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For those who believe transferring words from mind to paper is one of the great pleasures of life. Or, for people who like to write.
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Opposites
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Two opposites sat on a park bench The author deleted eating their curds and whey as soon as it was typed, and replaced it with and one wanted the other to leave. The critic noted "That's really not very specific, is it? Two 'opposites'? Come on, you're going to have to be more specific than that." The author considered. Then the author wrote: The Republican sat down next to the Democrat on the park bench and nodded, satisfied. The critic clucked his tongue. "Welll...it's not exactly original, is it? And how different are they, really? Honestly, you couldn't have had a Peace and Freedomer in there instead? And what's this with focussing on US politics? Isn't that going to alienate most of your readers, who don't live in the US and wouldn't be able to tell why they're supposed to be 'opposites'?" The author sighed and the two idealogues slunk away. The author considered, and finally wrote: A man and a woman sat on a park bench and looked at the critic. "Yeeeess...that is better," the critic admitted, "It could lead to a nice contrast, at that. But when it comes down to it, they're not really opposites, are they?" The author's eyebrows rose. "I mean, yeah, they're two different genders and all. But you haven't gone into any detail about who they are. Their upbringings could be very similar, and their life situations. For all we know, it could be Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks sitting there, and no one's suggesting that their life experiences have been all that different. Sure, if you want to have a couple of well-to-do white urbanites sitting there, kvetching on and on about how different they are, and boo-hoo, how they're never gonna understand each other, go right ahead. But we've seen it a million times - why not choose something a little more extreme?" The would-be lovers fled as the author's teeth ground together, but, after some further consideration, the author wrote: The sleek, tall African warlord stepped up onto the bench and surveyed the surrounding park before slinging his assault rifle and plopping down next to the plump, elderly Ukrainian nurse who was fussing over the crippled Asian baby in the isolette next to her. Their eyes locked and widened in surprise. "You!" they cried in their respective languages. The author, arms crossed, looked a challenge at the critic. The critic merely snorted. "Feh...they're both human, right?" The nurse returned her charge to the hospital, and the warlord returned on a subsonic jet to his homeland with a story his tribesmen would never believe. The author hammered at the keyboard, writing: George W. Bush and Buzz Lightyear arrived at the bench simultaneously "Now you're just being silly," the critic complained, "Besides, both of these guys mangle English and spout nonsense. Opposites? Ha!" "To infinity and beyond!" Buzz Lightyear declaimed, blasting off into the air. "My point exactly!" the critic smirked as Dubya was hustled back into the bulletproof sedan by an apologetic secret service agent. The author fumed. Whack. Whack. Whack. Salt sat next to pepper on the bench The critic threw hands into the air in disgust. "THEY'RE BOTH SEASONINGS!" The shakers exploded and the wind carried the granules to far-off lands. Steam rose from the author's ears. BAM. BAM. BAM. Aphrodite and Hades sat on a bench, the air brittle with the tension between them "Oh, come ON! They're both from the Greek pantheon!" Aphrodite was borne off by a husky chorus of scantily-clad bodybuilders. Hades sniffed in disdain, snapped his fingers and the bench slurped down into the depths of the earth. The author's fingers, stiff with resentment, had to try three times before successfully typing: Flames licked at the block of ice as the corner of the frozen bench caught fire The critic fixed the author with a pitying stare. "Really? Fire and ice? Are you serious? Those are just different temperature states of matter. They're not necessarily a different material, and certainly not opposites at all." The author wept, head in hands. After a while, the author, brow beaded with sweat, tentatively typed out: Good sat primly next to Evil on a parkbench and looked sideways at the critic, barely suppressing a whimper. The critic sighed heavily. "Look," the critic began, "I don't mean to be harsh, but is that really the best you can do? Good vs. Evil? Those are both rather subjective, aren't they? As such, they're both products of a given belief system. The best you could say is that Good is doing what you're supposed to do in a given system, and Evil is not doing good. So they're not opposites - one is just the absence of the other!" The author brightened and nodded. Something sat on a bench next to Nothing...and was satisfied. |
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haha but that's just me!
very good 5/5
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