I was still exploring the strange place I was in when I felt a tap on my back. Immediately I turned around, hoping that maybe I was just sleeping and my mother was trying to wake me up. What I saw made me believe even more that I was not longer at my house. Behind me was a woman wearing a yellow and black outfit.
“Hi,” she said in a chipper tone. I didn’t reply; I just continued to stare at her. Ignoring my perplexed expression, the woman continued to talk. “I’m the Home Appliance Regulated Protection. My job is to protect all the appliances in your home.” She stuck out her hand and I shook it cautiously. “But you can call me HARP.”
“It’s nice to meet you Harp.” I said, coming to the conclusion that the woman was not going to hurt me. “I’ve never heard of you before.”
“That’s because I haven’t been working for a while. Not since...the Virus took over Cyberspace.” She gulped nervously and I noticed her Adam’s apple bob up and down. She quickly composed herself and the friendly smile returned to her face. “I’ve never heard of you before.”
“I’m Jack.” I said as I let out a sigh. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here. I was sold a laptop by a strange man and when I got home I was sucked into it.” I crossed my arms and pursed my lips at how ridiculous my story sounded.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Said Harp in a genuine tone. She patted me on the shoulder, trying to comfort me, but it didn’t work. I was still thinking about how I was going to get home. Suddenly the whole place began to shake viciously as though something big was approaching. “Oh no!” Harp yelled before grabbing on to me. “He’s coming!”
“What!? Who’s coming?” I yelled back. The vibration on the ground- or lack thereof- were becoming more aggressive.
“The Virus!”
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Jack and the Laptop- part 3
My eyes opened abruptly to a strange whooshing sound. Something was flying above me, but I couldn’t really tell what it was. I was lying on my back, so all I could see was the strange bluish- green tinge of the sky. Was it going to rain? I thought to myself. I continued to focus on the sky, not caring of anything else around me. Little white figures were floating above me in straight lines. Some were flying to the left and others the right. Some would even form a spiral in the sky, but they always maintained a straight line. It was only when I stood up and my eyes cleared that
I realized what they really were. They were envelopes. Envelopes were flying above me. Each one of them had different names on them; e-mail for John McKenzie. I raised my shaking hands to my eyes and rubbed them viciously, wondering if this was all a dream. I then looked down and noticed that instead of standing on a solid floor, I was hovering just like the billions of letters above me. Suddenly, one of the letters separated from the line and drifted down towards me. I quickly stretched out my hand and caught it in mid air. Once it was in my hands it opened automatically and read: Hey kid. How’s the lap top working out?
I immediately knew it was the creepy man from the store. Where did her go? Where was he? Where was I? I thought about the last question for a moment and came across the only plausible answer. I was in cyber space. Where e-mails, videos and songs were sent all around the globe.
Still in disbelief about everything that was going on, I began to walk- more like fly- through cyber space. Around me were e-mails, video files and music files zooming away into the distance. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up coming out of someone else’s computer. I tried hard to remember exactly where I had appeared then continued to explore the area. It was so chaotic.
I realized what they really were. They were envelopes. Envelopes were flying above me. Each one of them had different names on them; e-mail for John McKenzie. I raised my shaking hands to my eyes and rubbed them viciously, wondering if this was all a dream. I then looked down and noticed that instead of standing on a solid floor, I was hovering just like the billions of letters above me. Suddenly, one of the letters separated from the line and drifted down towards me. I quickly stretched out my hand and caught it in mid air. Once it was in my hands it opened automatically and read: Hey kid. How’s the lap top working out?
I immediately knew it was the creepy man from the store. Where did her go? Where was he? Where was I? I thought about the last question for a moment and came across the only plausible answer. I was in cyber space. Where e-mails, videos and songs were sent all around the globe.
Still in disbelief about everything that was going on, I began to walk- more like fly- through cyber space. Around me were e-mails, video files and music files zooming away into the distance. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up coming out of someone else’s computer. I tried hard to remember exactly where I had appeared then continued to explore the area. It was so chaotic.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Jack and the Laptop- part 2
I jubilantly ran home, anticipating my mother’s excited expression when I showed her the lap top. Oh boy, was I wrong. My mother was furious. When I first arrived home she was waiting for me, an expression of relief on her weary face once she noticed the bag in my hands. I took the front steps two by two then took out the lap top, only to watch my mother’s happy expression fall immediately. After being yelled at and being called “irresponsible”, she made me go back to the store and return the lap top. Aware that my mother was extremely furious, I didn’t argue and quickly made my way back to the market. However, once I got there, the small store where I had purchased the lap top was closed down. Newspapers covered the walls and the cashier was no where to be seen.
“Great!” I mumbled to my self sarcastically as I turned around to go home. I knew that I would never be able to live this down. My mother would never trust me with money ever again. As I took my walk of shame from the kitchen to my room, I immediately slammed my door shut and tossed the lap top on my desk, not bothering to even turn it on. This would definitely be a restless night. Without a “goodnight” from my mother, I sluggishly shuffled across the hall to the washroom and brushed my teeth before changing into my pajamas and jumping into bed. Thinking about my mother’s disappointed expression when I came home with the lap top ran through my mind all night, preventing me to sleep a wink. When my eyes finally shut, I noticed a bright light coming from my desk. I shot up in my bed and my mouth fell open at the source of the magnificent light. The screen of the laptop, which was still closed, was shining brightly from across the room.
I cautiously approached it, fearing that it would explode or melt or whatever computers did when they were broken. I a swift curse escaped my tight, nervous lips as I thought about the creepy cashier. I sat down on the swiveling chair and lifted the screen, wondering if maybe I could fix the computer myself and sell it to get back the money. As soon as the light was level with my eyes, I could feel my body being aggressively pulled and tugged at.
“Great!” I mumbled to my self sarcastically as I turned around to go home. I knew that I would never be able to live this down. My mother would never trust me with money ever again. As I took my walk of shame from the kitchen to my room, I immediately slammed my door shut and tossed the lap top on my desk, not bothering to even turn it on. This would definitely be a restless night. Without a “goodnight” from my mother, I sluggishly shuffled across the hall to the washroom and brushed my teeth before changing into my pajamas and jumping into bed. Thinking about my mother’s disappointed expression when I came home with the lap top ran through my mind all night, preventing me to sleep a wink. When my eyes finally shut, I noticed a bright light coming from my desk. I shot up in my bed and my mouth fell open at the source of the magnificent light. The screen of the laptop, which was still closed, was shining brightly from across the room.
I cautiously approached it, fearing that it would explode or melt or whatever computers did when they were broken. I a swift curse escaped my tight, nervous lips as I thought about the creepy cashier. I sat down on the swiveling chair and lifted the screen, wondering if maybe I could fix the computer myself and sell it to get back the money. As soon as the light was level with my eyes, I could feel my body being aggressively pulled and tugged at.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Jack and the Laptop- part 1
“Jack, come down here!” called my mother as I sat in my room, trying to do my homework. Any excuse to drop everything was good enough for me so I quickly slammed my book shut and raced down the stairs, only to bump right into her as she waited at the bottom of the steps. She grabbed on to the banister, trying to steady herself, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill. I could feel my mouth fall open in shock so I quickly snapped it shut and reached for the money. My mother, however, was quicker. She wrenched her hand away and a frown occupied her face. “I found this under the couch when I was vacuuming. This is a lot of money; money that could be used for groceries. What with our financial problems, it’s been a while since we had any fresh food in the fridge.” I looked over at the kitchen and cringed when I noticed the small, green refrigerator. I could have sworn it was white when we first bought it. I turned back to her with a perplexed expression.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked and my mother slowly brought the bill in front of my face. Her eyes were sceptical, but she seemed to trust me enough to let it be in my presence.
“I want you to go down to the market and buy food.” She pulled out a white piece of paper from her apron and handed it to me. Scribbled on it in neat, legible writing was bananas, carrots, apples, lettuce and tomatoes. I looked at the paper, then at the money, then at her; bewilderment being my prominent emotion. I couldn’t believe she trusted me with all this money. I was a sixteen year old boy with sports and video games on my mind. She must really think I’m maturing, I thought as I took the money from her hand. “All you have to do is go to the market, get the food and try not to lose the money.” I nodded in understanding as I walked towards the door with a wide smile on my face. I heard her let out a nervous sigh, but I ignored it and made my way down the street.
I took a sharp turn on Leslie Avenue and was shocked when I noticed the dozens of fruit and vegetable stands. Each one had big, bright signs above them. I slowly walked by each one, continuously looking down at the grocery list, when I spotted a small store. I didn’t seem to sell vegetables, but it was right in the center the market so I decided to give it a look. I walked in to the soft jingle of a bell. Immediately, the cashier’s head snapped up towards me. I looked around the room at the hundreds of small trinkets and gadgets that were perched up on glass shelves. I finally stopped when I reached the front counter.
“I’m guessing you don’t sell food here.” I said and the small, skinny man behind the counter smiled a toothless grin. It sent a shiver up my spine, but I didn’t want to leave. The store intrigued me.
“Maybe you’ll be interested in something else.” He said in a hoarse voice. I looked around the room once again, doubting that I would find anything of great value until my gaze stopped at a white laptop on a shelf at the other side of the room. The man’s smile grew wider as he walked towards it and pried it off the shelf. He gently placed it on the counter in front of me. “Do you like computers?” he asked.
“I dunno. I’ve never really had one.” I said without looking away from the laptop. It was so clean and in perfect condition.
“Well, this one is different than all the rest.” The man said and my head shot up in interest. “See, this computer can take you to another world where anything and everything is possible.” I stared at him, wondering if what he was saying was just a scheme to get me to buy the laptop. His wrinkled face was dead serious. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his features. I looked back down at the computer. A laptop would be useful, I thought, it would help us a lot. I shot a look at the grocery list in my hand then shoved it into my pocket.
“How much?” I asked with a sudden determination. The man licked his lips then looked me up and down.
“How much do you have?” I pulled out the bill and he smiled. In one swift motion he pulled it out of my hand and checked it under the light. Obviously satisfied with its authenticity, he shoved it into his pocket and handed me the laptop.
“This better work when I get home.” I said sternly and his smile faded. “If it’s broken I’m coming back here for my money.” The man pursed his lips and nodded before I walked out of the store with the laptop under my arm and a broad smile on my face.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked and my mother slowly brought the bill in front of my face. Her eyes were sceptical, but she seemed to trust me enough to let it be in my presence.
“I want you to go down to the market and buy food.” She pulled out a white piece of paper from her apron and handed it to me. Scribbled on it in neat, legible writing was bananas, carrots, apples, lettuce and tomatoes. I looked at the paper, then at the money, then at her; bewilderment being my prominent emotion. I couldn’t believe she trusted me with all this money. I was a sixteen year old boy with sports and video games on my mind. She must really think I’m maturing, I thought as I took the money from her hand. “All you have to do is go to the market, get the food and try not to lose the money.” I nodded in understanding as I walked towards the door with a wide smile on my face. I heard her let out a nervous sigh, but I ignored it and made my way down the street.
I took a sharp turn on Leslie Avenue and was shocked when I noticed the dozens of fruit and vegetable stands. Each one had big, bright signs above them. I slowly walked by each one, continuously looking down at the grocery list, when I spotted a small store. I didn’t seem to sell vegetables, but it was right in the center the market so I decided to give it a look. I walked in to the soft jingle of a bell. Immediately, the cashier’s head snapped up towards me. I looked around the room at the hundreds of small trinkets and gadgets that were perched up on glass shelves. I finally stopped when I reached the front counter.
“I’m guessing you don’t sell food here.” I said and the small, skinny man behind the counter smiled a toothless grin. It sent a shiver up my spine, but I didn’t want to leave. The store intrigued me.
“Maybe you’ll be interested in something else.” He said in a hoarse voice. I looked around the room once again, doubting that I would find anything of great value until my gaze stopped at a white laptop on a shelf at the other side of the room. The man’s smile grew wider as he walked towards it and pried it off the shelf. He gently placed it on the counter in front of me. “Do you like computers?” he asked.
“I dunno. I’ve never really had one.” I said without looking away from the laptop. It was so clean and in perfect condition.
“Well, this one is different than all the rest.” The man said and my head shot up in interest. “See, this computer can take you to another world where anything and everything is possible.” I stared at him, wondering if what he was saying was just a scheme to get me to buy the laptop. His wrinkled face was dead serious. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his features. I looked back down at the computer. A laptop would be useful, I thought, it would help us a lot. I shot a look at the grocery list in my hand then shoved it into my pocket.
“How much?” I asked with a sudden determination. The man licked his lips then looked me up and down.
“How much do you have?” I pulled out the bill and he smiled. In one swift motion he pulled it out of my hand and checked it under the light. Obviously satisfied with its authenticity, he shoved it into his pocket and handed me the laptop.
“This better work when I get home.” I said sternly and his smile faded. “If it’s broken I’m coming back here for my money.” The man pursed his lips and nodded before I walked out of the store with the laptop under my arm and a broad smile on my face.
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Breathe" lyrics
Age 15+
This is an original piece that I wrote about a year ago. It's not exactly done yet. The purpose of this piece is to show that song writers don't only have to write from what they know or experience. Music is able to take many different forms whether it is in first person or in the representation of someone else.
{Verse}
I finally found a way and I’m never letting go
I found something to believe and a heart of shining gold
If you follow me out I know I’ll have someone to hold
{Hook}
And I’ll hold you close to my heart
For now and if ever apart
{Chorus}
Breathe into the night
Just breathe as he holds you tight
When the clock strikes 12 in the middle of the night
Just breathe... ‘til the morning light
Feeling like I do on any other day
Wont’ be the same, I’m sorry if I’m standing in your way
Now I know I have a reason to tell you what I want to say
And I’ll hold you close to my heart
For now and if ever apart
Breathe into the night
And just breathe as he holds you tight
When the clock strikes 12 in the middle of the night
Just breathe... ‘til the morning light
This is an original piece that I wrote about a year ago. It's not exactly done yet. The purpose of this piece is to show that song writers don't only have to write from what they know or experience. Music is able to take many different forms whether it is in first person or in the representation of someone else.
{Verse}
I finally found a way and I’m never letting go
I found something to believe and a heart of shining gold
If you follow me out I know I’ll have someone to hold
{Hook}
And I’ll hold you close to my heart
For now and if ever apart
{Chorus}
Breathe into the night
Just breathe as he holds you tight
When the clock strikes 12 in the middle of the night
Just breathe... ‘til the morning light
Feeling like I do on any other day
Wont’ be the same, I’m sorry if I’m standing in your way
Now I know I have a reason to tell you what I want to say
And I’ll hold you close to my heart
For now and if ever apart
Breathe into the night
And just breathe as he holds you tight
When the clock strikes 12 in the middle of the night
Just breathe... ‘til the morning light
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
"Build God, Then We'll Talk" by Panic! At The Disco- Review/ Analysis
Ages 15+
The purpose of this piece is to analyze and review an intricately written song and reveal it's true meaning. I also want to show that not all alternative bands are just about sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Panic! At The Disco is known for being a band that puts a lot of thought into their lyrics. That’s an understatement. What many fail to realise is the underlying theme of each one of their songs. In their first album, titled “A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out”, the three hits “Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off”, “But it’s better if you do”, and “I write sins not tragedies” are all interconnected with each other creating a story. This is obvious by how the last few notes in “But it’s better if you do” seem to lead into the beginning of “I write sins not tragedies”. However, the song I will be focusing on and analysing is “Build God, then we’ll talk”, which has a deep meaning when broken into parts (if you haven’t read the lyrics or heard the song I greatly advise it).
One of the main themes in Panic! At The Disco’s songs is religion, but their lyrics are so ambiguous that it is difficult to distinguish the messages that they send. It is clear, however, that the song is about adultery.
It's these substandard motels on the (lalalalala) corner of 4th and Fremont Street. Appealing only because they are just that unappealing
Any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering. The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just a dash of formaldehyde,
And the habit of decomposing right before your very (lalalala) eyes.
You can tell from the first verse that they are describing a series of motels, below normal standard, that are a sight for unethical things. This gives a good opening to the “story” in the song by not only describing the setting, but by illustrating how completely horrible the place is, ultimately making the reader/ listener wonder what exactly makes the motels so horrible.
Along with the people inside
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Tonight tenants range from: a lawyer and a virgin
Accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie
She's getting a job at the firm come Monday.The Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney moonlighting aside, she really needs his money.
Oh, wonderful caricature of intimacy.
The chorus and second verse only aid in the understanding that this song is, in fact, about an adulterous lawyer and a virgin, who was most likely convinced by her boss that she has to sleep around to get ahead in life. However, she is still staying true to God as you can see from the line “accessorizing with the rosary tucked inside her lingerie”. When they say, “A wonderful caricature of intimacy”, they are describing how cheating is contradicting or distorting the true image of intimacy. Intimacy is something that should happen between two people that actually love each other and by the lawyer cheating on his wife he is making the image of intimacy humorous like a caricature would make an image of a normal person humorous.
And not to mention, the constable, and his proposition, for that "virgin"
Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business"as he said to the Mrs.,
only hours before,after he had left, she was fixing her face in a compact.
There was a terrible crash (There was a terrible crash)
Between her and the badge
She spilled her purse and her bag, and held a "purse" of a different kind.
This verse is a little more difficult to analyse. There is speculation that it means the police raided the hotel room after the virgin was finished with the lawyer, who told his wife he was out on business. The “’purse’ of a different kind” refers to a baby in her womb. Other suggestions are that the virgin sleeps with the officer to avoid being arrested. This is probably the most complicated and ambiguously written verse in the entire song.
There are no...
Raindrops on roses and the girls in white dresses
And sleeping with the roaches and taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and before all the stains
And a few more of your least favourite things.
So, in the final verse of the song, Panic! At The Disco is clearly expressing their idea that virtue no longer exists in the overexposed world we live in. “Sleeping with roaches” refers to the virgin sleeping with unworthy men and the “stains” are the stains of regret and remorse. All in all, I think this song shows a lot about our society, but is written in a way that doesn’t just spell the meaning out for us. It requires the reader/listener to think, which is something not many musicians imply with their music.
The purpose of this piece is to analyze and review an intricately written song and reveal it's true meaning. I also want to show that not all alternative bands are just about sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Panic! At The Disco is known for being a band that puts a lot of thought into their lyrics. That’s an understatement. What many fail to realise is the underlying theme of each one of their songs. In their first album, titled “A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out”, the three hits “Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off”, “But it’s better if you do”, and “I write sins not tragedies” are all interconnected with each other creating a story. This is obvious by how the last few notes in “But it’s better if you do” seem to lead into the beginning of “I write sins not tragedies”. However, the song I will be focusing on and analysing is “Build God, then we’ll talk”, which has a deep meaning when broken into parts (if you haven’t read the lyrics or heard the song I greatly advise it).
One of the main themes in Panic! At The Disco’s songs is religion, but their lyrics are so ambiguous that it is difficult to distinguish the messages that they send. It is clear, however, that the song is about adultery.
It's these substandard motels on the (lalalalala) corner of 4th and Fremont Street. Appealing only because they are just that unappealing
Any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering. The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just a dash of formaldehyde,
And the habit of decomposing right before your very (lalalala) eyes.
You can tell from the first verse that they are describing a series of motels, below normal standard, that are a sight for unethical things. This gives a good opening to the “story” in the song by not only describing the setting, but by illustrating how completely horrible the place is, ultimately making the reader/ listener wonder what exactly makes the motels so horrible.
Along with the people inside
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Tonight tenants range from: a lawyer and a virgin
Accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie
She's getting a job at the firm come Monday.The Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney moonlighting aside, she really needs his money.
Oh, wonderful caricature of intimacy.
The chorus and second verse only aid in the understanding that this song is, in fact, about an adulterous lawyer and a virgin, who was most likely convinced by her boss that she has to sleep around to get ahead in life. However, she is still staying true to God as you can see from the line “accessorizing with the rosary tucked inside her lingerie”. When they say, “A wonderful caricature of intimacy”, they are describing how cheating is contradicting or distorting the true image of intimacy. Intimacy is something that should happen between two people that actually love each other and by the lawyer cheating on his wife he is making the image of intimacy humorous like a caricature would make an image of a normal person humorous.
And not to mention, the constable, and his proposition, for that "virgin"
Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business"as he said to the Mrs.,
only hours before,after he had left, she was fixing her face in a compact.
There was a terrible crash (There was a terrible crash)
Between her and the badge
She spilled her purse and her bag, and held a "purse" of a different kind.
This verse is a little more difficult to analyse. There is speculation that it means the police raided the hotel room after the virgin was finished with the lawyer, who told his wife he was out on business. The “’purse’ of a different kind” refers to a baby in her womb. Other suggestions are that the virgin sleeps with the officer to avoid being arrested. This is probably the most complicated and ambiguously written verse in the entire song.
There are no...
Raindrops on roses and the girls in white dresses
And sleeping with the roaches and taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and before all the stains
And a few more of your least favourite things.
So, in the final verse of the song, Panic! At The Disco is clearly expressing their idea that virtue no longer exists in the overexposed world we live in. “Sleeping with roaches” refers to the virgin sleeping with unworthy men and the “stains” are the stains of regret and remorse. All in all, I think this song shows a lot about our society, but is written in a way that doesn’t just spell the meaning out for us. It requires the reader/listener to think, which is something not many musicians imply with their music.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The Escape
Ages 15-19
The purpose of this piece is to show the difficulty that some teenagers have to face in everyday life.
Noah raised his finger to the bottom of his piercing blue eye and wiped away the single tear that had managed to stream down his perfectly sculpted cheek. His right arm, still in unbearable pain from the attack, clung to the side of his body and wrapped itself around his torso. The less motion the better, he thought. Another tear slowly fell down his face as images of his father’s hand colliding with his body entered his mind. The only thing Noah was happy about at this moment was that his father wasn’t there to see him; to see how weak and fragile his seventeen year old son was.
It had been an hour since the fight and he could still hear the faint echoes of his mother and little sister’s screams as he increased his pace. The magnificent lights of downtown were something he didn’t want to see, not when he felt like crawling under a rock and spending the rest of his life as a hermit. His seventeen years of sheer torture had proved his theory correct that people were worthless. He would much rather spend his life alone, fending for himself and being in control. His only regret was leaving his sister behind, but he knew she would be safe. They had always liked her more anyway. He flexed his right arm only to feel pain envelope him.
Noah looked from side to side at the countless people lying on the pavement. Each one of them perking up in excitement when he passed, hoping for some change. He had nothing to offer. The pockets of his jeans had been empty for the past two years with the help of his father’s controlling ways. Maybe he thought Noah would do exactly what he was doing now; run away. God forbid his father didn’t have someone to boss around and use as a punching bag when the liquor cabinet was empty. Noah ran a shaky hand through his dishevelled dark brown hair only to feel the formation of a bump on his skull from when he was tossed against the wall.
The lights seemed to be growing brighter as he continued into the depths of downtown Toronto. Passing police cruisers and car alarms made him more alert that he was abandoning the safety of his home- if it was considered safety- and entering the real world. The world where people died from hunger and prostitutes sold their bodies for money, just to earn enough for shelter. Where underground deals were made between drug dealers and kids like him had nowhere to go except try and survive in a cardboard box near a dumpster. But he didn’t care. In his mind, anywhere was better than his previous home. Just then, a building caught his eye. This building was different than the others; it didn’t have luminescent signs on the roof or posters plastered on the sides. He slowed to a stop, making the cold wind around him more noticeable as it bounced off his porcelain skin. He placed a hand on the brick wall to keep a steady position then looked up at the sign which read: Covenant House. Inside were kids his age, all looking happy; and emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He reached out to grab the handle, but stopped before he could open the door. Doubt and disbelief rushed through him in a wave of emotion. This was too good to be true, he thought. What if this wasn’t the place for him? Then he would surely be set up with some sort of foster agency. That wasn’t what he wanted. He pondered the decision for a moment; weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he tightened his grip on the metal handle and pulled open the door. The heat of the building immediately warmed him as he stepped inside, ready to begin a new chapter in his life.
The purpose of this piece is to show the difficulty that some teenagers have to face in everyday life.
Noah raised his finger to the bottom of his piercing blue eye and wiped away the single tear that had managed to stream down his perfectly sculpted cheek. His right arm, still in unbearable pain from the attack, clung to the side of his body and wrapped itself around his torso. The less motion the better, he thought. Another tear slowly fell down his face as images of his father’s hand colliding with his body entered his mind. The only thing Noah was happy about at this moment was that his father wasn’t there to see him; to see how weak and fragile his seventeen year old son was.
It had been an hour since the fight and he could still hear the faint echoes of his mother and little sister’s screams as he increased his pace. The magnificent lights of downtown were something he didn’t want to see, not when he felt like crawling under a rock and spending the rest of his life as a hermit. His seventeen years of sheer torture had proved his theory correct that people were worthless. He would much rather spend his life alone, fending for himself and being in control. His only regret was leaving his sister behind, but he knew she would be safe. They had always liked her more anyway. He flexed his right arm only to feel pain envelope him.
Noah looked from side to side at the countless people lying on the pavement. Each one of them perking up in excitement when he passed, hoping for some change. He had nothing to offer. The pockets of his jeans had been empty for the past two years with the help of his father’s controlling ways. Maybe he thought Noah would do exactly what he was doing now; run away. God forbid his father didn’t have someone to boss around and use as a punching bag when the liquor cabinet was empty. Noah ran a shaky hand through his dishevelled dark brown hair only to feel the formation of a bump on his skull from when he was tossed against the wall.
The lights seemed to be growing brighter as he continued into the depths of downtown Toronto. Passing police cruisers and car alarms made him more alert that he was abandoning the safety of his home- if it was considered safety- and entering the real world. The world where people died from hunger and prostitutes sold their bodies for money, just to earn enough for shelter. Where underground deals were made between drug dealers and kids like him had nowhere to go except try and survive in a cardboard box near a dumpster. But he didn’t care. In his mind, anywhere was better than his previous home. Just then, a building caught his eye. This building was different than the others; it didn’t have luminescent signs on the roof or posters plastered on the sides. He slowed to a stop, making the cold wind around him more noticeable as it bounced off his porcelain skin. He placed a hand on the brick wall to keep a steady position then looked up at the sign which read: Covenant House. Inside were kids his age, all looking happy; and emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He reached out to grab the handle, but stopped before he could open the door. Doubt and disbelief rushed through him in a wave of emotion. This was too good to be true, he thought. What if this wasn’t the place for him? Then he would surely be set up with some sort of foster agency. That wasn’t what he wanted. He pondered the decision for a moment; weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he tightened his grip on the metal handle and pulled open the door. The heat of the building immediately warmed him as he stepped inside, ready to begin a new chapter in his life.
Friday, May 1, 2009
"The Shining": Does It Really Shine?
Age 18-25
The purpose of this review is to show that just because a book is written by a renowned author, that doesn't make it good. I made that mistake and had to find out the hard way.
With a symbolic, ominous title such as “The Shining”, one would expect to feel paranoia and fear overcome them after reading the novel. On the contrary, “The Shining” was nothing more than a deep description of the dysfunctional characters and less-than- nuclear family, the Torrances. Stephen King- also known for writing “Carrie” (1974) and “Pet Cemetery” (1983) - goes into so much detail about the characters that it detracts from the plot line itself. I would continuously forget that I was reading a horror novel rather than a biography. At points, the background information he gave aided in the understanding of the characters and at others, wasted paper that could have spared the life of a tree.
The basic plot of this novel is about a family moving to an isolated hotel where the recently unemployed father is working as a caretaker. The hotel is haunted by the ghosts of its previous tenants that are out to drag the Torrance family with them into the bowels of the supernatural. King was smart in placing the ghostly encounters throughout the novel to urge the readers to continue, but after a while it became very annoying. I was continuously waiting for something epic to happen, something that would send chills down my spine and deprive me from sleep for weeks, but instead I was constantly let down. Not to mention that his somewhat vulgar descriptions of situations made me cringe... and not in a good way. A scene that was meant to be terrifying turned out to be disgusting.
One of the few things I did enjoy in this novel was the diction and terminology King used amidst his descriptions; words were rarely repeated. That along with the well- thought out character histories were the only things that I truly liked. All in all, I would not recommend this novel for a scary read. Readers will only be let down by its never ending descriptions and continuous switching between view points.
The purpose of this review is to show that just because a book is written by a renowned author, that doesn't make it good. I made that mistake and had to find out the hard way.
With a symbolic, ominous title such as “The Shining”, one would expect to feel paranoia and fear overcome them after reading the novel. On the contrary, “The Shining” was nothing more than a deep description of the dysfunctional characters and less-than- nuclear family, the Torrances. Stephen King- also known for writing “Carrie” (1974) and “Pet Cemetery” (1983) - goes into so much detail about the characters that it detracts from the plot line itself. I would continuously forget that I was reading a horror novel rather than a biography. At points, the background information he gave aided in the understanding of the characters and at others, wasted paper that could have spared the life of a tree.
The basic plot of this novel is about a family moving to an isolated hotel where the recently unemployed father is working as a caretaker. The hotel is haunted by the ghosts of its previous tenants that are out to drag the Torrance family with them into the bowels of the supernatural. King was smart in placing the ghostly encounters throughout the novel to urge the readers to continue, but after a while it became very annoying. I was continuously waiting for something epic to happen, something that would send chills down my spine and deprive me from sleep for weeks, but instead I was constantly let down. Not to mention that his somewhat vulgar descriptions of situations made me cringe... and not in a good way. A scene that was meant to be terrifying turned out to be disgusting.
One of the few things I did enjoy in this novel was the diction and terminology King used amidst his descriptions; words were rarely repeated. That along with the well- thought out character histories were the only things that I truly liked. All in all, I would not recommend this novel for a scary read. Readers will only be let down by its never ending descriptions and continuous switching between view points.
Perez Hilton's Juicy Gossip
www.perezhilton.com
Age 15- 19
The purpose of this review is to show readers there is a certain amount of devotion that goes into reporting the entertainment business...even if it is borderline stalking. Don't judge me. I am not always on this site, I just chose it because I thought no one else would do it.
For someone with completely no life, Perez Hilton is doing well for himself by virtually stalking today’s celebrities and finding out juicy gossip about them. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been on the site once or twice...or a hundred times because along with information on my favourite celebrities, it also has the latest news about other things such as movies, television shows, and politics. Despite his satirical comments and constant bashing of those he does not like, Perez proves to have a lot of information on just one website. The layout of the site, especially the header, is very eye catching and immediately attracts viewers to scroll down the page and see what it has to offer. For example, not only does it talk about Tom Cruise coming out of hiding, Katie Holmes supposed brainwashing and Madonna’s new album; it also talks about the about the swine flu, broadcasted on every television and radio, leaving nobodies ears untouched. The somewhat controversial debate between Miss. California and the gay population is one of Perez’s favourite topics, not to mention making fun of Sara Palin... continuously.
On the left side of the page is a convenient search engine that helps the reader locate who and what they want read about without all the hassle of scrolling through page after page. In the center of the first page there is a small box labelled ‘most emailed’ and ‘most commented’. This is an easier way of seeing what the most popular news of the week is. And let me tell you, Perez Hilton is always on the ball. His page is never tainted with old news; there is always a new picture of a grotesque looking Amy Winehouse or a never before seen poster of the latest fad...Twilight.
The main thing that takes away from the site is the never ending advertisements on each side of the page. On one side there could be an ad for fast and easy weight loss and on the other, a promotional poster for Matthew McConaughey’s new movie. All in all, the site is primarily for those devoted to entertainment news. So, if there are any aspiring entertainment journalists out there, I definitely recommend they take the time to look at this page and see the commitment it really takes to pursue this as a full time career.
Age 15- 19
The purpose of this review is to show readers there is a certain amount of devotion that goes into reporting the entertainment business...even if it is borderline stalking. Don't judge me. I am not always on this site, I just chose it because I thought no one else would do it.
For someone with completely no life, Perez Hilton is doing well for himself by virtually stalking today’s celebrities and finding out juicy gossip about them. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been on the site once or twice...or a hundred times because along with information on my favourite celebrities, it also has the latest news about other things such as movies, television shows, and politics. Despite his satirical comments and constant bashing of those he does not like, Perez proves to have a lot of information on just one website. The layout of the site, especially the header, is very eye catching and immediately attracts viewers to scroll down the page and see what it has to offer. For example, not only does it talk about Tom Cruise coming out of hiding, Katie Holmes supposed brainwashing and Madonna’s new album; it also talks about the about the swine flu, broadcasted on every television and radio, leaving nobodies ears untouched. The somewhat controversial debate between Miss. California and the gay population is one of Perez’s favourite topics, not to mention making fun of Sara Palin... continuously.
On the left side of the page is a convenient search engine that helps the reader locate who and what they want read about without all the hassle of scrolling through page after page. In the center of the first page there is a small box labelled ‘most emailed’ and ‘most commented’. This is an easier way of seeing what the most popular news of the week is. And let me tell you, Perez Hilton is always on the ball. His page is never tainted with old news; there is always a new picture of a grotesque looking Amy Winehouse or a never before seen poster of the latest fad...Twilight.
The main thing that takes away from the site is the never ending advertisements on each side of the page. On one side there could be an ad for fast and easy weight loss and on the other, a promotional poster for Matthew McConaughey’s new movie. All in all, the site is primarily for those devoted to entertainment news. So, if there are any aspiring entertainment journalists out there, I definitely recommend they take the time to look at this page and see the commitment it really takes to pursue this as a full time career.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Prison Break Is On A Roll
Age 15-19
The purpose of this review is to inform readers about the latest episode of Prison Break and describe the show.
(Photo courtesy of Fox Broadcasting Company)
What could make the story of a super-intelligent, handsome engineer purposely getting himself arrested to save his half brother from an undeserved execution in prison any better? Could it be an intricate, fast paced story line, believable acting and a full length upper body tattoo? Despite the many fans around the world that wait eagerly every Monday night to watch Michael Scofield and his team of convicts wittingly squeeze their way through another mess with the government, the four year show is slowly coming to an unwelcomed end. The series- created by Paul Scheuring, also known for writing “A Man Apart” (2003) - became a hit when it aired on Fox in 2005. Since then, the show has gained many more loyal fans that are dreading its finale.
This week’s episode is the sixth last in the entire series and it definitely did not disappoint. Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller) and his half brother Lincoln Burrows (Dominic Purcell) are not only still on the run from the government and their mother- that was presumed dead in earlier episodes- but are now against each other. The episode still has the characters that everyone has become attached to with the plus of excellent acting. All of the actors have had to change throughout the course of the series, yet they manage to stay true to their characters. Michael is still the smart planner of the group and Lincoln the dependable older brother. Theodor Bagwell a.k.a. T-Bag (Robert Knepper) remains as one of the more humorous characters in the show by the actor’s dedication to the snide remarks and witty comments written in the script. In a show full of drama, he is the comic relief that creates a balance in the plot. Sara Tancredi (Sarah Wayne Callies) gives an excellent performance when she discovers some unbelievable news. Her well- thought out reaction leaves the viewer in suspense as to whether or not she is happy about it. I guess they’ll have to wait for the later episodes to find out.
In addition to the wonderful acting, the setting is light and colourful which ads a nice contrast to the dark situation that the characters find themselves in. By doing this the viewers get a feeling of hope for Michael and his team which, let’s face it, is a long time coming. With this episode, the plot is giving hints about how the show will end. So, all the fans that sit, waiting with their fingers crossed, will hopefully get what they are expecting at the end of this thrilling and enticing show.
The purpose of this review is to inform readers about the latest episode of Prison Break and describe the show.
(Photo courtesy of Fox Broadcasting Company)
What could make the story of a super-intelligent, handsome engineer purposely getting himself arrested to save his half brother from an undeserved execution in prison any better? Could it be an intricate, fast paced story line, believable acting and a full length upper body tattoo? Despite the many fans around the world that wait eagerly every Monday night to watch Michael Scofield and his team of convicts wittingly squeeze their way through another mess with the government, the four year show is slowly coming to an unwelcomed end. The series- created by Paul Scheuring, also known for writing “A Man Apart” (2003) - became a hit when it aired on Fox in 2005. Since then, the show has gained many more loyal fans that are dreading its finale.
This week’s episode is the sixth last in the entire series and it definitely did not disappoint. Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller) and his half brother Lincoln Burrows (Dominic Purcell) are not only still on the run from the government and their mother- that was presumed dead in earlier episodes- but are now against each other. The episode still has the characters that everyone has become attached to with the plus of excellent acting. All of the actors have had to change throughout the course of the series, yet they manage to stay true to their characters. Michael is still the smart planner of the group and Lincoln the dependable older brother. Theodor Bagwell a.k.a. T-Bag (Robert Knepper) remains as one of the more humorous characters in the show by the actor’s dedication to the snide remarks and witty comments written in the script. In a show full of drama, he is the comic relief that creates a balance in the plot. Sara Tancredi (Sarah Wayne Callies) gives an excellent performance when she discovers some unbelievable news. Her well- thought out reaction leaves the viewer in suspense as to whether or not she is happy about it. I guess they’ll have to wait for the later episodes to find out.
In addition to the wonderful acting, the setting is light and colourful which ads a nice contrast to the dark situation that the characters find themselves in. By doing this the viewers get a feeling of hope for Michael and his team which, let’s face it, is a long time coming. With this episode, the plot is giving hints about how the show will end. So, all the fans that sit, waiting with their fingers crossed, will hopefully get what they are expecting at the end of this thrilling and enticing show.
Monday, April 27, 2009
There's Nothing Better Than A Little Press Coverage
For ages 18-21
The purpose of this editorial is to address the fact that people spend way too much time focusing on the lives on people who they don't even know and who don't do anything for society.
Madonna, the Queen of pop, falling off a horse is hardly breaking news and yet an entire article is devoted to the incident. According to Madonna herself the reason she had to relive another frightful experience on a horse was due to a paparazzi scaring her horse. However, Thomas Hinton says he was the only photographer there and only captured pictures of her before and after the incident.
According to the article,Madonna suffered only minor injuries and bruises, so does anyone really care? What people actually care about- besides politics and economics- is controversial, enticing entertainment news. This article is more like a diary entry of Madonna's life rather than "breaking news". To be honest, the only interesting thing about this article is finding out that she was denied the adoption of a child from a southern African country. Children in underdeveloped countries are dying and suffering each day and Madonna- one of the wealthiest people in the world- was not allowed to help them. I can only imagine what the adoption agency must think of her.
The bottom line and underlying issue is that people focus too much on trivial situations,like Madonna falling off a horse,than recognizing the true suffering in the world,like the children in underdeveloped countries. If everybody in the world payed more attention to the important things in life then maybe we'd all be on our way to finding cures for them instead of trying to find out about Madonna's next album.
The purpose of this editorial is to address the fact that people spend way too much time focusing on the lives on people who they don't even know and who don't do anything for society.
Madonna, the Queen of pop, falling off a horse is hardly breaking news and yet an entire article is devoted to the incident. According to Madonna herself the reason she had to relive another frightful experience on a horse was due to a paparazzi scaring her horse. However, Thomas Hinton says he was the only photographer there and only captured pictures of her before and after the incident.
According to the article,Madonna suffered only minor injuries and bruises, so does anyone really care? What people actually care about- besides politics and economics- is controversial, enticing entertainment news. This article is more like a diary entry of Madonna's life rather than "breaking news". To be honest, the only interesting thing about this article is finding out that she was denied the adoption of a child from a southern African country. Children in underdeveloped countries are dying and suffering each day and Madonna- one of the wealthiest people in the world- was not allowed to help them. I can only imagine what the adoption agency must think of her.
The bottom line and underlying issue is that people focus too much on trivial situations,like Madonna falling off a horse,than recognizing the true suffering in the world,like the children in underdeveloped countries. If everybody in the world payed more attention to the important things in life then maybe we'd all be on our way to finding cures for them instead of trying to find out about Madonna's next album.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Obama Spills CIA Secrets!
For ages 15-19
The purpose of this editorial is to support the fact that harsh punishment and torture are not always the best way to retrieve information and press the issue that America is still living in the "Bush" times.
The author of this article does an excellent job in showing no bias towards the issue of Obama giving away secret interrogation techniques of the CIA. No specific sides are being taken; instead the author is informing the reader of the beliefs and pros and cons of softer interrogations to harsher interrogations.
Torture is one of the best ways to inflict fear in a human being, but is it the best way to get the answers you want? Many people believe that harsh punishments are critical in attaining information and others believe the more pasivist approach. In my opinion, torture is not the way to go.
Half of the time torture provides the same amount of information as soft punishment, yet Americans are still using it. If they believe that this is the right way then why are they so worked up that Obama has revealed their secret? There are other ways that important information can be attained without going behind the backs of Americans to do it. These types of lies, when brought out into the limelight, only cause controversy and disappointment.
The purpose of this editorial is to support the fact that harsh punishment and torture are not always the best way to retrieve information and press the issue that America is still living in the "Bush" times.
The author of this article does an excellent job in showing no bias towards the issue of Obama giving away secret interrogation techniques of the CIA. No specific sides are being taken; instead the author is informing the reader of the beliefs and pros and cons of softer interrogations to harsher interrogations.
Torture is one of the best ways to inflict fear in a human being, but is it the best way to get the answers you want? Many people believe that harsh punishments are critical in attaining information and others believe the more pasivist approach. In my opinion, torture is not the way to go.
Half of the time torture provides the same amount of information as soft punishment, yet Americans are still using it. If they believe that this is the right way then why are they so worked up that Obama has revealed their secret? There are other ways that important information can be attained without going behind the backs of Americans to do it. These types of lies, when brought out into the limelight, only cause controversy and disappointment.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Daughter For Sale!
For ages 15-19
The purpose of this editorial is to explain that selling individual, especially those of kin, is wrong no matter the financial problems in the family.
This article displays clear recollections of the situation between Rafiq Qureshi and his nine year old daughter by providing quotes from him and reporters that have interviewed him. The author had no bias and no obvious opinion on the matter. This allows the reader to decide with full discretion if the situation is right or wrong without the author's influence.
Personally, it's not exactly the fact that he tried to sell his daughter because it happens all over world whether or not we like to admit, but his complete denial of doing it somewhat trails down the road of unethicality. The author states that a reporter from the weekly tabloid of World, disguised as a wealthy Arab sheikh, met with Qureshi to offer money for his daughter. 'Hypocrisy' is definitely an understatement for this situation.
The author also states that Qureshi was complaining about the little money his daughter's movie 'Slumdog Millionaire' pulled in for him and his family. Whether or not the author added this in the article to appeal to readers' emotions is beyond me, but this is not a good reason to sell a human being. Sure, money is hard to get no matter where a person is, but there are different and more ethical ways of doing it. Qureshi's ex-wife, on the other hand, didn't seem too happy in finding out the plans he had for their daughter by bluntly saying "I did not believe he would actually agree to it". It seems like she is the only logical one so far.
The purpose of this editorial is to explain that selling individual, especially those of kin, is wrong no matter the financial problems in the family.
This article displays clear recollections of the situation between Rafiq Qureshi and his nine year old daughter by providing quotes from him and reporters that have interviewed him. The author had no bias and no obvious opinion on the matter. This allows the reader to decide with full discretion if the situation is right or wrong without the author's influence.
Personally, it's not exactly the fact that he tried to sell his daughter because it happens all over world whether or not we like to admit, but his complete denial of doing it somewhat trails down the road of unethicality. The author states that a reporter from the weekly tabloid of World, disguised as a wealthy Arab sheikh, met with Qureshi to offer money for his daughter. 'Hypocrisy' is definitely an understatement for this situation.
The author also states that Qureshi was complaining about the little money his daughter's movie 'Slumdog Millionaire' pulled in for him and his family. Whether or not the author added this in the article to appeal to readers' emotions is beyond me, but this is not a good reason to sell a human being. Sure, money is hard to get no matter where a person is, but there are different and more ethical ways of doing it. Qureshi's ex-wife, on the other hand, didn't seem too happy in finding out the plans he had for their daughter by bluntly saying "I did not believe he would actually agree to it". It seems like she is the only logical one so far.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Airport Security 101: How to stop an airplane hijacker
For ages 15- 19
The purpose is to ask how an armed man managed to make it through airport security.
After the devastating events of September 11, 2001 one would think that airport security- no matter where in the world- would be increased to prevent anything like this occurring again. However, many would be more than happy to disagree with this statement. The main question on every one's mind is how did an armed man make it past security when we are continuously being told that airports are taking necessary precautions to avoid any more hijackings and deaths.
Evidently, a man- with 'mental challenges' no less- managed to make it past air port security in an attempt to hijack a plane headed to Canada. Now, it doesn't explain in the article if this man was trained with a weapon, but the airport security, which is hired professionally to take care of situations like this, filed at fulfilling their job. It's true, accidents happen and mistakes are made, but after all the publicity of 9/11 it's only common sense to assume that airports would tighten up their security.
Luckily none of the passengers were killed or injured, but what if they were? What if this hijacker was not willing to exchange cash and personal belongings for their freedom? This makes me wonder how much initiative and action is being taken to ensure our security. This time it was only a false alarm; next time we may not be so lucky.
The purpose is to ask how an armed man managed to make it through airport security.
After the devastating events of September 11, 2001 one would think that airport security- no matter where in the world- would be increased to prevent anything like this occurring again. However, many would be more than happy to disagree with this statement. The main question on every one's mind is how did an armed man make it past security when we are continuously being told that airports are taking necessary precautions to avoid any more hijackings and deaths.
Evidently, a man- with 'mental challenges' no less- managed to make it past air port security in an attempt to hijack a plane headed to Canada. Now, it doesn't explain in the article if this man was trained with a weapon, but the airport security, which is hired professionally to take care of situations like this, filed at fulfilling their job. It's true, accidents happen and mistakes are made, but after all the publicity of 9/11 it's only common sense to assume that airports would tighten up their security.
Luckily none of the passengers were killed or injured, but what if they were? What if this hijacker was not willing to exchange cash and personal belongings for their freedom? This makes me wonder how much initiative and action is being taken to ensure our security. This time it was only a false alarm; next time we may not be so lucky.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Writing 'Supernatural' With Eric Kripke
(I'd just like to point out that his initials are the same as mine except backwards. I think this is pretty crazy seeing as he is one of my heroes)
K: So, how exactly is the episode with the third Winchester brother supposed to go?
E.K.: (Typing on his laptop) You're going to have to wait until the 23rd to find that out?
K: Oh come on, I can't wait that long.
E.K.: Don't worry, it'll have all the urban legends and all the horror fans love.
K: With the addition of a new brother.
E.K.: I know a lot of fans are kind of mad about that, but I promise it'll all work out. I have it all planned in my mind. Every move the Winchesters make is all up here (points to his head).
K: So, we'll be happy with how it turns out?
E.K.: (Laughing) Yeah, it'll still be about two brothers, on a life long road trip, listening to classic rock 24/7.
K: What about when 'Supernatural' is done?
E.K.: I'm not sure yet. I might start writing another show, but I'm going to miss Sam and Dean. Their characters were so well developed to having a love/hate brother relationship.
K: Who knows, maybe the characters in your next show will be just as good.
E.K.: (Nodding his head) True. I guess we're just going to have to wait.
K: So, how exactly is the episode with the third Winchester brother supposed to go?
E.K.: (Typing on his laptop) You're going to have to wait until the 23rd to find that out?
K: Oh come on, I can't wait that long.
E.K.: Don't worry, it'll have all the urban legends and all the horror fans love.
K: With the addition of a new brother.
E.K.: I know a lot of fans are kind of mad about that, but I promise it'll all work out. I have it all planned in my mind. Every move the Winchesters make is all up here (points to his head).
K: So, we'll be happy with how it turns out?
E.K.: (Laughing) Yeah, it'll still be about two brothers, on a life long road trip, listening to classic rock 24/7.
K: What about when 'Supernatural' is done?
E.K.: I'm not sure yet. I might start writing another show, but I'm going to miss Sam and Dean. Their characters were so well developed to having a love/hate brother relationship.
K: Who knows, maybe the characters in your next show will be just as good.
E.K.: (Nodding his head) True. I guess we're just going to have to wait.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Day With David Archuleta
K: So, when is your next concert?
D.A.: On Tuesday. My schedule has been so crazy lately. It's all thanks to American Idol.
K: Oh come on David, you were going to get a record contract with or without Idol. It was only a matter of time.
D.A.: (Panting) I'm just really thankful I got the opportunity. I wouldn't have become worldwide back in Utah.
K: I guess not, but it must be pretty overwhelming to be on the road everyday.
D.A.: It is, but it's for something that I love to do. It's been so amazing!
K: It sounds amazing. It doesn't seem like being runner up on Idol has discouraged you at all.
D.A.: Not at all. Idol was a learning experience. It would have been awesome to win, but David Cook is such a nice guy with so much talent.
K: Wow, most people in your position would be totally resentful of the person that beat them.
D.A.: (Laughing) David is awesome. I could never hate him.
K: Yeah, he is a good musician too. But Simon must have definitely gotten under your skin during the competition.
D.A.: (Laughing) Simon is definitely... something, but he is an amazing judge. He knows what he's talking about.
K: David, do you ever get mad? You're always so happy and smiling.
D.A.: (Laughing) I hope that's a compliment. I'm just not a very angry person.
K: Calmness in a very rare thing in the entertainment business. Well, I wish you so much luck with your career in music. I hope it all works out for you.
D.A.: (Panting and laughing) Thank you so much.
D.A.: On Tuesday. My schedule has been so crazy lately. It's all thanks to American Idol.
K: Oh come on David, you were going to get a record contract with or without Idol. It was only a matter of time.
D.A.: (Panting) I'm just really thankful I got the opportunity. I wouldn't have become worldwide back in Utah.
K: I guess not, but it must be pretty overwhelming to be on the road everyday.
D.A.: It is, but it's for something that I love to do. It's been so amazing!
K: It sounds amazing. It doesn't seem like being runner up on Idol has discouraged you at all.
D.A.: Not at all. Idol was a learning experience. It would have been awesome to win, but David Cook is such a nice guy with so much talent.
K: Wow, most people in your position would be totally resentful of the person that beat them.
D.A.: (Laughing) David is awesome. I could never hate him.
K: Yeah, he is a good musician too. But Simon must have definitely gotten under your skin during the competition.
D.A.: (Laughing) Simon is definitely... something, but he is an amazing judge. He knows what he's talking about.
K: David, do you ever get mad? You're always so happy and smiling.
D.A.: (Laughing) I hope that's a compliment. I'm just not a very angry person.
K: Calmness in a very rare thing in the entertainment business. Well, I wish you so much luck with your career in music. I hope it all works out for you.
D.A.: (Panting and laughing) Thank you so much.
Day With Gene Simmons
K: Gene, you have a pretty good life as a rock star.
G.S: (Gives cocky smile) My life isn't good...It's amazing!
K: True, but doesn't it bother you that most of your fans are middle aged women.
G.S: (Laughing) That's not true. We have all kinds of fans. From babies to grown ups.
K: Babies? Really?
G.S: (Smiling) I'm serious. We even have merchandise for babies like KISS pacifiers and KISS bibs.
K: And did you think of making baby merchandise?
G.S: (Sarcastically) No, that was my wife's brilliant idea. Anything that has to do with kids, she's all for it.
K: Oh yeah, you have two kids yourself. So not only are you a rock star, but you're a dad.
G.S: (Smiling proudly) Yup.
K: So how do your kids feel about having a rock star father?
G.S: Nick, my son, is in denial that his dad is cooler than him.
K: And do you think you're cooler than him?
G.S: (Laughing) I was, I mean come on I was the lead singer of KISS. But now I'm passing the torch down to him.
K: Well, here's hoping that he's just as much as a rock star as his dad.
G.S: (Gives cocky smile) My life isn't good...It's amazing!
K: True, but doesn't it bother you that most of your fans are middle aged women.
G.S: (Laughing) That's not true. We have all kinds of fans. From babies to grown ups.
K: Babies? Really?
G.S: (Smiling) I'm serious. We even have merchandise for babies like KISS pacifiers and KISS bibs.
K: And did you think of making baby merchandise?
G.S: (Sarcastically) No, that was my wife's brilliant idea. Anything that has to do with kids, she's all for it.
K: Oh yeah, you have two kids yourself. So not only are you a rock star, but you're a dad.
G.S: (Smiling proudly) Yup.
K: So how do your kids feel about having a rock star father?
G.S: Nick, my son, is in denial that his dad is cooler than him.
K: And do you think you're cooler than him?
G.S: (Laughing) I was, I mean come on I was the lead singer of KISS. But now I'm passing the torch down to him.
K: Well, here's hoping that he's just as much as a rock star as his dad.
Friday, April 3, 2009
My Friend, My Love, My Weakness 15-19
This piece is written for people who are easily pressured and influnced by those around them.
I was running, faster and faster, trying to escape the horrible thing I had just done. The wind rippled through my hair as my jeans became soaked by the water that splashed when my sneakers hit the ground. Cory was a few feet in front of me as though trying to outrun us. I wasn’t going to let him do that. It was his entire fault that Samantha and I were involved in this. We didn’t want to steal the sunglasses. Our intentions were to browse in the store, but then I saw Cory stuff a watch into his pocket. That single act led to the position we were in now. We were running from the law for a stupid pair of sunglasses. Why did I do it? Why do I allow myself to be pressured into these things?
Cory and I had been best friends since before I could remember. His mother was best friends with mine and our families were practically inseparable. We would do anything for each other, but that’s not why I did this. The feelings I had for Cory were not exactly the ones he had for me. His perfect smile and bright eyes flipped a small switch in me. A switch that changed me from the independent, smart girl I was to a stupid, love struck teenager. I was his puppet and he effortlessly pulled my strings in any which way he wanted. What upset me even more was that I was pretty sure he was aware of the effect he had on me, but used that power nonetheless.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I turned to look at Samantha. She looked as much out of breath as I was. In one swift motion she flipped her dark hair out of her face before I slammed into something hard. I looked up to see Cory’s tall, figure stopped in front of a man wearing blue. The man began to search Cory’s pockets and found the watch. He then pulled out the pair of sunglasses I had taken. I knew it was wrong to frame him, but I had no choice. I had to break free from the spell Cory had over me. This was his fault and he had to pay. Cory was my friend, my love and my weakness, but from weakness emerges strength. The strength to find yourself and do the right thing no matter the consequences.
I was running, faster and faster, trying to escape the horrible thing I had just done. The wind rippled through my hair as my jeans became soaked by the water that splashed when my sneakers hit the ground. Cory was a few feet in front of me as though trying to outrun us. I wasn’t going to let him do that. It was his entire fault that Samantha and I were involved in this. We didn’t want to steal the sunglasses. Our intentions were to browse in the store, but then I saw Cory stuff a watch into his pocket. That single act led to the position we were in now. We were running from the law for a stupid pair of sunglasses. Why did I do it? Why do I allow myself to be pressured into these things?
Cory and I had been best friends since before I could remember. His mother was best friends with mine and our families were practically inseparable. We would do anything for each other, but that’s not why I did this. The feelings I had for Cory were not exactly the ones he had for me. His perfect smile and bright eyes flipped a small switch in me. A switch that changed me from the independent, smart girl I was to a stupid, love struck teenager. I was his puppet and he effortlessly pulled my strings in any which way he wanted. What upset me even more was that I was pretty sure he was aware of the effect he had on me, but used that power nonetheless.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I turned to look at Samantha. She looked as much out of breath as I was. In one swift motion she flipped her dark hair out of her face before I slammed into something hard. I looked up to see Cory’s tall, figure stopped in front of a man wearing blue. The man began to search Cory’s pockets and found the watch. He then pulled out the pair of sunglasses I had taken. I knew it was wrong to frame him, but I had no choice. I had to break free from the spell Cory had over me. This was his fault and he had to pay. Cory was my friend, my love and my weakness, but from weakness emerges strength. The strength to find yourself and do the right thing no matter the consequences.
The Everlasting Tradition 15-19
The piece is for anyone that has lost someone special in their life. Dying is a natural thing. The bones and flesh will erode and become part of the soil, but memories will forever live on.
I love carnivals. Eating a slice of apple pie and watching the children jubilantly run up to their parent’s, asking for another ticket for a ride, reminded me of the many summers I spent with my father. My clear recollections of my father always brightened my mood. He died a few years ago at the age of 58 due to a massive heart attack. The summer before his death was the last time we went to the carnival. It was like an annual tradition for us. My mother was never excited about seeing clowns or experiencing terrifying rides, so it was just the two of us.
We would first start off by buying a roll of tickets, big enough to fit around my small wrist. Then we would hop on any ride that caught our attention. After that we would play games and I would always win more prizes than him. Going back to the carnival alone made me sad, but also made me happy. There I was able to reminisce on the wonderful and amazing father I was lucky enough to have. His joyful laughter and warm personality always attracted people to his company. Sometimes when I was sad or hurt, he would by me a slice of apple pie to make me feel better. After the first few times, it became as much of a tradition as the carnival itself.
Now I stand there amongst the many unfamiliar faces, eating my usual slice of pie. Occasionally I would get unwelcoming glares from people and I would know exactly what they are thinking. What is this lady doing here all alone? Why isn’t she with anyone? The carnival had become a place for me and my father to go and enjoy ourselves. I would feel wrong to bring someone else and change the tradition. Maybe one day when I get married, settle down and have a child of my own I’ll bring them to the carnival, but for now I can only go with the memories of my father close at heart.
I love carnivals. Eating a slice of apple pie and watching the children jubilantly run up to their parent’s, asking for another ticket for a ride, reminded me of the many summers I spent with my father. My clear recollections of my father always brightened my mood. He died a few years ago at the age of 58 due to a massive heart attack. The summer before his death was the last time we went to the carnival. It was like an annual tradition for us. My mother was never excited about seeing clowns or experiencing terrifying rides, so it was just the two of us.
We would first start off by buying a roll of tickets, big enough to fit around my small wrist. Then we would hop on any ride that caught our attention. After that we would play games and I would always win more prizes than him. Going back to the carnival alone made me sad, but also made me happy. There I was able to reminisce on the wonderful and amazing father I was lucky enough to have. His joyful laughter and warm personality always attracted people to his company. Sometimes when I was sad or hurt, he would by me a slice of apple pie to make me feel better. After the first few times, it became as much of a tradition as the carnival itself.
Now I stand there amongst the many unfamiliar faces, eating my usual slice of pie. Occasionally I would get unwelcoming glares from people and I would know exactly what they are thinking. What is this lady doing here all alone? Why isn’t she with anyone? The carnival had become a place for me and my father to go and enjoy ourselves. I would feel wrong to bring someone else and change the tradition. Maybe one day when I get married, settle down and have a child of my own I’ll bring them to the carnival, but for now I can only go with the memories of my father close at heart.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Can't she understand? 15-19
With this piece I am trying to illustrate that sometimes what may be adorable to you may not be a mutual feeling with a baby.
I sat there in the ridiculous costume, wondering why mommy was standing over me with an enormous smile spread across her face. I hated peas, and mommy knew that. It was like she was mocking me by dressing me up as one and endlessly taking pictures. Not only was the costume ridiculous, it also lacked any sort of ventilation. I was practically sweating off all of the mashed potatoes I had eaten for lunch. That was when I decided to take drastic measures. My mission: to somehow get myself out of the vegetable. Wiggling and squirming seemed to make no difference as mommy began to laugh uncontrollably. She pressed the button on the picture-taker which made a bright flash. I was left stunned by the light before attempting my escape again.
If it wasn’t embarrassing enough for mommy to loom over me as I struggled in the costume, she had to invite her friend over. Could they not tell by my sudden burst of crying that I was not comfortable? Could they not understand that I would much rather be in my playpen, shaking my rattle continuously. I lifted my head and managed to peek some of it out of the green hood. The summer breeze felt good on my head as I took a break. Having short arms is not useful when trying to wriggle free of a body suit. My breathing was beginning to become heavy. My fruitless attempts seemed like a complete waste of time until daddy came running up in front of me. He seemed angry at what mommy was doing as he unzipped the green suit and pried it off me. Freedom at last! The suddenly cold wind began to refresh my sweaty body before daddy grabbed me in his arms and placed my head lightly on his shoulder. My eyelids became heavy as his rhythmic steps lulled me into a deep sleep. That was definitely enough exercise for one day.
If it wasn’t embarrassing enough for mommy to loom over me as I struggled in the costume, she had to invite her friend over. Could they not tell by my sudden burst of crying that I was not comfortable? Could they not understand that I would much rather be in my playpen, shaking my rattle continuously. I lifted my head and managed to peek some of it out of the green hood. The summer breeze felt good on my head as I took a break. Having short arms is not useful when trying to wriggle free of a body suit. My breathing was beginning to become heavy. My fruitless attempts seemed like a complete waste of time until daddy came running up in front of me. He seemed angry at what mommy was doing as he unzipped the green suit and pried it off me. Freedom at last! The suddenly cold wind began to refresh my sweaty body before daddy grabbed me in his arms and placed my head lightly on his shoulder. My eyelids became heavy as his rhythmic steps lulled me into a deep sleep. That was definitely enough exercise for one day.
Monday, March 30, 2009
The Uphill Battle
The wind whistled past my ears as the thick clouds swirled around us. It felt good to just stand there and escape reality. Escape the stresses of work and difficulties of family. I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in the cool, crisp air that can only be found on the highest point of a mountain. The abnormally large mosquitoes buzzed about my head, but I didn’t care. It felt serene and natural. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Stress was becoming a prominent part of my life which is why I had to get away. Steve and I stood at the top of that mountain, trying to take everything in. The smell, the sound... the height. Steve was my best friend and part of the reason why I was stressed. A month ago I was diagnosed with leukemia. The doctor said I only had a limited amount of time to live. You can only imagine my family’s reaction to the bad news. Freaking out about my limited life was an option, but I preferred to live it to the fullest.
One of the things I wanted to do was climb this particular mountain. I told myself that if I could make it to the top then my life hadn’t just been wasted meeting deadlines and missing countless family dinners. Steve wasn’t very comfortable with doing this, saying I should spend my last few weeks with my family, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want my wife and kids to see me as I grew weak, lying in bed and waiting for my end to come. I didn’t know much about my illness. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel; when I was going to die. The only thing I knew was that one day, I’m not exactly sure when, my family and I will be reunited again.
Stress was becoming a prominent part of my life which is why I had to get away. Steve and I stood at the top of that mountain, trying to take everything in. The smell, the sound... the height. Steve was my best friend and part of the reason why I was stressed. A month ago I was diagnosed with leukemia. The doctor said I only had a limited amount of time to live. You can only imagine my family’s reaction to the bad news. Freaking out about my limited life was an option, but I preferred to live it to the fullest.
One of the things I wanted to do was climb this particular mountain. I told myself that if I could make it to the top then my life hadn’t just been wasted meeting deadlines and missing countless family dinners. Steve wasn’t very comfortable with doing this, saying I should spend my last few weeks with my family, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want my wife and kids to see me as I grew weak, lying in bed and waiting for my end to come. I didn’t know much about my illness. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel; when I was going to die. The only thing I knew was that one day, I’m not exactly sure when, my family and I will be reunited again.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Drinking A Glass Of Water!- ages 15-19
At approximately 2:00 am Wednesday, Veronica Jones was heard escaping from her bedroom to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. Suddenly parched, she let the water run into her then gulped it down in one tip of her glass.
This is not the first time Veronica has been heard or seen in the kitchen at such late hours. Her mother met up with our reporters and confirmed our speculations; she is, in fact, a drinker. "Veronica loves drinking water. There isn't a day that I don't see her with a water bottle in hand". Ms. Jones says kindly.
Even her friends at school agree to the accusation of Veronica's drinking habits. "She's always drinking water" Her friend reports in an after school meeting with our reporters. According to specialists, water is good in flushing out toxins from the body and keeping your mind sharp.
If that's not proof enough, Veronica took the time to share her high school grades with us. "All A's" She beams, pointing out each individual mark. There is no doubt that water is one of the most important elements to people.
This is not the first time Veronica has been heard or seen in the kitchen at such late hours. Her mother met up with our reporters and confirmed our speculations; she is, in fact, a drinker. "Veronica loves drinking water. There isn't a day that I don't see her with a water bottle in hand". Ms. Jones says kindly.
Even her friends at school agree to the accusation of Veronica's drinking habits. "She's always drinking water" Her friend reports in an after school meeting with our reporters. According to specialists, water is good in flushing out toxins from the body and keeping your mind sharp.
If that's not proof enough, Veronica took the time to share her high school grades with us. "All A's" She beams, pointing out each individual mark. There is no doubt that water is one of the most important elements to people.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Tying Shoe Laces!- ages 15-19
Little Cindy was seen at the base of her stairs early Monday morning diligently tugging at the shoe laces of her brand new sneakers.
Before this, Cindy had always owned Velcro shoes, making it easier for her to strap them then go, but she has suddenly changed her mind. Our reporters caught up with Cindy one day after school and asked her why the sudden change of heart. She said , "I want to be like all the big kids", as she proudly showed us the neatly tied bow perched on top of her shoe.
Cindy is not the only one proud of her accomplishment. Cindy's mother, Nancy, is also excited that her daughter is growing up. "Cindy is very mature for her age so when I told her that all the big kids tied their shoes she begged me to buy her a pair of sneakers with laces. Now, if I can only convince her that big kids eat all their vegetables." Despite Nancy's high expectations for her daughter, she is no doubt proud of her.
There are some days that Cindy would spend outside or in her room, practicing how to tie her shoes. So far, she has learned approximately five different designs for her shoe laces. "She's kind of weird," states a fellow student of Cindy's "all she does during recess is tie her shoes".
It is, undoubtedly, a great achievement for Cindy. Who knows what's to come next from this little shoe lace prodigy?
Before this, Cindy had always owned Velcro shoes, making it easier for her to strap them then go, but she has suddenly changed her mind. Our reporters caught up with Cindy one day after school and asked her why the sudden change of heart. She said , "I want to be like all the big kids", as she proudly showed us the neatly tied bow perched on top of her shoe.
Cindy is not the only one proud of her accomplishment. Cindy's mother, Nancy, is also excited that her daughter is growing up. "Cindy is very mature for her age so when I told her that all the big kids tied their shoes she begged me to buy her a pair of sneakers with laces. Now, if I can only convince her that big kids eat all their vegetables." Despite Nancy's high expectations for her daughter, she is no doubt proud of her.
There are some days that Cindy would spend outside or in her room, practicing how to tie her shoes. So far, she has learned approximately five different designs for her shoe laces. "She's kind of weird," states a fellow student of Cindy's "all she does during recess is tie her shoes".
It is, undoubtedly, a great achievement for Cindy. Who knows what's to come next from this little shoe lace prodigy?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Buying a desk!- ages 15-19
Jim Eleftheriou, father and husband, was seen late Tuesday afternoon at Staples Business Depot purchasing what seemed to be a mahogany desk. His expression was focused as he contemplated on whether or not to buy it.
"I've had many desks before which is why I need one that will last me a while." He says as he walks around the desk; scrutinizing it from different angles. This is the second desk in two years and his wife is not too happy about the excessive purchasing.
"We're are going to waste all our money on these desks!" yells Ms. Eleftheriou, shaking her leg aggressively. It is clear that she wants to get this purchase over with. It is now six o'clock and Jim as yet to make a decision.
"It's just so stressful" He says while tugging at the roots of his hair. Experts agree that excessive desk buying leads to grey hair, early aging and increase of stress. Hopefully, Jim will decide quick before his biological clock runs out!!
"I've had many desks before which is why I need one that will last me a while." He says as he walks around the desk; scrutinizing it from different angles. This is the second desk in two years and his wife is not too happy about the excessive purchasing.
"We're are going to waste all our money on these desks!" yells Ms. Eleftheriou, shaking her leg aggressively. It is clear that she wants to get this purchase over with. It is now six o'clock and Jim as yet to make a decision.
"It's just so stressful" He says while tugging at the roots of his hair. Experts agree that excessive desk buying leads to grey hair, early aging and increase of stress. Hopefully, Jim will decide quick before his biological clock runs out!!
Monday, March 9, 2009
My room's not messy, it's just organized chaos!- ages 15-19
For the first time in eight months, Sydney was spotted lying on her bedroom floor; duster in one hand and vacuum in the other. The satisfied smile on her face was quickly followed by a sigh of relief.
Sydney's sudden cleaning epiphany happened a week prior. She had lost her pet dog in a pile of clothes only to have little Fluffers emerge two days later; dazed and malnourished. That was when she decided to take action and clean her room.
"She started off with a simple sweeping of the floor, but one thing led to another and before I knew it, all her furniture was moved out into the hallway as she cleaned each individual corner of the room" Sydney's mother's smile faded from jubilant to concerned as she recalled the exact day of the cleaning.
"If you ask me," says her older sister, Sarah "I'm glad she finally cleaned that pig sty." Sarah's scary and dangerous encounters in Sydney's room have left her scornful towards the subject.
It took Sydney four hours and two Windex bottles to complete the job, but she's happy she's finished. "I hope I never have to do that again" Sydney wipes the sweat from her brow. According to latest news, a clean room is something that all teens try to avoid, but this girl's valiant attempt at a spotless room has definitely paid off; for her and her family.
Sydney's sudden cleaning epiphany happened a week prior. She had lost her pet dog in a pile of clothes only to have little Fluffers emerge two days later; dazed and malnourished. That was when she decided to take action and clean her room.
"She started off with a simple sweeping of the floor, but one thing led to another and before I knew it, all her furniture was moved out into the hallway as she cleaned each individual corner of the room" Sydney's mother's smile faded from jubilant to concerned as she recalled the exact day of the cleaning.
"If you ask me," says her older sister, Sarah "I'm glad she finally cleaned that pig sty." Sarah's scary and dangerous encounters in Sydney's room have left her scornful towards the subject.
It took Sydney four hours and two Windex bottles to complete the job, but she's happy she's finished. "I hope I never have to do that again" Sydney wipes the sweat from her brow. According to latest news, a clean room is something that all teens try to avoid, but this girl's valiant attempt at a spotless room has definitely paid off; for her and her family.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Poetry 3- The eye of music
The notes flooded through her ears
And her eyes began to swell with tears
The memories that once were
Flashed with each melodic purr
It painted images of laughter and love
Releasing her soul like an imprisoned dove
Her eye lids firmly remained closed
But she didn't need them open to know
The love that once was and will never be
Restored her depressing memories
Here hand strummed another chord
As though stabbing her heart with a sword
Now she will grow weak and old
Knowing it's him she cannot hold
But her music will never die
Leaving her with a new mind's eye
And her eyes began to swell with tears
The memories that once were
Flashed with each melodic purr
It painted images of laughter and love
Releasing her soul like an imprisoned dove
Her eye lids firmly remained closed
But she didn't need them open to know
The love that once was and will never be
Restored her depressing memories
Here hand strummed another chord
As though stabbing her heart with a sword
Now she will grow weak and old
Knowing it's him she cannot hold
But her music will never die
Leaving her with a new mind's eye
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Poetry 2- The change of seasons
The dry trees were graced with a morning shower
As the rose bud bloomed in to a beautiful flower
The darkness destroyed by the sun's wonderful light
And the blue bird continued it's majestic flight
Laughter echoes from the mountain peeks
As the tree roots scope for what they seek
The rain soon turns to solid white
Pelting down on the land with might
The cascade of water ceases to flow
As the hands of time begin to slow
The flowers once so vivid and bright
Shrivel up and lose all their light
As the rose bud bloomed in to a beautiful flower
The darkness destroyed by the sun's wonderful light
And the blue bird continued it's majestic flight
Laughter echoes from the mountain peeks
As the tree roots scope for what they seek
The rain soon turns to solid white
Pelting down on the land with might
The cascade of water ceases to flow
As the hands of time begin to slow
The flowers once so vivid and bright
Shrivel up and lose all their light
Monday, March 2, 2009
Poetry 1- Into a child's mind
The darkness comes and takes control
While the hum of his breath begins to slow
The settings change from dull and grey
To violet fields on a summer’s day
The cool wind rushes through his hair
To open his eyes he does not dare
This world is soft, relaxing and sweet
But everything is not what it seems
The sun is covered by a dark cloud
Claps of thunder; bright and loud
He watches as it begins to rain
The water washing everything away
Violets and sun are no more
As everything sinks in to the core
His feelings of laughter, love and joy
Erode like the purity of a young boy
He opens his eyes as fast as he can
Breathing heavily like an old man
His sigh slowly turns to a piercing weep
And he swears to himself he will never sleep
While the hum of his breath begins to slow
The settings change from dull and grey
To violet fields on a summer’s day
The cool wind rushes through his hair
To open his eyes he does not dare
This world is soft, relaxing and sweet
But everything is not what it seems
The sun is covered by a dark cloud
Claps of thunder; bright and loud
He watches as it begins to rain
The water washing everything away
Violets and sun are no more
As everything sinks in to the core
His feelings of laughter, love and joy
Erode like the purity of a young boy
He opens his eyes as fast as he can
Breathing heavily like an old man
His sigh slowly turns to a piercing weep
And he swears to himself he will never sleep
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Observation 4- ages 15-19
With this piece I want to show that even though one person doesn't like something it doesn't mean everyone has the same opinion. As the saying goes, "One man's trash is another man's treasure".
Vivian breathed in the familiar scent of wood and paint. Home Depot is not exactly the dream job of most women, but she loved it. She smoothed out the wrinkles on her orange apron while the customer unloaded his things on the counter. A kind smile resided on her face and it never seemed to go away. Even as the man aggressively spoke to her, she treated him with the utmost respect.
At her job Vivian didn't have to dress up and always look perfect. She was able to be herself, dress comfortably and make money. The dull gray colour of the floor and orange banners hanging from the ceiling were things she was used to and things she liked even though some say they are depressing. She worked at Home Depot five days a week and she never, not once, found it depressing. On the contrary, she found exhilarating to meet knew people and talk with her co-workers on a daily basis.
The man tapped his finger impatiently on the counter as Vivian scanned his big, pink package of insulation. She quickly typed something on the computer then collected the money from the man. He left without a 'goodbye', but Vivian was perfectly content with that. Her eyes followed the man as he exited the store through the automatic doors. Suddenly, a bird flew in making everyone duck in cover. Vivian just smiled. Sure the store was gloomy and ugly, and a shelter for all kind of animals, but it was as comfortable to her as her own home and she wouldn't change it for the world.
Vivian breathed in the familiar scent of wood and paint. Home Depot is not exactly the dream job of most women, but she loved it. She smoothed out the wrinkles on her orange apron while the customer unloaded his things on the counter. A kind smile resided on her face and it never seemed to go away. Even as the man aggressively spoke to her, she treated him with the utmost respect.
At her job Vivian didn't have to dress up and always look perfect. She was able to be herself, dress comfortably and make money. The dull gray colour of the floor and orange banners hanging from the ceiling were things she was used to and things she liked even though some say they are depressing. She worked at Home Depot five days a week and she never, not once, found it depressing. On the contrary, she found exhilarating to meet knew people and talk with her co-workers on a daily basis.
The man tapped his finger impatiently on the counter as Vivian scanned his big, pink package of insulation. She quickly typed something on the computer then collected the money from the man. He left without a 'goodbye', but Vivian was perfectly content with that. Her eyes followed the man as he exited the store through the automatic doors. Suddenly, a bird flew in making everyone duck in cover. Vivian just smiled. Sure the store was gloomy and ugly, and a shelter for all kind of animals, but it was as comfortable to her as her own home and she wouldn't change it for the world.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Observation 3- Jumping to conclusions- ages 15-19
With this piece I want to show the readers that they shouldn't judge a person solely based on their appearance. Just because they look a certain way it doesn't mean they are not something more on the inside.
Jay flipped open his cell phone allowing the luminous glow of the screen to light up his face. He had exactly one hour to spend in the library during his spare. His eyes wandered around the room at the empty seats around him. Others had only started to file in now, taking seats in the back or near the enormous windows that provided brilliant light for the entire library. Something about it being so quiet made him uneasy. The constant suspicious glares thrown at him by the librarians only added to the matter.
He quickly turned on the computer screen and typed his student number and password; his eyes occassionally looking down at the keyboard. In less than a minute, the screen changed from royal blue to sea- foam green and the desktop applications restored themselves. He lightly placed his hand on the mouse and moved it around, testing its response on the screen. Satisfied with its effortless roaming, he shot the little, white arrow to the internet explorer icon. When he double clicked it seemed to echo through the empty room.
Lifting his hand to his face, he began tapping his finger on his chin, contemplating what to search for. His eyes drifted to the side and he caught the librarian giving him another look. A slight smile spread across his lips, as though he was expecting it. His low- hanging pants and lack of uniform shirt would have any faculty member a bit suspicious and he knew that. The red baseball hat he wore earlier rested in his lap and out of view of the librarian. He finally put his hand down and his fingers began to type. The librarian then made her way towards his desk with a frown. She was there to make sure he was doing something productive, Jay knew that for sure. No body ever trusted him. She leaned over his shoulder and looked at his screen only to see that he was, in fact, doing something productive. Instead of Facebook or youtube, Jay was on the Toronto Sun home page reading about genocide in Cambodia. He looked up at the librarian and noticed her embarrassed expression. She had jumped to conclusions, but it didn't bother him. That was the story of his life.
Jay flipped open his cell phone allowing the luminous glow of the screen to light up his face. He had exactly one hour to spend in the library during his spare. His eyes wandered around the room at the empty seats around him. Others had only started to file in now, taking seats in the back or near the enormous windows that provided brilliant light for the entire library. Something about it being so quiet made him uneasy. The constant suspicious glares thrown at him by the librarians only added to the matter.
He quickly turned on the computer screen and typed his student number and password; his eyes occassionally looking down at the keyboard. In less than a minute, the screen changed from royal blue to sea- foam green and the desktop applications restored themselves. He lightly placed his hand on the mouse and moved it around, testing its response on the screen. Satisfied with its effortless roaming, he shot the little, white arrow to the internet explorer icon. When he double clicked it seemed to echo through the empty room.
Lifting his hand to his face, he began tapping his finger on his chin, contemplating what to search for. His eyes drifted to the side and he caught the librarian giving him another look. A slight smile spread across his lips, as though he was expecting it. His low- hanging pants and lack of uniform shirt would have any faculty member a bit suspicious and he knew that. The red baseball hat he wore earlier rested in his lap and out of view of the librarian. He finally put his hand down and his fingers began to type. The librarian then made her way towards his desk with a frown. She was there to make sure he was doing something productive, Jay knew that for sure. No body ever trusted him. She leaned over his shoulder and looked at his screen only to see that he was, in fact, doing something productive. Instead of Facebook or youtube, Jay was on the Toronto Sun home page reading about genocide in Cambodia. He looked up at the librarian and noticed her embarrassed expression. She had jumped to conclusions, but it didn't bother him. That was the story of his life.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Observation 2- Liquor eases the pain- ages 15-19
Lawrence waddled his way in to the liquor store. The only amount of money he had was jingling in his right jean pocket as his foot collided with the recently polished floor. His grey hat was perched upon his dishevelled dark hair, slightly leaning to the side. He raised an old, wrinkled hand and scratched the stubble that enveloped the lower half of his face, deciding on which type of liquor would best subside today's worries. Maybe it was employment trouble or maybe it was just a stressful day. Whatever gave him the feeling self-loathing was easily fixed with a bottle of, what seemed to be, brandy.
The amber coloured liquid swirled around in the bottle as Lawrence tightly wrapped his hand around the neck and pried it off the shelf. His eyes glared down at the drink as though everything he lived for resided in that tall, glass bottle. He quickly zipped up his battered, old sweater before joining the line at the check-out counter. It was amazing how his energy suddenly increased once he picked up the brandy.
After a few minutes it was finally his turn to pay. He reached deep in to his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, some sliver and some bronze. No toonies or loonies. His finger shuffled through the change until he found the right amount and handed it to the cashier. His breathing became heavy, urging the woman to move faster as she slid the brandy in to a bag. She finally handed it to him and he thanked her with a low, rough voice before pulling his hat over his ears and stepping outside in to the cold, winter air.
The amber coloured liquid swirled around in the bottle as Lawrence tightly wrapped his hand around the neck and pried it off the shelf. His eyes glared down at the drink as though everything he lived for resided in that tall, glass bottle. He quickly zipped up his battered, old sweater before joining the line at the check-out counter. It was amazing how his energy suddenly increased once he picked up the brandy.
After a few minutes it was finally his turn to pay. He reached deep in to his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, some sliver and some bronze. No toonies or loonies. His finger shuffled through the change until he found the right amount and handed it to the cashier. His breathing became heavy, urging the woman to move faster as she slid the brandy in to a bag. She finally handed it to him and he thanked her with a low, rough voice before pulling his hat over his ears and stepping outside in to the cold, winter air.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Observations
The young man, Steve, effortlessly pushes through the short freshmen as he makes his way down the hall. In one swift motion he hitches his back pack higher on his lanky shoulder to avoid it slipping off. His dark, side swept hair and punk- rock accessories added to the school uniform clearly depict that he is a unique and original person that doesn't care about what others think.
The bell has already rung making his pace quicken as he tries to avoid the immature students around him. He looks over his shoulder at his quickly disappearing locker, wondering if he had forgotten any books. From the content smile that suddenly graced his lips, it was obvious that he had everything he needed. With a black, nail- polished finger, he rubbed the bottom of his eye lid, making his eye liner smudge. His fingers are coarse like those of a guitar players. He then lifts his hand higher and pushes back his dark hair, revealing his other eye.
Steve is then acknowledged by another student in the halls. He flashes a smile at the student, who is most likely his friend, and high- fives him. The student then accompanies him for the rest of his walk until they both reach a classroom. They converse for a few minutes until the other student tells Steve to call him then walks in the opposite direction. Steve immediately walks in to the classroom and disappears from view.
The bell has already rung making his pace quicken as he tries to avoid the immature students around him. He looks over his shoulder at his quickly disappearing locker, wondering if he had forgotten any books. From the content smile that suddenly graced his lips, it was obvious that he had everything he needed. With a black, nail- polished finger, he rubbed the bottom of his eye lid, making his eye liner smudge. His fingers are coarse like those of a guitar players. He then lifts his hand higher and pushes back his dark hair, revealing his other eye.
Steve is then acknowledged by another student in the halls. He flashes a smile at the student, who is most likely his friend, and high- fives him. The student then accompanies him for the rest of his walk until they both reach a classroom. They converse for a few minutes until the other student tells Steve to call him then walks in the opposite direction. Steve immediately walks in to the classroom and disappears from view.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Music is my life...literally: Diary of an iPod video.
February 15, 2009
4:00 pm
Today has been slightly...depressing. My owner hasn't used me once; instead she resorts to listening to music on that wretched computer of hers. I hate when she plugs me in to that thing. I feel so violated when the white USB cord synchronizes us. It has been exactly two days since I've played any music what so ever. I've just been sitting in the front pocket of her back pack, alone, next to her purple mittens and wallet.
It was all fine and dandy on Friday. She started off by unplugging me from her iPod dock where I spent hours charging, ready and refreshed for my long day of entertainment. After that she stuffed me in to her bag, but I knew I wouldn't be in there for long. I listened to the rushing wind as she made her way from the car to the warm temperature of the school. Her footsteps sent vibrations through the entire bag, one after another. Once I felt the bag begin to wobble, I knew she was preparing to take me out. The sound of books slamming against the metal locker was heard before she reached in to the front pocket and pulled me out. She began to unravel the headphones (that were wrapped tightly around my body) and turned me on. The screen light illuminated her face as she scrolled down the play list, trying to decide on a song. Finally, she settled on Paramore and began her long journey to room 111. There, she was welcomed by two familiar voices that I knew belonged to her friends. That was when I knew my music would cease to play. Just like I expected she pulled the headphones out of her ears and shut me off. I could feel the cold envelope me as she wrapped the head phones around my body and place me in her bag.
Hopefully, tomorrow will bring about a new day where she realizes how much she loves to listen to me.
4:00 pm
Today has been slightly...depressing. My owner hasn't used me once; instead she resorts to listening to music on that wretched computer of hers. I hate when she plugs me in to that thing. I feel so violated when the white USB cord synchronizes us. It has been exactly two days since I've played any music what so ever. I've just been sitting in the front pocket of her back pack, alone, next to her purple mittens and wallet.
It was all fine and dandy on Friday. She started off by unplugging me from her iPod dock where I spent hours charging, ready and refreshed for my long day of entertainment. After that she stuffed me in to her bag, but I knew I wouldn't be in there for long. I listened to the rushing wind as she made her way from the car to the warm temperature of the school. Her footsteps sent vibrations through the entire bag, one after another. Once I felt the bag begin to wobble, I knew she was preparing to take me out. The sound of books slamming against the metal locker was heard before she reached in to the front pocket and pulled me out. She began to unravel the headphones (that were wrapped tightly around my body) and turned me on. The screen light illuminated her face as she scrolled down the play list, trying to decide on a song. Finally, she settled on Paramore and began her long journey to room 111. There, she was welcomed by two familiar voices that I knew belonged to her friends. That was when I knew my music would cease to play. Just like I expected she pulled the headphones out of her ears and shut me off. I could feel the cold envelope me as she wrapped the head phones around my body and place me in her bag.
Hopefully, tomorrow will bring about a new day where she realizes how much she loves to listen to me.
February 16, 2009
1:30 pm
1:30 pm
Finally my owner has listened to me, even though it was only for a few minutes. The only part I regret is that she noticed two songs that were missing from her play list. Now she's going to plug me in to her computer. Have I mentioned how much I hate her computer? It just sits there, mocking me, with its enormous size. It feels so superior knowing that it gives me everything I have.
After listening to a song from her favourite movie August Rush (I know it's her favourite movie from the countless times she plays the song) she placed me carelessly on her printer. I am not looking forward to being synchronized, but it's inevitable. It's only a matter of time before she slides me out of the protective case and places me on the desk, bare and cold. She'll proceed to pull out the white USB cord and attach it to me and the computer. I shutter at the idea.
Until that time comes I will remain on the printer, my headphones hanging off the ends. Maybe she'll show some mercy and not synchronize me. No, that's impossible. I know this girl too well. She's completely obsessed with music. Well, I'll be back with an update after I pay a dreaded visit to the computer.
February 17, 2009
7:00 pm
Dear Diary,
Today takes the cake as the most depressing day of my life. Not only did my owner update me on that moronic, egotistical computer, but to top it all off, she forgot to take me with her. So, the entire day I spent sitting next to the computer that likes to call himself, D.E.R.C. (Doing Everything Right Continuously). More like J.E.R.K. if you ask me.
The rivalry between us didn't always exist. It all started one dreadful summer ago when I left with my owner on vacation. I spent the entire summer playing music and movies for her entertainment. When we returned home, Derc wouldn't speak to either of us. At first I tried to console Derc by telling him that he was the fastest, virus- free computer I had ever connected to (a regretful decision on my part), but he didn't buy it. He even did the horrible thing of crashing on her while she was doing her essay. That was when I completely lost it. I confronted Derc while I was being updated, telling him that he should just get off his high horse already. Derc didn't like that. Ever since then the tension between us has thickened and the prospect of us rekindling our friendship is very slim.
February 18, 2009
5:30
Dear diary,
I’m back and I’m a little… handicapped, because my genius owner decided to leave me out of my case ALL DAY! Now, at the top right corner of my body, resides a dent the size of a pea (which I estimate is the size of my owner’s functionless brain). Derc has been laughing at me continuously for an hour. Have there been any stories of an iPod going crazy and killing every electronic device it encounters? No? Well, there will be now.
Why do all the bad things have to happen to me? I’m the one who falls on the ground and gets a permanent scar! I’m the one who gets forgotten in a locker only do be found one hour later! I thought she loved me. I thought she would protect me through anything, at least that’s the lie she fed her parents when she wanted to buy me. It’s all been lies! Everything has been a lie. I think I’m on the brink of a malfunction, which is a serious thing for me because I haven’t ruined once since the day I was rescued from my dark prison (the box I was purchased in). I guess I’ll be writing more when I’m in a slightly better mood.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Membership...
This is something I over heard in class. Two friends were just talking about how boring their spares were.
Girl 1: I was so bored during my spare
Girl 2: Why didn’t you read a book?
Girl 1: I don’t have one (Said with laughter)
Girl 2: So, go to the library and take one out.
Girl 1: I don’t have a library membership.
Girl 2: A membership? What is it, a gym?
Girl 1: Well, what do you want me to call it?
Girl 2: A library card.
Girl 1: Oh my God, does it really matter?
Girl 2: Yeah, it does matter because it sounds stupid.
I thought this conversation was pretty funny because the one girl is overreacting about the girls choice of words. This conversation kind of reminds me of something that would be said in a sit-com or in a stupid show like family guy because what they are saying is pointless, and yet I was still drawn to listen to their argument.
While Eavesdropping, I also noticed that the two girls were opposite in personalities. Girl 1 was not much of a talker and was usually forced by girl 2 to start a conversation. Girl 2 was a lot more talkative whether it be with her voice or with the text messages she continuously sent and received in class. I found it intriguing how two girls with opposite personalities were- or seemed to be- best friends. I guess the saying "opposites attract" stands true in this situation.
Girl 1: I was so bored during my spare
Girl 2: Why didn’t you read a book?
Girl 1: I don’t have one (Said with laughter)
Girl 2: So, go to the library and take one out.
Girl 1: I don’t have a library membership.
Girl 2: A membership? What is it, a gym?
Girl 1: Well, what do you want me to call it?
Girl 2: A library card.
Girl 1: Oh my God, does it really matter?
Girl 2: Yeah, it does matter because it sounds stupid.
I thought this conversation was pretty funny because the one girl is overreacting about the girls choice of words. This conversation kind of reminds me of something that would be said in a sit-com or in a stupid show like family guy because what they are saying is pointless, and yet I was still drawn to listen to their argument.
While Eavesdropping, I also noticed that the two girls were opposite in personalities. Girl 1 was not much of a talker and was usually forced by girl 2 to start a conversation. Girl 2 was a lot more talkative whether it be with her voice or with the text messages she continuously sent and received in class. I found it intriguing how two girls with opposite personalities were- or seemed to be- best friends. I guess the saying "opposites attract" stands true in this situation.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Partying Hard
Eavesdropping is not exactly something I am good at. Usually, when I have nothing better to do with my free time in a boring class or an uneventful bus ride home, I am either listening to my iPod or reading a book. However, when I absolutely have nothing to do, I at least stumble across some interesting conversations.
The following conversation is one I heard while staring blankly at the blackboard in one of my classes. My mind must have drifted out of its usually dreamlike state and I managed to catch a few words of this conversation said by two boys.
Boy1- Yeah, so there was this girl and she was so drunk from the party.
Boy2- I have never seen someone so drunk. She was choking on her own vomit.
Boy1- We poured a bucket of water on her head to try and wake her up.
After focusing my complete attention to their conversation, I soon realized that they were describing a crazy spring break they had. It was definitely disturbing to hear that a girl was so drunk that they had to pour a bucket of water on her unconscious body. This made me wonder: Is it really fun to be insanely drunk or have the possibility of your own vomit causing your death?
This conversation was just another example of why I don't understand the fun and thrill behind drinking.
The following conversation is one I heard while staring blankly at the blackboard in one of my classes. My mind must have drifted out of its usually dreamlike state and I managed to catch a few words of this conversation said by two boys.
Boy1- Yeah, so there was this girl and she was so drunk from the party.
Boy2- I have never seen someone so drunk. She was choking on her own vomit.
Boy1- We poured a bucket of water on her head to try and wake her up.
After focusing my complete attention to their conversation, I soon realized that they were describing a crazy spring break they had. It was definitely disturbing to hear that a girl was so drunk that they had to pour a bucket of water on her unconscious body. This made me wonder: Is it really fun to be insanely drunk or have the possibility of your own vomit causing your death?
This conversation was just another example of why I don't understand the fun and thrill behind drinking.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Intelligence of Children
This is a conversation I heard between a mother with a 16 month old girl and a mother with an 8 month old girl. Both children seemed to be completely mesmerized with each other and began to try and communicate.
Mother 1- Wow, look at them. They're trying to talk to each other.
Mother 2- Yeah, kids these days are so smart.
That's true. Children these days seem to be a lot smarter. Well, with new brain stimulating Dora games and television shows teaching good behaviour, what else would one expect. However, I believe that in the end it is the parents that project morals and intelligence on to their children. This is what I though until I witnessed mother 2 giver her 16 month old daughter a stick of gum to chew. Sure, kids these days are smart, but are they smart enough to prevent their underdeveloped jaw muscles to make a wrong move and swallow that gum instead of chew it. The answer is no.
I just thought that this conversation was incredibly ironic since the mother is claiming children are smart and the parents are the ones with the stupidity.
Mother 1- Wow, look at them. They're trying to talk to each other.
Mother 2- Yeah, kids these days are so smart.
That's true. Children these days seem to be a lot smarter. Well, with new brain stimulating Dora games and television shows teaching good behaviour, what else would one expect. However, I believe that in the end it is the parents that project morals and intelligence on to their children. This is what I though until I witnessed mother 2 giver her 16 month old daughter a stick of gum to chew. Sure, kids these days are smart, but are they smart enough to prevent their underdeveloped jaw muscles to make a wrong move and swallow that gum instead of chew it. The answer is no.
I just thought that this conversation was incredibly ironic since the mother is claiming children are smart and the parents are the ones with the stupidity.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Hallway Conversation
This was a conversation I was listening to during my spare at school. Be forewarned that it is extremely disgusting and shows the lack of maturity in East York C.I.
Making my way to my friend's class, I was walking behind a couple of younger students. As I neared the classroom the girl in front of me acknowledged one of her friends who was a boy.
Girl- Hey, what's up?
Boy- Do you want to know what I think of you?
The boy, in a very juvenile attempt for some laughs, lifts his leg and farts. The girl begins to shriek and continuously says that he is disgusting. Would you blame her? He practically- for lack of a better term- went to the washroom in his pants and he still had the audacity to laugh at it. Now I know I wasn't supposed to get caught while "eavesdropping" on this conversation, but I couldn't exactly hide when the situation happened so suddenly.
Personally, I found it disgusting that somebody would actually do that in public and to their friend no less. Putting all this aside, the strangest thing about all of this is that, as I put my hand up to my nose in a desperate attempt for safety, he looked me right in the face and continued to laugh.
Making my way to my friend's class, I was walking behind a couple of younger students. As I neared the classroom the girl in front of me acknowledged one of her friends who was a boy.
Girl- Hey, what's up?
Boy- Do you want to know what I think of you?
The boy, in a very juvenile attempt for some laughs, lifts his leg and farts. The girl begins to shriek and continuously says that he is disgusting. Would you blame her? He practically- for lack of a better term- went to the washroom in his pants and he still had the audacity to laugh at it. Now I know I wasn't supposed to get caught while "eavesdropping" on this conversation, but I couldn't exactly hide when the situation happened so suddenly.
Personally, I found it disgusting that somebody would actually do that in public and to their friend no less. Putting all this aside, the strangest thing about all of this is that, as I put my hand up to my nose in a desperate attempt for safety, he looked me right in the face and continued to laugh.
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