About Me

If you want to get a different perspective on my journey, try this blog from Zac. A friend I'm travelling with. zacstravelcolours.wordpress.com

Thursday, 19 April 2012

The beauty in the distance

I saw you standing by the way
And thought myself lucky, to see your face
I saw such beauty, such style and grace
Hello, I hoped you'd come and say
To shine your light upon my day
I hoped to kiss your lips with haste
Through your shining hair my love I'd trace
Your eyes, your smile, they made me sway

But when I saw you drawing near
Your style and beauty turned to nill
Your eyes, your smile, they made me ill
Your hair fell lank and rank with lice,
In my mind that old refrain I hear
Nice from afar but far from nice

Gulliver's Fourth Journey: Warnerversal Island

First off, sorry to my two followers who I have seriously neglected these past months. This is an exercise I did for a creative writing class. It's my attempt to satirise the modern music industry (Hence the brilliant name mashup title) through the lens of Gulliver's Travels. Let me know what you think.

Journey Five: Warnerversal Island
The island was inhabited by three tribes, each entirely separate and willfully ignorant of the other, except for when the necessities of everyday commerce forced them to interact. The Dylans (when left to their own devices) made music the likes of which I had never heard, far outstripping our own musicians and conveying such emotion as I never thought possible. They were a small group, outnumbered by the Katters, who controlled the island's food production. The Katters saw this love of music, but paid it little attention.

Many hundreds of years in the past, the Murdochs, a cunning minority group, realised the Katters would subconsciously react to certain elements of the Dylan's music. Over the years they'd studied these elements, isolating them and eventually removing them from musicality entirely. They had so far distilled the elements which the Katters reacted to as to be able to completely control them with a series of different high-pitched screams, groans and smashing sounds. These sounds were played all over the island, and in time, the Katters had taken them to be real music, as the Dylan's were forced to make these crimes against creativity in order to survive.