WG: Author Function

If I were a factual writer I would describe autumn as the season of the year that sits between summer and winter. The season where the green summer leaves turn brown, yellow and red - only to wither completely away. I would then argue that this is – as proven through science – a completely natural process, in which the botanic nature around us prepares for winter in order to survive the cold, and at the same time a process in which trees, brushes and bushes consolidate their strengths, and await the next summer.

But if I, on the other hand, were a Romantic author I might use autumn as a metaphor or a simile for describing something else. I might say: The tree still stood stoic, but it would not be long now. All the leaves had already withered and died, and the fierce autumn wind was about to deal this ageing giant its final gust, bringing it to the ground. This would actually describe an important, proud old man with declining health in the moments before his death.

I could, however, also be a poet, and use a poem to describe my immediate feelings about autumn, something which I already did in writing game 1:

Autumn

Autumn’s coming makes one sad

However, it’s not all bad

Cold rain and Fierce wind

Cleansing one of summer’s sin

Making way for winter, then spring

And the promise of a new summer this will bring

Team Awesome - Anders, Marina, Trine, Stine og Mette

Game 1: ”Her pretty soul sharply tries her luscious snake”

Game 2: “Her cuprous move intends to deceive everyone, thy man silently snug past the guards, the protection notion shines the bright message, your mother actually hates her green lantern”

The Duchess

My last Duchess – Ferrara

It was a beautiful house, it looked almost magical. I was excited about being there. I had heard many stories about this place. I decided to take a look myself and really getting to know the truth about these stories. It turned out to be exactly how I was told.

It all started one fine summer’s day. I had received a personal invitation from the Duke himself. He had heard of my interest in him and his “castle” and in his story. The day came and I was on my way. The duke greeted me in the hallway and said that now we were going on a small tour to see the whole house and then at the end we would end up in the attic, where he had his world-famous art collection, the one I was most interested to see, which the Duke obviously knew and therefore, he had put it as the last thing on the tour. Even though his famous art collection was up in the attic, he had one picture in the hall it was a very big and very beautiful picture. I was drawn to it in a way totally unexplainable, and I couldn’t really control myself. I just had to ask him. I addressed the Duke and asked him directly as to who was in the picture. Suddenly, I noticed a small change in the Duke’s eyes. It was as if my words, my question, touched something very dear to him, something that had been deeply hidden in his memory and by the sound of my voice and my question of who the woman in the picture was, finally found its way back into the Duke’s mind.

He pointed and told me the story, the story of a woman, his wife, the Duchess.

It was one of the most beautiful stories I have ever heard. The way the Duke spoke of the Duchess was filled with a lot of emotions. Through the whole tour of the house I became more and more aware of what happened to the Duchess and that I was about to realize that the stories I heard before entering this atmosphere was true. I left the house and as I was walking along the driveway towards the gate I stopped and looked back on the great Mansion. I stood there and for a moment I thought, ”He did it?!”

Word Hoard - Backwards

“Healed am I now but destroyed was I”

“Great are pancakes”

“It likes everybody, it like you, it like I, good is beer”

“I was sitting in my room, watching TV

And was listening carefully

I thought I heard something wrong

But no it was very strong

“It likes everybody, it like you, it like I, good is beer”

I was thinking that is was a kind of queer

I got up, went to the kitchen craving beer,

There I saw Jim impersonating Yoda

It cracked me up and I decided only to drink a soda”

Writing Game 1 - Poem

“You told me only lies

They all smelled like ugly flies

You said you were mine

That I was your beautiful shrine

Where are we now?

I don’t know how?

Where did we go wrong?”

Julie OJ : A prophecy from a hippie prophet

The end of the world.


The state of the world at present equals our own destruction. We are in the makings of destroying our place of living: Mother Earth. All we do is taking and taking and taking her resources without giving something back. We consume her each day, destroying her beauty.
Mankind was once a group member but has developed into something individual and selfish resulting in loneliness hard to explain. If we continue down this path, Mother Earth will certainly die and we will lye dying by her side as we all take our last breaths.

The connection to the supreme universe has been lost and man finds himself left behind. We might think that all your technology is advancing man, yet it takes us only closer to eradication.
The only true way of saving mankind, our universe and dearest Mother Earth is to creative a world, where we live along side nature, taking care each other as well as our community and nature.

The sentence from the word hoard is "demanding so is work" which I have used as the beginning of this writing game.

Demanding, so is work. I guess not all work is equally demanding, but we all feel that our job, what ever it might be, sucks out the best part of our daily lives. That is if we have a job. Many that don’t have jobs whish they could go to work in the morning and many who work wish they didn’t have to. Then of course there are those that wish they didn’t have to go home at the end of the day, but come on. That’s pathetic. Though working is a nuisance and we often feel there is much stuff we would rather be doing, it does feel like we are hard wired to function better with a job to go to every day. Without a job we start to feel useless, our identity is diminishing and the things we take pleasure in when coming home from work seem trivial and stupid when they are not put in contrast to a job. Perhaps I should go find myself a job I can live through so I don’t have to base my self image on my own thoughts and feelings.

Commerce!

O whence the day cometh where I shall go down to el supermercado.

I shall purchase the finest apricots and consume them under the prettiest apple tree.

Afterwards I shall put on my top hat taketh the penny-farthing down to the lake where I shall gawk at the ducks careening on their side, bottom’s in air.

I notice that the Ice Cream Parlor has now released their 83^rd flavor, linoleum.

I partake in the heavenly treat and gag VIOLENTLY!

The tasteth of linoleum needeth to gets washedeth out.

I spoteth the exquisite Burgeth Kingeth where the owner, Burger King, greeteth me with fries and shakes.

I acquire his delicious burgers and consume them like some Fenris coming to devour the world.

After the hardy meal I waddle down to the Sharper Image where I obtain several nonsense items useful only for a brief moment in the life of an ex heroin junkie somewhere in Tampa, Florida.

Yet I get a hold of a staggering amount of goods such as neck massager and a stress ball for ones buttocks.

I make off with my loot to my lavish estate, filled with cheap ass gold polish and also gold Polish.

Fin.

(A mixture of troubadour & hack.. mostly hack :( )