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Cam totul se mută în online.Tehnologia e o barcă în ale cărei pînze suflă în timpurile noastre un vînt propice. O să ajungem şi la mediile virtuale descrise de William Gibson în Johnny Mnemonic sau Philip K. Dick în romanele sale. Nu uitaţi că astăzi avem telefoane mobile şi tablete datorită lui Gene Roddenberry şi al lui Star Trek.

Într-un articol scris de Laura am găsit menţionat un Generator de Basme Propp-iene, numele venind de la un fel de frate rus al lui Joseph Campbell (da, cel cu miturile). Vladimir Yakovlevich Propp a studiat folclorul şi a spart basmele în bucăţi/secţiuni, căutînd să afle care sunt cele mai simple, esenţiale şi ireductibile elemente narative.

Şi astfel ajungem la acel Generator de Basme mai sus pomenit, unde bifezi diferite caracteristici, apeşi Generate şi obţii un basm în mod automat. Eu îl văd ca pe un prim pas pe un drum la capătul căruia o să ne întrebăm – parafrazîndu-l pe Philip K. Dick – Do androids tell stories?

N-o să vă zic ce am bifat eu acolo, dar postez mai jos rezultatul. 😀

Whenever the earth tremors or shakes, the old women in our village say that the souls of the dead buried beneath our feet are at war. „Our ancestors died with sins in their hearts and grudges on their souls,” the old women claim. „They were not at peace with the world when they entered the ground. They shiver and shake in their graves, wanting to rid their souls of life’s filth.” The old women spoke to us children, and I believed their words, I believed that when the ground rumbled, the dead were struggling to clean their souls. After my mother died and was placed in the earth, I learned to step lightly, to move without making a sound. I wanted my mother to rest, not to be awakened by the weight of and crushed by the weight of this world.

„How did you get here?” the man asked.

The girl knelt down at my feet, pressing her furry costume against my skin. „Please help me,” she said, and kissed one foot. She kissed the other. And when I looked down I found both the leather-bottomed shoes gone and bare toes remaining. They froze in the mountain wind. At my feet a white wolf with childlike eyes stared up at me, grinned, and ran off with two shoes in her jaws.

„Let me go then,” I said.

I felt my legs lift from the ground and follow the white bird’s path that trailed along the movements of air.

I pulled the needle out of where it would cause harm, and happy that I did so.

The silver fish leapt from the water from his gurgling mouth came a bubble that solidified and dropped into my lap. Just as quickly as he had emerged, the fish plopped back into the water, leaving me to puzzle over this mysterious orb.

With each step I took, the people of soil tried to clench my feet harder and began to pull me down.

I called out,”Help, please, help!” The white crane grazed the skin of my pursuer and held my shirt between its beak.

„And who are you boy?” Mother asked me. Her weak eyes did not recognize my much-changed face and form. I told her I was her son but she did not believe me. „If you are the son that left so many days ago, and if you are the one who brought back this jade figure of father, then you are the one who will be able to restore him to his normal shape.” She flicked her wrist and flung the jade piece at me.

The man in heavy robes looked at the man beside me and asked, „So now I ask that you take the same truth by needle test that this man took.”

People began to move away from the other person, who now shook his head and his hands. He kneeled to the floor and placed his head there in mercy.

My mother’s embrace rendered the burns and boils on my skin pristine.

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