Saturday, April 2, 2016

Uploading woes

Well, my scanner being disconnected and in another room, I tried using my digital camera to take a photo of the first page of my journal. I am not... pleased:

Click for larger, though it won't help.

At least, though, you get an idea of what I'm using: the simple notebook from the pharmacy, and the most basic pen in existence, a black Bic Cristal. As (I recently found out) the pen actually is in a museum exhibit of modern design, I figured it was perfect to use in my alter-ego's stripped-down practical life.

More about her: she's me, more or less, though I've decided her name is Angelica instead of Andrea. (It's close enough to one of the names people have called me by mistake, "Angela." I could have gone with Adrienne, the favorite no-that's-not-my-name that I've been called, but it just reminds me too much of Rocky's girlfriend.) She was raised in an orphanage instead of being adopted, but it wasn't a horrific Dickensian childhood, merely a rather basic, disciplined one. Unlike me she learned to be practical and sensible at an early age, and like me she's a bit of a stuffy prude who is uncomfortable with emotion. Also like me, she often feels that life has rather passed her by, and she's not at all resigned to it.

I suppose I'd better hook up my scanner somehow.

Friday, April 1, 2016

Welcome

This is my blog dedicated to my fake journal, a project I decided to embark upon when I came across this website while idly searching around for stuff to read and do. Writing a fake journal seemed like just the thing to give my artistic side a shaking-up. We'll see.

I am writing the journal in a neat, simple little spiral-bound notebook I found at this tiny pharmacy in Verona. They're made in India. I have no idea how they made it to a local pharmacy in a small town in the back of nowhere. I haven't seen them anywhere else. Maybe they came from my journalist's alternate Earth, where they look like the sort of plain, rather cheap but practical thing the civilization there would turn out.

A brief explanation of my fake setting: in this world, the one big war of the 20th century was what we call "World War I" and the British and others call "the Great War" and so on. Instead of ending in 1918, it dragged on for enough years that certain personages (like some nobody Austrian painter called Schickelnoggin? Schneidergrupper?) never had the chance to come to their postwar "careers", mostly because they were dead in the War. In this world, by the time the war ended everyone in the so-called Western world was depleted of resources and manpower and just plain power. The areas of the world that were less effected were those southern hemisphere countries and colonies and former colonies that found the heavy hand of their white masters was much lightened, and several revolutions that were much more successful followed. Eventually things were shaken out to a much more equal, if not very prosperous, state of affairs. Rich business owners were blamed by most populations for keeping the war going if not causing it outright, was anathematized. Socialistic policies found much more favor with people, and as the rich found themselves not so rich any more, there was little to stand in the way of revolution even in former bastions of capitalism like the United States, which at this time doesn't exist in the form that we know it here.

Anyway, this is my alternate life if I grew up in a Commie America. Will it be a dystopia or a utopia? Well, I hope I give the impression that it's just a place where people live, same as always.