Twitterature: Parody

It should be stated that any sarcasm in these entries are in no way antagonism I feel towards Moby Dick.  I'm actually enjoying it.  Different voices just came to mind for different entries, so bear in mind that between the space of three entries, you might be reading three different voices.  Again, I'll just update to this post instead of making new ones.

Chapter 1: Loomings

 

Call me Ishmael.  I like the sea.  So I’m going whaling for the first time.  Ever.

 

Chapter 2: The Carpet Bag

 

My carpet bag is awesome.  It holds all my things.  Also, I’m staying at the Spouter.

 

Chapter 3: The Spouter Inn

 

No vacancies, so I slept with a Pagan cannibal.  He seems a good chap.  Better than putting up with idiot Christians.

 

Chapter 4: The Counterpane

 

A strange morning with Queequeg the cannibal.

 

Chapter 5: Breakfast

 

I ate a good breakfast.  The other patrons were around, too.

 

Chapter 6: The Street

 

I walked through the street.  Lots of strange people.  Queequeg, I suppose, is no longer as strange.

 

Chapter 7: The Chapel

 

Visited the Whalemen’s Chapel.  Surprised to see Queequeg.

 

Chapter 8: The Pulpit

 

It looks like a boat!

 

Chapter 9: The Sermon

 

Stop . . . talking . . .

 

Chapter 10: Bosom Friends

 

Queequeg and I are great friends now!  Also, I worshipped his idol with him!  Hooray for religious tolerance!

 

Chapter 11: Nightgown

 

Queequeg and I kept each other up . . . wink, wink.  No, just kidding, it wasn’t like that.  But we did keep each other up.

 

Chapter 12: Biographical

 

Queequeg told me about his history.  Cannibal king-to-be who won’t convert in a Christian society—party, anyone?

 

Chapter 13: Wheelbarrow

 

Took a ship to Nantucket.  Queequeg indulged upon the humorousness of cultural relativism.

 

Chapter 15: Chowder

 

It’s delicious!  Also, Queequeg, don’t kill yourself with your harpoon, so leave it downstairs.

 

Chapter 16: The Ship

 

Queequeg has a crackpot idol.  But I did find a good ship, though I haven’t met the blasted captain.

 

Chapter 17: Ramadan

 

Had a good laugh, thought Queequeg had killed himself, but he was only meditating.  Hilarious!  He didn’t seem to care and/or notice.

 

Chapter 18: His Mark

 

He may be illiterate, but Queequeg is a damn good artist.

 

Chapter 19: The Prophet

 

Biblical allusions galore!  Of course his name is Elijah!

 

Chapter 20: All Astir

 

Does anything ever happen on time?

 

Chapter 21: Going Aboard

 

Elijah again!  But anyway, the Pequod is finally leaving.

 

Chapter 22: Merry Christmas

 

Hah!  Leaving on Christmas!  What a present!

 

Chapter 23: The Lee Shore

 

Foreshadow!  Dooooooooom!

 

Chapter 24: The Advocate

 

Defense of whaling: it’s awesome.

 

Chapter 25: Postscript

 

See Chapter 24: The Advocate.  But add “seriously” before “awesome.”

 

Chapter 26: Knights and Squires

 

Starbuck is the first mate.

 

Chapter 27: Knights and Squires

 

Stubb=2^nd mate, Flask=3^rd mate.  Queequeg is Starbuck’s harpooner, an Indian named Tashtego is Stubb’s, and the black giant Daggoo is Flask’s.

 

Chapter 28: Ahab

 

Ahab looks like a mean mother effer.

 

Chapter 29: Enter Ahab; to him, Stubb

 

Bwaha, it’s a tragedy!  Do as you will, players, and Ahab, set the whip to insolent Stubb!

 

Chapter 30: The Pipe

 

The Norse god, Ahab, threw away a useless pipe.

 

Chapter 31: Queen Mab

 

Personally, Stubb should go with the rest of Mercutio—dreams are nothing, less constant than wind.

 

Chapter 33: The Specksynder

 

Look, guys, Ahab’s in charge.  Even when he’s not on board.  The layout of the ship, well, he doesn’t care.

 

Chapter 34: The Cabin Table

 

Ahab likes letting his mates know who’s in charge.  He eats with them, but does not speak to them.

 

Chapter 36: The Quarter Deck

 

Ah-ha!  I knew there was an ulterior motive somewhere.  Tragic heroes like Ahab don’t walk around without hidden meanings.

 

Chapter 37: Sunset

 

Ahab: Weeeee!  I’m MAD!  And the Dick will die!

 

Chapter 38: Dusk

 

Starbuck: Oooooo . . . he’s MAD!  And he will die!

 

Chapter 39: First Night Watch

 

Stubb: Aaaaaa . . . yeah, he’s mad.  But I’ll die laughing!  Ha, ha, ha, ha!

 

Chapter 40: Midnight, Forecastle

 

And . . . het, lkoko, a stoprn, wheres . . . heeey get the musoci, Dohjngh BOiy!

 

Chapter 41: Moby Dick

 

Yeah, sure, I hate good ol’ Moby, too.  The sailors speak of the legends they’ve heard.

 

Chapter 42: The Whiteness of the Whale

 

White’s an important color, Moby’s an important whale, it all fits together.

 

Chapter 46: Surmises

 

Ahab reflects on poor past decisions, and future ones.

 

Chapter 47: The Mat Maker

 

Something about free will, then we are resigned to the hunt, as we are soon upon the whales.

 

Chapter 48: The First Lowering

 

We split up to take the whales, and Starbuck, though a competent officer, screws up and almost kills us.  Way to go.

 

Chapter 49: The Hyena

 

Life’s just a big joke!  Ha, ha, let’s all share a laugh!  Since no one seems to be crying!

 

Chapter 50: Ahab’s Boat and Crew – Fedallah

 

Ahab’s got some new crew that he pulled out of thin air.  Me hearties don’t be liking it.

 

Chapter 51: The Spirit Spout

 

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Twitterature: Moby Dick

And this is why Twitterature will never work.  This is the one I did in earnest.  I'll just be updating this post in the future, instead of making new posts.

Chapter 1: Loomings

 

Call me Ishmael.  It is my belief that people are at some point drawn to the sea, so it is to there that I go.

 

Chapter 2: The Carpet Bag

 

I placed all my things in my carpet bag, and setting off to find a respectable inn, I came to one “Spouter Inn,” owned by a Peter Coffin.

 

Chapter 3: The Spouter Inn

 

No vacancies in the Spouter, so shared a bed with a Pagan cannibal.  Not as bad as it seemed, a sober cannibal better than a drunken Christian.

 

Chapter 4: The Counterpane

 

Woke up with Queequeg’s arm about me, and implored him to act more normal, to no real avail.

 

Chapter 5: Breakfast

 

At breakfast, I admired the patrons of the inn, Queequeg among them.

 

Chapter 6: The Street

 

The people in the streets can be as strange as Queequeg, so that my astonishment in his outlandishness soon evaporated.

 

Chapter 7: The Chapel

 

I visited the Whalemen’s Chapel that most whalers tend to first while they are on shore.  Also, surprised at seeing Queequeg.

 

Chapter 8: The Pulpit

 

The pulpit itself is clearly influenced by the chaplain’s sea voyages, as it has the resemblance of a boat.

 

Chapter 9: The Sermon

 

The chaplain gave a sermon, comparing Jonah’s sins to ours, and how when we repent, it should be a true repentance, not done in or from fear.

 

Chapter 10: A Bosom Friend

 

Queequeg and I became quite close, bosom friends as he called it; then took part in his idol worship, because it was the Christian thing to do.

 

Chapter 11: Nightgown

 

Queequeg and I spent some time together, smoking and whatnot, since neither of us could sleep.

 

Chapter 12: Biographical

 

A little bit of Queequeg’s history: son of a cannibal king, but he wanted to learn among the Christians, but he could never become one.

 

Chapter 13: Wheelbarrow

 

Took a boat to Nantucket, during which Queequeg, at first feared by the crew, proved himself able to be trusted, saved a man.

 

Chapter 15: Chowder

 

Stayed at an inn in Nantucket that served excellent chowder.  Also, the mistress would not allow weapons in the rooms.

 

Chapter 16: The Ship

 

Yojo told Queequeg I would pick the right ship, so I found the Pequod and met the owners, but not the captain.

 

Chapter 17: Ramadan

 

Queequeg worried me today—locked himself in the room with his harpoon!  I feared he killed himself!  But he did not, so all was good.

 

Chapter 18: His Mark

 

Queequeg signs his contract, and in place of his signature, he signs with a queer round figure that is on his arm.

 

Chapter 19: The Prophet

 

A man today tried to warn us of Ahab, or Old Thunder as he is called by some, but Queequeg and I would have none of it.

 

Chapter 20: All Astir

 

The craft threatened to leave sooner, but left later, and one of the owner’s sister was hard at work to make things well for us.

 

Chapter 21: Going Aboard

 

After being again accosted by Elijah, Queequeg and I board the ship, and learn that it does, indeed, leave shortly.

 

Chapter 22: Merry Christmas

 

We left on Christmas.  Peleg and Bildad came with us just to see it off, then returned to shore.  Still no Ahab.

 

Chapter 23: The Lee Shore

 

A chap I met at the inn, name by way of Bulkington, is on board the ship.  There are forebodings for all, even this giant.

 

Chapter 24: The Advocate

 

It is my belief that whaling is a necessity, and people view it as such without even realizing it.  Their arguments against it are hollow.

 

Chapter 25: Postscript

 

All I want to say is, think fast what your world would be like without whaling, before you pass judgment.

 

Chapter 26: Knights and Squires

 

The first mate is a stalwart man by the name of Starbuck.

 

Chapter 27: Knights and Squires

 

Stubb is second, Flask third.  Each of these officers chose a harpooner, Queequeg being Starbuck’s, Tashtego to Stubb, and Daggoo to Flask.

 

Chapter 28: Ahab

 

For the first several days, Ahab still did not appear, but when he did, I was grandly affected by his visage.

 

Chapter 29: Enter Ahab; to him, Stubb

 

Stubb stands up to Ahab for the captain calling him a dog, but relents under Ahab’s ferocious overbearingness.

 

Chapter 30: The Pipe

 

Ahab appears as though a Norse legend.  He throws away his pipe, as it no longer offers him condolence.

 

Chapter 31: Queen Mab

 

Stubb has a dream that seems to warn him of crossing Ahab, and he communicates this to Flask.

 

Chapter 33: The Specksynder

 

Ahab rises above the original intention of “man at sea,” and most likely, he does not care; the man is made of stronger stuff.

 

Chapter 34: The Cabin Table

 

Ahab allows the mates to dine with them, but he does not converse with them.  The harpooners also join them.

 

Chapter 36: The Quarter Deck

 

Ahab reveals his true intention for this cruise, to hunt the cursed White Whale himself, Moby Dick, for he took Ahab’s leg and pride.

 

Chapter 37: Sunset

 

Ahab: Like Satan, I am bound to this course.  As I was dismembered, so, too, shall my dismemberer be dismembered!

 

Chapter 38: Dusk

 

Starbuck: Ahab is a madman, but I can not but follow his lead.  But if there is a way to escape his fate, I shall take it.

 

Chapter 39: First Night Watch

 

Stubb: Well, Starbuck may be right, but what of it?  I’ll go laughing to my grave!

 

Chapter 40: Midnight, Forecastle

 

There is much drunken revelry amidst a storm, and the players are cast.

 

Chapter 41: Moby Dick

 

I, also, was caught up in Ahab’s vengeance, and his hatred was now mine.  The legends of Moby Dick are related.

 

Chapter 42: The Whiteness of the Whale

 

White itself is a color of mixed proportions, but often attributed to grandeur, and Moby himself is both god and devil due to it.

 

Chapter 46: Surmises

 

Ahab knows that must be careful with how he pursues this voyage and this whale, and he may have spoke of Moby too soon.

 

Chapter 47: The Mat Maker

 

Queequeg’s movements in mat making inspires thought on free will, but then whales are seen—“There she blows!”

 

Chapter 48: The First Lowering

 

We split into four boats to pursue the whales, and the one Starbuck captains, mine, capsized, and thoughts of doom plagued us ‘til our rescue.

 

Chapter 49: The Hyena

 

Sometimes, life seems as a joke out to plague you.  None of the others were worried in the least about our near demise.

 

Chapter 50: Ahab’s Boat and Crew – Fedallah

 

Ahab has certain members of the crew he kept silent and hidden until now, and the crew shares uneasiness towards these yellow-skinned persons.

 

Chapter 51: The Spirit Spout

 

At night, Fedallah keeps watch, and for several nights, there appears the spout of whale, but nothing there when we boat out to it.

Obituary of Ernest Frankenstein

I thought it was interesting that Ernest was the last surviving member of the family, and that his fate was never detailed, so I though it might be neat to fiddle around with what might have happened.  I know, I'm not a journalism writer, but that's alright.

Obituary:
Ernest Frankenstein

 Ernest Frankenstein, the only surviving member of the Frankenstein family, was found murdered this morning under mysterious circumstances. He was found by a friend, strangled to death, a strange tactic considering the deaths of several of his family members: Elizabeth Lavenza Frankenstein and William Frankenstein were both found with similar markings upon their throats. However, the authorities have determined that the murderer of Elizabeth and William was not the same as Ernest’s, as the bruises on Ernest’s throat were from a smaller hand. Under the circumstances, the case on William’s death has been re-opened.

 Friends reported that Ernest had been growing more distant ever since Mr. Robert Walton came forth with the news of the death of his older brother, Victor Frankenstein. Mr. Walton refuses to comment or speculate on the death of either brother. Unlike his brother, Victor seems to have died of natural causes.

 The death of Ernest Frankenstein is currently being investigated, in conjunction with Elizabeth Lavenza’s and the re-opening of William Frankenstein’s. If anyone has any information, please contact your local authorities as soon as possible.

There He Stands, Annotated

I'm primarily a fiction writer, but this poem was perfect for this assignment, as I'm sure that even today there would be people who would need it annotated to understand all the references.  Also, I apologize if the numbers aren't superscript, I couldn't figure out how to do it on here.

There he stands, my brother,
Borne from blood and battle,
Staring into fields doomed for slaughter
The moonlight accenting his blade and his bearing
He sees Death readying his pale horse
But my brother rides to battle, eagerly,
The Watcher’s1 glorious name on his lips.

There he falls, my brother,
Gone into glory and gore,
Staring into the fields of Valhalla2
The moonlight recalling his blood and his steel
He hears the cawing of Thought and Memory3
Now my brother rides to Asgard4, without regret,
The Allfather’s1 glorious name on his lips.

There he goes, my brother,
Borne into blood and battle
Staring into the eyes of the Valkyries5
The moonlight hailing his prowess and honor
He feels the tears of Yggdrasil6
And my brother will ride to Ragnarok7
The One-Eyed God’s1 glorious name on his lips.

1 Monikers of Odin
2 Fields where the honored fallen fight
3 The two ravens that sit on Odin’s shoulders
4 The home of the Norse gods
5 Warrior angels who choose the honored fallen that are privileged to go to Valhalla
6 The World Tree, that connects all nine of the Norse realms
7 The end of the world, in which the gods and the warriors of Valhalla shall fight Loki and the Frost Giants

Friday's Journal

Entry #1
 I was sad that we left my father behind—I didn’t have a proper goodbye, and after such a happy reunion!—but I will not desert Master. We go now to Portugal, upon this ship that is much bigger than any I have sailed on before. Master’s presence commands as much respect from the other white mans as I give him, it seems, but I have not been replaced as his most trusted follower, nor do I have reason to think I will be.

Entry #2
 The white mans’ tribe is so large! I think all my Nation could fit in a small part of this place. And other places we passed on the way here, too! These are such strange places. If not for Master, I would be completely lost, in any sense. This place is so intimidating, but Master cares for and looks out for me as much as and as easily as he did on the island. As long as I stay by him, I will be fine. But I cannot help but fear a little that he might yet abandon me in this place, where he is from, in pursuit of his old habits. And then truly I will be lost! I’m not sure, then, which fate would be worse: eaten at the hands of the rival tribe in the islands, or eaten by the immensity of the white mans’ tribe here.

Entry #3
 Ha, ha! I am back in my element now! Master decided to travel to England by land. Just yesterday, I showed him and the others how we kill bears where I am from! I promised them laughs and laugh they did.
 I think that any fear I had of Master deserting me was quite unfounded. We have met many wolves and bears on our trip so far, and I’ve demonstrated, I think, that I show more courage in facing these creatures than the others, for I have encountered them before. I believe that Master esteems my skill and my person above the others, for he doesn’t bother with me often in his confidence in my skill. And I, for my part, will never depart from Master, either.

Entry #4
 Master’s homeland is a beautiful sight to behold. I think if I ended my days here I would be pleased, but I am not so sure if Master sees it that way. Either way, as long as I travel with him or live with him I will be happy, so I do not think that it matters.
 He has seemed to have settled down more, as he has now has a wife and children (the children of which are great fun to play with!), but I believe I can start to see yearnings in him already to travel abroad again. I noticed that he also appeared more comfortable when we were travelling, so I can begin to see his wanderlust sparking again, however abated it may have been with the advent of a family. I think it will be good to go abroad, though, despite my earlier sentiments. I often wonder that if it does happen, if I will see my Nation again. I also wonder if I could ever be apart of my Nation again. My travels have certainly changed me, most notably that I no longer eat human meat and that I am a devout Christian, and I do not know how my Nation would take to this.
 But I think that these are idle thoughts and not worth dwelling on. I am happy where I am, and I believe that I will be happy for some time to come.

Writing like Robinson

This was an exercise that we had to take and try to rewrite it in the style of Robinson Crusoe:

My Bookshelves are lined with such Treasures that is pleased me greatly whenever I look'd upon them; empty Cans, from which I removed the labels long ago, so that I could better admire their ribb'd steel Skins and silvered Polish; Rings in plenty from our Trip to Mexico, back when I was still five; and, along with this real Jewelry, I had hung Pictures of other Jewelry, cut from Magazines and glued to Cardboard; one of the silver Spoons my Grandmother sent my parents, of which me Mother loath'd; and a Collection of Nickels, Dimes, and Quarters, each of which I carefully and painstakingly boil'd and polish'd.

That was where I stopped, because then I realized that Crusoe would go on for at least five pages in describing how he had been able to polish said coins.

First One?

I'm not really a blogger.  I just set this up for a class at Susquehanna.  It's called Forms of Writing: The Novel.  As you can probably tell by the title of the blog.