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Sun 7 Sep, 2003 07:08 pm
There was an interesting question in Sunday's Parade Magazine's Ask Marilyn (Vos Savant) column: "Have you ever tried writing 100 words in a paragraph without repeating any of the words? Try it and see."
Marilyn Vos Savant replied: "Amazing! This is way more difficult that it appears at first. Exercise your language skills and give it a try."
She then asked readers to send her their submissions and she would publish the best.
OK, A2Kers, can you meet the challenge and write such a paragraph for A2Kers?
---BumbleBeeBoogie
anyone going to try?
Is anyone going to take this challenge?
---BumbleBeeBoogie
Instructor Gracie rolls into top mount, this engagement ended humanly. We hear words like these on many occasions in no holds barred television programs which show Pride or Ultimate Fighting Championship. If you do not know what this paragraph's topic is, you're not in martial arts. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, this, the sport whose essence I speak of. Very few people understand why family's, men, woman take part doing violent things involving human aggression. Everyone deep inside has fury, rage and needs to release it. Tranquility may be gained using the mind but souls needs guidance. A 10th degree masters final test, always inner peace.
hows that? I know it's not great but it was off the top of my head
I don't know if I pulled a muscle in my brain doing this, but here it is:
Ruhengere municipal building's peculiarly painted latrine served another useful purpose today, where preparations for Gorilla-trekking dangers up in Rwanda's magnificent highland forest parks began. There, I shaved all visible hair, supposedly satisfying organizers' desire of reducing any romantic misunderstanding risks among distant cousins. Next came a quick but ear-piercing vocalization course by track master Ndare, equipping us with sundry uncouth sounding utterances, should verbally pacifying those gentle giants become necessary. Though conventional wisdom recommended appeasing primates' protective urges via sound effects, my subsequent predicament would have been avoided had silence prevailed instead. Luckily, Gonzo proved most tolerant as alpha male silverbacks go.
(By the way, his picture on the left...)
I didn't actually use my vocab to a large extent I knew I could do it without lol
They came down the village, crossing ghostly forests, almost falling apart. Their bags were full: garlands, amethysts, gold, frankincense, myrrh. Incredible strings arrived with them: heavenly sounds drew water from marble stones, provoking visions never seen before. Who brought those tired magicians? Why had such a music enchanted our sordid souls? Was no answer available? Did we need one? Voices overheard told of incredible tales: children following mice, drowning, dead. Fear turned us into shivering salty statues, unable to look back. Many years later, explorers ventured and found this tiny town, every inhabitant eternally still, imprisoned forever by strange chords.
Wow I've been up 48 hours maybe it shows heh
When I was a wee lad, perhaps ten or eleven years old, maybe somewhat younger, my long warm summer vacations away from hot southern Virginia were spent at Gramma Sprouse's small but delightfully cool pine tree farm up towards Wisconsin's northernmost region.
Milwaukee lay about 200 miles pretty much due south so getting to her place took some hard driving (1956: cars slow and roads curvy = slow progress)
This Southern boy can't imagine winters there. Dad told stories about clambering out second story windows because of snow depth in some particularly brutal times such as 1932-1935.
Grandmother's advice for me upon graduation from grade school: Don't spit publicly.
-whew. That was harder than I thought. I hope I didn't have any error. rjb-
realjohnboy wrote:When I was a wee lad, perhaps ten or eleven years old, maybe somewhat younger, my long warm summer vacations away from hot southern Virginia were spent at Gramma Sprouse's small but delightfully cool pine tree farm up towards Wisconsin's northernmost region.
Milwaukee lay about 200 miles pretty much due south so getting to her place took some hard driving (1956: cars slow and roads curvy = slow progress)
This Southern boy can't imagine winters there. Dad told stories about clambering out second story windows because of snow depth in some particularly brutal times such as 1932-1935.
Grandmother's advice for me upon graduation from grade school: Don't spit publicly.
-whew. That was harder than I thought. I hope I didn't have any error. rjb-
Change the first "about" to "approximately" and it looks like you got it.
One more:
realjohnboy wrote:When I was a wee lad, perhaps ten or eleven years old, maybe somewhat younger, my long warm summer vacations away from hot southern Virginia were spent at Gramma Sprouse's small but delightfully cool pine tree farm up towards Wisconsin's northernmost region.
Milwaukee lay about 200 miles pretty much due south so getting to her place took some hard driving (1956: cars slow and roads curvy = slow progress)
This Southern boy can't imagine winters there. Dad told stories about clambering out second story windows because of snow depth in some particularly brutal times such as 1932-1935.
Grandmother's advice for me upon graduation from grade school: Don't spit publicly.
-whew. That was harder than I thought. I hope I didn't have any error. rjb-
(Have tried a few, get nowhere fast.
)
The family's neighborhood was spectacular this year. Dangling vines adorned with flowering geraniums overflowed hanging baskets. Old roses, hollyhocks, delphinium, day lilies and marigolds were in bloom. Birds dipped into water pools to drink before collecting seed for their babies. Our vernal equinox celebration included treasures planted last Fall. Scattered bulbs emerged out of soil sporting colorful daffodils, jonquils, narcissus, hyacinths, but not tulip blooms. "Come over after lunch, let's have tea," shouted Mary from over her fence. With dishes put away, Sally creatively set out assorted homemade cookies on plates while Gina packed cloth napkins around them. Sisters united, they strolled slowly across mother's lawn.
A friend of mine, who's into what's called Constraint Writing (this challenge is an example), has written an entire novel in which no words are repeated. Of course, as is often the case in which writers adhere to self-imposed restrictions, sense and meaning are often the first casualties...
(And, no, the above isn't my submission, so please don't highlight the redundancies!)
She will get sick of the following submission:
"a 100 word paragraph"
Send your 100 word paragraphs to Marilyn
Everyone is so clever and doing great. Why don't you all send your paragraphs to Marilyn to see if she will print it as "
the one that sounds most like a normal paragraph."
Send it to
[email protected]
---BumbleBeeBoogie
Congratulations, butrfly. A job well done. I can't see any flaw; none at all in fact. Bravo's towards you. My entry, posted relatively late last night, almost after midnight, came pretty darn close to being successful. No revision will be posted, however, by me. Why bother doing that for minor, correctable errors?
Anyway, once finished and having hit "submit" on his always faithful but, albeit incredibly slow, Dell computer (Craven would laugh derisively),
Johnboy's clock showed he had invested (read wasted) one, perhaps even two hours. Bedtime, sweet sleep time, passed much earlier; totally, happily unnoticed! Thanks A2K, great place, here. It rocks.
***Good evening, this is cheaper than cocaine, I guess, but equally as addictive. This is my second and I swear last attempt at this. Then I'm turning this topic off. For good. Really. No more. -rjb-
Craven
Craven, no doubt about it, you are a world class rascal. :wink:
---BumbleBeeBoogie
I remember reading a story about a guy who wrote a novel without using the letter E. You want a challenge -- try that.
Took a lot of time to come up with a common subject that wouldn't dead end into repetitive words and even then took 5 revisions to come up with it. I looked at it for so long I was seeing duplicated words where there were none.
Now I know why it takes so long to write a book and why I'd never want a book editor's job. I was looking through some of this summer's reading and noticed it is a popular writing technique to not use the same words repeatively, and those that suceeded at it were some of the more enjoyable books I read this summer.
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