The Daily Post 11: “Climate Control”

 

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I’m actually doing one of these BEFORE midnight! Which means I might actually get it done and not fall asleep in a lump!

 

Have fun~

 


 

 

Title:

Prompt:

 

I definitely say that climate has some kind of effect on people’s moods. I mean, ba-dur. It doesn’t have to make any kind of consistent sense, though. Like how some people love hot summer days and I think that just outside of the window is the world slowly being baked to death beneath the unflinching fire of the sun. So to heck with that, time to completely steer myself away from this original point!

So I prefer to think about how weather can affect your thought processes and imaginations. Like how storms for me charge up something deeper and more brutally natural about the world. So, I’m further developing a philosophical trend of thought for a novel/novel pair of mine that involves the trinity of Machine, Sentience, and Nature and Nature certainly isn’t the way we like to think about it on our padded modern world. Nature, as we like to think of it now, can be easily corralled and persuaded to move or be removed so it can fit neatly into our little gardens or groves out behind our homes and other nice stuff like that. When in reality, if nature had its way, it would tear off our faces and wear them as trophies after sucking all the nutrients from our brains, of course. So when I see stuff like thunderstorms and droughts and snowstorms and hurricanes, I can’t help but be reminded just what the ruling of the world’s natural order is:

Humanity likes to think it’s at the top because of its creation of machines that allow it to survive the natural world. And yet, without that assistance, humanity would be consumed in an afternoon by a system that doesn’t care if it lives or die. Nature doesn’t care for art or culture or great legacies because it created all of those things in its earthy, pulsing womb. All that has been created or ever will be created is the product of the natural forces around us that provided all of the atoms and materials and the laws of physics and energy that makes every one of our human creations (from the material to the imaginative and existential). Again, when I see storms blasting bolts of sky-splitting energy or a rainstorm turning a desert into an ocean of flowers (Have you seen those Atacama Desert pictures? That’s what I’m talking about!), it makes me realize just how tiny we humans still are, even with all of our machines. Everything that we make seems to have an edge of disdain for it- disdain for the natural world that seeks to disempower and unmake us at every turn. I suppose that’s something that we humans can be thanked for, the feeling of scorn that drives us to pursue progress at an almost homicidal rate just to ensure that we aren’t subsumed by a force that can crack the freaking sky open with a flick of its finger.

I think I had an ultimate point I was going to try to get at with all of this but now I’m afraid I’ve lost it. Oh well, that’s part of the fun of doing these- the point arises from the process. It also helps that this is usually how I make my little diatribes. I usually just make noise and say things until I realize there was a point there all along that I just wasn’t able to see.

I suppose I could say here that it’s not just weather that affects our moods but our moods affect how weather appears in our eyes- from something to be afraid of or annoyed back to something from which all awe and self-reflection as a person and as a species springs.

If that was all a bit too high-brow of you, here’s a stupid thing I made up recently:

Being killed by Satan should now is called (by me and nobody else ever), “brimstoning.”

 

 

THE OTHERS

 


 

<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/climate-control/">Climate Control</a>

 

 

There was another dumb thing I made up that I wanted to add up there but then I forgot it. You’ll be spared, readers, this time.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

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Five Sentence Fiction: In Golf

 

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So I just went full-crazy with this one. I know that usually my five sentence fiction stuff is usually really charged with what I happen to be thinking in real life (I wonder if it has to do with the fact that I thinking in huge stream-of-consciousness and run-on-sentence ways when I’m just meandering around campus and life) so I figured I’ll just go full creative non-fiction this time because really, I wanted to make a full-on pun with this “engulf” prompt (I guess I feel compelled to always make some kind of pun out of the word prompt, oddly enough) and I have a lot of feelings about golf and golf courses.

 

 

Have fun~

 

 


 

 

Word of Inspiration: Engulf

Word Count: 201

Genre: Creative Non-Fiction

Title: In Golf

 

 

In golf, it is a crime that the little cart can’t be used for anything else but continuing the cycle of laziness inherent in the sport; you hardly even get any exercise. In golf, you have reign over such a huge course that eats up so much damn land that it gives a man and his dog a false hope that the neighborhood they moved to has ample park space. In golf, the players are more than content to let themselves rule over their little green kingdom, probably in willful ignorance of the fact that the game rules them. You know what, I’m stuck on this whole “taking up land for, of all things, golf,” point; it’s really distressing to see something called “Baker Park,” and to think, Wow, that sure looks nice, I’d love to walk my dog there, but then you notice the “golf course” underneath it in the goshdarn fine print. This is why you always need to check your local listings to know just what you’re getting into and how many worms are going to be in this can you’re about to open and will said worms borrow through your ears and into your brain at night?

 

 


 

 

As George Carlin once said, “PARDON ME, I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY.

 

Probably because I just got done watching BabaDook. It was good up until that one part. People who have seen it know what I mean. Suffice to say, I missed the last half hour or so.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

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