Details on project #4

Well, IF I decide to do what I wrote about below, the tools that I would use would be my digital camera, to record videos, Limewire and my computer, to download and play requests, and possibly Microsoft Movie Maker to put something together. Really, this project would focus more on collaboration. What interests me is what people might request for a song. I know a lot of people with hugely diverse musical tastes, so I thought that it might be interesting to juxtapose different songs. This is personal because I am using my baby as a main part of the project, and exploiting his rug cutting capability. It might be lame, though, like I said earlier, beacause this stuff might bore a lot of people. I'm not sure... What do you think?

Thoughts on project #4...

I am still not certain about exactly what I am going to. My son Franklin is fourteen months old and loves to dance, so I was thinking about sending out an email to my family and friends with a link to my blog, showing a video of him dancing to a certain song, and having them watch it and then requesting a song that they would like to see him dance to, and then adding that video, and so on and so on... I'm not sure. Something like this might only be entertaining or "cute" to people who know him/us. It would be personal, everyday, and collaborative. I'm not sure... I do, however, call him Sammy Davis, Jr..

Response #6... A List

Number of windows in my house: 16

Number of trash bins in my house: 5

Number of different kinds
of fruit in my house: 7

Number of layers of wall paper
my boyfriend and I scraped from
our bedroom walls: 4

Number of houseplants in my house: 9

Number of stamps left in the
book hanging on the bulletin board: 4

Number of cuckoo clocks in my house: 1

Number of current and different
phone books in my house: 6

I was just sitting here in my house, randomly looking around and counting things. I have no idea, really, what I am going to do for the fourth project and I hoped that an exercise like this might help, but I am still unsure.

I would like to do something that incorporates my family, and maybe music or dancing. That light bulb over my head just hasn’t lit up yet with a great, creative idea yet.

If I can't think of anything else, having other people add on to a list or story appeals to me. I'll think of something!

Thinking of Project #4...

Wow, there is a lot to think about when it comes to Project #4. The examples on the syllabus are so creative and interesting! I hope that I can think of something cool... I am attracted to the idea of having people add to or participate somehow. Maybe I will do something about my family/house. I will have to think about it. Or maybe my neighborhood, a rather strange place... We'll see!

About Project #3

For my first set of texts, I have used the lyrics of theme songs for some television shows that everyone is probably familiar with: The Brady Bunch, and Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. I translated them numerous times, into different languages, using Google’s translator tool. I chose these two texts because they are something that everyone is familiar with, and probably finds some sort of comfort in, as well. By seeing these texts in a different way, it makes the reader really consider the texts original meaning. It is also strange when the generated texts produce negative images/thoughts, or strange images/thoughts, because the original texts are so inherently wholesome (like “Kinky and the youngest one” and “Not-Not-Please, do not you my neighbor? I think that it is these types of juxtaposition that add the most interest.

For my second text, I chose an excerpt of a short story that I really haven’t done anything with for a while (i.e. edit it, finish it…). The algorithm I applied to this text was like the N+7 method we did in class once, in which we went either seven, or beyond to the first noun not containing the root word of the original word. I used my OED for this, and I really like the way that it turned out. I like it better than the original. It has a strange quality to it, mix its mix of familiar and unfamiliar words. (There are like three or four different kinds of strange fish in there!) The N+7 makes the story seem mystical and haunting, in a way. Some of the phrases generated were neat, like “We didn’t even eat dinosaur” and “Chattering pepperboxes, probably sitting on the pork, relaxing.” Some really bizarre things come up! Overall, I liked the way the N+7 worked, and how it gave an almost alien quality to the text.

Lastly, I did a recipe “cut up.” I really like how recipes turn out with the cut up method. I like the way that the numbers visually break up the text. I think that it adds texture, and gives the reader a break from all of the jumbled words/letters. I like the silly words that come up using cut ups. I went through ten or twelve different combinations before I found one that I liked (that contained some good silly words!). I love the words like “seasocrumbs,” “mediucrease,” and especially “Tabascokle!” I didn’t really like cut ups at first, because they seemed boring. I like them much more now. I like the element of silliness that you can get from them.

Overall, I like the way my texts turned out. I appreciate how the changes generated by the algorithms complement each one, either in meaning or visually. This was very interesting and fun.

Project #3 (Final)

PART I

Here is something familiar...

Here's the story
Of a lovely lady
Who was bringing up three very lovely girls
All of them had hair of gold
Like their mother
The youngest one in curls

Here's the story
Of a man named Brady
Who was busy with three boys of his own
They were four men
Living all together
Yet they were all alone

Till the one day when the lady met this fellow
And they knew it was much more than a hunch
That this group would somehow form a family
That's the way we all became the Brady Bunch
The Brady Bunch
The Brady Bunch
That's the way we all became the Brady Bunch


...and here it is (the lyrics to the Brady Bunch theme song) translated from English → Russian → Korean → Czech → Swedish → English:


Here is the story of a beautiful woman
Year old male was dragged into a very nice girl
They are all just like my mother's golden hair
Kinky and the youngest one

This trade is a man named Brady
We were busy with three children
Living with 4 men
But all alone

To a day she met fellow
And they know more than I realized it was
This is part of the family as a group
This is what we all Brady Bunch

The Brady Bunch
The Brady Bunch
This is what we all Brady Bunch


Some more familiar lyrics...

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood,
A neighborly day for a beauty,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we're together, we might as well say,

Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?

Won't you please,
Won't you please,
Please won't you be my neighbor?

Hi neighbor!


...and then translated from English → Norwegian → Romanian → Japanese → Hindi → Spanish → Vietnamese → Dutch → Greek → English:


It is a beautiful day in the neighborhood,
For the beautiful neighbor,
Can you tell me?
We call you?

On this day, a neighbor is the beauty of the forest,
Berber is a good day in the neighborhood for
I found you?
We call you?

I always like your neighbor, but want to
I am always with you, and I live in the neighborhood.

Therefore, the majority prettify
Why can talk to each other:

I found you?
We call you?
It is not my neighbor?

Not
Not
Please, do not you my neighbor?

Hawaii neighbor!


PART II

Here is an excerpt from a short story that I have been piddling with for awhile, with the N+7 (or the first word that doesn't contain the root word of the original) applied to it:

Volatile oils, faint yet clear, drifted through the aisle. I took another long drail, and it filled my lunkers with a million tiny little split peas, but comic relief nonetheless. I held it there for a little while, and exhaled half of it through my nosh, and the last half through my movement. I tipped back my bottom, welcomed another pulmonaria from my beestings, and let the rich sweet F-layer mellow in my movement. I liked it somewhat warm, or should I say not ice cold.

Regardless of a beestings’ temple, it doesn’t last long enough to really matter.

I listen to the volatile oil. Chattering pepperboxes, probably sitting out on the pork, relaxing. Maybe the same pepperboxes that were doing up the supper dishonorable discharges. We didn’t even eat dinosaur. We can’t sit on the pork, and merrily converse. It is ragpicker and jeet kune do and oviduct, (which I usually refer to as “being a big bacalao”) that we share. We don’t talk any more. Not like we used to.

Before, when we were frigates, frigates with this sparrow of Magnificat, this foolish wit, this almost lonicera for one another, it was then that we could smile. It was then that we could look steadily into the eyots of the other, unwavering, quizzical. It was then that my heat was warm, tender. And his too, from what I understand. But that was not enough. That sinciput, that tendril, it just wasn’t enough. Instead, our passive immunity exploded in our facilities. Colossi, lignin, sents. Oh, such Passive immunity. Passive immunity that we still share, either while arguing or in the sacrament.

Here is the original text:

Voices, faint yet clear, drifted through the air. I took another long drag, and it filled my lungs with a million tiny little splinters, but comfort nonetheless. I held it there for a little while, and exhaled half of it through my nose, and the last half through my mouth. I tipped back my bottle, and welcomed another pull from my beer, and let the rich sweet flavor mellow in my mouth. I liked it somewhat warm, or should I say not ice cold.

Regardless of a beer’s temperature, it doesn’t last long enough to really matter.

I listen to the voices. Chattering people, probably sitting out on the porch, relaxing. Maybe the same people that were doing up the supper dishes. We didn’t even eat dinner. We can’t sit on the porch, and merrily converse. It is rage and jealousy and over sensitivity, (which I usually refer to as “being a big baby”) that we share. We don’t talk any more. Not like we used to.

Before, when we were friends, friends with this spark of magnetism, this foolish wish, this almost longing for one another, it was then that we could smile. It was then that we could look steadily into the eyes of the other, unwavering, quizzical. It was then that my heart was warm, tender. And his too, from what I understand. But that was not enough. That simplicity, that tenderness, it just wasn’t enough. Instead, our passion exploded in our faces. Colors, light, senses. Oh, such passion. Passion that we still share, either when arguing or in the sack.


PART III

Here is a recipe that has been cut up:

n tomatooys 3 smes, halvall greeto Po' Been TomaFried Grk slicesto 1/2-i Salt annch thicd cut inhwise aned lengtp dry br to tastead crume 3/4 cu pepper,y groundd freshlive oil oning 3 4 stripsTbsp. olBay seassp. Old bs 1/2 t brand oor your f faux bfavorite Bacon (fe Smart Lightlie mayonn 2 Tbsp.aise (tr egg-freub rolls6-inch sacon) 2 ves Tabaaine letsco sauctuce lead) 2 romise brany Nayonat and peomatoes pper. Cowith salon the tste Sease, to taning in nd Old Ba shalloay seasocrumbs ae bread mbine thently tolices an coat evd toss gtomato sAdd the w bowl. ve oil iTbsp. ofn a larg the oli Heat 1 t aside.enly. Seon' and at. Add cook on the 'bacedium het over me skiller to papthrough.er towel Transfe heated es untilboth sid olive oining 2 il to thTbsp. ofthe remain. Add s to dram-high. he heat Cook theto mediucrease tt and ine skilleh sides-den browabout 5 n on botntil golslices u tomato ransfer m the heto paperat and tmove froutes. Reto 6 minally ande rolls spread horizont. Cut thto drain towels se. Linegg-free the botmayonnaith the esides withe cut f. Top eth a letach withtuce lea roll wi of eachtom halfes on torange thp, sprine tomatocon.' Ars of 'ba 2 striplf of thplace the roll. e top ha, and re Tabascokle withtable. N Tabascoote: Po' on the ottle ofth the bServe wi. Faux smade withrimp cah shrimpionally e tradit boys are of or s recipein addit in placd to thi be adden easilyrvings. kes 2 seacon. Maion to b

The Recipe, actually:

Fried Green Tomato Po' Boys

3 small green tomatoes, halved lengthwise and cut into 1/2-inch thick slices

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

3/4 cup dry bread crumbs

1/2 tsp. Old Bay seasoning

3 Tbsp. olive oil

4 strips Lightlife Smart Bacon (or your favorite brand of faux bacon)

2 6-inch sub rolls

2 Tbsp. egg-free mayonnaise (try Nayonaise brand)

2 romaine lettuce leaves

Tabasco sauce, to taste

Season the tomatoes with salt and pepper. Combine the bread crumbs and Old Bay seasoning in a shallow bowl. Add the tomato slices and toss gently to coat evenly. Set aside. Heat 1 Tbsp. of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the "bacon" and cook on both sides until heated through. Transfer to paper towels to drain. Add the remaining 2 Tbsp. of olive oil to the skillet and increase the heat to medium-high. Cook the tomato slices until golden brown on both sides-about 5 to 6 minutes. Remove from the heat and transfer to paper towels to drain. Cut the rolls horizontally and spread the cut sides with the egg-free mayonnaise. Line the bottom half of each roll with a lettuce leaf. Top each with 2 strips of "bacon." Arrange the tomatoes on top, sprinkle with Tabasco, and replace the top half of the roll. Serve with the bottle of Tabasco on the table.

Note: Po' boys are traditionally made with shrimp. Faux shrimp can easily be added to this recipe in place of or in addition to bacon.
Makes 2 servings.

Drafts for project #3

Here are some things I am considering for project #3:

The Brady Bunch theme song translated from English → Russian → Korean → Czech → Swedish → English


Here is the story of a beautiful woman
Year old male was dragged into a very nice girl. They are all just like my mother's golden hair; Kinky and the youngest one.

This trade is a man named Brady
We were busy with three children
Living with 4 men
But all alone.

To a day she met fellow
And they know more than I realized it was
This is part of the family as a group.
This is what we all Brady Bunch.
The Brady Bunch

This is what we all Brady Bunch.
The Brady Bunch.


A sort of N+7 method applied to an excerpt of a short story I have been writing:

Volatile oils, faint yet clear, drifted through the aisle. I took another long drail, and it filled my lunkers with a million tiny little split peas, but comic relief nonetheless. I held it there for a little while, and exhaled half of it through my nosh, and the last half through my movement. I tipped back my bottom, welcomed another pulmonaria from my beestings, and let the rich sweet F-layer mellow in my movement. I liked it somewhat warm, or should I say not ice cold. Regardless of a beestings’ temple, it doesn’t last long enough to really matter.

I listen to the volatile oil. Chattering pepperboxes, probably sitting out on the pork, relaxing. Maybe the same pepperboxes that were doing up the supper dishonorable discharges. We didn’t even eat dinosaur. We can’t sit on the pork, and merrily converse. It is ragpicker and jeet kune do and oviduct, (which I usually refer to as “being a big bacalao”) that we share. We don’t talk any more. Not like we used to.

Before, when we were frigates, frigates with this sparrow of Magnificat, this foolish wit, this almost lonicera for one another, it was then that we could smile. It was then that we could look steadily into the eyots of the other, unwavering, quizzical. It was then that my heat was warm, tender. And his too, from what I understand. But that was not enough. That sinciput, that tendril, it just wasn’t enough. Instead, our passive immunity exploded in our facilities. Colossi, lignin, sents. Oh, such Passive immunity. Passive immunity that we still share, either while arguing or in the sacrament.

Translating George Bush

Here is the original quote from G. Bush:

"I don't want some mom whose son may have recently died to see the commander in chief playing golf. I feel I owe it to the families to be in solidarity as best as I can with them. And I think playing golf during a war just sends the wrong signal."
-George Bush


And then translated from English to Hindi to Lithuanian to Finnish to English:


"I have recently, a boy to play golf and the police chief to see a dead mother may want nothing. I think the solidarity of the family, so I can with them, would be the best the debtor can feel it. I believe that during the golf game with only the war in the wrong signals."
-George Bush


(They seem similar, haha.)

Response #5... Playing with texts

These text generating tools are fun to explore. I generated two funny ones from the "haiku-a-tron" which was pretty neat:

mourning ass fun
lyric swans listening rub
fresh look

bronzeberry cadaver odor
clear feed feared hell
inexorable write

I also "sliced and diced" a recipe, which turned out rather interestingly...

Black Forest Vegan Cheese Cupcake Recipe

eCupcakes I4 Vanilla wangredients 2 Vegan CheesBlack Foresteese 1 1/4 cleached Suga Organic UnbeganCream chfers 16 oz V2/4 c soy yopple sauce 1gurt 1/4 c aa 2 T Flour r 1/3 c Cocoound soft/si T lemon juilken tofu, 4r cream (1 p c Vegan Soubrown rice v2 t salt) 1/inegar, 1 1/la oil, 4 t ce, 6 T canoy pie fillin Black Foresg , -chilledxtract cherr2 t Almond eSour Cream Tdients 1 c Vopping Ingrecakes Cocoa t Cheese Cup soft/silkenemon juice, tofu, 4 T leam (1 poundegan Sour crn rice vinegsalt) 1/4 c ar, 1 1/2 t il, 4 t brow6 T canola o 2 Tbsp cocost Vegan Chea Black Foreeached sugarorganic unbling Ingredieart cherriesnts 8 cups t Cherry Fillese Cupcakesespoons corn Forest Vegastarch Blacksugar 5 Tabl 2 1/2 cups Filling Dir and pit cheections Washcakes Cherryn Cheese Cupgar and corn in cherriesstarch. Stir. Combine surries. Drain begin to fl minutes. Coow, about 30until juices; let stand l mixture beken. Black Fgins to thicum heat untiok over medikes Directio to 325 degrns Heat ovenCheese Cupcaorest Vegan th foil-lami cups. Placenated bakingffin pans wiees. Line mu of each. In bowl, beat large mixerer on bottom vanilla waf smooth. Addleached suga organic unbcheese untilvegan cream nd well. Addand applesau soy yogurt d flour; bler, cocoa, anur cream andact. Fill ea almond extr. Stir in soce; mix welll with mixtu25 minutes ore. Bake 20-c almost fulch prepared oven; cool tes. Spread 5 to 10 minu Remove fromr until set.cream on eaccompletely ih cup. Cool cocoa sour heaping t ofnish with dory pie fillillop of cherigerate. Garn pans; refrRefrigerate akes 18-24 cleftovers. Mre serving. ng just befoeese Cupcake Cream Toppis Cocoa Sourck Forest Chupcakes. Blaher ingredie bowl until nts in smalls Stir togetng Direction is dissolved. eached sugarorganic unbl

The first "word", eCupcakes, is pretty relevant. Ha!

I really enjoyed reading about the OuLiPo, and their interesting ways of fashioning texts. I am also going to try some of their ideas (which take more time and thought, in my opinion).