We here at But I digress need your votes before we name a winner of the sentence rewrite from the previous blog entry.

The assignment was to re-write the following sentence, using the show, don't tell method of writing. (It was a typical blue-collar apartment.)

Here are the entrants and what they came up with, in order of their posts. Please vote for your favorite.

Adam_Warlock_2099:
Pictures of classic B movies, and cult classic figures hanged on the wall, covering what use to be the white paint that adorned the wall. Everything from classic Varga pin-up to the radiant Bettie Page, in all her glorious beauty.
The table, in the small dinning area that was really just the west side of the living room, was almost covered in various beer bottles. Collections of many different kinds of beers, from many different countries.
The small kitchen which left only room for a refridgerator, sink, and oven, was usually clean, although many times dishes from previous meals could be found, waiting to be washed.
There was a narrow hallway that lead to the bathroom and bedroom. A small bedroom, whose walls had neatly stacked boxes of comic books, along them. All in alphabetical order, with the tabs for various titles. The bed was really just a small futon that had been permantly folded out to sleep on.
It was a simple home, and one that will be cherished for all the memories that took place in it. From the 16-person party that pushed the rooms limits, to the first time that the futon was christened with intamacy. Yes it was just a simple man's residence. But it was his castle.

The Valkyrie:
Sprawled on the sagging plaid couch, I brushed my mullet off my collar and reached for the remote. It stuck to my fingers - - damn hair mousse! - - but I managed to switch from Fox News to NASCAR.
"Yo, Donna! Get me a beer, bitch!" brought the loving answer in her dulcet tones: "GET IT YUR OWN SE'F, JACKASS!" God, I love that woman. All 350 pounds of 'er.
The beer wasn't real cold - - the Amana doesn't close completely, especially when there's an elk shank in there. But a room temperature fridge guarantees that the Velveeta is the exact right consistency.

Coloconnect:
The furniture was worn in the narrow boxy rooms that the welder called home.

Lucy:
You walked into the apartment and saw bud cans on the counter, filled ashtrays and momma watching Jerry Springer...

Whit:
The Friday Night Poker Game
When my new friend and co-worker Joe at the sanitation department invited me over to his apartment for the Friday night poker game with his other pals, I wasn’t quite ready for what I encountered. He lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building without an elevator. There were 102 uneven, creaking steps to negotiate before I got to his floor, huffing and puffing. And this was after dodging two drunken bums on their way down the stairs.
As I entered the apartment, I was greeted by a small living room with one window framed by white curtains turned to gray with urban grime. In the room was an old, dirty green couch that he had picked up at a garage sale, along with a banana-colored easy chair and a remoteless 21-inch color television set of ancient vintage. The kitchen had a a small refrigerator that looked like one of those that one might find in a small motor home. A card table and chairs served as both dining table and the game table used in the Friday night poker games.
Off to the right of the living room, I observed a tiny bedroom with just enough space for a twin bed, a nightstand, and a wardrobe. Joe said he often had trouble getting a good night’s rest because of all the traffic noise below as well as the police sirens sounding at least once an hour.
After the poker game began, I saw Joe go to the refrigerator and open the door. Inside were several sixpacks of Keystone beer, two containers of boxed wine and not much else. After drinking a couple of beers, I asked Joe where the bathroom was located. He said I could find it at the end of the hall, but that I should take some tissue with me as it was often without toilet paper.
As the evening progressed, at least one good thing happened. I won all the chips in the poker game. Being quite happy, I descended the 102 steps, dodged the same two drunken bums, this time struggling to make their way up the stairs, found my car, and drove home.

Hails:
My trail inside began with a metal door. Rust spots seemed to paint the entryway with a grim feeling that set the tone for the rest of the apartment. Upon entering my senses were awakened to the musty smell of an old building. In the faint background, just beyond the neighbor kids yelling in the street, I can hear the dripping of water against the kitchen sink. The wallpaper is beyond antique: torn flowers and frills cover every wall. The carpet is well worn with well marked paths leading to the fridge and TV. The couch had torn edges, with stuffing coming out. It was my first boyfriends apartment, and didn't mind the smells, or the scenery, or the decor. I just wanted to be apart of his world.

Since Blogstream is dominated by a lot of good writers, I'd thought I'd do a post on writing. Hopefully, it can benefit everyone, aspring writers or not.

Good writers employ a technique of showing, and not telling.

What is that, you ask?

Basically, a good writer won't TELL, his readers what is happening or what the character is feeling. A good writer will SHOW them.

If you're telling, not showing, the reader won't care.

Here's an example from Robert Sawyer, a science fiction writer:

First, what's the difference between the two? Well, "telling" is the reliance on simple exposition: Mary was an old woman.

"Showing," on the other hand, is the use of evocative description: Mary moved slowly across the room, her hunched form supported by a polished wooden cane gripped in a gnarled, swollen-jointed hand that was covered by translucent, liver-spotted skin.

Both showing and telling convey the same information — Mary is old — but the former simply states it flat-out, and the latter — well, read the example over again and you'll see it never actually states that fact at all, and yet nonetheless leaves no doubt about it in the reader's mind.

With that said, let's have a little contest. Who can rewrite this sentence, using the show, don't tell method?

It was a typical blue-collar apartment.

Believe it or not, BlackNapalm is world-renowned. He is critically acclaimed in everything he does. He has a large, world following. We here at But I digress will post occasional blogs from some of BlackNapalm's biggest fans.

For this installment, we chose the self-proclaimed baddest motherfucka out there, Samuel L. Jackson. Read below for what the talented actor has to say about BlackNapalm.



Fifty-eight-year-old Samuel Leroy Jackson is a bad-ass. Well, at least he mostly plays those roles in the movies he acts in, including his latest -- Snakes on a Plane. In most movies he stars in, Jackson is usually cast in roles that involve a cool, controlled, "in-the-know" character, many of whom have an aggressive nature. His roles almost always involve a memorable line delivery, many of which are heavily laced with profanity and which most inlcude some delivery of the line "motherfucka". That's Jackson the movie star. Since breaking into the movie business in the 1980s with a forgetabble role in Eddie Murphy's Coming to America, Jackson has starred in Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, the Spike Lee movies Do The Right Thing, Mo' Better Blues and Jungle Fever, and as a jedi knight in the latest Star Wars movies. We dispatched But I digress interns to Los Angeles to interview Jackson, who wore dark sunglasses and a T-shirt that said: One bad-ass motherfucka.

But I digress: Hey Samuel.
Samuel L. Jackson: That's Mr. Jackson to you.
BID: Ok. How do you know BlackNapalm?
SLJ: That motherfucka? He's an asshole.
BID: Um.
SLJ: Nah, man, I'm just kidding you man. Come on. We met on the set of Pulp Fiction.
BID: He was in that movie?
SLJ: Come on, man, don't you know anything? He was Bruce Willis' motorcycle adviser and stunt double.
BID: So you guys hung out on the movie set?
SLJ: That cat is cool. We'd hit a lot of bars after shooting. Man could he drink.
BID: That's what we hear.
SLJ: One time we were golfing, and the cat got busted for driving the golf cart into a lake. It was actually funny, but the course manager didn't like it.
BID: When's the last time you've seen him?
SLJ: I invited him to watch some of the filming of Snakes on a plane. So, about a year ago. We played a lot of golf.
BID: Is it true that he's a scratch golfer?
SLJ: That motherfucka is the worse golfer I've ever seen. Well, I guess the cat can play a little.
BID: We heard he took you for $10,000 the last time you two played.
SLJ: (laughs) I did say he can play a little. But I had a bad day.
BID: We also heard he tried to date your daughter.
SLJ: We're not going there.
BID: So, are you two on good terms, still?
SLJ: Of course, at least as long as he gives me a chance to earn back that $10,000.
BID: OK, Mr. Jackson, thanks for taking the time to talk with us about BlackNapalm.
SLJ: You can call me Samuel. And tell that cat I said any time, anywhere.
BID: What's the one thing about BlackNapalm people should know.
SLJ: He's probably the one guy I know who curses more than me.

Of course, the big news around here today was the breaking news in the JonBenet Ramsey murder case. If indeed this guy is the murderer, then that surely is a shock to thousands of people -- including me -- who thought the mom and dad were covering something up.

For those of you who don't remember, JonBenet was the six-year-old beauty queen who was murdered on Christmas Eve several years ago. It was huge national news for a long time. I guess it is again.

Shocker to say the least.

Here's a local news story about the latest news:

By Charlie Brennan, Rocky Mountain News
August 16, 2006

A man arrested in Thailand is being held in connection with the slaying of JonBenet Ramsey, law enforcement officials said today.

John Karr, 41, a former Atlanta, Ga., resident, was arrested today in Bangkok, according to two people familiar with the investigation who spoke on the condition they not be identified.

The connection to the Ramsey family was not immediately clear.

Federal officials familiar with the case, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said Thai authorities have declared the suspect an "undesirable person," an immigration-related charge that prompted deportation. The charge stems from the suspect's involvement in the Ramsey case, the source said.

It is unknown when Karr will be brought to the United States.

A third source close to the case who spoke anonymously identified the suspect as one-time resident of Conyers, Ga., and said he was a school teacher.

John Karr, 41, had lived in Atlanta where the Ramseys once lived.

That source said that authorities had been focusing on him for some time and that Patsy Ramsey had been made aware prior to her death on June 24 that his arrest was being pursued.

Boulder District Attorney Mary Lacy today confirmed the arrest,without naming the suspect. She said it followed several months of a focused and complex investigation. "John and Patsy Ramsey both were consulted during the course of the investigation," Lacy said in a brief press release this afternoon.

The Ramsey family has been notified of the arrest, Lacy said.

The district attorney's office has scheduled a news conference Thursday at 2 p.m. at the justice center.

JonBenet Ramsey was found beaten and strangled in the basement of the family’s home in Boulder on Dec. 26, 1996.

Law enforcement officials from Boulder were flying to Bangkok to present Thai authorities with documents in the slaying of the 6-year-old beauty pageant contestant, officials in Washington said.

They spoke to the Associated Press but asked to remain anonymous pending an announcement in Colorado.

The girl’s parents, Patsy and John Ramsey, had been under an "umbrella of suspicion" in JonBenet’s death. The Ramseys said an intruder killed their daughter. A grand jury investigation in Boulder ended with no indictments, and no arrests had been made in the case.

In 2003, U.S. District Judge Julie Carnes in Atlanta concluded that the evidence she reviewed suggested an intruder killed JonBenet. That opinion came with the judge’s decision to dismiss a libel and slander lawsuit against the Ramseys by a freelance journalist, who the Ramseys had named as a suspect in their daughter’s murder. The Boulder district attorney at the time said she agreed with Carnes’ declaration.

The district attorney’s office has established a web page for information on the case:www.co.boulder.co.us/da

  

The interns here at But I digress have enjoyed reading Whit's posts on limericks (Suite Add-a-line, parts 1 and 2). There are some creative people on Blogstream, for sure. But that shouldn't surprise anyone.

Anyway, we've decided to write our limerick about our boss, BlackNapalm. Here it is:

There was a blogger named BlackNapalm
whose life was jacked up, not calm
the interns at But I Digress
say man, he's just a mess
we wish he'd quit living in the qualm