Noticing that his 'darker' stories received more positive reviews, this author decided to produce more darker, dreary, and serious stories, in hoping to continue the positive remarks.
But then, several readers, starting from a request to create some lighter works, sang into a chorus of demands to release a more positive work, ever if no one could ever mind. As sensitive as he is (or he may be), and out of response from all the 'spam' in his e-mail section, their pressure was a success, as his latest work (for now) has a more pleasant ending than much of the previous ones. This brought about a backlash from the most devoted of fans, when these latter readers attacked and barraged the 'positivists', for influencing the whole series in the latter's favour.
This author intervened in the fiery argument, seeking the readers' wish for the outcome of his next stories. Many responded to his poll: 'It is up to you; don't worry about what others say!' Some responded as loudly as possible 'WE WANT A HOPEFUL ENDING!', continuing the ambition of their represented fan-faction. Others, desiring to ensure the mood of the story remains 'ever-consistent', though being of lesser numbers, shouted back through the chat rooms: 'KEEP IT BITTERSWEET, KEEP IT TRAGIC, KEEP IT CONSISTENT!"
Sunday 23 November 2014
TOTA - Part Six - (ARC 3: The Future)
Father and Mother had already knew that their three improved children love drawing and writing their stories (like Father does), so they slowly introduced them to some of his works in his personal library. Initially, Father permitted the children to borrow a few drawings and books of his (which they shared), and this has caused them to pester him into teaching them more.
Thursday 16 October 2014
TOTA - Part Six - His Future (ARC 2: The Past)
Refusing to give up on understanding their father, they obeyed, and concentrated more on their studies, as father instructed them to. Although they could have improved from their education, they instead made themselves more miserable, hoping that their parents will understand their plight.
But at last, the children themselves gave up, and returned to their old ways. Will their father be so much of an expecting robot to punish them? Or will he himself think again?
But at last, the children themselves gave up, and returned to their old ways. Will their father be so much of an expecting robot to punish them? Or will he himself think again?
Tuesday 14 October 2014
TOTA - Part Six - His Future (ARC 1: The Present)
'There once lived a father, who was so strict, that he prohibited his children from many things.' We've heard of that story before, many times over. But how did he end up this way?
His children, three boys and one girl, are unhappy with his style of parenting so badly, they even feared returning home from school. They are now fed up with his constant dictating of almost every decision, however small, of their lives; his over-emphasis on education; and and his 'seizure' of their entertainment (from banning television to donating all of their toys to charity upon reaching their respective ninth birthdays). They are upset that the only people they are allowed to interact with outside their family are usually the more cultured, well-educated 'snobs' (who, nonetheless, understand them more caringly than their parents do). Worst of all, they are absolutely barred from even drawing or writing their own stories (unless if it is a school assignment), which instead starts to motivate them to wonder why (aside from turning them into workplace robots like him), and how, did their dad become the sad, tormenting (and tormented) father he is today.
His children, three boys and one girl, are unhappy with his style of parenting so badly, they even feared returning home from school. They are now fed up with his constant dictating of almost every decision, however small, of their lives; his over-emphasis on education; and and his 'seizure' of their entertainment (from banning television to donating all of their toys to charity upon reaching their respective ninth birthdays). They are upset that the only people they are allowed to interact with outside their family are usually the more cultured, well-educated 'snobs' (who, nonetheless, understand them more caringly than their parents do). Worst of all, they are absolutely barred from even drawing or writing their own stories (unless if it is a school assignment), which instead starts to motivate them to wonder why (aside from turning them into workplace robots like him), and how, did their dad become the sad, tormenting (and tormented) father he is today.
Sunday 5 October 2014
TOTA - Intermission 2 - Concerning Complaints
Dear Dad,
You are not alone -- some of those who had flooded my postbox with nasty mail seem to despise us because our works seem too "cliché". Since you've been asking me about whatever I've been doing on the past few weeks since I had moved out, I myself am also struggling with my recent writing career; and if you're asking me now on what I'm to do when these rascals come about (as they harassed many other authors before), I'm going to leave them be. If they're causing any serious harm, I'm going to report them over. Don't worry.
P. S. Can you please just calm down? I know that we all don't like clichés, but please know that it will always be impossible to escape every cliché in existince. I know that I may sound silly, but please be yourself. Don't let anyone stop you!
From your concerned daughter,
Felicia Priamus.
Monday 15 September 2014
TOTA - Part 5 - Operation Polophylax (Part 2)
Deep inside an enormous, ice-carved chamber of the vast Pagos Dome, beneath the encrusted frost, the parkas-clad Dr. Roland and his daughter had just finished packing up several black, heavy components of what appears to be a supercomputer into fifteen boxes, placing them into a large, round platform; hopefully, this would be another portal that can smash through the Jammers.
His daughter, Althea, having helped him maintain their lonely section of the long-abandoned Pagos Base, felt that now may be the right time to know what in the world is she and her father doing, what are the documents' plans for, and why.
"Dad, is it true that all of this is for the Irisium Project?" she said curiously, while hacking the Jammers with the portal's small dial. "I saw the words 'Irisium' in the Old Peregrinian from your documents."
"Of course, Alli." calmly replied her father. "We are doing it for the country's greater good."
"Good?!" Althea's face paled in shock. "It's a superweapon that is absolutely banned under the Peregrinian Constitution of 3154! No wonder why the cops had been after us when we left Peregrinium!"
Dr. Roland remained calm, as he charged the portal's power system, managing to successfully concentrate while plugging in its wires and setting up its geothermal generators.
His daughter, Althea, having helped him maintain their lonely section of the long-abandoned Pagos Base, felt that now may be the right time to know what in the world is she and her father doing, what are the documents' plans for, and why.
"Dad, is it true that all of this is for the Irisium Project?" she said curiously, while hacking the Jammers with the portal's small dial. "I saw the words 'Irisium' in the Old Peregrinian from your documents."
"Of course, Alli." calmly replied her father. "We are doing it for the country's greater good."
"Good?!" Althea's face paled in shock. "It's a superweapon that is absolutely banned under the Peregrinian Constitution of 3154! No wonder why the cops had been after us when we left Peregrinium!"
Dr. Roland remained calm, as he charged the portal's power system, managing to successfully concentrate while plugging in its wires and setting up its geothermal generators.
Sunday 27 July 2014
TOTA - Part 5 - Operation Polophylax
Deep in the dim streets, Detective Dwight Baker returns to his office, studying and discussing with his colleagues about evidence of the renegade Dr. Roland's whereabouts. They had just received a letter from a botanist who had sighted Roland at a nearby tenement complex, who quickly hid himself behind the door as soon as he knew that the botanist was watching and following him.
Inside, Roland rushed through the carpets, up three stairways, and into his home. His wife and daughter were preparing dinner for themselves. "Roland," said his wife, as she places a pot of bubbling carrot soup on the table, "why do you need to spend so much on your projects instead of helping us get out of the tenements?"
"They are necessary for our nation, madam."
"How?"
"You will have to find out yourself." he calmly replied, as he feasted on the steak and carrots as quickly as possible.
"What's the rush?" said his daughter.
"Not a matter."
After the meal, he cleaned his mouth, and rushed towards his room. His daughter watches him frantically open the shelves and cupboards, scurrying through clothing and knick-knacks, and placed several pieces of paper into his briefcase. She then enters, asking him:
"Dad, what's in those papers?"
"Business files."
"Can I help you retrieve them, Dad?"
"Then help me search for the documents with the National Seal on them."
He then placed a strange, blue, and round machine on the ground, and tapped on several black buttons.
"Plug the machine, Lisa."
Both of them, and Roland's wife, could hear poundings on the door.
"This is the police. We demand that Roland surrender to us, right now, or you will join Roland in custody."
Hearing this, Roland frantically shouted to his wife: "Stop them and help me, will you?!"
His wife instead opened the door, and led the cops towards his room. The room flashed with a blinding blue light. By the time both they, and Baker's crew, came into the room, Roland, his daughter, and the machine were gone.
"How did this Roland fellow manage to successfully hack through the jammer systems ... ?" murmured Baker, as he retrieved the few papers Roland and his daughter had left behind. He searched through the contents: "Pagos Military Base, Sector 2, Frigidum Territory."
On the next day, Mr. Baker and his colleagues had a meeting.
"Tomorrow," he said, presenting the papers, "we're boarding a Storm-Vessel to Frigidus. Any questions?"
One of his colleagues, who is Mr. Baker's assistant, raised his hand. "The Storm-Vessels were just built, but are not tested for resistance against the Tellurian Storm, which is much more vicious than any other blizzard in history. There is also the risk of sky-pirates swarming over the areas north of Frigidus, including Telluria. Also, the government has not authorized teleports within 600 miles of our borders, Mr. Baker, and the space transports are not available for investigative crews like us. How are we going to go all the way south to Frigidus through the Storm and the pirates as soon as possible?"
"We use another way: our Storm-Vessel flies to Kybos Island, and we will go island-hopping from there onwards." He typed his keyboard to show possible tunnels, passages, and portals into Frigidus and Pagos Base that are not under Tellurian, pirate, or Sonarian control. "Any one of these will become our destination. Commence Operation Polophylax!"
Aside from the longer timing, everything went to plan. That is, until they are at a point further away from Kybos Island, and nearer towards Frigidus, when they saw the black, wolfish sky-pirate skiffs hovering behind them. The crew readied themselves to fend off against the jetpack-flying pirates, who broke into the Vessel, demanding ransoms more quickly than Mr. Baker's assistant could even pull the rapid-o-lever. Nevertheless, only three out of Mr. Baker's crew managed to use the escape pods alive: Mr. Baker, his assistant Dr Edward, and Miss Rosalind.
There, Mr. Baker used a one-use-teleporter that was granted to him by the High Commissioner. But he did not use it to return to a base somewhere beyond the fringes of Peregrinium, but to instead teleport his party straightaway to the nearest military base to Pagos Base, past the Storm. In the process, the escape pod was destroyed, releasing a beacon that summoned Tellurian aircraft against the pirate skiffs and the hijacked Storm-Vessel.
They found themselves in a vast room, surrounded with still-functioning machinery whizzing, gurgling, and glowing all about, passing by and dodging robots eternally locked in mindlessly dangerous experiments. Unscathed, they afterwards walked out, navigating their way together towards whatever exit that is safe enough for them, and taking plenty of supplies with them.
While they traverse the passageways and chambers of the base, they collect evidence from the holograms and documents, hinting of supplying Peregrinum some kind of superweapon. This alerted the sentry guards, who furiously pursued and shot at Mr. Baker and his party, creating a lot of damage in the process.
They board into a robotic train, old and blackened with rust, with water occasionally splashing about the metallic sides around the heated tracks. As their train flushes out of the base, dashing its water to the walls and sides around it, and into the carved Frigidian landscape, they saw huge, imposing walls of ice gazing down cruelly at them. A gray sky loomed above, lashing howling winds that coursed the cliffs and drifted the gentle fall of snow.
The train goes up a waterfall of a track in a dark tunnel towards another clearing. There it is, Pagos Base. Its barb-wire fences have been worn away by ice, its imposing glass dome is half-buried, the rusted remains of one or two robots popping out of the snow here and there, and the lamps flicker about. But several lights have forced their way through the nearly-transparent snow, and through a certain door, indicating activity within the dome.
Mr. Baker and his crew then move on towards the dome, wanting to stop this threat of a possible superweapon from being realized.
Inside, Roland rushed through the carpets, up three stairways, and into his home. His wife and daughter were preparing dinner for themselves. "Roland," said his wife, as she places a pot of bubbling carrot soup on the table, "why do you need to spend so much on your projects instead of helping us get out of the tenements?"
"They are necessary for our nation, madam."
"How?"
"You will have to find out yourself." he calmly replied, as he feasted on the steak and carrots as quickly as possible.
"What's the rush?" said his daughter.
"Not a matter."
After the meal, he cleaned his mouth, and rushed towards his room. His daughter watches him frantically open the shelves and cupboards, scurrying through clothing and knick-knacks, and placed several pieces of paper into his briefcase. She then enters, asking him:
"Dad, what's in those papers?"
"Business files."
"Can I help you retrieve them, Dad?"
"Then help me search for the documents with the National Seal on them."
He then placed a strange, blue, and round machine on the ground, and tapped on several black buttons.
"Plug the machine, Lisa."
Both of them, and Roland's wife, could hear poundings on the door.
"This is the police. We demand that Roland surrender to us, right now, or you will join Roland in custody."
Hearing this, Roland frantically shouted to his wife: "Stop them and help me, will you?!"
His wife instead opened the door, and led the cops towards his room. The room flashed with a blinding blue light. By the time both they, and Baker's crew, came into the room, Roland, his daughter, and the machine were gone.
"How did this Roland fellow manage to successfully hack through the jammer systems ... ?" murmured Baker, as he retrieved the few papers Roland and his daughter had left behind. He searched through the contents: "Pagos Military Base, Sector 2, Frigidum Territory."
On the next day, Mr. Baker and his colleagues had a meeting.
"Tomorrow," he said, presenting the papers, "we're boarding a Storm-Vessel to Frigidus. Any questions?"
One of his colleagues, who is Mr. Baker's assistant, raised his hand. "The Storm-Vessels were just built, but are not tested for resistance against the Tellurian Storm, which is much more vicious than any other blizzard in history. There is also the risk of sky-pirates swarming over the areas north of Frigidus, including Telluria. Also, the government has not authorized teleports within 600 miles of our borders, Mr. Baker, and the space transports are not available for investigative crews like us. How are we going to go all the way south to Frigidus through the Storm and the pirates as soon as possible?"
"We use another way: our Storm-Vessel flies to Kybos Island, and we will go island-hopping from there onwards." He typed his keyboard to show possible tunnels, passages, and portals into Frigidus and Pagos Base that are not under Tellurian, pirate, or Sonarian control. "Any one of these will become our destination. Commence Operation Polophylax!"
Aside from the longer timing, everything went to plan. That is, until they are at a point further away from Kybos Island, and nearer towards Frigidus, when they saw the black, wolfish sky-pirate skiffs hovering behind them. The crew readied themselves to fend off against the jetpack-flying pirates, who broke into the Vessel, demanding ransoms more quickly than Mr. Baker's assistant could even pull the rapid-o-lever. Nevertheless, only three out of Mr. Baker's crew managed to use the escape pods alive: Mr. Baker, his assistant Dr Edward, and Miss Rosalind.
There, Mr. Baker used a one-use-teleporter that was granted to him by the High Commissioner. But he did not use it to return to a base somewhere beyond the fringes of Peregrinium, but to instead teleport his party straightaway to the nearest military base to Pagos Base, past the Storm. In the process, the escape pod was destroyed, releasing a beacon that summoned Tellurian aircraft against the pirate skiffs and the hijacked Storm-Vessel.
They found themselves in a vast room, surrounded with still-functioning machinery whizzing, gurgling, and glowing all about, passing by and dodging robots eternally locked in mindlessly dangerous experiments. Unscathed, they afterwards walked out, navigating their way together towards whatever exit that is safe enough for them, and taking plenty of supplies with them.
While they traverse the passageways and chambers of the base, they collect evidence from the holograms and documents, hinting of supplying Peregrinum some kind of superweapon. This alerted the sentry guards, who furiously pursued and shot at Mr. Baker and his party, creating a lot of damage in the process.
They board into a robotic train, old and blackened with rust, with water occasionally splashing about the metallic sides around the heated tracks. As their train flushes out of the base, dashing its water to the walls and sides around it, and into the carved Frigidian landscape, they saw huge, imposing walls of ice gazing down cruelly at them. A gray sky loomed above, lashing howling winds that coursed the cliffs and drifted the gentle fall of snow.
The train goes up a waterfall of a track in a dark tunnel towards another clearing. There it is, Pagos Base. Its barb-wire fences have been worn away by ice, its imposing glass dome is half-buried, the rusted remains of one or two robots popping out of the snow here and there, and the lamps flicker about. But several lights have forced their way through the nearly-transparent snow, and through a certain door, indicating activity within the dome.
Mr. Baker and his crew then move on towards the dome, wanting to stop this threat of a possible superweapon from being realized.
Saturday 26 July 2014
TOTA - Intermission 1 - Why Not Divulge?
Dear Dad,
Your stories are quite well-written, but most of them are about subverting clichés, and of authors, writers, fanbases, readers, and their dealings with each other. There's nothing wrong with twisting and re-inventing clichés, but why don't you write something more "ordinary"? You should write what you enjoy writing about, rather than waste a lot of time and effort "exterminating" clichés - it's an impossible struggle to escape the inescapable. In fact, if you continue to write the same sort of things again and again, you end up creating new clichés!
Don't you revile clichés, Dad? I know that your works will be "different", but why not make them variable? In that way, you can freshen up some literary genres, and gain more readers to inspire!
Or, it's best to just write what's comfortable for you, because that's what good authors (like you) do.
Yours truly, with love,
Felicia Priamus.
Your stories are quite well-written, but most of them are about subverting clichés, and of authors, writers, fanbases, readers, and their dealings with each other. There's nothing wrong with twisting and re-inventing clichés, but why don't you write something more "ordinary"? You should write what you enjoy writing about, rather than waste a lot of time and effort "exterminating" clichés - it's an impossible struggle to escape the inescapable. In fact, if you continue to write the same sort of things again and again, you end up creating new clichés!
Don't you revile clichés, Dad? I know that your works will be "different", but why not make them variable? In that way, you can freshen up some literary genres, and gain more readers to inspire!
Or, it's best to just write what's comfortable for you, because that's what good authors (like you) do.
Yours truly, with love,
Felicia Priamus.
Friday 25 July 2014
TOTA - Part 4 - The Student - Part 2: Aftermath
Cassandra. My worst enemy. The wretch who stole what I deserved: my popularity.
No one even bothers to respect us anymore, for our baddie star attitude and our disrespect towards those incompetent teachers and principals.
And we blame Cassandra for encouraging everyone in the school to ignore our "privileges". Yes, her and her Acorn-Chips band, strengthening themselves like rocks, and taking advantage of my shame to catapult themselves into my place, thwarting every attempt to sabotage them.
No one even bothers to respect us anymore, for our baddie star attitude and our disrespect towards those incompetent teachers and principals.
And we blame Cassandra for encouraging everyone in the school to ignore our "privileges". Yes, her and her Acorn-Chips band, strengthening themselves like rocks, and taking advantage of my shame to catapult themselves into my place, thwarting every attempt to sabotage them.
The Tale of The Author - Part 4 - The Student - Part 1: All The Way
"So many people say about the girl who overcame the bully. But what about the bully herself?"
And I was that loathsome person, Miss Tracy.
And I was that loathsome person, Miss Tracy.
Tuesday 10 June 2014
The Checklist
" ... Mirrors?"
"No."
"Plot twist report?"
"No."
"References?"
"Several."
"Characters unconscious?"
"Once, but not very important ... to the plot."
"Is your antagonist a feared king?"
"He is actually a liberator who cares for his folk."
"'Happy ever after's' and 'once upon a time''s?"
"No."
"Romance?"
(glares)
"Writer's block?"
"Yes."
(tears book)
"YOU! I'll give you 4 points out of 10, for bearing INTOLERABLE clichés. Now out with those clichés of yours! YOU better improve your stories, or I'll NEVER publish your work ever again!" ...! ...
"No."
"Plot twist report?"
"No."
"References?"
"Several."
"Characters unconscious?"
"Once, but not very important ... to the plot."
"Is your antagonist a feared king?"
"He is actually a liberator who cares for his folk."
"'Happy ever after's' and 'once upon a time''s?"
"No."
"Romance?"
(glares)
"Writer's block?"
"Yes."
(tears book)
"YOU! I'll give you 4 points out of 10, for bearing INTOLERABLE clichés. Now out with those clichés of yours! YOU better improve your stories, or I'll NEVER publish your work ever again!" ...! ...
Saturday 7 June 2014
Medals the Pony
Due to the sheer popularity of "pony books" on the Internet and TV, and his younger daughter's wild obsession with those "ponies", "horses", and their "caring girl owners", the author would like to have a go in his attempt to create a "pony book", spiced with chunks of humor ...
Friday 6 June 2014
TOTA - P2 - The Hero Sir Juste
Once upon a time, in a not-so-far kingdom, there lived a king. Upon discovering an old book that mentioned prophecies regarding his "lost" family in certain manorial farming villages, he then ordered some troops and physicians into these selected villages to encourage the locals to sign up for a royal blood test.
But only one of these villages had its reward. The Hero's father and his neighbors passed the test, and they and their families were forced to move to the Palace to live as princes and nobles. Their village was turned into a "free city", bringing in the dreaded wave of merchants and guildsmen to settle somewhere away from the manor, enough to be an annoyance for the locals.
The Hero, Juste, who was raised by the sneering Crown Prince Dukebox, forgot his father's heritage. Raised to believe that he will become an effective commander loved by the commoners (something most Princes were indoctrinated into before engaging military service or royal tenure), he became very arrogant and foolish.
Thursday 5 June 2014
"Tale of the Author - Part One - Beginning"
" ... The hero could not hesitate. The villain has confronted him at last, and without a word, aimed his poison crossbow at him. And the hero, blind in his pride, thought he could deflect his enemy's shots with his ancient sword, which he did as he ran towards the villain, hacking down several guards. But a few arrows penetrated through his armor, which he thought could always protect him: just a few inches towards his arch-enemy, the hero gasped and held his chest. The hero knelt down in his pain, allowing the villain a chance to quickly grab a knife, and 'finish' him. Later, another guard hurriedly arrived, saluted the villain, and reported that 'the treacherous princess has escaped, and now she is abducting our prisoners to be her slaves!' Without much ado, the surviving guards, the messenger-guard, and the villain himself then scattered to look for them ... "
Wednesday 4 June 2014
"The Continuists and the Successionists"
Once upon a time, there existed two groups of fans, the "Continuists", and the "Successionists".
The "Continuists". as they were named, wanted the Story to expand on its original content; be it a little story about someone else in the same setting, a little backstory, an explaination; they wanted more depth into its little world, to improvise the Story.
Their rivals, the "Successionists", wanted more Sequel for the Story. They want to see it continue, regardless of background information lack: however, high quality, and no "irrelevance" is still a must for each new Sequel.
Never mind the Preservatists and the Casualies, which overlap these groups at any time. The Conties and Suxies are the most important belligerents here ...
The "Continuists". as they were named, wanted the Story to expand on its original content; be it a little story about someone else in the same setting, a little backstory, an explaination; they wanted more depth into its little world, to improvise the Story.
Their rivals, the "Successionists", wanted more Sequel for the Story. They want to see it continue, regardless of background information lack: however, high quality, and no "irrelevance" is still a must for each new Sequel.
Never mind the Preservatists and the Casualies, which overlap these groups at any time. The Conties and Suxies are the most important belligerents here ...
Wednesday 14 May 2014
"The Teacher"
There once was a teacher named Mr. Urbitus. He has a bad habit of assuming "this student is this" and "this student is that", because of their behaviour and grades.
He once found that a certain young student's grades failed his expectations: he scored way lower than the rest of the class. With a deathly glare he said :
"You excuse of a student. Have you even studied hard? Why, I have spotted similar results last year, and they're now back to strike you. Why, what has gotten into your Swiss cheese of a brain such as yours? You will never be a success. You will be destined for failure and shame. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"
He slapped his poor student's face.
As he was one of only a few students who failed the yearly tests twice (some of his friends flunked it thrice) most of the class then mocked him.
"What's that? Fat in your brain?"
"Go concentrate on your studies elsewhere, loser."
"This school will not welcome failures like you!"
He ended up receiving more bullying incidences than before, and even worse and worse on had he ever dared to report to his teachers.
But sometimes, Mr. Urbitus unnecessarily interfered:
"Don't listen to him, gentlemen! Failures are not to ever be spared from their destiny!"
"Argh, Mr. Urby. You must be nuts."
"Please, Sir Roxas, just listen only to successes! They are the only ones who are fit to run the world, no?"
And rotten old Mr. Urby was suspended for a week.
Some of those who bullied the poor boy were expelled afterwards.
Years later, the same boy became into an artist, drawing the most fantastic paintings his town has ever seen.
He overcame years of bullying and spite, refusing to let his past overwhelm his skills.
Unfortunately, on one disaster-ridden year, when his business had been stolen from him, he was robbed of so much money, his family died in a train accident ...
His past came back to haunt him, as he reconsidered, is this true of what my teacher said?
In fact, one of the letters came from "an old friend", when he sent letters for advice, responded, "Everyone has a destiny; it can't be changed, friend. Those who succeed in life always succeed, while those who fail in life will always fail, never succeed at all. Deal with it!"
So after considering some things, trying his best but always failing due to his being overlooked by the same buyer of his business (and possibly the thief?), he committed suicide, depressed after following some self-help guide.
When the teacher got wind of this, he shrugged. "Failures always fail."
"But what of Albert Einstein then? Or Thomas Edison? Or Walt Disney?"
"They're born successes."
"But they make many mistakes, people don't trust them, blah blah blah. But they ended up as successes, rather than become as foolish as this boy you 'condemned', idiot."
"People are wrong, nature is right. I don't trust failures like you."
"What have you gotten in your mind? Madness? Cuckoo birds nesting in your head?!"
"Eugenics."
"This guy must be crazy. If people did bully them so badly, and yet they continued defying expectations, becoming the successes people remember. What are these people like, idiots?!"
"Yes. They should know that if society initially thinks of them as failures, they will be failures. Bullies are societies' judges. Respect them, and they respect you, even if they will beat you up. Fail them, and they will always attack you, and 'haunt you to the ends of the earth.'"
"Only natural-born successes are successes. I am one of them."
"Tell me, Mr. Urbitus Congruent. Have you ever been bullied before? Has anyone ever labelled you a failure?"
"Yes."
"I was also like that, and I was even a bully myself once. I nearly even drove a kid to suicide -- "
"Good for you!"
" -- stop interrupting, meaningless jerk! Now I'm the self-hating, pitiless jerk of a man, a CEO of a company of clowns, such as you. And you're the worst of these clowns! Now tell me, who taught you that nonsense?!"
"My dad."
"What did he work as? A charismatic loser, such as you?"
"An aristocrat."
(skip 2 hours' worth of conversation)
" ... And now, Mr. Urbitus Congruent, I fire you."
"Get out of my company, you ... you ... whatever. Just don't come back!"
He once found that a certain young student's grades failed his expectations: he scored way lower than the rest of the class. With a deathly glare he said :
"You excuse of a student. Have you even studied hard? Why, I have spotted similar results last year, and they're now back to strike you. Why, what has gotten into your Swiss cheese of a brain such as yours? You will never be a success. You will be destined for failure and shame. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"
He slapped his poor student's face.
As he was one of only a few students who failed the yearly tests twice (some of his friends flunked it thrice) most of the class then mocked him.
"What's that? Fat in your brain?"
"Go concentrate on your studies elsewhere, loser."
"This school will not welcome failures like you!"
He ended up receiving more bullying incidences than before, and even worse and worse on had he ever dared to report to his teachers.
But sometimes, Mr. Urbitus unnecessarily interfered:
"Don't listen to him, gentlemen! Failures are not to ever be spared from their destiny!"
"Argh, Mr. Urby. You must be nuts."
"Please, Sir Roxas, just listen only to successes! They are the only ones who are fit to run the world, no?"
And rotten old Mr. Urby was suspended for a week.
Some of those who bullied the poor boy were expelled afterwards.
Years later, the same boy became into an artist, drawing the most fantastic paintings his town has ever seen.
He overcame years of bullying and spite, refusing to let his past overwhelm his skills.
Unfortunately, on one disaster-ridden year, when his business had been stolen from him, he was robbed of so much money, his family died in a train accident ...
His past came back to haunt him, as he reconsidered, is this true of what my teacher said?
In fact, one of the letters came from "an old friend", when he sent letters for advice, responded, "Everyone has a destiny; it can't be changed, friend. Those who succeed in life always succeed, while those who fail in life will always fail, never succeed at all. Deal with it!"
So after considering some things, trying his best but always failing due to his being overlooked by the same buyer of his business (and possibly the thief?), he committed suicide, depressed after following some self-help guide.
When the teacher got wind of this, he shrugged. "Failures always fail."
"But what of Albert Einstein then? Or Thomas Edison? Or Walt Disney?"
"They're born successes."
"But they make many mistakes, people don't trust them, blah blah blah. But they ended up as successes, rather than become as foolish as this boy you 'condemned', idiot."
"People are wrong, nature is right. I don't trust failures like you."
"What have you gotten in your mind? Madness? Cuckoo birds nesting in your head?!"
"Eugenics."
"This guy must be crazy. If people did bully them so badly, and yet they continued defying expectations, becoming the successes people remember. What are these people like, idiots?!"
"Yes. They should know that if society initially thinks of them as failures, they will be failures. Bullies are societies' judges. Respect them, and they respect you, even if they will beat you up. Fail them, and they will always attack you, and 'haunt you to the ends of the earth.'"
"Only natural-born successes are successes. I am one of them."
"Tell me, Mr. Urbitus Congruent. Have you ever been bullied before? Has anyone ever labelled you a failure?"
"Yes."
"I was also like that, and I was even a bully myself once. I nearly even drove a kid to suicide -- "
"Good for you!"
" -- stop interrupting, meaningless jerk! Now I'm the self-hating, pitiless jerk of a man, a CEO of a company of clowns, such as you. And you're the worst of these clowns! Now tell me, who taught you that nonsense?!"
"My dad."
"What did he work as? A charismatic loser, such as you?"
"An aristocrat."
(skip 2 hours' worth of conversation)
" ... And now, Mr. Urbitus Congruent, I fire you."
"Get out of my company, you ... you ... whatever. Just don't come back!"
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