The Last Drop
Paine Ellsworth
The Last Drop
It was late, and the order had been given. I heard the
order to return to the surface, and I was about to comply.
One more section, I thought. Just one more. It won't
take long, a few minutes. My mission was the last drop.
We were going home. We had been there on Mars for several
months and, like all the previous missions, we had found
nothing. My team had been dropped one by one into another
of the thousands of caverns beneath Mars' surface. I had
been the last to drop down, and I was the last to be
called back up.
As I carefully removed the outer layer of ancient rock, my
eye spotted a bright spot, a reflection. My hand moved
forward of its own accord, as if not a part of my body, to
brush away more of the dust and pebbles. The surface I
touched was smooth, unlike anything else so far seen on
this planet. I had found what we were looking for. We
had not really known what we were looking for, but
whatever it was, I had found it.
That was the beginning of fascinating times for me. I had
no idea what a celebrity I would become. The discovery of
an ancient technology on Mars that was infinitely far
superior to the highest technology on Earth had come to be
called "The Last Drop." And because I had been the lucky
one to discover it, I was given my choice of missions. I
served on the Comet Search and the first Centauri probe.
I've been to Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several
time-twisters. And now I am here.
Getting a little ahead of myself. That's to be expected.
I'm here because this is a historic day for Earth. This
is the day you find out about the gravitational compasses.
They've been kept a secret since the very first moon
landing. Neil and Buzz had been working on the surface
when Buzz spied something floating toward them. It was a
small, transparent globe with an object inside. The
object turned out to be gold, an arrow-shaped piece of
gold floating in some kind of gelatinous liquid. Before
the work day had ended, three more globes had floated over
to the landing site. Curiously, all four golden arrows
within all four of the globes pointed in the same
direction. Our Moon-walking astronauts made some
calculations and discovered that no matter which way they
turned the globes, the arrows always pointed to Mars.
Those globes were brought back to Earth for further
analysis. From that day to this, they have been called
by the name Buzz had given them: Mars Pointers. They
are gravitational pointers or compasses. The GC works
because every large body's gravitational force field is
like a fingerprint. No two are the same. This is one of
the many things those long-dead Symbians (they called
their planet the Symb) have taught us.
Earth scientists did not know how the compasses worked,
but their message was crystal-clear. Somebody had
obviously planted those orbs on the Moon. They were to
await the coming of space travel on Earth. When we were
finally capable of reaching the moon, somebody wanted to
give us a reason, a curiosity, to take the next step.
Each mission to the Moon since Apollo 11 has brought back
at least one GC, usually more than one. And each GC
points to Mars. There have been several secret missions
to the "red planet," each one more assertive, more
technically advanced than the last. Then came my mission.
It was the third overt mission to Mars after sixty-four
covert missions. The device that I uncovered in the
cavern turned out to be a firing module for a vessel that
could, when fully constructed, soar to the nearest star
group in as little as seven weeks. That was back in the
year 2007. Since that "Last Drop" we have learned enough
from those ancient Symbians to be able to solve many
problems here on Earth.
For now, certain things must remain secret. All things
in good time. I come to you on this time-twister because
it is now time to begin to think about raising public
support for the Mars missions. All I'm asking is for you
to think about it. I came here to kindle a spark in your
mind. Future history is not a sure thing. The covert
missions to Mars are supposed to continue until 2006,
because that's how long it will take for public interest
to become strong enough. I guess I never really liked
being a celebrity. I came back here to this time to get
away from it, and to hopefully watch it happen...
all over again.
Copyright © 2000 by Paine Ellsworth
--
Indelibly yours,
Paine
xoxoxox
Glen Wall
Paine Ellsworth <stars...@geocities.com> wrote in message
news:398FBD...@geocities.com...
> : 800 words
> The Last Drop
>
> It was late, and the order had been given. I heard the
> order to return to the surface,
"Command" to return to the surface. You've just used "order".
>and I was about to comply.
> One more section, I thought. Just one more. It won't
> take long, a few minutes.
....at the most. Dont leave the "few minutes" hanging.
>My mission was the last drop.
> We were going home. We had been there on Mars for several
"We had been on Mars", not, "there on Mars".
> months and, like all the previous missions, we had found
> nothing. My team had been dropped one by one into another
> of the thousands of caverns beneath Mars' surface.
"My team had been dropped by one?". One what? Obviously you mean a mission,
but this is an atrocious construction.
>I had
> been the last to drop down, and I was the last to be
> called back up.
>
> As I carefully removed the outer layer of ancient rock,
With what, an electric drill? If the surface was friable then it was no
longer rock, which, by definition, is solid. It was dust you were removing.
>my
> eye spotted a bright spot, a reflection.
"Spotted a bright spot?". *Please* Talk about a tin ear! In any case, that
should be "I noticed a bright spot" - you're hardly likely to have done so
with your ear.
>My hand moved
> forward of its own accord,
Just try that one in a court of law!
>as if not a part of my body, to
> brush away more of the dust and pebbles. The surface I
> touched was smooth, unlike anything else so far seen on
> this planet.
"Unlike anything else I HAD so far seen on THE planet".
>I had found what we were looking for. We
> had not really known what we were looking for, but
> whatever it was, I had found it.
Makes about as much sense as the rest of it, so far.
> That was the beginning of fascinating times for me. I had
> no idea what a celebrity I would become. The discovery of
> an ancient technology on Mars that was infinitely far
> superior
Infinite is a superlative. You can't say "infinitely far superior" for God's
sake.
to the highest technology on Earth had come to be
> called "The Last Drop."
"CAME to be called "The Last Drop". Sheesh!
> And because I had been the lucky
> one to discover it, I was given my choice of missions. I
> served on the Comet Search and the first Centauri probe.
> I've been to Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several
> time-twisters. And now I am here.
Where? Alt.writing? What a come-down!
> Getting a little ahead of myself.
I'll say. Not a good idea if you want to write comprehensible narrative.
>That's to be expected.
True enough, I suppose.
> I'm here because this is a historic day for Earth. This
> is the day you find out about the gravitational compasses.
> They've been kept a secret since the very first moon
> landing.
"Kept secret". No "a".
>Neil and Buzz had been working on the surface
> when Buzz spied something floating toward them. It was a
> small, transparent globe with an object inside. The
> object turned out to be gold, an arrow-shaped piece of
> gold floating in some kind of gelatinous liquid.
More redundancy. "The object turned out to be an arrow shaped piece of gold
etc.". And what was the "gelatinous liquid" suspended in? Or is this like
the Hindu creation myth in which the Earth is borne upon the back of a giant
elephant, and the elephant is standing on an equally overgrown tortoise?
What keeps the tortoise afloat in space?
>Before
> the work day had ended, three more globes had floated over
> to the landing site. Curiously, all four golden arrows
> within all four of the globes pointed in the same
> direction. Our Moon-walking astronauts made some
> calculations and discovered that no matter which way they
> turned the globes, the arrows always pointed to Mars.
>
> Those globes were brought back to Earth for further
> analysis. From that day to this, they have been called
> by the name Buzz had given them: Mars Pointers. They
> are gravitational pointers or compasses. The GC works
> because every large body's gravitational force field is
> like a fingerprint. No two are the same. This is one of
> the many things those long-dead Symbians (they called
> their planet the Symb) have taught us.
There would have been no point in having "gravitational compasses" whose
only function was to point towards Mars, unless the "Symbians" had the
technology to leave Mars in the first place. Had they been capable of
interplanetary travel, they would presumably have evolved a rather more
sophisticated method of navigation than golden arrows floating in gelatinous
liquid that pointed in the direction of their home planet.
> Earth scientists did not know how the compasses worked,
> but their message was crystal-clear. Somebody had
> obviously planted those orbs on the Moon. They were to
> await the coming of space travel on Earth. When we were
> finally capable of reaching the moon, somebody wanted to
> give us a reason, a curiosity, to take the next step.
A truly breathtaking non-sequitur.
> Each mission to the Moon since Apollo 11 has brought back
> at least one GC, usually more than one. And each GC
> points to Mars. There have been several secret missions
> to the "red planet," each one more assertive, more
> technically advanced than the last. Then came my mission.
>
> It was the third overt mission to Mars after sixty-four
> covert missions. The device that I uncovered in the
> cavern turned out to be a firing module for a vessel that
> could, when fully constructed, soar to the nearest star
> group in as little as seven weeks. That was back in the
> year 2007.
"Back in 2007". You don't say, "That was back in the year 1996".
> Since that "Last Drop" we have learned enough
> from those ancient Symbians to be able to solve many
> problems here on Earth.
Plainly, English grammar wasn't one of their specialities.
> For now, certain things must remain secret. All things
> in good time. I come to you on this time-twister because
> it is now time to begin to think about raising public
> support for the Mars missions. All I'm asking is for you
> to think about it. I came here to kindle a spark in your
> mind. Future history is not a sure thing. The covert
> missions to Mars are supposed to continue until 2006,
> because that's how long it will take for public interest
> to become strong enough. I guess I never really liked
> being a celebrity. I came back here to this time to get
> away from it, and to hopefully watch it happen...
> all over again.
>
>
> Copyright © 2000 by Paine Ellsworth
I don't think you need have too much fear about your copyright, Paine -
unless the author of a new textbook on grammar is on the lookout for
examples of how not to write English.
This is one of the dullest, most incompetently written stories I've ever had
the misfortune to read. Frankly, it sounds as though it was written by a not
very bright 15 year old. It also sounds incredibly dated, which is quite an
achievement for a story set in the future. This is pure 1950's Dan
Dare-style science fiction. A throwback to the good old, bad old days when
sci-fi writers knew no more about hard science than they knew about the
rigours of English composition. Presumably however, you must think well
enough of the piece or you wouldn't have posted it here. That's what really
worries me. It's bad enough merely to have written such appalling drivel,
but to be further afflicted with such a lack of critical discrimination that
you actually thought it was worth posting - well.............I'm speechless.
The only encouraging thing is the title, "The Last Drop". We can at least
sleep soundly in our beds at night, safe in the knowledge that no sequel is
in preparation.
Glen.
Frank S
"Glen Wall": << ... That's what really
worries me. It's bad enough merely to have written such appalling drivel,
but to be further afflicted with such a lack of critical discrimination that
you actually thought it was worth posting - well............. >>
Popularly known as the "JerviZ Syndrome." Seems it's going around.
That, or it's a troll. I hope it's a troll.
Jerv
>>My hand moved
>> forward of its own accord,
>
>Just try that one in a court of law!
Incredible. Let all and sundry be humbled before such classic
wit as this. Oh, my side; the pain; the Paine! I hope the line
is not too long down at the organ transplant clinic where I
shall be found henceforth seeking a good used spleen. Maybe
they've got 'hawkers' with red and white "Igloos" down there
like at a Yankee's game? God, I hope so, because if I read any
more of this it'll kill me, it really will.
--
Jerv
mailto:dadd...@yifan.net
http://daddio45.tripod.com/index-1.html
-----------------------------------------------------------
Got questions? Get answers over the phone at Keen.com.
Up to 100 minutes free!
http://www.keen.com
Glen Wall
Frank S <fshe...@san.rr.com> wrote in message
news:JlZj5.13148$OG2....@typhoon.san.rr.com...
>
> "Glen Wall": << ... That's what really
> worries me. It's bad enough merely to have written such appalling drivel,
> but to be further afflicted with such a lack of critical discrimination
that
>
>
> Popularly known as the "JerviZ Syndrome." Seems it's going around.
>
> That, or it's a troll. I hope it's a troll.
Paine and I are old adversaries - he's not some coy newbie, and if he
doesn't know better than to post such drivel by now, it's high time that he
did.
Besides, I owed him one. Now we're quits.
The Dazzingly Wise and Mature,
Glen.
Jerv
>
>Popularly known as the "JerviZ Syndrome." Seems it's going
>around.
You might note fWank, that Glen did not enjoin you in this noise
which any three-year-old is able to duplicate with a rubber
balloon by which one fills it with air and stretches the nipple
as one then lets the air out again.
Henceforth, you shall be known as...
fWankie Little-Toe
==
Jerv
"This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none,
And _this_ little piggy
Went 'wee-wee-wee' all the way home."
Frank S
>
>Popularly known as the "JerviZ Syndrome." Seems it's going
>around.
You might note fWank, that Glen did not enjoin you in this noise
which any three-year-old is able to duplicate with a rubber
balloon by which one fills it with air and stretches the nipple
as one then lets the air out again.
Henceforth, you shall be known as...
fWankie Little-Toe
==
Jerv >>
Does this _ever_ work for you? Other than with
--
n?
Jerv
Hark! What ho? I hear a familiar tune. What is it we see as we
find fWank fading away as he steps from one circle of a
spotlight through the dark to the next, turning to plaintively
sing his version of the signature Jimmy Durante number which he
calls...
"Oinka Doinka Doo"
And no, it is not "Inka Dinka Doo" with a Brooklyn accent.
--
Jerv
Frank S
"Jerv" <harry_lyme...@theglobe.com.invalid> wrote in message
news:00d02758...@usw-ex0105-035.remarq.com...
> "Frank S" <fshe...@san.rr.com> wrote:
> ><< "Frank S" <fshe...@san.rr.com> wrote:
> >>
> >>Popularly known as the "JerviZ Syndrome." Seems it's going
> >>around.
> >
> >You might note fWank, that Glen did not enjoin you in this noise
> >which any three-year-old is able to duplicate with a rubber
> >balloon by which one fills it with air and stretches the nipple
> >as one then lets the air out again.
> >
> >Henceforth, you shall be known as...
> >
> >fWankie Little-Toe
> >
> >==
> >Jerv >>
> >
> >
> >Does this _ever_ work for you? Other than with
> >--
> >n?
>
> Hark! What ho? I hear a familiar tune. What is it we see as we
> find fWank fading away as he steps from one circle of a
> spotlight through the dark to the next, turning to plaintively
> sing his version of the signature Jimmy Durante number which he
> calls...
>
> "Oinka Doinka Doo"
>
> And no, it is not "Inka Dinka Doo" with a Brooklyn accent.
>
> --
> Jerv
>
Does _anything_ you do, work?
Jerv
You're squealing again, fWankie Little-Toe with the floppy ears,
dirty face and the grunt-grunt, snort-snort.
nancy
alt.writing on 08 Aug 2000 here.
other than with
--
n ...
--
n
Country Music: the Special Olympics of the music industry.
Paine Ellsworth
head is the only large intestine-made object that can be seen
from outer space? --
I didn't like this piece much either -- but your comments show
me that it may actually possess merit --
I've always said that there's nothing i wouldn't do for a quasar-
brained asshole who criticizes my work, so here goes . . .
Glen Wall wrote:
>
> Paine Ellsworth, *starswirler* wrote...
> >
> > : 800 words
> > The Last Drop
> >
> > It was late, and the order had been given. I heard the
> > order to return to the surface,
>
> "Command" to return to the surface. You've just used "order".
pffft --
> > and I was about to comply.
> > One more section, I thought. Just one more. It won't
> > take long, a few minutes.
>
> ....at the most. Dont leave the "few minutes" hanging.
I didn't -- if *you* got it, everybody got it --
> > My mission was the last drop.
> > We were going home. We had been there on Mars for several
>
> "We had been on Mars", not, "there on Mars".
pffft --
> > months and, like all the previous missions, we had found
> > nothing. My team had been dropped one by one into another
> > of the thousands of caverns beneath Mars' surface.
>
> "My team had been dropped by one?". One what? Obviously you mean a mission,
> but this is an atrocious construction.
*one* by one, smegma breath -- you must have learned to read
back in the year 2007 --
> > I had
> > been the last to drop down, and I was the last to be
> > called back up.
> >
> > As I carefully removed the outer layer of ancient rock,
>
> With what, an electric drill? If the surface was friable then it was no
> longer rock, which, by definition, is solid. It was dust you were removing.
pffft -- who cares? --
> > my
> > eye spotted a bright spot, a reflection.
>
> "Spotted a bright spot?". *Please* Talk about a tin ear! In any case, that
> should be "I noticed a bright spot" - you're hardly likely to have done so
> with your ear.
Here Spot -- roll over -- play dead -- good boy! --
> > My hand moved
> > forward of its own accord,
>
> Just try that one in a court of law!
Too bad you never heard of the power of the subconscious,
mouthpiece-boy --
> > as if not a part of my body, to
> > brush away more of the dust and pebbles. The surface I
> > touched was smooth, unlike anything else so far seen on
> > this planet.
>
> "Unlike anything else I HAD so far seen on THE planet".
pffft --
> > I had found what we were looking for. We
> > had not really known what we were looking for, but
> > whatever it was, I had found it.
>
> Makes about as much sense as the rest of it, so far.
Which is more than i can say for this critique, slushpile-boy --
> > That was the beginning of fascinating times for me. I had
> > no idea what a celebrity I would become. The discovery of
> > an ancient technology on Mars that was infinitely far
> > superior
>
> Infinite is a superlative. You can't say "infinitely far superior" for God's
> sake.
Your existence is superfluous, and get that black thing out of
your mouth, Potter-worshiper --
> > to the highest technology on Earth had come to be
> > called "The Last Drop."
>
> "CAME to be called "The Last Drop". Sheesh!
pffft --
> > And because I had been the lucky
> > one to discover it, I was given my choice of missions. I
> > served on the Comet Search and the first Centauri probe.
> > I've been to Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several
> > time-twisters. And now I am here.
>
> Where? Alt.writing? What a come-down!
Here here --
> > Getting a little ahead of myself.
>
> I'll say. Not a good idea if you want to write comprehensible narrative.
Being able to read is a prerequisite for comprehension --
what's it like living in a home for the neuron-impaired? --
> >That's to be expected.
>
> True enough, I suppose.
>
> > I'm here because this is a historic day for Earth. This
> > is the day you find out about the gravitational compasses.
> > They've been kept a secret since the very first moon
> > landing.
>
> "Kept secret". No "a".
pffft -- surprised that you didn't pounce on the contraction! --
> > Neil and Buzz had been working on the surface
> > when Buzz spied something floating toward them. It was a
> > small, transparent globe with an object inside. The
> > object turned out to be gold, an arrow-shaped piece of
> > gold floating in some kind of gelatinous liquid.
>
> More redundancy. "The object turned out to be an arrow shaped piece of gold
> etc.". And what was the "gelatinous liquid" suspended in? Or is this like
> the Hindu creation myth in which the Earth is borne upon the back of a giant
> elephant, and the elephant is standing on an equally overgrown tortoise?
> What keeps the tortoise afloat in space?
Hmmm -- i don't usually like to explain myself, especially to the
obviously brain-dead, but i guess i can try: the gelatinous liquid
was suspended in a transparent globe -- now write that down because
you may be tested later --
> > Before
> > the work day had ended, three more globes had floated over
> > to the landing site. Curiously, all four golden arrows
> > within all four of the globes pointed in the same
> > direction. Our Moon-walking astronauts made some
> > calculations and discovered that no matter which way they
> > turned the globes, the arrows always pointed to Mars.
> >
> > Those globes were brought back to Earth for further
> > analysis. From that day to this, they have been called
> > by the name Buzz had given them: Mars Pointers. They
> > are gravitational pointers or compasses. The GC works
> > because every large body's gravitational force field is
> > like a fingerprint. No two are the same. This is one of
> > the many things those long-dead Symbians (they called
> > their planet the Symb) have taught us.
>
> There would have been no point in having "gravitational compasses" whose
> only function was to point towards Mars, unless the "Symbians" had the
> technology to leave Mars in the first place. Had they been capable of
> interplanetary travel, they would presumably have evolved a rather more
> sophisticated method of navigation than golden arrows floating in gelatinous
> liquid that pointed in the direction of their home planet.
I keep forgetting... you're Simian, not Symbian -- i never
said they used the GC for navigation, Dilly Doe -- but it's
a good thought --
> > Earth scientists did not know how the compasses worked,
> > but their message was crystal-clear. Somebody had
> > obviously planted those orbs on the Moon. They were to
> > await the coming of space travel on Earth. When we were
> > finally capable of reaching the moon, somebody wanted to
> > give us a reason, a curiosity, to take the next step.
>
> A truly breathtaking non-sequitur.
Hmmm -- you're an explorer and you find several pointers that
always point to a specific place on the frontier -- these
pointers are obviously not human-made -- your parents probably
consider *you* to be a non sequitur, accident-boy --
> > Each mission to the Moon since Apollo 11 has brought back
> > at least one GC, usually more than one. And each GC
> > points to Mars. There have been several secret missions
> > to the "red planet," each one more assertive, more
> > technically advanced than the last. Then came my mission.
> >
> > It was the third overt mission to Mars after sixty-four
> > covert missions. The device that I uncovered in the
> > cavern turned out to be a firing module for a vessel that
> > could, when fully constructed, soar to the nearest star
> > group in as little as seven weeks. That was back in the
> > year 2007.
>
> "Back in 2007". You don't say, "That was back in the year 1996".
pffft --
> > Since that "Last Drop" we have learned enough
> > from those ancient Symbians to be able to solve many
> > problems here on Earth.
>
> Plainly, English grammar wasn't one of their specialities.
pffft --
> > For now, certain things must remain secret. All things
> > in good time. I come to you on this time-twister because
> > it is now time to begin to think about raising public
> > support for the Mars missions. All I'm asking is for you
> > to think about it. I came here to kindle a spark in your
> > mind. Future history is not a sure thing. The covert
> > missions to Mars are supposed to continue until 2006,
> > because that's how long it will take for public interest
> > to become strong enough. I guess I never really liked
> > being a celebrity. I came back here to this time to get
> > away from it, and to hopefully watch it happen...
> > all over again.
> >
> >
> > Copyright © 2000 by Paine Ellsworth
>
> I don't think you need have too much fear about your copyright, Paine -
> unless the author of a new textbook on grammar is on the lookout for
> examples of how not to write English.
and this from such a fine editor-wannabee -- your arse is
waiting for its next kiss, so bend over and don't keep your
arse waiting! --
> This is one of the dullest, most incompetently written stories I've ever had
> the misfortune to read. Frankly, it sounds as though it was written by a not
> very bright 15 year old. It also sounds incredibly dated, which is quite an
> achievement for a story set in the future. This is pure 1950's Dan
> Dare-style science fiction. A throwback to the good old, bad old days when
> sci-fi writers knew no more about hard science than they knew about the
> rigours of English composition. Presumably however, you must think well
> enough of the piece or you wouldn't have posted it here. That's what really
> worries me. It's bad enough merely to have written such appalling drivel,
> but to be further afflicted with such a lack of critical discrimination that
> you actually thought it was worth posting - well.............I'm speechless.
Thank! you very much -- i'm so glad you liked it --
> The only encouraging thing is the title, "The Last Drop". We can at least
> sleep soundly in our beds at night, safe in the knowledge that no sequel is
> in preparation.
>
> Glen.
Well, actually i did have some more warm ideas...
--
Indelibly yours,
Paine (your comments & expertise are truly undervalued)
xoxoxox ** NEW ** update --
http://home.att.net/~Paine_Ellsworth/
Paine Ellsworth
>
> Country Music: the Special Olympics of the music industry.
______________________
oooooooooooooooooooooo
--
Indelibly yours, "pro bono publico"
Paine
Paine Ellsworth
>
> Glen Wall wrote:
>
> > Paine Ellsworth wrote...
> >> My hand moved forward of its own accord,
> >
> >Just try that one in a court of law!
>
> wit as this. Oh, my side; the pain; the Paine! I hope the line
> is not too long down at the organ transplant clinic where I
> shall be found henceforth seeking a good used spleen. Maybe
> they've got 'hawkers' with red and white "Igloos" down there
> like at a Yankee's game? God, I hope so, because if I read any
> more of this it'll kill me, it really will.
>
> Jerv
>
> mailto:dadd...@yifan.net
> http://daddio45.tripod.com/index-1.html
>
> -----------------------------------------------------------
>
> Got questions? Get answers over the phone at Keen.com.
> Up to 100 minutes free!
> http://www.keen.com
Well that's enough to make anybody want to do a sequel, ain't it --
--
Indelibly yours, "pro bono publico"
Paine <g>
JoeSykes
<gw...@freeuk.com> writes
>Paine and I are old adversaries - he's not some coy newbie, and if he
>doesn't know better than to post such drivel by now, it's high time that he
>did.
>
>Besides, I owed him one. Now we're quits.
>
>The Dazzingly Wise and Mature,
>Glen.
Love it ... old adversaries. You've been around for, what ... a year? Paine
Elsworth epitomises Usenet drivel, it's been his hallmark for years around the
ngs. I do admire the way you contrive a blasé presence, the old stager, for a
certain audience. Coy newbie you ain't, ducky, that's for sure. I nominate you
Arriviste Sub-Personality of the Year. World famous in alt.writing's lit crit
circles, our very own Pooter made good, a picture of anxious gentility. Such a
treat.
Syko
Jabelson1
>Country Music: the Special Olympics of the music industry.
Only to those who don't know...
Glen Wall
> > > And because I had been the lucky
> > > one to discover it, I was given my choice of missions. I
> > > served on the Comet Search and the first Centauri probe.
> > > I've been to Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several
> > > time-twisters. And now I am here.
> >
> > Where? Alt.writing? What a come-down!
>
> Here here --
There, there..........
Glen.
Glen Wall
JoeSykes <Sy...@omisminnit.fsnet.co.uk> wrote in message
news:TBtpuYBUBSk5Ew$1...@omisminnit.fsnet.co.uk...
> In article <Ub_j5.10570$671.1...@nnrp4.clara.net>, Glen Wall
> <gw...@freeuk.com> writes
>
> >Paine and I are old adversaries - he's not some coy newbie, and if he
> >doesn't know better than to post such drivel by now, it's high time that
he
> >did.
> >
> >Besides, I owed him one. Now we're quits.
> >
> >The Dazzingly Wise and Mature,
> >Glen.
>
> Love it ... old adversaries. You've been around for, what ... a year?
A year is a long time on Usenet - to paraphrase Sir Harold Wilson.
>Paine Elsworth epitomises Usenet drivel, it's
>been his hallmark for years around the ngs.
Well, when it comes to "drivel", you're in a class all of your own.
Besides, a little competition was exactly what you needed to keep you on
your toes. Without the threat posed by Paine's second-rate drivel, you would
have had no impetus to scribble "History" - vintage Class A Sykodrivel if
ever I saw it.
Glen.
Paine Ellsworth
>
...an unprofessional, limp-dicked and sad excuse for a
critique that was unasked for, unwelcome and deeply
appreciated --
940 words --
The Last Drop
It was late, and the command had been given. I heard the
order to return to the surface, and I was about to comply.
One more section, I thought. Just one more. It won't
take long, a few minutes at most. My drop was the last
drop. We were going home. We had been on Mars for
several months and, like all the previous missions, we had
found nothing. One by one, my team had been dropped into
another of the thousands of caverns beneath Mars' surface.
I had been the last to sink down, and I was the last to be
called back up.
As I carefully brushed away the outer layer of ancient
dust, my eye spotted a bright flash, a reflection from my
helmet light. My hand slowly moved forward as if it had a
mind of its own, as if not a part of my body. I brushed
away more of the crust and pebbles. The surface I touched
was smooth, unlike anything else I had seen in these
caverns. I had found what we were looking for. Up to now
none of us had really known exactly what we were searching
for. Whatever it was, I was sure that I had found it.
That was the beginning of fascinating times for me. I had
no idea what a celebrity I would become. The discovery of
an ancient technology on Mars that was eons ahead of the
highest technology on Earth came to be called "The Last
Drop." And because I had been the lucky one to discover
it, I was given my choice of missions. I served on the
Comet Search and the first Centauri probe. I have been to
Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several time-twisters.
And now I am back here on Earth.
I am getting a little ahead of myself. The reason I
returned here is because this is a historic day for Earth.
This is the day you find out about the gravitational
compasses. They have been kept secret since the very
first moon landing. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldren were
working on the surface of the moon when Buzz spied
something floating toward them. It was a small,
transparent globe with an object suspended inside. The
object turned out to be a thin piece of gold leaf shaped
like an arrowhead with a short shaft. The golden arrow
gently floated in a gel within the globe. By the end of
that day, three more globes with little golden arrows had
floated to the landing site. Curiously, all the arrows
within all four globes pointed in the same direction.
Neil made some calculations and discovered that no matter
which way they turned the globes, the arrows always
pointed toward Mars.
Those globes were brought back to Earth for further
analysis. They were not light enough to float here in
our gravity field, but the golden arrows remained
suspended within the mysterious gel. From that day to
this the globes have been called by the name Buzz gave
them: Mars Pointers. They are gravitational pointers
or compasses. The GC works because every large body's
gravitational force field is like a fingerprint. No
two are the same. This is one of many delectable bits
of knowledge that those long-dead Symbians, who called
their planet the Symb, left for us to discover in deep,
dark caverns on Mars.
Earth scientists did not know how the compasses worked,
but their message was crystal-clear: Go explore Mars
where you will find who-knows-what? The Symbians had
planted those globes on the Moon. In the caverns we
found their explanation. The globes had been left on
the Moon to await the coming of space travel on Earth.
When we were finally capable of reaching the moon, the
Symbians wanted to give us a reason, a curiosity, to
take the next step. Each mission to the Moon since
Apollo 11 has brought back at least one GC, usually
more than one. And each GC points to Mars. There have
been several covert missions to the "red planet," each
one more assertive, more technically advanced than the
last. Then came my mission.
Mine was the third overt mission to Mars after sixty-
four secret missions. The device that I uncovered in
the cavern turned out to be a firing module for a space
vessel. When fully constructed that vessel could soar
to the nearest star cluster in as little as seven weeks.
I found the firing module back in 2007. Since that
"Last Drop" we have learned enough from those ancient
Symbians to be able to solve many problems here on
Earth.
For now, certain things must remain secret. All things
come in good time. I came back on this time-twister to
help raise public support for the Mars missions. All
I am asking you to do is think about it. I want to
kindle a spark in your mind. I was unable to bring a
gravitational compass with me, and acquiring one will
not be easy. I know that if I can get one or two, it
will pave the way to persuading you. Future history is
never a sure thing. The secret missions to Mars are
supposed to continue until 2006. That's how long it
took for public interest to become strong enough to
support open flights to Mars. I am in my fifties now,
so I am slowing down a bit. I guess I never really felt
good being a celebrity. I came back to this year to get
away from that, and to hopefully watch it all unfold, to
make it happen... all over again.
Copyright © 2000 by Paine Ellsworth
--
Indelibly yours,
Paine
xoxoxox
JoeSykes
<gw...@freeuk.com>
>> Love it ... old adversaries. You've been around for, what ... a year?
>
>
>A year is a long time on Usenet - to paraphrase Sir Harold Wilson.
Who is Sir Harold Wilson? You're paraphrasing plain Harold Wilson in '76
ish. He went to the Lords in ... forgotten. Baron Revlon or something. A
year is a year is a year, shitface. Most newbies get the picture within
a few weeks and establish their position. You're still trying. I don't
think you'll ever make it past Usenet wanker.
>>Paine Elsworth epitomises Usenet drivel, it's
>>been his hallmark for years around the ngs.
>
>
>Well, when it comes to "drivel", you're in a class all of your own.
>
>Besides, a little competition was exactly what you needed to keep you on
>your toes. Without the threat posed by Paine's second-rate drivel, you would
>have had no impetus to scribble "History" - vintage Class A Sykodrivel if
>ever I saw it.
Why do you keep referring to the subject line as if it was the title of
the piece? Of course! It's because you're a Usenet wanker. Now, I must
get to bed - long drive tomorrow. London, Bedford, back to London, then
Romford. And you'll be here, in alt.writing, making a prat of yourself
as usual. You got it made, eh, wanker. I'll be back late evening and if
you've given me another opportunity, I'll give you another kicking. OK?
Goodnight.
Syko.
Glen Wall
> Glen Wall wrote:
> >
>
> ...an unprofessional, limp-dicked and sad excuse for a
> critique that was unasked for, unwelcome and deeply
> appreciated --
>
> 940 words --
> The Last Drop
>
> It was late, and the command had been given. I heard the
> order to return to the surface, and I was about to comply.
> One more section, I thought. Just one more. It won't
> take long, a few minutes at most. My drop was the last
> drop.
"My drop was the last of our mission" is better here, Paine. Watch those
ugly, redundant repetitions.
>We were going home. We had been on Mars for
> several months and, like all the previous missions, we had
> found nothing. One by one, my team had been dropped into
> another of the thousands of caverns beneath Mars' surface.
"Mars's surface", is correct, but awkward. "Beneath the surface of Mars", is
better.
> I had been the last to sink down, and I was the last to be
> called back up.
>
> As I carefully brushed away the outer layer of ancient
> dust, my eye spotted a bright flash, a reflection from my
> helmet light.
I really think you ought to forget about your eye, Paine. For one thing,
your eye "registers" a flash - it doesn't "spot" it, because a flash is too
fast to "spot". "Registered" is passive - "spot" implies an active process
of identification. "The light on my helmet emitted a bright flash" is
simpler and more direct.
>My hand slowly moved forward as if it had a
> mind of its own, as if not a part of my body. I brushed
> away more of the crust and pebbles. The surface I touched
> was smooth, unlike anything else I had seen in these
> caverns. I had found what we were looking for. Up to now
> none of us had really known exactly what we were searching
> for. Whatever it was, I was sure that I had found it.
I think you need more explanation here, to demonstrate why you were so sure
you'd found what you were looking for. Are you saying that the "smooth"
surface was made of alloy? If it's such an Earth-shaking, or Mars-shaking
discovery, we need a bit more to go on before we can share the narrator's
excitement.
> That was the beginning of fascinating times for me. I had
> no idea what a celebrity I would become. The discovery of
> an ancient technology on Mars that was eons ahead of the
> highest technology on Earth came to be called "The Last
> Drop." And because I had been the lucky one to discover
> it, I was given my choice of missions. I served on the
> Comet Search and the first Centauri probe. I have been to
> Andromeda (yes, the galaxy) and in several time-twisters.
> And now I am back here on Earth.
>
> I am getting a little ahead of myself. The reason I
> returned here is because this is a historic day for Earth.
> This is the day you find out about the gravitational
> compasses.
"This is the day that the existence of the gravitational compasses will be
announced at a press conference given by NASA and the US Government". - or
something similar. "This is the day you find out" sounds far too casual for
such an important revelation.
>They have been kept secret since the very
> first moon landing. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldren were
> working on the surface of the moon when Buzz spied
> something floating toward them. It was a small,
> transparent globe with an object suspended inside. The
> object turned out to be a thin piece of gold leaf shaped
> like an arrowhead with a short shaft. The golden arrow
> gently floated in a gel within the globe. By the end of
> that day, three more globes with little golden arrows had
> floated to the landing site. Curiously, all the arrows
> within all four globes pointed in the same direction.
This stuff about the globes is handled much more credibly here. I can see
them now. The first descriptions were very confused and imprecise.
> Neil made some calculations and discovered that no matter
> which way they turned the globes, the arrows always
> pointed toward Mars.
>
> Those globes were brought back to Earth for further
> analysis. They were not light enough to float here in
> our gravity field,
"to float in our gravity (should be "gravitational") field" - no "here"
necessary.
but the golden arrows remained
> suspended within the mysterious gel. From that day to
> this the globes have been called by the name Buzz gave
> them: Mars Pointers. They are gravitational pointers
> or compasses. The GC works because every large body's
> gravitational force field is like a fingerprint. No
> two are the same. This is one of many delectable bits
> of knowledge that those long-dead Symbians, who called
> their planet the Symb, left for us to discover in deep,
> dark caverns on Mars.
>
> Earth scientists did not know how the compasses worked,
> but their message was crystal-clear:
"clear", or "patently clear". "Crystal clear" is a lazy cliche.
>Go explore Mars
> where you will find who-knows-what? The Symbians had
> planted those globes on the Moon. In the caverns we
> found their explanation. The globes had been left on
> the Moon to await the coming of space travel on Earth.
> When we were finally capable of reaching the moon, the
> Symbians wanted to give us a reason, a curiosity, to
> take the next step.
I'm still very unhappy with this idea. It just doesn't seem credible at all.
I think you should make these globes more functional. They could contain
crystals, for example, that Earth scientists could learn to read data from.
This data could show something of the achievements of Symbian civilisation
and technology. The US Government generally need a stronger motive for
spending billions of dollars than idle curiosity. If they thought they might
come across some kick-ass hardware with military applications on Mars, the
whole scenario would be a lot more credible.
>Each mission to the Moon since
> Apollo 11 has brought back at least one GC, usually
> more than one.
>And each GC points to Mars.
You've already told us this, several times.
>There have
> been several covert missions to the "red planet," each
> one more assertive, more technically advanced than the
> last. Then came my mission.
>
> Mine was the third overt mission to Mars after sixty-
> four secret missions. The device that I uncovered in
> the cavern turned out to be a firing module for a space
> vessel. When fully constructed that vessel could soar
> to the nearest star cluster in as little as seven weeks.
> I found the firing module back in 2007.
This information belongs in the first sentence of the paragraph. Try not to
jump backwards and forwards in time quite so much.
Since that
> "Last Drop" we have learned enough from those ancient
> Symbians to be able to solve many problems here on
> Earth.
"...Symbians, that have helped to solve many of our own social and
scientific problems".
> For now, certain things must remain secret. All things
> come in good time. I came back on this time-twister to
> help raise public support for the Mars missions. All
> I am asking you to do is think about it. I want to
> kindle a spark in your mind. I was unable to bring a
> gravitational compass with me, and acquiring one will
> not be easy.
>I know that if I can get one or two, it
> will pave the way to persuading you.
This is a rather awkward metaphor, Paine.
>Future history is
> never a sure thing.
I'm not sure whether this is an aphorism or an error.
>The secret missions to Mars are
> supposed to continue until 2006. That's how long it
> took for public interest to become strong enough to
> support open flights to Mars. I am in my fifties now,
> so I am slowing down a bit. I guess I never really felt
> good being a celebrity. I came back to this year to get
> away from that, and to hopefully watch it all unfold, to
> make it happen... all over again.
Well, that's infinitely better than the first post. It has the makings of a
decent story, but it still needs a lot of work. For one thing, it's
emotionally flat. You need to weave in more of the narrator's emotional
connection to the events he describes, particularly his fame. You mention
this on several occasions, but you never really explain how its effects
manifested or what the narrator's reaction was.
There's also an absence of dramatic tension caused by the rather loose plot
and the somewhat haphazard structure of the narrative. A sure way to annoy
readers is to continually allude to future events in promise of dramatic
fulfilment (the press conference, the Mars missions etc). These events are
not described in the narrative, so the reader feels cheated. The only kind
of short story that can afford to ignore these conventions is a story that's
principally concerned with building up a particular atmosphere.
Still, it's amazing the difference that a quick re-write can make. If only
Il Jervissimo was half as attentive to his critics!
Have another shot, and remember, we want to *engage" with the narrator,
whether from sympathy or hatred, and we have to know a certain amount about
him *as a man*, before this is possible. Great improvement, though.
Glen.
Jerv
>>Still, it's amazing the difference that a quick re-write can
make. If only Il Jervissimo was half as attentive to his
critics! <snip> Great improvement, though.<<
It is, as one observes that it benefitted notably from the
points of your criticism.
As to the issue of attentiveness to my critics, I'm sorry you
thought so bold as to bring it up here in Paine's thread, but
since you did, he will just have to grin and bear it, I guess
until I'm through, then he can have his thread back.
Of course I am always attentive, always thoughtful about
critical opinions, and you know that on many an occasion I make
changes accordingly. But, sometimes I don't, even against all
the _best_ advice, even when that advice is making perfectly
good sense according to the best of taste, as in the instant
case, where 'taste' was exactly the thing not required.
So, I really am not that stubborn? No. It has to do with an
author's own individual concept of a thing coming at variance
with the concepts of even the most astute observers. No author
can be an author unless he is the author of something unique,
something that is peculiar to his concept which results in the
revelation of that author's intent and style.
Now if you take a writer like me, you are out of luck; there is
no writer like me, other than me, and what you get is a guy who
is having his own private little joke with the world, even one
might say, at the expense of the world and everyone in it--if
that may be permitted, lest we should all go on taking ourselves
too seriously? I hope not, as I think we all hold little
respect for a person who cannot laugh at himself, even as part
of a world full of people who are being ridiculed by the tickle
of one man's pen? Well, y'all sure better be able to have that
laugh or I am definitely out of business.
All of this is, at one level or another _funny_; all my
pretenses to being an 'author', toward having 'something to
say'; finding aspects of my life that are worth 'sharing' (well
disguised as possible) as if I thought the world really needed
to hear about all this? There is nothing less ridiculous about
me, Jervis as the fool with the pen reaching out with the intent
to tickle, than there is in the rueful look of shock upon the
faces of all those upon whom it is intended. What is humor, but
the experience of being poked in the place where one least
expected it. With "Portly, partly bald, fairly hairy," you, Mr.
Highbrow got poked by the motley fool, and in my view, you have
shown a poor sense of humor about it. <G>
--
El Jervador
"Hey bull, big bull!
Here I am, come kiss me!
Ola!"
Glen Wall
Glen Wall <gw...@freeuk.com> wrote in message
news:ztAk5.2450$7v2.2...@nnrp3.clara.net...
>
> Since that
> > "Last Drop" we have learned enough from those ancient
> > Symbians to be able to solve many problems here on
> > Earth.
>
>
> "...Symbians, that have helped to solve many of our own social and
> scientific problems".
Whoops! Sorry, that should be something like "We have learned a great deal
from the (not "those") ancient Symbians that has helped us to solve many of
our own social and scientific problems.
Glen.
Glen Wall
Jerv <harry_lyme...@theglobe.com.invalid> wrote in message
>"Portly, partly bald, fairly hairy," you, Mr.
> Highbrow got poked by the motley fool, and in my view, you have
> shown a poor sense of humor about it. <G>
> --
> El Jervador
Hey, come on, Jerv - I was only teasing you. Who am *I* to tamper with the
Master's lapidary prose?
Glen.