Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to inform you of the presence of a new evil threatening our society: cell phones. While I would like to say that they are only here temporarily, or that their reach is not widespread, it is apparent that that is not true. They are here, and here to stay.
We all remember the days before them. When private time was actually private time, away from beeping nuisances! How many of you have been talking to a loved one, a grandchild, perhaps, only to be interrupted by an irritating noise, and the promise that they ‘would be back in a minute?’
Our time is no longer worth anything. The younger generations are being corrupted and forced to work all the time, unable to be separated from their duties for the slightest minute. Cell phones are ruining their lives, and we are the only ones who might possibly notice, because we understand the way life was before all the madness.
Do you see what they are doing to our society? They are turning our diligent, beautiful world into a mockery of what it once was. This world is now a joyless wasteland, the younger generations cannot, or rather, will not, ‘stop to smell the roses,’ so to speak. One simple little thing has single handedly led to the destruction of the world as we knew it. The transformation is not yet complete, and so we must fight while we have the chance.
Why do they willingly follow such evil devices? Because they feel they must, and it is our duty to tell them that they can separate themselves, that they can be free. Now, they might not see it that way, but we are the elders, and we know far more than they do, and it is our right, our duty, to liberate them. I am sure some of you have fought in wars, willing to give your lives for our country sake: we must fight again, against a plague of technology that threatens to swallow us up.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to tell you that I have a way to do this: to stop the spread of cell phones. All I need is your help, and our world will soon be free.
The first step of my plan is to spread the word. Tell all those you know, here and elsewhere, friends, family, any and everyone, about this evil. Freeing minds is the first step to freeing bodies, and so we must let everyone know what is happening, and what must soon happen.
The second step is far more active. It requires enforcing rules while in your presence. Insist that anyone with a cell phone must turn it off while talking to you. Both you and your loved ones are aware that it is extremely rude to answer a phone while talking to someone else, and make sure that it is known that you will not tolerate rudeness.
The third, and final, step is to take political action. We are still an important demographic to the people up in Washington. Write our local and national politicians and insist on anti-cell phone laws. They must understand what is happening to the world, that it must be stopped.
Remember, be diligent. Our generation has prided itself on its motivation, and its pride in its country. Remember that, and we will succeed!
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
WA-8 draft 1
Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to announce the presence of a new evil threatening our society: cell phones. While I would like to say that they are only here temporarily, or that their reach is not widespread, it is apparent that that is not true. They are here, and here to stay.
We all remember the days before them. When private time was actually private time, away from beeping, singing nuisances! How many of you have been talking to a loved one, a grandchild, perhaps, only to be interrupted by an irritating noise, and the promise that they ‘would be back in a minute?’
Our time is no longer worth anything. The younger generations are being corrupted and forced to work all the time, unable to be separated from their duties for the slightest minute. Cell phones are ruining their lives, and we are the only ones who might possibly notice, because we understand the way life was before all the madness.
Do you see what they are doing to our society? They are turning our diligent, beautiful world into a mockery of what it once was. This world is now a joyless wasteland, the younger generations cannot, will not, ‘stop to smell the roses,’ so to speak. One, simple little thing has single handedly led to the destruction of the world as we know it. The transformation is not yet complete, and so we must fight while we have the chance.
Why do they willingly follow such evil devices? Because they feel they must, and it is our duty to tell them that they CAN separate themselves, they can be free. Now, they might not see it that way, but we are the elders, and we know far more than they do, and it is our right, our duty, to liberate them. I am sure some of you fought in wars, willing to give your lives for our country: we must fight again, against a plague of technology that threatens to swallow us up.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to tell you that I have a way to do this: to stop the coming evil. All I need is your help, and our world will soon be free.
The first step of my plan is to spread the word. Tell all those you know, here and elsewhere, friends, family, any and everyone, about this evil. Freeing minds is the first step to freeing bodies, and so we must let everyone know what must happen.
The second step is far more active. It requires enforcing rules while in your presence. Insist that anyone with a cell phone must turn it off while talking to you. Both you and your loved ones know that it is extremely rude to answer a phone while talking to someone else, and make sure that it is known that you will not tolerate rudeness.
The third, and final, step is to take political action. We are still an important demographic to the people up in Washington. Write our local politicians and insist on anti cell phone laws. They must understand what is happening to the world, and that it must be stopped.
Remember, be diligent. Our generation prided itself on its motivation, and its pride in its country. Remember that, and we will be successful!
We all remember the days before them. When private time was actually private time, away from beeping, singing nuisances! How many of you have been talking to a loved one, a grandchild, perhaps, only to be interrupted by an irritating noise, and the promise that they ‘would be back in a minute?’
Our time is no longer worth anything. The younger generations are being corrupted and forced to work all the time, unable to be separated from their duties for the slightest minute. Cell phones are ruining their lives, and we are the only ones who might possibly notice, because we understand the way life was before all the madness.
Do you see what they are doing to our society? They are turning our diligent, beautiful world into a mockery of what it once was. This world is now a joyless wasteland, the younger generations cannot, will not, ‘stop to smell the roses,’ so to speak. One, simple little thing has single handedly led to the destruction of the world as we know it. The transformation is not yet complete, and so we must fight while we have the chance.
Why do they willingly follow such evil devices? Because they feel they must, and it is our duty to tell them that they CAN separate themselves, they can be free. Now, they might not see it that way, but we are the elders, and we know far more than they do, and it is our right, our duty, to liberate them. I am sure some of you fought in wars, willing to give your lives for our country: we must fight again, against a plague of technology that threatens to swallow us up.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to tell you that I have a way to do this: to stop the coming evil. All I need is your help, and our world will soon be free.
The first step of my plan is to spread the word. Tell all those you know, here and elsewhere, friends, family, any and everyone, about this evil. Freeing minds is the first step to freeing bodies, and so we must let everyone know what must happen.
The second step is far more active. It requires enforcing rules while in your presence. Insist that anyone with a cell phone must turn it off while talking to you. Both you and your loved ones know that it is extremely rude to answer a phone while talking to someone else, and make sure that it is known that you will not tolerate rudeness.
The third, and final, step is to take political action. We are still an important demographic to the people up in Washington. Write our local politicians and insist on anti cell phone laws. They must understand what is happening to the world, and that it must be stopped.
Remember, be diligent. Our generation prided itself on its motivation, and its pride in its country. Remember that, and we will be successful!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
WA-6 Draft 2
The BOY is alone onstage. He is tired and depressed, though he has managed to pull himself together, on the outside at least. He holds the envelope (with photograph and letter inside) and uses it to gesture while he talks. His mood changes rapidly, from tired, to mocking to angry and then to simple sadness.
She was so beautiful. That’s the way I remember her. The look in her eyes when she saw something she loved, that she had to buy. That funny smile she got whenever Dad brought her flowers. She was my world, my mother.
She lives in California, even though I’m so far away: she is the one who left me, after all. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, is it? I’m supposed to go off to college, or a job, or whatever, and she’s supposed to be the smiling one, hiding her goodbye tears. But I was the other way around. She needed time, she said, space. She couldn’t deal with the pressure. I can maybe understand that, you know? I’m sure it would get annoying with a little kid hanging around you all the time, needing everything from you and you alone.
[He adopts a mocking tone of voice.]
She took me and Dad to the beach, a treat, she said. She had gotten a raise, she said. Yeah, in another damn state, three thousand miles away. We went to the beach, it was a lot of fun, you know, doing what kids do, playing in the sand, making silly faces at the jellyfish. Dad took a picture of us, me and her, on the beach. We look so happy, so relaxed and happy. That night, she told us. She didn’t just pack her bag and leave one day. She told us together, that she needed to leave. Need, she said, not want. She had thought about this. That she couldn’t stay and be a suburban housewife, she wasn’t old enough, she wanted the rest of her life back.
[Angry]
What do you do then? Cry and beg her not to go? Yeah, I did that. Tell her she’s wrong and mean and you never want to see her again? Check. Of course, it didn’t do any good. She had made up her mind, and when that happened, she didn’t change. She’d follow her own advice to the end of the earth, the stubborn woman. So, she kissed me on my head, said to be a good boy, for mommy, then she was gone.
[Calming slightly, though not completely, and the anger soon returns]
She left traces, of course, how could she not? Perfume in the kitchen, and we always had matching towels in the bathroom. Dad wanted it to be perfect for when she got back. She never did.
I got a letter today. From her. Didn’t expect that, I mean, I figured it had been so long. It was a nice letter, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t like I miss you and I’m coming back, but then, she’d been gone for a while so she had a life, out there, in LA. That’s where she was. LA. Los frikkin Angeles. Whatever.
I haven’t opened the letter yet. I have to let things settle in my mind for a bit, I guess. I will, I just don’t want to hear what I know she’s gonna say. How she’s got a nice new husband and a nice new son who do everything right and maybe I want to visit some time?
That’s not what she said. I suppose that makes me happy-well, not as sad. So she starts off saying how she wants to be a ‘great actress,’ and she’s working in theater now, and she’s having the time of her life. -Am I supposed to congratulate her!?- She says she misses me, but she hopes I understand what she had to do. -Yeah, right.- There’s not much else in the letter, it’s mostly her telling me that she’s not off limits; she wants to maybe come visit sometime. -I know she never will though.- She doesn’t want me to come to LA, too busy, she says, for a little boy. Then that was it, the end, kaput. It’s over. No more letter, no more mother. Except in the envelope, is one more thing. The picture, from that day, at the beach. She took the camera with her when she left, we didn’t have time to take the film out. We’re so happy, both grinning. But she knew what was coming, then, didn’t she? Yeah, she did. But she took us to the beach. Thanks, Mom.
She was so beautiful. That’s the way I remember her. The look in her eyes when she saw something she loved, that she had to buy. That funny smile she got whenever Dad brought her flowers. She was my world, my mother.
She lives in California, even though I’m so far away: she is the one who left me, after all. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, is it? I’m supposed to go off to college, or a job, or whatever, and she’s supposed to be the smiling one, hiding her goodbye tears. But I was the other way around. She needed time, she said, space. She couldn’t deal with the pressure. I can maybe understand that, you know? I’m sure it would get annoying with a little kid hanging around you all the time, needing everything from you and you alone.
[He adopts a mocking tone of voice.]
She took me and Dad to the beach, a treat, she said. She had gotten a raise, she said. Yeah, in another damn state, three thousand miles away. We went to the beach, it was a lot of fun, you know, doing what kids do, playing in the sand, making silly faces at the jellyfish. Dad took a picture of us, me and her, on the beach. We look so happy, so relaxed and happy. That night, she told us. She didn’t just pack her bag and leave one day. She told us together, that she needed to leave. Need, she said, not want. She had thought about this. That she couldn’t stay and be a suburban housewife, she wasn’t old enough, she wanted the rest of her life back.
[Angry]
What do you do then? Cry and beg her not to go? Yeah, I did that. Tell her she’s wrong and mean and you never want to see her again? Check. Of course, it didn’t do any good. She had made up her mind, and when that happened, she didn’t change. She’d follow her own advice to the end of the earth, the stubborn woman. So, she kissed me on my head, said to be a good boy, for mommy, then she was gone.
[Calming slightly, though not completely, and the anger soon returns]
She left traces, of course, how could she not? Perfume in the kitchen, and we always had matching towels in the bathroom. Dad wanted it to be perfect for when she got back. She never did.
I got a letter today. From her. Didn’t expect that, I mean, I figured it had been so long. It was a nice letter, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t like I miss you and I’m coming back, but then, she’d been gone for a while so she had a life, out there, in LA. That’s where she was. LA. Los frikkin Angeles. Whatever.
I haven’t opened the letter yet. I have to let things settle in my mind for a bit, I guess. I will, I just don’t want to hear what I know she’s gonna say. How she’s got a nice new husband and a nice new son who do everything right and maybe I want to visit some time?
That’s not what she said. I suppose that makes me happy-well, not as sad. So she starts off saying how she wants to be a ‘great actress,’ and she’s working in theater now, and she’s having the time of her life. -Am I supposed to congratulate her!?- She says she misses me, but she hopes I understand what she had to do. -Yeah, right.- There’s not much else in the letter, it’s mostly her telling me that she’s not off limits; she wants to maybe come visit sometime. -I know she never will though.- She doesn’t want me to come to LA, too busy, she says, for a little boy. Then that was it, the end, kaput. It’s over. No more letter, no more mother. Except in the envelope, is one more thing. The picture, from that day, at the beach. She took the camera with her when she left, we didn’t have time to take the film out. We’re so happy, both grinning. But she knew what was coming, then, didn’t she? Yeah, she did. But she took us to the beach. Thanks, Mom.
Monday, March 23, 2009
WA-6 Draft 1
She was so beautiful. That’s the way I remember her. The look in her eyes when she saw something she loved, that she had to buy. That funny smile she got whenever Dad brought her flowers. She was my world, my mother.
She lives in California, still, even though I’m so far away. Which is okay, I suppose: she is the one who left me, after all. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, is it? I’m supposed to go off to college, or a job, or whatever, and she’s supposed to be the smiling one, hiding her goodbye tears. But I was the other way around. She needed time, she said, space. She couldn’t deal with the pressure. I can understand that, you know? I’m sure it would get annoying with a little kid hanging around you all the time, needing everything from you and you alone.
She took me and Dad to the beach, a treat, she said. She had gotten a raise, she said. Yeah, in another damn state, three thousand miles away. We went to the beach, it was a lot of fun, you know, doing what kids do, playing in the sand, making silly faces at the jellyfish. Dad took a picture of us, me and her, on the beach. We look so happy, so relaxed and happy. That night, she told us. It wasn’t all of a sudden, you know? She didn’t just pack her bag and leave one day. She told us together, that she needed to leave. Need, she said, not want. She had thought about this. That she couldn’t stay and be a suburban housewife, she wasn’t old enough, she wanted the rest of her life back.
What do you do then? Cry and beg her not to go? Yeah, I did that. Tell her she’s wrong and mean and you never want to see her again? Check. Of course, it didn’t do any good. She had made up her mind, and when that happened, she didn’t change. She’d follow her own advice to the end of the earth, the stubborn woman she was. So, she kissed me on my head, said to be a good boy, for mommy, then she was gone.
She left traces, of course, how could she not? Perfume in the kitchen, and we always had matching towels in the bathroom. Dad wanted it to be perfect for when she got back. She never did.
I got a letter today. From her. Didn’t expect that, I mean, I figured it had been so long. It was a nice letter, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t like I miss you and I’m coming back, but then, she’d been gone for a while so she had a life, out there, in LA. That’s where she was. LA. Los frikkin Angeles. Whatever.
I haven’t opened the letter yet. I have to let things settle in my mind for a bit, I guess. I will, I just don’t want to hear what I know she’s gonna say. How she’s got a nice new husband and a nice new son who do everything right and maybe I want to visit sometime?
That’s not what she said. I suppose that makes me happy. Well, not as sad. So she starts off saying how she wants to be a great actress, and she’s working in theater now, and she’s having the time of her life. (Am I supposed to congratulate her?) She says she misses me, but she hopes I understand what she had to do. There’s not much else in the letter, it’s mostly her telling me that she’s not off limits, she wants to maybe come visit sometime. She doesn’t want me to come to LA, too busy, she says, for a little boy. Then that was it, the end, kaput. It’s over. No more letter. Except in the envelope, is one more thing. The picture, from that day, at the beach. She took the camera with her when she left, we didn’t have time to take the film out. We’re so happy, both grinning. But she knew what was coming, then, didn’t she? Yeah, she did. But she still took us to the beach. Thanks, Mom.
She lives in California, still, even though I’m so far away. Which is okay, I suppose: she is the one who left me, after all. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, is it? I’m supposed to go off to college, or a job, or whatever, and she’s supposed to be the smiling one, hiding her goodbye tears. But I was the other way around. She needed time, she said, space. She couldn’t deal with the pressure. I can understand that, you know? I’m sure it would get annoying with a little kid hanging around you all the time, needing everything from you and you alone.
She took me and Dad to the beach, a treat, she said. She had gotten a raise, she said. Yeah, in another damn state, three thousand miles away. We went to the beach, it was a lot of fun, you know, doing what kids do, playing in the sand, making silly faces at the jellyfish. Dad took a picture of us, me and her, on the beach. We look so happy, so relaxed and happy. That night, she told us. It wasn’t all of a sudden, you know? She didn’t just pack her bag and leave one day. She told us together, that she needed to leave. Need, she said, not want. She had thought about this. That she couldn’t stay and be a suburban housewife, she wasn’t old enough, she wanted the rest of her life back.
What do you do then? Cry and beg her not to go? Yeah, I did that. Tell her she’s wrong and mean and you never want to see her again? Check. Of course, it didn’t do any good. She had made up her mind, and when that happened, she didn’t change. She’d follow her own advice to the end of the earth, the stubborn woman she was. So, she kissed me on my head, said to be a good boy, for mommy, then she was gone.
She left traces, of course, how could she not? Perfume in the kitchen, and we always had matching towels in the bathroom. Dad wanted it to be perfect for when she got back. She never did.
I got a letter today. From her. Didn’t expect that, I mean, I figured it had been so long. It was a nice letter, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t like I miss you and I’m coming back, but then, she’d been gone for a while so she had a life, out there, in LA. That’s where she was. LA. Los frikkin Angeles. Whatever.
I haven’t opened the letter yet. I have to let things settle in my mind for a bit, I guess. I will, I just don’t want to hear what I know she’s gonna say. How she’s got a nice new husband and a nice new son who do everything right and maybe I want to visit sometime?
That’s not what she said. I suppose that makes me happy. Well, not as sad. So she starts off saying how she wants to be a great actress, and she’s working in theater now, and she’s having the time of her life. (Am I supposed to congratulate her?) She says she misses me, but she hopes I understand what she had to do. There’s not much else in the letter, it’s mostly her telling me that she’s not off limits, she wants to maybe come visit sometime. She doesn’t want me to come to LA, too busy, she says, for a little boy. Then that was it, the end, kaput. It’s over. No more letter. Except in the envelope, is one more thing. The picture, from that day, at the beach. She took the camera with her when she left, we didn’t have time to take the film out. We’re so happy, both grinning. But she knew what was coming, then, didn’t she? Yeah, she did. But she still took us to the beach. Thanks, Mom.
Monday, March 2, 2009
WA-5 Final draft
Part 1:
When my father announced that he was going to have a party in order for me to find myself a bride, I was mortified. My father may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but really, a festival full of opportunities for me to make a fool of myself? I suppose this is the time to let you know that while I may have been born a prince, I am not the typical blue-blooded, horse-and-hounds, flattering idiot most princes are. No, I’m just a coward. So, while I may be occasionally charming, generally I try and avoid any situation where there is a possibility of disgracing myself along with the entire family name.
In retrospect, I suppose nothing went completely wrong. I found a nice, seemingly normal girl, and stuck to her for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, she managed to lose her shoe, which my father wouldn’t let me forget. Supposedly, this meant that she wanted to marry me?! I mean, geez, she was only like fifteen. But my father insisted, so I set out to find this girl, to marry her. I was so desperate to be done with the whole deal, I didn’t even care that the wrong girl was chosen- twice. Why had the girl worn a golden slipper anyway- it couldn’t be at all practical, and it looked downright uncomfortable.
Despite it being the day of our marriage, I still didn’t know the girl’s actual name: she said Aschenputtel, which couldn‘t be right. Anyway, I’m as nervous as hell, my father is still breathing down my neck, and suddenly I’m walking down the aisle. The girl takes considerable time to get up onto the dais, but she finally manages, however, she looks frankly murderous. I realize, with some apprehension, that I barely know the girl, I mean, I am assuming that she is pretty much normal, but what if she’s a nervous wreck, or just plain weird? Now is not the time to think about that, I told myself, and you better just get up there, say ‘I do’ and make you family proud.
Part 2:
Heaving my tulle monster up to where the Prince was standing was not easy. Let’s just say that between my father and I it happened, and leave it at that. The priest began the ceremony, and I looked at my Prince, seeking reassurance. Instead, I found myself looking at the lines around his eyes. Lines around his eyes- how old is he?? I’m fifteen, I can’t actually be marrying anyone who has lines around his eyes! Oh, God, I was truly panicking. What did I actually know about this Prince? I had only met him four days ago at the festival, what if he was some crazy princess killer? I looked back at the Prince, who now seemed fairly ominous, with a Joker-like expression on his face. Suddenly, everyone was staring at me.
-You need to say ‘I do’, the Prince said, with a dangerous edge to his voice.
-Well, I replied, I don’t. The crowd’s shocked expression was enough to throw me over the edge.
-No, I don’t. I don’t want to marry this Prince. I don’t even know him. For all I know he’s gonna kill me as soon as I get through the palace doors! I mean, he bloody well tried to marry both my stepsisters first cause they chopped off bits of their feet, I mean hello! This guy is an idiot!
However, the crowd was still trying to process the ‘bloody’ I had accidentally thrown in there. If anything, this set me off even more.
-Yes, I can swear. Bloody bloody bloody bloody!! You morons just bloody well almost saw me get married to a psychopath, and did nothing about it! I don’t know what to do with you idiots! AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!
Ripping off the bottom half off of the tulle monstrosity, I ran to the lovely ‘just married’ carriage waiting at the end of the aisle. I threw the footman off, took the reins in my hand, cracked the whip, and galloped off into the sunset.
-Thank God you got out of that one, mate, the priest said sadly, patting the Prince on the shoulder.
When my father announced that he was going to have a party in order for me to find myself a bride, I was mortified. My father may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but really, a festival full of opportunities for me to make a fool of myself? I suppose this is the time to let you know that while I may have been born a prince, I am not the typical blue-blooded, horse-and-hounds, flattering idiot most princes are. No, I’m just a coward. So, while I may be occasionally charming, generally I try and avoid any situation where there is a possibility of disgracing myself along with the entire family name.
In retrospect, I suppose nothing went completely wrong. I found a nice, seemingly normal girl, and stuck to her for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, she managed to lose her shoe, which my father wouldn’t let me forget. Supposedly, this meant that she wanted to marry me?! I mean, geez, she was only like fifteen. But my father insisted, so I set out to find this girl, to marry her. I was so desperate to be done with the whole deal, I didn’t even care that the wrong girl was chosen- twice. Why had the girl worn a golden slipper anyway- it couldn’t be at all practical, and it looked downright uncomfortable.
Despite it being the day of our marriage, I still didn’t know the girl’s actual name: she said Aschenputtel, which couldn‘t be right. Anyway, I’m as nervous as hell, my father is still breathing down my neck, and suddenly I’m walking down the aisle. The girl takes considerable time to get up onto the dais, but she finally manages, however, she looks frankly murderous. I realize, with some apprehension, that I barely know the girl, I mean, I am assuming that she is pretty much normal, but what if she’s a nervous wreck, or just plain weird? Now is not the time to think about that, I told myself, and you better just get up there, say ‘I do’ and make you family proud.
Part 2:
Heaving my tulle monster up to where the Prince was standing was not easy. Let’s just say that between my father and I it happened, and leave it at that. The priest began the ceremony, and I looked at my Prince, seeking reassurance. Instead, I found myself looking at the lines around his eyes. Lines around his eyes- how old is he?? I’m fifteen, I can’t actually be marrying anyone who has lines around his eyes! Oh, God, I was truly panicking. What did I actually know about this Prince? I had only met him four days ago at the festival, what if he was some crazy princess killer? I looked back at the Prince, who now seemed fairly ominous, with a Joker-like expression on his face. Suddenly, everyone was staring at me.
-You need to say ‘I do’, the Prince said, with a dangerous edge to his voice.
-Well, I replied, I don’t. The crowd’s shocked expression was enough to throw me over the edge.
-No, I don’t. I don’t want to marry this Prince. I don’t even know him. For all I know he’s gonna kill me as soon as I get through the palace doors! I mean, he bloody well tried to marry both my stepsisters first cause they chopped off bits of their feet, I mean hello! This guy is an idiot!
However, the crowd was still trying to process the ‘bloody’ I had accidentally thrown in there. If anything, this set me off even more.
-Yes, I can swear. Bloody bloody bloody bloody!! You morons just bloody well almost saw me get married to a psychopath, and did nothing about it! I don’t know what to do with you idiots! AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!
Ripping off the bottom half off of the tulle monstrosity, I ran to the lovely ‘just married’ carriage waiting at the end of the aisle. I threw the footman off, took the reins in my hand, cracked the whip, and galloped off into the sunset.
-Thank God you got out of that one, mate, the priest said sadly, patting the Prince on the shoulder.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
WA-5 draft 2
When my father announced that he was going to have a party in order for me to find myself a bride, I was mortified. My father may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but really, a festival full of opportunities for me to make a fool of myself? Surely that was going a bit far. I suppose this is the time to let you know that while I may have been born a prince, I am not the typical blue-blooded, horse-and-hounds, flattering idiot most princes are. No, I’m just a coward. So, while I may be occasionally charming, generally I try and avoid any situation where there is a possibility of disgracing myself along with the entire family name, which is why this festival was a spectacularly bad idea.
In retrospect, I suppose it didn’t go too badly, nothing went completely wrong. I found a nice, seemingly normal girl, and stuck to her for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, she managed to lose her shoe, which my father wouldn’t let me forget. Supposedly, this meant that she wanted to marry me?! I mean, geez, she was only like fifteen, I didn’t think that she was serious about it, how could she be? So I set out to find this girl, so I could marry her- weird as that may be. I was so desperate to be done with the whole deal, I didn’t even care that the wrong girl was chosen- twice. These were possibly the most embarrassing moments of my entire life, traipsing through the countryside with a golden slipper. Why had she worn one- it couldn’t be at all practical, and it looked downright uncomfortable. However, I did it anyway, so I could go home and not be ridiculed by my father for the rest of my single life. Pathetic, I know.
The day of my wedding to the mystery girl was here. Despite our upcoming marriage, I still didn’t know her actual name: all I could get out of her was Aschenputtel, which couldn’t really be her name ( I hope). Anyway, I’m as nervous as hell, my father is still breathing down my neck, and suddenly I’m walking down the aisle. The girl takes considerable time to get up onto the dais, but she finaly manages, however, she looks frankly murderous. I realize, with some apprehension, that I barely know the girl, I mean, I am assuming that she is pretty much normal, but what if she’s a nervous wreck, or just plain weird? Now is not the time to think about that, I told myself, and you better just get up there, say ‘I do’ and make you family proud.
So I did, but the moment my blushing bride was supposed to make her vow, she, well, she didn’t. Instead, she went off like a shot, talking about how I was some kind of lunatic. I was the lunatic? She was the one screaming about ‘homicidal princess killers!’ At that moment, I froze, what do I do now? My fiancée is off her rocker, and what am I supposed to do about it? Typically of me, I do nothing but stand there and watch her storm off with my carriage. Still in shock, I felt the priest pat my shoulder. ‘Thank God you got out of that one, mate.”
In retrospect, I suppose it didn’t go too badly, nothing went completely wrong. I found a nice, seemingly normal girl, and stuck to her for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, she managed to lose her shoe, which my father wouldn’t let me forget. Supposedly, this meant that she wanted to marry me?! I mean, geez, she was only like fifteen, I didn’t think that she was serious about it, how could she be? So I set out to find this girl, so I could marry her- weird as that may be. I was so desperate to be done with the whole deal, I didn’t even care that the wrong girl was chosen- twice. These were possibly the most embarrassing moments of my entire life, traipsing through the countryside with a golden slipper. Why had she worn one- it couldn’t be at all practical, and it looked downright uncomfortable. However, I did it anyway, so I could go home and not be ridiculed by my father for the rest of my single life. Pathetic, I know.
The day of my wedding to the mystery girl was here. Despite our upcoming marriage, I still didn’t know her actual name: all I could get out of her was Aschenputtel, which couldn’t really be her name ( I hope). Anyway, I’m as nervous as hell, my father is still breathing down my neck, and suddenly I’m walking down the aisle. The girl takes considerable time to get up onto the dais, but she finaly manages, however, she looks frankly murderous. I realize, with some apprehension, that I barely know the girl, I mean, I am assuming that she is pretty much normal, but what if she’s a nervous wreck, or just plain weird? Now is not the time to think about that, I told myself, and you better just get up there, say ‘I do’ and make you family proud.
So I did, but the moment my blushing bride was supposed to make her vow, she, well, she didn’t. Instead, she went off like a shot, talking about how I was some kind of lunatic. I was the lunatic? She was the one screaming about ‘homicidal princess killers!’ At that moment, I froze, what do I do now? My fiancée is off her rocker, and what am I supposed to do about it? Typically of me, I do nothing but stand there and watch her storm off with my carriage. Still in shock, I felt the priest pat my shoulder. ‘Thank God you got out of that one, mate.”
Monday, February 16, 2009
WA-5 draft 1
By everyone’s reckoning, it was a beautiful day. The birds were singing and the squirrels were frolicking throughout the sunny glade, creating an atmosphere of peaceful joy. I thought again of the Prince I was to be marrying soon. Keeping a mantra of palace, palace, palace, going in my head, I tried to imagine all the sumptuous delights I would enjoy without my stepsisters to ruin them. Thinking of stepsisters, I realized that the turtledoves that I had assumed were my mother’s spirit were on my shoulders. I wasn’t so sure about the spirit thing anymore, I couldn’t imagine my mother pecking anyone’s eyes out, even if they were quite revolting. By the time I had calmed myself, we were walking down the aisle.
Heaving my tulle monster up to the dais where the Prince was standing was not easy. Let’s just say that between my father and I it happened, and leave it at that. I gave a nod to the priest who seemed to share my feelings of anxiety. But, he managed to begin the ceremony and lulled by his voice I started to relax. I looked at my Prince, seeking reassurance. Instead, I found myself looking at the lines around his eyes; wait- how old is he?? I’m fifteen, I can’t actually be marrying anyone who has lines around his eyes! And what did I actually know about the Prince? I had only met him four days ago at the festival, what if he was some crazy princess killer? I looked back at the Prince, who now seemed fairly ominous. The two white turtledoves were getting heavier and heavier on my shoulders, and they looked at me with their beady black eyes, and I just saw the other girls’ mutilated faces staring back at me. Suddenly, everyone was looking at me.
-You need to say ‘I do’, the Prince said, with a dangerous edge to his voice.
-Well, I replied, I don’t. The crowd’s shocked expression didn‘t help, and the birds were frankly malicious.
-I don’t. I don’t want to marry this Prince. I don’t even know him. For all I know he’s gonna kill me as soon as I get through the palace doors! I mean, he bloody well tried to marry both my stepsisters first cause they chopped off bits of their feet, I mean hello! This guy is an idiot!
However, the crowd was still trying to process the ‘bloody’ I had accidentally thrown in there. If anything, this set me off even more.
-Yes, I can swear. Bloody bloody bloody!! You morons just bloody well almost saw me get married to a psychopath, and did nothing about it! What should I do with you idiots?! AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!
Ripping off the bottom half off of the tulle monstrosity, I ran to the lovely ‘just married’ carriage waiting at the end of the aisle. I threw the footman off, took the reins in my hand, cracked the whip, and galloped off into the sunset.
-Thank God you got out of that one, mate, the priest said sadly, patting the Prince on the shoulder.
Heaving my tulle monster up to the dais where the Prince was standing was not easy. Let’s just say that between my father and I it happened, and leave it at that. I gave a nod to the priest who seemed to share my feelings of anxiety. But, he managed to begin the ceremony and lulled by his voice I started to relax. I looked at my Prince, seeking reassurance. Instead, I found myself looking at the lines around his eyes; wait- how old is he?? I’m fifteen, I can’t actually be marrying anyone who has lines around his eyes! And what did I actually know about the Prince? I had only met him four days ago at the festival, what if he was some crazy princess killer? I looked back at the Prince, who now seemed fairly ominous. The two white turtledoves were getting heavier and heavier on my shoulders, and they looked at me with their beady black eyes, and I just saw the other girls’ mutilated faces staring back at me. Suddenly, everyone was looking at me.
-You need to say ‘I do’, the Prince said, with a dangerous edge to his voice.
-Well, I replied, I don’t. The crowd’s shocked expression didn‘t help, and the birds were frankly malicious.
-I don’t. I don’t want to marry this Prince. I don’t even know him. For all I know he’s gonna kill me as soon as I get through the palace doors! I mean, he bloody well tried to marry both my stepsisters first cause they chopped off bits of their feet, I mean hello! This guy is an idiot!
However, the crowd was still trying to process the ‘bloody’ I had accidentally thrown in there. If anything, this set me off even more.
-Yes, I can swear. Bloody bloody bloody!! You morons just bloody well almost saw me get married to a psychopath, and did nothing about it! What should I do with you idiots?! AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!
Ripping off the bottom half off of the tulle monstrosity, I ran to the lovely ‘just married’ carriage waiting at the end of the aisle. I threw the footman off, took the reins in my hand, cracked the whip, and galloped off into the sunset.
-Thank God you got out of that one, mate, the priest said sadly, patting the Prince on the shoulder.
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