adelphi_rocks
06/14/06, 10:23 PM
So i remembered Matt (Stereo Therapy) saying something about starting a thread where you share your school work, i figured i would start one.
This is a Schematic Model based on a scene in the book 1984. I recently did a Multi-Genre paper on Hunter S. Thompson, and I thought I would share it, i'll probably post more stuff, but Windows Vista is being really slow right now...oh, the quote at the bottom is part of the thread i used to connect the paper together.
1971
For some time he stood plotting carefully. The room service tapped patiently at the door. It was curious that he had yet to spend a dime on this. For some time past he sat at the typewriter contemplating the events of the past few days. All he had to do was report what he had witnessed. At this moment, however, all he could think of the disillusionment going on all around him. Moreover, his experiences here had riddled him, the sight of so many dreams of miscarried fate. The acid was relapsing. The seconds ticked by. He was conscious of nothing but flashing of images of war across the television screen and smell of week old room service and the itch spreading over his entire body as he broke into a fierce sweat. Suddenly his fingers began to dance across the keys as if they had been choreographed, they knew what to type, even if his mind was just a pile of useless thoughts running into a river of mindlessness.
“It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top.”
This is a Schematic Model based on a scene in the book 1984. I recently did a Multi-Genre paper on Hunter S. Thompson, and I thought I would share it, i'll probably post more stuff, but Windows Vista is being really slow right now...oh, the quote at the bottom is part of the thread i used to connect the paper together.
1971
For some time he stood plotting carefully. The room service tapped patiently at the door. It was curious that he had yet to spend a dime on this. For some time past he sat at the typewriter contemplating the events of the past few days. All he had to do was report what he had witnessed. At this moment, however, all he could think of the disillusionment going on all around him. Moreover, his experiences here had riddled him, the sight of so many dreams of miscarried fate. The acid was relapsing. The seconds ticked by. He was conscious of nothing but flashing of images of war across the television screen and smell of week old room service and the itch spreading over his entire body as he broke into a fierce sweat. Suddenly his fingers began to dance across the keys as if they had been choreographed, they knew what to type, even if his mind was just a pile of useless thoughts running into a river of mindlessness.
“It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top.”