Denson House Writing Magazine 2024

Editor’s Note

Welcome to the Denson House Writing Magazine!

Behind the beautiful cover, masterfully designed by resident artistic talent James, awaits a fantastic collection and representation of the literary skill our house harbours. In 24 pages you will experience heartbreak, ecstasy and maybe even learn something. We’ll warm you up to some of the more emotionally charged pieces by starting with the happier ones.

We have collated for you the very best that Denson has to offer and our various, incredibly creative interpretations of this year’s theme, messages. From stories that convey elaborate messages themselves or comprehensive analyses of the messages given in the past, even a few recipes and menus to help you to cook up your own messages.

We hope to replicate last year's success under the masterful leadership of Isaac Sallé and Alex Davis who I also would like to profusely thank for imparting all their house writing wisdom, even when I was texting them in the middle of the night.

However, this year rather than an incredible English student and a history and politics wizard, this year, Denson and yourself will have to make do with me, an all STEM student who got a five in his English literature GCSE.

I’m not doing this by myself of course, that would be a true disaster. I want to thank the fantastic team of editors who have had to put up with me badgering them for the last couple months. This brilliant team consists of Ruben Munday, Hrishik Subramani, Will Pringle, Tom Poole, Ishaan Sehgal, George Jackson, Ricky Jacobs, Manas Tannan, Laksh Mahajan, Josh David, Harrison Jay and Luke Brimmicombe, all of whom have put in a tremendous amount of man hours to produce this magazine.

I would also like to thank Mr Walker for putting up with all the late assembly notices I have sprung upon him but in particular for being such a supportive advocate for our House Writing efforts.

And of course, thank you to the overwhelming number of people who submitted their pieces for the magazine. Your 160 pieces were all exceptional and we enjoyed reading every single one of them. Thank you for your efforts and apologies for not being able to include them all; unfortunately, there’s a limit to how much the font can be reduced…

Enough with the formalities. This is Denson House. We are your editors. And please, join us as we traverse through the imagination of our house and read the trove of messages they have to deliver.

Ratatouille - Disney’s Chef D’œuvre Diyon D11

Messages. The core of every film, book, song or TV show that every director, author and singer hopes to portray through their illustrious work. And it is this very message that every universe created is built around, meticulously trying to put across this one single essence.

Ratatouille. A film that focuses on the aspirations and dreams of a single rat, an animal that one does not attribute to the feeling of hope and wonder, but more the opposite. Watching the film, we quickly learn of Remy’s dream of culinary success, and it is with this dream that he becomes the puppet master of young Linguini, a janitor from the streets of Paris, and starts to show off his exquisite culinary ability. Early in this film we are presented with the simple memorandum of “Anyone can cook” from the renowned french chef, Gusteau, a saying which Remy holds dear to his heart as he ventures through the culinary world, faced with challenges of secrecy, promises and even his own puppet becoming his own.

The real challenge, however, comes when Remy is presented to the other chefs at Gusteau and when he is rejected, the rat and Linguini are left alone and in sorrow. Here we are shown the low point of Remy’s life even trouncing the loss of his family and friends in the opening scenes of the film. And it is in this low point where he is manipulated by his inner rat qualities and his family, to steal from the restaurant. However in their escapade, they are found by Linguini, and Remy is banished from the restaurant for the foreseeable future.

This gut-wrenching scene is where we find Remy questioning his whole life and the dream he so desperately wanted. But as many know, it is in the lowest point where we are able to make the greatest change, and so in the rat’s sorrow he is filled with vigour and heads back to the restaurant to find his greatest challenge yet waiting for him: Anton Ego. The only critic to ever give Gusteau's a black mark. Yet Remy is not put down by this foe and leads his family to take over the restaurant and cook up a dish that perfectly represents Remy as a character: Ratatouille, a dish that seems to be only fit for the peasants, yet when eaten even by the foulest of critics, is able to put a smile on one’s face.

It is within the closing scenes where we see Ego’s view on the matter. Here we are finally presented with a message fir for such a film and its story; “Not everyone can be a good artist, but an artist can come from anywhere”. A saying that represents Remy, his humble beginnings and the dream that he finally achieves.

Voilà le film parfait.

Dreams

Josh D9

Everybody has a dream, You will always remember that dream , Whether it’s to be a footballer, A rugby player, An author, An astronaut, Every person has a dream,

Don’t be lazy, Fight for what you want, Learn that when you’re tired in the morning, Or late at night, Rest, DO NOT QUIT, You have to know that.

I spend two or more hours a day, Six days a week, Getting towards my goal, And I won’t stop until I achieve that dream, That’s one of the choices I’ve made to become the person I want to be , And I will continue this until I achieve that dream

Go to sleep earlier in the evening thinking about what to do next, Wake up and do something with your dreams, Don’t let your dreams be dreams, Let them be reality.

Fail - Give up, Or, Fail - First Attempt In Learning, So when you feel like giving up, Wake up, And carry on until you get it right Chase your dreams until you catch them and make them reality.

Now go back and read every bold underlined word.

Earth of Light Dirushan D9

Whispers in the wind, Invisible threads that bound the trees together, Messages carried from the roots afar, In a language indiscernible, A symphony of words unspoken, In the silence, messages taken, Echoes of tales and information untold, In the realm where dreams shall unfold,

The rustle of the penetrating leaves, a plea is heard,

Nature’s language, wild and free, Each breeze a messenger of the Earth, Conveying stories of death and birth,

In the depths of the blue ocean’s, Whales sing melodies, ancient and new, Their beautiful songs traverse to through the sea,

A message of belonging, lightening the view.

The crackling fire, a poet’s dream, Dancing flames, flickering shadows, They speak of warmth and safety to embrace,

A message of comfort in every space,

Messages from above George D8

John was frozen on the spot. It was a miserable, cold, overcast day and the clouds threatened another downpour. He was rooted to the spot beside the grave of his father. The man he admired most in the world, who had guided him through everything. From doing his homework, learning to drive and first job. Of all the people he knew, he respected his father the most. He had no idea how to move forward. The wake was being held at his sister's house and he was dreading the prospect of seeing the rest of the mourners and their sympathy.

Over the following days, John had to push himself to do any task however mundane Everything seemed like a struggle He knew his father would have supported him, dusted him down and motivated him to get on with his life he just didn’t know where to start

The will reading was scheduled for later in the day. Not something he was particularly looking forward to. Everyone had assembled at the lawyer's office. A sombre affair with other family members speculating what part of his father’s estate would be theirs. John had tuned out, wishing it to be over, when he heard his name being mentioned. Much to everyone’s surprise (and annoyance), his father had left him the family home and his vintage 1968 Jaguar E-Type! Once the rest of the, now disgruntled, family left the office the lawyer called John over and quietly passed him a letter. He was instructed to read it on his own. The letter read…

John,

My dear son, I love you more than I can say. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t looked after me in my final months. I know after I pass, you will feel rudderless and find it hard to continue. We have always spent so much time together and supported one another. This will be hard for you to hear, but you must move on and live your life to the fullest. As a starting point, why don’t you take a much-needed rest and go on a road trip? I have left you the car (no one else deserved it really) and the house You have a base to come back to and means to go and explore Like we used to do together I’ll always be with you my son, now go and get out on the road, with the music loud and have some fun Dad

John smiled and picked up the keys.

Whispers of Connection Bravinth D10

In the morning bus, wheels moving slow, Silent stories in transit, whispers a glow.

Amidst the seats, a quiet ballet, Hushed tales as we journey away.

In shared silence, secrets find flight, A bus ride of dreams in the soft morning light.

In scenarios hushed, where silence prevails, Life's quiet beauty, a tale it unveils. When hushed with whispers, find the power to be, Woven to your focus points' tapestry.

Classroom quiet, a crowd of hush, Pencils flush on paper, minds in a rush. Lunchrooms chatter with strong bonds that matter, Connections forming, friendships to scatter.

Through shared glances and whispers near, Friendships bloom in the lunchroom's rear.

In the library where books gracefully flow, Quiet voices rustle pages, where your knowledge goes.

The Moral Message

Hrishik D12

The moral message is something that permeates our world, on a series of different scales, locally and globally. Everyone on the planet has to some degree some understanding of their moral compass, but where does this pivotal and ubiquitous message come from?

It is generally understood that the moral message stems from the spread of one's own perception of morality and is thought to come from either childhood learning (and from other people's interpretation of the characteristics required in a functioning individual of modern civilisation), or that it stems from an innate moral compass which comes from inbuilt in the human. I will discuss minimally, some of the arguments which have been raised for both sides.

To the prospect that morality comes built-in humans from birth, an easy counter would be that if it was innate, then different cultures would have the same interpretation of morality This argument has been raised by opponents of this vein of thought, however, it can be easily dismantled by the idea in general that morality is a universal concept. It is nigh on impossible to find core conceptual differences between the ideas which build up the theme of morality across all cultures; the message is entirely hinged on helping others in times of need. If the concept is the same, then the idea of an innate, already aligned moral compass becomes all the more reasonable and still holds water as a possible explanation for the origin of a moral message.

To the contrary, it does seem difficult to comprehend the idea that we, who have evolved and survived through a process of natural selection, changed to accommodate others, who are not as ‘fit’ as us as according to survival of the fittest, and be fair to them according to our morals. One could argue that form an evolutionary perspective, this stems from inclusive fitness, ie. helping out your family members and those in your gene pool to conserve your genealogy.But as Tomasello points out in the Scientific American, we are not ants or bees, to work in this way. You could just easily say that this morality comes from our understanding of mutual beneficence; i.e. if you help someone, they can help you. It is this explanation that resonates with me the most; the core logical train of thought behind societal interdependence is what results in a feeling of obligation to be fair,even ‘chivalrous’ to others around us Unfortunately, this explanation ultimately suggests that morality, a principle steeped in honour, is rooted in self-benefit, but I feel that we can disregard this entirely, because of the essence of the ‘greater good’ that it creates in modern society

In conclusion, the moral message we spread in civilization, which is the empirical reason why our modern society is as functioning and beautiful as it is, originates from interdependence in society which we understand to be beneficial to us as individuals. Despite being a selfish prospect, the moral message is what makes our society bearable, and has the potential to metamorphose into a more innate and true to society axiom in the future, which is a positive outlook for the future of mankind.

The Subtext of messages

Oscar D9

A simple piece of kindness falls from within with the click of your heart opening up to the actions of another. It is a rare thing to find the happy part of a message, with so much dark around, what are we truly supposed to expect with all of the misery and sorrow in our world? The kindness of a message or act from another comes from the deepest part of a person

As a day goes past, people send a message, receive a message and sometimes intercept a message, but what lies between this is the subtext of a message, the bit that is meant to get across to us that no one sees, that no one knows because there is so little there, the beauty of a message is a hidden meaning, what the sender wants to say, even if they cannot say it.

A declaration of care and compassion or an aggravated footnote that would read hatred and unkindness, whatever it is we look for, we must always find the meaning intended. A message is never what we are supposed to see, whether this be in a text or video message or a clip of sound recorded for you. A piece of paper passed around people perpetrating the perseverance of the sender sending something personal, reading what we shouldn’t.

In every message there is reason and so we must open our minds to what those others think, see whether it’s care and kindness or whether it’s malice and depression. We will always have a deeper meaning in a message and we need to find what they are because sometimes they shape a day or a lifetime or simply that few seconds of happiness or sadness, they make a massive impact.

Be careful with the meaning of our messages

Messages from everywhere

Seth D10

We start at the bottom of the ocean with a large cable transmitting signals through it to send messages from one place to another. As we float our way up to the surface we see a tube bobbing on the water, no its a bottle. Inside it contains a piece of paper with a message saying a boat is stuck at sea. The boat is nearby, as we approach the sailors set off a flare they have lost all contact with the land so this is the only way to send a message. A small pigeon is soaring through the sky carrying a piece of parchment- a message. As we ascend to space a satellite is sending messages and being sent messages.

Message from Space

Josh D12

EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE CONFIRMED

20th November 3183

Reported by Yasir Farah, Denson Media

The question ‘Is there Extraterrestrial Life out there?’ has finally been answered in an unprecedented discovery

A group of scientists from the University of Aylesbury received the encrypted message at 07:00 GMT+0 on the 20th of November 3183

Their message logs read as follow:

Communication: 8AO-1

Distance: 54 Light Years

Nearest Star: Wolf 1061

Frequency: 92300 Hertz

Angle: 218.84 degrees

Date: 5th March 3183 15:30 GMT+0

Message Sent:

Hello/ Bonjour/ Hola/ Zdravstvuyte/ Salve/ Konichiwa/ Guten Tag/ Olá/ Shikamoo/ Goedendag/ Yassas/ Dzień/ Namaskar/ Merhaba/ Shalom/ - - --- /01001000 01000101 01001100 01001100 01001111

Communication: 8AO-1

Distance: 54 Light Years

Nearest Star: Wolf 1061

Frequency: 92300 Hertz

Angle: 218.84 degrees

Date: 20th November 3183 07:00 GMT+0

Message Received:

ⓕ↣ↇ⥥⇎⭒⊄⿈◖➮⑃ ⌜⺱₸ ⺆⠹⫹ •⬑ . ⱴ⼞⊦⫀⨭╕⒀⤪↣ ⵋ ⏃ ⽻⊹⋦⧮

The discovery was spread around the globe in a matter of hours with the response being mixed

President David said the following: “This will go down as one of, if not the biggest discovery of the human race” and claimed that “we [the United Kingdom] will do all we can to support the scientists to make further contact with these beings, whatever they might look like.”

Mr Salle of NASA said the following to Denson news: “We need to be cautious of Extraterrestrial life from now on. They were not a threat until this morning. We need immediate laws in place and immediate defence systems updated on a global scale. These scientists have basically projected our current position to whatever is out there, like a flare.”

One of the scientists, Professor Akinwumi, who sent the message, spoke publicly to the media shortly after the announcement: “I was as shocked as anyone when the message came through We have been sending the same message to multiple stars throughout the galaxy manually for the last 3 years with each message taking about 1 days for each light year

So 54 light years took about 54 days to send and a further 54 days to receive back We started obviously with the closest and worked our way back We started with a team of 150 people, and when the message was received, we had 22 including myself May didn't believe we could do this so left Today we prove that the last 3 years of work was for a good cause. However we still have a long way to go. Anyone who is willing to help decode, please contact our company at:

spacemessage@mail.com”

However, there are many that have their speculation about the message. Flynn Timberlake of SpaceNews.com had the following to say: “Many have been searching for extraterrestrial life for the last 1400 years, and you're telling a group of 22 scientists found it on a random Tuesday Morning? Not a chance If you ask me, this is all a big hoax with random symbols, you're not fooling me”

As many around the world celebrate this historic achievement, others have scepticism This will obviously be covered for the next few days, weeks and even months. To stay up to date, with this story, following Denson Media.

An Early Bird, an Elephant and Us: Truth Manas D12

Eye for eye, tooth for a tooth! Or turn to them the other cheek. Is half a loaf better than none or should you do it well, or not at all? Good things come to those who wait, right? But wait! The Early Bird had already caught the worm.

Headmaster, Mr Adjudicator, Ladies and Gentlemen, which message is correct?

The first concern would be to determine what we mean by correct Day-to-day, we are bound by law; laws such you must wear a seat belt. Therefore, if you wear a seat belt, you are correct - if you choose not to, you are incorrect and face the consequences. Yet, once upon a time, seat belts did not exist - people drove cars without them. Does this make the message, ‘you must wear a seat belt’, incorrect?

Of course, it depends on the period Whilst wearing a belt today is mandatory, it was not just a century ago demonstrating that correctness changes with time Crucially, this is not to say there is no correct message, just that ideas that constitute correctness can change

Similarly, the messages I began with require context; what is correct for one situation may not be for another. Case in point: I struggle with perfectionism - convincing myself to write this ‘well, or not at all’ is not conducive to my productivity - I would probably never begin However, to someone investing much time - say on exams - it is far better to revise thoroughly and get things right the first time than to resit Therefore, we can agree that context is critical in choosing the right advice

But the correct message also depends on us.

The crux of many debates is a dichotomy: to change or not. Messages like ‘get Brexit done’ and ‘defend traditional values’ illustrate this Our opinions on complex ideas like these often reflect our ideologies, where our views are influenced by being liberal or conservative, for example Here, we confront subjectivity - the idea that the correct message varies from person to personcontingent on our fundamental beliefs

So, is anything objectively correct?

Perhaps not for day-to-day concerns, such as exams or politics, but for many Christians, morality is constant. ‘Thou shalt not kill,'one of the Ten Commandments billions subscribe to - a universal, unchanging and categorically correct message

Others, however, would argue that the only objective truth is that which cannot be spoken For them, the question we inquired at the start is wrong: no message can be wholly, indubitably, correct since any message is a product of the mind, meaning it reflects the thinking subject rather than the object of thought. For instance, modern science shows us that grass is not intrinsically greenwe see it as green because of the rods and cones in our retinas: this is the subject-object duality.

Hence, Hindus argue that the truth must be one yet known by different names A famous illustration of this concept is the parable of the blind men and the elephant, where each man touches a different part of the elephant's body, such as the trunk, the tusk or the tail As such - even though they all feel the same animal - their descriptions of the elephant differ

Likewise, as the blind men cannot comprehend the entirety of the elephant, we cannot see absolute truth because it is beyond our senses. Metaphorically, the most fundamentally correct truth certainly exists (as the elephant does) and is universally present - yet attempts to describe the elephant through message are futile because of the human condition

Ineffably existing: objective truth is an elephant

While objective reality may be beyond our senses, the blind men and the elephant are also a lesson in subjective perception. Were they disagreeing about different approaches to an exam or a political affair, had the blind men shared their ideas and compared their messages, they would have developed a more accurate message.

Therefore, with open-mindedness and communication, instead of a ‘correct message’, ladies and gentlemen, we can realise our collective messages point to the same truth

That was my message. I would love to hear yours.

Recipe for Delivering an Effective Message.

Tobi D13

Ingredients:

A dash of clarity

A pinch of empathy

A teaspoon of persuasion

A cup of relevance

A tablespoon of authenticity

�� Prep: 10 mins

1. Begin with a dash of clarity. Ensure your message is crystal clear and easily understandable. Simplify your language and structure to make it accessible to your audience. For instance, instead of saying "whether it's through storytelling, compelling arguments, or emotional appeal," streamline it to "using storytelling, compelling arguments, or emotional appeal.

2 Sprinkle in a pinch of empathy Put yourself in the shoes of your audience and consider their perspectives, emotions, and needs. Empathising with them will help you tailor your message to resonate deeply. Share relatable anecdotes or examples to foster a stronger connection.

3. Next, add a teaspoon of persuasion. Incorporate persuasive techniques such as storytelling, compelling arguments, or emotional appeal to influence your audience's thoughts, beliefs, or actions. Provide concrete examples or case studies to illustrate your points and make them more compelling.

4. Pour in a cup of relevance. Ensure your message is timely and pertinent to your audience's interests, needs, and concerns. Tailor your communication to address their specific challenges or aspirations, demonstrating the value and importance of your message to them

5. Lastly, incorporate a tablespoon of authenticity. Be genuine and sincere in your communication, reflecting your true beliefs, values, and intentions. Share personal stories or experiences to show vulnerability and build trust with your audience.

6 Mix these ingredients thoughtfully, ensuring each element complements the others to create a powerful and effective message. Just like a well-crafted recipe, delivering an effective message requires careful attention to detail and the right balance of ingredients.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 145 ratings

Denson Diner

Jeremy D9

Starter Main Course Desert Drinks

Good Morning message

£2.00

Used to show care or start a conversation

How are you? message

£2.25

Used to check on someone's well-being or to start a conversation

Thank You message

£2.50

Used to show gratitude, often after receiving a gift or compliment

Informative Message

£7.00

Used to share information

Request Message

£7.00

Used to ask for assistance, information or a favour

Apology Message

£6.50

Used when you make a mistake, hurt someone's feelings or have a misunderstanding

Congratulatory Message

£8.88

Used to celebrate achievements or positive events

The Denson Special: Announcement Message

£13.00

Used to inform or update people about important events, changes, or news.

Invitation Message

£5.21

Used to invite someone to a gathering

Reminder Message

£5.55

Used to remind someone of a event

Emergency Message

£5.75

Used as a last resort for a direr circumstance

All main courses come with a side of emojis to add that ‘Je ne sais quoi’

OMG £2.50

Short for ‘Oh My God’ and is used to show surprise

LOL £2.55

Short for ‘Laugh Out Loud’ and is used to show joy or laughter

ROFL £2.60

Short for ‘Rolling On the Floor Laughing’ and is used to show joy or laughter It is a more extreme variant of LOL

IDK £2.60

Short for ‘I Don’t Know’ and is used to show confusion or uncertainty

IDC £3.00

Short for ‘I Don’t Care’ and is used when you don’t have an opinion on a particular topic

The Truman show : A metaphor for media

Charlie D11

In 1998, Peter Weir created this film to serve as a metaphor for the culture in which we currently live and to make us contemplate reality as a whole - causing the reader to question if what we experience during everyday life is true; or just part of some grand illusion such as that which Truman uncovers.

The main character, Truman Burbank, was, unbeknownst to him, selected from birth to be the star of the Truman Showa 24/7 reality television programme which used roughly 5000 cameras to capture every single moment of this ordinary man's life.

As the film progresses he rapidly begins to unearth a harsh and bitter truth: that his whole life has been a lie and that he is on the set of a show, in which he has spent the entirety of his life.

At the end of this film, Truman escapes his confines: breaking out of the set to gain freedom

This film has many powerful messages relating to existentialism, mass media becoming reality, existence, personal freedom, fear and conformity - the most potent of which is existentialism: the idea that a person can create purpose or meaning in their lives through their actions. This is aptly demonstrated through the progression of the film - where, although Truman's life is initially controlled by others, he eventually gains personal freedom through escaping Seahaven island.

Furthermore, reality itself is also challenged by the creator of the reality show, Christof, who effectively is God for Truman and who said various phrases about his surreal creation such as "The meaning of life is to give life a meaning", "We accept the reality of the world with which we're presented. It's as simple as that." and "Seahaven is the way the world should be '' . These demonstrate how we can give meaning to our lives; that people often simply accept what they are told and do not challenge them and most importantly it poses a very common philosophical question: do we exist as our entire reality could be an illusion and, such as Truman at the start of the film, we could not know this.

LuxeMessageTM

George D13

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Call us at 020 7432 9842 to book a consultation today with our professional staff, and our courteous and knowledgeable sales representatives will help you select what’s just right for you, and just right for your budget.

Experience the magic of LuxeMessageTM today. Because when it comes to communication, actions speak louder than words

Decoding Timeless Messages: A brief simplification of philosophical ideologies

Ali D12

In the vast expanse of human thought, philosophical ideologies emerge as guiding beacons, each carrying a distinct message that resonates with the human experience and attempts to discover the best way for one to live one’s life In this text, we will step into the realms of existentialism, utilitarianism, hedonism and stoicism and summarise the messages they convey

Firstly, stepping into the world of existentialism, we have a philosophical realm that champions individualism. Jean-Paul Sartre's ideology, akin to a lone wolf's call in the wilderness of existence, emphasises individual freedom and responsibility. It beckons us to sculpt our destinies with the chisel of choice, confronting the daunting reality of our existence and the sullen sentiment that life is meaningless.

On the opposite end, we find the communal embrace of utilitarianism, an ideology that seeks the greatest good for the greatest number. In the utilitarian garden, planted by Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill, the seeds of consequentialism grow, asserting that actions hold value only as long as they contribute to the overall happiness of society. Here, the individual becomes a brushstroke in the grand masterpiece of collective well-being and you are urged to live for others and yourself.

Venturing further, we encounter the stoic principles of ancient wisdom, advocating for resilience and tranquillity Stoicism, timeless as the columns of ancient Athens, encourages acceptance of the inevitable and the cultivation of inner peace as, to supporters of this philosophy, it's not the external events that cause suffering but rather our judgments and reactions to them. Stoics believe in virtue as the source of true happiness and, while not rejecting them outright, urge people to not base their happiness on external goods such as fame or money but mindfully live in the present moment.

In vivid contrast, the vibrant hues of hedonism paint a different canvas, urging us to embrace the pleasures of the moment. The hedonistic message, akin to a lively carnival invitation, celebrates pursuing happiness and avoiding pain. For philosophers like Epicurus, life's purpose lies in pursuing pleasure, a hedonistic melody echoing through the corridors of joy.

As we navigate these philosophical landscapes, the messages of existentialism, utilitarianism, stoicism, and hedonism stand as unique brushstrokes on the canvas of human thought. Each ideology paints a distinct portrait of the human condition, offering varied perspectives on life's purpose, moral nature, and existence's essence

Morse Code recipe

Xavier D7

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 67 ratings

�� Prep: 10 mins Send: 10 mins

Morse code is a code used to send messages via sound or visual signals. It represents letters using sound or flashes of light of two different lengths. Short sounds or flashes are called dots and long sounds or flashes are called dashes. Each letter is represented by a different sequence of long and short sound or visual signals. Morse code is easy to write down since you can write the dots as a period . and the dashes as a dash symbol.

Method:

STEP 1: Write out the message you wish to send to your recipient.

STEP 2: Translate this message into Morse code. For example, an A in Morse code is represented by a dot and a dash. Use a chart for each letter and their Morse code equivalent.

STEP 3: Send the message.

Ingredients:

・ dots

➖ dashes

/ slash (used to represent the end of a word)

See if you can decipher this written Morse code message.

Popular alternatives:

Communicating with sounds, for the letter A you would send a short sound followed by a long sound. Communicating using a flash light, for the letter A it would be a short flash followed by a long flash.

RECIPE TIPS:

When using written communication it is important to use a slash to represent the end of the word

When using sound or light communication it is important to pause before starting the next letter, so the recipient knows it’s a new letter.

Cipher

Louis D10

This cipher, originating from Ancient Rome, was devised by a high-ranking general and utilised by the most eminent emperors. It represents a monoalphabetic method of encoding messages, intended for communication between allied parties or other high-ranking officials. In this system, each letter of the alphabet is shifted forward by three positions, such that A transforms into D, and B into E, with the same rule applying to numbers. This cipher stands as one of the pioneering encryption methods, paving the way for the development of subsequent ciphers. Among these, the Vigenère Cipher, which employs a similar but not identical approach to shifting letters, is notable. Known as the Caesar Cipher, this encryption technique marked a significant milestone in the history of secure communication

Letter found on a bench at Beachy Head Isaac D13

The water writhed under the pier’s planks – an old man’s warped wrinkles desperate to break free. Intermittently, he would spit through the silk veil in whirlpools of froth, forcing out a semblance of escape I kicked in a cigarette stub from the pier and watched the old man absorb it, coughing up a small ripple of emphysema in response It sank I turned around and headed back to the shore The sun tightened my eyes and I dropped my head to my feet as they paced over the rotting planks

The hardened, earth-like concrete wasn’t as fickle as the sea or the planks I turned left and before I knew it, here I was: at the top of the world At the end of it too There was a bench dedicated to someone; I didn’t read the plaque and sat down I lifted my feet off the wind-swept grass and held them out over the horizon They blocked out the sinking sun, the noises of the crowds back on the pier, me The old man remained restless, full of unfinished silence

It's that I hear the loudest, except you can’t scream silence over the cliffs. I’ve been writing it down instead, like a message to myself or to no-one, hoping that the silence will become finished and that I can go, yet here I am, still writing as if I can’t stop, can’t think, can’t speak. I know the moment I stop I’ll still hear that unfinished silence and not know what to do; I don’t know if I can go with unfinished silence ringing in my ears and yet–Breathe. Let me try again.

The stench of tourists’ midday sweat clung to my nostrils. It cocooned me against isolation while inevitably reminding me of it: prison bars mocking the wakeful convict.

I’m still here, I’m still so bloody tangible, so bloody–

The old man was still a flourished silk handkerchief of skin, wrinkles chopping up and down as it bustled with the wind, but it had calmed now, as if it had accepted its wicked role.

I don’t think this is working; I can still hear my shaky breaths and that silence that’s not quite quiet enough They say you’re supposed to use it as a verb now, like breathing, like listening, but it’s just so much harder, so much–

Except it’s not like breathing; breathing only affects you But you’re not just doing it to yourself, you’re doing it to your environment It’s the sun that would go, not me

The sun sinks into the sea and still I’m squinting This isn’t working I’m going for a walk I’ll be back in five to try writing my note again .

Is subliminal messaging an effective marketing technique? Alex D13

To first answer this question you must ask yourself what subliminal messaging is: a message which has the purpose of embedding itself within your unconscious mind. This is a popular tactic which is used by many different companies to sway your mind into buying their product. As people do not like feeling as if they are being controlled however this has sparked some controversy over the matter due to the debate which arises about control over oneself.

Although there is some natural trepidation towards the topic it does bring about an important question:

Just how effective is subliminal messaging?. Subliminal messaging does steer one's likelihood of purchasing goods; if only in a subtle way - even though there are many famous logos such as Amazon wherein its smile reaching from the a to z implies the numerous goods Amazon sells (everything from a to z in the alphabet). James Vicary and Francis Thayer conducted a study where certain phrases such as "Eat popcorn" and "Drink Coca-Cola" were used subliminally and it concluded that this did have a massive impact on popcorn and Coca-Cola. However, further research carried out by people such as Anthony Pratkanis showed that there is little to no correlation between subliminal messaging and the opinions of people other than if people expected that it would have a large sway on them, in which case it actually could.

Overall subliminal messaging has been demonstrated to be a minimally effective tool even though many people believe it to have the power to completely change people's minds.

From Bird song to Texting Mason 7D

We have moved on from talking through birds to now simply just typing in a few words, By using cellular devices, messaging comes with no payment or prices, No more Pony Express, for now, we use pens & pencils less and less and less, Telegraphs are going out of style, they will likely be gone in a while, Balloon mail is no longer seen, because now we simply stare at our screen, Smoke signals are now only used in emergencies, for there are now no urgencies

It seems that texting is the better option, nothing can stop it being the best, the top one, WhatsApp and Instagram are just more trendy, it looks like the balloons were far too bendy, Tech companies can’t help but smile, As Pony Express is thrown into the never-ending pile, Telegraphs were replaced by telephones but now their successor is mobile phones, Talking via pigeons has slowly died out, but in their place, I’m sure there is no drought,

I think that abbreviations are crazy, I feel they just make people sound lazy, We hardly ever go outside, a 26% obesity increase come on guys!

Sport is the only thing that keeps you going and writing gets creative juices flowing, Meeting up to have conversations is becoming rare and nobody even seems to care.

The plague of judgement Laksh D12

The problem is as follows, Those who are different to make a difference, Are rejected for being different If they aren’t the same, they are to blame Fear is cultivated, aged and seasoned Stirred up, wafted and the aroma infiltrates the millions, Now out of the billions, Why would anybody be themselves?

I Heard It Through The Grapevine Lucas D11

The Source

I confided with trust that this secret stays secret, That I would engage to my love, For I needed this secret to show her my feelings, I hope that you’ll help me along.

The world is as follows, If someone else says it, you should say it, Do what they do and only then you’ll be free to bloom Get a high-paying job and only then you’ll feel happy

You’ll avoid the sharp blade of rejection

Not from the workplace,

From your family, It’s better to be safe than sorry Right?

My message to the world would be as follows, The construct of beauty relies on difference, Nobody is the same, Ponder on that, have gratitude for that Else certainly the whole of humanity is in vain Do what you want to do

I promise you’ll do something amazing Success comes from within, Don’t let anybody fool you How could you lock up an innovator of the future?

The Trustee

Oh, this is fantastic, excellent, brilliant! They’ll be so happy together, Of course I will help him, that’s what mates do, Yet this secret cannot last forever

Oh, he’d be furious, sad, dejected, But surely it couldn’t hurt, If I tell only one, There won’t be much harm, To help relieve me of this burden

A Courier

My wife just told me that she has just heard, From her best friend’s sister’s best friend’s son, That Petey is finally tying the knot, Good on the lad, getting it done

I bet that the kids would be liking to know, And the brother, the Watsons, the milkman and Bert, I’m compelled to be sharing and spreading the news, Surely no-one could get hurt!

The Recipient

A curious message came by today, It read, “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“What?”

“You’re marrying!”

“What?!” I ask Confused, I went home

I showed him the message Baffled, timid, he says, “Yep”. I reply, we’re engaged But couldn’t it have waited ‘til dinner?

Andrew D11

My finger hovers over send…

Millions of thoughts rushed through me, calculating every possibility, every outcome. The majority of them ended in failure, but that's how it always worked.

I back out again, deciding the risk is too great to take, showing myself the weakness that I’ve always known I’d had. Relief fights regret, but neither takes control and I’m stuck in the middle.

I feel the guilt rise up in my throat, it's not that I've done anything, it's just the chronic melancholy that's rising over me, casting a shadow over me, and following every step I take. It attacks me leaving me with no emotions to feel but sadness, made worse by the knowing that whilst I have tossed and turned, she has continued, completely unaware of the unhealthy train wreck I have become, the destruction she has left in my mind.

I stumble over to a mirror, soulless, still broken. Staring straight at myself, I look deep into my eyes, past the flowing ocean blue, into the black pit. Immediately, I become lost, lost in imagination of how I would feel if she said yes, lost in every outcome as I have been so many times before, lost in the reflective blackness of my eyes. Thoughts arise once again, What's the worst that could happen? Upon deciding it's probably best not to answer, I conclude I should try again: hopefully for the last time.

With renewed bravery, I march to my phone, a soldier entering battle, knowing this could be the last time he does so. Now determined to at least give myself a chance, I pick up the flashing device. I had to do it now, if I did it, it would be now. I felt like a sprinter closing in on the finishing line, and I opened the app.

Hiya, I really enjoyed it when we were hanging out last week. I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner with me one time?

This was it, I was at the line, all I had to do was cross and then I would have a chance at that medal. I read through one more time. I’m ready. All I have to do is click send.

Suddenly, I think she’s going to say no.

My finger hovers over send…

To You:

Leo D11

a.) To the past:

How did it feel to breathe Without the looming threat of GCSEs? What was it like to enjoy A life of relative ease?

No revision, a chance to play the game of innocence, wasting the day, Bored, but never disinterested. Happy, but not fulfilled.

b.) To the present:

Just remember to breathe. Work hard, Work smart, It will all be over soon.

c.) To the future:

Here is my message, a devotion, clarity in a world of obfuscating darknessGCSEs may be over, the impending threat of results day creeping closer… and closer… and closer… and closer… from the hidden, dark, shadowy swamps A date ingrained deep inside my brain.

We may think it is over, but it would've only just begun, A mix of college and A levels, an expansive, unexplored life awaits, steaming and smoking, a flare from the barrel of a smoking gun, as if blank, white, ready to be tainted by the ink of a pen.

Treasure

Izaan D7

A furled roll of brown paper in a bottle of smooth, glossy wet glass. A dampened cork lid tightly seals the papyrus sheet inside. I open it with my blackened, dirty teeth after, possibly, years of not cleaning them. It appears to be a tattered, slightly moist, parchment scroll, with a neat, almost velvety ribbon, but not a single word inscribed on it. Suddenly, as quick as a water droplet disappears into the endless waves, a decently sized bird’s feather, drenched in ink at the tip, appears in my hand. I know not of the means of its materialisation, nor of where it came from, but I needn't question it, since stranger things have happened, or at least that I can remember. I’ve been on this tiny, sandy island so long now, that even this quant and foolish little message, that I know no one will stumble upon in my fleeting lifetime, feels like a tangible treasure to me.

Don't Shoot The Messenger Max D7

Boom! The thunder of cannonfire shook the battlefield as the soldiers fought, but behind the scenes there was a man, with different orders to the rest. He sped away from the battlefield, bolt pistol in one hand, message in the other. Dodging shot after shot, leaping rock after rock. He saw a tyranid behind the treeline, and he fired a shot into it. The heretical creature fell back dead, and the messenger kept on running. Running, running, running, running Running overhill and running underhill, through caves, and around lakes. Until he finally arrived at the fortress, Il Alhad dȗr. He was allowed inside and ran up to the lord, who took the bolt pistol from his hand, and held it to the messenger’s. Head, he readied his finger on the trigger, and as he did, an apothecary realised the armor that hid beneath the messenger’s clothes was that of his own. And so forth he yelled, “Don’t

shoot the messenger!”

But it was all but too late

I don’t understand the message.

Myles D10

We’re in a shop and my mum is pointing to a painting and telling my dad that it speaks to her. My dad says, “The only thing that speaks to me about it is the price and it’s way too Expensive.” “It’s not about the money, it's what it means,” she says. Dad says, “What are you talking about? There is no meaning, it’s a picture of the sea with waves and rocks.”

“So you don’t love it?” Mum asks

“Not really It’s ok It could be anywhere in the world ” Mum says that it couldn’t be because they sky looks like it could rain and there are places by the sea where it doesn’t rain Dad says he doesn’t care This is what my parents do They have what’s called heated discussions which is basically a way of saying they are arguing. They do this all the time and my brother and I are so used to it now that it doesn’t bother us anymore. My younger brother says that as long as he gets money for the fair every year he doesn’t care because the prices for the rides at the fair are stupidly expensive.

It’s the hottest day of our holiday and we’re in this shop. We’ve got all our beach gear with us and my brother and I are standing watching them. My arms are aching, holding everything. “You don’t understand,” Mum says. Dad tells her she’s reading into everything and he can spot a con when he sees one. That’s how it goes. They’re whispering which is a dangerous thing to do because whispering is loud. For the rest of the afternoon we don’t really speak together as a family. If Mum and Dad aren’t talking to each other then it makes a difference to me and my brother. I don’t feel I can mess around on the beach so I bodyboard instead. Mum goes to sleep and Dad goes for a long walk and Mum starts to wonder where he is. I love being in the sea for ages so I don’t come out until I have to, which is when the lifeguards shout out that they’re going for the day. We all pack up and my mum finds a message on her phone from Dad that he’s not coming back to the beach She looks upset “We’re on a family holiday and she’s gone off and done his own thing,” she says She throws the towels in a bag and dumps the bottles of sun cream on top of them

We climb the stone steps to get to the road and walk home very slowly Dad opens the door and Mum doesn’t smile and stares at the doorstep. Mum goes straight to the kitchen and makes a cup of tea but she doesn’t ask me if I want one too. Dad’s sitting on the sofa like he’s waiting for her to come in and sit down.

My brother and I are pretending not to look. Mum says that she’s going to sit in the garden and get the last of the sun for the day. She says it out loud but I don’t think we’re meant to join her.

Eventually Dad gets up. He huffs and puffs and tells us to tell her that he’s going out. My brother looks at me like I’m meant to stop him but I don’t think we are. We tell Mum and She shrugs and comes inside, sits where Dad was sitting on the sofa. There’s a large paper bag on it and she looks inside it and finds the picture she liked from earlier. I can’t believe it. I don’t understand why he bought it for her in the end if he didn’t like it.

There and back again Jack D8

Dear Diary,

I woke up to the poking and prodding of my master’s ‘wakey wakey stick’ as I like to call it and knew something was off He opened my cage door and grasped my nape with his distorted, scared hand and suddenly the great thought came to me Just to complement this assumption, he had a crumpled letter in his opposite paw I was finally taking part in something important As my ancestors before me, I will fly to the country France, our closest alliance in the war, and deliver an informative message from our nation to theirs At last I am not just a pigeon, I am now an English carrier pigeon!

Before I knew it, I was in the air, flying South East past the small villages of Buckinghamshire and towards the great city of London. The smell hit me before I saw anything. The horrible odour of polluted air steaming out of chimneys of vast magnitudes that were stationed above the great factories of the city hit my nostrils with such force that I was almost knocked straight out of the great blue abyss. But as soon as I was out of the frying pan, I was straight into the fire! Shrieks that stop hearts from beating could be heard up ahead around cloud passingly tall buildings signalling only one thing. Predators.

A pair of peregrine falcons loomed up ahead, their devilish eyes fixed on my presence. As they took to the skies, my eyes scoured the landscape for a place of salvation and finally - a small park. I dove, twisting and turning to misdirect my pursuers’ target. At last the refuse of the busy ground turned the falcons back to where they came from, scared to face the dangers of the city floor. I had escaped. With a small letter on my ankle and the weight of the country on my back, I was forced to pursue my adventure once again. Although taking to the lower levels of air space held more traffic, it came with a vital advantage - safety.

At last I reached the coast of the far East of Sussex and ahead - a mighty, unforgiving expanse of water lay awaiting my demise I powered on into this new danger after a small sit above an out-of-use ice cream van to regain some stamina for the new obstacle that provided no stops for over twenty miles A while into the great flight, an immeasurable cloud loomed over me, its content obvious from its dark grey colouring giving a melancholy mood to the ever worsening situation The journey was rough to say the least, testing the years of training I wish I had The rain, sleet, wind; just as I was about to collapse it all vanished Finally, the torture I had endured was over France. You wouldn't think so, though. The coastal town named Sainte-Cécile Plage offered the same image as that of your usual English coastal town. Anyway, I pushed on.

As I advanced further into the nation, the civilised, clean aspect of these towns grew smaller. Suddenly it was abruptly clear that this place was home to war! Abandoned trenches, destroyed houses and even muddy fields of barbed wire and horrible remains. I seemed to be the only source of life around here, I felt as if I was the last on Earth.

BANG BANG BANG

The sound of constant explosions filled my ears. War was close. Or so I thought. The sound increased for miles as I travelled. The sound had travelled an age to reach my almost bleeding ears. The ringing in the little holes in my head didn’t stop until I had arrived. The journey was now a blur of sounds, thoughts and sights.

I arrived at the great city of Paris late, two days after my departure and found my way to a large, protected building in the heart of the city and was at the doorstep to my life’s journey, to my adventure for my country. I flew through the great doors and perched on a desk as the letter that held all the adventures I had had was taken away.

I had done it! It was over!

These words now sound like that of a fool The great man returned with another letter Before he rolled it up, I managed to make out the word ‘OK’ at the top of the page accompanied by a blank space of paper He strapped this letter to my leg and ushered me off again I couldn’t believe what had just happened to me After enduring more terror than any other and seeing sights that would have put some off of life itself, I had to make this treacherous journey AGAIN!

Whispers from the Past Jaskirat D7

My hands shivered as I held the forgotten letter that we had buried in the sand on the beach several years ago. It was amazing that just a normal piece of paper we had planted in a bottle, cliche as it may sound, was all that I had left. I know she was ecstatic that day which made this moment even more special and emotional, and the tragedy that had revealed itself even more painful. Sorrow had spread all over my cheek as I unravel a mystery, and I could not help but feel such a burning sensation in my chest and endless pit in my heart.

To my shock, the letter in the bottle displayed a important message that read:

‘‘I am alive Follow the signs Find me ’’ I stood in awe and confusion, staring at the piece of paper as it was alive Wondering what it meant and was this a kind of joke? At that moment, the wind had died, and the waves fell quiet It was as if the ocean was responding to me A path in the sand led me off the beach and into the forest

A wave of emotions came over me as I continued my way forward ‘‘Is she really alive,’’ I muttered sorrowfully to myself

The accident happened 9 months ago, and my life had spiralled out of control She was the glue in my life and was taken suddenly, disappearing and leaving me in pieces But now, what seemed like a dream, was an opportunity to see her again

The trees in the forest stood towering and daunting. There was no path but somehow my feet knew the way. The wind guided me and the leaves blew ferociously towards my destination.

I came to the edge of the dim forest and my heart skipped a beat. The sun shone directly at a sp where the girl lay motionless.

The First Letter

Rishabh D10

A humid breeze swirled over the puddle ridden soil of the forest floor, barren shrubs waving n the draught.

Moments later, Florence gasped for breath as she tumbled and rushed from the seething, outraged mass of growls and yellow, piercing eyes. She fell forward as she tripped on a tree root, stumbling into a puddle, before picking herself up and, barely regaining her balance, next, continued to run. After what had seemed like an eternity, she saw the smoke of some isolated village she didn’t know of, and darted between a low thorny shrub and a spindly, narrow seedling of a tree, scraping her shoulder on the rough brown bark She winced and glanced at the blood starting to form, but there was nothing she could do about it

‘All I need is some kind of shelter and everything will be fine’, she thought, hoping it was true

Getting to the last of her stamina, she finally reached the clearing of huts She dashed instantly to the first house she saw and knocked against the door, when, suddenly, the rickety door was opened by an old woman, who exclaimed in excitement and hushed her in like lightning, slamming the door and pushing a minute cabinet against it

Scratching on the door immediately proceeded, only to fade. The ancient woman stiffly hoisted up a box of important documents, from which she took a paper and displayed the amber number 1 on the back. ‘I got the letter you sent!’, she eagerly declared in a raspy, yet light-hearted voice . Florence’s relief of no longer being chased suddenly transformed into a long daze, followed by shock. She hesitated before stuttering, ‘I… I didn’t send a letter…’.

Closing the antiquated box, the woman stared in disbelief. She apprehensively took the letter out from the box, checking it once more before handing it to the now childish looking girl. Mortified, she tentatively held it, as she saw, above a smaller text,’This is only the first epistle.’

Omen

Akshajaan D13

There was nothing different about today. Nothing felt different, seemed different. Yet why did he feel so uneasy? He entered the office, greeted by the same miserable faces, same tedious paperwork, same endless torture, but yet it was not the same. He shook his head unbothered, leaving the feeling of fear, instead opening to the mountain of work that faced him.

Minutes turned to hours, until at last it was over. Work was over. The split second of relief slowly exasperated, turning to the same unease and fear, working its way around his body. Something was wrong. He racked his brain, his spiralling thoughts to anything he might have missed, might have forgotten, but nothing dawned on him. It was a normal day. He left the office, pushing the very thoughts to the back of his mind, stomach churning with concern.

Walking through the evening hustle seemed to soothe his restless mind even slightly as he pushed himself through the crowds of families, lost in their own little worlds. He glanced up at the distant sunset, a portrait of beauty. Everything was calm.

It was then a sickening wave of nausea enveloped him, the heavy feeling of fear had returned, almost casting a peculiar shadow in front of him. He glanced up, realising it was not just a peculiar shadow, a bird of some sort. Curious he watched as it circled around him, moving neither closer or further away, just enveloping him as if he was some sort of prey.

As he continued to move, the bird seemed to follow, each step bringing a fresh wave of unease. He quickened his pace, heart racing, yet his speed was mirrored by the bird, which was not only following alongside him but echoing his fear with its own shrieks, almost as if it was signalling to him, warning him.

He started to sprint, desperate to lose this creature tailing him, screeching at him, scaring him. Moving blindly, attempting to shake it off his direction, focussing on nothing but the monster tailing him. The screeches grew louder, and louder, almost telling him to turn back, however he was determined to win, to lose it.

As he looked back, the shrieks continued to follow, however now falling behind, almost distant. He spun round in triumph, to be blinded by a flash of light, followed by a screech of tires. It went black, the scene only pierced by the shrieks, the shrieks of the bird.

Silence

Baxter D8

Waiting

Silence calls, telling me all I need to know, but not what I want to

Time goes on, I go on; but I hear no answer Only Silence.

Time passes, quickly or slowly, I do not know But what I can count upon is silence.

I know I would have received it by now; But I can't wait, I have to go on.

The silence engulfs me completely, my mind is gone I’m unsure what to do but the beckoning comes, forcing me forwards through this barren wasteland.

It surrounds me, It is so terrible, it’s like like nothing, It’s all there has been, all there is, All I’ve known since it happened Since the destruction landed and I was left alone.

And still I wait…

I know they will tell me.

I know I will complete my mission, our mission.

I have to, to stop my fate becoming the fate of the world.

But until they tell me what I have to do, until my message comes through; Whatever it is, I have nothing I can do but wait.

Tidal Message

Vaishnav D8

Upon the shore where destiny has cast them bound,

Two fatigued souls, their spirits worn and frail, Their homeland distant, within the foe's furious vail, However trust holds on, a far off reference point found.

A bottle, bearing news of critical need, Their compatriots in danger, beneath siege, A supplication for help, their hearts with fear besiege, Their hands are tied, their mission must succeed.

But stranded they stay, upon this isle, Their country's destiny held in that shiny tome, To spare their kinfolk, to break oppression's hold, However storms may seethe, and waves may furiously pile,

Will fortune grin upon these souls alone?

Or will their story stay until the end of time untold?

My Rose Ruben D12

The roots of the rose encircle my heart; I am afraid if I uproot it, My heart will be wrenched out. It would not be the roses fault, After all, I planted it.

As I begin to pry away at the earthy tendrils, A singular scarlet petal spirals to the floor. The sweetness of the rose begins to fade and so I stop.

Is it better to let the rose drain my heart for all it’s worth, Or see it wither and die?

I make my choice and make it clear.

“Till death do us part” with you, my dear. And so I lay there unperturbed Fixated on the thing I don’t deserve.

The rose feeds itself on my life’s essence, In return my eyes feed me, with its image, A mutualistic cycle of beauty and death. When I eventually become drained of all I am, I will not be sad. For I did so intertwined with you.

M E S S A G E S