I am replying to your letter from last week. I also wanted to tell you that if you are gointo deliver me a letter, do not do it on the back of a unicorn. It’s “disguise” did not work at all. It only made the unicorn more obvious. People started to call the cops, and I had to get the unicorn to run away, which is much harder than it actually sounds.
I am very thankful that I can help you Aris. I had a great time helping arganee, and now that it is safe, I feel good about your future. M told me that when you traveled here you used the door. Why didn’t you pop out in our classroom? In your letter you said that there was a past gateway that made Arganee “explosive”. There are a lot of bad people online, and that can be a major problem. Was it people abusing the network that caused Arganee to become explosive? Or was their a bad alchemist controlling it? Also, Tokyo isn’t in the Bronx but Japan, and Cambridge is in England, not the U.S. You really need to take Earth studies. You have a lot to learn Aris, but that is ok. Me too.
I do have quite a bit to learn. Here are the some of things I learned in Networked Narratives and also in my travels to Arganee:
- I learned how to make memes and gifs.
- I learned how to use twitter in a responsible and fun way
- I learned how to use a hashtag to connect
- I learned how to build a thoughtful blog
- I learned how to use a network
- I learned how to write blackout poetry
- I learned how to do improv and netprov
- I learned the beginnings of digital alchemy
- I learned how to make a character who is like me, but also really different than me
- I learned how to connect with other people
- I learned how to use Hypothes.is
- I learned how to share in a webinar
- I learned how to make and edit sound files
- I learned how to participate in a twitter chat
- I learned how to “Cook with Anger”
- I learned how to write in different digital spaces
- I learned how to collaborate with other people to make a bigger story
I learned a lot in #NetNarr. I am glad I participated in it,. Every Wednesday I would wake up and look forward to it. I am so happy I was the first kid to ever participate in it. I am sad that it is “paused for now”, but next year I will be able to help other kids be a part of the alchemy. I will try to keep the hashtag alive with some posts here and there.
Joining Networked Narratives was one of the best things I ever did.
Thank you NetNarr for the digital alchemy. Thank you Arganee for the fun.
The other day while I was eating a cookie, I received a strange letter arriving pinned on the back of a unicorn. This unicorn had a sign on it that said “Normal Human Animal”. I think my alchemist friend from Arganee needs to take a class on Earth species. Anyway, the letter was quite peculiar:
My goaafy friend,
I am writing to tell you that I am thankful for your help. Rebeg contacted me and the other alchemists to tell us the results of our mission. It turns out that everybody survived and the planet is thriving. Thanks to your contributions, arganee has new connections and knowledge.
I visited Earth the other day and decided to travel around. Yesterday I flew in that flying metal bird you call a plane. Looks like some futuristic torture device, made to break a human’s mind. I sat there for 6 hours to end up in the wrong place. Isn’t Tokyo in the Bronx? I ended up in some strange place called New York City in Europe. And then when I tried to get to Kean University for the party, I ended up in Cambridge.
Rebeg contacted me and said that there is a rip in the time continuum. I don’t know where it is, but hopefully in a more hidden place than last time. It supposedly is a direct gateway from arganee to Earth. The last gate was the reason why arganee became “explosive.”
Tomorrow I am going to collect a box of Earth items and traditions to take home with me. Hopefully they will be beneficial on our kind. I like that
game you play. It is called Team Fortress 2, right?
Your world is strange, but has a good vibe. You and your oth
er goaafy friends will be remembered as heroes (I think. I have to wait for M’s approval). I have to say goodbye now. Arganee needs me. But I will see you soon. Peace out!
From your magical friend,
This week in NetNarr I befriended an imaginative alchemist named Aris Anastos (@Aris_Anastos). He seemed to be from the dying world of #arganee. He wrote a flavorful story for me called “A Pinch of Homesickness”:
A Pinch of Homesickness
1/8 whisper of disapproval
1/4 pinch of homesickness
One day a 17 year old boy was walking down the street, dreaming of becoming an archaeologist. He was just about to be home when he saw a tattoo shop. He thought to himself why not check it out. When he went into the shop, he noticed a strange symbol on the sample board. That would look cool on me, he said to himself.
45 minutes later he came out of the shop and started to walk home to find his mom worried sick. “Where have you been!? Your dinner is…” She paused and looked down at his tattoo. “…is on the table.” The boy sat down and started eating. “What is in this soup?” he asked. His mom responded by saying “Some coriander and ⅛ a whisper of disapproval.” His cheeks turned a bright shade of red, for even though he felt no pain when he got the tattoo, he didn’t realise the pain might be felt by others.
The next day in school his teacher stopped him at the door. “Where did you get that tattoo?” She asked. He then responded “At the new tattoo store.” She then she said with a seriousness on her face “That symbol you chose is an ancient sign that means that the wearer seeks something. Perhaps what you seek is buried in the past.” The boy was puzzled. The whole school day he was thinking about what his teacher said. He decided to leave home to dig up the past in search of artifacts, traces, and more whispers.
When he arrived at his apartment a bottle of champagne was sitting at the table. “What was there to celebrate?” he thought to himself. The label said “MADE WITH ¼ A PINCH OF HOMESICKNESS”. All of these signs seemed to foretell his departure, like his life was controlled by a divine force.
He placed a note on the table that expressed his regrets. He took one last glance at the apartment, then left.