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About Deviant Artist Member Evil RodaMale/United States Recent Activity
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“Grandpa, tell me a Christmas story!” I said. He looked away from the fire and smiled at me.

“Sure. How about I tell you about the Christmas Truce?”

“What's that?”

Grandpa stopped rocking for a second, seeming to ponder what he wanted to say. He crossed his legs, and then uncrossed them, almost knocking his prosthetic foot off his leg. “Well, you know how I was a soldier in the Great War?”

“Yeah! You told me.” Grandpa didn't usually like to talk about his time in the trenches, but he seemed so willing to share this experience with me. I guess it got me excited.

“Well, you know, during the war, we were all dug in, hiding in our trenches. My regiment was from England, and we were right across from the Germans. I think the distance between us was probably about the same as from our house to the Johnsons, across the street. It was absolutely miserable. Everything got muddy, our trench got flooded constantly, and the smell was just...” He trailed off. For a moment, I thought he was going to start crying, or maybe just stop. He had done it before, when I tried to ask him about the war.

“S-sorry, where was I?” He seemed to be holding back tears. “Oh, right. Sorry. I think I've made my point, the conditions were terrible. I started in September, and by December, all any of us wanted was to go home. We were so sick of fighting. We didn't have it bad as some parts, in fact, we could often hear constant explosions in the distance, one right after the other. The week of Christmas, we received word that we'd have to stay and fight over Christmas.”

He seemed to calm down a bit, and started rocking in his chair again. “Well, we weren't too happy about that, but we tried to make the best of it. Then, on Christmas Eve, we heard singing coming from the German trenches. Some of us started singing carols, as well. Then, a German came up from the trench and stood out in the middle of the battlefield. He called out to us in English, asking if we could have a truce, just for Christmas. Of course, we all said yes. We got out and met in the middle, exchanging rations and jokes, and singing Christmas carols, well into the night. The next day, we did it all over again. It was probably the only happy time I had in the whole war.” He sighed and looked down.

“What happened next, Grandpa?”

“Well, after the truce, quite a few of us refused to fight. We made friends that day, and we didn't want to end up killing them. So, the command transferred us to another area the next week. No matter how badly I thought of where we were, the place we were transferred to was much worse. The fighting was constant. I soon learned that there had been no truce there. Three days later, I lost my foot to a mortar. I think that saved my life, but...” At this point my grandfather stopped rocking, and wore a look of absolute consternation. He looked at me. “Well, I guess I just got lucky. I was sent home. After the war ended, I moved to America and met your grandmother, and that was that.”

He looked down, and I felt that I had gotten everything I could out of him. I don't know why he told me that story. It caused him so much pain to tell me that. I do miss him so much.
Winter Tales Five: Truce
I was going to write something about a guy who just punched people on Christmas, but I wanted to write something for the hundredth anniversary of the Christmas Truce. It was kinda rushed, but I think it's alright.
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“Come on, let's just open it up!” said Ricky. “I wanna see all those motherfuckers upstairs piss themselves already!”

“Ricky, it has to be at midnight.” I checked my phone. “Just a couple more minutes.”

“Oh, man, this'll be the best prank ever!”

“I just want to get out of this basement. Smells like shit down here. Are you sure old Zamboni delivered?”

“It's Zambini, man, and of course he delivered. Guy's the best terror magician in town, really knows how to pull a prank.” I looked down at the box in my lap.

“What does this box even do?”

“Not really sure. Zambini just said to open the box in a room with a lot of people.”

I sighed. “Ricky, you mean to tell me you passed up on the infrasound system and mini projectors for this box, and you didn't even ask what it did?”

“Chill out, Phil, you know I never let you down!”

“You haven't? What about that time with the snow leopards? And the spaghetti incident? My hair still feels sticky from that.”

“Alright, fine, but I promise you, Zambini always delivers the goods!”

“Man, terror magicians are overrated. People think they're so edgy, but honestly, they're just a bunch of assholes going for cheap scares who rely on infrasound too much. One time, I actually broke one of Zambini's infrasound systems at a show of his. After that, he wasn't getting any scares. Called him a hack and ran away.”

“Is that why he banned you from his store?”

“Yeah man. I heard he holds grudges, so I don't think I'll be let back in anytime soon. That's why I had you pick up the stuff.”

“What time is it now, Phil?”

“Oh shit, almost midnight. Alright man, let's get to it.” Ricky and I got up, then ascended the stairs. Ricky put his hand on the door knob, then turned to me. “You ready, Phil?”

“Ready when you are.” Ricky opened the door, letting me by. I faced the crowd and opened the box.
Out of the box flew what seemed like a hundred demonic-looking creatures, who began eviscerating my party guests. Well, eviscerating is too gentle. It was more like they were ripping them apart and sticking them to the floor and ceiling, spreading around the bodies like they were carpeting and wallpaper. I ran out the door screaming, and hopped in my car.

I drove down to the police station, not even noticing the wet spot in my pants, and told the police everything. According to them, when they got to the party, everybody was fine, albeit a bit confused as to why I ran out screaming. I don't think I'll ever live it down.
Nightmares Five: The Box
Fifth annual Halloween story. Should've been workshopped, but SOMEBODY didn't show up, I said, even though the person that was directed at probably won't read this.
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evil-roda
Evil Roda
Artist
United States
I'm a writer. I will move everything I still like that is on here over to NG Lit once it is launched sometime in the next two millenia.
Interests
  • Mood: Resentful
  • Listening to: Toto - Africa
[Original title (FUCK CHARACTER LIMITS): A Rundown of Africa and its Symbolism, Plus Karl Wolf's Idiocy]

I absolutely adore Toto's Africa, both the song and the music video. If you don't know what I'm talking about, www.youtube.com/watch?v=azVqek… is the link to the YouTube video of it.



It is an absolute masterpiece. The song and the video have an amazing feel, which just screams exploration. And that's what it's all about, curiosity and the drive to explore. It's a tribute to an era when people were so willing to take chances, a time when the spirit of exploration was so strong.



The symbolism mostly has to do with the video, rather than the song, but that's what makes the video so good, and not just some decorative trim. The guy looking through the books is, obviously, an explorer. But what is he looking for? We see at 1:28 that he has a part of a page, which probably symbolizes a tiny bit of knowledge about a tribe (or possibly even Africa itself). The books, of course, symbolize Africa itself, most likely. The warrior throwing the spear at 3:10 (who also appears elsewhere in the video) may symbolize the secrets of Africa (and/or the tribe) refusing to give themselves up. At 3:11 on, the symbolism seems to be for the end of that era. The books falling at the aforementioned time in the video may symbolize our knowledge destroying the spirit of exploration, symbolized by the gas light. At 3:20, the glasses may symbolize the death of the explorer. At 3:30, the turning of the page to reveal the picture might symbolize that the secret has finally been found. At 3:31, we see that the picture is of a warrior hidden by a shield, and at 3:32, we see that it is the same shield as the one held by the warrior in the video. At 3:34, the lamp falling down and catching the book on fire might symbolize the destruction of that tribe (or Africa's native culture, or Africa itself) by the very force that found it, the spirit of exploration. At 3:42, the explorer sees what he's looking for being destroyed, and at 3:47, throws the piece he has in the fire. What that means, I'm not sure. At 3:57, the trophy may symbolize the destruction and objectifying of Africa's natural wildlife.



As for the black woman who serves as the explorer's assistant, I'm not sure what she symbolizes. Guides? Slavery? The westernization of Africa's culture? The last one seems the more likely possibility. Somebody in the comments section of that video said she symbolizes sexual things, but he wrote the comment in such a way that it read like a perfect example of academic wankery that nobody who can use the English language properly can understand. Perhaps this person is the reincarnation of James Joyce?



Now there's something that's been bugging me lately, namely the fact that Karl Wolf's version of Africa has more than nine million views, and Toto's version, the original, has only two million. It's not because his is better, mind you, and if you want to see it for yourself, www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lOoId… is the URL. It's not really a cover of the song, so much as it is a rape of the song (by rap, no less). The video has no symbolism, unless you think the scantily clad women (who aren't even black, in a music video for a song about AFRICA) symbolize anything. And yes, I realize that there are Arabs and whites living in Africa. But there aren't any Arabs or blacks at all, as far as I can tell, correct me if I'm wrong. The song is mostly rap, with the chorus sung. The lyrics are now bastardized. Let's just get to the rundown of the fucking video, shall we?



It starts out with the douchebag Karl Wolf laying on a chair thingy (I have no idea what that piece of furniture is called) with his back to the camera. We see that the pretentious little fuck has a towel with his initials on it hanging on the now unclean (in a religious sort of way) furniture. The camera goes around to his side, as his laptop usage is interrupted by an annoying ringtone, which signals that he is getting a phone call from his equally/more annoying fat friend. He answers it and says, "Yo! Wolfie's Paradise, what's poppin'?" What did I say about him being a pretentious fuck? Oh, yeah, I said he was a pretentious fuck. My bad. His fat friend replies with annoying slang, and they banter a wee bit using the same annoying slang. Finally, he gets up in slow motion, which magically triggers the musical train wreck. It starts out with an alright sound (I know he uses autotune, and I do look down upon that to a degree, but I'm not going to criticize him for that when it's the least of his worries), but soon gets fucking horrendous. We'll get into that in a wee bit. At about 0:34, we get our first glimpse of what Karl Wolf has decided to make pervasive in his music video of Africa: scantily clad women. At 0:41, we see the title of the video appear over a shot of the sun going above the ocean. This shot is pretty. Then it cuts to him walking along with a male servant (who is undoubtedly a slave, which, by the way, is against international law, although Wolf won't mind, since international law isn't much of a concern when you're that much of a pretentious fuck) holding an umbrella over his head. Then another shot of his annoying friend in a boat, then a shot of his friend and him greeting each other at about 0:52. At this time, it goes into this rhythmic sort of beat thing, which sounds pretty cool, until about 0:53, when you realize it was just a way to transition into Hell.



I'm not going into the rest of this pretentious fuck's video. All you need to know is it has more scantily clad women, pretentiousness, some vaguely pretty imagery that won't make up for the fact that this shit sucks more than a black hole, and annoying bullshit. Seriously. Did I mention Karl Wolf is a pretentious fuck? Yes? Well, I'll mention it again. Karl Wolf is a pretentious fuck. FUCK YOU, KARL WOLF, YOU MUSIC RAPIST.



Thank you for reading.

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:iconimbreum:
Imbreum Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2010
Thank you so much for the +fav!
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:iconevil-roda:
evil-roda Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2010
You is welcome. :3
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:iconkayenofdarkness:
KayenofDarkness Featured By Owner Oct 7, 2009
*pokes*
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