The Head of the Laboratory was an arch-bastard. His name was Regis. As his name suggests, he thought he was King of the Roost. He ruled the laboratory technicians with an iron fist. They hated him, but the laboratory had such an extraordinary reputation that everyone under the sun wanted to work there.
This was the laboratory that pioneered taking bones of long dead creatures, especially humans, putting them together, and bringing them to life. This might sound ridiculous but it is four hundred years ahead of where you, Dear Creative Writing Class, are currently sitting in your backward and immovable mind set.
Regis decreed that his bones should be reassembled and infused with life. He was not particularly enamoured with the thought of getting old, so he did himself in, and he left specific instructions that he was to be immediately reassembled.
I know what you’re thinking, Dear Creative Writing Class. You’re thinking that the laboratory technicians refused to put him back together. You would be wrong. Perhaps you’re thinking that the laboratory technicians muddled his bones up with those of a crocodile or something. You would be wrong. Perhaps they put his legs on backwards. You would be wrong.
No! What happened was this:
What a great writing prompt, teacher. Too bad my tuition assistance got cancelled and I can’t afford the class anymore. That means, I’m afraid, I won’t be able to complete the assignment. It sounds like fun though.
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I’ll give you a pass anyway!
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I did it. I hope I do pass.
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Sorry. I hadn’t hit “publish” when I left this comment.
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Lolz.
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I was never great with creative writing, really. In that very exam that went wrong, the worst part was the criticism of a Pessoa poem that was essentially a creative interpretation of the poem.
I’m an uncreative person. Concomitantly, if you’re attentive, you’ll notice most poets coming out of the U.S. nowadays have largely the same associative and creative aspects, largely due to creative writing professors. How you teach creativity transcends me, which is likely why I can’t be creative for the life of me.
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I don’t think you’re an uncreative pessoa at all! BUT in New Zealand there’s this guru who teaches a creative writing course at one of the universities. For the past 20 years or so everyone published or famous has done his course. The rest of us just grunt around like a blind rooting pig hoping to stumble across a truffle. It pisses me off. Everything comes out the same. This guy is the guy who wrote “The Whale Rider” if you’ve ever heard of it. They made a movie out of it so he’s famous. But the reality anyway, João-Maria, is that you’re too bloody-minded to be put down by these uncreative teachers (as your comment shows). I know for a fact that my plays were ignored because I was in the wrong profession (which you know about) and lived in the wrong town. Anyway, we can be creative in chains if we put a mind to it. I appreciate your comment. You’ve set a fire going.
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Hold on, wasn’t Whale Rider written by a woman? And I swear I didn’t Wikipedia this. I quite liked the film and back then I researched quite a bit regarding its production. I thought the director had written it, and the director is a woman.
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Witi Ihimaera is the author. He’s a New Zealand Maori and has the same bits as us! The name of Witi may have puzzled you. The director of the film was Niki Caro who spells her name so it looks relevant and trendy and she’s a woman. I’ve never seen the movie.
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Well, I’m happy that they are all creative individuals!
If I directed a film, it’d likely come out as some Jodorowskyesque thing, or an evern cheaper copy of Valerie and her Week of Wonders.
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Ah – I’ve just realized that the film script was written by the director but the novel was written by Witi Ihimaera. It’s a bit like saying that Pride and Prejudice was written by Joe Wright the director.
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Wait, you’re telling me Joe Wright *didn’t* write Pride and Prejudice?
Who wrote it then? Melissa Sottomayor?
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Ha ha! Google is going to ban me for googling too much! I’ll have to start using Bing. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to say that I’m a huge fan of Scarlatti who taught the Queen of Spain who was Portuguese and she was no slug when it came to the keyboard. I spend half my life playing on the piano pieces written for a Portuguese. So I feel an affinity. I have long looked at pictures of Portugal and dreamt. I had the opportunity in Christmas 1986 of spending Christmas either in Portugal or Bavaria. I went to Bavaria because they had snow!
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You made a mistake.
You made a grave mistake.
Sausages over Iberia, Bruce. How very dare you.
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Well if you’d been around then I might’ve been swayed!
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In 1986 I was still basking in my previous life as an angelfish in the Amazon Basin.
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That was you? Oh God how embarrassing.
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The almighty colon. Scary.
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Some find the colon handier than others.
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Some say it’s good for shit.
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Ha ha lolZ. That’s crap.
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Haha.
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They put him back together perfectly normal…he rose up and was still a bastard but within a month he was burned to ashes in a lab fire set by his co-workers. There was no putting him back together. “Here lies the ashes of The Bastard.”
Sorry Bruce I’m a day late for class.
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Yes – I don’t mark papers handed in late. You’ll have to do the course again – for the 4th time.
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This must be public school.
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Do they have a choice?
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Nope! lol
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Yes, the NADA! Sometimes, absence of language captures the emotions best.
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But what has this got to do with NADA – The National Automobile Dealers Association?!
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You got more than a pass Herb. You passed with flying colors – including Blood Red!
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Well it can’t be very creative if every answer I come up with is already wrong!
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!!! I could think of an answer either!
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