight hitting it right in the side, the wolf is suddenly transformed into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon.
So remember, if you wander the desert, and it is near sundown, and you are perhaps a little bit lost, and certainly tired, that you are lucky, for La Loba may take a liking to you and show you something-something of the soul.

[starfish]

Quote from: Women Who Run With Wolves
She creeps and crawls and sifts through the montanas, mountains, and arroyos, dry river beds, looking for wolfs bones, and when she has assembled an entire skeleton, when she has placed the last bone and sees the beautiful white sculpture of the creature laid out before her, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song she will sing.
And when she feels sure, she stands over the criatura, raises her arms over it, and sings out. At that time,  the rib bones and the leg bones of the wolf begin to flesh out and the creature becomes furred. La Loba sings some more, and more of the creature comes into existence; its tail curls upward, shaggy and strong.
And La Loba sings more, and the wolf creature begins to breathe.
And still La Loba sings so deeply that the floor of the desert shakes, and as she sings, the wolf opens its eyes, leaps up, and runs away down the canyon.
Somewhere in its running, whether by the speed of its running or by splashing its way into a river, or by way of a ray of sunlight or moonlight hitting it right in the side, the wolf suddenly transforms into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon.
So remember, if you wander the desert, and sundown draws near, and you feel perhaps a little bit lost, and certainly tired, than you have good luck, for La Loba may take a liking to you and show you something - something of the soul.

"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy, "are you a real witch?"

"Yes, indeed;" answered the little woman.  "But I am a good witch, and the people love me.  I am not as powerful as the wicked witch was who ruled here, or i should have set the people free myself."

"But i thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a real witch.

"Oh, no; that is a great mistake.  There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches.  I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken.  Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches, but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one wicked witch in all the Land of Oz - the one who lives in the West.

"But," said Dorothy after a moments thought, "Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead - years and years ago."

"Who is Aunt Em?" asked the little old woman.

"She is my aunt who lives in Kansas, where I come from."

The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground.  Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas is, for i have never heard that country mentioned before.  But tell me, is it a civilzed country?'

"Oh, yes," replied Dorothy.

"Then that accounts for it.  In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches left; nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians.  But you see, the Land of Oz has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world.  Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us

."

[starfish]

Do I have to play with myself to get any attention around here?!

Quote from: The Wizard of Oz
"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy, "Do you really practice witchcraft?"

"Yes, indeed;" answered the little woman.  "But I practice good witchcraft, and the people love me.  I don't have as much power as the wicked witch who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself."

"But I thought only wicked people practiced witchcraft," said the girl, who felt half frightened at facing a real witch.

"Oh, no; you've made a great mistake.  You could find only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, practice good witchcraft.  I know I speak truth, for I consider myself one of them, so I cannot make a mistake.  Those who dwelt in the East and the West did, indeed, practice wicked witchcraft, but now that you have killed one of them, you can find but one wicked witch in all the Land of Oz - the one who lives in the West.

"But," said Dorothy after a moments thought, "Aunt Em has told me that the witches all died - years and years ago."

"tell me about Aunt Em." said the little old woman.

"She lives with me in Kansas, where I come from."

The Witch of the North seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground.  Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas lies, for I have never heard that country mentioned before.  But tell me, would you consider it a civilized country?'

"Oh, yes," replied Dorothy.

"Then that accounts for it.  In the civilized countries I believe you can find no witches left; nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians.  But you see, the Land of Oz has never experienced civilization, for we have cut ourselves off from all the rest of the world.  Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."

Before he'd married Mary Lynn, Jeremiah had always believed there was too much talk of race, that white people were all too willing to be racist and that brown people were just as willing and just as racist.  As a rational scientist, he'd known that race was primarily a social construct, illusionary, but as the husband of an Indian woman and the father of Indian children, he'd since learned that race, whatever its construction, was real.  Now there were plenty of white people who wanted to eliminate the idea of race, to cast it aside as an unwanted invention, but it was far too late for that.  If white people are the mad scientists who created race, thought Jeremiah, then we created race so we could enslave black people and kill Indians, and now race has become the Frankenstein monster that has grown beyond our control.  Though he'd once been willfully blind, Jeremiah had learned to recognize that monster in the faces of whites and Indians and in there eyes.

[Peter Bauer]

Before he'd married Mary Lynn, Jeremiah had always believed people spoke too much of race, that white people felt all too willing to speak their racism and that brown people felt just as willing and just as racist.  As a rational scientist, he'd known that race worked primarily a social construct, illusionary, but as the husband of an Indian woman and the father of Indian children, he'd since learned that race, whatever its construction, had an over-whealming presence.  Now, plenty of white people want to eliminate the idea of race, to cast it aside as an unwanted invention, but it seemed far too late for that.  If white, mad scientists did not create race, thought Jeremiah, then we created race so we could enslave black people and kill Indians, and now race has become the Frankenstein monster that has grown beyond our control.  Though he'd once felt willfully blind, Jeremiah had learned to recognize that monster in the faces of whites and Indians and in there eyes.

Can you retain the hilarity in this sketch... in e-prime???

Abbott: Who is on first!

Costello: I'm asking YOU who's on first.

Abbott: That's the man's name.

Costello: That's who's name?

Abbott: Yes.

Costello: Well go ahead and tell me.

Abbott: That's it.

Costello: That's who?

Abbott: Yes.

[starfish]

Abbott: Who stands on first!

Costello: I want to ask YOU who stands on first.

Abbott: No, we call him that!

Costello: Call who that?

Abbott: Yes.

Costello: Well go ahead and tell me.

Abbott: I just said; Who!

Costello: Who?

Abbott: Yes.

The people in this book might be going to have lived a long, long time from now in Northern California...

The difficulty of translation from a language that doesn't yet exist is considerable, but there's no need to exaggerate it.  The past after all, can be quite as obscure as the future.  The ancient Chinese book called Tao Teh Ching has been translated into English dozens of times, and indeed, the Chinese have to keep retranslating it into Chinese at every cycle of Cathay, but no translation can give us the book that Lao Tze (who may not have existed) wrote.  All we have is the Tao Teh Ching that is here, now.  And so with translations from the (or a) future.  The fact that it hasn't yet been written, the mere absence of a text to translate, doesn't make all that much difference.  What was and what may be lie, like children whose faces we cannot see, in the arms of silence.  All we ever have is here, now.

[Peter Bauer]

The people in this book may have lived a long, long time from now in Northern California...

The difficulty of translation from a language that doesn't yet exist feels considerable, but I see no need to exaggerate ki.  The past after all, can appear quite as obscure as the future.  Many people have translated the ancient Chinese book called Tao Teh Ching into English dozens of times, and indeed, the Chinese have to keep retranslating ki into Chinese at every cycle of Cathay, but no translation can give us the book that Lao Tze (who may not have existed) wrote.  We can only see the Tao Teh Ching that we have here, now.  And so with translations from the (or a) future.  The fact that no one has yet written ki, the mere absence of a text to translate, doesn't make all that much difference.  What we have seen and what we may still see lie, like children whose faces we cannot see, in the arms of silence.  All we ever have we can see here, now.

What the fuck. That feels like the most difficult gibberish-is-sentence I have read in a long time. No wonder no one has jumped on this challenge. nice work starfish!

Okay, now I'll go for something a little easier... Feel free to use the gender neutral pronoun "ki"?

Tom Brown Jr. is a renowned outdoorsman, tracker, teacher, and author of 16 books. He was born Jan 29, 1950 in South Tom's River, NJ. Starting when he was only seven Tom was taught by Stalking Wolf (Grandfather), an Apache elder, shaman, and scout. For ten years Tom was mentored in the skills of tracking, wilderness survival, and awareness. After Stalking Wolf's death when Brown was 17, Tom spent the next ten years living in the wilderness throughout the United States with no manufactured tools - in most instances not even a knife - perfecting these skills and teachings. Brown came back to" civilization" looking for people interested in all he had learned. He felt lost and confused until a local sheriff who knew Tom called him in to track a lost person. Tom found the missing person and in the process, found his path in life.

[starfish]

Why thank you, Urban Scout 

Quote from: Tom Brown Jr. Bio
Tom Brown Jr. has earned great renown for kis skills in outdoor living, tracking, teaching, and writing 16 books. On a cold January day in the middle of the New Jersey winter of 1950, Tom emerged, red faced and wailing, from kis mother's womb.  When Tom had lived seven years, Stalking Wolf (Grandfather), an Apache elder, shaman, and scout took Tom under kis wing. For ten years they learned together.  Stalking Wolf mentored Tom in the skills of tracking, wilderness survival, and awareness until kis death in 1967. Tom spent the next ten years living in the wilderness throughout the United States with no manufactured tools - in most instances not even a knife - perfecting these skills and teachings. Brown came back to" civilization" looking for people interested in all ki had learned. Ki felt lost and confused until a local sheriff who knew Tom called ki in to track a lost person. Tom found the missing person and in the process, found kis path in life.

This book drove me crazy last night with all kis "to be's".  See what you all  can do with ki.

Franklin was a son, a grandson, and a nephew.  But he was not a brother.  Franklin often thought about being a big brother, and he wondered what it would be like to have a baby in the family.  Franklin was going to find out soon, because his best friend, Bear, was about to become a big brother....

The next day at school, Bear was still talking about the baby.

"I get to stay at Franklin's when the baby is ready to be born," he told Snail.

"A sleepover!" Snail cried.  "I wish my mom were having a baby."

"Me too," said Franklin.  "When you're a big brother, you've got someone to play with all the time."

...."Hooray!" cried Franklin and Bear.  "The baby is coming!"

Franklin's mother asked Bear what he would like for supper.  Bear could hardly believe his good luck.

"I'm going to be a big brother.  I'm sleeping over at my best friend's house.  And I'm having pancakes with blueberries!"

Franklin was happy too, but he couldn't help feeling a little jealous.

"Gee," he said, "lots of good things happen when you're a big brother."

... They tried to fall asleep, but they were still awake when Franklin's parents came in to tell them the big news.

"Bear, you have a brand new baby sister!" anounced Franklin's mother.

"Wow! Now you really are a big brother," said Franklin.

"Bear looked as if he would burst with pride.  "This is my best day ever!" he said.

A few days later Franklin walked over to Bear's house.  He found Bear sitting on the front steps.

"Why aren't you playing with your little sister?" asked Franklin.

"She's too little and she sleeps all the time," sighed Bear.  "Being a big brother isn't as much fun as I thought it would be."

edit:  Oops, I forgot to use ki

[BlueHeron]

Franklin had parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles.  But ki did not have a brother or sister.  Franklin often thought about having a younger sibling, and ki wondered how it would feel to have a baby in the family.  Franklin knew ki would find out soon, because kis best friend, Bear, would soon have a little baby brother or sister....

The next day at school, Bear talked about the baby.

"I get to stay at Franklin's when the baby begins to arrive," ki told Snail.

"A sleepover!" Snail cried.  "I wish my mom expected a baby."

"Me too," said Franklin.  "Big brothers have someone to play with all the time."

...."Hooray!" cried Franklin and Bear.  "The baby will arrive soon!"

Franklin's mother asked Bear what ki would like for supper.  Bear could hardly believe kis good luck.

"I'll soon have a little baby brother or sister.  I get to sleep over at my best friend's house.  And I'll eat pancakes with blueberries!"

Franklin shared Bear's happiness, but ki couldn't help feeling a little jealous.

"Gee," ki said, "lots of good things happen to big brothers."

... They tried to fall asleep, but they remained awake until Franklin's parents came in to tell them the big news.

"Bear, you have a brand new baby sister!" announced Franklin's mother.

"Wow! Now you really can call yourself a big brother," said Franklin.

Bear looked as if ki would burst with pride.  "This feels like the best day ever!" ki said.

A few days later Franklin walked over to Bear's house.  Ki found Bear sitting on the front steps.

"Why don't you play with your little sister?" asked Franklin.

"Ki needs to grow bigger before I can play with ki, and ki sleeps all the time," sighed Bear.  "Big brothers don't have as much fun as I thought."

---------

I felt weird using "ki" while keeping words like "aunt" "uncle" "brother" "sister" etc.  I don't know any gender-neutral word for "aunts and uncles," and using "sibling" over and over feels so formal to me... ack...

---------

New challenge:

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.  I'm stupid about executions.  The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers--goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me on every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway.  It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.

I thought it must be the worst thing in the world.

New York was bad enough.  By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream.  Mirage-grey at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat.

I kept hearing about the Rosenbergs over the radio and at the office till I couldn't get them out of my mind.  It was like the first time I saw a cadaver.  For weeks afterward, the cadaver's head--or what there was left of it--floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and behind the face of Buddy Willard, who was responsible for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I were carrying that cadaver's head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

[Peter Bauer]

E-priming that shit:

It felt like a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know why I had come to do in New York.  I stupidly execution things.  The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and and I couldn't find anything else to read about in the papers--goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me on every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway.  It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like, burning alive all along your nerves.

I thought it must feel like the worst thing in the world.

New York felt bad enough.  By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream.  Mirage-grey at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat.

I kept hearing about the Rosenbergs over the radio and at the office till I couldn't get them out of my mind.  It reminded me of the first time I saw a cadaver.  For weeks afterward, the cadaver's head--or what I saw left of it--floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and behind the face of Buddy Willard, who took responsibility for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I carried that cadaver's head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

Wow. A little rusty, even though I still write in E-prime regularly. The translation of prose can feel excruciatingly difficult. Hm... Where should I draw from...

Rewilding is the process of creating permanently wild human cultures beyond domestication.[1]  In green anarchism and anarcho-primitivism, humans are said to be "civilized" or "domesticated" by civilization. Supporters of such human rewilding argue that through the process of domestication, human wildness has been altered by force, resulting in a tame humanity suffering disease and PTSD.[2]  Rewilding, then, is about overcoming human domestication and returning to non-fear-based behavior and ways of perceiving and interacting with the world that are inherent in human wildness. Though often associated with primitive skills and learning knowledge of wild plants  and animals, it emphasizes the development of the five senses and of senses unknown to Western civilization, often collectively dubbed "nature awareness". Rewilding is more than just a number of skills and practices or a specific set of knowledge, it is a holistic approach to living.

[vaguelyhumanoid]

E-priming that shit:

It felt like a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know why I had come to do in New York.  I stupidly execution things.  The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and and I couldn't find anything else to read about in the papers--goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me on every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway.  It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like, burning alive all along your nerves.

I thought it must feel like the worst thing in the world.

New York felt bad enough.  By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream.  Mirage-grey at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat.

I kept hearing about the Rosenbergs over the radio and at the office till I couldn't get them out of my mind.  It reminded me of the first time I saw a cadaver.  For weeks afterward, the cadaver's head--or what I saw left of it--floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and behind the face of Buddy Willard, who took responsibility for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I carried that cadaver's head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

Wow. A little rusty, even though I still write in E-prime regularly. The translation of prose can feel excruciatingly difficult. Hm... Where should I draw from...

Rewilding is the process of creating permanently wild human cultures beyond domestication.[1]  In green anarchism and anarcho-primitivism, humans are said to be "civilized" or "domesticated" by civilization. Supporters of such human rewilding argue that through the process of domestication, human wildness has been altered by force, resulting in a tame humanity suffering disease and PTSD.[2]  Rewilding, then, is about overcoming human domestication and returning to non-fear-based behavior and ways of perceiving and interacting with the world that are inherent in human wildness. Though often associated with primitive skills and learning knowledge of wild plants  and animals, it emphasizes the development of the five senses and of senses unknown to Western civilization, often collectively dubbed "nature awareness". Rewilding is more than just a number of skills and practices or a specific set of knowledge, it is a holistic approach to living.

Here goes nothing:

Rewilding aims to create permanently wild human cultures beyond domestication.[1]  In green anarchism and anarcho-primitivism, they say "civilization" and "domestication" have happened to humans. Supporters of such human rewilding argue that through the process of domestication, force altered human wildness, resulting in a tame humanity suffering disease and PTSD.[2]  Rewilding, then, tries to overcome human domestication and return to non-fear-based behavior and ways of perceiving and interacting with the world inherent in human wildness. Though often associated with primitive skills and learning knowledge of wild plants  and animals, it emphasizes the development of the five senses and of senses unknown to Western civilization, often collectively dubbed "nature awareness". Rewilding goes beyond skills, practices and a specific set of knowledge, it forms a holistic way of life.

[vaguelyhumanoid]

E-priming that shit:

It felt like a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know why I had come to do in New York.  I stupidly execution things.  The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and and I couldn't find anything else to read about in the papers--goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me on every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway.  It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like, burning alive all along your nerves.

I thought it must feel like the worst thing in the world.

New York felt bad enough.  By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream.  Mirage-grey at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat.

I kept hearing about the Rosenbergs over the radio and at the office till I couldn't get them out of my mind.  It reminded me of the first time I saw a cadaver.  For weeks afterward, the cadaver's head--or what I saw left of it--floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast and behind the face of Buddy Willard, who took responsibility for my seeing it in the first place, and pretty soon I felt as though I carried that cadaver's head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

Wow. A little rusty, even though I still write in E-prime regularly. The translation of prose can feel excruciatingly difficult. Hm... Where should I draw from...

Rewilding is the process of creating permanently wild human cultures beyond domestication.[1]  In green anarchism and anarcho-primitivism, humans are said to be "civilized" or "domesticated" by civilization. Supporters of such human rewilding argue that through the process of domestication, human wildness has been altered by force, resulting in a tame humanity suffering disease and PTSD.[2]  Rewilding, then, is about overcoming human domestication and returning to non-fear-based behavior and ways of perceiving and interacting with the world that are inherent in human wildness. Though often associated with primitive skills and learning knowledge of wild plants  and animals, it emphasizes the development of the five senses and of senses unknown to Western civilization, often collectively dubbed "nature awareness". Rewilding is more than just a number of skills and practices or a specific set of knowledge, it is a holistic approach to living.

Here goes nothing:

Rewilding aims to create permanently wild human cultures beyond domestication.[1]  In green anarchism and anarcho-primitivism, they say "civilization" and "domestication" have happened to humans. Supporters of such human rewilding argue that through the process of domestication, force altered human wildness, resulting in a tame humanity suffering disease and PTSD.[2]  Rewilding, then, tries to overcome human domestication and return to non-fear-based behavior and ways of perceiving and interacting with the world inherent in human wildness. Though often associated with primitive skills and learning knowledge of wild plants  and animals, it emphasizes the development of the five senses and of senses unknown to Western civilization, often collectively dubbed "nature awareness". Rewilding goes beyond skills, practices and a specific set of knowledge, it forms a holistic way of life.

Next challenge:

The concept of spectacle unifies and explains a great diversity of apparent phenomena. The diversity and the contrasts are appearances of a socially organized appearance, the general truth of which must itself be recognized. Considered in its own terms, the spectacle is affirmation of appearance and affirmation of all human life, namely social life, as mere appearance. But the critique which reaches the truth of the spectacle exposes it as the visible negation of life, as a negation of life which has become visible.