Nineteen-Seventy-Seven
{What is chance, or really a contingency? Is it something originating from one source? Perhaps. However, chance is the overlap between various laws working at the same time. Id est to say, the byproducts of those laws that help shape the course of material flow or time. As these are unintended, thus birth chance or, really, a contingency. As it is true, there are things which we cannot comprehend until they play themselves out; id est, they presuppose (justify) retroactively their existence once they play out... This post obviously starts out with @vdux's Haiku contest post. Also in the midst of actually participating in @calluna's Tell a Story to Me contest, she recently submitted a prompt to @bananafish's Finish the Story contest in its 36th iteration. So forgive me not, both audience and [expunged], for the minor reference to @calluna's story, it really is a dirty cheat if one thinks for one second... Today's music-aides: "Seven Nation Army" [1.] (2Cellos, YT).}
- Nineteen-Seventy-Seven -
Abstract drawings here
humanity's hopes inscribed -
they responded not.
{The following two fail the 5-7-5 structure, yet this was as reduced as I was going to get from translating into Chinese and Spanish.}
这里抽象画
人类的希望被铭刻在一起 -
他们没有回应。
Dibujos abstractos aquí
esperanzas y sueños -
no respondieron.
Prompt by @calluna
“When I was your age, I was quite the wild one. Ahhh that look, that ‘sure granny’ look, well if you don’t believe me.”
The underpaid nurse attempting to spoon feed the elderly lady sat, heaped spoon waiting for a pause between words.
“I had quite the adventure, back when I was twenty-two, I never told your mam about this one”
Susie suppressed a sigh, every resident took her as a different relative. They used a warm, familiar tone with her, looking into her eyes, and seeing those of another. She’d given up correcting them, not one of them could remember her name.
“It was during the war, your grandpa worked intelligence out of one of those top secret northern bunkers, that’s where he got that compass you used to love playing with.”
There was something about never been seen as herself that was starting to eat at Susie. At first, she’d pitied them, unable to see things for what they were, but as time went by, every word spoken to her, meant for another, began to cut.
“It’s been two months since i’d had a letter from him, and well, you can imagine what I thought when a man in uniform knocked at the door.”
Finally catching a pause in the residents flow, Susie swooped in with a spoon full of buttery mash, beaded with peas. For loud, sloppy moments the lady chewed, and trying to draw on her compassion, Susie smiled, scooping up another spoonful.
“Well my heart dropped and I nearly fainted before he could speak. That awkward young officer grabbed my hands, looking me firm in the eyes, ‘He’s not dead Mrs Ellerton, he’s fine, I just need you to come with me’. I’ve never packed a bag so fast in my life!”
Susie quickly exploited the dramatic moment, dropped another spoon of mash, this time laked with stewed beef and gravy, into the open mouth. She used to hate herself for finding those too far gone to chatter away easier, avoiding the talkers, but despite her best evasions, she’d got stuck with conversational Mrs Ellerton today.
“We sped down those country roads, whizzing up north, in hours. He told me nothing on the way, offering only that Nick would tell me when we got there. I’d had no idea what to bring, and had frantically thrown everything I could think of into my bag, as we drove up I began to realise all the things i’d not thought of, but there was no turning back, I could tell by the way that officer gripped the wheel we were in a hurry!”
Mrs Ellerton wasn’t letting up, Susie glanced at the clock, her shift was due to finish in ten minutes, but she couldn’t go anywhere until the old bag wrapped it up. Putting the spoon down, she tried to fight the rising anger, and decided to try and get Mrs Ellerton to cut to the chase.
“So why had your husband had you brought there?”
- Ending by @theironfelix -
“Oh sweetie, don't rush me now. But I suppose since you want to live life like I did... So we finally had gotten to that northern bunker and, of course it was a 'secret' facility, I had to be blindfolded. Oh, how many steps I took when I gotten out of the car; my shaking legs pleaded to stop walking but my heart so wanted to see your grandpa's baby-face. When we neared the end, he stopped me and called someone to unblind me.”
“And who unblinded you?”
“Why of course, your grandpa! Oh how disciplined each step of his was and how calm the untying was. Aw! When my eyes saw the beautiful light, the first image was of him. And he did the sweetest thing!~”
And yet the aide's body remained as stone, yet her eyes darting around 'tween the clock and the Ellerton’s ecstatic wrinkles.
“Oh dearie, why your grandpa knelt down and opened the box with this diamond ring! How could I refuse?... But oh, that wasn't the last of that, for, right after I accepted, he told me to turn and look to the side. I asked what the occasion was and he said they were planning to launch the golden disk into space. Containing important information for possible alien races to use and contact us later. The purpose: to better humanity.”
Echoes of light sneers and jeers fill the room, though dying out as soon as it exploded the room.
“Well forgive our innocence, we thought they would respond sooner than later. Maybe one day, when it’ll hit an alien’s head!... But that was in 1977.”
In the air of silence, the aide leaned closer and trembled as awkwardness continues its trickster play on the ears. A spoonful spooned, the aide quivers with the mashed potatoes but follows her routine as per usual. As if the munching killed the silent snicker, the story sounded the room again.
“Yes, to better humanity. I don’t know if I would call this a better life, I mean look at you dearie. I know that uniform to be rags back in my day. And me, I don’t know how many people I mistake to be my grandchildren. Heh, I only recognize recently you now as not mines, but I’ll still say otherwise tomorrow and the day after that.”
“…”
“No need to respond, I couldn’t if I was in your spot. Which I was, but that’s neither here or there. You know, it be sweet if those aliens show up and heal our planet from this accursed sinful world we live in. God, I shouldn’t even be thinking these thoughts in my prime time. But dearie, ain’t I right? Is what I experienced still haunting us, with how corrupt and decayed society is?”
“I guess you are right.”
“Heh, our dreams died when that disc launched... goodbye dearie. Hey, promise to make better on your life?~”
“If life doesn’t crush me first.”
“Heh, life doesn’t crush you. Our system does that sweetie.”
Normally the end blurb would be am extension of the beginning blurb or its own tangent. Yet today I like to act upon @marcoriccardi’s post and do my own blurb on last week’s Finish The Story iteration. Of course let’s begin simply that it was grounded in my prompt of pirates encountering pirate hunters. What would not be evident for those that don’t check my account often is that this Wither is the same as Cap’n Wither in his premiere story and the story that named him properly. But that’s neither here or there as and I wanted to see where they would carry Wither, at least now I have some personality traits to humour. Regardless, that prompt is a part of Wither’s arc and I’ll have to explain the pirate democracy aspectd in later installments. (Oh no, it’s to avoid killing of the Madame Cap’n and make a proper prequel where he does fight the New Angel Captain.)
Yet with Cap’n Wither in my monoverse and multigalaxy story explained for now, let’s get to the entries proper. The first two entries, nicknamed first (@michaias‘s ending) and second blood (stever82’s ending), were really fun to read and I had a good chuckle thanks to the good pirate accent (same to @coinsandchains) in the first and the usage of distraction (gold dubloons) in the second ending. Then I read @dirge’s prompt and I must say that he crafted a great ending and allowed us to see the other ship and hint [expunged because you need to read it now]. Then I got to oure other veteran accounts like @marcoriccardi, @agmoore and @tristancarax, love thy endings. Especially yers @marcoriccardi with the diary ending. But ultimately my popular vote (as I had a hunch that @dirge and @michaias would win) went to @calluna. Yer ending really got me goingn and I’m gonna extend it in thy honour (trust me it’ll work, robo-pirates and all).
But for those that entered in and didn’t get directly mentioned in this report, know I still love thee and consider commenting here so I can add my remarks to thy story here. Although my comment on thou story should be enough, let’s make sure those that come here know what I thought of the ending. After all, we should all know what we think of each others’ stories if we want to be a serious community.
Otherwise: hello and welcome to the bananafish realms, new entryists. Enjoy your stay here, as much as you can enjoy it! We’ll need your participation if we’re gonna grow, consider supporting us. Anyways, I like to pass this theme of weekly iteration reports to @calluna; like to see how’d yah react to this week’s prompts.
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Made me think of a play at a theater with the ending. It all wrapped together with the feeling of a meaningful conclusion.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments! I recently was reading Shakespeare’s Macbeth and I remembered why I loved Shakespeare and usage of multiple figures. And well, I never found “cynicism” to truly be what they want to tell itself as. Both in historical content (those that actually were Cynics and lived life minimally) and actually being “cynical” for cynical’s sake (id est, they still are an optimist or defeatist for someone else when they “doubt” a thing). So I decided to jeer them and make a subtle comment that the World will have a meaning for something, no matter how small or profound it is. Not because in essence it has a meaning inherent to it, but because we cannot fathom a real thing having no meaning. Even the act of saying “it’s meaningless” declares ones ignorance, a thing that eludes us in meaning, we perceived it in a wrong light or it needs another thing in order to make it meaningful.
Yet do I declare this story to have a grandeur meaning? That’s a thing past to present to future me am thinking whenever I craft a piece. The questions of consistency, shared narratives, related themes and having an independent voice for every element is a thing I do want to keep in mind. But this story, well let it be left to the reader to know my biases and take in the behind the scenes detail I mention as to then craft up that meaning. I trust the reader enough to get close enough to what I perceive the meaning to be.
I shall await thy ending.
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What I love especially is the way you allow us to see beyond the superficial differences that seem to separate the patient from the aide. You break down the artificial barrier and show us the humanity in both.
I enjoyed your piece very much. Also was amused by the way you tied it in with @calluna's prompt. This is one I've been thinking about for a few days.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments! The set up was perfect for the eventual breakdown of formalities to get at some informality. To strike at this barrier and let the medium of communication really happen, for which @calluna set up first. Yet gracefully I followed the tear down and let the aide truly utilize her two ears and one mouth. So she could listen to it twice and respond to it once. Also grateful that yah were amused with my tie-in, check tomorrow for how I play on that (along with othet factors).
"Listen to it twice and respond to it once" :))
he had her whisked away to propose in the midst of war, and a mission unknown. There is an emotional depth between the lines here, and the idea of the disc being sent in the hopes of swift war-ending reply works so well. The way Mrs Ellerton becomes more present adds to the moment of connection, as she sees the nurse for who she is, and the life she lives. I really loved how you chose to end it!
<3 <3
UwU ~ Thanks for the compliments and thanks for reading! I want to thank you once more for having both of your prompts in this week, albeit this served to respond to your #finishthestory prompt in spite of the reference. Anyways, will await (after two-three weeks) yer comment on yer actual prompt for #tellastoryforme.
Regardless, knowing what I knew of militaries yanking families far-and-wide and knowing the lad wasn’t dead, this was the next important reason to yank her: marriage. Yet I felt it wouldn’t be enough, since he was working in intel. So with the grace of thy other prompt, I only had to play the connection game and I’m glad it worked out here. Also the fact I wanted a preface and justification to my #tellastorytome entry without being explicit about such until one reads my entry to yer contest. Equally that I wanted to relate to my overaching themes and biases I want to promote in me pieces. Id est, the cynical worldview is a problem due to its incorrect perception (and betrayal to The Great Cynic Diogenes of Sinope) and that life will be bestowed meaning because we can’t fathom a thing without one.
Get 'em all in at once, eh?
UwU ~ Thanks for the comment and thanks for reading! Welp, there was one more haiku I want'd to squeeze in but I didn't want to risk someone beating me to first blood title in this week's #finishthestory.
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I recognise your most attentioned socio-economical themes in this dialogue. What hits me is the melancholy of Mrs Ellerton musings, counterposed to her wish for a renewal entrusted in her final reccomendations to the nurse. A delicate sense of lost innocence but also hope spreads through all the story.
UwU ~ Thanks for the compliments and thanks for reading! Yeah, felt right with how cheery Mrs. Ellerton that she was compensating of avoiding something. For while the memory was sweet, the aftertaste can always be bitter and avoiding it perhaps was her only way to live in a life that was not worth living. Yet with the aide interrupting her, in the prompt, presented the perfect counterpoint to make her rethink her memory and jump out of her ecstasy from nostalgia.
Which then lead to her melancholy as she finally saw she wasn’t living the life not worth living. Yet, with seeing a person who’s life wasn’t wasted, all she can do is to push her towards fighting for a life worth living. Now it’s up to the nurse to fight for a life worth living.
I love the haiku.
I love that you wrote FTS with the Golden Disk in mind.
[Man, I wish I could comment like you, but this is what you get from me for now. lol]
UwU ~ Thanks for the compliments and thanks for reading! Glad yah like both the haiku and reference to the golden disk in the ending.
But humble thy love o' me comments. I speak only as a person that has saw many things and wishes to put them to good use. From the chaotic bur orderliness of Madness Combat on NewGrounds to the Surreal like Dali and Ernst Max to the theoretical like Karl Marx, Plato and Marcus Aurelius.
Yet remember to humble thyself with saying "the only thing I do know is that I know nothing." And thou shall show one's education is complete or still in the process. Study! Study! Study! Learn while thou can, but remember to exercise in the meanwhile. Not only that, but don't shy away from the theatricals or simple stuff. To think oneself as high and mighty is to not have learnt a thing while purporting to know it all.
First, to your thoughtful haiku - I've wondered if the record has been intercepted yet by any lifeform that is willing to put in the time to try to translate it. Translating languages can be tricky without a frame of reference or key, as you know. While efforts were made to aid in translation, there aren't any guarantees that they were/will be effective. I'll quote how Rebecca Orchard and Sheri Wells-Jensen at Bowling Green State University put it.
Or perhaps an answer or message was given, and it's not been received or understood yet on our end. And yes, there is the possibility that no message has or will ever be given. (I've some relatives that I send letters and cards to and haven't been given a response and these are people who know me. 😁 - Or maybe it's because they know me that they don't bother. 😂)
Second, to your story - I love that you interconnected Calluna's FTS prompt and Tell Me A Story challenge for this story! The use of the blindfold (terrific touch of realism btw) leading to the romantic proposal begins your ending on a high note. New life together, hopes for the future and all that shining out from Ellerton's story. Then the contrast to the present rained down like ice water from a bucket. All that withered as decades passed and society still had people working just to make ends meet and aging people left in facilities that are (sometimes) run by cold business decisions and not with care to make life for the residents one of quality.
I say "withered" as it did not die. I took from this that Mrs. Ellerton was telling this to her nurse in hope that her life would take a different track. That she'd not become worn down by a system that, like people, could change. Her dreams of betterment brought by outside intervention may have died but she wanted the young woman to go out and do for herself what she could, not to sit back and pin all of her hopes on something that may never happen. That's why I chose your story as my favorite for this round.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments! Good to know yah loved both the haiku and FinishTheStory entries and saw how interconnected they were. (Especially with @calluna’s pronpt for her contest.) Regardless, after X decades since launch, it always will lead to the antinony of the aliens not existing/understanding, or they received and understood it and then we don’t understand their reply. Which any a case, this antinomy will stay valid until we get a message back and understand that was a message for us that we can decode. Such is life.
On the interception of the Golden Disk however, well let’s say that’s the fate of that... lead to a whole series of events maybe unrelated to the launch. (Of course that post is a part of @calluna’s Tell a story to Me contest, maybe yah wanna join in?)
To move on, I love yah saw the socio-economic contrivances that her present conflicts her past. Or to put it to Marx’s words: “The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living.” Yet, as Marx would note, this is a nightmare Mrs. Ellerton has been struggling with for quite a while to then see the end of it with her aide that faithful day. Thus why her life brightened just enough to kick the aide’s pessimism (or optimism of things staying the same) so she can start what her part of the generation failed to do. To quote Samuel Beckett: “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.”