Women. For a long time women have been the innocent creatures that need to be protected. Even in this modern day and age women are still looked at somewhat innocently. If they do anything bad it's because they are coerced to by men who control society.
I do think that women are sometimes looked at as nothing more than objects to be played with and discarded. I know some men that look down on women as weak and should be forced around as cattle. But, at the same time, some women will look down on men as some men look down on women. Is this because they want to be the same as men? No. They don't care about men.
The truth is that some people will always objectify others. Recently a boy made a list ranking girls on a certain criteria. The list contained crude things and was posted on Facebook. As you are getting worked up about that remember that earlier a woman made a list talking about how good certain men were at effing her. Which one do you think is worse?
Personally, I don't mind either. The thing that I find a problem with is that the first one was posted on Facebook and the second one was sent in an e-mail (which was meant to be private, but you know how that goes).
Why don't I find a problem with it? Am I just a horrible person? No, I'm not getting my panties in a bunch for nothing. Those two people were objectifying people like everyone does at least once (if you haven't looked at a hot person, maybe an actor, like you wanted them you are a saint).
But, I guess, the bigger problem is that people don't look at what's underneath. I believe that you have to look underneath to truly love a person but what is outside really hits home quicker. It's a horrible part of our world but something we all have to live with.
Before you start eying women/men be aware of this one fact: Just because people objectify others doesn't mean you should be a jerk about it.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Camera Problems January 2011
Update:
I figured it out! It's just it involved me pressing random stuff and so that takes awhile (because I like to be logical at first).
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Make a Story about My HA Contest (Subeta)
This was a contest I had on Subeta. Why on Subeta? Because I can actually give prizes there. This contest was to make a story for my HA (Human Avatar). Below is my HA as well as the contest winner's entry.
It wasn't supposed to happen.
There was a flaw in their design. Don't ask me how. Hell, don't even ask me who They are. If I knew- things might be different.
Or they might be just as they were now.
The last I remembered of life was the screech of metal tearing apart. Twisting and scraping in a horrendous mess. Most of all I remember the burning flesh. The smell would forever mar my senses. Even now I could sense it was still there, in the back of my mind. I could see the skin burning, layers flaying away in molten masses to show the glean of impossible white. Bone.
Who knew it could be so white?
At the most, it was unfair. Cruel even, that my last (and only for that matter) memory of real life was so horrendous that I pretended It wasn't mine to begin with. In reality however, I knew that it had been my flesh melting away. My bone. The metal around me had trapped me inside, burned me alive. Even now I couldn't tell you what the metal was.
It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything.
I awoke to a room far to child like for my own comfort. Pastel yellows and pinks blended around me. There was no furniture however, no fluffy bunnies or happy ponies. Only pastel yellow walls, trimmed with pink lining. No bed. No door. No window.
Only walls surrounded me. Had I been claustrophobic I may have died. It's only now that I can laugh at that expression. The moment I woke up, my mind hadn't exactly wrapped around the fact that I wasn't breathing. If I had put my hand to my chest, there would have been no hammering where my heart should be.
It wasn't until the robed figure marched through the wall that I began to panic. Upon entering my room, the figure stood in front of me even as the walls began to evaporate. Around me now, was nothingness.
I screamed.
To my credit, most people would have done more. Most people wouldn't stand and listen as a faceless robe explained to them that they were dead, and that now they had a job to do. I did, however. Once the warm greetings were out of the way (Not that there were any), I was sent back to Earth. Not to live, but to start my duty. Before me was a list of names, people that had to be taken care of.
I was given only this list, a spotted feline like creature, and the task of collecting these 99 souls. I would take them to where I had awoken. I would not harm them, not spiritually at least. It took me years, yet I found them all.
To my credit, the 99 souls were collected far faster than the robes expected. One by one they were captured in my private hell of nothing, and even though not one of them looked familiar to me, I knew that they had played some part in what had happened. I believed that.
It was the feline that brought in number 99. He was the evasive one. He seemed to always know when we were upon him, and when we would strike. Earth children called him magical, their adults called him crazy. I didn't care much for calling him anything.
I only wanted him.
Once inside the vast nothing I had been 'born' into, he stumbled. Clearly shaking, and understanding well of what was to become of him, he demanded I let him go. He threatened he would harm me.
Then he fell to his knees and begged me not to harm him.
“Where am I?” he stammered. It was a question I had never allowed the others an answer to. Now, with them all here however, I granted him the pleasure of knowledge. If only this once.
“Your in the in between” I announced, my voice cold and raspy from years of non use. I had already forgotten what I had sounded like in life. “Now it's time you moved forward”
They all became alert. As they should have. Yet nothing they did could have deemed any difference to the robes. The appeared from nowhere, encompassing the room within seconds. Once they were gone, so were my souls.
All 99 of them.
In there place now where lanterns. They floated in exact locations where there had once been a person. Or at least the remembrance of a person. I stared on at this site, suddenly feeling robbed. It was only then, that the feline who had accompanied me in my many conquest, finally spoke:
“It wasn't supposed to happen. You dying. There was a flaw in there design. In ancient China, the symbol of a lantern burning bright through the darkness was meant to welcome lost souls. You've captured all ninety nine.
All those that participated in breaking the original plan of life, thus causing your death."
I smiled. Yes. This was what I had wanted. Revenge.
Life.
The triumph however, was short lived. Pain shot through me, causing me to double over in an effort to stay on my feet. Falling in the in between- was much different than standing after all. Acid burned through my veins, causing me to dig my nails into flesh. I shouldn't have felt pain. Pain meant I was alive.
Was I?
It didn't matter. The pain continued, getting worse. The tearing of flesh filled the air. It was then I decided that burning wasn't the worst memory I had.
Once it all subsided, and I stood- I knew all to well what had happened. Without a mirror, I knew without a doubt about the wings that had grown outwards. The feathers were still bloody, streaking down my back and onto the floor.
"We aren't offering you a new life. We're simply giving you the right to consume it”
- To be continued??? -
(Not really)
Sirenwolf
Also look at her BLOG!
It wasn't supposed to happen.
There was a flaw in their design. Don't ask me how. Hell, don't even ask me who They are. If I knew- things might be different.
Or they might be just as they were now.
The last I remembered of life was the screech of metal tearing apart. Twisting and scraping in a horrendous mess. Most of all I remember the burning flesh. The smell would forever mar my senses. Even now I could sense it was still there, in the back of my mind. I could see the skin burning, layers flaying away in molten masses to show the glean of impossible white. Bone.
Who knew it could be so white?
At the most, it was unfair. Cruel even, that my last (and only for that matter) memory of real life was so horrendous that I pretended It wasn't mine to begin with. In reality however, I knew that it had been my flesh melting away. My bone. The metal around me had trapped me inside, burned me alive. Even now I couldn't tell you what the metal was.
It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything.
I awoke to a room far to child like for my own comfort. Pastel yellows and pinks blended around me. There was no furniture however, no fluffy bunnies or happy ponies. Only pastel yellow walls, trimmed with pink lining. No bed. No door. No window.
Only walls surrounded me. Had I been claustrophobic I may have died. It's only now that I can laugh at that expression. The moment I woke up, my mind hadn't exactly wrapped around the fact that I wasn't breathing. If I had put my hand to my chest, there would have been no hammering where my heart should be.
It wasn't until the robed figure marched through the wall that I began to panic. Upon entering my room, the figure stood in front of me even as the walls began to evaporate. Around me now, was nothingness.
I screamed.
To my credit, most people would have done more. Most people wouldn't stand and listen as a faceless robe explained to them that they were dead, and that now they had a job to do. I did, however. Once the warm greetings were out of the way (Not that there were any), I was sent back to Earth. Not to live, but to start my duty. Before me was a list of names, people that had to be taken care of.
I was given only this list, a spotted feline like creature, and the task of collecting these 99 souls. I would take them to where I had awoken. I would not harm them, not spiritually at least. It took me years, yet I found them all.
To my credit, the 99 souls were collected far faster than the robes expected. One by one they were captured in my private hell of nothing, and even though not one of them looked familiar to me, I knew that they had played some part in what had happened. I believed that.
It was the feline that brought in number 99. He was the evasive one. He seemed to always know when we were upon him, and when we would strike. Earth children called him magical, their adults called him crazy. I didn't care much for calling him anything.
I only wanted him.
Once inside the vast nothing I had been 'born' into, he stumbled. Clearly shaking, and understanding well of what was to become of him, he demanded I let him go. He threatened he would harm me.
Then he fell to his knees and begged me not to harm him.
“Where am I?” he stammered. It was a question I had never allowed the others an answer to. Now, with them all here however, I granted him the pleasure of knowledge. If only this once.
“Your in the in between” I announced, my voice cold and raspy from years of non use. I had already forgotten what I had sounded like in life. “Now it's time you moved forward”
They all became alert. As they should have. Yet nothing they did could have deemed any difference to the robes. The appeared from nowhere, encompassing the room within seconds. Once they were gone, so were my souls.
All 99 of them.
In there place now where lanterns. They floated in exact locations where there had once been a person. Or at least the remembrance of a person. I stared on at this site, suddenly feeling robbed. It was only then, that the feline who had accompanied me in my many conquest, finally spoke:
“It wasn't supposed to happen. You dying. There was a flaw in there design. In ancient China, the symbol of a lantern burning bright through the darkness was meant to welcome lost souls. You've captured all ninety nine.
All those that participated in breaking the original plan of life, thus causing your death."
I smiled. Yes. This was what I had wanted. Revenge.
Life.
The triumph however, was short lived. Pain shot through me, causing me to double over in an effort to stay on my feet. Falling in the in between- was much different than standing after all. Acid burned through my veins, causing me to dig my nails into flesh. I shouldn't have felt pain. Pain meant I was alive.
Was I?
It didn't matter. The pain continued, getting worse. The tearing of flesh filled the air. It was then I decided that burning wasn't the worst memory I had.
Once it all subsided, and I stood- I knew all to well what had happened. Without a mirror, I knew without a doubt about the wings that had grown outwards. The feathers were still bloody, streaking down my back and onto the floor.
"We aren't offering you a new life. We're simply giving you the right to consume it”
- To be continued??? -
(Not really)
Sirenwolf
Also look at her BLOG!
Friday, January 21, 2011
Coffee vs. Tea
I fight a losing battle, it seems. It is an ancient struggle that takes no prisoners and everyone fights it. It is the Coffee vs. Tea War. Today I have found an opponent on the Tea side. He is my old friend and I call him Retsam.
Me: Where are you from and why do you like tea?
Retsam: I'm from London, England. I prefer tea because of the delicious taste, the fact that coffee makes me ill, and tea is healthy for you!
Me: Don’t you feel that you are biased because you are from ‘Tea Country’?
Retsam: Not at all! We're a very multi-drink society! We have coffee outlets such as Starbucks and Costa Coffee here, amongst other brands.
Me: But are they as successful as tea places?
Retsam: They're very, very successful. But people still buy tea from places like ASDA (the British version of Wal-Mart)
Me: Walmart, so good the British had to have a version of their own
Retsam: Yes. Well, Wal-Mart owns ASDA, you see.
Me: If, say, Sarah Palin were to promote coffee, would you switch your position?
Retsam: That depends. If she were to promote frappachinos from Starbucks, I'd be there like a shot!
Me: Let me write that down in my battle planbook.
Retsam: Very well.
Me: So what makes frappachinos different from regular coffee for you?
Retsam: They're iced and tasty. And they don't make me feel ill in the way that regular coffee does.
Me: So you are a staunch Tea Supporter, besides going to the Coffee Side for Frappachinos?
Retsam: Yes. I am very definitely a Tea Supporter!
Me: What made you become a Tea Supporter? Was it the scones?
Retsam: Yes! I was brought up on Tea from a very early age.
Me: So you admit to being brain washed.
Retsam: Yes.
Me: Did Kreia or Palin brainwash you?
Retsam: Both did.
Me: What did they bribe you with?
Retsam: Cookies, chocolate, and powah!
Me: What if I offered you cookies, chocolate, and powah to be a Coffee Supporter?
Retsam: Hmm. Interesting.
Me: I will wrap up this interview now and we can discuss my last offer later. Any last words?
Retsam: I love my Tea! You're officially invited to a Tea Party too!
Thank you again, Retsam, for allowing me to interview you! Though I might not take you up your offer...
Me: Where are you from and why do you like tea?
Retsam: I'm from London, England. I prefer tea because of the delicious taste, the fact that coffee makes me ill, and tea is healthy for you!
Me: Don’t you feel that you are biased because you are from ‘Tea Country’?
Retsam: Not at all! We're a very multi-drink society! We have coffee outlets such as Starbucks and Costa Coffee here, amongst other brands.
Me: But are they as successful as tea places?
Retsam: They're very, very successful. But people still buy tea from places like ASDA (the British version of Wal-Mart)
Me: Walmart, so good the British had to have a version of their own
Retsam: Yes. Well, Wal-Mart owns ASDA, you see.
Me: If, say, Sarah Palin were to promote coffee, would you switch your position?
Retsam: That depends. If she were to promote frappachinos from Starbucks, I'd be there like a shot!
Me: Let me write that down in my battle planbook.
Retsam: Very well.
Me: So what makes frappachinos different from regular coffee for you?
Retsam: They're iced and tasty. And they don't make me feel ill in the way that regular coffee does.
Me: So you are a staunch Tea Supporter, besides going to the Coffee Side for Frappachinos?
Retsam: Yes. I am very definitely a Tea Supporter!
Me: What made you become a Tea Supporter? Was it the scones?
Retsam: Yes! I was brought up on Tea from a very early age.
Me: So you admit to being brain washed.
Retsam: Yes.
Me: Did Kreia or Palin brainwash you?
Retsam: Both did.
Me: What did they bribe you with?
Retsam: Cookies, chocolate, and powah!
Me: What if I offered you cookies, chocolate, and powah to be a Coffee Supporter?
Retsam: Hmm. Interesting.
Me: I will wrap up this interview now and we can discuss my last offer later. Any last words?
Retsam: I love my Tea! You're officially invited to a Tea Party too!
Thank you again, Retsam, for allowing me to interview you! Though I might not take you up your offer...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
First Person POV
I am one of the few, the proud, the people who can write in the first person point of view. I don't know what it is with me, but I'm the opposite of most people. You see, most writers (non-professional) seem to not be able to comprehend writing in the first person POV (Point Of View).
One person says it seems like you're roleplaying. That is actually one of the reasons I like writing in the First Person POV. I get to be in the action. Does this mean I always write my main character as this super powered person. Nope. One story I wrote I managed to have a helpless woman (don't worry, I've written other stories with a strong female character) in her nightgown fight off a vampire-like creature.
It also seems like first person is childish to some people. I don't know why a POV, any, would have to be childish. I can understand not liking it, but I don't write to a child audience. And some famous writers (H.P.Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe, to name a few) wrote in the First Person POV.
I think a downside of First Person POV is the fact that if you don't have a good/interesting main character people will want to murder your main character. If you have a bad/uninteresting main character the reader will probably be cursing your name. I've read some books/stories where the main character is bad (Wanderer from The Host by Stephenie Meyer) and others where the main character is good (Harry Dresden from The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher).
I feel like First Person POV doesn't get enough love. It's as though, when I'm writing, that I'm practicing something that has gone out of style a long time ago. If you don't like the First Person POV really look at it. It has its ups and down.
Why don't I write in Third Person POV? It just gives me too many options. First Person POV allows me to focus.
One person says it seems like you're roleplaying. That is actually one of the reasons I like writing in the First Person POV. I get to be in the action. Does this mean I always write my main character as this super powered person. Nope. One story I wrote I managed to have a helpless woman (don't worry, I've written other stories with a strong female character) in her nightgown fight off a vampire-like creature.
It also seems like first person is childish to some people. I don't know why a POV, any, would have to be childish. I can understand not liking it, but I don't write to a child audience. And some famous writers (H.P.Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe, to name a few) wrote in the First Person POV.
I think a downside of First Person POV is the fact that if you don't have a good/interesting main character people will want to murder your main character. If you have a bad/uninteresting main character the reader will probably be cursing your name. I've read some books/stories where the main character is bad (Wanderer from The Host by Stephenie Meyer) and others where the main character is good (Harry Dresden from The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher).
I feel like First Person POV doesn't get enough love. It's as though, when I'm writing, that I'm practicing something that has gone out of style a long time ago. If you don't like the First Person POV really look at it. It has its ups and down.
Why don't I write in Third Person POV? It just gives me too many options. First Person POV allows me to focus.
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