The Medium is the Massage

The Medium is the Massage was a really interesting collage of media messages and imagery. As I was reading through the book, what instantly caught my attention was the phrase, "Printing, a ditto device." When thinking about our assignment this week to give an updated page to the book, Tumblr was what came to mind. Reblogging is literally a "ditto device" and the backbone to the Tumblr interface.

The page I created is what I think of as "Tumblr in a nutshell". Walls of text posts, passionate reblogs of like-minded users, followed up by a sarcastic remark summed up with an image. And let's not forget the never ending tags where a user can get in their final two cents on the matter.

Lolita

" To an unsmiling blond bitch of a secretary I gave my daughter's age as "practically sixteen." 
  

After reading Lolita, I can see how Lolita has become such a popular, but controversial novel. The essence of Lolita is based around the ideal "nymphet"; the cherub-like child on the brinks of womanhood. His drive to find these perfectly aged nymphets girls stemmed from the relationship he had with Annabel as a child. Feeling unaccomplished, he continues to seek out for girls around the age of 12. To Humbert Humbert, the little Lolita is the epitome of nymphets. His fetish for young girls is constantly brought up throughout the story, and he is keen to remind the reader of what he sees as Lolita's age and the ages of other nymphets that strike his fancy. The age of a girl is very important to him and he wants to tell the readers of that every chance he gets.

So when I was reading through Lolita, and I got to this remark by Humbert to the nurse, it really struck a chord. Up until this point, in Humbert's mind, Lolita was perpetually a young child around 12-13 years old. Even though she was far from innocence and the subject to his sexual endeavors (and to of a boy's in summer camp) she remained a nymphet in his eyes. His obsession for Lolita was so great that it began to distort his perception of her age. Although he clearly knew she was naturally getting older and would describe her features as she aged- she was always his "child" or "darling."  He was attracted to her youthful childness afterall, so as long as he kept that alive in his mind- his attraction and obsession with Lolita continued. 

He also tries his best to prevent her from growing up- another effect based on his idealized version of Lolita. Humbert prevents her from being with boys and keeps a close eye on all of her friends. Even though he knows that Lolita has had experiences at the camp in the past, he takes great strides to prevent Lolita from reaching adulthood in society. When Lolita attended school and wanted to participate in the play, he made of point of only allowing her to join if there were no male actors.

I noticed that the few times Humbert were bring Lolita's true age to his own attention was if Lolita was acting rebellious towards Humbert or if Humbert was in an awful mood. The scene in the hospital is one of the best examples of his emotional state where Humbert has to admit to the nurse that Lolita is "practically sixteen" in a harsh and violent demeanor. Earlier in the story, he would keep pretending Lolita was still young around 12 years old.

The young age of the girls he pursued was an extremely important factor in Humbert's obsession and is most likely one of the reasons why Lolita is such an uncomfortable book to read. It's one thing to read about a character's obsession and passion for another, but the target of his deeds is a young girl. It was definitely a very interesting and well thought-out book, but I would probably not read it again in my spare time. 

The Moon Maid

Last week we looked into Pulp Fiction writing. I was really excited for this week because I am a sucker for the over-the-top fantasy/scifi genre stories. I definitely skimmed that list and picked the one that had the most interesting and bizarre name, and I didn't want to have any prior knowledge to the novel I chose before I read it. My attention was instantly caught by the Moon Maid by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

It was a whirlwind of science fiction, action and romance. I really enjoyed this book! I was hooked when the team of space explorers landed on the moon and began to describe their surroundings. The descriptions had tons of detail that gave me a really clear mental picture of the soft greyish lavender vegetation, the thick murky water, and the bizarre creatures.

I found it funny though that in this world of great space exploration and travels to Mars, that no one decided to investigate the moon- the closest to Earth. I suppose what was meant to be implied was that it was a common assumption between the scientists that the moon was a dead planet. Either way, I'm glad that the team made their emergency landing onto the moon. The whole idea of this extensive world thriving beneath the moon's craters was really fascinating. I loved how there was always this perpetual foggy daytime atmosphere. You could see Burroughs took great care in developing a convincing but eccentric world.

The creatures were also pretty terrifying, mainly the centaur like beings with human faces that were cannibals. Actually, practically every race that existed on the moon ate each other in some horrific fashion- which Julian is horrified by because of the races having human like faces and intelligence. I was getting the vibe there was some pro-vegetarian undertones to this book!

The Moon Maid was a really great read, and I'd be interested in checking out the sequels when I get a chance.

GREAT GATSBY screenplay

My version of the Great Gatsby takes place in a post apocalyptic world, where chemical warfare has left the country in ruins and the air contaminated. Gas masks and oxygen tanks have become a part of normal life. A mysterious man named Gatsby is known for hosting extravagant parties for survivors.

My screenplay is a snippet from Chapter 7, after the death of Myrtle.
----

Fade in:

EXT. DAISY AND TOM'S HOUSE - NIGHT

In the red haze of the radioactive war district, a car's dim headlights breaks through the thick chemical fog as it pulls into the debris ridden drive way.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR - NIGHT

The shadowed passengers pull on their gas masks and affix the mini portable oxygen tanks to their belts.

TOM, still rattled by the lost of his mistress, is revealed to be the first to exit the car as he steps into the light from his house.

TOM

(mutters)

Daisy's home.

JORDAN, and NICK, cautiously exit the car watching Tom.

TOM

I ought to have dropped you in West Egg, Nick. There's nothing we can do tonight.

The group walks through the hazardous fog, the sound of their breathing through the masks fills the silence, until they arrive at -

THE PORCH

Tom looks back towards Nick, before he opens the heavy protective door.

TOM

(impatient)

Won't you come in?

NICK

(hesitant)

No thanks. But I'd be glad if you'd order me a taxi…

JORDAN

(confused)

It's only half past nine.

Jordan puts her hand on Nick's shoulder, motions for him to follow.

NICK

(tired but stern)

No thanks.

Nick and Jordan stare at each other in silence through their masks, and Jordan abruptly turns away through the door.

Tom follows after Jordan, looks back at Nick one last time before shutting the heavy door.

Nick watches their silhouettes move through the windows, sighs, and makes his way towards the street.

DISSOLVE TO:

SIDE OF THE ROAD - NIGHT

The thick red haze swallows up the streetlights, the house is barely visible in the background.

Nick walks along the pathway to the curb to wait beneath the dim streetlight.

Nick goes to sit down on a pile of rubble, left from the war.

GATSBY, a man who's known to throw lavish parties for the survivors, walks out from behind the debris.

NICK

(caught by surprise and stands)

What are you doing here?

GATSBY

(uneasy, fidgeting)

Just standing here, old sport.

(pause)

Did you see any trouble on the road?

NICK

(suspicious)

Yes.

(begins to step away)

GATSBY

(steps closer)

Was she killed?

NICK

(long pause)

Yes.

(Getting frustrated)

What happened?

GATSBY

(fumbling with his words, incomplete thoughts)
Daisy wanted to...I tried to swing the wheel-

NICK

(shocked, cuts off Gatsby)

Was Daisy Driving?

GATSBY

Yes.

(pause)

She was very nervous, and thought it would steady her to drive, and this woman rushed out just as-

The taxi's eerie red lights break through the fog, the sound of the motor approaches.

Nick and Gatsby watch the taxi pull up to the curb.

Gatsby looks to Nick, but Nick dismisses him, shakes his head and enters the taxi without a word.

Gatsby looks back towards the house.

PAN OUT AS TAXI DRIVES AWAY INTO FOG.

FADE TO BLACK.

Week 2

Case #491

Official investigation into the death of Elizabeth A. Warden and Sarah C. Warden.

Warden, A. Elizabeth. Female. 1882-1903. -Accused
Warden, C. Sarah. Female.  1854-1903. -Stepmother of Accused

November 18th, 1905.

EVIDENCE:

The following pages are from Elizabeth Warden's diary.

----

October 26th, 1903. 

Great news! Earlier today, I was sitting in the study hand stitching some finishing touches to my costume for the party, when I heard Daddy shouting for me from the lobby. He seemed rather excited over something, I could hear the surprise in my step-mother's voice. I shouted "I'm coming!" towards the hall as I looped the thread into a knot and gave it a little tug. I'm being a witch for this year's Halloween party, and it's the first time I have sewn it all myself. I'm still pretty impressed by it. While I was besides myself with pride, my father and step-mother, who realized I wasn't coming to the lobby, decided to pursue me in the study.

"Elizabeth dear, you should come when your father calls you" said my step mother, in her typical dreadful, judging tone. I saw her scoff when she glanced over to my witch costume. Sarah decided to take it upon her self to run the Halloween party this year, and it was her wishes that everyone keep to the theme (which so happened to be Alice in Wonderland.) I was not about to wear some tacky, childish Alice costume. I could tell she was still holding a grudge over it; if she wanted someone dressed up as Alice, she can be Alice herself! (I think the Queen of Hearts suits her so much more...)

Lucky for her, my Father spoke up before I gave her some of my two cents on the matter. 

"Darling, Elizabeth, look! I've brought you home a little surprise. I was going to give it to you on Christmas, but I just couldn't wait," he said to me as he placed a decent sized box into my hands. I was pretty shocked, it wasn't like my father to give out gifts. I sat down on the sofa, and placed the box gently on my lap. I lifted up the corners and pulled out the crinkled tissue to reveal a shiny black box. I remember thinking for a few moments about what strange looking object it was. I pulled the black box out and realized what was in my hands.

"A Kodak!" I had shouted to my father, who's face lit up with joy. Sarah seemed uninterested, but I thought she was just jealous. 

"Great! Now you can take photos of the party," she was quick to add. What began as an awesome present, had already turned into a boring job. I can see why my father bought the Kodak now. I'm sure he'd been planning for me to take pictures of the party for Sarah all along.

Oh well, at least I still have a few more days to mess around with my Kodak before Halloween. Here's the very first picture I took, starring yours truly! 

  

Looks pretty nice, right? 

 

October 26th, 1903.

I decided to go out and spend the day around the lake. It was really beautiful- sunny with a mild breeze. I took a picture of our house on the way over:

It's been an unusually warm Autumn. Most of the leaves have not fallen yet. It's even a little surreal. 

October 29th, 1903. 

Today has been drastically different from three days ago, there's a chill in the air! I can hear the wind whistling outside the windows tonight. It's beginning to feel like Autumn, just in time for Halloween! Unfortunately, my step-mother has been having me clean and prepare the house for the party, so I haven't had the time to explore with my Kodak as much as I would have liked. 

October 31st, 1903

Happy Halloween!! Here's a picture I took of myself yesterday as I tried on my costume for the first time:

 Isn't it great? I added some designs to the dress yesterday morning, I felt it needed a little something extra. Sarah wasn't so happy that I was using the kitchen broom as a prop- in fact she was telling me off just as the photo snapped. I'm sure I can get some better pictures of it later. 

It's still early in the morning, only some family members have arrived. Sarah was quick to get me on picture duty.

Speaking of Sarah, the award for most ridiculous costume goes to my step-mother, Sarah Warden.

And to think she criticized my costume...

Uncle Simon and Aunt Beth

Uncle Simon fits the Mad Hatter, that's for sure. (It's only 10:30 and I swore I saw him looking around the wine cellar). I'm not really sure what character Aunt Beth is. March Hare?

Cousins Samantha and Frederick.

Apparently, they are tweedledee and tweedledum. They are pretty darling either way. Freddy has been playing with his father's umbrella all day. Hasn't anyone told him that opening an umbrella indoors is bad luck?

Sarah's shouting for me to come downstairs, it sounds like some more guests arrived.  

November 1st, 1903 

I did not sleep last night. I've made sure the candle by my bedside has stayed brightly lit until the sun rose. I can't even believe what I'm looking at. I don't want to look at them, but I can not look away. The images developed from the party last night...

Well I guess I should give a brief summary of the events that led to these images. 

Last night, around 2 in the morning, my step-mother brought all of the family and friends together into the parlor. While everyone was out enjoying the food and music in the other room, she had set up tarot cards, a crystal ball, and several other strange objects in the center of a room on the table. All of the furniture had been re-arranged to revolve around center of the room, and some tacky Halloween decorations hung around the curtains to give the room this "gypsy fortune teller" feel. I knew my step-mother wasn't a particularly religious woman, but even this felt a little over the top for her.

"A séance?" I remember my father asking her. He had always grown up in a strict religious household. I could see him fidget nervously.

"It's just a little Halloween fun, dear! Is there something wrong with that?" She rebuked to my father. Her tone of voice kept my father's mouth shut, with the fear he'd end up being to blame for ruining her party events. 

With that, the guests and my parents sat around the table in the parlor, the candlelight illuminating everyone's faces in an eerie way. My step-mother and aunt began the séance, invoking the spirits of the dead and past family members with words of both hate and love. Some guests took it seriously, others took it with a hearty laugh. 

I found it as a good opportunity to take some pictures. The room was filled with whispers to the long departed, and the flashes of my Kodak's bulb. 

In one of those flashes, I could've sworn I saw a face illuminated behind one of my aunts. I shrieked and jumped back, interrupting the flow of the séance. Some of the guests shrieked along side me, but most of the men in the room laughed. They switched the lights back on, and the guests began to say their goodbyes after the long, eventful night.

"Elizabeth, you've got your self all worked up! I didn't even get to finish the séance!" Sarah snapped at me as she pulled me aside by the arm. While the guests filed past us back into the hall, Sarah narrowed her eyes at me. I could tell she was trying to think of something insulting to say. Instead, a few guests came over to speak with her, and I used the opportunity to retreat back to my bedroom.

I was going through the images of the party this afternoon, a lot of them were the generic images of the guests and decorations. But when I got to the séance...well. See for yourself:

I don't understand. Did I really see that face? I must have...

These images are haunting. I haven't showed them to anyone yet. The faces, I see them in my nightmares. I see them in the shadows, in the corners of my eyes. I'm afraid to use my camera again. This will be my secret. 

November 2nd, 1903 

I keep seeing a boy. Well..not really seeing him. I can't sleep, but when I do, I see a boy in my dreams. They aren't dreams, they are nightmares. He carries an axe. I don't know why I keep dreaming about him. 

Father and Sarah have been arguing a lot today. I don't know why. 

November 3rd, 1903 

Arguing worse. Nightmares are worse. Everyone's fighting now. It's like my nightmares are reality. I thought I heard a voice today. It was calling for me.

November 5th, 1903. 

They've been fighting over me! I'm just so MAD. I can't sleep. Everyone is always shouting.

Sarah stole my camera from me. I want it back.

November 8th, 1903.

Sarah found more pictures on my camera. I DIDN'T TAKE THEM. She didn't believe me. I don't know where these came from. Here is one:

Father left today.

I saw the boy. He had an axe.

November 11th, 1903.

Sarah stole my diary.

She saw the pictures.

November 13th, 1903.

The boy and I have a plan.

----

2 bodies identified as Sarah Warden and Elizabeth Warden were found November 13th, 1903.

EVIDENCE: 

      -Axe found at the crime scene: murder weapon.

      -Kodak camera found near said murder weapon.

      -Additional photographic evidence found VIA Kodak:

End of transcript.