Hilarity in a fic.

http://terencefanfiction.blogspot.com/

One more fan fiction. This one I had to post up.

Oh man, this had me laughing. Really, I think that there is something special to all this openness in ideas.

Why can't there be some more sort of openness from more directions?

I think I should coin the phrase Open Source Fiction.

Enjoy this one my readers... striking another blow for Open Source Literature!

Open Source Fiction

So, I think there is a little click forming up here guys. Another CBC fan fiction has popped up! Check it out!

http://waltzinglogs.blogspot.com/

I used to LOVE! this video. It always filled me with such joy, and the song is addictive.

This fan fiction is quite nice, I enjoy the flow. I find that it takes into account the timing and speed of dancing, and gets more and more joyous.

See, this is where I see fiction going.

I don't think the novel is dying, I think that the novel is going open source. Really, I think that we are taking back the novel and fiction and taking the idea of a tale back to a more tribal beginning. The fan fiction is an example of how the internet is opening us back to the original, more unique experience of hearing a tale direct from the mouth of a teller, and being able to talk to them about their story. And all intellectual properties are open for use!

The internet: opening sourcing our minds and connecting us like never before.

CBCPoet

So I stumbled upon what seems to be the third member of our ever growing Canadian Fan Fiction contingent. I found that there is another blogger, CBCPoet, who is writing Casey and Finnegan Haiku's!

Here are a couple I tossed together:

CBCPoet:
Don't think I could be
as Succinct as thee;
Childhood in verse.

DistopicTreeHouse:
Treehouses don't feel
and neither should they write;
go cry to your mom.

Thank you, I'll be waiting for my laurels.

Apparently, my little comical retort got a reply!

Blasphemy (corrected your spelling their, Mr. DT).

Yes, I really do object to your creation. Or lack of creation, in my opinion. Really, what do you bring to the field here.

1) You don't know your history. Casey and Finnegan were on Butternut Square (best check your own links there.) My piece is more fitting of the history of our subjects. When they left the show, they left in a slowly phased out matter. I would think a more "gritty" and "real" presentation of a woman and her puppets retiring wouldn't be a suicide, but maybe... a legal battle or a change in company perspective? I think my (in the italics you love to use) story is much much more in line with reality and history then your squalid retelling.

2) No need to quote theorists to explain yourself either. This isn't English class. But if you want to quote theories, I could quote a few theories for you too.

My story is all about a plot that doesn't matter. The true point of my story isn't in the content, it is in the message about what has happens to our aging youth. What we make of ourselves is critical in this new world. My story is less about Cassey, and more about the interplay between capitalism and youth culture. It's like jPod is with the Internet and computers: the content isn't as important as the experience. I've tried to write my story as a tale about youth of our age coming of age. Casey is cast out for not being a good enough commodity, but like any good movement, he stays around until the culture accepts him in spirit because he does not disappear.

3) You can't create a fictional reality, or ficitional fiction, and then complain that it isn't real enough. It exists in the imagination, and there we have the ability to write whatever we feel. Doesn't mean we are "artists", what we create are expressions, not art. I think you need to grow up a bit yourself, get out of that Arrested Development stage (fantastic show, you are a fool), and get on with your life. You won't be a child-man forever, you need to become a man-man. Only fools and the narcotized don't realize how to deal with the information from someone like Virilio. He's scaring you till you change. (That's right, I can read theory too. Especially when it's short and entertaining.) You need to take in his message, not accept it as fact.

Going Out with a Bang: The Casey and Finnegan Story

This story is in response to the sad, poorly written fragment of a story by DistopicTreeHouse. This is the Real story of Casey and Finnegan, not some Emo cryfest like that other FanFic author wrote.

The real story begins with the Avro Arrow.

Well, it should.

It really starts in a boardroom, with business men, making business decisions. Casey and Finnegan were sacrifices to the gods of the early nineties. They were shorn and shoved from a place of greatness and tossed into the funeral pyre of reruns.

This is how it all went down.

Mr. D had just finished a show where he put on his favourite new Sally Ann conglomeration, some sort of sheriff-cowboy-rainbow. He was packing away the Tickle Trunk, when the head suit, Mr. J, stopped over and took him into the boardroom.

“Erin, we have to talk.” His power tie cried out. “Please sit, Erin.”

Mr. D sat down. “There have been some startling new changes lately in the audience of our show.”

Mr. D didn’t seem fazed. He had been through all these ups and downs, through decades of good ideas.

“More kids are watching Sesame Street then us. Word is, they may be launching a Canadian version. Do you understand me? What this means?”

Mr. D sat as stoic as ever. He had been through hell before. This didn’t even come close to that Elephant program debacle.

“I’m going to cut to the chase.” Mr. J’s power tie rippled with managerial power. “Casey and Fin got to go.”

This, this was new. Mr. D cried out, “You bastard. If you cut them, you cut me too.”

“This is why you are here. When the show launched, it was our show. We made you, and the others. Here, we want to clean the slate, give you the control you’ve never had.

“We want to make you an executive producer.” Mr. J reached into the desk and pulled out a pair of suspenders in the same pattern as his incredibly business power tie.

Silence.

“Let me think it over…” He eyed the suspenders and all there symbolic gaudy power.

“You have three days… then it’s you and them, or you and us.”

It’s true, I was there. I was a lowly writer, still trying to pitch my show about gophers, iguanas, and blue jays cohabitating. I rushed out to see Casey and the mutt at the treehouse.

Hey, it was the CBC; they couldn’t afford to live elsewhere.

Casey was obviously furious. Fin was, well, he was obliviously oblivious. Casey and I go way back. Way way back. He first got me my gig working for Mr. D after we met at a party being thrown by Rusty and his gang. It had been a good run since then.

Casey and I stayed up all night, and we hatched a little plan.

The news came down on a Thursday. Friday was the last show with the trio. Everyone was incredibly heartbroken. But they were not to mention of their leaving on the show, just a wave at the end. Mr. D was to take a vacation so he could come back to his new role charged up with powerful new ideas.

Our plan was flawless. Come out and rock inappropriate moments. Sneak in and show up randomly during a live shoot. We could make the new characters look lame in comparison.

It worked, we guess.

Today, young adults remember Casey and Fin as disappearing slowly. No fast cut, just a nice slow pan out into the sunset. Even the CBC now records their leaving as a gradual removal, but it was never met to be like that. They were furious.

The whole experience really changed both Casey and Fin. Today, Casey runs a social advocacy group in Vancouver, trying to build social housing Treehouses in Stanley Park. And Finny? He moved to Pompeii, to bask in the sun and be around the wild, wild animals.

I still talk to Casey sometimes. He’s lost that smile he always had painted on his face. Now, he has that true Vancouverite blank stare.