A Star is Born


Article created:- October 10, 2019 1:08 pm
Last modified:-

Written by:- MJS

My early days of happy joyous book keeping: recorded for prosperity.

These past misdemeanors include the logic that I used in those innocent heady days, logic that actually produced the artists concept that she used as the featured image. How naive I was back then, and how naive you are in even missing it.

So without further ado: here’s the greedy monkey’s thoughts that then ultimately led to the troll invasion, ..

Ooook! – Being part of Amazon, this naive writer figured that I could finally build my user base, whilst also sharing in the untold wealth of the vast rich market-place, (which was no bad thing to my mind), and all one had to do to join this exclusive club; was to simply cross the Amazon’s supporting bridge structure on standards first. A bridge manned by unpaid volunteers: unpaid unsanctioned guards who bar entry to all the riff-raff who think that they can cross their cherished domain with impunity.

I also knew my rights, and I also knew that these petty-minded, grubby rule enforcing scumbag moderators had no bloody right to bar my progress to the riches beyond either. My ignorance in the developing standoff, was in grossly underestimating just how many standard righteous guardians there were; of which I found out later, .. (there were quite a few.)

In the (War of the Words) that ensued: I alone became the *first person* in history to ever engage in post-coitus verbal intercourse on the bridge over the mighty Amazon River. Illicit intercourse that produced an ill-begotten hated bastard of a child as a result, .. (an innocent child that even you hate.)

At the time of my many parries cuts and thrusts into the ever increasing writhing writing mob, this typing monkey never once imagined the sheer depth of the noble guardians vicious cruelty in maintaining their own preconceived standards. Then under their ever growing assault, the naked ape slowly lost ground, with the nasty minded bridge dwellers ready willing and able to publicly humiliate me over my many grammatical mistakes. Of which it must be said with 20 20 hindsight vision, there were quite a few, .. but never once during that vicious bridge encounter; was I ever assisted in correcting my mistaken worldly work.

All the wanton mob wanted to do, .. was destroy it, .. (along with me.)

The unknown faceless horde in pursuit of perfection; never even performed an attempted personal assassination of me in public, nor did they even perform a flawed condemnation of my work out in the open, .. they all did it in the shadows; all greedily acting in a happy joyous snapping pack, sniping and shooting at me from the dark recesses of fake IP addresses, but mine weren’t.

  • Naked and alone, I stood there in the open: truthful and honest in my commitment.
    • But in that exposed state, the screaming monkey was also being deeply probed by the pack of shadow hell hounds circling their defenceless prey.
      • Their combined attack, when it finally came, was quick decisive and devastating.
        • But the pumped up shadow hunters, (that fateful day), also gave birth to an ideal with every forceful probing attack they made into my unguarded exposed flanks.
      • An attack that saw their standards of ethics diminish with the sheer onset of their cruelty shown against a defenceless writer: the author was no more.
    • Politically correct, and forcefully penetrating ethical cruelty; that then found the probed writer of words simmering with anger.
  • And still the perfect self proclaimed guards kept up their cruel wordily attacks.

Moderator guards, whose own self proclaimed job was to simply wait quietly under the standards of the Amazon bridge, and who only ever came out from their standard slumbers when someone wanted to cross. Whereby they then challenged any and all travellers, travellers whose standards must conform to their own: least they be cast from the bridge as being unworthy to cross.

  • That day (the Trolls) were (born) from my intimate encounter.
    • Savage trolling beasts that were all engaged in an act of satanic debauchery.
      • Debauchery that in the real world, (and face to face with their victim), they would never ever dream of doing, but they all happily did it from within the shadowy realms.
        • In the dark shadowy places, the new found collective trolls all found themselves hiding safely under the Amazon’s standard bridging support struts.
      • Struts that provided collective protection against oppressive regimes.
    • Struts that are now corrupted, ..
  • Exploited corrupt struts; that now merely prop up the vile shadowy world of misused internet anonymity.

One of the ugly deformed unknown creatures towered head and shoulders above the rest of his ignorant screaming amalgamates, and that huge salivating gibbering troll proudly called himself a professor in English repose and resonance, he alone also wrote the loudest in my rounded condemnation, naming me as a wanton witch of mistaken language.

  • I of course retreated under such a vicious onslaught of name calling.

This sorry tale is how one solitary naked ape, .. finally lost her dramatic gramatic battle standing there all alone against the horde of gibbering monkey trolls. Because after that type of devastating review, no one recovers from receiving that sort of mental blow to their psyche.

On the Amazon battlefield bridge behind me; the continuing troll games of naming and shaming went ever on, a game of online bullying; vicious nasty small minded points-scoring-games, engaged by hungry trolls salivating for yet more and more online sustenance. The (hunger games) had also dragged my own book’s reputation through the mud the blood and the mire, and it had happened when I was hauled over the coals.

At the end of the day: I had no choice – the gibbering monkey writer had to leave the (friendly) Amazon Forums with my battered books in hand. I left that [standards-bridge] for others to cross: others who hopefully had, (not have), a better mastery over the English language. Because, as I soon rather quickly found out, — I sure as shit didn’t.

  • Did I mention that I had my writing fingers badly burned?

In the simmering fires that followed, (and away from the need of endless bridging promotions), this naked ape has found that her plot lines are growing ever more complex with each book that’s outlined. Outlined books that are slowly being rewritten, and maybe even published one fine day.

Final thoughts:-

Even though my mastery of English isn’t up to scratch, well at least according to that monstrous troll called, .. ‘the professor in English repose and resonance‘ : I find that the intimate public knowledge that this solitary naked ape has found out about him, is eminently satisfying. Confirmed factual information that the uptight standards master, has never written an original work in his entire sorry excuse of a life, and he only ever marks down the young boys who are placed under him, ..

  • As I say: strangely satisfying.

 

Thanks for reading, Jessica: Praise be the ORI.

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young type of gypsy girl in mediative thought

The simple wave file that I’ve simply created, is a short into from chapter one of Gennaro’s Children: it also demonstrates the superb voice called AMY from INOVA.

Extract From, .. UA - Bk I

clip:- "these three days out from Purr’louver city: be a sorry tale of woe and betrayal, and now I find myself trapped a thousand foot up in the air, and held in the bowels of an ancient cargo carrier that's thousand foot long: the airship is called the Parr’Sol, but there's not a gas bag insight."



Commented Code Page on how this grid-site was constructed.