-EUPHORBIA TRIGONA FORGE-
-------Unison Brainstormed v.3--------
Creator : Marek Wojtal
E-mail : info-is@in-file
Skinname : Unison Brainstormed
Version : 3.0
URL: http://homepages.compuserve.de/marekwojtal
Inspiration :
Music by NiN & David Bowie.
All the nice people who mailed me
Thanks to :
All the fabulous literary golems who drop me brainstorms, ideas, stories or feelings to Unison.
SiMONE for first opinion, critics & patience.
Other Skins for Winamp 2.x done by me
(in order of appereance) :
1. Euphorbia Trigona
2. 1914
3. SiMONE
4. WROCLAW
5. Unison Brainstormed
6. REPTILE
7. Forge
BRAINSTORM-AREA :
The following stories are feedbacks I got from all the nice people who contacted me.
These stories are ideas, memories, or just cool brainstorming the people had while looking at Unison-skin.
Thanks again.
But now..... let some stories begin...
Brainstorm and memories by Lary Dawg :
.....i was 10 years old or so , and id just started finding out about good books like pet semetary , by stephen king reading this book , i remember "gage's mother"(i cant remember the name) telling her husband a story about when she was a child , how her sister had a horrible , crippling disease , and her mother had kept her sealed in the attic , hidden away from her guests , and even her own eyes gage's mother had to feed her sister , and she hated it in there , dusty and eery , old lace browned from years of dust , white linen soiled and musty .... the description of the room had me shivering , nearly crying with fear , even though i knew it was just a book i heard a few years later that pet semetary was available for rent on vhs tape , and i thought "a book made into a movie ... not for me" when i did finally watch it with a friend , the rendering of that scene id envisioned in my head years before was so intense i found myself lost in the movie , cringing away from the screen ,
and i think i saw a machine in that room beside the wooden wheelchair that looked exactly like your unison skin .... coincidence ?
Brainstorm by Andrea Rivolta (Italy) :
Unison ... reminds me the atmosphere of the game Blood, of some Iron Maiden's records, most of all Powerslave, of Tim Burton's films and of Bulkagow's works .... it's a gothic computer or a reed synthesizer, it's a good symbol of what I am, flesh and bits, a biomechanical golem ..... it's time to disconnect from the computer and go to recharge my batteries in my bed: unfortunately my data interface and my power supply input are on the same connector.
Weird story by "phuc you" contact: "info-is@in-file"
....i was kicking it on a boat called the S.S. minnow, We were out on a 3 hour tour, it was cool except for this dopey kinda guy always breaking shit, well anyways he steared us into some rocks and everybody DIED the most horrible death you could imagine, sept for one girl named ginger. We Boinked, she killed her self, i found a weird machine i didnt know what it did, it looked as the skin you have now does, i started turning nobs and stuff and some words popped up, they said "set date to flux; quantumn capasitorr ready" so i put in a date, and it said "key in tonal sequence" and i was like huh? so i started jamming out some kool ramms+ein tunes on the keys and the words "unison of time particals from set date to present date are aligned" everything warped and i wound up back on the boat, getting ready to fuck ginger after a dangerous boat wreck.....
Idea by Wisdom :
....it reminds me of a dashboard from some ridiculously ornate turn of the century motor car.
Narration by Vadim George Cusnarencu (Romania) contact : info-is@in-file
... I was eighteen and sober as always. I shhok my head: some blue eyes of some girl were still there. I entered my grandfather's garage. His old Corvette, covered by a thick army blanket was helding his breath for several years and i was going to end his sleep today. I pulled his rusty cover: wood shiny wheel, black leathered chairs, red paint, convertable, short gear stick. The engine roared. Free drive, blind speed, and high adrenaline. But something was missing. When I thought @ that a nice driving music bursted in the air from nowhere. It was from my car. Where from?, I wondered. In front of the gear stick I saw a golden dim shine. I took the leather driving glove and I dusted the music machine. An old bronze machine with many rusted buttons was singing a song about rain. The rain begin to fall and I covered the car. I was alone with my good music and my misterious stareo. I remembered a story of my parents about a strange music machine, bought a long time ago, from a chinese salesman, who bought it from an Atlatic island. A chinese song began to play: only harp. I don't give a damn about history. I'm interested only in music, and that was all I have ever wanted. And so I decided to start a tour of the world. The bronze machine lighted up from the inside and the song changed: "Is the end of the world as we know it"...
Brainstorm by Elton Mesquita contact : info-is@in-file
"Euphorbia Trigorna", Malcolm Akhtonem said, when the noise finally died down and we could hear ourselves again. The past five minutes were a complete pandemonium, as the shuttle's machinery hissed and clanked, complained and moaned under the unimaginable pressure of the tunnel we have been crossing. The tunnel, we believed, was a "worm-hole", somehow made crossable. And cross it we did, yet unwillingly. The shuttle's interior had resisted well to the trip, but the signs of metal stress were everywhere. Amazed as I was with the purpose of that ship (dimensional leaps) and its appearance (looked like a batyscaphe from the final of the 19th century - it had WOODEN parts, for God's sake...), I took little time to consider its resistance at such adverse conditions. From time to time some of the pipes running along the walls would hiss and expel gas, and a crackling noise of electrical discharges was our background sound all the time. Were we safe, or the "Munnim", named after one of Odin's crow (which served him as his memory), was about to explode, leaving us stranded in a distant... where were we, anyway? Akhtonem was staring, eyes wide open and a smile in his face, to the window, and his swarthy, alien/egyptian skin glowed in excitement. "Euphorbia Trigona", he repeated. "I recognise the system. There's Autor 3 and his twin star Denea. When I joined him and looked to the direction he was staring at, I could not refrain from shedding a tear, and my skin tingled several times. I never felt such fear in all my two hundred and thirty-two years, nor such awe, such humbleness, and another feeling yet to be named. I was contemplating The Numinous. First of all, we were in space. Leaving alone that, we could see, above our heads... the gigantic spiral arms of a galaxy. Of Euphorbia Trigona. Slowly it moved, with a grace unknown to me. With a texture that seemed somewhat milky, velvet-like. And with a special glow, majestic and delicate. Above our heads, like a god's eye. It was the most beautiful (even though "beatiful" does not applyed there) thing I've ever seen. In a moment I knew exactly my place in the Universe. I stared at my hands, trembling. Carbon, hydrogen, quarks, gluons... energy. I knew we were going to die. We had little food and water, but... I would talk to Malcolm. In the end, I wanted to be release out there. I would join my sisters, the stars. Then he said: "I'm gonna make some coffee. This will take a little while..." There was a smirk in his face, the same I saw as we escaped, through bribery, the Maximum Security Prison Koth Annun in his planet. "What?" I said, yet shattered by all the things that had happened in the last day. Being condemned to death in a distant planet, escaping prison and stealing the dimensional shuttle, having seen the interior of a worm-hole and being stranded in distant space. One of the screens showed the platform from where we departed. Guards, scientists and burocrats walked to and fro, talked, then left. but too fast. As if in a hyper-accelerated film, they were like blurs in the screen. And the platform was... aging. Rust was rapidly forming in the metal parts everywhere. The lights died out. The camera stopped filming. "What?" I repeated, feeling so so numb. "Ironic, uh?", he said, as the coffee heated in the plastig bags. "We were sentenced to death, and now to the people who condemned us we are like immortals." Then I understood what he was talking about. We were near light-speed, and probably trapped in the gravity field of one of the outer arms of the galaxy above. Near light speed meant also that time would pass much faster to... well to all the other living creatures in the Universe than to us. Director Raksari was probably dead by now, and so his sons, in a few minutes his grandsons... yes, ironic. "What do we do now, Malcolm?" I asked. He returned to the window and made himself comfortable. "To them you're like a god now, man. Behave as one.", he said, as he passed my coffee, eyes already fixed in the unbelievable view we had before us. "Contemplate".
Memory by Ferran contact : info-is@in-file
...it's strange, but it makes me remember an old story. As I know you like that people tell you some stories, so here goes this one. Well, its no too long, its only that my first kiss with a girl was in a church, surely without anyone inside, and there was an old piano, wow! man this skin makes me dream, i feel so excited, like if now i were there.
http://homepages.compuserve.de/marekwojtal
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t i m e h o s t a g e
u p d a t e d
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we do not control time
it controls us
therefore, we are all hostages of time
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