Probably the Best Song Ever...

Hatredcopter by Dethlok

I fly hatrocoptic monster,

I am captain,

evil stomper,

I get to wear big black helmet,

I pilot the hatredcopter!

I fly the beast made of steel,

Tin monster,

crumple light,

Gas tank is filled with vengeance,

Machine that you despite,

Can't find the thing that makes this,

Thing take a hard turn right,

I follow where it leads me,

Prepare to greet our might,

You, will most likely die,By the hands of my arm,

When I come and fly,

And take over your face,

With the front of my hatredcopter,

(scream)

I fly hatrocoptic monster,

I am captain,

evil stomper,

I get to wear big black helmet,

I pilot the hatredcopter!

I fly the hatredcopter,

I'm going to hunt you down,

I came with lots of money,

For all the monkeys paw,

Can't seem to find the button,

That turns the radio off on,

Can't work the hatredcopter,

I'm hoping you respond,

I, am likely to find,

From my fears that you'll fly,

That I will be fired for not killing you,

Cause that is my job,

Hatredcopter,You, will most likely die,By the hands of my arm,When I come and fly,

And take over your face,

With the front of my hatredcopter,

(guitar solo)

Hatredcoptor (x 8)

Race

Have you ever felt completely out of place because of your race or gender? Or maybe just because you didn't know anybody? I'm sure we all have.

When I was 12 I went to visit my cousins down in Memphis for a few weeks during the summer. One day, My aunt decided that they were going to take me downtown to get the full experience of Memphis and how cool it was since I had never been there.

Now, those of you who know, I am superrrr white, like, even pasty sometimes. And Memphis...well Tennessee in general, is dominately black. That's just how it is, not a big deal.

My aunt thought it would be cool if we took the trolly around downtown, which seemed cool because I had never been on a trolly. So as soon as we get on the trolly it's very obvious that we are the only white people on the thing. We stood out worse then a sore thumb, I kid you not.

There wasn't even anywhere to sit so we had to stand in the middle of so many black people who I could feel judging me, it was very uncomfortable...

But it was soon okay because then two Asian got on who looked ridiculously more out of place then us. The safari hat, the palm Hawaiian t-shirt, the fannypack..."HI! We're from Springfield!"

It was hilarious then, but still slightly uncomfortable because I knew I couldn't laugh. =)

My Take On "Wasted"

Wasted By Cartel:

http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/cartel/wasted.html

So this was Lindsey's Cool Writing Project, and I just thought that there was more depth then what was said.

Now Lindsey thought that this was just one story about one man's life in particular, which could be extremely true, but I was thinking something different.

It seems to me that the first verse is about three different people. Each one gets their lives taken way so quickly that it doesn't seem fair in any way. Each person had so much going for them and then their precious life is taken so unfairly from them each.

Then the chorus that we're all so wasted explains how their lives were wasted because they could've accomplished so much more.

The second verse is about three people who are similar to the first three, but they aren't the same.

They have their lives but aren't happy with their lives. Either they're being treated unfairly, aren't being noticed/appreciated, or are just simply unhappy.

The chorus wasted proves the point that these people are getting cheated out of happiness which is making them waste important parts of their life.

The third verse is different to me. The first stanza refers back to the 7 year old, the second stanza back to the 18 year old who wanted to move out, and the 3rd is the narrator wondering if his life will end up the same.

Overall, I think the term 'wasted' points out that some of us who are given the gift of life take it for granted. Some people don't realize how easily bad things can happen to you, just like the people in the first verse.

This song is sad, but don't let it be the theme of your life!

Don't take life for granted or you'll waste it.

:D

Censorship?

So yes, we have been talking about censorship this past week.

In class, we got into groups and were asked whether or not we supported it. Some said absolutely not and some said censorship is okay to some extent. But nobody said they agreed with it.

Can you imagine book burnings? What if our government censored everything they believed deemable to censorship? Would they censor something like Twilight, or the Bible. Think about how crazy that would be!

It makes me think of this book, Fahrenheit 451. The book was all about censorship by the government, and the ironic part about it was that during the time the book was written, it was actually censored...hahahaha...sorry, that's so ridiculous!

I think censorship can be good...to an extent, like the majority of the class. Even though it really is up to the parents to make sure their kids are sheltered from scarring things such as Janet Jackson's boob, those things also come out of no where and surprise us.

When I was little we didn't have cable, and for a while we didn't even have a tv. I very much enjoyed playing outside and forcing my older brother to play Barbies with me and don't think that I missed out on anything.

So when it comes to censorship, please keep your nudity, over the top language, and extreme gore off of cable tv...but please don't take away our books or resources available to the public.

Thank you!

Absurdist Moment with Aleesha

Weird!

So the day after Thanksgiving my family went out to dinner for my grandparents anniversary. My younger sister and I drove with our aunt and uncle and my parents drove with our grandparents.
We went to a nice Italian restuarant and everything was just fantastic.

When we were all done stuffing ourselves with over-priced, Americanized Italian food, we said our goodbyes and started heading back to the car.

I guess my sister and I weren't paying very close attention. We walked ahead of our uncle and were about to get in the car, he had his keys out like he had clicked the button and opened the doors for us so we got in. When he tried opening the driver's side door, though, it wouldn't open. He thought his unlock button just wasn't working.

My sister and I were already to go and sitting in the car waiting for our aunt when it's taking abnormally long for them to get in...my aunt starts walking away from the car and my unlce follows. Suddenly my sister asks, "Are we in the wrong car?" I said, "Of course not! That's crazy!"

Well...we were! It was so ironic. We jumped out and slammed the doors behind us, we were pretty freaked out.

It was just so strange that the car we chose to go to happened to be unlocked and only the back doors too. My unlce even thought it was the right car until my aunt came along. We just couldn't get over the fact of how perfectly the car led us on. It was so strange.

The Painful Metamorphosis

And so I missed several more days of College Literature...dang colds!

FYI: Parts of this story is fiction and parts are non-fiction. It's a mixture of a story I decided to write and a little about my personal life.

The Painful Metamorphosis

It was a rainy afternoon and the cool air felt calming against the features of my face. The weather, this was expected, but what just happened, well, I had no idea.

"What am I even doing here!" I yelled as hot tears rolled down my cheeks and stung my eyes. I was not prepared for this, above all things, not this.

You know in movies, romances specifically, the main characters fall in love after knowing each other for what seems like five minutes? Did you ever think about them falling out of love, how long that would take? I never thought of it either, until now.

Love. Truly loving someone. This was not something you could flip on and off as easily as a light switch. No. This was something else and I knew it far too well.

I threw a stone into the ocean. Stupid stone. Oh what I would give to be that stone and not have feelings or emotions. Sometimes I'm such a typical girl, so predictably emotional.

There was something new with this end. The pain. Not just emotional, but physical. I suddenly felt like a different person. I felt like I had to hold myself together or else I'd fall apart, it hurt more badly than any injury I'd ever had in my life.

It would be so much easier if he hadn't changed. This whole thing? Not my fault. Honestly, just two days ago things were the same, he was the same. How can one person change so dramatically in such a short time?

"I need a break from this relationship," I had said to him.
"How about an end..." His response had shot a surge of surprise and pain through my body.

And that was it. No questions asked, just anger and tears. I only needed a break because of the way he treated me that day, I thought it would be like any other fight. I'd cry, he'd say he wanted to do whatever he could to keep me and make me happy again, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Now look where I am. A mess. How did this happen? Two different people who were so close and so in love, truly, for so long, suddenly so different. I am not okay with change and this was so swift and so intense...

I was standing by the ocean, on the rocks. It was my escape, I was in complete solitude. The sound of the waves echoed with my thoughts. I screamed into the sky as if it would answer me or at least take away the pain.

Who was I? I just lost everything I had ever felt connected to. Part of me was gone, was I ever going to get that part back? Even if this end was good or maybe right for me, was it really what I needed?

I sat on the rocks for hours crying until the only water left on my face was from the continuous rain which was now pouring out of the sky. My heart was completely broken, not just in two, but into several million tiny pieces that didn't actually belong to me. They had belonged to him. And now that they were shattered, where did they belong?

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know why nobody told you
how to unfold you love
I don't know how someone controlled you
they bought and sold you

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know how you were diverted
you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
no one alerted you

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently weeps

This was the text that I chose for my close reading.

First of all, I would like to apologize to Mr. Kunkle, you were right, George Harrison sang it, I was very wrong and am quite ashamed.

Also, if you haven't heard the song you should! Go to YouTube, I don't know how to be cool and add a hyperlink like some people, and I apologize. I also recommend highly that you hear the new version from the movie Across the Universe, it's very amazing.

So what the heck does this song mean? I'm sure if our generation weren't so shallow when it came to song lyrics these days we'd be able to pick it apart and come up with all sorts of creative ideas about it...but that's difficult now-a-days.

My interpretation of The Beatles' words:

George Harrison's guitar is weeping, quite figuratively. He finds himself consumed with such mundane tasks as sweeping the floor as mentioned above in the lyrics. Unfortunately, he's constantly having to do other things rather than play his guitar, which is his favorite thing to do.

This seems like an allegory for society to me! That men are constantly putting their passions and ambitions aside to find security in a mediocre, depressing job.

George Harrison is observing the world around him and "I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping" notices so much potential that's "sleeping" because people are settling for promise of security.

He doesn't understand why more people don't express themselves as freely as they'd like to when he says, "I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love, I don't know how someone controlled you they bought and sold you" as if people are only tools to their society. Being controlled and used, and as he notices this his guitar continues to weep. Maybe George Harrison is weeping too.

Metamorphosis...Whatever This Is!

Yes, those were Hilary Duff lyrics added on to the title of Kafka's book, Metamorphosis.
But it's only because the first chapter had me in a such a state, that the lyrics fit my reaction!

Gregor wakes up to find he's a monstrous insect? And what does he do about it, he worries that he'll be late to work. So...if he's so disinterested in the fact that he's suddenly not human, and some sort of ridiculous transformation (metamorphosis) has happened to his body over night, then he can't possibly truly be a dang beetle!

But in truth, he actually turned into a bug. This is not metaphorical, it's real kids. But why on earth would he wake up as a beetle? Beats me.

If I were to wake up as something...I'd want to be a black panther. Heck yes. No way would I be an insect, gross dude. I'm thinking a snow leopard would be pretty sweet as well, perhaps any type of large cat I'd be cool with.

But if I could think of ONE thing I WOULDN'T want to be...it would be a beetle/insect, sorry Gregor =(.

I Was Absent...

So last week, I was absent from school Wed-Fri. Mr. Kunkle informed me that I had to write either 3 make-up free write journals or 3 make-up blog posts. So, I wrote 1 FWJ and decided that I prefer blogging.

While I was away, I read the short story assigned to the class, A Clean Well Lighted Place by Earnest Hemingway. I had actually never read anything by him and have always been curious since he is so famous, and was excited (weird!) to read this short story.

Effect. I really liked it.

Overview. An 80 year-old well-off deaf man sits in the same bar every night and gets drunk until they will no longer serve him brandy. There are two waiters working this particular night, one is older and the other young.

What it do? There was so much I liked about it! First off, I would like to point out the potential symbolism I saw in the personalities of the waiters. The young waiter just wanted the old man to leave because it was 2 am and he had a wife at home waiting for him. He had no respect for the man and looked down on him as if he was a disgrace. Why would he be drinking so much every night if he was rich? He should be happy, that's what the younger waiter thought. The older waiter, however, had more grace for the old man. He seemed to know where his intentions were at and was much more accepting towards the man's life style. He almost pitied him. One must wonder if perhaps the older waiter knows something the younger does not? Perhaps there's a deep and sad story behind the man's life. In the story, he says to the younger waiter, "he had a wife too once..." this makes you think, where is she now? Dead?

How lonely it is to be old. To just want to go somewhere else other than your home where memories fester, good and bad. Where they taunt you about your age and your past. I believe this man just wanted a "clean well lighted place" where he felt he didn't need to be anyone different than the person he wanted to be in that very moment.

The line, "The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity," makes the reader pity the man, and almost feel where he's coming from, in just one line, I felt respect for the old, deaf man. If you didn't, read it again! =)

First blog post!

Hello Internet world, this is my first blog.

I recently read a short story for my College Literature class called Every Little Hurricane.
I thought that it was written very well and the description and symbolism was very concise.
It was a sad story, though, unfortunately. Even though it was sad, it was a good read. Which is surprising because normally I tend to stray away from sad stories so not too become sad myself.

The story was about a very young Indian boy's life. His family was very poor and his parents were alcoholics. The point of view was 3rd person and usually during a drinking party that Victor's, the boy, parents are throwing. The title, Every Little Hurricane, referrs to all the events that take place that Victor considers as storms, or hurricanes. Whether it's his two uncles fighting until near death, somebody passing out, yelling in the house, or any other event that takes place while all the adults are under the influence, Victor cannot get to sleep. He watches and cries.

Thinking about the young boy who is mentioned to be only about 5 years old, I can imagine how hurt will flood his life as he grows up. I can't imagine myself, though, having to grow up in this environment, this makes me empathetic for this fictional character.

As I mentioned before, the symbolism and decriptions are outstanding. So once you look past the sorrow and pain filled words you can then appreciate the author's writing much more.