Advertising.

This week I have seen two advertisements that caught my attention. Both were accompanied by music that stirred me in very unusual ways. The first was an ad for pharmeseuticals that was played to the tune of Boston's More Than A Feeling. Somehow I'm not sure that was Boston's original intention for that particular tune. Now I am willing to let this slide, yes, this actually doesn't piss me off all that much. Advertising companies will rape pretty much anything for a buck, and I think that most of us can easily accept this fact. While I like More Than A Feeling, it doesn't hold enough meaning to me to really get me upset. That was until the next ad I saw.

While I'm not expert on music, I am a bit of an amatuer film buff, and so the second song went beyond the usual irritation. This time it was an insurance company, and it was accompanied by an odd little tune that took me a moment to recognize. The music was a tribal choir that was getting used for the purpose of making it seem that the insurance would add some level of serenity to your life. While I suppose I can trick myself into seeing what the advertisers where trying to achieve, I also couldn't help but recognize the music. The song was from Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line. The music was used in combination with footage of the Melanesian Islanders to juxtupose the horrific violence of the Pacific theatre of World War 2 and its modern combatants. Now I'm not going to act all elitist and say that films like this are sacred and above criticism, or emulation, but I can't help but find myself genuinely angry when music that so perfectly illustrated the futility of war would now be turned to such a pathetic, and meaningless cause.

I don't need to tell anybody of the parasitic, and ravenous nature of advertising, but sometimes I can't ignore it when it vandalizes something that changed my view on the nature of life, death, and violence. I won't get sanctimonious and ramble about imaginary communities that live in some sort of perfect harmony with nature (damned if I'm living without a toilet), point out the problems of modern societies, or try to convince you of the excellence of Malick's film. But what this film, and these voices represented was hope surrounded in monstrousness. My frustration exists because hope can only grow into reality with time and patience, while it can be hurt in an instant by greed. Had the advertisers stopped and considered the context of this music for a moment, then perhaps they would have realized the futility of their role in this world. My frustration is starting to thin now. Not from apathy, but from the irony that I am getting angry on behalf of a cause whose goal is to condemn hatred. Now I do feel silly.

"I have seen another world. Sometimes I think it was just my imagination."

Starship Troopers Review: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love to be Wrong.

In 1997 I saw a movie that tickled all of my primordial teenage senses, like the kind of senses that make every teenage boy think he can fight hordes of aliens in a spandex uniform. For its time Starship Troopers was a visual feast—with effects from Phil Tippet who gave us the Jurassic Park dinosaurs—and it was a gory sci-fi celebration of cartoonish violence, camaraderie, and a few cheeky snippets of nudity. What thirteen year old boy wouldn’t completely flip his lid in anticipation? Mothers would wrinkle their brows in disgust, censors would point fingers at violent video games, and all the while we happy teenage boys would watch again and again to relive its highlights. I’m twenty-six now, and it suffices to say that I, like many of you, have moved on from most of the irresponsible fantasies of my youth (except maybe for the occasional snippets part). So now I stand clutching a DVD case of this film with fifteen years of retrospect, two sequels, a cartoon series, and a copy of Robert E. Heinlein’s original book, and I find myself drawn to one conclusion: This movie outsmarted me. It outsmarted me, and it outsmarted the vast viewing majority. It outsmarted many of those critics that watched it just once, and even some of those who watched it twice. But what is really remarkable, and is possibly the film’s greatest quality, and greatest weakness is that somehow this film managed to outsmart itself.

So now I know that you think I’m crazy. Here we are talking about a movie that contains the line: “They sucked his brains out,” and I’m somehow supposed to convince you that this movie was too subtle for the mainstream audience, and even for a sizable part of the critical establishment that panned it for being either a big dumb blood fest, or for being a raving fascist’s wet dream. Even to this day I try to explain what an amazingly clever film this is to fellow writers, and find them looking at me like I’ve fallen out of a tree. So then, how is this big budget CGI showcase, and rightwing gunwank all that different to the modern schlockbusters of the Bay establishment? Well, when we take a moment to lay out all of the main features of ST, we find that the ingredients for a truly subversive piece of satire are actually quite obviously present. We first notice the combination of writer and renegade former-studio exec Ed Neumeier, and the legendary provocateur and sometimes filmmaker Paul Verhoeven. Given the joyous satirical romp that was Robocop—this pair’s previous venture—we should have all heard the claxons wailing, and the big red arrows directing us to the sign that says, “You are not meant to take this at face value”. Next we can take another look at the source material. The ST movie is quite famous for how greatly it diverges from the Heinlein novel, and in critical debates this has sometimes overshadowed the movie’s own qualities. Ever the topic of late night internet flame wars, and forum-based intellectual debate—with “your mum certainly thought so” being the typical clinching argument—the major differences between the film and book should have also be a sign that the we should not regard the film as a true adaptation of a book that is quite unambiguous in its militarist connotations.

Okay, so if it is actually a clever satire then what is this joke that we all apparently missed? To put it frankly, the joke here is that the movie was intentionally designed to make us root for a mindless swarm of violent monsters, and I’m not talking about the insects. As the film comes to its final moments we see our protagonist Johnny Rico has completed his development from a low scoring high school jock with no ambition, and no real grasp of the society he lives in, has evolved into a suicidally loyal soldier that honestly believes that his state’s cause is just, that his enemy is a grotesque and inferior life form, and that any one man can win the war. At this point the film kicks into its trademark newscast mode, blasts us with a bombastic score, and says “We need you, join up today!” This generally elicits a hooting cheer from the audience, myself included, and we all drain from the theatre filled with dreams of glory. As Paul Verhoeven says in the ST DVD commentary, “War makes fascists of us all”.

Okay, so to keep things clear, no, I did not just call you a Nazi. Much of the film’s critical backlash came in the form of critics that did recognize ST’s mock fascist connotations, or were unable to see them within the context of a satire. Perhaps the biggest reason for the film’s mixed reception is that it represents something that is very difficult for modern audiences and the critics to come to terms with. The film was purposely designed to be a complete reproduction of a war propaganda film, and to function in very much the same way. The film’s almost comical choice of perfect bodied, square jawed main actors, as well as its in-your face violence against a distant and dehumanized enemy, and its “one man can make the difference” theme make this film almost indistinguishable from the kind of wartime propaganda that dominated early twentieth century theatres. The film deliberately sets out to present the audience with a propaganda film about a future fascist society in a war against a far off and technologically inferior enemy, and despite all of our supposedly evolved sensibilities as a late twentieth century society—and now early twenty-first—the majority of the audience cheers, jumps onboard and say, “where do I sign up?” So jarring is this notion to most of the critics that watched this film during its theatre run that many were simply unable to see past the film’s outer layers of campy violence and fascist iconography. Such as the case of Synoptique.com film reviewer Owen Livermore who found himself “stunned and appalled” at the sight of audiences cheering a film he found so reminiscent of the 1934 German propaganda film Triumph of the Will.

So I guess now we find ourselves asking two questions, what is the point of such a filmmaking stunt, and how does this still affect us? Critical opinion of ST has shifted significantly over the past decade, and more critics are turning their heads to review this film retroactively. The previously mentioned Owen Livermore has reappraised the film, and recognized its satire, though he still questions its validity as a film that sets out to deceive its audience, and other film analysts, such as Robert Ager of collativelearning.com have completely changed stance altogether, regarding the film as a near-masterpiece of modern satire. So to address the question of what purpose the film serves, it is worth looking to the words of the creative team themselves. In the DVD commentary, Neumeier and Verhoeven call the film an attempt to warn the viewer of the seductive nature of fascism. In Ager’s analysis he points to a rather spooky coincidence regarding propaganda’s seductive qualities when he notes that the supposedly unprovoked bug meteor attack in the film sparks a massive propaganda driven outcry that leads to war against the bugs, which was designed to resemble the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour and the subsequent propaganda built around it. This contrasts quite shockingly to the terrorist attack of 9/11 that also led to an enormous increase in nationalist propaganda that left the majority of the population clamouring for revenge. He goes on to note that ST came out in 1997, which was a time when the Neo-Conservative movement was gaining ground in the US, and while the film didn’t literally predict 9/11, it certainly was a film that was aware of the new nationalist conservative mood in the US.  Now it is by no means the purpose of this analysis to dive into the politics of the current War on Terror, however, when one considers the raving rightwing nature of the original ST novel—described by Roger Ebert as a “right-wing sabre rattler”—the re-establishment of American hegemonic conservatism that was on the rise in 1997, and the provocateur natures of Neumeier and Verhoeven, it does occur to me that the “warning” that was supposedly the underlying message of this film was far more relevant than any of us might have predicted at the time.

Okay, so now that I’ve given this article its obligatory “9/11 analogy” let’s ask how this film continues to affect us today. I think I’ll start by talking about something that hits me a lot closer to home: video games. Stay with me on this. When I ask myself, “How does ST still affect me today?” I can’t help but look across modern media as a whole and notice that ST’s themes have lived on in endless video games aimed at teenagers, notably games where: noble, physically perfect specimens of manhood go out into the universe and slaughter inhuman beasties from beyond (for great justice). While video games have always copped a lot of heat over their violent content, and I have always stood up for their rights as a media form, I have started to see that not all is well in the world of video game gore. My attention was first grabbed by film analyst and pop culture expert “Movie Bob” Robert Chipman who noted that the popular Halo series of games portrayed its blank slate hero and his brand of soldier: the Spartan Trooper, as being genetically homogenous, emotionless killing machines, while the series villains represented a culturally diverse society with multiple races working in cooperation. He notes that the game’s attitude seems to revolve around the following theme: “Militaristic culture, visibly pretext on submission of individual-self to a quasi-fascist collective equals good, while multiple species working together to a common goal equals evil?” While the ST similarity is almost obnoxiously present within this science fiction context, the thing that isn’t present in Halo is irony. Halo and the majority of other mainstream game titles strive to capture the blood and guts crust of ST, and yet almost none of them seem to realize that ST does not set a societal template to follow, but to avoid. If this still seems a little distant, and like it has nothing to do with current events, then let’s try something a little more contemporary. The recent documentary Returning Fire examines the cross-platform blockbuster game series Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare, and its legion of pretenders, and clone games, and points to the way that they thrust the player into perfectly simulated war environments, modelled on video footage sent back from Iraq, and Afghanistan. These games, though entertaining, are visual simulations of war that invite us to become desensitized to the strange environments and new technologies of war, and even the notion of killing via remote control. If any of this sounds familiar, then I might direct your attention to various newsfeed scenes throughout ST, namely the one where Dougie Houser methodically explains the how to terminate an entrapped arachnid warrior in a live public service announcement. To put this in slightly less ambiguous terms: a high ranking military officer shoots a captive enemy soldier on live television, and we didn’t feel a thing. This newsreel goes on to show school children being taught to stamp on cockroaches for fun, and then the children are given an opportunity to familiarize themselves with an assault rifle and take home their own bullet so they can be comfortable with them. The games I mentioned are largely targeted at teens and young adult males, the exact demographic that cheered in 1934, and 1997 respectively.

As I come to the end of my train of thought, I am forced to regress to my original statement on this matter. I said that this film didn’t just outsmart the regular movie-goer, and manage to shock critics into disbelief, or even denial, I also said that it managed to outsmart itself. The film’s weak critical reception was not purely a result of its confronting subject matter, but also it was due to the creative team’s decision to hide its true meaning under a blockbuster exterior, and make no attempt to hand-hold audiences by drawing attention to the notion that war and fascism are bad things. Making such a statement without any attempt at subtlety would have made it impossible to connect to the book at all, and likely have made the film come across as sanctimonious and preachy. By remaining ambiguous the film strayed into the awkward zone between blockbuster military wank—what it is typically mistaken for—and a more direct criticism of militarism such as Dr Strangelove, all of which led to the film being largely misunderstood, and even derided upon its release. An amusing, and perhaps even poignant moment in the film comes when an accused murderer is tried, and convicted to death on the public newsfeed, with his execution scheduled as prime time entertainment later that night. This cameo by Ed Neumeier always manages to bring a smile to my face, as I watch poor Ed hangs his head in resignation as he accepts his inevitable execution by the media. Maybe he didn’t outsmart himself after all. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, but he just accepted the consequences. As Neumeier stated in a response to Mimi Brickmeyer’s 2003 article on ST, he believed that “Starship endures so successfully in its afterlife, finding a growing and loyal audience along with many re-appreciations by the critical community” and this is precisely because it did not treat us like fools that needed to be told what a terrible thing war is. Somehow, in not telling the truth, this film has actually succeeded in being more honest to its viewers. Watch it again sometime, and when the film asks you to join up, take a moment to think your answer through, because figuring things out for yourself is the only true freedom, make up your own mind. See you on the bounce trooper.

Have a peak at my major! Ooer, that sounds rude.

Evening Space Cadets, 

Well, aren't you up late? It's been a while since my last Blogger post, but I think you'll find that the wait is most certainly worth it. As a special treat I'm preparing the first draft of my major assessment for my creative non-fiction module, and I'm happy to say that I dropped the D&D travel log idea! Okay, it probably would have been a laugh. My attentions have now shifted to an analysis/review of one of my all time favourite movies ever: Starship Troopers. This is a film that has been dramatically misunderstood by much of the viewing public, and has only slowly gained the critical praise it deserves over the past decade. Don't believe me? A good place to start is here: http://www.collativelearning.com/Starship%20troopers%20analysis.html 

I'll be posting the first draft of my major tomorrow if I get permission from my tutor. It will cover Starship Trooper's themes, its lasting impact on popular culture, and my own personal musings on why I think everyone could do with watching it again sometime. Till tomorrow then.

Responsibility, and Property

An interesting question that often arrises whe discussing writing is that of property. When a particular book, or character becomes famous it is genrally recognized that the public fanbase begin to develop a certain emotional attachment to the world or characters therenin. This attachment often leads to the notion of public discourse, or the right of the fanbase to shape the events of a story, or the nature of its characters through their consent of published materiel, and their expectations that future materiel should meet their desired standards. So does this mean that the public has the right to dictate to authors what their stories should contain, or what their characters should do? Of course it sounds silly when one puts it in that context, as a living writer has every right to make their materiel follow whatever path that they desire, but let's look at it another way.

The great myths and legends that have lost their original authors, or passed into the public sphere of intellectual property (who really owns Herecles and Zues's face?), so these all exist now as public property, and their names, and histories are available to any author who'd like to use them. Yet, critical backlash over such poorly made films as Clash of The Titans 2010 show that the public still has very strong expectations of the handling of such properties, even if they have no owner. While I could take this concept into Star Wars territoriy, I think I'll bring it back to a purely text example, and so we now look at the example of Sherlock Holmes. The killing-off of Holmes by his creator led to such a fervent public outcry of property mismanagement (and subsequent boycotting of Doyles books) that Doyle would later resume the series with a new Holmes adventure that retconned, and resurrected Holmes. This does at the very least demonstrate that public discourse has a certain democratic effect that can force authors to behave responsibly, or face the scorn and mistrust of their public (see George Lucas). Similar examples can be found in the comic book industry, were modern day myths and legends have often been mishandled in both print and film, leading to constant retconns, reboots, and have refined the comic film industry to the point that Marvel has taken back its creative control from the irresponsible film studios, and led to their latest string of successes.

So what effect does public discourse really have on itellectual property? Well, I certainly would disagree if someone were to suggest that the public has the right to dictate terms to author, or that authors have no need to even consider the public's opinion when dealing with their own intellectual property, but I would agree with authors like Stuart Glover who said: "Public discourse can be a powerful agent in controlling others and in shaping knowledge. The public voice is one we conspire to privilege, sometimes forgetting to question its right to speak authoritatively." (18)

Stuart Glover, “The Disloyal Subject: The consequences of non-fiction in Zigzag Street.” Imago 10.2 (1998): 17–23

Off to Degobah

Tomorrow I will be flying to Sydney to commence my Jedi training with Microsoft. I say Jedi training, as it will be a brand promotion job, so I'll need to brush up on my techniques for influencing and persuading. By the end I hope to be able to simply wave my hand and say, "you don't need to see a mac, and droid is not the OS you're looking for." Don't fret, I'll post something a little more "writing oriented" soon.

Postcards from the forgotten realms.

This week saw the commencement of my first D&D adventure as the DM. My plan has been to use the campaign as a framing device for my upcoming creative non-fiction assignment at uni, and the events of the campaign, and the behavior of the travelers are currently proving to be excellent fodder for this experimental writing piece. So far the voyage to the fictional city of Genesia has proven problematic for our tourists, as bad company aboard their vessel has made the trip less than comfortable. Firstly a dispute between Kadrock the half-orc traveler and the ship's first mate resulted in an incident (more of a savage beating really) that saw the party distracted while the ship was being attacked by local ruffians. A mysteriously out of place lighthouse drew the ship from its course, and in the aftermath of the tempted piracy, and disagreement with Kadrock, the party is going to have to make their way to Genesia on foot. But first the group will investigate that mysterious lighthouse, a chore made easier with some help from a local who also was nice enough to beat Kadrock senseless, and otherwise put an end to his shenanigans for a while. This just about brings us up to date, so until the next game, enjoy yourself, be careful when travelling the oceans of your mind, and remember not to wander too far while role playing.

Slow Going

Apologies for the slow pace of updates of late. Assessments are beginning to rack up, and much of my attention is being drawn away from my precious readers. I am currently organizing the poetry that has been featured on this blog over the recent months into a portfolio, and making a few minor improvements. My next post will likely be before the week is out, and will take the form of a personal essay, which will also be submitted as university assessment. Stay close people, as I shall return to you shortly.

Poem for my brother.

Axe

Strung like a bow, and spiked like a club,

you’ll belt it and bash it, and shake the very walls.

Built for harmonics, but born for chaos,

you’ll use it to calm the soul, and to smash the status.

Your first was a present, given to tame your anger.

You tamed it, then burned it, and then gave it names.

Your first ones were lousy, loudly blasted bastards.

Your latest are fine tuned planned pokes at power.

Polished like a gemstone, and burnished like a blade,

you’ll slice and slash, and take another head from the hydra.

It’s blessed with a voice, one that barks like a daemon,

you’ll make it belch the truth, antagonize old arrogant few.

Your arsenal now includes your latest axe blade,

your earthquake machine to sunder the foundations,

your banshee wail to pierce the walls of the mind,

and your eyes possessed of hypnotic mind flaying fire.

Carved from living stone, and toothed with knives,

you’ll loose its natural fury, spike the screaming strings.

Gift from the old gods, match for your chaotic zeal,

you’ll honour this boon, and make known your name.

Tim Hunter

Absence

Absence

Please forgive my absence,

what I lack in attendance, I gain in presence.

Where my timing, and memory fail painfully,

my growth, and contentment flourish.

I stopped to watch the butcherbird,

as it chortled on my clothesline.

I was cut off in traffic by an office clerk,

whose schedule was off by a five whole minutes.

Please forgive my absence,

I forgot that it was your day today, but I’ll never forget you.

I forgot the brand of your shoes, and the name of your scent,

But not the texture of the hide, or the waft that you leave.

I had to remember author of a book,

and that Spanish word for helmet

I was told not to forget your other day,

or that one we shared, I’ll remember it soon.

Please forgive my absence,

for all that I lacked, and all that found and then lost.

But don’t forgive me the worst of my absence,

the one where we forgot to meet again.

Tim Hunter

Ghazal Poem

Hello to all,
so this week's poetry exercise is a Ghazal poem. I enjoyed this form, as it allowed for some mix of freedom, and convention (you'll see what I mean). Ghazals are a pretty neat format, so I highly recommend you look into them for yourself.

What Makes Him?

Is it a sense of honour, piety, and duty that makes a man?

Or maybe some form of righteous divinity that makes a man?

Maybe they’re born with blood of Achilles or Hercules,

But isn’t it quite bloody unlikely that’s what makes a man?

It could be his capacity to collect romantic conquests,

Maybe that’d cancel the majority for what makes a man?

I’ve got it, the secret is money, and power, and shiny stuff,

Not looking good is it, my journey to what makes a man?

All I have is the soul of a Hunter, patient, and accurate,

Won’t that do, tell me now quickly is what makes a man?




Tim Hunter

101

This is the first draft of my reflective assignment for my English grammar course. As a reflective assignment it's a more personal work, so don't be discouraged from reading:

As a final year undergraduate student, I have developed a writing style, and grammatical capability that have been sufficient to endure a number of difficult assessments. These assessments have tested many of my writing skills, including research, data collation, and synthesisation. However, one constant throughout this period has been my largely unprofessional grammar. While my level of grammar has certainly carried me through my university career, it has also caused the loss of a few marks here and there. The development of my grammatical capability was the result of an insufficient grammatical focus during earlier schooling, and a rapid learning process at university, involving a combination of self-teaching, and osmotic learning.

Reflecting on my earlier schooling I can recall brief, and ineffectual attempts at grammar lessons from my teachers. Adjectives are describing words; this was about the extent of the lesson. Adverbs were not really discussed in much depth. It sufficed to say that adjectives were the describing words, adverbs are the “ly” words, and verbs were the ones that had “s” where he, and she were concerned, and “ed” when it happened already. Public schooling wants you to know what to say, and how to function in society, but places little emphasis on why we speak the way we do. My subsequent years in adult tertiary preparation were spent trying to prepare me for university, and even there the emphasis was on style and content, and developing some basic ability to cite and source. Sometimes I would wonder if the teachers groaned at the sight of public school level grammar: a system they were forced to emulate, whether they wanted to or not.

The university world was a strange change of pace. Everything needed to be professional, and written to suit the formats of scholars, and wordsmiths of great stature. The first year is the most difficult. You will try to make your language flowery and expressive, and filled with adjectives stacked upon adverbs, stacked on qualifiers and interesting tangents. You wonder if starting a sentence with the word “and” is punishable with some form of incarceration, and using the dreaded perpendicular pronoun –it that must not be named- is so mighty an offence as to be worthy of immediate dismissal, and excommunication from scholarly society. The second year is generally spent slowly breaking down the misconceptions surrounding the rules of scholarly writing, and absorbing the style, content, and grammar of the many readings that each student must digest.

Now in my final year, I have developed my own style so that it will emulate the readings that help to constitute my assignments. And yet, the constant element that remains, nagging at my grades, is the less than worthy grammar. Through personal endeavours to improve my grammar, be it through commercially available grammar books or even learning the grammar of other languages, I have managed to learn what grammar is, and develop a desire to improve my own. This year will be spent learning the intricacies of English grammar, and improving my understanding of grammar, with emphasis on improving punctuation, sentence structure, and style. Each of these will require a combination of study, and frequent revision to ensure a synthesis of these concepts with my own personal writing attitude.

Thoughts My Creative Non-Fiction Assignment

So far I have been toying with various ideas for my CNF piece for this semester at uni. For those who are unfamiliar with the notion of Creative Non-Fiction, it is essentially writing that conveys factual events and concepts through a narrative form. Typical examples include Gonzo Journalism, Memoir, and Review. Going with the idea of 'writing what you know',  I am considering writing on the subject of escapism, and morality in gaming (both video, and role playing games). Hopefully I will have some time to interview a number of gamers, and take part in my own share of role play this semester, which should furnish me with additional experiences.

Latest Poetry Exercise

Scoundrel’s Commandments

Thou shall find fault in thyself and others,

Or else loose thy right to criticize

Thou shall find time to embarrass thy mothers,

Or for your birth, thou shall apologize

Thou shall make fun of stupidity, and bigotry,

Or in disregard, empower such hates

Thou shall suffer, then smash thy teacher’s rigidity,

Or thou shall grow to resent their learned traits

Thou shall blunder in where others tread lightly,

To defuse harmful secrets, and not be surprised

Thou shall be thought of charming, but also wily,

So as a friend, thou shall always be prized

Thou shall make thy japes private, and tasteful,

Gaudy humiliations thou should make not

Thou shall laugh with thy patsy, not at, not cruel,

Make legends of jokers, and jokees begot

Thou shall find time for thy parents and children,

Time for them thou shall always allot

Thou shall always remember, every time and again,

Truths are perspectives; thou shall not say thou shall not

Poetry Exercise

Hi all,
today I am working on a poetry exercise for uni. The style of poetry we're looking at today is list poetry, so I've put together a little something in the last hour or so, and I hope you enjoy:

Thou shall find fault in thyself and others,
or else lose all thy right to criticize.

Thou shall find time to embarrass thy mothers,
or else for your birth, you will apologize.

Thou shall make fun of stupidity, and bigotry,
or in disregard, empower such hates.

Thou shall ignore thy master's teaching rigidity,
unless thou wishes to resent his taught traits.

Thou shall welcome thy parents, and children,
to them, time thou shall always allot.

Though shall always remember, time 'n' again,
forbid naught, thou shall not say, "thou shall not".

Tim Hunter

The First Post

Hello to my friends, fellow students, and secret admirers alike. This is the first in what I hope will become a series of posts that will catalog my various writing projects, and university exercises. First I would like to share with all my latest reflective piece written for uni. The questions were: do I regard myself as a good writer, and am I regarded as a good writer by my readers?

Do I regard myself as a good writer? My experience with writing has for the most part been a positive one. My writing skills are the combination of my technical and creative abilities, and in these respects I grade myself very well as a writer, although I do not preclude the possibility of improvement. To the contrary, I have often felt that my technical skills represent a chaotic mixture of absorbed grammar, and style, which has been taken from many sources throughout my life. My lack of formal grammar training during earlier schooling has made university life somewhat difficult. What I have lacked in pure technical skill, I have often made up for in content. The comments I have often been most proud of receiving are those made in criticism of my writing, and so we come to the question of how I think my readers view my writing. The critiques of my scholarly essays have been a process of slow, but positive evolution, with my earlier work being quite unimpressive, and my more recent work enjoying such criticism as, “highly entertaining, and engaging, but also somewhat disorganized and prone to tangential thinking”. In terms of my fictional writing there have rarely been any complaints among my small following. Some have claimed to get to know me better upon reading my various works, and this gives me a feeling that I convey my emotions well in my creative writing. From this I can surmise that my writing is probably better suited toward creative fiction, and creative non-fiction, rather than the highly structured formats of scientific writing. Furthermore, I believe that the primary field I need to improve is in my structural, and mechanical writing skills, as they will assist me in focusing my thoughts, and restricting my overactive imagination, which is largely responsible for my tangent-riddled style.


Well, that's it for my first post. While I hope to offer some more fun, and personal entries, for the most part I will be using this blog to upload my many university activities for peer appraisal, and to keep my friends informed of my progress. I will write again soon, and in the meantime, remember to be good, and if you can't be good be careful, and if you can't be careful, buy a pram. Welcome to my blog.


Tim