ITT: Rewrite the TDKR plane scene in the style of your favorite author

File: 24 KB, 350x250, You re a big guy _0ba61bc5c8dd383e53b0f0bab1835a36.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 03:59:59 2015 No.7113249 [Reply] [Original]

ITT: Rewrite the TDKR plane scene in the style of your favorite author

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:07:58 2015 No.7113267

This tale, which I apologise in advance for telling, has been knocking around in my some-what silly head for some time now and I wish to free myself of it so that I may get some rest. On board a plane, sliding across the gently waving sheet of clouds, was a man who loved to hold his belt. Women, and beautiful ones I must admit, often reproached him for this, driving him to do it even more. Mister, get on with the story already! Oh, my apologies, I lose myself too easily. To continue, this belt-buckle-bracing man squatted in front of another man, who breathed heavily, with a sack on his head, and pulled it off. "Bane?" he said. "Yes," was the reply. The empty seats laughed and the man laughed with them, the overhead compartments chattered in the shrieking wind, the men flew around the cabin, knocking about, as the plane plummeted to the lush green earth. There you have it. I must go, I need to get my shoes shined. Good day.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:12:40 2015 No.7113274 >>7113267 I want to say the guy who wrote clockwork orange but I don't know why cause I haven't even read it

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:19:23 2015 No.7113294 And but so then Question #1 for him is obviously why the lurid mask, then, for this steroidically huge guy capable of demapping all would-be foes?

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:20:00 2015 No.7113296

Before reading the meme trilogy, I would recommend the following:

1) Read the /lit/ starter pack.

2) Start with the Greeks.

3) Read the following sampling of the Canon:

The Divine Comedy
Canterbury Tales
Don Quixote
King Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet, A Midsummer Night's Dream
Paradise Lost
Faust
Notes from Underground, Crime and Punishment
Moby Dick

Then you will be ready to appreciate what Joyce, Pynchon, and to a lesser extent, DFW have done with the medium.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:28:08 2015 No.7113309 >>7113267 Dickens? I have no idea

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:30:38 2015 No.7113314
File: 804 KB, 855x1297, url.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

See Eye Aye Eye Ame, Bane? Aye. On the plane the biggity biggguy bane, maskman asks for pain for you. Nothing sayes Pavel, dr brodr only one in the plane, in the plan, expect extremely loyal royal pain to pull and paid to grab. Get them fire start on broader, off course he goes. Thrown gun out of craft to rise be for you shoot.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:43:35 2015 No.7113334 >>7113296 Guy Wrongthred?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:45:18 2015 No.7113335 >>7113314 Best one. I cried laughing.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 04:45:25 2015 No.7113336 >>7113267 Lemony Snickett?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 05:07:09 2015 No.7113393 >>7113267 moby dick?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 05:13:25 2015 No.7113411 >>7113267 wodehouse

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 05:17:33 2015 No.7113420
File: 21 KB, 148x157, WilliamBigGuy.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Two masterplans, both alike in size,
In fair Uzbekistan, where we lay our scene,
From ancient doctor break to new prize,
Where Mosquito blood makes Mosquito's hands unclean.
From forth the fatal planes of these two foes
A pair of star cross'd lovers take their flight;
Whose misadventured piteuos overthrows
Do with one's death bury their agency's strife.
The fearful passage of his death mark'd love,
And the continuance of his big guy's rage,
Which, but his love for you, nought could remove,
Is now the two hour's traffic of our stage;
That if after five minutes with ears still attend,
Thou might as well miss, and thy love to the big guy send.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 06:33:36 2015 No.7113562 File: 56 KB, 302x469, Top Joyce.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7113314

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 06:37:34 2015 No.7113568 >>7113274 >>7113309 >>7113336 >>7113393 >>7113411 nein

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 06:38:58 2015 No.7113572 >>7113314 brilliant

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 06:41:30 2015 No.7113576 >>7113267 BANE?!

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 06:52:29 2015 No.7113595 File: 1.64 MB, 2000x2311, 1432148421365.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7113420 Well done

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 07:01:57 2015 No.7113617 >>7113267 laurence sterne?

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 07:02:04 2015 No.7113618
File: 133 KB, 250x380, Disaster Area.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

He pulled back the velvet drape, and perceived immediately a fence of silver pipes,like a cage around the man's mouth. Above it the captured mans intelligent eyes move calmly around the plane, as if taking itinerary. A dim light suffused his unveiled mask, which CIA was already beginning to see as a death cap. The trace of the man's gaze on his weak mouth struck in him an unusual note of uncertainty. The ambiguities in their relationship, which seemed inscribed in the cryptic symbols of the mercenaries clasped jaw.
CIA struggled to read the shallow pools of eyes that flicked dimly about his features. He wondered about the scars which mapped the instruction manual of this space age death mask. The first flutter of an erection announced itself in his crotch.
"If I pulled that off," he began, unsure whether he was making a threat or a proposition, "would you die?"
"it would be extremely painful" - the voice emanated under the metallized fist of pipes like an organ, and for a brief moment CIA thought him a high priest, this plane a chariot and their religion the ambivalent marriage of chrome and flesh.
"You're a big guy", he observed.
"For you."

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 07:27:22 2015 No.7113672 >>7113267 Gogol?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 07:40:30 2015 No.7113704 Somebody do a Pynchon and a Mcarthy. I'm too lazy to do it.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 07:44:43 2015 No.7113712

And they are crashing, the plane slamming under the bullets and the mercenaries grinning hideously over their hired guns. Towering over them all is the mosquito man and he is naked and dancing, his small feet lively and quick and now in doubletime and bowing to the CIA agents, huge and pale and extremely painful, like a big guy. They expect one of us in the wreckage, he says. He says the fire rises. He bows to the soldiers and sashays backwards and throws back his head and laughs deep in his throat and he is a great favorite for you. He wafts his mask and the lunar dome of his skull passes palely under the hotheads and he swings about and takes possession of Doctor Pavel and he pirouettes and makes a crash, two crashes, shooting a man and throwing him out of a plane at once. His mercenaries are light and don't fly so good. There are no survivors. He says that the fire rises. He dances in light and shadow and he is a big guy. There are no survivors in the plane. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die for you.

-Bravo Nolan, "Big Guy Meridian"

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 08:01:38 2015 No.7113738 >>7113618 >and for a brief moment CIA thought him a high priest, this plane a chariot and their religion the ambivalent marriage of chrome and flesh. 10/10

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 10:49:34 2015 No.7114169 bump

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:02:07 2015 No.7114215

ah was in tha plane with that big guy and cia and dr pavel and he tried to shoot me and throw me frum tha plane. Ah was llike 'git tea fuck. why wuld ya shoot a guy before throwing im frum a plane'. the cheeky cunt woz like 'if I pull that off will ya die ken?' and i woz like 'itd be very painful' to the gadge. He sed ah was a big guy so I sed 'for you' clarifiyin mah position. Ah crashed that plane with no survivors ken, and I sed 'the fire rises'

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:08:44 2015 No.7114243 For sale Big guy For you

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:38:32 2015 No.7114358 >>7113267 >>7113672 this is my bet as well

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:41:30 2015 No.7114369 >>7113672 >>7114358 Needs more titular councils and heterosexual male-male kisses.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:51:12 2015 No.7114398 >>7114243 Masterful.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:52:51 2015 No.7114401 >>7113249 Why is this scene so interesting/funny for people? I feel as if it's just a forced meme based on absolutely nothing in particular.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:53:47 2015 No.7114403 File: 284 KB, 868x2096, 1433206960692.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 11:57:25 2015 No.7114415 >>7114401 Many people connected over understanding(/misunderstanding/both) "for you". Also it being a peak in awfulness in a "pretentious shlock" type big budget blockbuster.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 12:46:47 2015 No.7114550 >>7114243 Such elegance.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 13:57:15 2015 No.7114739 >>7114243 Iceberg/10

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 14:05:51 2015 No.7114760 >>7114401 because it felt forced itself. there is just something very strange about the acting, expecially the CIA guy

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 14:10:40 2015 No.7114772 >>7113420 truly inspired

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 14:22:54 2015 No.7114811

I'm wearing a Ralph Lauren navy blue jacket. Laura doesn't like it, she says it, "reminds her of her grandpa." I just smile at her when she says this, masking the hatred behind my eyes.
Beneath it, I have a light blue polo on. My pants are Central Intelligence Agency issue Khaki's, ugly, but blood washes off well.
I study the bag, it appears to be black cashmere, very nice. I pull it off to reveal, a bald head? "Very out of style this year," I mutter under my breath.
He appear to have some sort of black and decker food processor on his face or something. I don't recognize it. It reminds me of a patty winters show where she interviewed a man so fat, he needed a mask to help him breathe. I realize without the mask and a full head of hair he would look like Jack Johnson, quietly I am grateful it isn't him.
I look at him and with sarcasm, ask him, "If I pulled that off would you die?"
He looks me dead in the eye and replies in some sort of Kermit-the-frog voice, "It would be extremely painful."
Barely able to contain myself at this, I hold the laughs in, grimacing.
"You're a big guy."
"For you."

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 14:27:54 2015 No.7114837 >>7114215 Irvine Welsh?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 15:09:28 2015 No.7115004 "..." "..." "You're a big guy." "W/r/t you"

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 15:21:34 2015 No.7115051 >>7114811 The dubs make it its Bret Easton Ellis right?

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 15:42:06 2015 No.7115111

Of course there he stands, the Big Fucking Kahuna, CIA himself, as if he has all the knowhow in the world stashed in the upper corner of his smirk, stuck up in his lip like orally applied cocaine lingering on the gums - though t'be totally honest that's probably there too, thinks Pavel, and surpise! He's right.

"Dr. Pavel," he sez, "CIA," then looking around, crashing from all the Columbian, suddenly gettin rill paranoid, "You don't get to bring friends." As if these guys are anybody's friends, he thinks. That kind of non-specific Eastern European accent - CIA knows this sorta thing ain't for friends, having seen in his day The Manchurian Candidate (1962) as well as a whole Seattle Slew of Bond flicks. The smirk getting bigger, as if that's even possible, as he calls the bluff.

"Bane?"

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 15:45:46 2015 No.7115126 >>7113420 Underrated Bardpost.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:04:13 2015 No.7115172 You are a big man. You are mad man. You are masked man. I think you would die if I took that off.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:18:21 2015 No.7115208 File: 75 KB, 495x660, Kafka.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >And then... HE SHOOTS A MAN BEFORE THROWING HIM OUT OF A PLANE! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:23:31 2015 No.7115227

It is possible that I had a presentment of my future. As me, Pavel and the other CIA agents were waiting and bickering amongst ourselves the others finally came and asked us the secret password for letting the prisoner enter as they had to make sure we weren't pretending. The code I gave them was that I was the one who had to gather herbs for remedies.
As the prisoner was entering the plain that would soon crash with no survivors I gazed at the misty far away mountains whole tops looked like some spikes of an antique door.
When finally inside I wanted him to give us information. A bag was on his head, but his body was strikingly tall and elegant, pale with long, muscular limbs. I tried to trick him by making him think I was throwing his coconspirators from the plain, but my ruse had not succeed. As if the Pancreator had designed the scene I took of his blindfold and asked if I took of his mask, would it killed him. He answered that it would have been extremely painful. For me.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:49:38 2015 No.7115314 >>7115126 Nothing can top >>7114403, which is original AND in iambic pentameter. Props to whoever made that.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:50:04 2015 No.7115315 >>7115314 Shit tbh

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:51:17 2015 No.7115321 >>7113267 calvino

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:51:56 2015 No.7115322
File: 79 KB, 614x383, Cormac.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

And finally upon the edge of that long field the mosquito man appeared in a quivering specter of a jeep, towing along with it his cargo: a uniform of war prisoners. He pushed the dilapidated car before him, bringing forthwith the bounty that had agreed upon. A G man stood dumbly like some primitive clay idol as the prisoners were presented before him not unlike slaves at an auction with his prize, a brown doctor called Pavel, among them. He counted the secondary heads before him and spat.
Only wanted the one the G man said as the doctor was shuffled into a plane by foreign soldiers behind him.
No charge for them all the same. They say they work for the masked man your boys want so badly the mosquito man said, one arm raised to other sinewy prisoners adjacent to him, made mansuete by the hoods of black rebozo tied around their eyes and face.
Bane?
The same one.
The G man considered the other prisoners for a moment before calling his armed company to likewise load them in with the doctor.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 16:57:44 2015 No.7115339 >>7115208 BANE'S GONNA FREAK

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:03:04 2015 No.7115362 >>7113712 very nice

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:03:57 2015 No.7115368 >>7115322 I love you

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:06:05 2015 No.7115373 >>7115208 there is no "and then" with kafka, the shock happens right off the bat

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:06:24 2015 No.7115374 >>7113712 last line should be 'he says he is a big guy for you' but otherwise great

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:36:06 2015 No.7115465 >>7115111 Is this Pynchon in Inherent Vice?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:37:07 2015 No.7115467 >>7115315 >>7115126 >>7113420 Stop samefagging

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:39:20 2015 No.7115476 >>7115051 Of coursh!!!

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:48:19 2015 No.7115506 >>7115322 >>7113712 Why do both the Mccarthy interpretations refer to Bane as "mosquito man"?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 17:51:19 2015 No.7115515 >>7115506 The masketta man

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:28:12 2015 No.7115636 >>7115515 Okay but why does that turn into mosquito when writing in his voice?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:31:24 2015 No.7115650 >>7115636 it's just one of those things anon, just one of those things

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:33:12 2015 No.7115660 File: 563 KB, 569x802, cia guy2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7115636 It's not a reflection on McCarthy, you newfag, the masketta man has always been referred to as the mosquito man

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:34:37 2015 No.7115668 >>7115636 Pynchon, chill, it's not one of your gay novels.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:35:39 2015 No.7115677

>>7115322
>the dilapidated car before him, bringing forthwith the bounty that had agreed upon.
>stood dumbly like some primitive clay idol
> He counted the secondary heads before him and spat.
>sinewy prisoners
>made mansuete by the hoods of black rebozo tied around their eyes and face.

u done good nigga

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:36:40 2015 No.7115683 >>7114215 >>7114837 Not bad. Yeah it's Trainspotting.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:36:41 2015 No.7115684 This is a great thread. Is there an efficient way to browse the greatest threads of 4chan's history? OC is nice. Browsing often, not so much...

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:39:48 2015 No.7115703 >>7115684 >wants something good >isn't willing to work for it bro, that is life

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:40:53 2015 No.7115708 >>7113314 >>7113420 >>7115322 best

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:41:39 2015 No.7115713 >>7115703 I can live hooked to 4chan. I'm just not willing to do so. I'm willing to search for the content as long as it's in the least bothersome way available. Am I a loon?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:50:47 2015 No.7115743 >>7115465 I was thinking Vineland but yeah that works too. His style and tics are pretty consistent over all the 'Pynchon Lite' novels.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:55:32 2015 No.7115774

"Have you ever heard the story about the big guy who taught his gun to talk?" The words had left my mouth haphazardly.

You had to be there. It was not the beginning nor the end, but regardless, you had to be there. Bane was lying in front of me, kneeled. A brown bag adorned his head. Maimen and Pavel were somewhere around my blind spots. I am certain they were peering at me.

The central intelligence agent awaited a response.

Pavel managed to blurt a choked strand of words, roughly equating to "Hey, Bane, you probably shouldn't be sniffing that much jet fuel", before passing out. The four of us were riding in a dark green, almost succulent jeep. "It Ain't Me" by the Creedence Clearwater Revival was blaring. The car came to a stop. Bane had been rushed out by the others. The rug now on Bane's head was caught in his mask filter, stifling potential speech. Some stupid fabric caused my mask to malfunction. I could hear tiny people in the linings. At the very least the mask was permeable to the point where I could see through it. In front of us was a man, confidently postured. He said my name.

A bug creature, resembling a giant mosquito, came from the corner of my eye. He started speaking with a heavily accented English to the man with his hands on his belt. The insectoid took a shot of whiskey that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

I was patiently alone in my thoughts when Bane had spoken up a measly "for you". I removed the mask on his head to find him smoking four cigarettes, all lined up in each section of his mask. It was, at this point, that I had realized I was still tripping.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 18:55:41 2015 No.7115776 >>7114243 pretty good.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:00:36 2015 No.7115797 >>7114403 12/10

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:00:45 2015 No.7115798

The slavers carriage stumbled up the cobblestone road towards Daenery’s towering palace of a home. The rays of sun scraping through the clouds struck Qaggaz’s face like hammers hitting an anvil. The streets were a sea of brown, including a few lumps of feces strewn about. The dung peddled their wares to every pedestrian who had the unfortunate pleasure of accidental eye contact. Each piece of shit wore rags a slightly lighter shade of brown than their repulsive skin. Jorah Mormont sat beside his hooded companions, who happened to be wearing ebony rags blocking the view of their faces and were forced to wear gags, disabling their ability to speak. Jorah was sweating copiously due to his long spent hours in the humid carriage and having to perform queer tasks for the slavemaster during his prolonged incarceration. Jorah peeked through the miniscule holes in the walls of the carriage, capturing a view of the Queen’s palace approaching steadfastly.
As the carriage drew near, Jorah and Qaggaz spotted the talented slave warriors known by all as the Unsullied. Unfortunately the other men could not see through their hoods, however they had already smelled the warriors minutes ago. Jorah spotted the Queen standing in front of the gates of her Meereenese palace, posing authoritatively, arms akimbo, with her hands hooked around her belt loop. Qaggaz signaled Jorah to exit the carriage. Once Jorah maneuvered his way out of his container, he was met with the unbearable stench of greed and pestilence. Qaggaz’s guards prodded Jorah and the other men forward as Qaggaz presented them to the queen. Daenerys’ smile and optimism was bolstered by the sight of her old affiliate. As a part of their arrangement Daenerys had her men unload a treasure chest from the palace and bestow it upon Qaggaz.
Daenerys, addressing the only familiar face among the men, stated, “Ser Mormont, I’m queen,” continuing to display her authoritative figure and confident expression.
“He wasn’t alone,” replied Qaggaz as his men lifted the Queen’s treasure into the carriage.
“Uhh, you don’t get to bring friends,” retorted the queen, motioning towards Qaggaz’s prisoners. Jorah interjected, “They are not my friends.” Qaggaz chuckled, “Don’t worry, no charge for them.”
“And why would I want them?” Daenerys asked sternly.
“They were trying to grab your prize,” Qaggaz stated, as Daenerys’ appearance of confidence transitioned into one of intrigue.”They work for the Lannister, the halfman,” Qaggaz continued.
Daenerys knew well who she was dealing with, “IMP?! Bring them inside, I’ll call it in.”

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:01:46 2015 No.7115804

>>7115798
Rotting, vile hands grabbed the prisoners, one of which immediately puked, possibly from his turbulent journey through Essos, or perhaps it was the notion of imminent execution. Daenerys and the prisoners proceeded inside the palace and climbed the seemingly countless steps that lead to the throne room. When they reached the top floor the party was blasted by a chilling gust of wind as if foreshadowing their inevitable deaths. They stumbled through the foreign palace at a snail’s pace; the only sound Jorah could hear was the ominous echoes of the prisoner’s chains scraping against the marble floors. Jorah glanced ahead and saw the decorated entrance to what was presumably Daenerys’ throne room, the entrance itself was adorned with the corpses of former Mereneese slave owners. Jorah noticed a distinctively noisome odor which he initially believed originated from one of the many abscesses spewing pus like a hose, which hung from the decaying skin of the Unsullied. To Jorah’s horror, the pungent musk was not emanating from the Unsullied, but from the Dragon Queen herself! The Queen’s dress was not woven with typical threads, it was composed of the uniquely pale skin that is explicitly different than that of the working class Meereenese man. This is the skin of a Meereenese slave owner that no doubt Daenarys had slowly tortured before butchering.
The prisoners shuffled into the dimly lit throne room. The diminished light cast monstrous shadows on the wall; the unsullied were unfazed. When they reached the steps of the throne, the Unsullied threw the prisoners to their knees. Daenarys positioned herself on top of the small stairway leading to her throne as a ruler would to its subjects. Daenerys unsheathes her dagger, which was carved with many intricate designs of dragons, the hilt was embellished with many fine jewels, few of which come from across the narrow sea.
“The meeting we’re going to have includes ME, MY MEN, SER JORAH HERE, BUT ONLY ONE OF YOU!” Daenerys boomed to the masked audience.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:02:46 2015 No.7115812

>>7115804
“First one to talk gets to stay in my city!” Daenerys maintaining her loud tone. The unsullied warriors shifted to one end of the room, where there was a monolithic door; the Unsullied opened the door, exposing a grotesque creature which had the appearance of a dragon. The dragon attempted to release itself from its confined quarters, yet it was unable to move, as a chain held it into place. The dragon’s frustration grew, releasing fire into the air, and scratching its claws into the stone floor. The dragon was no larger than an average carriage, but it was still able to intimidate the fierce unsullied warriors. The chain that bounded the dragon dug into its flesh like a blade; its collar obviously too tight. Its neck was covered in sores and pustules from the constant chafing. It’s eyes were blind from having rarely seen light and milky in appearance. Its legs could not support its body from having rarely moved about. The stench of rotting flesh that radiated from its body burned the nostrils of everyone in the room.
A soldier from Daenerys’ retinue grabbed one of the masked prisoners and tossed him towards the entrance of the dragon’s chamber. Daenerys pursued, placing her dagger at the throat of the prisoner.
“Who paid you, to grab Ser Jorah!” Daenerys shouted over the dragon’s obnoxious breathing. Daenerys, in order to convince the other prisoners that this one will die, brought her dagger down onto the prisoners back, creating a non-lethal wound while covering his mouth. The dragon then feigned eating the prisoner, making grotesque noises to simulate this. The Unsullied soldiers lifted the captive, and brought him to a corner of the room, isolated from the rest of the prisoners.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:05:34 2015 No.7115827 >>7115208 PLANE CRASH LMAO

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:05:35 2015 No.7115828

Listen:

Dr. Pavel and See-Eye-Aye spent the better part of the day on a plane. The plane was made in Kansas, which is a state in a country called America. America is a country which, according to some people, is quite free. See-Eye-Aye worked in America, although he didn't sound like it, at least, not according to some people.

Dr. Pavel clearly was not from America, and did not sound like it either. Some people think that this means people like Dr. Pavel do not know freedom which isn't true. Other's think that no-one knows freedom, which also isn't true. The truth, and moral of this little scene, is that whether you're from America or from not-America, the plane may still crash either way, with no survivors at that too. So it goes.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:08:36 2015 No.7115841
File: 2.00 MB, 988x1463, Bane.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Dr. Pavel, I’m CIA Man. Dr. Pavel nods, nervous. CIA Man hands Driver a briefcase. He wasn’t alone, he says. CIA Man, confused, spots the hooded prisoners. He turns to Dr. Pavel. You don’t get to bring friends.

Zey are not my friends.

Don’t worry, no charge for them.

Why would I want them?

They were trying to grab your prize. They work for the mercenary. The masked man.

Ooooo do tell... Bane?

The Driver nods. CIA Man turns to his Special Forces Men. Get them on board—I’ll call it in.

FIRST ONE TO TALK GETS TO STAY ON ME AIRCRAFT! SO! WHO PAID YOU TO GRAB DR. PAVEL?!

CIA Man fires out the open door and the Special Forces yank Hooded Man 1 back in, clubbing him quiet.

HE DIDN’T FLY SO GOOD! WHO WANTS TO TRY NEXT?!

TELL ME ABOUT BANE! WHY DOES HE WEAR THE MASK?!

LOT OF LOYALTY FOR A HIRED GUN!

Or he’s wondering why someone would shoot a man before throwing him out of an aeroplane over the sea. CIA Man turns to the robotman. He daintily shuts the cargo door.

Wiseguy, huh? At least you can talk. Who are you?

We are nothing. We are the dirt beneath your feet. And no one cared who I was until I put on the mask! Hehe haha.

CIA Man, wary, approaches the big guy—pulls off his hood, revealing a dark mask like some dangerous turgid negro phallus. The eyes behind it are cold steel yet inviting. This is Bane.

Who we are does not matter. What matters is our plan.

CIA Man is now fascinated. If I pull this off, will you die?

It would be extremely painful.

You’re a big guy, tee hee.

For you.

Bane licks his breathing apparatus while staring deep into Aidan Gillen's rat-eyes.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 19:25:58 2015 No.7115909 >>7115684 r/4chan

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:12:57 2015 No.7116157 File: 935 KB, 200x154, lolz.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7115322 >He counted the secondary heads before him and spat. Incredible.

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:24:06 2015 No.7116206

>1
"Dr. Pavel, I'm CIA," you say, introducing yourself to the nuclear scientist. You notice your soldiers pulling three handcuffed and blindfolded men out of the humvee.

To tell Dr. Pavel he can't bring friends, turn to page 2.
To get them on board, turn to page 3.

>2
"Uh, you don't get to bring friends," you say. You leave the strange men and take off with Dr. Pavel.

Turn to page 10.

>3
You decide to call it in. Pulling out your gun, you think it's time for a little interrogation. "Who paid you to grab Doctor Pavel?!" you snarl. The loyal henchman stays silent.

To shoot the man, turn to page 4.
To spare the hired gun, turn to page 5.

>4
BLAM! Unfortunately the bullet richochets after hitting him, and is reflected straight back at you! Looks like what comes around, goes around.

*** You have died ***

>5
You shoot above the man's head and grab the next one. "Tell me about Bane!" you shout. "Why does he wear the mask!" "Well perhaps he's wondering why someone would shoot a man before throwing him out of a plane." It's Bane!

To ask Bane about his master plan, turn to page 6.
To pull off his mask, turn to page 7.

>6
"So what's the next step of your master plan?" you ask. "Crashing this plane," Bane answers. Enemy soldiers appear outside the windows! Bane snaps his cuffs like a twig. "With no survivors!" This can't be happening, you think!

To wait for something to happen, turn to page 8.
To take charge of the situation, turn to page 9.

>7
Trembling, you stretch your fingers towards Bane's mask. Before you know it, Bane is on top of you, and you suddenly notice that he is a very big guy. Your death was extremely painful for you.

*** You have died ***

>8
You are paralyzed with fear. Just then, the plane lurches and tips over. You fall down the aisle and break your neck. Your brother finds your body in the wreckage days later.

*** You have died ***

>9
Now's not the time for fear! Thinking quickly, you raise your gun and shoot Bane in the face. Lucky shot! You hit him right in the breathing apparatus! Steam billows out as the blood rushes to Bane's face. He claws at his crimson cranium as your men quickly dispatch the rest of the enemies.

Turn to page 10.

>10
You fly Dr. Pavel to a high-security CIA facility. He tells you everything about his Wayne Enterprises fusion reactor and you relay the info back to Bruce. Bane has been taken care of. You've just been promoted to FBI and NSA in light of your courageous actions. Life is good. You light your cigar, and the fire rises.

THE END

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:27:23 2015 No.7116216 >>7115713 an absolute madman

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:28:03 2015 No.7116223 >>7114403 fucking brillllliant m8

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:42:58 2015 No.7116273 >>7115798 >>7115804 >>7115812 Yes, you can participate in the thread too

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:48:26 2015 No.7116289 >>7115841 Go to bed Tao

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 20:59:27 2015 No.7116328 >>7116206 10/10 adventure

Anonymous Mon Sep 14 21:06:22 2015 No.7116356

"If I^322 pull off that mask^323, will you die?"

"It'll be extremely painful^324."

"You're a big guy^325."

"For you."^326

322. CIA
323. The mask in question is bane's breathing device, the same phrasing used by Aquinas in Summa Theologica
324. Bane may not be able to breath through his mask that appears as vagina dentata.
325. CIA's insecurity about size, see page 35
326. Bane is big (for CIA).

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 21:11:41 2015 No.7116380 >>7116273 What point are you trying to get across?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 22:07:05 2015 No.7116612 >>7116380 You wasted a lot of time trying to fit in.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 22:27:53 2015 No.7116708 File: 270 KB, 1899x667, Screen Shot 2015-04-22 at 7.27.38 PM.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] posting Nabokov by some other anon.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:00:52 2015 No.7116830 >>7116612 you fool that wasn't written for this thread, or written by me at all

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:03:02 2015 No.7116841 >>7116830 Well its terrible and you shouldn't have posted it

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:23:12 2015 No.7116914 >>7116841 You have poor taste in literature what exactly is terrible about it?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:27:29 2015 No.7116933 One plane: crashed, no survivors.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:31:11 2015 No.7116946 >>7114811 ellis

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:36:21 2015 No.7116968 >>7116914 What gives you that idea?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 14 23:41:07 2015 No.7116990 File: 1.34 MB, 350x270, 1419727301546.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7116914 TOSS OFF TOSSAH1!!11

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:21:35 2015 No.7117121 >>7116968 you disliked the incredible fanfic I posted

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:25:18 2015 No.7117139 >>7113267 Catcher in the rye

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:25:40 2015 No.7117144 >>7116933 i laughed so hard

Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:31:12 2015 No.7117165
File: 18 KB, 250x354, 250px-Slavoj_Zizek_in_Liverpool_cropped.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

So zish i theenk *sniffs* is something which is a very important er question *adjusts t shirt around gut* that is, If i pull off the mask will you die? and the reply is of course that, it would be extremely painful *touches nose* and scho on, however this i zink zis is a very important question because he is a big guy, er a very big guy *sniffs* so the question then is to zink, how are we going to abolish the mask, and what is the next step, in this master plan and scho on, because capitalism has got itself caught, within the ideology, and perhaps the ideology is crashing this plane with no survivors

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:42:01 2015 No.7117208 File: 1.74 MB, 177x150, 1433983538351.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7117165

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:48:04 2015 No.7117234 >>7117165 I chuckled appreciatively.

Anonymous Tue Sep 15 00:54:55 2015 No.7117259
File: 168 KB, 432x500, Thomas_Stearns_Eliot_by_Lady_Ottoline_Morrell_(1934).jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Let fall upon its back the hood that falls from masked head,
Slipped by the hood, made a sudden question,
'if i pull that off will you die'
'it would be extremely painful'
And seeing that it was a big guy,
Curled once about the plane, and crashed it with no survivors.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 01:12:13 2015 No.7117319 >>7115774 sorry this is a terrible Burroughs.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 01:14:08 2015 No.7117322 >>7115774 try a sterner, clinical tone, run amok with run-ons, and most importantly, cut everything up and put it back together again

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 01:14:14 2015 No.7117323 >>7117319 I didn't do that one but I thought it was supposed to be HST.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 01:24:22 2015 No.7117348 >>7115660 Masketta Man is already a joke name, why does he need another one?

Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:04:05 2015 No.7117415

>>7113249
The “Dark Knight” Gets Up

The car ride was bumpy and uncomfortable. There was a bag on Bane's head so he couldn't see where they were going. Dan and Greg had bags on their heads too. Men pointed their guns at them while they traveled but no one felt threatened because they couldn't see anything. They also didn't feel threatened because they planned an escape. The car was driving to a plane in a field. When the car stopped Dr. Pavel got out of the car and went into the plane. A man introduced himself as “C.I.A.” and told the doctor that he wasn't allowed to bring friends but the doctor told him that the people with bags on their heads weren't his friends. “C.I.A.” asked who the people with bags on their heads were. One of the people that drove them said that they were “no charge” and that they worked for the “Masketta Man,” which “C.I.A.” knew was Bane. He said Bane's name outloud in a way that made him seem annoyed. Bane was still pretending to be someone else with a bag on his head. Bane, Dan, and Greg got on the plane and the plane “took off.” The plane was flying when one of the people with “C.I.A” opened the door outside and the inside of the plane became really loud and windy. The people with bags on their heads were on their knees near the open door and “C.I.A.” was yelling at them to “start talking.” “C.I.A.” took Dan and Greg each to the open door and tried to scare them by shooting his gun close to their heads and by hanging them out of the open door. He said “tell me about Bane” and “why does he wear the mask.” Greg was quiet and “C.I.A.” seemed annoyed. Bane had a weird voice and mumbled about how stupid it is to shoot someone and then throw them out of the plane since both threats would kill Greg anyway. “C.I.A.” tried talking to Bane because he was the only one of the people with bags on their heads that said anything the whole time. He asked Bane who he was but Bane would not answer the question directly. “C.I.A.” took the bag off of Bane's head. Bane had a mask on his face that covered his mouth. “C.I.A.” asked Bane if he would die if he pulled the mask off and Bane told him it would be very painful. Then “C.I.A.” told Bane he was a “big guy” and Bane said “for you.” Bane was trying to be threatening and stared at “C.I.A.” intensely, but it was unclear was he meant by “for you.”

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:11:49 2015 No.7117436 >>7117415 the mood of the plane seemed bleak

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:18:55 2015 No.7117448 >>7117165 Great and golden

Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:27:19 2015 No.7117462

>>7113249

We've finally got the guys and we're about to take them on the plane but then I notice that there's an extra one.
"Three? We'll take it."
When I get inside, I put on the headphones for my brand new Walkman and open up a bottle of Evian. I decide to let them stir for a little bit before I get to it.
The dry weather has wrecked havoc on my skin and hair and I can't wait to get back to my apartment in New York and re-moisturize.
Just getting my hair to look halfway presentable today required me to enlist a medley of different mousses and waxes. I was practically in tears when I made it out of my hotel.

I take the hood off of one of the guys. He's kind of cute with this really vapid look in his eyes that says, "Disappear here."
People in Los Angeles don't know how to merge.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:36:32 2015 No.7117473 >>7117462 Fifty Shades of Bane?

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:40:57 2015 No.7117483 >>7113294 needs footnotes

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:43:21 2015 No.7117492 >>7117473 no its clearly american psycho

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:53:27 2015 No.7117510 >>7117492 We already had that done much better earlier. This sounds like woman who is concerned about breaking a nail. Its totally off and horrible

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 02:59:47 2015 No.7117529 >>7116206 Amazing. 10/10 for working in the meme lines so well.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 03:51:36 2015 No.7117635 >>7117259 Heh. >>7117165 Double heh.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 05:07:53 2015 No.7117776 >>7113267 Beckett?

Anonymous Tue Sep 15 05:39:32 2015 No.7117829
File: 147 KB, 249x386, cia.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

bravo tier
>>7114403

good tier
>>7117415
>>7117259
>>7116356
>>7116206
>>7115322
>>7113712
>>7113618
>>7113314
>>7117165

medium tier
>>7115227
>>7115111
>>7114811

bad tier
>>7117462
>>7115841
>>7115828
>>7115798
>>7115774

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 06:51:45 2015 No.7117954 >>7117165 My God and my sides.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 06:57:34 2015 No.7117961 >>7116206 Gr8

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 13:20:34 2015 No.7118998 >>7114811 Dubs status: checked

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 14:34:49 2015 No.7119285 Many years later, as he faced CIA, Bane was to remember that distant afternoon when Ra's Al Ghul took him to discover The Pit...

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 14:41:04 2015 No.7119314 >>7115321 Correct!

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 15:36:13 2015 No.7119528 >>7113267 Salinger?

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 17:09:40 2015 No.7119635 >tfw this would be a perfect thread for you if you read but you don't

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 17:31:41 2015 No.7119729 >>7119635 That's why I'm on lit tbh

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 17:42:14 2015 No.7119773 File: 35 KB, 321x282, 1406235217541.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] Once again, /lit/ has proved itself to have the highest standards in memeing on 4chan. Never change.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 15 22:47:27 2015 No.7121042 Bumping. I been working on one.

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 01:21:45 2015 No.7121475 >>7121042 Bumping for you.

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 04:33:42 2015 No.7121914 >>7121475 Bump

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 04:36:02 2015 No.7121919 >>7113267 Bulgakov?

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 04:58:32 2015 No.7121959 "Was getting caught part of your plan." He drank some whiskey. its fucking hemingway im too lazy for this shit

Anonymous Wed Sep 16 11:31:10 2015 No.7122719

It is possible I had some presentiment of my future. The worn and beaten plane that stood before us, with streaks of dismal rain streaking its wings like the mountain streams, remains in my mind now as a symbol of my ascendance. So it is that I commence the account of it with the aftermath of the journey, in which our charge, the Doctor Pavel, had so nearly been snatched.

"The guard is here." Thus my brother spoke to Bane, who had already seen it for himself. Bane was our leader, and requested only that we be quiet. At the front, Mosquito man, who unlike us had not been swaddled in the guise of capture, readied himself, and then approached with Pavel in tow.

"He wasn't alone." He said.

"Errr, you don't get to bring friends."

The man had a simple face, and plain clothes, I supposed him an agent of some kind.

"They are not my friends. They were trying to nab your prise. They work for the traitor, the masked man."

"Bane?"

Mosquito gave a curt nod, but actually motioned to get rid of us. I felt my arm grabbed from behind, and my head forced downward.

"Get em' on board, I'll call 'em in."

I heard an audible grunt from the man holding me. I was not released, but guided instead up into the great craft. Such is the nature of things that we detest what we most rely upon - here, the jailer upon his captive, just as I despised the Batman, and indeed the corrupt nature of Gotham itself.

Anonymous Wed Sep 16 12:22:08 2015 No.7122895
File: 40 KB, 400x533, sunCIA.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

1. CIA said: Dr Pavel, I'm CIA
2. A wise agent does not allow on his plane friends of his enemies
3. But to achieve victory he must allow on board servants of Bane
4, 5. Ensure that your flight plan includes only one of these servants, such that one may be cast from great heights for not talking first.
6. Shoot your enemy before throwing him out of the plane, for his fall may be cushioned by heather.
7, 8. When confronted with Bane, enquire of his mask, for you must learn of your enemy's weaknesses.
9. Comment on his large stature, for it may undermine his self-esteem.
10. Ask of his plans, but beware for a wise enemy is deceptive.

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 12:28:07 2015 No.7122916 And then... HE TURNS INTO A BIG GUY AHAHAHAHAHAH

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 13:11:39 2015 No.7123059 File: 20 KB, 243x207, you just got serbed.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7114403 100/10

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 13:42:31 2015 No.7123156 File: 1.76 MB, 219x186, 1196.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7122895 Very good.

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 14:30:06 2015 No.7123308 >>7119285 What a twist! Bravo Gabo.

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 14:45:51 2015 No.7123368 >>7122895 Noice

>>	Anonymous Wed Sep 16 20:01:43 2015 No.7124596 BUMP?

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 04:08:36 2015 No.7125953 Bemp

Anonymous Thu Sep 17 04:27:19 2015 No.7126004

As you are, in this snapshot of space-time, standing once again here beside the plane, looking out into the dissolving horizon of the caucuses, the scene looks all too familiar once more and probably in further iterations yet. In timely fashion, a trail of smoke and upturned earth billows behind a Jeep, as its probably carrying masked men with plots in their clever little heads. Unfortunate as it is, you are in no position to be privy to them. Now, here they are ushered out in orderly fashion. First Pavel, you know this name, that seems so serendipitous and fatal all at once. But from where? This memory seems even impossible to you. In expected fashion the others come out too but unlike Pavel, with hoods over them, signifying all too openly their vulnerability. It looks suspicious, does it not? You take to inquiry as perhaps the most primary of your many discomforts right now is confusion. You carefully arrange an interrogation, the words meticulously pulled from ether and assembled so as to accomplish as much as possible. "You don't get to bring friends" you present this to Pavel. Pavel says they are not his friends and not a whit more. But then the bounty hunter speaks "don't worry, no charge for them". But why do you want them and you communicate as much. And it is at this point they are revealed to be the cohorts of the "masked man". Because this title sticks in your mind as something of significance, one and all you elect to take on board your aircraft.

Here sailing alongside the schools of clouds, you are left with the unpleasant business of interrogating these ne'er-do-wells. You have your men take them one by one and you make idle threats to throw them into the blue hoping that the hoods will make these idle threats more firm in your prisoner's imaginations. But your whole plot is undone as the third of these questions your methods with astounding perceptivity. But at least as he is not so apparently obstinate as the others, perhaps he may be of some use. But there is something uncanny about his voice. You undo his hood and what you see is thus

Banes you haven't killed
Banes you need to kill
Banes made for purposes other than killing
Banes you've been planning to kill for ages
Banes you could put aside maybe to kill this summer
Banes who are planning to kill you

However this multitude of potential Banes quickly narrows down to one category of actual Banes, that is "Banes that will see your days numbered" as the plane has now become the subject of some commotion. With a disturbing announcement from the masked fellow, goons have taken the craft from all quarters and now bullets are being fired helter-skelter, flying in all directions and making an awful mess. And your vexations are even greater now as it seems this plane is destined to crash with no survivors.

[Spoiler]Oh well, it fucking sucks[/spoiler]

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 04:51:51 2015 No.7126055 >>7121959 Bukowski?

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 04:56:19 2015 No.7126066 >>7126004 Intriguing. No idea who though... if I had to take a wild stab in the dark and pick an author I've never read and know very little about, I'd say... Bolano?

Anonymous Thu Sep 17 05:08:52 2015 No.7126095

>>7126066
Nah, mate its Calvino. In actuality it has been so long since I read him that I have basically forgotten his narrative style but I wanted to do something in the manner of If On A Winter's Night and I did, to whatever effect. I cannot write very well.

Anonymous Thu Sep 17 12:31:47 2015 No.7127052

Where is CIA gone?
Where the Big Guy?
Where the giver of flight plans?
Where are the seats at the plane?
Where are the friends in the Jeep?
Alas for the Masketta Man!
Alas for the Master Plan!
Alas for the splendour of the Agency!
How that plane has crashed away, Dark under the cover of Knight, as if it had never been!

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 12:52:08 2015 No.7127110 A big guy for you Getting caught- part of the plan Now the fire rises

Anonymous Thu Sep 17 13:27:45 2015 No.7127212

Take chances! Take leaps!
Take valorous feats!
But CIA worried,
From boots to his teeth

The plan was for one
For one Doctor Pavel
But seeing three more
Made CIA shuffle

"But no" he professed
Low, under his breaths
"This is my time to be
Put to the test."

"To prove I'm impetuous.
Impulsive. Precocious.
Improvised brilliance.
A man worth his sixpence."

But the Doctor's dear brothers
Were here to cause bothers!

Their leader, plus two,
Knew the plane must be doomed.
And planned their destruction
As most brothers do!

CIA then removed
The little black hood
"You're a big guy"
Big guy said "for you"

So when you decide
To cast plans aside
Be wary who's there
Who'll not forsake their's!

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 20:02:51 2015 No.7128773 Bump

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 20:16:48 2015 No.7128813 >>7113576 underrated post

>>	Anonymous Thu Sep 17 20:35:21 2015 No.7128889 File: 5 KB, 206x250, 1442083433855.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7127212 >CIA then removed >The little black hood >"You're a big guy" >Big guy said "for you"

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 06:11:50 2015 No.7130184
File: 13 KB, 330x450, conrad.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

The car rumbled through the grass and towards the aeroplane, driven by the pirate Masketta. He was a sleepy sort of chap, but in a subtly malevolent way, quite reminiscent of a snake; if one but listened closely and attentively enough, one could perchance hear him hiss.

The automobile came to a halt in front of the plane and the men alighted. They were greeted there by CIA, who stood stone-still, a veritable statue, his hands resting on his belt in the fashion of the frontiersmen of America. The pirate, eyes oozing sleaze, handed him over the good Doctor Pavel, CIA's prize as it were. There were four more men, however, all of their faces hidden by black bags. ''You do not get to bring friends,'' CIA informed the good doctor. When Pavel told CIA that they were not, in fact, his chums, the pirate clarified. ''They were trying to grab your prize. They are employed by the masked man.''

The sudden shock of the information distorted CIA's face, as if someone had dropped a heavy stone into a calm pond. An icy chill gripped his heart. ''Get them on board,'' the agency man ordered.

The aeroplane ascended into the gloomy skies, while inside, CIA was was in the process of extracting the truth, by any means necessary, from the men, but hitherto they had remained faithfully mute. CIA flung the plane door open, stuck one of the men out, and, thinking fast, intensified the potential doom that cast an imposing shadow on the man's Fate by sticking the barrel of his pistol on the back of the man's neck. No words came out of him, not a sound. ''A lot of loyalty for a hired gun,'' exclaimed CIA, ''which is good, since fidelity, after all, is all that we have in this tenebrous world.''

''Or perhaps he's wondering why someone would shoot a man before throwing him out a plane.'' These words, eery-sounding, came from one of the captive men. CIA approached him, glad that at least one had the power of speech. He removed the bag. The mask on his face was a kind of device, which amplified his voice and gave it a kind of metallic edge.

''If I pull that off, will you die?''
''It would be extremely painful.''
''You're a big guy.''
''For you.''

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 06:34:27 2015 No.7130232 >>7127052 That's very good

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 06:46:58 2015 No.7130257 >>7130184 heart of big guy, very nice

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 06:58:22 2015 No.7130278 someone do a good hemingway

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 08:14:06 2015 No.7130466
File: 55 KB, 620x387, chandler.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

It was about eleven o’clock in the morning in Uzbekistan, mid October, with the sun not shining and a car approaching us. I was wearing my dark cardigan, with light blue polo shirt, cargo pants with belt, and I had my hands resting cowboy-style on the belt. I was big, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed CIA ought to be. I was about to transport Dr. Pavel.

A car arrived and bunch of men got out as if from a clown car. The driver looked oilier than a frying pan in a cheap diner. I had asked for Pavel only, but he had brought other people, out of the kindness of his heart no doubt.

''What's the big idea? This ain't a shindig. You don't get to bring friends,'' I said.
''They ain't my friends, see,'' Pavel said.

The driver exhaled a big puff of smoke and began talking. ''They were trying to grab the doctor here. Don't worry, I'm not charging for them 'cause I'm such a swell guy, see. They work for the mercenary, the man with the mask.''

I probably turned whiter than Uncle Bob's ghost then. I lit a cigarette and took the longest draw my lungs allowed for. ''Alright, get 'em on board.''

Once the plane was in the air, I decided to try a rather risky maneuver. I took one of the crooks, opened the plane door, and pushed him out a little. I took my gat and poked the back of his head with it for added measure.

''Now look here,'' I said, ''You better tell me about Bane and you better tell me quick. And don't be stingy with the words or you'll have to learn how to fly. I want to know why he wears the mask.'' No response. I decided to risk it. I shot into the air and made as if I had gotten rid of him. ''It's a long way down and there ain't no cushions waiting for him. Lotta loyalty for a hired gun. Who wants to try next?''

No dice. One of them saw through it. ''Or perhaps he's wondering why someone would shoot a man, before throwing him out of a plane.'' He had a point. I had acted desperately and stupidly.

''At least you can talk. Who are you?''
''It doesn't matter who we are, what matters is our plan.'' I removed the bag that was covering his face. ''No one cared who I was until I put on the mask.''

I wondered how he could smoke with that thing on his face. ''I bet if I took that thing off you'd expire faster than a man's usefulness to a dangerous dame.''
''It would be extremely painful.''
''You're a big guy.''
''For you.''

I was in the soup and the cook was turning up the heat on the stove. Bane had wanted to get caught, and here we were, up in the skies in a plane that was about to be crashed.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 08:17:29 2015 No.7130472 >>7113617 I'm not the anon, but this is obviously the right answer.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 09:02:36 2015 No.7130551 >>7113267 >>7115321 >>7119314 Thank you for reminding me to finish The Baron in the Trees.

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 09:37:04 2015 No.7130616
File: 21 KB, 255x340, image.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

One morning, awaiting the arival of the good Doctor Pavel, Joseph CIA. found himself grasping his belt, legs splayed shoulder width apart affront a cargo plane against a craggy backdrop. Masketta, the captor enlisted to retrieve Doctor Pavel approached with the Doctor and three unknown captives in tow, thier faces shrowded. Joseph CIA., expecting recieving only the liberated Doctor, probed the now proximal Masketta as to the nature of these the unknown handcuffed captives. In a stifled and eerie tone he replied "These men work for the mercenary, the masketta man, this is all I may revel at this juncture although you may reach an understanding in time." Joseph CIA. Having heard whispers of the masked one in the corridors of office implored; "Bane?" Masketta nodded in conspiritorial confirmation. The three hooded captives who had been ushered onto the aircraft, now in transit, knelt before Joseph CIA. Following agency protocals he began to interogate the shrowded captives. "The flight plan I have filed with the penal conoly stipulates that only one of you may survive this punishment, that is the one who can disclose to me how one may reach acquittal." One of the three was dragged to the open aircraft door, Joseph CIA. buffeted by the wind vicioisly grasping the man and wielding a pistol cried "under what authority were you ordered to capture the country Doctor!" Firing a shot out of the open plane door Joseph CIA audibly muttered "like a dog!" the second veiled captive was dragged to the open door. Joseph CIA, with growing frustration cried "Tell me about the masked one, why can he reach the law? A lot of loyalty you have for someone in your position as lowly agent of the court." With a voice powerful, considered authority the third hooded captive spoke: "It is not unreasonable to imagine that the reason for this mans silence is none other than the fact that it is unreasonable to assume that a man in your position would shoot a man before casting out to what fate awaits him beyond the door" startled by this interuption Joseph CIA, grappling to regain composure in his manner, adressed this third captive "you will talk where others are silent, reveal your identity, I order you!" The captive solemly stated "It matters not who we are, this knowledge cannot help you, for what are such things before the Plan." Joseph CIA tentatively unveiled the bound captive realising he had in his very midst the masked one. "No one was concerned with the nature of my identity until I adorned this mask." Joseph CIA began "if I were to remove the apparatus attached to your face would your intransigent existence come to a sudden end" to which the masked one replied "it cause unfathomable pain if you were to do so" Joseph CIA. began again "How will I come know what charges are laid against me when you tirelessly stand guard at the gate, you are a man of imposing stature." to which the masked one replied "For you, indeed, this is the truth."

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 09:41:44 2015 No.7130627 >>7130616 Sorry about the attrocious grammar

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 09:45:09 2015 No.7130634 >>7130627 >post apologizing for grammar contains grammar mistake that's so kafkaesque

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 09:49:47 2015 No.7130645 >>7130634 Sorry about the atrocious apology.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:06:39 2015 No.7130674 Anyone eager to watch me attempt a mimicking of Raymond Chandler's style?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:12:01 2015 No.7130679 >>7130674 see >>7130466 but no one's stopping you from giving it a whirl fam.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:13:48 2015 No.7130682 >>7113267 Lovecraft?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:20:48 2015 No.7130705 >>7113704 A SCREAMING COMES ACROSS THE SKY. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to. [Bane.]

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:21:02 2015 No.7130706 >>7114403 This is in fucking iambic pentameter what the fuck how

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:40:45 2015 No.7130758 File: 279 KB, 1120x426, 1408478113251.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7114243 kek

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 10:47:55 2015 No.7130769 >>7130706 iambic pentameter isn't that difficult to write in

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 11:02:38 2015 No.7130801 >>7126004 Nice IOAWNAT allusion there, and it didn't suck, it was surprisingly nuanced

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 12:08:58 2015 No.7130982 File: 464 KB, 400x2800, baneposting.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7114401

>>	« Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ » Fri Sep 18 12:28:15 2015 No.7131023 >>7130706 No it isn't. Look at it again dipshit.

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 12:42:07 2015 No.7131057

A bigguys' wrath, to CIA the direful spring
Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing!
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The souls of mighty chiefs both thrown and slain;
Whose limbs unburied on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore.
Since great CIA and the bigguy strove,
Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove!

>>	« Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ » Fri Sep 18 12:42:45 2015 No.7131058 >>7131057 Shelley?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 12:48:47 2015 No.7131069 >>7131058 Alexander Pope

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 13:07:06 2015 No.7131124 >>7130758 Wait, is this an actual book?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 15:50:41 2015 No.7131628 >>7130466 10/10, especially the cheap diner line.

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 16:10:54 2015 No.7131684

>>7131023
Are you upset, Butterfly? Did something bad happen in your life?
I'll come over there and hug you if you ask nicely. Maybe we can have a beer and a grilled cheese and watch some of my torrented Simpsons episodes.
Old ones from when the show was good.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 16:51:20 2015 No.7131815 >>7130706 Iambic pentameter is super close to normal speech patterns (hence why it got so popular) and this isn't even strict iambic pentameter. It's very very -very- loosely iambic pentameter. It's still pretty good though, I kek'd.

The Masketta Fri Sep 18 18:12:29 2015 No.7132135

CIA and SOCRATES are on a plane with three prisoners. CIA pretends to execute the first prisoner in order to obtain a confession from the other two. Socrates begins by interrogating CIA on the nature of expertise, loyalty and inner virtue (120b-124a) after CIA claims to be the master of the plane. The third prisoner is revealed as BANE who then proposes that true virtue comes not through the knowledge an individual has, but through the individual serving the greater good as part of a whole (read notes xxvii-xxxi).

CIA: The first of you to talk can remain on my plane. He did not fly very well.
SOCRATES: My dear friend, do you feel in control?
CIA: Yes.
SOCRATES: Can you navigate this plane?
CIA: No.
SOCRATES: Is the captain of a ship not the master of the ship, or the expert rider master of horses?
CIA: I don't understand.
SOCRATES: Would it be cruel to allow one unskilled in the virtue of horse rearing to tend to horses?
CIA: Yes that would be cruel.
SOCRATES: And is not he who is most expert sailor the best suited to master a ship?
CIA: Yes, I suppose so.
SOCRATES: And it would be immoral to allow an unskilled man to captain a ship?
CIA: Certainly! The crew would surely drown!
SOCRATES: Then it follows that the controller of the craft should be he who is most skilled in the virtue of piloting. The pilot. It would be immoral to deviate from this. Much as we must be Governed by those who are skilled in the virtue of wisdom and protected by those skilled in the virtue of loyalty.
CIA: Yes Socrates, however I must question you in regards to loyalty
SOCRATES: Certainly.
CIA: This man before us appears to be particularly skilled in the virtue of loyalty despite being a mercenary.
SOCRATES: Who is the better doctor, he who is skilled in virtue of medicine; the treatment of bodily afflictions, balancing of humors, and so forth; or he who is the more convincing doctor?
CIA: The first, of course.
SOCRATES: but to one unskilled in the virtue of medicine, would he not believe the more convincing doctor to be the one most expert in the virtue of medicine, when he is in fact, unskilled in the virtue of medicine?
CIA: Yes, I suppose they would.
SOCRATES: And, my dear CIA, are you expert in the virtue of loyalty?
CIA: I must admit I am not.
SOCRATES: Then you cannot be sure if he is skilled in the virtue of loyalty or whether he is the most convincing.
THIRD PRISONER: Yes Socrates I agree. Perhaps CIA, he is instead wondering why you would shoot a man before throwing him out of a plane?
CIA: A clever fellow indeed. Who are you?
THIRD PRISONER: We are nothing. We are the dirt beneath your feet. And no one cared who I was until I put on the mask. [CIA, wary, approaches the Third Prisoner - pulls off his hood, revealing a dark mask with a breathing apparatus. The eyes behind it are cold. Still. This is Bane.]
THIRD PRISONER: Who we are does not matter. What matters is our plan.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 18:19:39 2015 No.7132152 >>7132135 NOTHING, I KNOW NOTHING

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 18:32:25 2015 No.7132194 >>7132135 Is this what is called a socratic dialgoue?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 18:38:11 2015 No.7132221 >>7126095 His narrative style can actually be rather hard to pin down, which is why it took so long for someone to call it on the first post

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 18:50:15 2015 No.7132264

>>7132221
I tried to combine what I deemed to be the average of his voices, attempting to combine the magical realism of Invisible Cities Cosmicomics and his fairytales, the levity of his fairytales and Palomar and of course the postmodern metafiction of If On a Winters Night which is the big tell. But admittedly I don't think I quite had the skill to encapsulate his voice.

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 20:18:35 2015 No.7132591 >>7132135 thank god Glaucon did not appear

Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:00:30 2015 No.7132933

Hey kiddo, didn't cya there! So lets talk about something. I wanna tell you something. You know what it is? Guess. You wanna know? Come on you peon, take a guess. RRRRRN wrong! Wanna take another guess? I highly recommend it! Haha wrong again you faggot!

Listen, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret here. Keys to the castle, jingle jangle motherfucker. I dangle the keys and you just piss yourself with laughter isn't that right? agoo goo ga goo ga. Anyway so here is a situation I'm sure were all at least a little kinda familiar with.

You are standing beside a plane in a baby blue polo and khakis with a perfect coif like one of the faggot "band members" in one direction; and you are standing there with your navy blue Lacoste jacket and your thumbs tucked under your belt because you are such a hipster faggot. And oh, whats this? A jeep. Pay attention because I'm only going to say this once. Stop focussing on yourself FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTEHEHEHEHEHE! And listen to me! Oh, its too fucking late they are already out of the jeep. Quick, think about something to say. Holy shit, you dumb idiot. So you notice "hey, its Pavel", maybe if I hadn't been so focussed on my hipster post-ironic bullshit fashion sense, I might have been in tune with my immediate surroundings. Oh well, that ship fucking sailed. So you come up with some bullshit. "Dr. Pavel, I'm CIA" because you are such a fucking corporate drone I guess you followed in the weaboo faggot style of your slant eyed cartoon drawing overlords and decided to introduce yourself with your fucking company name. Ah but whats this? Wild card! Wild card! Wild card! A bunch of other assholes with hoods. Who are these hooded assholes? Well let me clue you in. maybe, just maybe they aren't the sort of random fucking maniacs you should just invite onto your aeroplane! "Oh gee I wonder if one of these hooded guys I failed to identify as Bane is Bane"

So you're all on the airplane going for a nice family outing, just like those times you used to go camping and your dad would be magically short a sleeping bag. You remember those days buddy? Cause I do... So you're flying at a solid altitude and you make a fucking rookie mistake. You start threatening to throw these guys out of the plane but you fire your gun because you're a triggerhappy fucking maniac and ooooo it makes you feel like a big man, doesn't it? And then one of these guys points out what a plebeian fucking dumbshit you are. And then like a dumbass you think he is going to cop but oh no! Whats this? Could it be? PEOPLE OF GOTHAM TAKE BACK YOR SHITTY!" God that was a fucking horrible movie. And that fucking styrofome in salinated glutton they give you "DO YOU WANT BUTTAH WITH THAT MASSA?" And before you know it. "oh no, my pwanes being ambushed because I wet Bane pway wiff it! Oh no!" Serves you right you fucking dumbass. You people make me fucking roll my eyes. Do you realize how much I fucking hate you?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:08:39 2015 No.7132969 >>7132933 In the style of 4chan?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:15:16 2015 No.7132996 File: 47 KB, 500x437, image.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7132969 Ah, fuck, forgot my pic

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:17:38 2015 No.7133007 >>7132996 somewhere where people are gonna be, but people aint gonna see I went to a very expensive college I'm almost 30 years old

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:22:16 2015 No.7133017 >>7133007 Wut?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:24:41 2015 No.7133024 >>7113267 Pushkin?

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:25:38 2015 No.7133031 >>7133024 We already established its Calvino you piece of shit

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:31:26 2015 No.7133051 >>7132933 You certainly captured how annoying he is

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:32:16 2015 No.7133054 >>7133031 Now listen you queer - you call me a piece of shit once more and I'll sock you and you'll stay plastered

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:39:29 2015 No.7133075 requesting a faulkner one because i'm too lazy to do it

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:40:52 2015 No.7133079 >>7133075 It would probably suck if you did it anyway because you are human garbage

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:44:56 2015 No.7133091 >>7133079 :(

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:46:42 2015 No.7133094 >>7133079 >being a spaz

>>	Anonymous Fri Sep 18 22:52:36 2015 No.7133116 >>7133094 A drunk spaz no less!

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 01:08:35 2015 No.7133584 >>7132933 >>7132996 A lot of this just doesn't sound like Hyde

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 14:02:20 2015 No.7135432 >>7133584 Looked pretty on the spot to me

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 14:48:19 2015 No.7135578 File: 40 KB, 247x248, 1436335387453.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7130466

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 14:56:08 2015 No.7135609 >>7130466 I JUST REALIZED CIA SAYS OUT LOUD "HE DIDNT FLY SO WELL" SO THAT THE OTHER GUYS WITH BAG ON HEADS THINK HE THREW HIM OUT BUT THEN BANE OUTSMARTS HIM BY POITING OUT THERE WAS NO NEED TO SHOOT HIM

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 15:05:44 2015 No.7135647 >>7131124 It's a microstory: tell a story in 6 words. It's a reference to one attributed to Hemingway. >For sale: baby shoes, never worn

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 15:07:31 2015 No.7135652 >>7114811 >no blatant admission that he kills people for fun that isn't event notice 8/10, best I can do

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 15:57:32 2015 No.7135805 This is the best thread.

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 16:33:04 2015 No.7135940 >>7135647 I know this, you idiot. I wondered if it was actually the subject of a published book however

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 16:35:10 2015 No.7135948 >>7135609 I only figured this out two days ago. TDKR truly has deepest lore.

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 16:39:19 2015 No.7135963 >>7135940 It's a microstory, you dip!

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 16:42:57 2015 No.7135971 Poorly flying, a lotta loyalty, unshot

Anonymous Sat Sep 19 17:18:37 2015 No.7136065
File: 36 KB, 216x192, Stefan_Zweig2[1].png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Seine Vorgesetzten hatten ihm die titanische Verantwortung dieser Mission übertragen, abgeschieden von aller Welt in den Bergen Usbekistans, ein Sender des Lichts Amerikas' in einem von Krieg und Korruption zerrissenen Land - er fühlte sich erhaben wie ein Prometheus, stand ein gegen das Dunkle in dieser Welt der Sterblichen.
Noch nichts wusste er von seinem Schicksal, welches sich bereits entschieden hatte: Hephaistos schmiedete Prometheus an das Atlas-Gebirge und die steinernen Berge Usbekistans' würden auch sein Ende bedeuten, das Ende seines Lichts, denn ein großer Feind zog heran, geboren und geformt in der Dunkelheit.
Nur er hatte das Kommando inne, und seine Körpersprache verriet nichts von der enormen Anspannung unter der er litt. Seine Nerven waren wie Stahlseile gespannt, doch noch hielten sie seinen Körper aufrecht, auf beiden Beinen, breitbeinig, die Hände am ledernen Gürtel, vor dem Aeroplan - seinem Aeroplan. Seine Untergebenen umringten ihn, wie einen Schutzwall, wie eine väterliche vernarbte Hand zu der alsbald fremde Männer hinzustießen, eine väterliche Hand, welche sich jeden Moment zur Faust ballen konnte.
In seinen Ohren rauschte es jetzt wie von Geigen. Er gab einen Geldkoffer, erhielt einen der Fremden zum Tausch, stellte sich selbst als Person hinter seine Behörde und sprach zu dem Eingetauschten: "Guten Tag, Doktor Pavel. Ich bin CIA."

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 17:50:13 2015 No.7136191 >>7117165 Isn't Bane the antithesis of capitalism tho?

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 17:54:32 2015 No.7136209 File: 173 KB, 441x421, 1440820394820.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7113314 This is fucking spectacular

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 18:07:09 2015 No.7136252 >>7135963 Which is why I asked in such an apparently beguiled way

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 18:13:44 2015 No.7136287 >>7136065 Fuck you

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 19:20:45 2015 No.7136543 >>7127110 Mishima?

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 19:26:11 2015 No.7136568 For sale: new sack, never used

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 19:33:47 2015 No.7136603 File: 46 KB, 272x351, 1410925536013.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7132152

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 20:54:10 2015 No.7136830 >>7115909 thanks

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 20:57:50 2015 No.7136837 File: 122 KB, 452x391, girugamesh.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7122895

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 21:06:02 2015 No.7136858 >>7136543 it would have ended in Bane going down with the plane and getting off from it

Anonymous Sat Sep 19 21:18:14 2015 No.7136901
File: 484 KB, 723x1000, tao-lin.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

CIA handed the man a briefcase.
"Dr. Pavel, I'm CIA," said CIA
"He wasn't alone," said the man.
"Uh, you don't get to bring friends," said CIA.
"They are not my friends," said Dr. Pavel.
CIA looked at Dr. Pavel then he looked at the man.
"Don't worry, no choice for them," said the man.
Another man brought three other men with black bags over their heads out of the car.
"And why would I want them?" said CIA.
"They were trying to grab your prize," said the man.
CIA shrugged.
"They work for the mercenary, the masked man," said the man.
CIA looked at the man with a neutral facial expression for 5 seconds.
"Bane?" said CIA.
The man looked at CIA with a neutral facial expression. CIA turned around.
"Get them on board, I'll call it in," said CIA.
They all sat on the plane as it flew through the air past a cliff. Doctor Pavel buckled his seatbelt.
"The flight plan I just filed with the agency lists me, my men, Dr. Pavel here, but only one of you," said CIA.
CIA took his gun out of his holster. CIA pointed his gun toward the door of the airplane. One of CIA's men opened the door of the aircraft.
"First one to talk gets to stay on my aircraft," said CIA.
CIA pointed his gun at the door of the aircraft. One of CIA's men pulled one of the men with black masks to the door of the aircraft. One of CIA's men hung one of the men with black masks out of the door of the aircraft. The man with the black mask who was hanging out of the door of the aircraft felt his heart beating faster than it was the last time he noticed his heart beating.
"Who paid you to grab Dr. Pavel?" said CIA.
The man with the black mask who was hanging out of the door of the aircraft imagined himself as a small, red dot moving through a three dimensional graph that included himself, CIA, CIA's men, Dr. Pavel, the aircraft, the country they were in as individual points that were slowly, perceptibly gaining increasingly large amounts of distance between each other. CIA fired his gun out of the door of the aircraft.
"He didn't fly so good. Who wants to try next?" said CIA.
One of CIA's men moved the man whose head was hanging out of the door of the aircraft into the aircraft. One of CIA's men another man with a black mask to the door of the aircraft.

Will write more by request. I started with old style Tao then integrated some new Tao.

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 21:20:00 2015 No.7136905 >>7133031 Anon who wrote the piece you think is Calvino. It ain't Calvino.

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 21:31:45 2015 No.7136957 >>7136905 Which one?

>>	Anonymous Sat Sep 19 21:38:33 2015 No.7136981 >>7136901 whats the difference between old and new Tao?

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 02:13:07 2015 No.7137926 >>7130801 >IOAWNAT?

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 02:14:30 2015 No.7137930 >>7136981 Old concrete literal. New: can afford to hire an editor.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 02:15:44 2015 No.7137935 >>7136901 You fucked up by not having the age behind the character. >CIA [44] handed the man a briefcase.

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 05:03:20 2015 No.7138339

>>7132933
Billy was just a normal 20-something CIA agent. Although Billy was not the smartest in his class (he was a man, after all), he was the top student in his divide-and-conquer classes at the Mossad University-for-overgrown-children in Tel Aviv, Israel. His father -- the general -- had taught him all there was to know about tricking the goyim and making the most for his you-know-whos overlords and was well on his way to making one hundred kay per annum as a bona fide Mossad double-agent spy selling American technologies to the Chinese for a discount price, after a 10 year unpaid internship as a human toilet for his Chosen masters.

Billy was standing next to his plane: a customized Toyota Corolla 86 -- also known as a Hachiroku -- with custom carbon-fiber wings and a custom train engine that could reach mach one in under three seconds thanks to the customized Bomex carbon-fiber body kit that would give it extra air. Also, the seats were replaced by milk crates for extra space and reduced weight. Billy was wearing the standard CIA uniform, a sort of Mad Max-type apocalypse scenario leather jacket with spikes and a shoulder pad, along with his trusty khaki pants that made him look like Jim Raynor from the American game Starcraft.

Then, Billy noticed smoke appearing on the horizon. With his trusty iPhone by Steve Jobs -- the most advanced piece of technology, 100% American-made and not some gobbledy gook chink device like a Samsung phone -- peered into the distance using the zoom feature of the Polaroid app. His contact -- the musket man -- was busily drifting over the dirt and grass of the Uzbekistan plains with his Aston Martin, customized with a Bomex carbon-fiber body kit and customized jet engine that meant he could drift at speeds of over 300 mph and still pass the Moose test with flying colours and could only be beaten by a Citroen Xantian 1999 edition. Also, the seats were replaced by milk crates for extra space.

One final drift and the musket man stopped right within an inch of Billy's face. This was only possible thanks the superior brake disk from stock made by the British auto maker. Billy was impressed as he had never seen a non-ethnic Japanese perform such a feat.

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 05:31:29 2015 No.7138386

>>7138339
"Hey there, Billy." said the musket man. "I'm CIA" spurted Billy, who's crippling social anxiety caused by being raised by a piece-of-shit single mom due to you-know-whodaic feminists corrupting the American justice system had resurfaced. Billy pinched his thighs to punish himself for his stupidity.

Dr. Pavel -- a member of the Chosen Tribe for whom the American taxpayer had spent millions to sponsor this rescue mission while genuine blue-collard Americans were seeing their livelihood taken away by the Federal government -- stepped forward, flanked by three hooded figures. "Y-you don't get to bring friends" said Billy, who was afraid of large crowds due to the fluoride water calcifying his Pineal gland, as he had learned from watching marathons of Joe Rogan's experience and Alex Jones Infowars. "These are not my friends" replied Dr. Pavel. Billy pinched his thigh even harder for being so stupid as to assume that these people were friends of Dr. Pavel.

"Don't worry, no charge for them", said the musket man, smirking quite you-know-whoishly. That smile should have aroused a sense of suspicion in Billy, but Billy was mentally stunted from having his body pumped full of petroleum chemicals not tested for cancer and growth hormones in meat from eating American non-Kosher food as a result of the FDA being corrupted by Monsanto which is literally the worst corporation on earth. Did you know that Monsanto copyrights pieces of genetic code in its grains so that if a farmer's plot accidentally grows Monsanto copyrighted crops, it can sue to farmer and take over its land? Did you also know that Monsanto receives billions in subsidies despite generating trillions in revenues? And did you know that Monsanto's board of directors is 80% composed of people who belong to a ethno-religious group that makes up only 1% of the US population? Hmmm...

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 06:12:34 2015 No.7138427
File: 40 KB, 400x600, Céline-Louis-Ferdinand.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Alors la voiture s'est arrêtée devant un de ces avions modernes, pas chaleureux, non, et puis trop gros. Ils ne les font plus à taille humaine, les avions. Le type de la CIA nous attendait avec un sourire pas sincère. D'ailleurs il n'y a que des couches de pourriture, au fond, sous la politesse de ces gens-là. " Bonjour, docteur Pavel " qu'il me dit, le type de la CIA, " vous ne pouvez pas inviter d'amis ". " C'est pas mes amis " je lui ai répondu, piqué, " et puis d'abord j'en ai plus, moi, des amis; ça vous passe ". Alors on y est monté, dans leur avion. Ils m'ont fait asseoir devant, mais je les entendais qui torturaient les autres qu'ils avaient capturé, derrière moi. Les américains aussi, ils torturent, que je me suis dit. Après tout c'est un sport qui ne passe pas de mode. Ils ont tiré des coups de feu pour les impressionner. Ca n'a pas eu l'air de marcher. Enfin tout de même, il y en a un qui s'est mis à parler. Il avait la voix de Monsieur Grangeard, qui était venu à la clinique quelques fois pour son cancer de la gorge. Ils se sont mis à discuter.
" Tout le monde s'en foutait, de moi... avant que je mette le masque...
- Eh quoi ! si je vous l'enlevais, le masque, vous en crèveriez ?
- C'est que ce serait très douloureux.. oui... extrêmement douloureux monsieur...
- Vous êtes un grand gaillard !
- POUR VOUS ! " qu'il a hurlé, le type avec la voix de Monsieur Grangeard.
Le reste, je ne m'en souviens pas. On m'a raconté ensuite que l'avion s'était écrasé, on m'a dit que j'en avais bien eu, de la chance, d'avoir survécu. Le reste de mes souvenirs est passé vers la nuit, tout au bout... comme nous autre aussi, et puis tout le reste, un jour...

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 06:25:22 2015 No.7138448 >>7138427 Fuck you too

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 06:27:00 2015 No.7138450 >>7138448 ?

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 06:45:52 2015 No.7138471 >>7138450 he's meeming

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 06:46:39 2015 No.7138473 File: 112 KB, 261x362, 1380568399270.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7138427 >Il avait la voix de Monsieur Grangeard, qui était venu à la clinique quelques fois pour son cancer de la gorge

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 07:47:39 2015 No.7138566 >>7130257 >not heart of dark night >posting

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 08:00:00 2015 No.7138595 >>7138427 good one

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 09:36:30 2015 No.7138775 >>7114215 Nice

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 09:57:01 2015 No.7138824

Man's arrogance sometimes tempts him take more prisoners than he needs, in historic conflicts as in philosophy. If he doesn't learn to control them, they might end up controlling him. Schopenhauer made this mistake and his metaphysics became too big for him, although I won't deny that he was a big guy. His romantic plane crashed with no survivors. Or was crashing it part of the plan? The fire of modernity is rising and we shouldn't be afraid of it, we, the happy few supermen.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 12:58:38 2015 No.7139334 >>7113267 Its vonnegut you fucktards

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 15:24:34 2015 No.7139797
File: 170 KB, 500x500, Georges-Perec-0093ba3b92b997ac2722b8cc4d102cbe.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Didn't really go for the style strictly speaking. It's pretty shitty, but it was a lot harder to write than I thought.

L’auto arriva, trois forts gaillards à son bord. Un caïd jouait au costaud dans l’inaction du tarmac. « Nous travaillons pour la CIA, toubib » dit-il. « Mais nous n’autorisons pas vos amis à bord.
-J’ai pas d’amis, lui affirma l’hardi garçon.
-Montons. Il nous faut partir. »
L’avion fuyait dans l’air infini du jour. Au fond du coucou, un soldat tortionnait un truand : il allait choir dans l’azur hadal sauf s’il concourait. Sans subornation, un sac parla d’un coup :
« -Ta nation n’avait aucun souci à mon propos avant mon choix. Soit couvrir mon ciboulot d’un turban d’airain.
-Supposons qu’un idiot l’ait ravi dans son poing. Alors, mourras-tu ?
-J’aurai plus mal qu’un Satan chutant du Paradis.
-Tu as pourtant l’air d’un grand garçon.
-Pour toi. »

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 17:02:16 2015 No.7140244 >>7116206 One of the best IMO

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 17:03:36 2015 No.7140253 >>7139797 Des barres

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 17:15:49 2015 No.7140311 >>7139334 Vonnegut is about as austere and curt (get it?) as prose can be

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 18:01:47 2015 No.7140543 >>7140253 Merci

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 20:55:08 2015 No.7141317 >>7114811 >I pull it off to reveal, a bald head? "Very out of style this year," I mutter under my breath. fucking kek

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:00:03 2015 No.7141356 >>7116206 Well done fam

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:17:13 2015 No.7141437
File: 41 KB, 650x413, woolf1-e1402796124116-650x413.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

"I see a plane" said Pavel "And I see CIA, standing with his hands on his belt"

"I see men," said CIA "Bags over their heads, quivering in the wind. From where does this power emanate"

"Nothing, I see nothing", Said Bane "These people prod at me. Time will soon be at hand. I hear the propellers of the plane whirring, I feel them slice at the base of time. All these blind hours collapsing into nothing, I still see nothing"

"I see this gun" said CIA "And it fires into the open air, O how I would travel with that bullet, out from this male form."

"For you" said Bane "What did he say? What did I say. I can see at last, the white cabin, the seats, stagnant in this great ark."

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:19:39 2015 No.7141446 >>7141437 Fucking incredible. I or somebody else really need to make a version in the style of "Circe" from Ulysses.

Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:25:50 2015 No.7141470
File: 14 KB, 288x284, raymond carver.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>7113249
The car rolled up to the plane and three men stepped out.

You don't get to bring friends, CIA said.

They work for the mercenary, said one man.

Bane?

Aboard, one of the men didn't fly so good.

Maybe he wonders why you would shoot him before throwing him out of a plane, a masked man said.

Bane?

CIA looked him in the eye.

If I took that mask off, would you die?

It would hurt, Bane said.

What's the next part of your plan?

Crashing this plane, Bane said. Another craft came into view out the window.

The conversation ended then, more abruptly than it had started.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:27:09 2015 No.7141478 >>7135609 holy shit, you're right

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:27:15 2015 No.7141479 >>7141437 damn

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:38:26 2015 No.7141530 >>7136901 >not rewriting the dialogue 5/10 for effort

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:39:30 2015 No.7141538 >>7141437 Holy shit this is good. Well done.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:44:31 2015 No.7141557 >>7135609 >>7135948 >>7141478 >This and all the retards that didn't understand "for you" was a continuation of "it would be painful" I really underestimated the level of retardation in the world.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 21:45:03 2015 No.7141558 >>7141557 Oh yeah ? Well I fucked your mom.

>>	Anonymous Sun Sep 20 22:05:39 2015 No.7141621 >>7130616 Underrated post, 10/10

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:04:51 2015 No.7142010
File: 409 KB, 1280x740, 1437496372527.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>7136191

No. Pure Socialism with a dystopian twist, let's say closer to Huxlian is the opposite of Bane.

Bane is the brutal, the controlled, individually strong, advocate of systemic chaos and personal responsibility to the extent that he shoulders the singular burden of his love's father, the destruction of the perceived corrupt. Huxlian is the opposite, in that they are focused on the alleviation of pain and focus on pleasure, negative discipline, total systemic control and positive corruption.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:07:53 2015 No.7142020 >>7136191 Sort of. He uses socialist ideals as a front to create civil unrest... I guess... So he can create a distraction while he tries to blow up Gotham with a nuke? It was pretty dumb at any rate

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:37:27 2015 No.7142111

It is perhaps at once both chilling and aweful, I think, to grasp the number and nature of boundaries man has overstepped in his brief and pitiable time upon our insignificant planet. Our transient race has, in a short matter of decades, gone from crude, fumbling attempts at launching ourselves into the empyrean, to proving ourselves capable at traversing a medium we were never meant to inhabit by means that themselves prove tenebrous and wholly unreliable. Aeronauts will, of course, insist that there is no safer and expeditious way to travel than to allow oneself to be taken up into the iron belly of an aeroplane so resembling a winged beast of the primordial skies, but I myself have reservations that began upon the recounting of a scavenged message pried from the unfeeling obsidian of a so-called “black box” given to me by one of my more disquistive, and recently deceased, associates at Miskatonic University. I took it upon myself to delve into the recounting of the records, perhaps in hope of finding out where the strange piece had come from, and motivated by a blind optimism I would soon come to regret. The disquieting events that are to follow have not been embellished, but do in truth reveal something dark and rotten lurking at the core of man’s being; I then urge thee to save yourself from the grip of a terrible knowledge which has plagued me since its discovery.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:38:48 2015 No.7142115

>>7142111
It occurred several years ago, 2013, when the Central Intelligence Agency dispatched to the land of the Uzbecks a man whose purpose was to collect a then-notorious criminal who had plagued them for years. The agent, a man who so wholly embodied the system he chose to name himself after it, was entrusted with this task as befitting his authority and practice. Across the landscape, which stretched greyly into the horizon and had the appearance of a long-dead and much stretched skin of some necrotic beast, progressed a convoy of vehicles which soon came to meet CIA and his assorted inspectors at the foot of the plane. An exchange between men of the same profession quickly took place, though CIA was astonished to find that his associate, the Masketta Man, an operator of vehicles of some renown who himself had worked in the region for years, had captured men working for the very mercenary he had been sent to subdue. Scarcely prepared for the situation which soon followed the news of these three men, CIA felt a brief aversion to the men before him, perhaps a primal relic of man’s senses from when he was no more than a beast, yet duty triumphed over fear, and he soon after took the men into the plane.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:40:44 2015 No.7142125

>>7142115
With the criminals arrayed kneeling in front of him, CIA considered the most efficient methods of interrogation he had learned, but was unwilling to compromise his stoic demeanor and composition in front of men of a lesser race. CIA, with the head of a man who could be described as “relatively cool”, instead chose to threaten the men without alerting them to the charade he was soon to attempt. The first of them was brought to his feet, and only then was it revealed that he did not stand as a man should, but was instead twisted in ways that would be impossible and defied rational geometry. Now feeling the sluggish touch of fear seep into his bones, CIA ventured a question that I can recount only with pity considering the events that were to soon follow, “Who told you to grab Doctor Pavel?” The hunched form that resembled a man remained silent as the void, provoking the agent to fire his gun and voice another threat in sheer desperation. Had his subject been a man, it doubtless would have served to frighten, but such beings are beyond fear, nay, they are so beyond humanity that to them, we must be as ants. At that moment, from the back of the plane, in a terrible language that I shall do my best to attempt translating, came what can only be described as a hideous braying chant that appears as follows: “P’rhps hsei wyn’rng y’dshttaman bfrthro’inghm ottfplane”.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 00:41:45 2015 No.7142130

>>7142125
CIA, displaying an uncommon amount of courage, steeled himself and raised his gun to confront the beast placed before him by all the cruel machinations of fate. Lifting the cowl which so mercilessly kept the thing hidden from the eyes of sane men, CIA could only exclaim in horror “You’re a big guy”, to which the response was a howl of “Fhtagn’u”. Only now could he appreciate the true malignant splendor of the thing in front of him, with its hairless, bloated head resembling an enormous cephalopod, and its piercing black eyes which betrayed only endless contempt for the world of man. Its fearful visage was, however, dominated by an edifice of dark tubing and mechanics, which plunged directly into the misshapen skull of the fell thing, I find myself unable to forget the thing’s cyclopean form. CIA, upon seeing a prospective weakness, and thus deliverance from the beast, realized it would be extremely painful to tear at the device attached to the thing’s face. But, as if reading his thoughts before he even had the chance to thing them, the thing burbled “Wuldbi’vry pgnfll fhtagn’u”. Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises heard by CIA at that moment, yet here the recording fails, as does my resolve. Suffice to say that neither the aeroplane nor CIA were ever seen afterwards, and though there has never been more proof of the beast, there is undeniably something greater and more terrible than man somewhere in the vastness of existence, something simply biding its time before its fire rises once more.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 01:12:36 2015 No.7142213 >>7141557 Hardy and Nolan both said in their AMAs it's about being a big guy.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 01:35:53 2015 No.7142261 File: 285 KB, 889x1126, 30219-30193-091-.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7132135 I know Ancient Greek and I wrote a thesis on Socratic method (elenchos) in seven Platonic dialogues. I give you a 10/10. Pure gold.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 02:12:16 2015 No.7142324 Please someone screencap every one of these treasures.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 02:46:54 2015 No.7142393

There was a little airstrip in the great motherly plains of Uzbekistan - rich with toil of good deeds done despite the grey of communist rule lingering from some time ago. I'd ditched the rails and had scored a security job for these mercenaries - hell the pay was good and I got to ride around a big green jeep all day so I thought what did it matter? Can't do me no harm. Anyway, so I said, 'hey, what're we doin' out here anyway?' but O they kept looking straight and determined and I just kept on looking out the window disregarding the strange noises made from under the potato sack that masked this behemoth man beside me, oblivious to these questions unanswered.

Our stop was met by a real beautiful man, blue shirted and boisterous with authority - "Doc' he sez 'Dr Pavel? I'm Christopher Ishmael Andrews... most call me CIA.' I thought he was the most handsome man in all of these rolling hills and flanked by armed men and this beautiful white whale of a jet I was determined to buy cargo pants the moment I got home.

So he sez; "Uh - you don't get to bring friends". The man I only knew as the mosquito man on account of some strange tale I had no idea about bartered with blue eyes, he said; "Oh no trouble!" and so on.

Anyway, soon enough they were aboard the plane, and I sat warm and heartened, knowing that for CIA, everything will be alright.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 02:50:30 2015 No.7142408 File: 38 KB, 413x395, 1426093472676.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7132135

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 03:24:30 2015 No.7142473 >>7142111 >>7142115 >>7142125 >>7142130 excellent.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 05:45:01 2015 No.7142724

... No less curious is the story of an officer presiding over the interrogation of a band of outlaws. In this story, as it is variously told in the villages surrounding the region of Cuantromenton, the officer is sometimes a spy; the interrogation, a simulated execution; the outlaws captured guerilleros; and their leader, whose head is either masked or covered in a bag, may even be revealed to be something more (or less) than a man. The only point of convergence found between these stories is in the final exchange, held shortly before the men fall to their deaths. As the captor questions this leader of men on a point of mortality, and supposedly on what its loss would entail, the latter replies: "It would be extremely painful". To the officer's retort, protesting that this outlaw is "a big man", he finally answers - "For you". Two versions exist (both using these same words, spoken by the same characters) which are given equal credence. Rumors however persist of a third interpretation, using the same words still, according to which the last two are not an answer directed to the officer, nor to the captive himself, but instead at the very recipient of the tale. ...

(from the notes of C. O'Nuallan, on "Mythologies of the Black Knight")

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 06:27:33 2015 No.7142795

Today in our fair capital city one hears of a certain type of man, who, if those magnificent wives of chief councillors were to discuss him their soirees, would be the object of such vile and pestilent ridicule as to make the most decrepit underlings who perpetually shuffle in the antechambers down the hall cock up their ears and make an abominable grimace. But, who, you ask, is capable of making the lowliest of officials take their miserable lives in stride? What kind of man could possibly come in for such mockery from our society ladies? In order to explain the origins of this strange phenomenon, let me, by way of example, relate the tale about a supreme gentleman, a certain Cheslav Ivanovich Anschultz, who, by a strange German custom, ingratiated himself to his fellow acquaintances by the initials CIA. Ah, what a fine fellow our CIA was!

... sorry getting tired will continue tomorrow i guess

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 09:39:16 2015 No.7143181 >>7142724 also excellent. i feel like someone could do a good Krasznahorkai single sentence one, but i'm not up to the task

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 12:02:06 2015 No.7143643

‘With words barren on your feet, step softly. The rose garden of superstition bares its thorns only to the gymnosophists’
- Bacon Agrippa, 1632, Daemon’s Branch

There he was, standing before me. His muscles pulsing in isochronal majesty. One of the men to be escorted, threatened, to be shown a brief glimpse of Gaia as she spreads her legs below him, threatening re-entry to her fertile womb. My eyes refocus as time dashed by, my gun at the back of a man’s head, pushing him towards air, reminding him that demise is at hand if he doesn’t come to understand the truth.
Oi! Raymundo! Juliet! Isolde! Eden sits below us, but only the sinners are offered the chance of return. We convinced ourselves it was all real, that they knew the plan, that it was a master plan. It didn’t matter if it was real, we knew it all the same.
“A lot of loyalty for a hired gun” I broke the veil of threats with this phrase of almost admiration. But I was making this up. My explanation was just like the Plan: substituting wishes for reality.
“Or perhaps”, the bag spilled its contents, “He was wondering what sort of Agent mumbles Freemason pledges to himself”
“At least you can talk”, I replied. Bags didn’t normally talk to me. I had hope, serenity, and amor fati. I had breached the secret of this body with a bag for a head, I could see that what I thought disenchantment and a philosophy of life was a form of melancholy. His intellectual disrespect concealed a desperate thirst for the Absolute.
Aim high, bag. First love, the Most Blessed Virgin.
“Who are you?” I questioned without fully comprehending what I was asking.
“It doesn’t matter who we are, who you are, it is not ‘who’ that matters. What matters is the plan. Your enthusiasm for it comes from your ambition to write a book. No matter if your book is made entirely of errors, intentional, deadly errors…As long as you remain in your flying vacuum, you can pretend you ae in harmony with the One.”
I touched the bag, a gentle caress like my mother used to do to my face as a child. I miss the lavender scent of her bosom.
“If I pull this off…will you die?”
“It would be extremely obscure”
Suddenly he loomed above me despite kneeling beneath me. His size, another continent, the lost Athenian ruins. Mankind crafted him in their image.
“You’re a big guy”
“Fullar yullaakka”
“Was getting caught part of your plan?” it had to be his. If it was mine, I was lost.

“To each memorable image you attach a thought, a label, a category, a piece of the cosmic furniture, syllogisms, an enormous sorites, chains of apothegms, strings of hypallages, rosters of zeugmas, dances of hysteron proteron, apophantic logoi, hierarchic stoichea, processions of equinoxes and parallaxes, herbaria, genealogies of gymnosophists— and so on, to infinity”

One of us has to remain.
One of us.
We’re all one of them.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 13:36:17 2015 No.7143885 >>7136065 As a German, I say Fucking Awesome, very well done!

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 14:00:57 2015 No.7143956 >>7142130 Amazing. The only possible improvements would be to add the word 'eldritch' a few times and maybe some racism about Uzbecks.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 14:26:38 2015 No.7144032 >>7143643 Damn, I don't know who this is but want to read him/her. My uneducated stab-in-the-dark guess would be... Umberto Eco? >>7141437 Also damn. Never read Woolf, really want to now...

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 14:56:11 2015 No.7144122 >>7144032 It's probably borges.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:04:43 2015 No.7144149 >>7144122 it's very unlike Borges (for comparison >>7142724 is obvious) reads more like Zelazny?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:21:09 2015 No.7144212 >>7113314 >>7113420 >>7114403 >>7138427 >>7141437 Definitely one of the best threads in a while.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:24:54 2015 No.7144223 Is anyone saving these?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:24:55 2015 No.7144224 >>7144149 Actually yeah sorry on second read it's looking less like borges.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:35:18 2015 No.7144266 Why is baneposting so powerful? How did a meme become so resilient, so rich, so inspiring?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:44:21 2015 No.7144296 >>7144266 The fire can only rise.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:49:45 2015 No.7144312 File: 966 KB, 1876x1528, WITH NO SURVIVORS.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7144266 Every time it gets close to death something gives it new life.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:52:26 2015 No.7144323 >>7138427 Ho putain. Ce fil est d'un niveau qu'on atteint pas souvent ici.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 15:59:50 2015 No.7144349 >>7144323 Le baneposting a un niveau de pouvoir mémétique tellement fort que tout contact direct engendre une force créatrice irrépressible propageant sans cesse de nouveaux mémés.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:14:41 2015 No.7144409

>>7144349
Si j'étais pas à ce point une queue quand il s'agit de tourner les alexandrins, je ferais Baudelaire.

Balzac serait plus facile, à la rigueur, mais ça impliquerait un pavé d'affinois de descriptions que je me sens pas de taper non plus.

Allez, y'a bien un francophone doué qu'a du temps à offrir à une grande cause.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:28:21 2015 No.7144454 >>7144409 Dumb frogposter

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:30:26 2015 No.7144460 >>7144409 Baudelaire a fait de la prose poétique. Sinon il faudrait tente le La Fontaine ou Camus.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:32:24 2015 No.7144465 >>7144349 >mémés O_o

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:32:49 2015 No.7144467 >critique threads are filled with shit >everybody some how turns into a professional writer through the power of bane Bane once again confirmed for best meme.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:37:59 2015 No.7144482

>>7144460
La prose de Baudelaire vaut pas le quart de ses sonnets peh (pour être honnête).

>Camus
Un anglo s'en chargera mieux que moi : c'est ni mon auteur préféré, ni un dont le style est dur à traduire.

>La Fontaine
Oh oui, je vais voir ce que j'arrive à trouver. Un bon gros pastiche du Corbeau et du Renard, c'est ce qui manque à /lit/.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:38:52 2015 No.7144488 >>7143643 Damn son which author is this imitating?

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:40:51 2015 No.7144496 File: 115 KB, 874x1132, grandmother-2.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>7144349 >de nouveaux mémés >mon faciès quand

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:43:09 2015 No.7144499 >>7138427 excellent

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:44:02 2015 No.7144501 >>7144349 1) Mémétique 2) Mémés 3) Memes this is the truth.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 16:47:37 2015 No.7144513 Notons que les grenouilles auront fait couler ce fil.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 17:01:47 2015 No.7144566

>>7144409

>Si j'étais pas à ce point une queue quand il s'agit de tourner les alexandrins, je ferais Baudelaire.

Je peux tenter si tu veux. (c'est moi qui ai posté la version Céline)

>>7144513

C'est la misère sexuelle l'internet francophone en même temps. Surtout depuis la fermeture d'underfoule. Faudrait songer à refaire une communauté underground, genre un forumactif de vrais négros.

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 19:29:22 2015 No.7145102
File: 357 KB, 750x500, bookwormbitch.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>7113249

Q:

"It would be very painful."

Q:

"For you."

And so but you visualize this sort of obtuse defiance from the terrorist against the ever-increasing gravitational "yank" of your recliner or porcelain stool or whatever and while rolling your eyes in no-bullshit "battle fatigue"[1] against your LCD dripping with pixel-encoded 802.11a/b/g/n or maybe 40mbps 803.16e AKA the vernacular 'WiMax' courtesy of the YDAU or possibly a brain-arresting high-speed octet-band fiber-optic net connection jacked into your slow-as-a-snail-taking-a-newspaper-to-the-bathroom-and-shit workstation, laptop, iPhone you sit there jaw slack with free-fall fear wondering how the average citizen of, say, Switzerland, or Ontario, or the cartography of Digne-les-Bains would feel about this sort of thing - the untimely meeting of a CIA officer with his terrorist prize sans any-fucking-thing in the field of camaraderie - you'd stop to wonder why the trade-crafter would have to ask anything at all, what with the need to keep up the appearances of solid intelligence work with two of his fellow "friends" still on board, you as viewer neverminding the facts for a moment and continue mentally inserting from the cinematography's third-person-shoulder view, coffin-snug inside the intelligence officer's plane, still trying to decipher the tension, heads bowed, quiet as church mice, looking back to your wife as she looks back to you in the international face for "what the fuck," you look forth and back and forth playing tennis between the two and finally look to her one more time for the non-verbal permission to decode this terrible scene verbally with some wit or shit, your ear arcs at just the right angle for the next

Q:

"Crashing this plane. With no survivors!"

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 19:33:41 2015 No.7145117
File: 42 KB, 500x329, tennisslut.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>7145102

and w/r/t the scene now if you had read anything within the past twenty non-subsidized years you might headbutt your own face upon forgetting the syndicalist-separatist-terroristic Les Assassins des Deshi Deshi Basara Basara (D.D.B.B.), whispered in English as "Rise Up" or for the laziest (sic), "Rise," lest we (that is, you, the reader, not self-conscious reference 'you and I' ever so perversely common inside the continental U.S. of A.) forget from the aggressive marketing campaign trailers that blared non-stop Hans Zimmer [2]. But the scene quickly cuts to the violent demapping process whereby you sit in your matte- or gravel-colored apartment or home eroding your enamel with aspartame-sweetened Colombian Roast blend - so Colombian you could taste the cocaine - with pupils dilating at the murder ballet 6,547 [3] feet in the air, you look back one more time as you're watching just before a sliver of a thought that now rubs you in omnipresent directions that this makes no fucking sense at all. Why the plane and the mercenaries and the CIA at all? Why would you do this, Nolan? And so on and so on and so but you finally work up the cliche-as-balls nerve to circumnavigate back to your wife and she stares back at the LCD with a wen, face-encased-in-plastic look, mind slack, feeling like you are the only one who has not befallen to the suck to your immediate Occidental direction and maybe just maybe this isn't working out between you two, that maybe this is the end of you two - pair-bonded fission split nuclear on command - and maybe you should try asking the girl/guy who smells of strawberries two cubicles from Occident that perhaps there's a life outside of work where you can meet and exchange Colombian roast-filled saucer cups and exchange sharper barbs than Tom "No One Knew Who I Was Until I Put On The Mask" Hardy, just before all that, you browse back to the entertainment, various mook mercenaries [3.5] tumbling towards a now inverted plane (and so yeah where did the bungees come from again?) and all care lost, you'd want nothing more to end it all, just fuck my shit up fam and all that, niceties vanquished with a rope and a queer deep full hot tickle [5], mind collapsing to the errant fridge logic as half of the plane more or less descends like a brick, its human cargo suddenly feeling not so much like a lifeless corpse tangled in bungee but a soul devoid of vessel, whole again, free, catapulted home over fans and Europe and the Pan-American Convexity's glass palisades at desperate speeds, soaring north, sounding a bell-clear and nearly maternal alarmed call-to-arms in all the world's well-known tongues[6]. And then your wife says something. Like, "the Tide was out."

Anonymous Mon Sep 21 19:35:15 2015 No.7145122
File: 125 KB, 500x345, this-is-not-water.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>7145117

1: Archaic euphemism circa 1980s infamously ridiculed by the late American stand-up comic and on-again/off-again political jester George Carlin in his series of skits detailing the weakening linguistic calinesthetic workouts performed by ye olden day politicians yet still vibrantly relevant in the modern-circa-2010ish Western (and, to some extent, the Eastern and Eastern Bloc) era viz. the words 'shellshock' [1a] and 'battle fatigue' and 'post-traumatic' blah blah.

1a: Term *nee* WWII, the brain-rending trauma of artillery fire, natch.

2: No bat shadows bleeding through the screen quite yet, though perhaps one could imagine the charging annular momentum through autumn sunsets casting distended asterisk shadows over one-and-two-quarters[3] of the Tortolita foothills or, alternatively, Houston, one can sure-as-shit suspect what is coming next.

3: Which is, to say, not a 'Royale.'

3.5: paid more-than-ample wage not to watch your ass flattened by a really big guy[4, non-concat natch]

4: 'Nom-de-guerre' Bane at play here vs. anodyne Yuppie naming conventions re: Aidan, Levi, Noa, Jayden, Hunter (minus contrasting surname "Steak" or "Killer"), etc. etc.

5: Infinite Jest, p 488.

6: Ibid.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 21:11:04 2015 No.7145451 File: 17 KB, 342x311, url.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >bump limit, page 8 Well flought, brothers.

>>	Anonymous Mon Sep 21 21:57:00 2015 No.7145593 >>7113618 >already >first flutter of an erection Perfect.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 22 01:04:55 2015 No.7146091 Bumpin

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 22 01:42:05 2015 No.7146165 >>7132135 I love you so much. Saved.

>>	Anonymous Tue Sep 22 02:14:03 2015 No.7146246 bump

>>	Anonymous Tue Nov 28 22:06:57 2017 No.7146246,1 >>7122719 Gene Wolfe

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/lit/ - Literature