Archive | September, 2010

A Dream

27 Sep


JERRY, 27, blonde and scruffy sits on the top shelf of a mahogany cabinet, behind the glass doors. He clutches an ipod and taps his toes to a tune that cannot be heard. Sitting next to Jerry is SUSAN, his sense of self-worth. Susan is small and shiny and flat on three sides. They sit in silence for three minutes. Jerry stretches and taps on the glass in front of him.


Do you suppose we could break this glass, Susan?


It is not out of the realms of possibility.

Jerry presses the glass experimentally.


I think I could break it. Do you suppose the glass would shatter nicely, or do I risk cutting my arms on potentially jagged edges?


The prospect of your cutting yourself frightens me. Listen to another song and stop thinking so hard.

Susan glows purple briefly, then reclines, resting her main limb against a bottle of whiskey. Jerry makes a face that looks like he’s thinking about a dream he had, in which a GIRL HE BARELY KNEW reclined in his arms while both of them ignored a teacher. If only her friend hadn’t whisked her away from him, perhaps he would’ve said hello. Jerry is jerked from his lapse into prose by the batteries of his ipod dying. Susan shakes her head, smiling slightly.


I’m going to break the glass.


I certainly hope you’re happy with the results, whatever they may be.


Will you follow me?


I may.


Then break this glass I shall.

Jerry punches the glass with all his might, and glass flies everywhere in slow motion. The sound of rationality is thrown against wet cardboard. Jerry slumps forward onto the cream carpet, wrists slashed. He slowly bleeds to death. Susan watches sadly.


But Jerry, the cabinet was never locked. You should’ve asked that Girl He Barely Knew to stay.

Susan fades into smokey darkness.


New Story Is New

21 Sep

A large castle made of colourful building bricks is being bombarded by plastic projectiles. Several walls of the castle are knocked down before the whole construction tumbles to the carpet. Sitting a few metres from the wrecked castle is CHARLIE, a wide-eyed, tousle-haired 4 year old. He is dressed in primary colours, a wizard’s cape covered in stars, and a toy fireman helmet. Charlie is playing in a large room, with boxes of toys lining one wall, a long pink couch against another, and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase against a third wall. Charlie inspects the rubble of his defeated castle and then runs off to the toy boxes. After checking in a few boxes, Charlie selects one and drags it into the middle of the room, near his building bricks. He unpacks a dump truck, a crane, a handful of little people in construction gear, a wizard figurine, and a large, plush dragon. Charlie balances the wizard figurine on the back of the dragon, and sets the pair up facing the building bricks. He then sets about rebuilding the castle; he pretends to use the crane and moves bricks around with the dump truck.

A doorbell rings, but Charlie does not look up from his game. The voice of JULIE, Charlie’s mother, can be heard, welcoming someone into the house. Julie, mid-thirties and dressed in a glamorous evening dress, enters the playroom with NANNY. Nanny is in her sixties, has steel-grey hair, and is wearing a hideous, floral-print polyester pant-suit. She clutches a heavy carpet bag, which she drops next to the couch as she passes. Charlie still does not look up from his game. Julie tries to get Charlie’s attention, coaxes him into saying hello to Nanny, and sighs as Charlie returns to his game. Nanny and Julie talk briefly about Charlie’s bedtime, and Julie insists that Nanny calls her at the first sign of trouble. Julie hands Nanny a mobile phone. Charlie looks away from his game and sees the phone. His eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly as he watches Julie show Nanny how to use speed dial. Julie tells Nanny to keep it in her bag or pocket, but Nanny says she won’t be able to hear it if it rings in her bag or pocket, and puts it on the top shelf of the bookcase. Julie shrugs, gives Charlie a last minute reminder to be good, kisses him on the head, and thanks Nanny for looking after him.

Charlie has four toy boxes open around him, and is still building his castle. The castle is taller than him sitting down. He keeps glancing at the bookcase, then at Nanny, who is dozing off on the couch. Charlie keeps building his castle, but starts to make sure he is extra quiet, moving bricks very gently and watching Nanny from the corner of his eye. Soon, Nanny is snoring quite loudly, and Charlie stands up, and determinedly walks to the bookcase.

Charlie jumps on the spot a few times, then bends low and tries to jump and reach the shelf with the phone on it. He is much too short.

The mobile phone sits on the bookcase. A plastic shovel appears, scrabbling at the shelf. The shovel is withdrawn, and the body of a ukulele appears, once again scrabbling at the shelf, making plinky noises.  After a pause, the ukulele is withdrawn too. The head of a hobby horse appears, scraping against the shelf. None of the objects are quite long enough to reach over the shelf. Charlie is standing at the base of the shelf, hands on his hips, with a collection of ‘long’ toys at his feet, including the ukulele, shovel, and hobby horse.  Charlie looks thoughtful for a moment, then he frowns determinedly, mounts his hobby horse, and gallops out of the room. Nanny continues to snore.

Charlie sets up four piles of heavy textbooks at the base of the bookshelf. He lies flat on the floor and squints to check the piles are even.  He slides a magazine under one pile, surveys his work from a few angles, and then leaves the room. Charlie comes back with a wooden chair. He awkwardly moves the chair so that each leg is resting on one of the piles of books. Using another textbook as a step, Charlie climbs up onto the chair. His fingers brush the shelf with the phone, but he is still too short. Charlie wrinkles his nose, and climbs off the chair.

There is a montage of shots of Charlie walking across the room, each time with armfuls of stuffed animals.

Charlie empties a toy box, and glances as Nanny, who is still snoring. Charlie places the upside down box on top of the chair and begins to climb up onto the very wobbly construction. Kneeling on the toy box, Charlie carefully starts to stand up. He makes a hesitant reach for the top shelf and the phone is just out of his grasp when the box wobbles violently and Charlie crashes down, landing on a huge pile of stuffed animals. Charlie looks furious, and punches the nearest cuddly animal in the nose.

Charlie is lying on his stomach, surrounded by his half-built castle, a toppled chair, piles of stuffed animals, all sorts of heavy textbooks, and brightly coloured crayons. He is clutching a crayon and scrawling on a big scrapbook. He draws a wobbly see-saw with a box on one end and a stick figure with a fireman’s helmet flying off the other end, looks across at the still-snoozing Nanny, then up at the mobile phone shelf. He bites the top of the crayon off, chews on it, and scowls at the shelf.

Charlie drags a wooden plank into the room. Some of the stuffed animals squeak as he drags the plank over them. Nanny is undisturbed. Charlie runs out of the room, and returns with a tin of Milo. Charlie lays the Milo tin in front of the bookcase, then sets the plank on top of it, like a see-saw. Charlie picks up one of the textbooks and stands on one end of the see-saw. He breathes deeply, then lobs the book onto the other end of the see-saw. The book bounces off the plank and lands on a stuffed animal. Charlie blinks a few times, runs out of the room. What follows is a quick montage of Charlie gritting his teeth and dropping various items onto the other end of his see-saw; a watermelon, a bowling ball, a rock, a cat, all to no success. Charlie stands on his see-saw clutching a fishbowl, complete with goldfish, and holds it at arm’s length, about to drop it. He watches the fish for a moment, sighs, and sets the bowl down on the floor near his half-built castle.

Charlie sits next to the fish resting his face in his hand and staring at the bookshelf. He sniffles and swallows, and his eyes sparkle with tears. The tin of Milo is open in front of him, and he licks his hand then sticks it into the tin. He eats the Milo off his fingers, then flops onto his back, his eyes shut tight, only just visible in the debris of the playroom.

Charlie opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling. It is a high, loft ceiling with timber beams running along it. Charlie frowns, but his eyes widen slowly as he stares at the beams. Charlie leaps to his feet with renewed vigour, and runs from the room. Nanny snuffles in her sleep, and her dentures slip over her bottom lip.

Charlie stands, hands in fists resting on his hips, and his hair and cape billowing heroically. Looped around one arm is a long skipping rope (two tied together, for length). Charlie unwinds his skipping rope, faces the bookcase, and twirls the rope like a lasso, before letting it fly up and over one of the beams. Charlie grasps the end of the rope firmly, and gives it a tug. The other end is tied across his chest in a cross, like a harness. Pulling the end of the rope with all his might, Charlie’s feet lift off the ground. Charlie hoists himself, straining, struggling not to slip. Soon he is dangling from the ceiling at eye level with the phone on the shelf. Triumphant music swells as Charlie reaches for the phone, and his fingers close around it.


  1. Julie comes home, finds the room is completely trashed, covered in Milo and fruit and books. Nanny is still asleep. Julie sighs, hand covering her eyes in exasperation/despair. She enters Charlie’s bedroom to find him curled up asleep with a huge smile and his hand clutching the mobile phone.


2. Charlie is back on the ground, gleeful, and inspects the phone. After a few moments of pressing buttons and holding it to his ear, he drops it to the floor and goes back to building his castle.

Legitimate Confusion

21 Sep

I have not posted in a long time. This is due mostly to how pitifully slow my internet has been running. It takes me a freakin’ age to load a single page, so gathering enough content/scanning and uploading stuff for a post has been severely hindered. I am cross about this.

I am in desperate need of an idea for a good short film. I hate hate hate the one I submitted for my treatment assignment. It is literally a NOTHING story. NOTHING happens. NOTHING is learned. NOTHING is gained. And NOTHING happens in an entirely UNIRONIC and MEANINGLESS way. It’s not even like I can claim artistic merit from building some deep and meaningful NOTHING story. It’s just lame.

Damn, right?

But I shall remedy it somehow. I used to have an imagination. I’m sure it’s still in there somewhere, buried under chemistry… Man, my degree has a lot to answer for… lack of social interactions, loss of creativity, ever-growing debt and insanity….

Ah well. It’ll all be over soon. Just 4 or 5 more years…



9 Sep

So, I had a dream last night that I was given the opportunity to write the laws of the universe.

I know, big responsibility.

The writing process involved a scrap of paper torn from an exercise book, a small committee huddled in a classroom overlooking Union Court (which was filled with people playing music and socialising), and a blue pen that was running out of ink. The committee and I decided that the fewer rules, the better. In the end, we managed to design one rule that we thought would ensure that everyone in the world be ultimately happy. That rule was this:

For every bad thing that happens to a person, two good things will happen to them.

No one in the world would know we’d made this rule. No one would be able to figure out the pattern. People who suffered lots would find themselves having wonderful little reminders of happiness. Everyone in the world would die more happy than sad.

After we submitted this idea, I went down to join the gathering on the lawns, so I don’t know what the fallout of the rule was. Got me thinking though… If you had the power to introduce ONE overarching rule to improve life for everyone, what would it be? Remember, they can backfire… I was afraid that if people figured out we’d made this law, they’d stop aspiring to anything. Or worse, they’d start bringing bad things on themselves deliberately to reap the happiness that would inevitably follow.

I don’t know. Was I overthinking/overdreaming it?

Ah well. Back to study.

But have a song:

And The Credible Adventures page is now slightly updated! Check it out, let me know what you think!


8 Sep

This is hell itself, but it looks quite lovely. Chemistry tends to be like that.

It looks like a spacey drug trip... but it's actually a Weissenburg Plot.


6 Sep

Chem Escape Sketch

5 Sep

What A Weird Thing To Google…

5 Sep

Something I Like Ironically

3 Sep

I actually prefer the ballad version, but I can’t find a decent video of it…

English Class

2 Sep

Here is everything I achieved in English yesterday.

Note; The first is a found poem, I just wrote down interesting things people said and they started to look poemish.


Cool kids love washers, yo

Click me.