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Decoding

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A bizarre turn of events.  I stood in front of Visualassignments10.  Empty. Not a soul had dared.  Why? What was so uninviting?  Here is my tale.

We need to learn the value of stripping things down, removing the cruft, making more with less. Take a large body of text and reduce it continually until you’re left with something that still holds all its meaning but is much more succinct and approachable. Use this tool to make a visual representation of these edits: http://www.telescopictext.org/

“Yes!” I exclaimed.  I am unforgiving in my sinful wordiness.  So I ventured to telescopic with only mild confusion at my ultimate goal.  Visual representation?  Oh well, let’s carry on.

My aim was to cut down on a passage from Choke and see what strange results are produced.

What!?

Then I hit my first roadblock.  You are limited to a 140 characters.  And the program isn’t even about cutting down.  It’s about adding on.  And the method is as clear as can be, further considering that there aren’t too many intricacies to the program.  You change words or add onto them, shaping meaning to fit your own machinations.  You can join words mostly, but the program is a little edgy in that realm.

This is construction.  This isn’t cutting down.  What did Tim Owens mean?  There must be more.  While I applaud the simplicity of Tim Owens site, I was a little confused on where to go to find the post amidst all the admittedly great content that puts mine to shame (where do these people come from?).  And so I went to timmmmyboy.com/search and used the search tool to come up with the post “I made tea.”

Oh cruel fates.  A significant disconnect exists between the original post and the assignment.  What if? What if there was a tool that could cut down, not build up.  Well, the answer is there is a tool to build but not deconstruct.  Yet building such a tool like telescopictext.org is outside my league.  Where do I go?

What I didn’t tell you is that I’d already spent a significant time using the tool to construct my own story from a line in the song Blue Spotted Tail by Fleet Foxes, “Why is the earth moving round the sun?”.  I don’t have any easy answers, I’ll show you what happened.  My best response to this assignment in the future is this:

Go back to basics.  Take a paragraph and break it down on some giant graph paper.  Or, for the more advanced, make a toondoon.  Or a photo narrative.  I’m not all too sure, there are a lot of possibilities with this assignment.  The challenging part is there has to be documentation.  How did you get from big to small by documenting your downsizing of every single word with meticulous coldness?  And in such an elegant fashion as telescope displays in graph form?

That’s where I’m still a little lost.

For my story, I didn’t cut out.  I added meat and a lot of it in a teenage angsty reflection on my place in the world.  Out of character I’d admit.  The beauty of this tool is you don’t know where you’re going and it’s fun visiting new passages each time you run your story.  The way one story can unfold in so many different possibilities is brilliant.

Actually cut, the new assignment should simply be to use this tool and build your story.  Throw in a visualization somehow.  I plan to do so when I find a camera and some way to do represent this odd tale.

Here is how my unfolds

Why is the earth moving round the sun?

Why is my home moving round the sun?

Why is my home floating?

Why is my home, my solace floating?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a black sea of space?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a black, opulent sea of space?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, opulent sea of space?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, fragile sea of space?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, fragile sea of space, where little scintillas of light shine sofar away?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, fragile sea of space, where tiny scintillas of light shine sofar away?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, fragile sea of space, where tiny scintillas of hollow light shine so far away?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in a dark, fragile sea of space, where tiny scintillas of hollow light shine so, so far away?

Gliding gently round the sun?

A terrible nightmare.

A wretched nightmare.

A wretched state of being.

A wretched place of being.

A wretched place of being; suspended in a vacuum.

A wretched place of being; suspended in a dark vacuum.

Gliding gently round the sun?

Why can’t we just glide gently round the sun?

Not hurdled forward with no purpose.

Not tumbling forward with no purpose.

Not tumbling blindly along with no purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind along with no purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and careless with no purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with no purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along without a purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a greater purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a friendly purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a peasant’s purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a frightened purpose.

Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a frightened fate.

Please.

Please, take me back.

Please, lay me down.

Please, pull me down.

Please, pull my home down.

Please, pull the earth down.

Please, pull the earth downward.

Please, pull the earth downward from the night sky.

Please, pull the earth downward away from the night sky.

Please, pull the earth downward away from the fragile sea.

Please, pull the earth downward away from the sun.

Who?

Who has the might?

Who left the lights on?

Who left my lights on?

Who abandoned my home?

Who abandoned my earth?

Who abandoned my home?

Why is my home, my solace, my sanity floating in adark, fragile sea of space, where tiny scintillas of hollowlight shine so, so far away? A wretched place of being; suspended in a dark vacuum. Why can’t we just glide gently round the sun? Not tumbling foolishly blind and carelessly along with a frightened fate. Please, pull the earth downward away from the sun. Who has the might? Who abandoned my home?

Construction of a Story

 

 

Update:  So in my foolish skimming of I didn’t realize to publish and save your work you have to register.  After doing so, I realized there was no way I could save my first creation.

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