Excellent suggestions…this is a rough draft and I believe it has unlimited potential. I knew I could count on you :)
Thanks
Short Story / United Nation's Island (Analysis)
Our national image is suffering. I do not understand the entire picture. I try. I read an array of books in attempt to educate myself on both side of an issue. The knowledge flirts with my mind, teasing me with a false sense of understanding and by the next book I’m back to being confused. I can’t connect all the dots.
My father, in his early seventies, has had his fill of politics. I.e., we were talking about the 2008 Elections:
“I think they should round up all the politicians in the world and put them on island; let them battle it out amongst themselves and leave the rest of us out of it.”
I laugh.
He reminds me that he has more life experiences than me.
I stop laughing. I decide to play with his idea instead.
Can you imagine? What if the United Nations (fed up with the pushing and shoving in the world) called upon the collective power of citizens from every country (that are tired of the pushing and shoving) to come to a majority vote (of the human race) and ask the minority of world leaders (that would rather swallow blood than pride) to step back. The United Nations could sponsor a political camp, something like a really bizarre game of “Survivor”, and continents would be required to field a team from their collective countries. Think of it: Citizens from all over the world would have a voice. Who would they exile on an island?
Can you imagine? What would America do? Not known for being quick on our feet in response to disaster, we would probably forget Canada and not invite Mexico. It’s true. We can be a self-absorbed nation; proving over and over it is difficult to show self-restraint in a country as prosperous as ours. I think it would go something like this:
Script: United Nations Island
Theme: Political Reconditioning
Prize: Creating Children of Peace
Run Time: Indefinite
{The house lights dim and a single spotlight centers on a solemn Soprah sitting center stage of the studio’s stage. Soprah won the vote of North Americans to be the exclusive reporter for coverage of “United Nations Island”. Soprah smiles, preparing the audience for her opening.}
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to our special broadcast of a sneak-peek at “United Nations Island” due to air next week on Fox.” Soprah takes a cleansing breath.
{A video clip of military U-boats appear on the screen behind Soprah. The cameraman kept his distance not allowing the hordes of people jumping from the bobbing boats to be identified. The outlines of their bodies can be seen swaying in the current as they are forced to walk another twenty feet in wet sand and seaweed. Soprah clears her throat and prepares to explain the awkward exodus on the screen.}
“After a top-secret journey through clandestine waters, representatives from six continents and over 150 countries were dropped off on a beach with only a map, a backpack and a machete to aid in the passage through the dense jungle to their camp.” Soprah takes another breath. “Up next, meet the North American Committee Chairman and learn more about the mandated political camp.”
{Flash to a newsbreak where a pretty young woman is bouncing on the edge of her chair and is very cheerful.}
“Hi! Everything is fine. I just want to congratulate Las Vegas on their latest electric bill. See, changing over to the energy saving light bulbs makes a huge difference. Good job! Now, back to your show.” The young girl signs off with a wave.
{Soprah has been joined by a man and they are seated in leather chairs in the middle of the stage.}
“Welcome back.” Soprah smiles only slightly; it’s a serious episode. “In addition to the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights as the first world-wide constitution guaranteeing human rights to all people regardless of borders, the United Nations has recently implemented a social experiment that is two-fold. One, they were able to create an alter society so governments could continue to test their individual ideology and, two, in their absence from their respective nations a ‘Cease Fire’ has been called giving everyone a reprieve from major conflict.” Soprah takes a drink of water after the long speech. “With me today is Mr. Smith who chaired the North American Planning Commission.”
{Everyone claps for the stoic man dressed in a cheap blue suit and red-patterned tie. He doesn’t smile. He sits very still staring blankly at the camera. It intimidates the audience and they stop clapping.}
“Welcome, Mr. Smith. Please break down the concept of United Nations Island?”
“Well, each continent formed a committee that was charged with the duty to create a nomination process that would produce a 50 member team to compete at United Nations Island.”
“How did you determine the number of representatives from each country?”
“Uh, by population and land mass…it turned out to be a huge mathematical equation.”
“You don’t know, do you?” Soprah catches Mr. Smith unprepared. The audience holds their breath.
“No, not really.” Mr. Smith flushes and cops to his crime briefly before justifying his slip. Soprah makes Mr. Smith nervous. “But, that wasn’t my area.”
“What was your area?”
“I handled the balloting process. I drafted the initial survey to narrow the field of candidates and provide the people of North America with an idea of what would produce a competent team.” Now, Mr. Smith is scared and trying to please Soprah.
“And?” Soprah was relentless.
“Then, the voters were asked to name either an elected official or public figure that would best fit a particular profile.”
“For instance?”
“For instance, the top ten qualities people wanted to see in their candidates, top to bottom, were leadership, intelligence, integrity, restraint, military experience, athletic, business-minded, models good self-discipline, a Christian and a woman.”
“A Christian? A woman? How do these things compare to the other qualities?”
“They don’t fit, but there were enough write in votes for both we felt obligated to add them to the ballot.”
“Can you reveal the members of the North American team?”
“The team’s hierarchy has been established. I can reveal those team members at this time.” Mr. Smith looks nervous again. “Well, at first the polls showed an overwhelming support for Arock Obama, but the United Nations favored him for the Foreign Relations Committee and, to make a long story short, we’re in litigation to get him back. The incumbent commander was next in line so he will be our team leader.”
“Really? He came in second?” Soprah did not hide her surprise.
“Yes. Voters were required to list a minimum of ten politicians. For the most part, we kept seeing the same six or seven names. I don’t think the majority of the citizens could name ten.”
“Really? That’s a little frightening.” Soprah laughs more nervous than amused.
“It gets worse. There weren’t any blind studies. Hell, we were all just hoping for the best, but the whole balloting process ended up being a popularity contest and the sum of our parts doesn’t come together naturally.” Mr. Smith has relaxed; relieved to finally unburden his opinions.
“How so?”
“I don’t think people understood what ‘public figure’ meant. I don’t think they took into consideration it is a political reconditioning camp with an intense agenda.”
“Why?”
“Well, a couple of the Commander’s staff members were nominated. There is Dick Beanie and Helleza Rice. I think they’ll align with the Commander. And, there’s Mallory and Deal Clinton to keep things balanced. Thankfully, Rollin Powel filled the “military” slot because he tends to mediate well with everyone.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Initially it looked okay until the remaining forty slots ended up reading like a Who’s-Who list at a red carpet event. We even made suggestions on different fields of study that could benefit a political, roundtable discussion. We didn’t get one economist, scientist or even psychologist?”
“Will they need a psychologist?” Soprah was concerned.
“After a month or so, I think they might.”
“So, who do we have on our team?”
“Musicians, comedians, actors, socialites…”
“Socialites?”
“Really, only one. She won in the category of the ‘person most needing to be humbled’ and, ironically, that was the tightest race.”
“Can you share any of the remaining team member names?”
“The network wants to withhold the names. They’re hoping the mystery will encourage more people to watch the show.” Mr. Smith gives Soprah a conspiratory look. “I can say Chad Pitt received the most votes from all the countries. The panel decided to give Mr. Pitt immunity. Everyone felt his presence would be too great a distraction on such a small island.”
“Interesting.” Soprah smiled and thanked Mr. Smith. “We’re out of time, but be sure and tune in next week for the two hour premiere of ‘United Nations Island’. Goodbye for now.”
{Fade to black}
{The sounds of waves rolling off rocks builds in volume and two pair of bare feet lightly kicking at the waves gradually come into focus. The camera slowly zooms out until Lon Stewart and Helen are seen standing at the water’s edge.}
“We are so screwed.” Helen is worried. She is babbling. “Why on earth would anyone think I would want to be a part of this. People say they like me and then, ‘this’!”
“It’s a violation of our civil liberties.” Lon looks shell-shocked. He still cannot believe what has happened.
“Kiss said they found a loophole; something about the Patriot Act. We tried to find it, but it is a long report and very boring.”
“I still can’t believe it. Last thing I remembered was telling the dog to shut-up only to wake up and find myself tied to Kiss Rocks and Benny Chesney on an oil rigger.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the worst of it. I was voted to fill the ‘political analyst’ profile. It makes me wonder who is watching my show.”
“It’s going to be okay. Someone has to have a plan. Where did everyone go?”
“They went to talk to Dono at Europe’s camp.”
Helen searches the crowded tree-line where people have molded their worn bodies against the bending trunks of the palm trees. She spots the men in the shadows throwing sticks at coconuts and grab’s Lon hand and walks in their direction.
“What did you find out?” Helen keeps her voice low.
“Quite a bit.” Benny reaches back over his shoulder and rubs his neck. He contemplates his words carefully. “Well, first, we are getting the impression that France came just to kick our ass. Dono says they keep going on and on about it, so they put their tents on the border of Asia’s camp. That’s good because it narrows the spots we will need to keep an eye on.”
“But, that’s not all of it.” Kiss’ eyes sparkled as he tells the story. “I was talking with a guy from Vietnam and he told us that North Korea refused to play.”
Donda Sykes joins the group. She is followed by a frightened HeyLo.
“You all are not going to believe how happy Japan is…the rest of Asia is pretty laid-back, but Japan is really happy. And, let me tell you I don’t think Australia is feeling all the giggling and stuff so close to their tents. I’m waiting for Brussell Crowe to go ‘Gladiator’ all over them.” Donda’s eyes were expressive and animated.
“Do you think there is anyway we can get him on our team. He lives in the states part of the time? Doesn’t he?” Benny looks to Kiss for an answer.
“No. It doesn’t matter. Picole Kidman already tried to come over and was refused.” Kiss turns to HeyLo. “What did you find out?”
“Most of Latin America is very sad. They live a quiet, peaceful life. Why do they have to pay for the actions of a few bad people?” HeyLo’s voice is quiet, cheerless.
“They shouldn’t.” Helen is sad now.
“Why should any of us pay?” Lon is very sad.
“Is he okay?” Donda eyes Lon suspiciously. “You know the Tibetan team is set up in the middle, maybe we should take him there. They can shower him with Karma or something?”
“Can’t.” Benny was calmly rubbing the back of his neck again. “We have to head out to the Immunity Challenge in ten minutes.”
“Oh good Lord, are you telling me there are more challenges? I thought the Reward Challenge was a gimmick. A really sick gimmick, but a gimmick all the same.” Helen is nervous again. “I mean how can ANYONE here be qualified to control import and export rights? How can they even offer that as a prize for a canoe race? Really? The challenges aren’t a gimmick?”
“No.” Benny is still calm. “We’re lucky Africa won and divided the rice equally.”
“I can’t believe those rotten s.o.b.’s are going to keep making us perform for food. Like it isn’t bad enough we are stuck on this suck-hole island.” Kiss joins Helen and Lon in being indignant.
“Please, tell me there are rules to all of this.” HeyLo is putting her best foot forward, but she still appears frightened. “We won’t have to fight people, will we?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Benny consoles the group. “Come on, let’s go find the Commander.”
“I sent him on an errand with Heiress Hilton.” Kiss smiled for the first time.
“That was over two hours ago. Where did you send them?” Benny eyed Kiss suspiciously.
“I think they are still trying to find Antarctica’s camp.” Kiss’ smile turned to giggles.
“Antarctica doesn’t have people. Its too damn cold.” Donda doesn’t catch the joke.
“Smooth.” Benny slaps Kiss on the back. “I’m forming an alliance with you.”
Handerson Cooper was ambivalent about his responsibilities to host and interpret the rules of the camp to its participants. Initially, Pill Reilly had been appointed to the position of Ambassador to the Nations, but there had been a lot of trouble at the Reward Challenge…things were said, insults began to fly and the majority of the participants called for an emergency meeting to vote Pill off the island. Handerson had been summoned and immediately promoted to Ambassador on the beach while the wet participants slowly wandered back to their camps. Handerson had deduced a long time ago this experiment would produce more chaos than compromise. It had began when the North American team had volunteered to supply the Immunity Idol, a Native American Rain Stick. Handerson was not alone in shaking his head that the chosen icon of victory came from a culture the government had diminished and then, forgotten. It was just one of many enigmas that had kept Handerson awake all night as he sorted through the rosters and rules. Still, the tall stack of files he had memorized did not prepare him for the sight he saw unfolding on the beach.
The silhouettes appeared as dark stripes on the white beach building in numbers until the narrow strip of land was filled with hundreds of eerie shadows trudging their way towards him. Handerson was at a loss of words and walked towards the camera crews.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please find your way to the bleachers.” He pointed to the newly constructed grandstands. “Everyone, it would be helpful if you sat with your continent.”
The response he received was pathetic.
“Okay, we have just a few announcements before we get started.” Handerson studied the messages on his clipboard. “A reminder that there is to be no inappropriate language in the center of the camp.”
“Where?”
“The Tibetan area is the safe place, a refuge so to speak. You might want to consider this place as you would a church, mosque or temple?” Handerson glanced back at his clipboard.
“Which one is it?”
“It is all of the above.” Handerson noticed the crowd was beginning to stir.
“How can that be?”
“People that is why we call it the safe place. It is a quiet, private place for anyone to go worship.” Handerson tried to find the people asking the questions, but there were too many of them crowded together to be sure.
“You expect us to worship together?”
“No. We expect everyone to respect the individual practice of worship. That is why there is a call for sensitive language at the safe place.”
“Define sensitive language?”
“No cussing or remarks that would offend a person of any faith.” Handerson took a deep breath and prayed for patience.
“So, there is no talking in the safe place?”
“You can talk just choose your words carefully.”
“How do we choose our words if we don’t know which ones we can use?”
“Oh for crying out loud people, is this really that difficult to understand?” Handerson had shocked the group with his outburst and used this to his advantage to finish with the announcements. “Also, there is no touching, taunting or teasing…”
“In the safe place?”
“In the safe place and anywhere else.”
“What will happen to us if we do?”
“You will be sequestered in isolation for an amount of time equitable to the offense.”
“In the safe place?”
“I’m done!” Handerson tossed the clipboard to the ground and proceeded to the rules of the upcoming challenge.
The Immunity Challenge was a degradingly dirty obstacle course where the North American team lagged. Everywhere participants could be heard muttering under their breath: “I will not seek re-election!”
The Commander did really well on the run, but had to wait for the rest of the team to do the puzzle. Each team was required to ask 20 questions from World History to gain the key that unlocked the floating puzzle pieces from their anchors at the bottom of the ocean. This is where the North American team fell apart. Dick was cussing and Helleza had to soothe egos as Rollin completed the quiz.
Australia was laughing really loud unconcerned with their lack of progress. Japan had gotten them drunk on rice wine; that had been their strategy. Iran was instrumental in securing the victory for their team and a lot of people became frightened at their newly acquired power and began to cry. Several bystanders began to question the high number of engineering and weaponry questions on the quiz. At the verge of chaos, Handerson received word to send the teams to the caves. They would hold Tribal Council immediately.
Tribal Council was hell. All anyone wanted to do was complain. They had started the challenge during evening prayer and most everyone agreed that it was a total lack of respect of a sacred ritual.
“Listen up people, we can’t all talk at once.” Handerson used his quiet voice to calm the crowd. “So, by a show of hands, how many want to start the challenges two hours earlier?”
It barely passed. Now challenges would be played in the heat of the day…during nap time. Some people weren’t happy with the change and the ‘nay-sayers’ lit their cigarettes.
“I know we are all still acclimating ourselves to this game, but I need to remind everyone there is no smoking in the caves.” Handerson could be counted on to follow the rules.
Now, Europe was especially ticked-off and curse words bounced off the rocks as they put out their cigarettes.
“Before we get to the vote, I need to go over the fraternization rule one more time.” Handerson looked at Italy long enough to tip everyone that this pertained more to them than anyone else. “Do not leave your camp after dark.”
A long string of Italian came out in one defensive breath and the translator looked frustrated. “He said he did not go anywhere.”
“Well, Morocco saw him hanging out around the girls tent and did not appreciate it. Will you pass that on to him, please?”
“It is immoral to treat women in such ways.” A thick, unrecognizable accent floated from the back of the cave.
“I do not treat women…I love women!” The Italian’s voice held laughter as he spoke perfect English.
“Oh good gracious, can we move past this?”
“Certainly Commander, if I could just have the Immunity Idol.” Handerson dropped his head at the confused look he received.
“I can’t recall where it was put? Helleza?” The Commander was confused; Rollin looked embarrassed.
“They did not forget it. They want to avoid the humiliation of loosing it to another country.” France seemed to be, in perpetuity, very bitter. China offered to make a new one…for a price. Venezuela had already made their own and was playing a game of hot-potato with Cuba in the back.
“You were told to bring the Idol with you tonight.” Now, Handerson was embarrassed.
Lon still wasn’t himself and was laughing uncontrollably with Fancy Grace at their dejected team. Dick chastised them: “No one is safe from the vote tonight.”
“Really? Well, maybe you should be worried. I wasn’t the one that had to have a girl help me over the wall.” Lon turned and exchanged high-fives with the Thailand participants.
“Shut up.” Dick was not amused.
“You shut up.” Lon only laughed harder.
“You should make them row back and get it.” The German participants were no-nonsense.
“I think Mallory should have to row back and get it.” Ruby Giuliani offered a solution.
“Why me?”
“Because you were the one that had everyone building a village; that is the reason we forgot it.”
“That is so unfair. If you MEN could have handled building a fire I wouldn’t have found it necessary to delegate the chore of the shelter. How difficult is it to understand you can start a fire faster with a pair of eyeglasses than you ever will beating rocks together. Cavemen!”
“Can’t we just bring it tomorrow?” The Commander waved his arms in the air to get Handerson’s attention. Helen and Donda mimicked him behind his back as their giggles grew.
“Are you too good to row and retrieve that which you forgot to bring?” Again, a French accent taunted the Commander.
“Can you make him hush up?”
“What are you afraid of? The dark? American cowards.”
“France, please hush.” Handerson turned to Saudi Arabia. “And, it would help if you stopped encouraging this behavior.”
“Bullocks, people! Do you really need a piece of drift wood to know that you have been victorious?” The Brits looked bored with the conversation and unloaded their thermos.
“We do not need your wood. We know we are superior.” Only one Iranian spoke; the others had not been given permission.
“So, you are fine with someone from the North American camp bringing it to you tomorrow?”
“Of course.” The same Iranian man agreed to the solution.
“Do you understand your duty at Tribal Council tonight?” Handerson continued to move forward with the ceremony.
“We are to banish one member of another country to Exile Island where they will be subject to public humiliation and shame on national television.”
“And, you understand that eliminating someone here will be the beginning of a new tribe that could eventually rise up and oppose you?”
“Que?”
“What?”
“I thought we were to be voted off the island?” It was the first time the Russian team had spoken. Everyone sounded alarmed.
“Folks, folks, calm down please.” The translators took another lengthy drink from their flasks while Handerson tried to calm the masses. “This game is for world domination. We can’t let anyone back into the world until we resolve that. Did everyone read the fine print of their contracts?”
“My countrymen want to know why the contract was printed in English?” Pakistan showed no emotion whatsoever.
“Because we paid for it.” Dick couldn’t stop himself from interjecting.
“Who do you choose for Exile Island?” Handerson redirected the crowd again.
“Switzerland.”
“Why?”
“I like Sven’s watch.”
“You know you do not inherit his belongings?” Handerson felt compelled to define the rules.
“I am aware of this, but he told me I could have it if I voted him off.”
“That’s cheating.”
Handerson shakes his head as the unassigned voices began to grow in volume and numbers.
“Bastard.”
“Nobody is very fond of this game!”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before…”
“Can I be excused? I want to go to the safe place.”
Handerson drops his head in his hands. The interpreters take another drink.
{Fade to black}
Why study history?
I was not taught world history from the perspective of the world communities that suffered through it. In fact, my high school history text books fed me the belief that Americans were all-powerful and unfailing in their endeavors. I think this is partially responsible for my fractured view of world affairs.
Paul Gagnon (a history educator after retiring from the University of Massachusetts became a passionate advocate of improving K-12 history studies in American curriculums) wrote: “To study foreign affairs without putting ourselves into others shoes is to deal in illusion and to prepare students for a lifelong misunderstanding of our place in the world.”
College history was refreshing; instructors were more honest about national behaviors. It was at this time I was introduced to a litany of writers that delved head first into American ideology and where those particular thoughts carried our country. Theodore H. White (journalist, correspondent, author and Nobel Prize winner for Literature with “The Making of a President”) wrote: “America is more of an idea than a place.”
America as an idea: We are a country that was founded on the common sense of such virtuous concepts of liberty, equality, justice and personal freedom. White’s observation is a sensible deduction still as America culturally, religiously and politically has become even more diverse than our melting pot origin.
So, if this is our team, why can’t we come together? With such an unending assortment of inspiration our unique collection of citizens presents, one would think we would advance with the advantages the varying perspectives bring to our nation. This is where I need help connecting the dots. Because, from what I have witnessed, anytime we honor the cultures that comprise our nation, we subsequently honor the homeland of these rich traditions and worlds are brought closer together.
It bothers me our national image is suffering. My gut wrenches to see our flag burn. Old Glory is much more than a patriotic emblem to me. But, mostly, it’s frustrating because I know of too many American institutions and their volunteers that live above the ignorance and the anger. I have read story after story of people who sincerely want and work towards international peace and healing.
Five hundred years ago many world inhabitants knew little about the people that existed outside their villages. I can see how communication might be stilted in this environment. But, presently, we have the technology available to transport people physically or through cyber-land thus, presenting most people with the opportunity to learn history face-to-face. And, still, there seems to be more conflict than compromise. Why?
Two weeks ago I went to the World Beat Festival in Oregon’s capital city. I was walking across the dry lawn of Waterfront Park glancing at the photocopied map of the village subdivisions of the festival when I noticed the brightly-colored shirts of children playing near a tent at the far end of the field. I thought I recognized the dance they were doing and walked towards them.
“Hello! Would you like to try?” Large, cocoa eyes politely addressed me.
“Are you tinikling?”
“Yes.” The child of eight or nine smiled broadly. “Do you know how?”
“I learned how when I was about your age…” I watched the child respectfully bow out of our conversation and call to his friend.
“Come, a lady wants to dance?” He grabbed two bamboo poles and placed their six foot lengths gracefully on the ground in front of him. I knew then I would do it. The decision to test my memory and my coordination was still up in the air, but the invitation to be a child among children was too great to resist.
“Alright gentlemen, I will try, but go slow at first.” I made eye contact with both of the boys and they smiled and nodded at me.
Tinikling is a Philippine dance where two bamboo poles are placed twelve inches apart and parallel to one another. Two people create a sound and a rhythm by clapping the poles twice on the ground and then raising the poles inches off the ground to clap them together twice more. The end result is two beats, hesitation, two beats. The dancer’s challenge is to time the opening and closing of the poles and move your feet in and out of the bamboo without getting tapped by the bamboo. It’s fun, but it was a bit more challenging than I had remembered. I was laughing and breathless after just a few minutes and nearly fell over when the boys playfully tapped me with the poles.
“Hey! I get a ‘do-over’. You guys picked up the beat on purpose.” I faced-off with the little jokers.
“What is a do-over?” The boys did not know.
“It means I get another chance to do it right.”
“This is a convenient thing.” The warm cocoa eyes that had greeted me now, considered me seriously.
“Yes, it is.” I sat down on the ground next to him. “Where are you from?”
“The most beautiful place…Zimbabwe.”
“Africa.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“Have you been there?” The child seemed pleased with my response.
“No, but I have read a lot of books about African countries. I would love to go there someday.”
“You should come to Zimbabwe.” The boy’s words were matter-of-fact.
“It makes sense I should go to the most beautiful place.”
“Yes, it does. Are you ready to dance?”
“I don’t think so. This old body of mine is tired.” I feigned fatigue, but the boy only smiled at me.
“You are not old; you are American. Americans like to have fun.” It was interesting how the child perceived our country.
“Yes, Americans like to have fun and old Americans, like me, enjoy a good shade tree and a nap.” I was rewarded with another beautiful smile.
I chatted with the boy a bit longer before moving on to another exhibit. The exchange had been less than fifteen minutes, but it left an indelible impression on me.
I have read of Zimbabwe. I know of their hardships; the poverty, AIDS, civil conflict, oppression. I thought how nice it would be if they could have a “do-over”. I remembered the boy’s mature assessment that a second chance to have things right was a “convenient thing”.
Later, the same day, I caught the show of Mawungira Enharira, an award winning group of musicians, playing instruments they re-mastered themselves. Mawungira Enharira means ‘Echoes of Nharira’ named for the sacred mountains in the village of Norton, Zimbabwe, where the group originates. The six men played instruments invented over 1,000 years ago while speaking and singing about their cultural heritage. The show ended with a spiritual healer moving among the crowd dancing and praying with people. What an image…strangers taking a break from the ordinary and willingly submitting to the beauty of a different world.
Here’s one American’s idea: What if we collected the hours politicians spent ‘talking about’ one another and, instead, devoted that block of time to communications with a country where government subjugation has demanded the citizen’s silence. Can you imagine the number of dots we could connect?
And, since I am dreaming, could we start with Zimbabwe? I travel for peace and it would be really helpful for me (and my like-hearted countrymen) to feel safe to journey into the world again. I would love to go to Zimbabwe; I am curious what the ‘most beautiful place’ looks like.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
lostthunder reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
the only thing i really see wrong with this is the transition between the question and answer of studying history and moving into a story about the young children. the story itself is nice, but it doesnt seem to fit the rest of the piece. the point that was being driven on page (not sure this helps) 14-15 was a solid one that went with the satirical feel of the “screenplay” of my newest favorite TV show. haha.
the entire story is very well written, and it all makes sense in and of itself. and i love the last few lines and the nearly poetic feel to it. “and since i am dreaming…” is a great line anyway.
as far as spelling and grammar, i personally didn’t see much wrong. perhaps it’s because it’s written much like people talk, with a few larger words thrown in. can’t keep everything simple. anyway, overall i enjoyed this, and though i too wish for this sort of peace to happen, it will take alot for me to think that it can. but thats a different conversation. good work. LATER
- add/view comments (1)
trav8434 reviewed Version 1 -
Read 50% of the Item
”...on both side of an…” “both sides”
”...his fill of politics. I.e., we were talking about…” this “I.e.” doesnt really work here. Just throw in a “for example” or “for instance”.
”...and put them on island; let them battle it…” Maybe a dash instead of a semicolon here.
”...Think of it: Citizens from…” lower case “c” in “Citizens”
““United Nations Island”” You’ve got quotes inside quotes here but the same variety. Maybe try underlining or single quotes (’’).
” “Hi! Everything is fine. I just want to congratulate Las Vegas …” What exactly are you trying to get across by with this little blurb?
”...concept of United Nations Island?”” Why a question mark here?
”...cops to his crime briefly before justifying his slip.” I think i get what you’re saying but “cops to his crime” doesn’t seem very suitable for what you’re trying to get across here.
““What was your area?”” Maybe something more specific – “area of focus”...
“military” ‘public figure’ – in two sentences adjoining one another you emphasize words in two different ways.
““Really, only one. She won in the category…” This is a fantastic idea, wrapped up with a good little punchline.
In your dialogue you have several characters standing around and it’s difficult to imagine who’s talking from time to time.
Instead of telling us that the characters are sad/happy/disgruntled, try and show us with a descriptions of their changed countenance(s), furtive glances, downcast eyes, etc.
I’m gonna go ahead and read the other 50% later. So far, it seems like an interesting idea. You’ve set up a mechanism that, after the first chapter, can efficiently churn out useful/witty observations of semi-existent characters as they act and interact. This is a good start. Some of the analogies, however, seem a bit cliche – Tibet’s portion of land is the so-called safe zone, but what does that mean to any given reader? Do we know any Tibeten folks? If not, than you’re basing this purely on stereotype, which is not compelling in the least bit. Why does Oprah have to be on television 6 hours a day in some form or another and in your story?
Also, you go back and forth between present and past tense intermittently. This can be a real problem down the road if you continue to switch things up in what seems to me to be an arbitrary manner.
Travis
Tasyin reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
There’s a very different tone in the serious musings about the world and the state of things than there is in the silly Survivor parody. The second part is more mature and addresses really important issues clearly with a good story to go along with it. You make a good point, a point that really needs to be made more often than it is, and that alone would make it a good piece, even if the writing weren’t as good as it is.
On the other hand, the middle section, the ‘United Nations Island’ script, doesn’t read in at all the same way. The message is scrambled by your attempts to integrate humor and parody, and while it’s a good idea I think that what you’re trying to say is lost. You only address the thing from an American point of view, and it’s clearly America you’re trying to criticize, and the other countries on the ‘island’ are sort of getting in the way of that. It might be more clear if you were to use a similar concept, but just have American political figures on the island, maybe against one other team made up of members from across the world. Having every country makes everything hard to understand. It also gets bogged down so much by details that it’s hard to get the humor.
The other main thing that bothered me about the ‘Survivor’ part of this was the names. I don’t think it was necessary for you to change the names around, and it instead added to that sense of confusion that pervades this piece.
A lot of the things you write in the parody are funny, it’s just bogged down so the humor is hard to get to. I’d split this up into two stories. One would be the more serious parts, and the other would be this funny parody, but simplified so it is easier to understand and more relatable. Separately these could both be good stories, but together they don’t compliment each other and hurt your overall message.
dianegermano reviewed Version 1 -
Read 11% of the Item
Once upon a time in America we were “isolationists.” We restricted immigration, turned away refugees. Many believed it was wrong, others held fast. In 1941, that changed forever. Now, as in Ancient Rome, where only one out of ten Centurions were Roman, so too is the State of our Union.
oneshot92 reviewed Version 1 -
Read 100% of the Item
This has to be the best piece I have read on this sight. Ther were times when I couldn’t even read, I was laughing so hard. I had to go outside so as to not wake everyone in the house up.
You have done an amazing job of using humor to open our eyes to our own short comings.
Please, please, please! Do more! Absolutely wonderful. Thank you.
Showing 1 - 5 of 5
Review item
Add to favesCreator
Item Stats
GENERAL
6 Reviews 11 Comments
Version 1
Latest Activity: 13 days ago
REVIEW QUEUE
Appeared in Queue: 1 Time
Skipped: 6 Times
Ratings & Rankings
