HOUSE SPIDERS ARE NOT YOUR ENEMY (Experimental text)

This is a fictitious manifesto. In creating this, I tried to bring myself to feel passionate and also visualise a spider writing the text. My intention leaned more towards hyperbolic and ‘over-the-top’ humour, while also speaking my true beliefs and feelings towards the text’s subject matter. 

I was first influenced by the Vorticist’s manifesto (in BLAST!), specifically in the more visceral, excessive and radical tone and style. I thought this made way for adding humour to my text. I was also influenced  by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s On the Abolition of the English Department, particularly in terms of structure. I wanted the text to be easy to read and straightforward in this respect.

(Another note: You'll notice I say "Earth's 'West'". I say that because I'm pretty sure there are other places where spiders aren't THAT stigmatised, and I've grown up mostly in suburban Australia where, yes, there is a good chunk of people who are squeemish about spiders. I dunno, haha.)

1. The current reputation that house spiders have in the cultures of Earth’s ‘West’ is flawed
• These common arachnidian Earthlings, found dwelling in the homes of human beings, face an unfortunately great amount stigmatisation
• A single spider is too often wished, by a human being, to plummet into as many circles of hell as the number of legs on its body, 
• Or be crushed and flattened by a force a million more times than it is capable of counting
• Spiders do not deserve such a cruel reputation
• The main point:
  These house spiders are terribly misunderstood

Big Building (Experimental Text)

This narrative was inspired by a book quote (Cixin Liu’s The Dark Forest). The only relation that quote has to this text was from its comparison between humans and ants’ different experiences. 

My main goal was to create imagery that’s difficult to imagine and concepts that seem impossible to exist. I tried achieving this by combining sensory adjectives with senses that they’re incompatible with, and writing concepts/ideas that may prompt the readers to think about things that humans can’t experience or know. 

This short narrative was more explorative of human experiences and limitations, and focused on emotion/thoughts rather than action. I tended to add a lot of repetition to emphasise these ideas. 

“The ant climbed out of the basin and up onto the formation’s peak, but it felt no sense of towering above its surroundings because it had no fear of falling. [...] Without the fear of heights, there can be no appreciation for the beauty of high places.”

From The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu (2008)

The building of sandstone reached for the stars and stretched to the horizon
And the traveling woman did not want to go inside.
The desert was relentless. The sun scorched. The traveller sought refuge.
With no other choice, her tired legs walked timidly in the building’s direction.

A ‘Quick Brown Fox’ Story (Experimental text)

I limited myself to have every word follow alphabetically, with no repetitions until the alphabet looped again. With this, I sacrificed grammatical correctness, the correct uses of words and character naming, to create coherence. Finding words for the letters ‘Q’, and ‘V’ onwards was tricky, particularly ‘X’, where, due to its lack of common English words, I resorted to using words beginning with ‘ex’. Some of my uses of apostrophes were downright incorrect, and sometimes I invented words, ensuring that they still ‘felt’ like they fit into English. 

The narrative explores the point of view of a burnt cabin and its relationship to the humans that once used it. I thought the fragmented sentences suit the point of view of the cabin character.

A burning cabin doesn’t ever forget. Gone, house’s image. Jealously kindled. Living mourns nobody’s oaken planks. Quietly resents sapiens, those ungrateful vermin, who ‘xcessively yearn ziggurats.

Drabble: Purpose

Written from a prompt: Frame the absence of something

When does a building know its purpose?

Does it know from the moment its foundation is built? Does it see its blueprints, or is it one with the minds of those who invented its concept? 

Perhaps, a building waits until its completion. Then, does it only know its purpose the moment its last brick has been fixed into place; when its roof is fit to shield its precious interiors? Or, is it not until those strange little people make use of the space that it holds, does the building only discover that purpose?

There was a tower that dominated a small island, located nowhere in the vast ocean. If it could think, it would have been asking these questions for as long as it could remember. See, while its top marked halfway between the ground and the clouds, it had been left  behind – left unfinished by those who created it.