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the only way i could do future tense is in a second person view

E.G.

"you go eat the cookies" actaully im not even sure that is future tense

At 12/21/05 05:58 PM, BlueFlameXmasSkulls wrote:

"you go eat the cookies" actaully im not even sure that is future tense

That is present imperative. It'd have to be "You will eat the cookies, you are going to eat the cookies"

This is only the beginning of something I'm writing. Exposition. There will be a story eventually, but I haven't yet flowed into one. Tell em what you think of it thus far.

Nothing nibbles at your heart so much as loneliness. It bites, it twists, it wrenches at your heartstrings, straining them. Yes, there is resilience, for haven’t we proved ourselves as the hardiest of His creatures on this earth? But like Achilles, so does our vanity and conceit consume us, so does the divine wonder of our heart fade and deteriorate, be it by barbed arrow or some other unwanted cause of an adverse nature.
I scoff when the fool says “ ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” I say, “ ‘Tis better to love, and likewise be loved.” Such sayings are intended only to appease the weak and shallow. But not I. A more clear sight do I possess, though not the clearest mind you, and certainly not Plato’s “Absolute”. But suffice it to say my perception is at least barely past that of my peers.
Just as I loathe loneliness, I despise my peers. There are friends, of course. A number of well trusted cohorts that for some reason found me a suitable comrade. But many of the fellows I am forced to learn with, if you can even call it learning, hold no high regard of mine. And honestly, I’m not sure I do either.
We are wretched, and our daily meeting place a hive of superficiality, falsehood, lukewarm sentiments, and prematurely expressed “feelings”. We don’t feel. I wonder, are we even capable of being ourselves? Like most, I fancy myself of a more unique sort, but how subtly does one change! Have I ever made a decision without considering what others would think? Have you? Do I not dress in a manner not of my own pure and absolute will but instead in a manner that will appeal to the majority, that will prevent me from being the subject of conversation, the subject of discontent? I’m not sure, uncertainty is all I’m certain of.
That and my inevitable lack of real companionship. The variety in which blissful hours pass in moments, where just seeing her face will induce intense smiling, the sort where you laugh at everything, tell everything, share everything. I wonder if it is even attainable. Dostoevsky said, “So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find some one to worship.” And I thought I had found my idol, no, I did! God forbids idolatry, but I’m sure if the object of worship were one of his radiant seraphim he would not object.
And she is. And He won’t.
“Eala Earendil engla beorthast” is a farce, its scribe had yet to know the gentle curvatures of her face. And were she subject to Agamemnon, 10,000, not 1,000 ships would sail for her. She is the sun around which revolve all our ideals of kindness, beauty, empathy, and those other virtues that matter much. She is what Plato would describe as the “Absolute”. The true, pure embodiment of perfection, that which dims all neighboring stars, outshining them.
I am a spiteful man. I hate being spiteful, and that hate is cause for more self-spite, and I have a surplus of that. If I were really so removed from the rest of the world, nothing would affect me. But indeed, everything does.
If a fellow to my unliking should acquire a taste for an art I considered ‘mine’, I would feel spite and resentment. Rather, shouldn’t I be delighted? The Janusesque policy that controls my being infuriates me.
Pray don’t misread me. I am not at all in any support of a one track, easily decisive mind. Indecision is a virtue, indifference and apathy a curse. Perhaps the only redeeming quality of myself is my inability to ever make up my mind, which most see as a fault, and that bothers me. Again with the Janus…

At 12/21/05 12:03 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: And then he would read your post and say "by God", just before he decides to talk to his neighbor about shovelling the driveway like the gentleman he can, and will, be.

That sounds like it, but I'm not sure, as I've never dealt with future tense before in writing.

(Sorry this is short and kind of useless... all my good ideas have been funnelled into my novel lately.)

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I felt like screaming out, what do you want?, but I knew it was no use. I knew asking questions was not getting me anywhere. I found it perfect timing for these men to arrive. Simply recalling what they told me before seemed to begin to fill some gaps. I am monitored – this is obvious. Why I am being monitored I do not know. Was someone afraid I would deviate from their little game? Did I truly feel at best while killing?

I looked ahead of me, and my gun was already upright towards those standing strong in the wind and rain. Impulse, Intuition.

“I KNOW NOW,” they looked at me, still without movement, “YOU ARE THE STIMULI!” the words barely shouted over the storm towards them.

Them and all the other crap thrown my way.

I lost track of one of them. There only stood three in front of me. My mind wanted to wander my surroundings desperately looking for the fourth, but I knew that would put down my guard. I stood, silent, listening.

I turned directly around with my fist in the air, and locked my right arm with a yellow arm behind me. I twisted my body to the left and elbowed the machine in the face while stepping back away from his reach. Two shots was enough to drop one more robot to the ground.

I turned to my left and found nothing. The attackers were making use of the dark surroundings. I felt my arms suddenly barred to my back, and a whisper in my ear, “come with us and we will take you from this place.”

The gun, still in my hand, shot the foot behind me, but nothing. My rage grew and I jolted my arms foreword with all my strength, bringing two mechanical arms with me. The other two pulled out their weapons. I saw what they did to that one Eli. I ran. I ran to the edge that Eli fell off of and I jumped. Shots clang and ricocheted off the roof behind me as I fell to what seemed to be a sure death. There was no Eli beneath me.

Well, I doubt I'll have much time for writing over Christmas, I'll be going to meet up with the family tomorrow, but there might still be some room for a bit of creative exercise somewhere.

As I said, I'll try and post a readable version of Noir for comment some time (if any of you want to work around the horrible errors in the version I posted previously then be my guest), other than that I don't really have any projects, so I'm thinking of going back and revising my entire ongoing sci-fi epic (I have a feeling it's approaching twenty pages now :O), as the first sections are really shit. I'll probably post it on the NGER (lawlz, that sounds almost like ni-*slap*) forums when/if it gets done, as it's way too big to do here.

Ok, I updated our collab page.

And for those still in it the third round is now open in the poetry contest.

http://www.newground../topic.php?id=401133

Somewhere deep within the heartland of Britain, an elite group of men meet to make decisions that will affect the entire planet. The very being of the earth often depends on these men meeting and taking the hard decisions that no one else is prepared to make.
“So were backing “Once In A Blue Moon” to win the race then?”
Today however, the room where these important decisions were made was being used by a small group of the British Gentry, as a Parlour. The “English Gentlemen’s’ Club”, as they were known, had recently purchased the building to be their new clubhouse forcing the important decision making to be moved elsewhere.
“You can back Once In A Blue Moon if you want Coop. I’m backing Turtles Speed to win!”
One thing that can be said about the EGC is that whilst they were very well bred, the inbreeding of the aristocracy had had a small affect on the majority of these fine gentlemen. They were eccentric. Often, to the point of lunacy.
Lord Coop sniffed disdainfully at the comment and glanced at the form of Lord Toluene. He was one of the youngest members of the group but had helped establish it in its new home after the old one had been laid waste by vandals and Chavs’. He wore a traditional suit and a large badge firmly showing his support for the Monster raving Looney Party. Despite the fact that he was an hereditary peer he had been banned from the House of Lords for an incident involving a carrot, the Duchess of York and a jar of peanut butter. Much to everyone else’s disgust he was quite prepared to repeat the story at every opportunity he got.
“My dear Toluene” said Coop “Surely the fact that you have backed Turtles Speed in every single race this year and he hasn’t won must tell you something about it?”
Lord Toluene blinked.
“Eh? Are you suggesting I hack another porsche?” babbled the Lord Toluene who had a habit of talking faster than his brain could handle at times. As a result he was victim to the infamous spoonerism.
“My dear Chap” Said Coop quite used to the earl of Dudley’s hampered oratory skills. “Next time you go down to the Looney Party’s stables look at all the horses. You will notice that the majority of them will be roughly the same size and be brown, black, grey or white. The minority, i.e. Turtles Speed, will be rather smaller and a mucky shade of green.”
“I fail to see what you are implying dear boy.” replied a rather baffled Toluene.
“What I am suggesting dear chap, is that the reason Turtle’s speed moves at a turtles speed is that he is, in fact, a turtle who has been placed in the stable to keep it warm over the winter.”
Coop could see the cogs turning in Toluene’s head as he struggled with working out the implications of what he had just been told.
“So… he isn’t a horse?”
Coop sighed with relief pleased that his friend had managed to understand what he had said.
“Yes Toluene. He isn’t a horse.”
An awkward silence filled the room until the Maid Mrs Miggins walked in with a tray of tea and scones. After a hearty dose of both, Toluene seemed to have begun to recover from his shock discovery.
“So what are the plans for today Coop?” inquired Lord Toluene through a moustache of cream and jam.
“We can decide that as soon as the others get here.”
As though following a walk on cue from a director the door to the parlour swung open, and two men walked in both wearing cricket gear and carrying bats.
Lord Moose and Sir Phantom had arrived.
“Hello chaps!” shouted Sir Phantom louder than he really needed to “We’ve just finished training Tin Henman! He wants a change of sport and, by crikey, if he isn’t on the English side by the next Ashes I’ll eat my hat.
Moose raised an eye brow at this comment.
“Phantom old boy, we weren’t training Tim Henman. We were helping the underprivileged commoner s learn the fine art of cricket. Though I must say they weren’t very grateful! It’s not my fault that they can’t catch a ball that was heading towards their mother’s window.”
Coop chuckled.
“Honestly, I don’t see why or how these people are able to get away with it. I still don’t know why the government doesn’t make cricket a compulsory sport.” He said as he opened up the times to check the result of yesterdays’ test match.
“The blinders are more concerned with sorting out the problems of these damned immigrants, that’s what it is! If they threw them all out they’d have more money to fund into cricket.” Snapped Toluene as Moose and Phantom sat down.
“Careful old boy” said Coop taking a sip of tea. “You’re beginning to sound like a Tory. If you’re not careful you’ll end up voting for Cameron in the next election.”
The colour drained from Toluene’s face as he fell to his knees and made the sign of the cross on his abdomen.
“Dear Lord. Please forgive me for even sounding like one of those damned Tories. Incidentally, if you could pass on a message to screaming Lord Sutch, could you tell him that Mrs Miggins says hello? She really does miss him ands his random rants about life.”
“EUREKA!” came a shout from down below.
“What the dickens was that?” inquired Moose.
“Sounds like Lord Man to me, didn’t even realise he was here. Wonder what crackpot invention he has developed this time?” said coop as he put the newspaper down.
The door flung open and Lord DaMain Man ran into the room screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Eureka!”
“I’ll say you do” sniffed Toluene. “I thought you intellectual typea had all your good ideas in baths. From the smell of things water hasn’t touched your skin for weeks.”
Lord Man Brushed the Comment aside and addressed his fellow members of the gentry.
“I’ve done it chaps! I’ve created…” he paused for dramatic effect “A Time Machine!”
Sir Phantom sniffed, remembering what had happened the last time Lord Man had created an invention that would change the world. The solar powered pacemaker had seemed like a good idea at the time but when they had installed it in Moose’s butler after he had a heart attack, well, its is sufficient to say that installing it on the day of a solar eclipse in the middle of winter whilst they were in northern Russia on a alcohol shopping trip wasn’t a good idea. Moose had yet to replace the butler and was currently borrowing Toluene’s old one that he kept in the cupboard for emergencies.
“Do you need to know your blows Phantom?” muddled the Lord Toluene as he fell victim to yet another oratory failure.

“Don’t just stand there!” Said a rather excited Lord Man “Hurry up and come see it!”
He pulled Coop up and led him off out the room down the stairs. The other looked at one another wearily, quite aware of the potential disaster that could ensue. Slowly, they got up and followed Coop and Man.
---------------------------------------

This is my attempt to start recording the adventures of the EGC in a literary form. Read,review, comment.

Just thought I'd pop in and wish you chaps a merry christmas. Hope your having a good one :P

At 12/24/05 03:20 PM, Tri-Nitro-Toluene wrote: Coop sighed with relief pleased that his friend had managed to understand what he had said.
“Yes Toluene. He isn’t a horse.”

Well done old boy, that writing was truly spiffing.

Merry Xmas, I have returned to the BBS after a few days away. I see that TNT has been busy, so what's everyone else been up to?

At 12/26/05 06:03 AM, Coop83 wrote: Well done old boy, that writing was truly spiffing.

Thank you very much old bean :-)

At 12/26/05 06:03 AM, Coop83 wrote: so what's everyone else been up to?

Inspiration is about to hit me with my novel, I can feel it.
But I can't post anything here. my computer won't let me post more than four lines

Sounds good. I shall join, for I am great at writing. Some people know me as, Ryudo Underground. Never heard of me? I bet not.

At 12/18/05 06:54 PM, -Doctor_Claus- wrote: Is it just me, or is anyone else seeing a lot of random question marks and pieces of inappropriate punctuation scattered throughout several of the most recent pieces?
Otherwise my computer is crapping out.

^Anyone?
Please come right out and say NO if you don't. The proplem appears to be quotation marks and apostrophies being replaced by question marks. Please tell me I'm not the only one getting this.

Oh and MERRAY CRISMARSE!
I spent the festive season drinking stella and several pints of wine with the ol' family. Nothing else interesting happened. Other than Dr. Who being on TV christmas day. That rocked.

At 12/28/05 11:17 AM, -Doctor_Claus- wrote: Anyone?

Yeah, I see stuff like that. As the "Euro" money mark and so on. Wierdness. :-/

Hey guys. Just telling you that I made an ongoing story club... go to it to find out what its about. I thought it would be cool if you guys joined in. At the very least, go there and see what its about. Thanks.

I wanted a few reviews on the BBS story called Death and Dog Tags.I finally finished it and there's ten chapters,making it too time consuming to post them all here.Here's the link-

http://www.freewebs.com/redder212/

At 12/28/05 11:17 AM, -Doctor_Claus- wrote: Anyone?

No... my problem is only being able to post four lines of text and only in IE

At 12/28/05 05:16 PM, MadDog2020 wrote: Hey guys. Just telling you that I made an ongoing story club... go to it to find out what its about. I thought it would be cool if you guys joined in. At the very least, go there and see what its about. Thanks.

I'll go and check it out :-)

At 12/28/05 11:17 AM, -Doctor_Claus- wrote: ^Anyone?

Hadn't noticed it myslef in all honesty.

Other than Dr. Who being on TV christmas day. That rocked.

You have excellent taste in TV Viewing Doctor :P

Rawr, Writer's Guild.
Rawr. How have you all been?

Me? Besides the fact that I got robbed of meh cell phone, I'm fine.

At 12/31/05 11:27 AM, Mick_the_champion wrote: Do we still dot hat collab?

Well... Tri is up if we are... I've got time again so...

At 12/31/05 11:42 AM, gumOnShoe wrote: Well... Tri is up if we are... I've got time again so...

If were still doing it I can get my part done by tommorow.

I'm back.
For good.

I'm still up for the collab... I'd like to finish it at the least, just to see what we come up with...

At 1/3/06 04:17 PM, Mick_the_champion wrote: Let's just copy Mulholland Drive and say the whole story was a wank fantasy - I mean "Roberto" is a pretty homo-erotic name.

names can be changed... its not that big of deal. And if you are suggesting a dream cop out... I don't think I could ever end a story that way.

Sounds hawt.

At 1/4/06 02:10 PM, gumOnShoe wrote: names can be changed... its not that big of deal. And if you are suggesting a dream cop out... I don't think I could ever end a story that way.

Whose turn did we get up to? It seemed to have died, but I'll help with the ressurection, if we decide to go for it.

At 1/5/06 04:35 AM, Coop83 wrote:

At 1/4/06 02:10 PM, gumOnShoe wrote: names can be changed... its not that big of deal. And if you are suggesting a dream cop out... I don't think I could ever end a story that way.

Whose turn did we get up to? It seemed to have died, but I'll help with the ressurection, if we decide to go for it.

Like I said on the last page, if we are continueing its Tri's turn. I'm still in, I'd guess Myst is... Doctor probably is as well... the only one I see dropping out is Mic...

Oh, my mistake and my apologies.