Friday, 14 April 2006

DISMORALIZED!

[Other installments of Sekocom, Inc. games include DISADVENTURE!, DISADDENDUM!, DISMORALIZED!, DISINSOMNIA!, WHARTON!, GRADING!, DISBELIEF! and DISCONVENTION!.]

Copyright (c) 1980, 1982, 1983, 2006 Sekocom, Inc.  All rights reserved.
DISMORALIZED! is a registered trademark of Sekocom, Inc.
Revision 23 / Serial number 8940726

> work on dissertation

You go to the batting cages with a friend.  You hit well until the gods punish your impertinence with thunder and heavy rain.

> in southern california?

I don't understand that.

> no shit

I don't understand that.

> work on dissertation

You spend six solid hours slaving away at your dissertation.  You have written three quality pages.  Were your back not permanently hunched by your labors you would pat yourself on it.

> do something

I don't understand that.

> do something not dissertation related

I don't understand that.

> do ANYTHING not dissertation related

I don't understand that.

> write funny blog

You write and delete one lame post.

> write FUNNY blog

You will never match the heights you unwittingly climbed on Wednesday. 

> WRITE FUNNY BLOG

You write and delete another lame post.  You do what you can and write a funny COMMENT.  There is a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. 

> write funny BLOG

There is a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen.

> WRITE FUNNY BLOG

THERE IS A PILE OF DIRTY DISHES IN THE KITCHEN.

> order cat to clean dishes

Your cat cocks its head quizzically and looks at you.

> request cat clean dishes

Your cat cocks its head quizzically and looks at you.

> write funny blog then

The novelty of your original post wears thin.  Your readers decide to frequent other blogs instead.  No one reads you anymore and you are alone.  There is a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. 

> plead with ca

YOUR CAT WILL NOT DO THEM.  YOU WILL NOT WRITE FUNNY BLOG TONIGHT.  DO NOT COMPEL ME TO PUT AN ELVISH SWORD OF GREAT ANTIQUITY BEFORE YOU.  YOU WILL REGRET IT. 

Apr 14, 2006 9:14:42 PM | Academia, Books, Dissertation, Evolution, Weblogs

3 Comments

Adam Kotsko

Be careful -- you're probably going to get a "cease and desist" from the Zork people if you keep this up.

Posted by: Adam Kotsko | Saturday, 15 April 2006 at 11:40 AM

Scott Eric Kaufman

Or an invitation to work for 'em! I seem to have a gift for this, which is good. I need something to fall back on if this whole academic thing doesn't work out, and what could be more bleeding edge than a job in the computer gaming industry?

Posted by: Scott Eric Kaufman | Saturday, 15 April 2006 at 04:03 PM

History Geek

Hey I'm still laughing.

*G*

Posted by: History Geek | Tuesday, 18 April 2006 at 07:19 PM

The comments to this entry are closed.

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DISADDENDUM! [Other installments of Sekocom, Inc. games include DISADVENTURE!, DISADDENDUM!, DISMORALIZED!, DISINSOMNIA!, WHARTON!, GRADING!, DISBELIEF! and DISCONVENTION!.] Copyright (c) 1980, 1982, 1983, 2006 Sekocom, Inc. All rights reserved. DISADDENDUM! is a registered trademark of Sekocom, Inc. Revision 23 / Serial number 8940726 You are sitting at a desk. It has recently been used to write a dissertation. A door leads to a closet. To the east is a litter box which needs to be cleaned. There is two day old brownie on the desk which smells of cat urine. A book is open on the desk. > read book You read it yesterday. > I did? I don't understand that. > you wouldn't I don't understand that. > work on dissertation You write 500 words. > work on disseration You erase 500 words. > work on dissertation You open your aggregator and read BoingBoing. On it you see an earwax removal kit, shoes made out of a keyboard, and a link to Life of a Writer as a Zork adventure. > look earwax removal kit You look at the earwax removal kit. It is fascinating and Japanese. > look shoes made out of keyboard You look at the shoes made of a keyboard. They are like normal shoes but they are made out of a keyboard. > look life of writer as Zork adventure You are standing in an open field west of a familiar white townhouse, with a boarded front door. There is a small mailbox here. > s That is a bad idea. The biannual Grue company picnic is today. Corporate will be there. > s Have it your way. You are behind the familiar white townhouse. In one corner of the townhouse there is a window which is wide open. > climb in window You are in the kitchen of the familiar white townhouse. A table seems to have been used recently for the preparation of food. A passage leads to the west, and a dark staircase can be seen leading upward. To the east is a small window which is open. On the table is an elongated brown sack, smelling of hot peppers, the remains of a sandwich, and a clove of garlic. > eat garlic That should help mask the smell. > smell the smell From the study wafts the smell of decayed flesh and pooled blood. > w You are in the study. In it is a desk, a laptop, piles of books, an Elvish sword of great antiquity, and your dead body. > look elvish sword of great antiquity It is elvish and of great antiquity. You hear a grue climb in the open kitchen window. > take sword Taken. > e You are in the kitchen. The window is open. The grue must have heard you and scuttled out the window. You will not be so lucky next time. You really should leave before he returns with his grue friends. > w You are in the study. In it is a desk, a...
PREVIOUS POST
On the Art of Finishing a Chapter & Other Minor Abominations About said art I know little, having finished a whopping two to this point. As I refine the document on the right side of my screen by retyping the unpolished nonsense everywhere apparent in the draft open on the left, I'm consistently struck by the inelegance of my prose. Will a reviewer one day argue for the usefulness of my work "despite its minor abominations of style," as Francis Sumner once said of Vernon Kellogg's. Will he or she say the style of the work is seriously marred by the cumbersomeness of many of the sentences. The writer tells us how thoroughly he has delved in the German evolutionary literature of the day. And of this his own style bears abundant witness. The pages abound in lengthy and involved sentences, and parenthetical clauses, so much so as to threaten with aphasia the unfortunate one who many venture to read them aloud. (495) Will he or she laugh when I write "a paragraph of twenty lines, constituted by a single sentence, composed of 17 words and containing two parentheses." And while he or she is "mentioning these petty blemishes," will the "frequent dissonances in the word combinations employed . . . 'curiously nearly completely subjective'; 'more or less nearly entirely'; 'influence of extrinsic influences,' followed by a third 'influence' in the same sentence; 'readily directly'; 'practically generally'" among them, fall before my hypothetical reviewer's sharpened wit? If I don't spend the next 48 hours vigorously revising, I fear all signs my Magic 8-Ball returns will point to a perpetual "Yes."

Scott Eric Kaufman

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