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Think the unthinkable, do the undoable. Let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all.
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You are a robot sent to explore the outer rim of the Milky Way galaxy. You have returned to Earth after 200 years. What is the first thing you say?
Written by AWriter in portal Sci-Fi

Just Wanted to Say...

After a little loading a metallic voice spoke, "Ladies and Gents, the Galaxies best regards; may the Force be with you through these early years."

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You are a robot sent to explore the outer rim of the Milky Way galaxy. You have returned to Earth after 200 years. What is the first thing you say?
Written by AWriter in portal Sci-Fi
Just Wanted to Say...
After a little loading a metallic voice spoke, "Ladies and Gents, the Galaxies best regards; may the Force be with you through these early years."
#scifi  #fiction  #future  #flashfiction  #robot 
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Written by AWriter in portal Poetry & Free Verse

TIL

I admit,

I knew bombilate.

So rotund a word,

For a buzzing sound.

However, this where I get cleverer!

I didn't know about bombulate.

A word most fitting, for sitting around

A campfire, beans abound.

Although I now do wonder,

If bees Bombulate while they bombilate?

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Written by AWriter in portal Poetry & Free Verse
TIL
I admit,
I knew bombilate.
So rotund a word,
For a buzzing sound.
However, this where I get cleverer!
I didn't know about bombulate.
A word most fitting, for sitting around
A campfire, beans abound.

Although I now do wonder,
If bees Bombulate while they bombilate?

#nonfiction  #education  #poetry  #words 
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Written by AWriter in portal Words

TIL...

I admit, 

I knew bombilate.

So rotund a word,

For a buzzing sound. 

However, this where I get cleverer!

I didn't know about bombulate.

A word most fitting, for sitting around

A campfire, beans abound. 

Although I now do wonder,

If bees Bombulate while they bombilate?

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Written by AWriter in portal Words
TIL...
I admit, 
I knew bombilate.
So rotund a word,
For a buzzing sound. 
However, this where I get cleverer!
I didn't know about bombulate.
A word most fitting, for sitting around
A campfire, beans abound. 

Although I now do wonder,
If bees Bombulate while they bombilate?



#poetry  #words  #bees  #TIL 
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Cat
Written by AWriter

A Right C.A.T

I am Right, 

You know I am.

You are Human; flawed, slow, unwise

I am Cat; perfect, majestic, Ruler of All, Wisest of Wise.

I am Right,

Com'on, you know I am.

For I am Cat,

So do as I say and feed me already!

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Cat
Written by AWriter
A Right C.A.T
I am Right, 
You know I am.

You are Human; flawed, slow, unwise
I am Cat; perfect, majestic, Ruler of All, Wisest of Wise.

I am Right,
Com'on, you know I am.

For I am Cat,
So do as I say and feed me already!
#fiction  #poetry  #philosophy  #culture 
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With Beauty and the Beast being adapted to live-action being released tomorrow, what is your favorite Disney animated movie of all time, or which Disney animated film would you like to see adapted to live-action?
Written by AWriter in portal Reviews

Save these memories, they do not need to be remade.

Oh please, I beg of you

Leave my childhood alone!

Look what you have done,

The list of crimes is long,

To that shining memory,

The Jungle Book.

As I wait to see another crime

I beg and plead; save these memories, 

They do not need to be remade;

Let this be the last!

Oh please, I beg of you

Leave my childhood alone!

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With Beauty and the Beast being adapted to live-action being released tomorrow, what is your favorite Disney animated movie of all time, or which Disney animated film would you like to see adapted to live-action?
Written by AWriter in portal Reviews
Save these memories, they do not need to be remade.
Oh please, I beg of you
Leave my childhood alone!

Look what you have done,
The list of crimes is long,
To that shining memory,
The Jungle Book.

As I wait to see another crime
I beg and plead; save these memories, 
They do not need to be remade;
Let this be the last!

Oh please, I beg of you
Leave my childhood alone!

#fantasy  #nonfiction  #horror  #poetry  #opinion 
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Written by AWriter in portal Micropoetry

Where Art Thee Mouse?

There is a Mouse

In the House.

The question here,

Is not How or Why, but rather Where;

And how to get it out? 

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Written by AWriter in portal Micropoetry
Where Art Thee Mouse?
There is a Mouse
In the House.
The question here,
Is not How or Why, but rather Where;
And how to get it out? 
#fiction  #adventure  #poetry  #mystery 
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Written by AWriter in portal Nonfiction

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim."

The quote in the title of this piece has been around for a long long time. It's first incarnation is from Roman times, the rhetorician Quintilian (35 AD – 100 AD) said, “The perfection of art is to conceal art.” Another unattributed, and probably more contemporary version says, "ars est celare artem" or “True art is to conceal art.” In more recent times Oscar Wilde said, “To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim." It is also the what inspired this piece. 

While the sentiment of the art in art being to conceal the artists hand within a piece may seem contrary, it is one that I can agree with wholeheartedly. When you write, the reader must not see the writer behind the words, only the world, the information that you, the writer, are trying to convey to the reader. 

This does not mean that I do not believe that creativity comes from the self, or that a writer should not have a "voice", just as an artist has a personal and unique style, writers have their own way of creating. But self must never get in the way of the subject. Think of it as... As if the self is a frame, it is there to hold the subject, to allow others to easily view the subject, but you don't want them looking at the frame instead of what is being framed. In fact they should be totally unaware of the frame, the words used to create the piece; all they should be aware of is the subject, what image, feeling, does it bring to them. What it took to create it, what holds it, even who made it should not be impacting the reader or getting between the reader and the subject. 

I would say that writing, as with every work of art, should be "selfless" in that it shouldn't ever be about the creator. Rather it should be about the subject. They use their creativity to give voice to the subject matter. The creators job, be they a artist, a writer, or a photographer, is to express their chosen subject matter in a way that others can connect with it. The fact is that you cannot expect a full connection to occur with the creators self. 

In order to truly touch a viewer you need to have something that will touch upon one of the few universal emotions that we all have. This I personally think is one of the biggest responsibilities of a creator, to create something bigger than just themselves, to give something to the world, to the people that will come across their work. You give, not in the hope of gaining some reward but to change a little of the world around you. Hopefully for the good. 

Once again the creator has to step back, let the viewer find their own way about things. All we can do is give them something worth looking at, worth reading. We have to let go of the self and create something timeless, something that is more than just our personal lives splashed about.

Having the reader concentrate on you, the writer, serves no purpose except take the readers attention away from where it should be, on the work, and not on the artist.

For it really is art to conceal art.

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Written by AWriter in portal Nonfiction
"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim."
The quote in the title of this piece has been around for a long long time. It's first incarnation is from Roman times, the rhetorician Quintilian (35 AD – 100 AD) said, “The perfection of art is to conceal art.” Another unattributed, and probably more contemporary version says, "ars est celare artem" or “True art is to conceal art.” In more recent times Oscar Wilde said, “To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim." It is also the what inspired this piece. 

While the sentiment of the art in art being to conceal the artists hand within a piece may seem contrary, it is one that I can agree with wholeheartedly. When you write, the reader must not see the writer behind the words, only the world, the information that you, the writer, are trying to convey to the reader. 

This does not mean that I do not believe that creativity comes from the self, or that a writer should not have a "voice", just as an artist has a personal and unique style, writers have their own way of creating. But self must never get in the way of the subject. Think of it as... As if the self is a frame, it is there to hold the subject, to allow others to easily view the subject, but you don't want them looking at the frame instead of what is being framed. In fact they should be totally unaware of the frame, the words used to create the piece; all they should be aware of is the subject, what image, feeling, does it bring to them. What it took to create it, what holds it, even who made it should not be impacting the reader or getting between the reader and the subject. 

I would say that writing, as with every work of art, should be "selfless" in that it shouldn't ever be about the creator. Rather it should be about the subject. They use their creativity to give voice to the subject matter. The creators job, be they a artist, a writer, or a photographer, is to express their chosen subject matter in a way that others can connect with it. The fact is that you cannot expect a full connection to occur with the creators self. 

In order to truly touch a viewer you need to have something that will touch upon one of the few universal emotions that we all have. This I personally think is one of the biggest responsibilities of a creator, to create something bigger than just themselves, to give something to the world, to the people that will come across their work. You give, not in the hope of gaining some reward but to change a little of the world around you. Hopefully for the good. 

Once again the creator has to step back, let the viewer find their own way about things. All we can do is give them something worth looking at, worth reading. We have to let go of the self and create something timeless, something that is more than just our personal lives splashed about.

Having the reader concentrate on you, the writer, serves no purpose except take the readers attention away from where it should be, on the work, and not on the artist.

For it really is art to conceal art.
#fiction  #nonfiction  #philosophy  #writing  #writingadvice 
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Star Trek or Star Wars? Why? (Please tag me, @Tee_Hi)
Written by AWriter

That Would Depend....

I used to say Star Wars it was mine, it was the answer that I never needed to think about. I loved the underlining hope and joy and never give up attitude of the movies. They way the characters could make a joke in the face of even the most doomed looking scenario. That is until recently, with the release of the new Star Wars movies. I mean in the last one EVERYONE DIES (spoiler). So I have to admit that I find that I no longer can just simply say Star Wars like I used to. I now have to add the addendum of  "But only the original trilogy" or "only the old movies" if I want to include the prequels. 

Fact is that even though Star Trek has had it's ups and downs it has always remained watchable. Even the new movies, although flawed are sittable throughable. They also seem to have managed to keep the feel, the idea of Star Trek over the years. The joy of exploration, the ideals of the possibility a world were all are treated fairly and what matters is who you are rather than what you are.

So maybe, maybe it depends. Maybe I am changing sides... I don't know.  I still love the original Star Wars Trilogy but I can't over look that fact that Star Trek has kept its principles, ideas, themes, whatever you want to call them, where Star Wars has lost it. 

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Star Trek or Star Wars? Why? (Please tag me, @Tee_Hi)
Written by AWriter
That Would Depend....
I used to say Star Wars it was mine, it was the answer that I never needed to think about. I loved the underlining hope and joy and never give up attitude of the movies. They way the characters could make a joke in the face of even the most doomed looking scenario. That is until recently, with the release of the new Star Wars movies. I mean in the last one EVERYONE DIES (spoiler). So I have to admit that I find that I no longer can just simply say Star Wars like I used to. I now have to add the addendum of  "But only the original trilogy" or "only the old movies" if I want to include the prequels. 

Fact is that even though Star Trek has had it's ups and downs it has always remained watchable. Even the new movies, although flawed are sittable throughable. They also seem to have managed to keep the feel, the idea of Star Trek over the years. The joy of exploration, the ideals of the possibility a world were all are treated fairly and what matters is who you are rather than what you are.

So maybe, maybe it depends. Maybe I am changing sides... I don't know.  I still love the original Star Wars Trilogy but I can't over look that fact that Star Trek has kept its principles, ideas, themes, whatever you want to call them, where Star Wars has lost it. 
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Part 6 Final scene! It seems we have come to the end of the road....however, if enough show interest I will continue...so keep that in mind when you are writing the gripping end! I would like to feel the gamut of emotion in this write. Make me laugh, and cry and get angry all in the last few paragraphs. Thank you all for participating! This has been great fun! It's been so fun...you get 400 words to wow me in your ending! One stipulation...that is also the minimum word limit as well!
Written by AWriter in portal Fiction

Beneath the Vaulted Eaves Part Six - Light

Althalus stood in an empty hall, in an empty town. It had been a long since the last person had lived here, the low stone buildings crumbling with age. In his hand he held a sword, its power cut stray dust motes in half a good inch from the edge of the blade. With twirl of the sword, he took ahold of the power within, sweeping away the dust and ruin.

He walked out of the shifting and rumbling hall, through doors that were fabricating themselves out of nothing. He looked up at the dim sun and closed his eyes. The sword seemed to need to move, every swing, every turn releasing a little more power, its edge cutting through what was, too create what was wanted... with a final slice Althalus released the magic and, slowly at first, light returned to the town. 

Before long word had reached the Overlord. As the second day dawned Althalus stepped outside to find the him waiting at the foot of the stair. His back was turned,  "Why are you challenging me?" his voice was odd, to loud yet too quiet.

Althalus started down the stairs as he answered, "You let the Shadows in, you killed all who questioned your power, tell me why I should not defy you?" 

The Overlord turned, Althalus saw the madness in his eyes, "Because I am greater than you." 

Althalus stopped and looked around at the early morning light, "Have you ever light a candle?" He asked,

"What have candles got to do with this?"

"However great the dark may seem, however filled with fears and monsters, the light always chases it away."

In answer the Overlord commanded the Shadows to attack, but as soon as they touched by the sunlight, they crumbled to nothing. Rage sparkled in his eyes as he lifted the scepter, power filling every part of his mind.

But to slow, to ruled by his power, Althalus had already thrown the magic blade, spinning like a throwing dagger, it pierced his hart. With a clatter the scepter fell, the power holding the shadows failed and they dashed away.

Althalus gathered up his sword and sent the scepter far away, where no hand could touch it. Time would be needed, shadows still filtered through the air, but now at least, a candle had been light and hope was there to chase the dark away. 

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Part 6 Final scene! It seems we have come to the end of the road....however, if enough show interest I will continue...so keep that in mind when you are writing the gripping end! I would like to feel the gamut of emotion in this write. Make me laugh, and cry and get angry all in the last few paragraphs. Thank you all for participating! This has been great fun! It's been so fun...you get 400 words to wow me in your ending! One stipulation...that is also the minimum word limit as well!
Written by AWriter in portal Fiction
Beneath the Vaulted Eaves Part Six - Light
Althalus stood in an empty hall, in an empty town. It had been a long since the last person had lived here, the low stone buildings crumbling with age. In his hand he held a sword, its power cut stray dust motes in half a good inch from the edge of the blade. With twirl of the sword, he took ahold of the power within, sweeping away the dust and ruin.

He walked out of the shifting and rumbling hall, through doors that were fabricating themselves out of nothing. He looked up at the dim sun and closed his eyes. The sword seemed to need to move, every swing, every turn releasing a little more power, its edge cutting through what was, too create what was wanted... with a final slice Althalus released the magic and, slowly at first, light returned to the town. 

Before long word had reached the Overlord. As the second day dawned Althalus stepped outside to find the him waiting at the foot of the stair. His back was turned,  "Why are you challenging me?" his voice was odd, to loud yet too quiet.

Althalus started down the stairs as he answered, "You let the Shadows in, you killed all who questioned your power, tell me why I should not defy you?" 

The Overlord turned, Althalus saw the madness in his eyes, "Because I am greater than you." 

Althalus stopped and looked around at the early morning light, "Have you ever light a candle?" He asked,

"What have candles got to do with this?"

"However great the dark may seem, however filled with fears and monsters, the light always chases it away."

In answer the Overlord commanded the Shadows to attack, but as soon as they touched by the sunlight, they crumbled to nothing. Rage sparkled in his eyes as he lifted the scepter, power filling every part of his mind.

But to slow, to ruled by his power, Althalus had already thrown the magic blade, spinning like a throwing dagger, it pierced his hart. With a clatter the scepter fell, the power holding the shadows failed and they dashed away.

Althalus gathered up his sword and sent the scepter far away, where no hand could touch it. Time would be needed, shadows still filtered through the air, but now at least, a candle had been light and hope was there to chase the dark away. 



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Part 5 Okay it seems some are growing weary and dropping out, but for the ones who are hanging in this will be the next to the last write. So prepare yourself for an ending to come soon. But, on this one let's see how much emotion you can put into your write! I want to feel myself getting emotional......you get to pick which emotion I feel though. I will even give you an extra 50 words- maximum 350 this time. Still juicing, but will be a little more generous thus a little more sparing/wow me!
Written by AWriter

Beneath the Vaulted Eaves Part Five - Dashing Through the Snow

The Shadows where after him. Althalus had hoped that if he entered the Forbidden Forest that they would leave him be. After all he had seen them turn away before.

Unfortunately they wanted him more than they feared the forest. Althalus stumbled in yet another snow drift, his legs numb with tiredness and cold. He lay in the ground trying to find the will to get up. He didn't know how long he had been running, long enough that all he felt was tired, the fear having been replaced by the need to just keep moving.

The silence was all about him now and a small bit of will to live, to fight another day against the Overlord and his Shadows returned. With effort he recalled the dark empty houses of his small village, he at least had to get up for them, to remain the last one standing, proof that not every soul that defied the Overlord had died. 

With a muttered word he get up out of the snow drift, and stumbled on. He did not see the steep slope in front of him. He feet vanished from under him and he rolled down the hill, a flash of white sky and dark bare branched the last thing he saw. 

Althalus opened his eyes and saw roots, there was also some snow and everything was cold, there were also no shadows and he was still alive. While the last two facts where oddities, he was not one to look to closely at a gifted horse.  

Whispers ruffled around him, it took him a moment to focus on what they were saying. As the words became clear, his eyes widened, the very trees where speaking, they were telling him of a mistake made, of power corrupting absolutely, of hope lost. They also spoke of ways hidden and lost, to bring light again to the land. Althalus sat up, he looked about at the dim light of midday and set his stubborn ways to a new course of action; to bring light to just one place in the land. 

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Part 5 Okay it seems some are growing weary and dropping out, but for the ones who are hanging in this will be the next to the last write. So prepare yourself for an ending to come soon. But, on this one let's see how much emotion you can put into your write! I want to feel myself getting emotional......you get to pick which emotion I feel though. I will even give you an extra 50 words- maximum 350 this time. Still juicing, but will be a little more generous thus a little more sparing/wow me!
Written by AWriter
Beneath the Vaulted Eaves Part Five - Dashing Through the Snow
The Shadows where after him. Althalus had hoped that if he entered the Forbidden Forest that they would leave him be. After all he had seen them turn away before.

Unfortunately they wanted him more than they feared the forest. Althalus stumbled in yet another snow drift, his legs numb with tiredness and cold. He lay in the ground trying to find the will to get up. He didn't know how long he had been running, long enough that all he felt was tired, the fear having been replaced by the need to just keep moving.

The silence was all about him now and a small bit of will to live, to fight another day against the Overlord and his Shadows returned. With effort he recalled the dark empty houses of his small village, he at least had to get up for them, to remain the last one standing, proof that not every soul that defied the Overlord had died. 

With a muttered word he get up out of the snow drift, and stumbled on. He did not see the steep slope in front of him. He feet vanished from under him and he rolled down the hill, a flash of white sky and dark bare branched the last thing he saw. 

Althalus opened his eyes and saw roots, there was also some snow and everything was cold, there were also no shadows and he was still alive. While the last two facts where oddities, he was not one to look to closely at a gifted horse.  

Whispers ruffled around him, it took him a moment to focus on what they were saying. As the words became clear, his eyes widened, the very trees where speaking, they were telling him of a mistake made, of power corrupting absolutely, of hope lost. They also spoke of ways hidden and lost, to bring light again to the land. Althalus sat up, he looked about at the dim light of midday and set his stubborn ways to a new course of action; to bring light to just one place in the land. 
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