An excerpt.

  1. black magick hustla
    black magick hustla - 11th August 2008, 09:28
    Basically i am writing a novel about a wacky christian-millenarian-anarchist cult who is assembling an underground militia to subvert completely civilization and bring humanity to a new age of innoncence, where there is no knowledge of good and evil and everybody is just a bunch of adams and eves eating and fucking. there are two "parties" that the book follow, one from the leader and his organization's point of view, and the other from a grousp of alienated young adults. This whole mess and impending apocalypse has something to do with a mysterious object that fell from the sky and caused an earthquake (and nobody noticed the earthquake nor the dark sky at noon nor the object falling except these two parties) and a mad physicist who tries to become god by turning his body into electromagnetic waves (E=mc^2) but is shot dead before he was able to achieve it. Anyway, a lot of characters are a vessel of my deepest reflections - so yeah. Its a pretty weird work because I am a little fucked up in the head. Also i sometimes throw in math and physics references because math and physics are badasss.


    So here is an excerpt. The context is that Joshua, the organization's leader, succesfully subverted an presidential ceremony when organization's members infiltrated the band that was going to play the national anthem and the impostors played a crazy bebop tune instead.

    ------

    Mr. President is above in the podium, and the audience cheers and claps and someone yells “I Love you!” The sun emerging from the fat clouds like a messenger of some ancient, long-dead civilization baptizes the silhouette of the President with the divinity of of god among men. Joshua is among the the claps claps and he grins with a heretical smile, knowing that he is about to defile a man-god.

    The ceremony comes off as a huge mismash of hopes and dreams. A pulsating sea of men, women, children and trans-gendered wobbles and waves and the sun crowns their angel-heads with sweat and they look up at the political altar, praying for bread and health. Children with big blackberry eyes look up at the fantastic visage of the president, and with the bravado of someone who knows no embarrassment they ask “Daddy, is he like a king?”. The parents just nod and smile, knowing that power-dynamics are too complex to be digested into child-lingo.

    A whole caravan follows the President – all sort of politico cultsmen and rhetorical acolytes making a living out of the naive faith of men: A long woman recites exquisitely executed sentences - the secretary type, with her red coat and elegant skirt and a valuable silver-tongue ... “Here is Mr. President!” she says to the anxious crowd, and then there are two men in black, high and broad as oak trees, with guns concealed – any threat, no matter how petty, would meet with a healthy dosage of lead...


    A fat women hyper-ventilates watching the president she voted for. She stretches her neck and gawks hocus pocus slogans, “Yes we can!” she cries, and and then waves her arms above madly and jumps like a junkie in a binge of speed. The fat face of the president, with a long mad grin and pearl-white teeth is printed on the woman's t-shirt and follows the perimeter of her fat rolls.

    “You don't seem very enthusiastic,” the fat woman says to Joshua.

    “Oh believe me dear, I am really excited – and in a few minutes i'll even be ecstatic.”

    Joshua starts counting. “...but first, we shall sing the national anthem!” the President says and smiles, and then Joshua watches with exaltation how the ears of patriots twist at the declaration.

    The musical band is summoned from the nether world and marches with bombastic charisma – military shakos protrude from their heads as a testament to 19th century warcraft, and trumpets pump out air columns, and the beautiful saxophones reflect the audience's excited faces. A very young trumpeter smiles and trembles with joy. “What a happy young lad! I bet it is an honor to play for the President,” Joshua thinks and smiles.
    One...
    Two...
    Three...

    Bam, baaam, baam, bam, bam.

    A flurry of mad notes take over the scene. The expected national anthem is discarded and is superseded for heavenly jazz ... blue notes, chromatic scales and a stream of spontaneous melodies ... the hips of the saxophonists oscillate and wriggle at the colorful music, and the drummers beat with rage and punishment, and nobody marches anymore – they just dance, dance, and dance. The band members throw their shakos and play bald and then they remove their gloves and drop them somewhere in oblivion and the band-members lie exposed to the fabulous cries of the audience. Nobody in the audience, except Joshua, knew that all the cats of the band are members of the Movement of the Free Spirit.

    “Go, on, go on. Oh Yeah!” Joshua cries with enthusiasm and runs towards the front and waves his arms and stares at the spectacle diligently. “Oh my – the first step towards total destruction!” he mutters and smiles like some terrible madman.

    “What in god's name!” the president yells and waves his hands full of fury. “What in god's name Maria!” she yells at the secretary, and the young band trumpeter laughs and he directs his trumpet at the President and improvises a few notes, and he cries “Go on, Mr. President, dance!” Mr. President's eyes pop and his teeth grinds and he looks for a moment truly insane.

    The audience flowers and explodes into a magnificent, colorful chaos. Those men that had high entropy in their guts dance and dance – raw youth and old men turning to youth. The most sophisticated of them dance swing and move their feet in careful synchronized steps like urban ballerinas and carve their own present-day roaring 20s through fantastic virtuosity. The rest of the entropic souls just squiggle and move and let their souls be driven away like rag-dolls thrown adrift by awe-inspiring musical sea-waves.
  2. Schrödinger's Cat - 11th August 2008, 10:20
    [FONT=Arial]I like your style. It works well with present tense, which I've played with before (but never mastered). It went fast, which isn't necessarily bad, but there were times when I had to reread the sentences. One in particular was the president yelling at her secretary. When you mentioned the president's gender in the previous statement it's a him, so that tossed me into a world of troubles. I would also try to simplify some phrases. You don't have to change around the style, but some lines border on purple prose.

    Sounds a little like Fight Club, too.

    [/FONT]
    Mr. President is above in the podium, and the audience cheers and claps and someone yells “I Love you!” The sun emerging from the fat clouds like a messenger of some ancient, long-dead civilization baptizes the silhouette of the President with the divinity of of god among men. Joshua is among the the claps claps and he grins with a heretical smile, knowing that he is about to defile a man-god.
    [FONT=Arial]
    You repeat a few words here, like "of," "the," and "claps." The second sentence is too complex, if you ask me. There should also be a comma after yells, just for clarification and grammatical purposes.

    [/FONT]
    The ceremony comes off as a huge mismash of hopes and dreams. A pulsating sea of men, women, children and trans-gendered wobbles and waves and the sun crowns their angel-heads with sweat and they look up at the political altar, praying for bread and health. Children with big blackberry eyes look up at the fantastic visage of the president, and with the bravado of someone who knows no embarrassment they ask “Daddy, is he like a king?”. The parents just nod and smile, knowing that power-dynamics are too complex to be digested into child-lingo.
    [FONT=Arial]You don't need a period after "Daddy, is he like a king?" Again, the second sentence confuses me. Is this going to be a pattern?

    [/FONT]
    A whole caravan follows the President – all sort of politico cultsmen and rhetorical acolytes making a living out of the naive faith of men:
    [FONT=Arial]sorts*, not sort. Usually after a full colon American publishers like HC expect the next sentence to not be capitalized, but I've seen it both ways.

    [/FONT]
    recites exquisitely executed sentences -
    [FONT=Arial]
    My brain struggles with this part. Imagine the poor sap who would have to read that on your audiobook.

    Hyperventilates doesn't use a dash. It's one word.

    [/FONT]
    “Oh believe me dear, I am really excited – and in a few minutes i'll even be ecstatic.”
    [FONT=Arial]Capitalize "I'll."

    [/FONT]
    Nobody in the audience, except Joshua, knew that all the cats of the band are members of the Movement of the Free Spirit.
    [FONT=Arial]You'll probably want to stick with "knows" instead of "knew."

    [/FONT]
    teeth grinds
    [FONT=Arial]grind*, not grinds.

    [/FONT]
    The most sophisticated of them dance swing and move their feet in careful synchronized steps l
    [FONT=Arial]Here there actually needs to be commas.

    [/FONT][FONT=Arial]I like your premise; it's very unique, that's for sure. There is a little too much "and," even for your style, and some of the images lost me.
    [/FONT][FONT=Arial]

    [/FONT]
  3. BurnTheOliveTree
    BurnTheOliveTree - 11th August 2008, 11:48
    I liked the piece - I will give you some criticism when I have a little more time.

    Those men that had high entropy in their guts dance and dance
    Awesome line.

    -Alex
  4. Random Precision - 11th August 2008, 17:26
    I really like this. I kind of balked at the physics and math references, but that's cool. The thread of holiness (man-god, angels-heads, etc.) was especially well done. I think if you continued it through the rest of the piece it would create a really good conflict with the jazz and whatnot.

    with the bravado of someone who knows no embarrassment they ask “Daddy, is he like a king?”. The parents just nod and smile, knowing that power-dynamics are too complex to be digested into child-lingo.
    But why is the president's position too complex for a child to understand? And I would just talk about his "position" or something instead of "power-dynamics", which to me doesn't seem to belong.

    A fat women hyper-ventilates watching the president she voted for. She stretches her neck and gawks hocus pocus slogans, “Yes we can!” she cries,
    Of course this is a good touch, adding a contemporary slogan, it makes the story seem much more immediate.

    and and then waves her arms above madly and jumps like a junkie in a binge of speed.
    But what does a "junkie in a binge of speed" jump like? It's true that I get hung up on metaphors, but I don't think you should use one when readers might not be familiar with the image.

    The musical band is summoned from the nether world and marches with bombastic charisma
    I don't think "the nether world" is that necessary here- for me it just made me stop and think, when the story should be flowing rather quickly now.

    – military shakos protrude from their heads as a testament to 19th century warcraft,
    I don't think the "testament" part is all that necessary, to be honest.

    and trumpets pump out air columns, and the beautiful saxophones reflect the audience's excited faces.
    Cut the word beautiful, it doesn't seem to be necessary if you're not describing them further.

    A very young trumpeter smiles and trembles with joy. “What a happy young lad! I bet it is an honor to play for the President,” Joshua thinks and smiles.
    "Happy young lad"? Where does this guy come from, 19th century Scotland?

    The fat face of the president, with a long mad grin and pearl-white teeth is printed on the woman's t-shirt and follows the perimeter of her fat rolls.
    You should move this in its place, when you're talking about the fat woman. It just kind of threw me off.

    One...
    Two...
    Three...

    Bam, baaam, baam, bam, bam.
    I'm not sure what the "bams" refer to. Are they the drums then?

    The expected national anthem is discarded and is superseded for heavenly jazz ... blue notes, chromatic scales and a stream of spontaneous melodies ... the hips of the saxophonists oscillate and wriggle at the colorful music, and the drummers beat with rage and punishment, and nobody marches anymore – they just dance, dance, and dance.
    I think you should get rid of the ellipses. They slow down the story where it should be moving quickly. I really like the description of the music though.

    The band members throw their shakos and play bald and then they remove their gloves and drop them somewhere in oblivion
    Probably cut "somewhere in oblivion", it sounds a bit pretentious.

    and the band-members lie exposed to the fabulous cries of the audience.
    Sounds like they're targets in a shooting gallery or something.

    Nobody in the audience, except Joshua, knew that all the cats of the band are members of the Movement of the Free Spirit.
    "Cats" sounds too sixties-ish. I would just write "all of the band" or something like that.

    “Go, on, go on. Oh Yeah!” Joshua cries with enthusiasm and runs towards the front and waves his arms and stares at the spectacle diligently.
    This seems to contradict itself a bit. I think either he should be waving his arms (getting into the spectacle) or staring at the spectacle diligently (detaching himself from it).

    “Oh my – the first step towards total destruction!” he mutters and smiles like some terrible madman.
    What does a terrible madman smile like? (I know, again with the metaphors).

    I'll finish this up later- but you've got a really good piece here, you just need to tighten it up and deal with the metaphors.
  5. black magick hustla
    black magick hustla - 11th August 2008, 21:16
    Thanks for the comments.

    Some of the criticism is spot on, but I also want to say that there is a stylistical reason for the lack of punctuation and the ands. I think it makes it faster in people's heads and I think most people perceive things like that (as a bunch of ands). I am somewhat writing in stream of consciousness.

    There are writers that use a lot of polysintetons (the use of ands is called like that). Cormac Mccarthy is one of them, and he is alive, and he is one of my favorite authors.