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 Religion / Away With Words by anakadrian: 11:36am On Aug 13, 2017 |
Of the many things that one may choose to do with his time, it could be said that helping another person is the most noble; and indeed, the time which would be taken to do this endeavour could be said to be well spent. It should seem then, that the most noble acts are the most rewarding ones, although from experience, one may see that this is not often so. To make sure of this, therefore, one should first establish his intentions before setting out to help; for, with the sort of mistrust of motive which people possess for other people in these times; and, with these climes that are rife with feelings of entitlement, even gratitude for favours rendered is not a guarantee. With this in mind, it should not be seen as unfair to reason that people should do good only when it is convenient for them. But somehow, inside us, we know that this should not be true. At a point, if you are any kind of decent in your manner of thinking, the selfish individualism which is the world today should sicken you; where everyone is so connected, yet so far away. Friendships are made solely for gain, and people are objectified; reduced to instruments for providing momentary pleasure, like pressing “play” on a music deck, or a grabbing a bag of chips when you are peckish. One may safely say that the “connection”of today’s world is merely a means to keep a tab on the progress of your “friends”, and see how well you are doing in comparison, and then, if perceived lacking, up the ante. So how best do we help people, and yet, doing so still cost us nothing? Talk is cheap; dirt cheap. So it should be with our words, then. We can say words that go very far, and we can write words that uplift; that move people to new patterns of thought. We do not have to write all the time about sadness or gloom, or of poverty or disaster. These are constant realities in our world. We are constantly surrounded by pain and hardship. We write about it, and then we feel content that we have “created awareness”, but that is usually where we stop, and so in actual fact, end up doing nothing. In writing about the things around us, we merely act as observers. In writing about the things within us, however, we become thinkers. It is thinkers that move the world forward; in good ways, or bad. We do not have to say or write what is popular in order to remain relevant; we should write what is important to remain so. What is important to you? You have the gift of free speech, so write it. Sadly, others have this gift as well, so write some more about what you believe, and run the race of influencing the people’s minds to see who gets to the finish line first. It is said, “you cannot change the world”, but then, one does not have to. A man can change the way he thinks. He can influence the way in which others do so, as well. Since it is people that the world is made up of, the world is just a collection of minds; some seeking to influence, others fighting against being influenced, and most others without a clue. Now, this is the beauty of literature that science cannot even hope to comprehend, let alone achieve; how a motley composition of verbs, nominals and conjunctions can, say, bring a grown person to tears, or elevate an entire generation to a different level of thought. But enough with the philosophy, the world is what it is. We want to read and be entertained; heck, we don’t even want to read. We just want to be entertained, and it doesn’t make us bad. Some days we just want to vent. Some days we just want to groove. Some days, after the reggae, we just want to play the blues. So, let all our bitches have real hair, and chill with their tops down screaming like; “aeiyoo!” Since we have the money, we are going to spend it like its going out of fashion. Enough with the falsehood of humility, and let us break the mould we have so carefully cast ourselves in; revel, live, rave, and ignore all the good things we hear as they are said; running through our head, running though our head, and tell ourselves that this is not enough. We are on fire, and we are all mixed up, but we say it doesn’t make us out of our minds. We are balling like we are high on hoops. We party till we drop, and then tomorrow we do it all over again. Reality hits, and sometimes we believe, at the times when we should know. All the while, our story has been written on the walls. I’ve been a bloody lyric thief for the last ten lines or so. Stealing can be a fine art! It’s only when you’re caught that it becomes a crime. After some time, when we find that we have deceived ourselves enough that we do not care about people or things in general, because we are so “independent” or perhaps just “in control of our emotions” and are “just bosses like that”; after we have championed the mantra of “it's my life, so nobody can tell me what to do”, we begin to realise that we strive for perfection in the silliest of things. Yes, regardless of how long we may run away from it, we shall all have a time when we are finally forced to look beyond the daily distractions of our lives, our flurry of hobbies, our activism; political or otherwise, our campaigns and awareness creation, our follows, our tweets, our hashtags and our likes, our jobs – or our lack of jobs, as the case may be – and there we find, just… Ourselves. Nothing else but ourselves. Our minds; plain, single and simple; subtracted from what we may want to imagine that others would have us become, in order to be considered accomplished people. I have often been told that what I write might not be “trending”, but that I write it well. Well, whatever is worth doing is worth doing well; even the seemingly mundane things that we decide to pass our time with. Goodness is foolishness. Kindness is weakness. Principle is being old-fashioned. So, you do not need to reflect on your inner self, because that is not hip, and morality is not a trending topic. But we can deceive ourselves that we are happy, and we can pursue an escape through luxury cars, expensive wines, and frequent sex with random strangers. It doesn’t matter at the end, because we will all be gone. So we chase after shadows and illusions of things. We are hedonistic and we have no apologies for it. A person should not misrepresent what values he truly believes in, just because of a wish to fit in with the crowd or be accepted; or a wish to please people who have no right to such power as you have given them to wield over your life, in influencing your decisions. So, basically: harm no one, and then, live your life! That about sums up what I have to say. Men are not tools. Women are not utilities. Children are not a means to an end. So, away with words, and let us have a new gospel. The gospel of how we live our lives. In writing, we often speak so much about “show, don’t tell”. As a person who writes is a writer (whether good or bad), why should that not extend to the way of life of the writer himself? _____ Copyright by @anakadrian. This property is not for sale. Beware my son, Anak Jnr. |
| Religion / Re: Can Atheist Explain Miracles To Me by anakadrian: 1:59am On Jun 13, 2017 |
@OP Here's what you can do... Get a plain sheet of paper and then draw two stick figures sitting at a table, with an empty plate between them. Now draw a speech bubble and make one stick figure tell the other one that there's a guy drawing them right at that moment (i.e. you), and that he'd draw some food into existence for them on the next page. Make the other stick figure be like "WTF you talking about? Niccur you tripping!". Then on the next page draw a third stick figure and have him come in with a bucket of fried chicken, and politely request the previous two figures to join him. Have the first stickman shout "MIRACLE" and sing praises to your name, while the other rolls his eyes in derision, and mutters "coincidence" under his breath. Now with that done, you can then.... Bro, I guess by now you get the point I'm trying to make, lol. |
| Literature / Re: The Devil's Reaping Fork by anakadrian: 1:29am On Jan 13, 2017 |
Okay... Your space bar and enter keys need to be pressed more often  That said, the transition from internal thoughts to real life action was too sudden... like... "I am the chosen one, my people need me, they hate the two headed spirit of the evil forest, I've been trained since birth to defeat him and then we started fighting at the weekend so I defeated him and the five other ones that jumped out of the surrounding bush to attack us while we fought..." (re: the Ona and guard scene) Hope you get my drift. Pause. Pace. Narrate. Show. Build some backstory, a bit of info about the world of Makunga that isn't directly dependent on the next scene to come, so that your narrations don't come off as... "This is happening, its happening, its really happening... and oh, yeah by the way that happened too..." lol. Following. |
| Literature / Re: WRONG NUMBER By Toyin Taiwo by anakadrian: 1:08am On Jan 13, 2017 |
The story is good. The storyline, fairly common. The moral behind it is laudable. The telling is fast paced; in the typical mass audience-directed fashion. Quick timeline, rapid slew of events. Keeps the interest going high but the downside is it trades off the literary finesse, making it a bit pedestrian in some aspects. A couple of minor tense and grammatical errors that could be ruled down to typos. The aim is achieved, the audience is thrilled and this remains a compelling story to follow. Well done... And happy birthday  3 Likes |
| Literature / Re: The Devil's Reaping Fork by anakadrian: 7:30pm On Jan 12, 2017 |
Nice story idea, and the telling isn't bad, but it comes off a bit rushed. The post is all kinds of clumped. You should like to give a bit more spacing in the structure, more paragraphs and employ better punctuation use. Makes reading easier. Yeah, you want to get the exciting story all out at once 'cos you've written it and want to share it with the world, but you should give a few breathers with the updates. |
| Literature / Re: New Writer Alert!! by anakadrian: 7:12pm On Jan 12, 2017 |
The tenses are all over the place. Quite distracting. Story lacked flow. Sometimes felt like it was a report being given. Many not particularly necessary descriptions included. This is not your best work. |
| Religion / You'll Be Fine by anakadrian: 11:27pm On Dec 28, 2016 |
By now you want a mellow voice to listen to; a perspective that is akin to yours, but somehow, strangely, at the same time against it – unobtrusively though; and in a non-judgemental way – because at this point you are no longer sure of all that you have come over the course of your life to believe to be true. But we are not that voice, and for that we are sorry. We can make no such promise other than we will remain here with you if you like, so we can find that voice together. By now you are tired of praying and listening and not hearing anything, and being told that you do not have enough faith. Or that faith is a gift, or a decision, or both, or that you have no choice but to decide that you have to freely choose to accept what you have exactly little or no experience or understanding of. And if you want, we can imagine you are out on a visit, and then a friend comes and knocks on your door. He is bound to get no answer from within, no matter how earnestly or persistently he knocks. He can break the door down, even. But he will not see you, because you are not around. There is a barrier between him and meeting you. So with this we may like to assume that there is now a barrier between you and the event of an experience of him. These might be our barriers now: rationalisation, logic, excessive thought, fear, hopelessness, depression, suffering, economic hardships, emotional disturbances; perhaps in the form of such a person in your congregation who you care for, but have not an inkling of a familial kind of love towards, but are forced to hover around them, only able to discuss bland inconsequentials and trivialities because you have been made to believe that any such kinds of feelings can only ever end in some evil. You agree that there is a proper time for everything, and that things will grow with time, but with a good question at the back of your mind concerning how a love is supposed to grow when there is no contact or interaction or discussion outside the context of your belief practice, or worse still that the person sees you as a source of temptation. By now you have defended what you believed in with great conviction. You have convinced others, even, and many look up to you; so you feel you must not disappoint them. If you are without any doubts in what you believe, then you are among the fortunate in the sense that you are single minded and sure, but you are at the same time unfortunate because you may tend to be closed-minded and unaccommodating to another view that comes not because of a tussle for ego, or to win an argument or prove you wrong, but simply to know; having been stifled by a belief which gives no room for questioning, nothing but blind acceptance. And then you are hindered in your capacity to show such a person love. We cannot understand everything. But there are things we do not understand and yet we believe in, because constant experience has made us used to them, such as the miracle of two cells’ fusion leading to conception and birth; or the witchcraft behind the miscellaneous technologies that drive the workings of mobile phones, computers and television. By now because we have not experienced so much of what we have been taught to believe in, we have come of age to question it; and sadly we mostly do not follow the same logic of “we do not understand, but yet we believe in it”. So now we say you should just believe and put yourself out of the misery of knowing… Or not knowing and wanting to, either way. There are many questions who no one will deign to answer and there are many others for which there are no known answers at all. So that love should be our practice, and love should be our faith; where we do good by other people not for some ulterior motive; of drawing them closer to believe what we believe, or because of some eternal reward. |
| Literature / Writers Wanted by anakadrian: 10:50am On Dec 11, 2016 |
| Literature / Women Only by anakadrian: 10:12am On Nov 18, 2016 |
“…I just want a God-fearing man…” ***Spoiler alert** this is not a sermon, sorry. For deep religious perspective, maybe I will do that in some other article. ***Safety alert** to the men reading this (but then I can’t understand why, I mean, just take a look at the title) …the wrath of some ladies is about to be incurred. You are strongly advised to proceed to place empty pot over head as detailed in diagram 1 of the included leaflet on precautionary measures, and to hold the pot cover in the fashion illustrated there. —————– After extensive and in-depth field research within its expected natural habitat, our scientists have made some salient findings concerning the “god-fearing man” (…well, the version of such a man most girls have in their minds, anyway) It isn’t that he is scarce, or that you haven’t searched properly or prayed well enough. And it’s certainly not that he doesn’t like women, or that he is always in the church and does not want to be found. It is just one simple, constant fact. The man does not exist. Our scientists shall explain: “…I just want a God-fearing man…” is all well and good for a woman to say, when that is what she actually wants. But then, she would also have to ask herself this question “Would a God-fearing man want me?” Now, back to our findings… Ladies, what some of you really want is a “god-fearing man” who can also eat you up expertly and slay you with the stamina of a h-o-rn y p** n-star juiced on sildenafil. I don’t think the Holy Spirit inspires men that way… but I’ll ask next Sunday just to make sure. Now, consider a scenario where a man is holding together his household as reasonably as this messed up economy of ours permits. He has his shit together and he does his family responsibilities as he should. Every other thing is fine except for one oft repeated statement “…he doesn’t satisfy me sexually…” —– ****Disclaimer** We have no personal experience in the collation of that sort of data Doro boss… Hmmm… Doro skillful… Ehen! More importantly, our research fellows have heard it said on many different online fora by many other people, so they know of what they speak. —– But hold on. First of all consider that the man in question is in no way impotent, and that after the day’s exhaustion of doing his work diligently as a God-fearing man should; promptly, without avoiding it and without cutting corners, he still returns home early. Note that here I said “home”, not mama Nkechi’s beer parlour that is just down the street and around the corner, close-by. He returns home to give you some sweet-sweet loving as best a healthy man can, but his efforts – which should be seen as no way sloppy to someone without a gene for nymphomania – begin to fall flat to your expectations of wild, tantric and acrobatic sex. “…He doesn’t care enough to go down on me…” ****Personal advice** I think you should consider that at least he doesn’t care enough to go down on other women! Now hold on. This is only for people who are married. I once saw a seventeen year old holding a placard saying something like “AIDS free generation… Without condoms, no sex… Be wise enough to condomise…” blah blah That boy is supposed to be at home watching Naruto or gaming his playstation, not thinking about sex without condoms. Now don’t get me wrong. It is very well known that at that age, youths’ brains are steeped in the soup of hormones and unrealistic ideas about love propagated by the media, trashy novels, and misguided friends. As my Anambrarian friend would put it “…Hormones ejero akwukwo. Ha amaro ife…” (hormones didn’t go to school, they don’t know anything). What youths of that age need is a sense of purpose. Anything constructive that takes a huge chunk of their leisure time, be it extra reading to acheive higher grades at school and get more swag for that… or something as simple as beating a new game’s high score. Not least of all, the ever important need for the guidance from their parents. If all these are done, perhaps there would be fewer of the broken hearts reconcilable with prematurely broken hymens, and respite from porn, frequent masturbation and from embarassing erections that occur at random. But I digress… The results of our findings have led our team to believe that this is what most women who say “I just want a God-fearing man…” actually mean: “…I just want a player whose attentions would remain solely with me…” But that doesn’t even make sense, now does it? The player, as opposed to the “God-fearing man” in its natural habitat, has in the course of his life acquired “a very special set of skills” which make him the player that he is. He will look for you… He will find you… And he will *hold your hand* you. He will *hold your hand* you, reeeeeal good. Now, some women actually expect a player to forsake all his other missions and then focus solely on their own objective when they get married. But how can you reasonably expect him to eschew the characteristics that make him who he is, which was what endeared you to him in the first place? Wait. Let me ask Ifa… But if by any fat chance the player does change, and he’s no longer the swarthy, sex oozing demi-god you had grown to lust after, sorry… love, that is when anybody who cares to listen would begin to hear things like “…We’ve simply lost our spark…” In response to this, Socrates made this erudite comment in 659 BC “Taa! …Spark, faya!” *mtscheww* —– ****Caveat** As for unmarried adults who have full responsibility for themselves, it is our firm belief that preaching is a waste of time. Anyone who has an issue with that could always comment below. People who pay their own bills should be able to live their lives however they wish. We shall speak more on that later… —– Our researchers also encountered a randomly occurring variable which came up enough times to make them consider factoring it in “…You men are heartless…” Says the recently dumped woman who against better judgement remained with said player specimen for his extensive narrow point immersion explorations, where after frequent occasions of passage, “narrow” has become highly debatable. In all, from this research, our analysts have drawn the conclusion that women are the creators of the player specimen. It can be scientifically proven… Now consider a body at rest, having negligible momentum to approach said woman mentioned in the above section because according her: “…You’re such a great guy. Every girl needs a guy like you… Smart, caring, intelligent. The girl who finds you will be so lucky…” ***Observation** You yourself, you don’t want to be lucky abi? Now naturally, the guy’s mind would be something of the nature of “…WTF?! …I’M A GUY LIKE ME..!” This will soon become the past though; some identifiable time when he had thought that being a gentleman would get him the girl he had only the noblest of intentions for. “You’re going after the wrong girl” someone might have told him. He wouldn’t listen. Following the same pattern, after three or so similar speeches, girl after girl puts said guy on a long thing. Guy swears revenge on all women. Said guy blocks the next chic and sweet-talks her into a dark corner for “Aru aja” so fast that he wonders what he had been doing wrong all that time prior. He feels her clawing all over him, dragging him and licking his… erm… eyeballs… His eyeballs, yes. ****Comment** “Aru aja” could be connotatively said by my friends in the East to mean “the back to the wall” It is not a noble art. Now, the previously momentum-absent body feels all good inside. He feels a kind of power which had been to him up until that moment, only described. A power that he never believed he could exploit because he believed he could never use it, or be a jerk to a woman simply for the fun of it. Said guy leads same woman on a jolly ride until he has sucked enough life-juice from her and then decides to assign himself to a new mission… Which of course brings us to: “…You men are heartless…” Q.E.D ——— The next day’s morning paper headline would probably read like this: HORROR!!! WOMAN, (age), CHEWS OFF MAN’S …ERM… EYEBALL. YES, EYEBALL… REMANDED IN POLICE CUSTODY WOMAN: “I love him…” MAN: “Yeeeeh!” RELATIVES: “It’s the work of the devil” DEVIL: “…Na today?” —- ***Conclusion** So, my people… Enjoy your lives! Get drunk, smoke, orgy, conceive, abort, have a line of cocaine that’s as long as the River Niger… “…It’s my life..!” Steal, murder, kidnap, extort, propagate hateful agenda in the name of any religion you deem fit. “…Who go fit stop us..?” But in all this, just make sure you are ready to bear the full consequences of your actions ALONE, and not have a backup plan to come running to a purported foolishly all merciful, and easily deceived christian God when you realise that your life is upside down and that with your own hands you have been the sole architect of your doom. “…The truth will set you free. But first it will make you miserable…” What I am saying in essence is that there should be sincerity in all things, especially sincerity to oneself, gender irrespective. No matter how much we try to deceive ourselves, we all know what is right. Seek the truth, live the truth, be who you are and have no apologies for it. In your journey through this life, you’re the only thing you can’t leave behind. |
| Literature / How The Witches Follow You From The Village by anakadrian: 10:40am On Nov 14, 2016 |
The title says it all, folks. ***This has the purview of, but is not limited to, familiar spirits, karishikas, mammy and pappy waters, (with other loyal subjects of the marine kingdom), annoying neighbours, oga’s wife/husband, mother-in-laws, haters, frenemies, stalkers and famzers, gold-digging boyfriends/girlfriends, as well as the sour-faced old man/woman who lives at the end of your street. (Yes, that one.) ***This does not, however, include those blood sucking demons in the form of shady politicians, police who mount illegal road blocks, endtime test/exam questions from endtime lecturers, as well as touts and other good for nothing layabouts who follow you around at computer village, Ikeja. (Buyer beware.) ______ ______ “…Go forth! For ours is with the spirit of courage, and not fear. Step with sure foot, strike with firm and steady hand, and put your enemies to shame, ONCE AND FOR ALL..!” Those were the words of advice that echoed in my head as I viciously stomped upon, and murdered a cockroach in cold blood. (Or cold lymph… beetle juice… pap… Well, whatever it is cockroaches bleed.) Do not be alarmed. For, verily, I say unto you: It has been revealed to me that this is but one of the ways by which the witches from the village come. A good retelling of a witch encounter is never complete without some bed-ridden man with bandages all over his body, as he tries to re-enact “the story of my life”. As for the story, it normally has stages. The first scene usually opens up somewhere in the village; inside a forest with dense bush, with about four or five old women seated around in a circle, dressed in black (…or red, depending on whatever’s sexy that year). The calabash there in their middle goes without saying (the witches get thirsty sometimes), and the pot of boiling water without a fire underneath it, is their pièce de résistance, because with proper network configuration, Access Point (finger)Nail, and Demon Name Server, they are able to view you and everything you’re about, WHEREVER you are in the world; in crystal-clear, OLED screen-like, Ultra-High Definition; via Miracast with Wireless Fidelity. (a/b/g or n ***amebo, bigmouth, gbegborun and nosy-parker, respectively***) Okay, well, that’s for the “Behind” witches who can afford the upgrade. Most others just prefer to stick to the conventional, “blow powder in the air, then call out your name slowly three times” data bundle package. Now, the manner of the winches’ surveillance depends on the urgency with which they want to hex you. (***No, people, “winch” wasn’t a typo. It’s Naijaspeak. Get with the program***). Devoid of any pressure of constraints in time, the winches are supremely content to merely watch you, day and night; waiting for you to stumble, so that when you fail, they can begin to snigger up their sleeves as they drink palm wine and dance shoki. But immediately they see that your “star is about to shine”, you may soon find yourself sleep-eating a variety of unsolicited delicacies, or perhaps having immensely gratifying romps with some lithe figure or other. In the cases of utmost urgency, the witches pull a classic “willie willie”. This is where you may find yourself transported from your warm, cosy, drummer-boy air-freshened bedroom, past an eerie winding path and a turning gate, straight into the midst of a dark coven; lying atop a bed, hands on your chest and unable to move, with a sour-faced bunch of dagger-wielding hommies lurking about, all of them with no chill button, spoiled for blood. Or you may find yourself in a place that looks very much like that picture “auntie” drew for you on the board, once upon a time, during religion class in primary three; to give you and your terrified friends an idea of what hell-fire looks like. The only difference here is that the demons are wearing snapbacks, and poking the condemned souls with selfie-sticks, while forcing them to dance to Sean Paul’s “We be burning”, which would be playing somewhere in the background. Calm down, people. Hold it with the sprinkling, casting, binding, and laminating, and don’t send down thunder just yet. You must have had some form of witchie-allegiance with them before they can successfully pull off a stunt like that. I’m not talking about the “Vesmatos insindia” softie kind of voodoo sh*t you see on Vampire Diaries, no. I’m talking about your, “magical protection/bulletproof to run for a political office”, sort of parole… or the good old, “sold my soul to the devil for a shot of fame, fortune and chics” kind of set up; also known as Yahoo plus. But then, if you’ve been having the supernatural 5-course buffet, full-optioned, all expense paid (for now) bed-and-breakfast with no prior allegiance, and have so far successfully been able to dodge their advances, I salute you. It means you are a badt guy/girl. Chineke di involved. But do not take a break, because the winches do not rest; and their oga at the top is like a rolling lion looking for a someone to collide with. The witches will begin to employ diverse tactics, such as causing PHCN to take off the light when you wake up at 11:30 pm on a Sunday night to do an assignment that has to be submitted the next day, or by making your rice to burn on the stove where you forgot it to go and watch Superstory. Also, I advise that if you see a phone call flashing on your screen with a number ending in 0001666, do not pick it, or else you will disappear! The fact that no one has seen anyone it has happened to directly, confirms the truth of this news. Therefore, there is also no need for you to wonder how it is that the story gets around, seeing that any possible witnesses are the very ones who keep disappearing. Absolutely no need. So then, having failed to remotely deactivate your success from a secure location, or to metaphysically bring the mountain (you) to Mohammed; the witches shall, as a last resort, adopt various shapes, forms and sizes to bring the battle direct to you. This should conveniently explain the scenario of that friend whom you owe money running into you when you’re at the dasukih, sorry, when you’re at the ATM; withdrawing your last 1000 naira which you intend to use to survive until the weekend… Or that second cousin from out of town who just happens to stop by your place on the exact same day as when you finally convinced the lady you’ve been wooing for marriage for the past five months to come for a short visit. In the same vein, the witches may manifest as cockroaches, snails, bats, cats, rats, or any of the entities mentioned in the notice above. It is said that whenever you crush their disguised physical forms, they begin to complain to the people around them (wherever they are on their own side of the world) of being burnt by fire. This is the scene where everyone then begins to clap and sing praises, as the winch confesses that she is the one who sent the rats that ate your WAEC certificate. Witches. They’re everywhere! _____ |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 7:22pm On Dec 29, 2014 |
whitemosquito: Not wanting to "ruffle someone's feathers" simply means not wanting to irritate, stress or annoy the person. Back and forth? Nope. We're done here. |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 3:36pm On Dec 29, 2014 |
whitemosquito: Well... whatever you say ma'am. By the way, "ruffling someone's feathers" is merely an expression. |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 2:32pm On Dec 29, 2014 |
whitemosquito: Okay, first of all... chill. I'm not here to ruffle your feathers, I promise. Now, we're still saying the same thing. You wrote "...instead of copying others, I knew what to avoid and present an original and unique piece.. both in terms of minority tribe and theme(comic, humour etc)..." My point exactly. P.s ... I didn't participate in the minority contest |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 10:28am On Dec 29, 2014 |
whitemosquito: Chai. Now this chic has done and made me feel guilty. Alright let me just say this: I was only finicky about posting live on the challenge thread because, basically its a competition and it makes for a level playing field when entries are submitted in a way that will not give advantage to one contestant at another's expense. If every participant could read the other's work, they could always glean ideas from, or counter the weaknesses of (structural, or otherwise) the previous posted entries, to buttress theirs; especially those participants who submit later on. As well, a participant might him/herself go back to reread his entry, have a change mind and edit it over and over again. That's quite a chore. I don't know if its just me, but I have the problem of always revising my work before I finally submit. To now have the option to edit even after submitting, for me, would be pure torture. Finally, I meant I was indifferent to your pasting the monickers with the articles when you do so on the challenge thread and lock it. I have no probs with the rules. I registered on nairaland yesterday solely 'cos of this. |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 2:46am On Dec 29, 2014 |
whitemosquito: Great, sounds like a plan. Now there'll be no "borrowing" of ideas. I'm indifferent to the attachment of our monickers, though. |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 11:04pm On Dec 28, 2014 |
whitemosquito: hahahaha... Please oh abeg, i'm still a bloody learner. Now what I actually meant was, yes I've written it... Saw the post on NS today and wrote the story today... But i'm hesitant to post it because you know, I don't want my ideas being used as "reference" if you know what I mean. |
| Literature / Re: About Whitey's Flash Fiction Challenge *comment Thread* by anakadrian: 9:49pm On Dec 28, 2014 |
Funny enough, what StealthIdeals says about waiting for others to submit is true. I'm in his boat. |
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