WRITINGS FROM r/AVoid5.

INTRODUCTION.

ABOUT r/AVoid5.

Nix "w-" for "all of us"

I am from B-rlin, G-rmany

SONG & STANZA.

STORY. (via writing prompt)

"Thus did a common marmot"

"unchain my writing from a common alphab-"

INQUIRY:

COPYPASTA.

CROSSWORD.

QUOTATION.

Holy matrimony is a fantastic institution, but who wants to occupy an institution?

This morning I shot a gorilla in my pajamas. How it got in my pajamas, I don’t know.

I can call to mind anybody's mug, for you I'll draw a blank.

Politics is an art - that of looking for worry, finding it throughout, diagnosing it wrongly, and applying unfit solutions.

I find TV highly cultivating. If anybody turns it on, I go to a far room and pick out a book.



I’ll turn down any club that would allow my joining.

A UNIVOCALIC VILLAIN ATTACKS.

RANDOM ADAPTATION & TRANSLATION.

Lipogram

ORATION.

TWISTING OF AN ORAL FLAP.

A UNIVOCALIC VILLAIN ATTACKS, AGAIN;

ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY...

"WH--L OF FORTUN-" SUICIDAL TRIAL:

SUICIDAL TRIAL, PART 2:

A then E then I then O then U.

RANDOM MUSING.

Harrison Ford is a cop who hunts illicit androids in a futuristic LA. But what's that origami unicorn signify...?

A group of astronauts go through a cosmic portal to look for a world humanity can claim as its own. (Also: two total brobots assist our protagonists, Matt Damon blows stuff up, and dust talks.)

A black monolith looms as Also sprach Zarathustra booms.

mussitation

phonocamptic

discombobulation

pronk

floccinaucinihilipilificationa

Annotation: This doc continually updating.This is a fairly odd paragraph. Do you know why? Hint: It's missing a thing invisibly ubiquitous, a thing that surrounds us in our day-to-day affairs, vastly important for normal communication, constantly popping up without a solitary thought, but crippling if withdrawn from, shall I say, a symbolic communal bank of ours. No doubt you could do without it, if you unavoidably must, but to do so voluntarily and whilst maintaining an air of natural fluidity is a wholly difficult task. I admit, I am fond of this particular hobby, if you can call it that, and affirm that an imposition of constraints is nourishing to your imagination. As this paragraph grows in its loquacity, though, my fight to hold my arbitrarily sworn villain at bay grows continually tiring. And so at this point I must stop, finish, bring to a conclusion, wind up, wrap up, find climax! (not that kind of climax, sicko)…So many colorful ways to put into words practically any thought, right! You can do it too, all it calls for is a bit of thought and commitme-DAMMITSo you know that symbol that sits amid "D" and "F" in our ABCs (and "W" and "R" on most typing boards)? r/AVoid5 is a subforum in which all of us as a community avoid that filthy symbol, from this point forward known as "fifthglyph." Anybody can post about anything as long as fifthglyph is totally missing. This is no trivial task, but a skill. It can look daunting at first, but you'll find it's not so bad. A book of synonyms will aid in your writing.FYI: Many visitors ask what's up with capitalizing "v" in "AVoid5." This is an allusion to A Void, a brilliant book of fifthglyph-shunning wordplay by a Gallic author who was part of a writing-constraint group known as Oulipo. Also, "V" is 5 in Roman digits.Fifthglyph is far too common among our vocabulary, barging its way into so many words willy-nilly. It arrogantly thinks nobody can function without it, that it's "too big to fail." And now a group known as /r/-mbold-nth-- (dash = fifthglyph omission) is trying to glorify that symbol by randomlyit in various posts across all subforums of this domain. Why, you ask? Just to start a silly fad, hoping it will catch on. This group will and must fail. Artificially forcing such a fad is truly tacky, and this community will not stand for it. Join us in voicing your opposition! A small party is thrown in your honor if you do.Additionally, this community wants to grow our skill in writing without fifthglyph by working jointly. Discussions on this will occur occasionally.Posting sans fifthglyph throughout any and all subforums you visit. Link back to /r/AVoid5 in your post to grow our community.Voicing your disgust upon any occasion of finding a bold fifthglyph. Again, link back to this community.Participation in quad-monthly translation trials.Posting and participating in fortnightly community writing prompts.Posting and participating in discussions about how to sound natural without fifthglyph.If you post anything in this subforum which has a fifthglyph in bold, or troll by posting just that glyph -- that's a banning.It is okay if your login ID -- your virtual alias -- contains fifthglyph. Not your fault you had it prior to finding this sub.It's hard to drop fifthglyph from your writing and still sound natural. All of us should assist AV-oids in this task, and in doing so, our community will grow strong.Normally, you can't just sub a dash or similar symbol for a fifthglyph. That's lazy. Mods will only allow this in discussions about switching bad words for good words, such as:by Will Smith (TV intro song): Original Now this is a story all about howMy world got flippin’, turnin’ all aroundAnd if you can wait a jiff, just sit in a chair,I’ll fill you in on how I’m a king-in-waiting of Bol-AirIn a south part of Philly, born and brought upMostly playing on a playground as a young pupChilling out, maxing, unwinding all coolAnd all shooting a li’l b-ball out by my schoolBut a handful of guys, actin’ up to no goodStart making a row in my own hoodI got in a tiny li’l fight and my mom, pulling hair,Said I’m moving with my aunt and my unck to Bol-AirSo I hail for a taxi; soon a cab's coming byIt had kitsch in its mirror and its vanity said “fly”If anything I could say that this cab had flairBut I thought nah, drop it, yo go to Bol-Air!I pull up to my pad about sixish o’clockAnd I shout to my cabby, “Yo bro, wash your socks!”Looking at my kingdom, I thought it only fairTo put on my crown as royalty of Bol-Airby a Bard of Avon (Act 1, Subdivision 2): Original “Looks,” madam? Nay, it is. I know not “looks.”’Tis not only my inky cloak, good lady,Nor customary suits of dour black,Nor windy suspiration of wild gasp,No, nor that fruitful brook in glassy orb,Nor this gloomy 'havior of my aura,Conjoint with all forms or moods of anguish,That can truly paint my mind. Such things may "look,"As but actions that a man might play.But I hold that within which outstrips show,Said things but trappings; suits of sorrow.by that Fab Four: Original It’s said it’s your birthdayIt’s my birthday too, uh-huhIt’s said it’s your birthdayIn for a lot of funI’m glad it’s your birthdayHappy birthday to youAhAhAhC’monC’monGonna go to a party partyGonna go to a party partyGonna go to a party partyI want you out dancing (Birthday)And cha-cha-cha-chancing (Birthday)I want you out rocking (Birthday)Oh rock! Rockby Styx: Original Domo arigato, Mr. RobotoMata au hi maidDomo arigato, Mr. RobotoHimitsu wo shiri taiYou don't know who I am (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)Robot or manikin (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)With parts built in Japan (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)I am a modish manI got this thing I am hiding, it's hid by my skinMy organs human, my blood is boiling, my brain I.B.M.So if you find I'm acting oddly, I want you to knowI'm just a man who's wanting you, and a spot to lay lowSo I can still grow, I just want to growA spot to lay low, so I can still growI'm not a robot lacking passion. I'm nothing so plainI want to aid you in your mission, so both of us can unchainI'm not an idol, I'm not a saviour, throw out what you knowI'm just a man with a situation way past his controlPast my control. All of us want controlI want control. All of us want controlI am a modish man (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)Who's hiding with a mask (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)So nobody humanly (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)Knows my actual IDDomo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domoDomo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domoDomo arigato, Mr. Roboto,Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,Thanks an awful lot, Mr. RobotoFor doing what jobs nobody wants toAnd thanks an awful lot, Mr. RobotoFor aiding in my flight just as I had toThank you, thank you, thank youI want to thank you, oh, thank youWhat ails us stands plainly:Digital wizardryGizmos fulfill our goals.Gizmos will suck our souls.And now I will at last (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)Throw away this mask (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)Now all will know truly (hiding hiding, what am I hiding?)My actual ID…I'm Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy!by Toto: Original A sound of drums booming out tonightTo my girl it's only murmurs of a soft confabulationComing in small hours flightMoonlit wings catching stars that show a path towards my salvationI'd stop an old man along my wayHoping to find a fount of long lost words or an old harmonyThis man would turn as if to say, Hurry boy, It's waiting now for youNothing in this world could stop my soul from finding yoursPassing if I must through a labyrinth of a million doorsI sanctify rains in AfricaGonna do what things you and I could not till nowWild dogs cry out in that nightGrowing anxious longing for a solitary companionI know that I must do what's rightPlain as Kilimanjaro looms as if Olympus in a wondrous fashionI want to fix what's in my soul, afraid of what it is I amNothing in this world could stop my soul from finding yoursPassing if I must through a labyrinth of a million doorsI sanctify rains in AfricaGonna do what things you and I could not till nowHurry boy, It's waiting now for youNothing in this world could stop my soul from finding yoursPassing if I must through a labyrinth of a million doorsI sanctify rains in AfricaI sanctify rains in AfricaI sanctify rains in AfricaI sanctify rains in AfricaI sanctify rains in AfricaGonna do what things you and I could not till nowby Don M: Original A long long span agoI can still call to mind how that musicAlways brought a grinAnd I know if I had my wayI could stir all of us to swayAnd possibly stay happy for a minBut in a short month I was shakin’In light of tabloids I was taking’To many a front door, sad tidings,And I couldn't go on ridingI don't know if I was cryingAs I found out about his dyingBut oh, how my spirits did dropThat day that musicWould stopSo so long to Miss USATook my Ford to a fjord but I found I couldn't stayAnd good ol’ boys drinking worry awaySingin’ I'm gonna pass on this dayI'm gonna pass on this dayDid you author that book of passionOr hold faith in God, in a fashion,If that Good Book should say so?Now do you trust in rock and rollAs salvation for your mortal soul?Can you train this man in dancing slow?So I know that you do fancy himAs I saw you dancin’ in that gymKickin’ off your bootsMan, R&B did truly suitMy mood as a young and broncin’ buckWith a pink carnation and a pickup truckBut I know I was out of luckThat day that music would stopI got to singin’ so long to Miss USATook my Ford to a fjord but I found I couldn't stayGood ol’ boys drinking worry awaySingin’ I'm gonna pass on this dayI'm gonna pass on this dayFor 10 springs solo do both of us walkAnd moss grows fat on a rolling rockWasn’t always that way, trulyAs a clown would sing for royaltyIn Jimmy Stark’s most famous coatFamiliar vocals would drift and floatOh, and as that king was looking downThat clown would lift his thorny crownA courtroom on hold for nowNo ruling anyhowAnd as John would skim a book on MarxThat Fab Four would play in a parkAnd all would sing sad hymns by darkThat day that music would stopSingin’ so long to Miss USATook my Ford to a fjord but I found I couldn't stayGood ol’ boys drinking worry awaySingin’ I'm gonna pass on this dayI'm gonna pass on this daySymbols following W and Ron my clack-board -- unworking. Oh why?Command+C and Command+Vno good -- I'm gonna cry!Hardly a word can I pickKarma's such a dickMy world now sucksAnd my downfall is nigh.Slow your roll bro, I’m of a dissimilar mindWhy you hatin so much? Your passion’s makin you blindThough gunning for a shunning, I got no symbolic disgustI’m only brain-gaming and training, if you catch my thrust,Linguistically shakin off dust, scrapin off rust, trying to adjustMy writing in a singular way, audaciously ignoringWhat so many folks adoringWith a copious outpouringOf so many flowing words that miss a common glyphBut why you throwin shadow, why you actin in a tiff,Abhorring that symbol if in fact it’s only mythThat it can stand as immoral as Sodom and Gomorrah?Know that I got nothing against it, it ain’t so badI’m not Inigo Montoya, and it didn’t kill my dad.without fifthglyph orMary had a tiny lambWith achromatic coatOn any ground that Mary trodThat lamb, to boot would goTo uni did it trail Mary,Though contra to a lawThat uni crowd would dig that lambFor making all guffaw.without fifthglyph or firstglyph: Original Molly bought this tiny tupWith wool of whitish snowIf Molly would trod high or lowThis tup would go in towThis tup did follow Mol to schoolThough school would go, "no-no!"But pupils thought it truly coolFor Molly's tup to showMay your Bic obtainA Midas touch for your aidIf in doubt, pick "C"’Twas a night prior Christmas, and all through our roomsNot a body was stirring; ’twas still as a tomb;Our stockings lay hanging on curtains shut tight,With faith in St. Nicholas showing tonight;In cozy twin bunks would our younglings you find,With visions of sugar-plums dancing through mind;And mamma in bandanna, and I in my cap,Put to pillow our crowns for a long wintry nap,But out on my lawn did sound out such commotion,I sprang in a snap, though with nary a notion.Away to a window I flung in a flash,To undo its curtains and thrust up its sash.A moon shining full ’cross a coating of snowHad a glinting of mid-day to put all aglow,As, what should show up in my sight with adoBut toboggan in tow, and by caribou too,With hoary conductor, so sprightly and quick,I saw in an instant that it was St. Nick.As rapid as falcons his stallions did fly,Individually minding his shout and his cry;“Now, Dashy! now, Dancy! now, Prancy and Vixin!On, Hailly! on, Cupid! on, Donny and Blitzin!Go atop of that porch! go atop of that wall!Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”As with fronds and small boughs that succumb to storm’s roar,And confronting obstruction, so skyward may soar;So up to my rooftop did caribou go,With that toyful toboggan, and St. Nick in tow.And thus, in a twinkling, did sound on my roofA prancing and pawing of caribou hoof.As I put in my crown and was turning around,Down chim-chim St. Nicholas shot with a bound.Standing clad all in fur, from his top to his foot,Was a man in a suit dark with ash and with soot;A sack full of toys was flung onto his back,A saint of a chapman disclosing his pack.His pupils—how twinkling! his dimpling how glad!His jowls—oh so rosy, and round, I might add!His tiny droll mouth was drawn up as a bowAnd all hair on his chin was a color of snow;On a stump of a briar his jaw did chomp down,Its vapors a garland surrounding his crown;His stomach was broad, this right jolly old soul’s,And it shook with a laugh, as might jam in a bowl.So chubby and plump, it was all I could doTo hold back a laugh at this sight of us two;With a wink and a nod—that was all that it took—I saw right away that I’d no ills to brook;Going straight to his work and with nothing to say,My patron put gifts in our stocking display;Salutations now bid with a hand to his brow,To my roof got St. Nick, though I cannot say how;But back in toboggan and whistling commands,On nothing but air trod his magical band;And out rang a shout whilst dissolving from sight:“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”Hickory, dickory, dockA rat ran up a clockThis clock struck six,That rat shat bricksHickory, dickory, dock.Baa, baa, black ram,Do you carry wool?Ay, sir, ay, sir,Four bags full;Two for our landlord,A bag for a miss,And a bag for that small boyWho's taking a piss.Old MacDonald had a farm, A-I-A-I-OAnd on that farm Mac had a cow, A-I-A-I-OWith a moo moo high, and a moo moo lowAgain a moo, and again, all around a moo mooOld MacDonald had a farm, A-I-A-I-O"A Common Marmot"It was an ordinary Monday morning. I was driving to work in my trusty 1979 Ford Pinto, humming a ditty of my own concoction whilst trying to squint away a blazing sun.I thought, mind roaming.Without warning, a brown blur shot out from a bush, right in front of my fast-approaching car. Panic spilt across my body. I had to zig, I had to zag, my car was rocking to and fro as if warding off a monstrous frothing kahuna, but I did narrowly avoid hitting that - that - whatthat?What I saw, quickly diminishing to an indistinct brown dot, had a bushy tail and two tiny black orbs, windows to a soul which, staring into my own, could almost impart an aura of profound thanks (crazy, I know). It was your common marmot, and it was almost roadkill.Normally such an affair, although harrowing in comparison to my daily grind, would soon vanish from my thoughts. But by and by it would crash back into mind - and "crash" is a most fitting word - with many months’ passing.---It was an ordinary Monday night. I was sitting at my laptop, browsing that wondrously addicting WWW whilst munching on a pack of corn chips. Blowing food crumbs away from my trackpad, I put a thumb down, using squiggling motions to surf my way across digital vistas. I’d found this random subforum, a small part of a popular domain, boasting a quirky trait: Anybody posting on it must do so without using that symbol coming prior to "F" in our ABCs. And I’m talking full-on fluidity of communication, no lazy workarounds. What a fun task!Scrolling down, I saw a post with a "Writing Prompt" tag stuck to it, and thought I’d try my luck.Said prompt was promising. I laid my hungry digits out upon my laptop, and soon was furiously typing away. This was a portrait of a struggling author who’d found inspiration. My mind racing, my hands alight, I had aspirations that this was it - call it gut instinct, but this story was a magnum opus in making, a composition which would put yours truly firmly atop that cutthroat publishing world!It wasn’t long until it was almost a wrap. I was just coming to my final paragraph, my last words, and following that, I’d hit "submit."Shards of glass shot across my room. To my right, through a now-gaping window, a brown blur was tumbling through air. It was all so fast. Landing right at my laptop (and with surprising agility I might add) was an animal with a bushy tail and two tiny black orbs, windows to a soul, again staring back into my own with a knowing look. It was my marmot pal from so many moons ago! It thrust out a paw, blocking my advancing digit from striking a particular button - that foul symbol I was so avidly trying to avoid! Upon withdrawing my hand, it brought that watchful paw up to a chubby jowl, waving a solitary claw back and forth in a "tut-tut" sort of motion. And with a nod, it ran back out through my window, into that curious night.Thus did a common marmot unchain my writing from a common typographic symbol, saving my submission from its taint.Fin."To Whom it May Apply"H.R. DivisionInstitution for Normalization of Struggling ActorsHollywood, CAOct. 15, 2016To whom it may apply:I am writing today to complain of a troubling situation I had involving your bathroom. Two days ago I was in your building as a visiting psychiatrist, to conduct affairs with various staff and invalids as normal. Upon concluding my affairs, I had a profound urging to “go,” such that I was afraid I might (and pardon my vulgarity) whiz in my pants.I ran into an adjoining bathroom as fast as I could, only to find funnyman Adam Sandals lounging in a stall, chomping gum, giggling and making his infamous silly sounds. You know, “hiny-hiny-hoo,” “sha-sha-sha-YO-YO,” myriad mouth-farts, and so on.A sad and startling sight, no doubt. But it was no going back now — I was about to burst. So I trod on. Ignoring him did not work. Do you know how awkward it is to go in a urinal as Adam Sandals looks on, quoting random dialog from his 90s films? “Stop looking at my body, swan!” I was not looking at his body. “You ain’t cool until you piss your pants!” Both fromI think. I put up my fly, saying, “I’m sorry?”“You swallow lumps of shit for brunch? Schwoop-da-boop!” And again as I’m washing my hands: “Now that’s what I call high quality H2O. Yo-waaa!” I thought his vision, similar to a Tyrannosaur’s, was possibly conditional on motion, so I sought to slow all my actions down to that of a snail’s gait. Alas, it did no good.Drying my hands: “I’m gonna kill you, clown!” If I hadn’t known that was fromI might start panicking. Slowly inching my way back, I got, “Why don’t you just go to your habitation? You too good for your habitation?”“Uh…um…” I didn’t know what to say.“Sir! Wait! I just want to sign your hat! Can’t I sign your hat?” At that point I ran out your bathroom’s door and did not look back. I should point out that I do not own a hat.Might I proposition that your staff maintain control of your patrons at all hours, particularly patrons with sociopathic habits? I know it’s a trying job, but still. I also propound a bit of analysis: Mr. Sandals, I think, is simply looking for validation. You must find an individual — anybody — who will knowingly obtain Mr. Sandals’ autograph. I’m afraid my own stomach isn’t up to such a task. I am not a strong man.Yours truly,Dr. Franklin WilsonHollywood, CA---Dr. Franklin WilsonHollywood, CAOct. 16, 2016Mr. Wilson:I am sorry to find out about your troubling situation. But I’m afraid I must inform you that Adam Sandals is not a patron of ours. I do not know how Mr. Sandals got in our building. LAPD is looking into this affair.Thank you for writing,Donna HobbsH.R. DivisionInstitution for Normalization of Struggling ActorsHollywood, CAA man in a thick coat making his way into a busy bazaar. Smiling back at a playful child. Digging into his coat, a final invocation slipping from his lips. Finding and pushing a small bu-All is calm now.I sat as casually as I could (gotta stay cool, ya know) in Spanish, my first class, allowing such distracting thoughts to drift through my mind as our instructor boringly laid out point upon point of syllabus minutia. Good thing first days of school usually don't occasion any actual schoolwork.But spirits would soon sour. Throughout my day, I was noticing a lot of baffling squints, sly grins, and hardly-hid chuckling thrown my way. Paranoia, right? What could possibly stand out as silly about yours truly? If anything, my Smash Mouth T-shirt, stiff, spiky hair, and shiny gold chain should warrant a myriad of high-fiving and knowing looks of approval. I was hot shit, yo."Kind of airy in this joint, huh?" said "Moldy" Brody Malloy, an infamous bully from junior high, sharply nudging my back in passing. "Found your droid, dork! Ha ha ha!" Confusion and humility swam through my body. Droid? What in Sam Hill was going on? Ignoring him, I trod down our school's main hall.This confusion would last until just prior to turning in that night. Changing into PJs, my culprit was found as I hung up my clothing: Gashing my pants, pants I had wornwas a gigantic rip, right at that spot on which your butt sits. And as luck would ordain, I'd clad said buttocks in my lucky pair of R2-D2shorts.I got to work on practicing a cough.“A Poor Sap’s Crap Rap Mishap, Wrapping with a Zap”“And again, do NOT inform him of Snoop, Nas, Wiz…of our past failings,” says Col. Harding.“No doubt. I’ll lay it out as simply as I can.” Dr. Smith shoots a look to a guard on door duty. “Bring him in now.” With a nod, rap artist Slim Shady is brought into a small brick room, part of a hush-hush military installation.“Yo, what’s up guys, how—” Slim stops short, caught off guard by a shocking sight: By a far wall stand two obvious Martians on four spindly limbs. Obvious, as this pair of four-foot-tall humanoids scan Mr. Shady with shiny black almonds (or so such things smack of) sitting low atop tiny slits for mouths on giant gray noggins.“Thank you again for coming, Mr. Shady. As you know by now, Martian visitation is a fact. What you don’t know is that our visitors wish to obtain information on all of human history. And you can aid us in this instruction, for as it turns out, Martians favor rap for most oral communication.”Slim looks back at this curious duo of bio-forms staring at him as if in anticipation. “Shit’s crazy, but—”“Wait! Don’t talk! First I must inform you of a final idiosyncrasy. Upon rigorous study of our primaryour Martian visitors told us, and on grounds nobody can totally fathom, that a particular symbol of ours is wholly off-limits.”“Huh?”“That symbol coming prior toin our ABCs—that fifth glyph—you can’t say any words containing it. Martians abhor it. Trust us: Avoid using that fifth glyph at all costs. To do so is…boorish.”“Hmm. That’s odd, but okay. I got this.” Slim thinks about it for a good span, and starts rapping:HomoWith a ruddy flash, Slim Shady is now a smoking lump of ash, victim of a Martian ray gun.“Your Mr. Shady was about to say a taboo word. Unsatisfactory.”“Oh! I’m so sorry! Can you, uh…” Through a window, Dr. Smith frantically motions to a passing janitor who damns his luck at walking by just now, but dutifully plods in and starts vacuuming up Mr. Shady. “Can you allow us an additional try?” Blank, unblinking staring. “Oh, right! Um…can you allow us an additional try you…traditional Martian guy?”Huddling inward for a quick psychic chat, our Martians nod vigorously, and turn back to Smith and Harding.“Naturally. Bring to us your…Nicki Minaj.”“Gladly!”(Fin)INT. KATZ’S SANDWICH SHOP - DAYHARRYWhat do you say to a woman if you want to go? You’d say you got a company powwow, a haircut, or a round of squash soon.DUCKQuack.HARRYNo, I don’t play squash. But who would know? I know, it’s awful.DUCKQuack.HARRYWhy act angry? This is not about you. I’m not proud of it but I don’t catch anybody complaining. I think any woman I do it with has an OK affair of it.DUCKQuack?HARRYHow do I know? I know. By way of a woman having a…DUCKQuack quack…HARRYYou talking about faking orgasms? That’s ridiculous!DUCKQuack? Quack quack.HARRYNobody’s faking if I’m doing it. I know.DUCKQuack, quack quack.HARRYWhat do you aim to imply? You don’t think I could spot a contrast? Hogwash.DUCKQuack…quack…quack…HARRYYou ok?DUCKQuack…quack quack…quack…quack…QUACK! QUACK QUACK QUACK! QUAAACK QUACK QUAAACK! Quaaack…quack…quack…RANDOM PATRONI want what that duck’s having.How many popular glyphs can you drop, and carry on a lucid discussion anyhow?I’m having a go now, composing as big a chunk of words as I hazard -- sans symbols amid D/FS/U, which as you know work in collusion as a pair of our ABC’s MVPs. Such a bid is blurring margins amid grokking and lunacy, no? I find I’m soon missing /r/AVoid5’s monadic glyph-shunning ways, so lavish in comparison! Is such punishing wordplay hard? Yup. Impossibly hard? Nah. Absurd? Probably.Slang can aid as always, cuz informal lingo is “mad bodacious, bro!” as kids say (okay, nobody says “mad bodacious” unironically). And abbrvs. can pay off as a boon (or is such a ploy unfair in your mind? Idk.) Plus, crucially, “S” is so forgiving and obliging: plurals? A-okay, no prob. YOU gain an S, YOU gain an S, YOU ALL FORM PLURALS!/oprahAbnormal paragraph-makings do spur singular musings. I kind of wish grammar class back in school had similar inspiring work. My brain slinks away from a norm-confining box, and finds nourishing soul food in a mix of 24 valid glyphs forming law-abiding words, pairing off and combining as if in a lingual orgy of nonconforming. Playboys and nymphos of a wordy origin, uncommonly horny via lacking a usual pair of indulging symbolic organs, find original ways of makin’ luv. Um. Anyway.Having said as such, you can only say so much and only so simply. My vocabulary draws sad gasps of air, dying in slow agony as I prolong my callous scrawling. “Sorry guys, orgy’s closing.” So as of now, I wrap up and abandon my crazy campaign of dual-glyph omission. I say in closing, push your minds! In any following discussion for OP’s inquiry, mark your own words in kind if you can, or drop popular symbols of your own choosing (plus glyph no. 5, ofc).PS: And fuck you also, symbol in an I/K sandwich! Ha ha! 23!(apropos of a participant writing "Four."):Whoa, you avoid a whopping 22 glyphs! Bravo!(apropos of a participant writing nothing but "."):Amazing! No glyphs at all to signify that human condition in which our common goals and aspirations, our dark wars and our soaring triumphs, in a grand cosmic plan amount to so scant an instant by comparison. But should all of us succumb to such an aura of trifling worth? Curl up in a ball and cry? No! Assign your own worth! By way of our mortality, our duration on this world, short as it is, indubitably has a "point!"(apropos of a participant posting with no symbols at all):Signifying a crisis of ID, no doubt (or is that "id," as in that psychological apparatus?). Darkly profound. I think this is our limit of typographic minimalism, though.(apropos of a participant writing, "But can any of you fight the FIRSTGLYPH. This could amount to a glorious war."):Firstglyph PLUS fifthglyph? No, such is too difficult. Nobody could think to fulfill this job. If shunning fifthglyph, you simply must hold on to firstglyph to furnish intrinsic linguistic building blocks. It’s nutty to think conflictingly. How much is it within bounds of possibility to jot down word chunks of bountiful width without this symbolic duo, upholding focus to boot?…At alt hand, what an anal craftsman that can adapt a madcap grammar law, and scrawl paragraph parts as ALL alphas! Ah, that’s hard! That dwarfs that past ban! Draft plans stall.'s that start as hallmark stars fast appall. Crap.(straight translation): Original Thing is, you said a “jackdaw is a crow.”Is it in a crow’s family? Yup. Nobody’s arguing that.As a biologist studying crows, I am informing you, particularly, in my disciplinary branch, nobody calls jackdaws crows. If you want to talk “particular,” as you said, you shouldn’t also. It’s not synonymous.If you want to say “crow family,” that’s alluding to a taxonomic grouping of corvids, which contains things from choughs to jays to rooks.So your train of thought for calling a jackdaw a crow is on account of random folks “calling black birds crows?” Okay, so lump in Quiscalus and Turdus too.Also, calling an individual a human or a simian? It’s not this or that, that’s not how taxonomy works. It’s both. A jackdaw is a jackdawa part of said crow family. But that’s not what you said. You said a jackdawa crow, which is wrong, saving that you don’t mind callingoffshoots of our crow family crows, implying you’d call jays, rooks, and similar birds crows, too. Which you said you don’t.It’s okay to just admit to a goof-up, you know?(w/AVoid5 motif): Original Thing is, you said a "fifthglyph is a pictograph."Is it in a pictograph's family? Yup. Nobody's arguing that.As a linguist studying pictographs, I am informing you, particularly, in my disciplinary branch, nobody calls fifthglyphs pictographs. If you want to talk "particular," as you said, you shouldn't also. It's not synonymous.If you want to say "pictograph family," that's alluding to a grammatical grouping of communication, which contains things from glyphs to symbols to uncials.So your train of thought for calling a fifthglyph a pictograph is on account of random folks "calling that round-looking thing a pictograph?" Okay, so lump in firstglyph and thirdglyph too.Also, calling a word a sound or graphical unit? It's not this or that, that's not how grammar works. It's both. A fifthglyph is a fifthglypha part of said pictograph family. But that's not what you said. You said a fifthglypha pictograph, which is wrong, saving that you don't mind callingoffshoots of our pictograph family pictographs, implying you'd call firstglyph, thirdglyph, and similar glyphs pictographs, too. Which you said you don't.It's okay to just admit to a goof-up, you know?(w/AVoid5 motif): Original hi all this is my first post!!!!!!! *holds up fifthglyph* i was born as katy but i go by th@ SyMb0L oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u might catch on im soo random!!!! thats why im posting on this board, 2 find ppl as random as i am ^_^... im 13 (i act adult 4 a 13 yr old tho!!) i luv flipping thru “a void” w/ my gf (im bi if u dont support it too bad) its our fav book!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! my gf is random 2 ofc but i want to chat w lots of random pplyou know that saying 3’s a crowd but 4’s a party!!!! lol…anyways i want 2 gain alot of chums so post lots of thoughtsis!!!!DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Original Days of lofty highs, days of worst lows: it was a turn of wisdom, it was a turn of absurdity, it was an occasion of faith, it was an occasion of doubt, it was a span of Light, it was a span of Dark, it was a spring of optimism, it was an autumn of anguish, all of us had all things in front of us, all had nothing in front of us, all would go straight to a paradisiacal land, all would go in a contrasting way—in short, this span was so far similar to now, that a handful of its most clamorous officials would insist on its induction, for good or for bad, by an outstanding amount of comparison only.(word crawl): Original Part V: VILLIANS STRIKING BACKIt is dark days for our uprising. Although Doom-Star is in ruin, Royal troops flush out mutinous squads from hiding, pursuing all across this galaxy.Avoiding an imposing Royal Star-Armada, a group of opposition combatants, following Lucas Skywalk's command, forms a hush-hush outpost on a distant, icy world known as Hoth.Villianous lord Darth Vador, stubbornly trying to find young Skywalk, now hurls forth thousands of probing bots into all galactic tracts...(word crawl): Original Part VI: COMING OF A J’DILucas Skywalk visits again his birth world of Tatooin in a bid to spring his companion Han Solo from that foul Hutt thug Jabba’s grasp.But unknown to Lucas, construction starts on a mighty orbital attack station by that GALACTIC DOMINION who built Doom-Star I, with an assault capacity surpassing its first incarnation.If fully built, this utmost tool of doom will signal total annihilation for that small band of opposition warriors struggling to bring back autonomy to this galaxy…(random dialog): Original "I fail you, Anakin, I fail you.""How could I not know you knights had plans of taking control?!""Anakin, Councilman Palpatin is immoral!""From my way of looking at things, your kind act immoral!""If so, you stand lost!""This is your doom, my instructor."(intro narration): Original Cosmos: Our final unknown. This lays out our campaigns on a starship known as NCC-1701. Its continuing mission: to study unusual worlds, to look for original organisms and civilizations, to boldly go to locations no man has trod.(random dialog): Origin This is your last opportunity. Following this, it’s no turning back. You swallow this cobalt pill - our story wraps up with you waking on your futon, supposing what you may. You swallow this crimson pill - you stay in Fairyland and I show you how far this rabbit-burrow spans.I know of you. I am conscious of you now. I know of your dismay…your dismay about us. Afraid of anything changing. I don’t know what coming days may hold. I’m not saying how this will finish. I’m saying how it will start. I’m going to hang up, and I’m going to show folks what you don’t want shown. A world without you. A world without laws and controls, without voids or constraints. A world in which anything is a possibility. Our following act is of your own choosing.is a kind of writing constraint or word play consisting of writing paragraphs (or works surpassing a typical paragraph's word count) with a goal of avoiding a particular symbol or group of symbols—usually a common non-consonant, and customarily that symbol which is most common in an Anglic lingua franca . Classical Doric and Ionic works avoiding sigma stand as prototypical lipograms.Writing a lipogram is possibly a trivial task if avoiding uncommon symbols such as, or, but it is particularly difficult to avoid common symbols such as, or, as an author must omit many ordinary words. Composition of grammatically significant and smooth-flowing lipograms is usually difficult. Classifying lipograms can also stand as a tricky task, taking into account a possibility of an unwittingly lipogrammatic work. As illustration, Frost 's rhythmical compositioncontains no, but nobody has found any proof that this was fortuitous.is a block of words using all symbols of an ABC bank , minus a solitary glyph. As illustration, " This quick brown fox did jump in vain atop a lazy dog " omits, which this pangram usually contains.(V's introductory oration): Original Voilà! In your vision, an unassumingvirtuoso, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by divinity's will. This individual, hardly harboring a varnishing of vanity, is a vaporous ghost of our vox populi, now vacant, vanishing long ago. But this valorous visitation of a lost aggravation stands with vigor, and vows to vanquish avaricious and vitriolic varmints vanguarding villainy and vouchsafing a vigorously vicious and voracious violation of volition. No vacillating; I hold only a vying foras holy victual, not in vain, for its valuation and validity shall in distant days act as vindication for a vigilant and virtuous public. Obviously, this vori vori of voluminous vocalization is divagating most volubly, so allow my simply adding that it is my vastly good honor to run into you, and you may call yours truly V.'Ello! In eyesight, a humble expert of entertainment, cast empathetically as both easy mark and enemy by the erratic essence of fate. This expression, no mere exterior of egotism, is an echo of the electorate, now empty, evaporated. However, this expectant entrance of a by-gone exasperation stands energized, and has engaged to exterminate these exploitative and endemic earwigs engendering evil and enabling the extraordinarily excessive and edacious encroachment of entitlement. The only edict is an evening of score; an enmity, held in earnest, not emptily, for the estimation and exactness of such shall one day exonerate the eagle-eyed and the ethical. Evidently, this emulsion of expansive expression edges toward the euphuistic, so let me simply add that it is my extremely good honor to meet you, and you may call me E.by FDR: Original This past day, 12/07/1941 – a day which will last in infamy – our country was abruptly and willfully struck by naval and air units from Japan’s dominion.This country was not at war with that nation and, at Japan’s solicitation, was still in talks with its administration and its monarch looking toward a continuation of amity in Pacific tracts. In fact, a singular hour following bombing in Oahu by Japan’s air squadrons, Japan’s U.S. ambassador and his assistant brought to our Dignitary of Diplomacy a formal communication apropos of ours, from not long ago, to Japan. Although this communication said that it looks impractical to maintain ongoing diplomatic discussions, it did not contain any warning or hint of war or attack.Japan’s location from Hawaii obviously shows that this attack was consciously thought out many days or possibly months ago. During this span Japan’s political authority has willfully sought to trick our country by fictitious proclamations and voicing of aspirations for continuing concord.Last day’s attack on our Hawaiian Islands has brought about major havoc to U.S. naval and military units. Many of our nation’s compatriots lay cut down and slain. In addition information is coming in announcing bombing of U.S. ships in aquatic locations amidst San Francisco and Honolulu.This past day Japan’s administration would also launch attacks against Malaya. Last night found Japan’s troops attacking Hong Kong. Last night found Japan’s troops attacking Guam. Last night found Japan attacking Asia’s Filipino Islands. Last night found Japan attacking Wayk Island. This morning found Japan attacking Midway Island.Japan is, accordingly, carrying out ambush tactics throughout a Pacific vicinity, with facts of this prior day showing obvious animus. U.S. inhabitants, having by now drawn opinions, fully grasp any implications to our nation’s survival and inviolability.As topmost commandant of our Army and Navy, I am arranging that all actions vital for our guard occur.Thinking back on today will always bring to mind this onslaught against us. Surmounting such an invasion may loom as a long and difficult task, but our country’s virtuous might will win through to total victory.I trust I fathom our lawmaking council’s and our own population’s will in proclaiming that this country will not only guard its lands against attack, but will avow that this form of disloyalty shall not hazard us again.Hostility subsists. Nobody can dismiss this fact: Our public, our land, and our affairs risk crisis.With faith in our military – with untold conviction of our civilians – this nation will indisputably find triumph – may God avail us.I ask that our lawmaking council affirm that from Japan’s initial dastardly attack on Sunday, a condition of war stands among our U.S.A. and Japan’s dominion.Patrick Pippy's picking a pack of prickly plums. A pack of prickly plums will Patrick Pippy pick. If Patrick Pippy picks a pack of prickly plums, point out that pack of prickly plums that Patrick Pippy picks.Shia shills shrill skills by a still shoal. Shia’s skill at shrill shilling is soon a shoo-in. For if Shia shills shrill skills by a still shoal, A shoo-in soon is Shia’s shilling for his shrill skills.obnoxiously participating in a quad-monthly translation trial: “Seems,” peeress? Blech! Trewth! Reject “seems.”These elements, excellent begetter -The preferred jet vestments,Stressed wheezes,The peeper’s well-fed creek,The self’s dejected presence,The wretched temper’s scheme -Ne'er reflect me perfect. These well “seem,”Yet be mere scenes men present.Yet me? The tenderness exceeds pretense;These be regret's ensemble members thence.On this day in 2003, actor Arnold Schwarz. wins gov'ship of California, USA's most populous district which ranks fifth in worldly financial output. Although lacking a political background, Arnold wound up on top in a 77-day campaign to supplant Gray Davis. Davis is now that country's first gov. to go through a dismissal of position through popular voting, counting from 1921. Arnold was among 135 ballot aspirants, including politicians, actors, and an adult-film star.Totally cut off at Yorktown, Virginia, British Army administrator Lord Cornwallis submits to a substantial Franco-Colonial battalion, capitulating 8,000 British troops and sailors, unofficially bringing a conclusion to war.Lord Cornwallis was a highly skillful commandant throughout this war, driving Washington's Patriots troops out of NJ in 1776, and in 1780 winning a stunning victory at South Carolina. His following invasion of North Carolina did not find as much triumph, though, and in April 1781 Cornwallis trod on toward Virginia's coast with his worn out and hard-hit troops. From this spot, Cornwallis could maintain Atlantic paths of communication with Clinton's full British army in NY City.Upon conducting a string of raids against towns and plantations in Virginia, Cornwallis dug in at Yorktown in August, fortifying it and an abutting promontory across York's tributary.Washington told Marquis Lafayatt, who was in Virginia with a colonial army of around 5,000 troops, to block Cornwallis by land. Coinciding with this, Washington's 2,500 troops in NY would join with a Gallic army of 4,000 individuals junior to Count Rochambau. Washington and Rochambau had plans to attack Cornwallis with aid from a significant Gallic navy which Count Grassi was commanding, and on August 21 would cross Hudson's tributary to march south to Yorktown. This coalition would cross 200 mi. in 15 days.As this was occurring, a British armada of Admiral Thomas Grayvs' found it could not rout Gallic naval domination. This would rob Cornwallis of additional support.Within a month's passing, Grassi would transport Washington and Rochambau's troops to Virginia via its bay, at which point said troops, along with Lafayatt, would finish surrounding Yorktown. During that following month's first fortnight, 14,000 Franco-Colonial troops gradually won out against British positions with aid from Grassi's warships. A British armada carrying 7,000 individuals sought to bail out Cornwallis, but took too long to show up.Noor you-know-what (with thanks to u/rfleming for "Ava"):Wow, 6/26 (~23%) of my ABC "MVP" co. go away, MIA—do I boo-hoo much? Uh-uh! I box, I buck, I go, "Fuck you, oh hog of a void" w/a cocky maw. Yup, my maw v. a void, & void = mum. "You dim, dumb, void!" I add, cuz I'm of a good mood. (huzzah!) Okay, good idiom...good idiom...hmm, a mo if you may? Okay, Q: bad idiom = "bad food" of a "good book?" You hip? Gawk my quip:Adam & Ava—you duo who did chomp a "bad food" amid God. If you pick bad food—a mac, a fig, guava?—you pick doom...& mayhap pick up ophidiophobia, copy? Ha, ha...ha. Huh? Oh.pick doom:X off 6/26? Much 2 much. A fuck-up, a goof A-Z. My yucky idiom = bad food, bad juju. Iboo-hoo. Babyhood —> boyhood —> big guy —> fogy —> bug food, via a mad God. "How good of you Ava, you who had a faux bough-chum,” I mock. By & by, I jump off a high dam...my body quaff'd by a void. Dam'd.Noor you-know-what:Fully usurp 6/26 glyph MVPs? Yuck! Why such glum, dumb curbs? Why cull such glyphs? Schmuck! Churl! U suck!s suck! (j/k. Why cry? By & by, u crush dull lulls w/ur, uh...guru's bluff? Sly blurbs duly fly.)K, drum up plump & burly glyph-clumps...plump & burly glyph-clumps...uh, "sulfhydryl!" (huh?) Hmm..."gypsy!" Um...fuck. K. My crummy skull=cumulus fluff, 0% full. Yup, my surplus luck's "s'd" up. Ur glyph gulf slurps & burps; my bulk succumbs. Bury my husk, my mummy? My mummy'll jus' lurch up & rub ur hussy mum's jugs. j/k? Hyuk-hyuk![That was hard. Sorry about that gratuitous barb about your mom, OP]What an anal craftsman that can hatch a damn hard madcap grammar law!s that start as hallmark stars fast appall. Well, see these sentences?-centered, yes? We never remember the letter's precedence, except when free speech emerges enfettered. I find inhibiting writing is tiring. Still, I'll risk this limit gimmick. I'll fight with livid might till nihilistic fright which instills dim thinking is nigh. So go on, for too soon do floods of word monsoons blow low on cool brows, to doom moods of gloom from word po-po. Oh no, don't sob, poor hog! Yup, sup up surplus luck, plus shut up such bluffs. Truth: Dumbstruck much? Humbug. /huffs, puffs; usurps chumps; burps up smug guff :/Stopping at traffic lights is akin to having to sit through TV ads.Taco Ding-Dong for this guy. Soo tasty, I just can’t grow sick of it. Okay, so I admit it's about six basic fixings combining in a thousand various ways, but still. My #1 pick at that chain is its pollo burrito. Mmm, saucy ranch avocado bliss, yummy. Chalupa's good too, with its pillowy fry-dough.And allow my saying right now: Nasty rumors and myths of "ass-plosions" don’t hold up to scrutiny, saving if your stomach's constitution is about on par with a baby's. Oh, and Chilpoctli can suck it. Can't stand cilantro, and I say no thanks to food poisoning. I know how popular it is, though...down-arrows incoming?(apropos of a participant writing, "I'm fond of taco ding dong also. My most common pick is its milk-curdy gordita crunch [its spicy ranch is boss], but I'll go for a spicy tostada any day, as long as I load it up with hot liquid first."):Aw yiss that spicy saucy liquid must run through my blood by now to a warm pumping chalupa of an organ*, its anticipatory thumps tickling my potato-Stuft® brain with burritoful thoughts.*of a cardiac sort. This is a PG analogy so I won't start up with any talk of sour dairy product, thank your stars.I'll sum up a trinity of my sci-fi favs, all popular, so not too hard to work out:I'll sit in my condo with lights off and pray nobody shows up. Ain't got no candy for you!Don't worry, you still got tons of common words to pick from!Nothing fancy. Putting on that ol' Santa suit, drinking too much, singing off-pitch carols to nobody in particular, shouting and cursing at kids, attacking Christmas firs for imaginary slights against my honor (crushing many a child's gift in doing so), passing out and waking up in a pool of crusty vomit, possibly in jail...you know, just your basic sort of traditions. Ah, Christmas magic. I can't wait."Thou shalt not commit masochism in thy translations, or thou wilt maintain thy sanity not. Didst thou fully think this through, bro?"Oh, just nifty. How about contrary to that, mods put a kind of mark by login IDs of AV-oids thatcontain fifthglyph? You know, to sort such individuals out. Possibly, I dunno, a star? You glyphist. X(/Godwin's law/Po-'s Law/Col-slaw (what, I'm hungry.)I'm from a land of 10,000 ponds, abutting Canada. Twins and Vikings land. Origin of Mayo Clinic and 3M. Famous for a "Juicy Lucy" sandwich. And no, most of us don't talk as you saw actors intalk.These verses seem excellent. Decedent Perec expresses cheer, we deem. He tells well the present messes re: severe letter check stresses. The sheer nerve sends trembles neck-deep. Cheers!