“I refuse to continue this mockery of literature.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Dad passed this on to me. I found it quite entertaining, and I think you will, too.

*********************************************************************************************

Here’s a prime example of “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” offered
by an English professor from the University of Colorado for an actual class
assignment:

The professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new
forum called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair
off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short
story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to
me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another
paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me.
The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.
Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the
story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails
and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail.. The story is
over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:
Rebecca/Bill

THE STORY:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him
too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the
question.

(second paragraph by Bill )

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now
in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the
neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had
spent one sweaty night over a  year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,”
he said into his transgalactic communicator. ” Polar orbit established. No
sign
of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish particle
beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo
bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and
across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one
last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever
had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law
Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper

one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared
out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed
unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to
distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things
around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she
pondered wistfully.

( Bill )

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left
Earth
a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to
destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty
the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower
to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly
initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the
atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine
headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam , felt the
inconceivably massive explosion,  which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

( Bill )

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose
attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. ” Oh, shall I
have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F–KING TEA??? Oh
no, what am I to do? I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many
Danielle Steele novels!”

(Rebecca)

A$$h@le.

( Bill )

B*tch!

(Rebecca)

F*** YOU – YOU NEANDERTHAL!!

( Bill )

In your dreams, Ho. Go drink some tea.
(TEACHER)

A+ – I really liked this one

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7 thoughts on ““I refuse to continue this mockery of literature.”

  1. Bwaaa haaa haaa! Nothing has changed since 2 August 2011. At least humans are consistent. We are the perfect study for scientists because all of our worse traits are repeatable. The whole piece was entertaining right down to the teacher’s comment. Considering they sat next to each other in class, I’m thinking some spatial adjustments were in order for Bill and Rebecca otherwise, there might have been injuries to Bill’s dangling participles.

    • Ha, it was great reading this post again. Bill best protect himself if he wants any more sweaty nights. I’ve actually done this very writing exercise with another blogger before, only we were much more compatible. Even Jackson mentioned he was doing this now with a gal who lives in another state. I hope they don’t virtually kill one another.

      • Haaahahaaaha! I have respect for people that successfully write together. I’ve tried it a few times and one needs to have a big bowl of flexibility before giving that a twirl. One line of Hyperion’s attitude and suddenly the room is empty. It probably isn’t Hyperion as much as those pesky amorous dragons he keeps around. 😏

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