YEAH!!!!! WOOOOHOOOOO!!!!!! THEY DID IT!!!!!
A few weeks ago had you asked me who Pedroia was or Mike Lowell I'd be like, "Who?" Somehow, during game 4 vs. the Indians, I caught the infectious Red Sox Fever, as evidenced by my symptoms of lack of sleep and great happiness.
Today I found another reason to rejoice that the Red Sox won. Our principal mandated that the teachers of our 6th period class let us out early and the teacher of our 7th period class allow us to come late so that we could all congregate in the chapel and watch the Red Sox parade projected on the wall. Good stuff, although I must admit it was more fun knowing we were missing class than actually seeing the parade.
Just a question: Am I the only one who found the sweep of the World Series to not be as much fun as a nail-biter like their games against Cleveland? I mean, the Rockies didn't stand a chance. They got smooshed like zuzus, if you know what I mean. I almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
Yeah, I know I'm a bit late in celebrating this momentous occasion. But better late than never, right?
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Busy, Busy, Busy
Pesky remains of college applications to take care of. Putting together a resumé. Sending e-mails to my doctor who is helping me procure a summer job in research. Getting ready for the SAT tests next Saturday. Keeping up with homework in Calculus, Physics, and whatnot. Trying to prepare for my black-belt test coming, hopefully, at the end of the year. And staying up late to follow the Red Sox in the World Series.
Yeah, I'd say I'm busy.
I can't wait 'till this is over, it's annoying to have so much hanging over your head. And, even worse, I got this really good idea that I wanna follow through with, but can't because of lack of time (more on that later). Well, the end is near! November 3 is the magical date for me, the day when my responsibilities slow down, in other words, when all my college applications are sent in, the Red Sox either win or lose the World Series, I've finished all the stuff I need to do to get that summer job, and I've finished my SATs. Can't wait.
Bear with me, not long now.
Yeah, I'd say I'm busy.
I can't wait 'till this is over, it's annoying to have so much hanging over your head. And, even worse, I got this really good idea that I wanna follow through with, but can't because of lack of time (more on that later). Well, the end is near! November 3 is the magical date for me, the day when my responsibilities slow down, in other words, when all my college applications are sent in, the Red Sox either win or lose the World Series, I've finished all the stuff I need to do to get that summer job, and I've finished my SATs. Can't wait.
Bear with me, not long now.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
[Sir] Zuzusmoosher
I felt like posting right now, and since I sorta wanna get some sleep I'm gonna make this short. This'll be a short post intended for the sole purpose of short-term entertainment, not my more favored fat & juicy post.
You may or may not have noticed my profile pic. Regardless, here it is. I actually made it a while before I got my blog, and before I made it I had made a simpler version with the word "SMOOSH!" and the
drawing of the boot and the little guy, nothing more. This was used for my "spray" for Counter-Strike Source, which you must have heard John talk about (if you haven't, check out this video here that he made of him pwning noobs in CSS), as my name for the game was "The Smooshinator". After getting Guild Wars I spiced it up, since I named my character "Sir Zuzusmoosher", I added the "Sir" and the explanations of the pic, and very educational explanations they are, heehee. Doesn't this picture speak wonders to your heart? This is true art, right here. (Yes, don't worry, I'm just kidding, as I said, this is just for kicks.) I've actually sent this pic to people I know from Guild Wars so that they can fully appreciate the derivation of my name. Well, since I'm referring to the legendary Sir Zuzusmo
osher of Guild Wars lore (yeah right), I might as well post a picture of him. There he is, folks, the level 20 Air elementalist/mesmer, with an awesome skill build I worked hard to make. This guy's saved Tyria from the evil undead Lich, and is currently working on stopping Elona from falling into darkness and Cantha from being overrun by a plague that creates mutated and malicious creatures. Better not make him mad, or you may find a bolt of lightning in your chest before you can say "Sir Zuzusmoosher!" Heehee.
drawing of the boot and the little guy, nothing more. This was used for my "spray" for Counter-Strike Source, which you must have heard John talk about (if you haven't, check out this video here that he made of him pwning noobs in CSS), as my name for the game was "The Smooshinator". After getting Guild Wars I spiced it up, since I named my character "Sir Zuzusmoosher", I added the "Sir" and the explanations of the pic, and very educational explanations they are, heehee. Doesn't this picture speak wonders to your heart? This is true art, right here. (Yes, don't worry, I'm just kidding, as I said, this is just for kicks.) I've actually sent this pic to people I know from Guild Wars so that they can fully appreciate the derivation of my name. Well, since I'm referring to the legendary Sir Zuzusmo
osher of Guild Wars lore (yeah right), I might as well post a picture of him. There he is, folks, the level 20 Air elementalist/mesmer, with an awesome skill build I worked hard to make. This guy's saved Tyria from the evil undead Lich, and is currently working on stopping Elona from falling into darkness and Cantha from being overrun by a plague that creates mutated and malicious creatures. Better not make him mad, or you may find a bolt of lightning in your chest before you can say "Sir Zuzusmoosher!" Heehee.Anyway, that's my little entertainment there, it was more for my benefit than it was for yours, I need a break and blogging is quickly becoming a beloved pasttime.
Friday, October 19, 2007
When the Cat's Away...
Hey! Im back on taking a little break from my normal resposibilities/activities. I haven't had time to post too much, what with homework, college applications, Karate, and Red Sox games I suddenly got interested in this post-season taking up all my free time.
Anyhow, onward to the feature presentation.
My French teacher has been out all week, due to her father's death, and we've had a substitute the past four days. And I must say, we are a very good class to be a substitute teacher for. Two juniors and one senior aren't a very rowdy bunch (in case you're wondering how the class is that small, first know that my school is very small with only 113 kids from kindergarten to 12th grade, my class--the senior class--has only five people in it, French III and French IV are optional courses, and that since there were only two in French III and me in French IV, they combined the classes.). Well, somehow today, by some details overlooked by the administration, we had no teacher, no sub, and actually no monitor whatsoever. Initial reaction: KOWABUNGA! PARTY TIME! Final realization: I got a Geography test next period I haven't studied at all for. The others came to the same conclusion. I guess that's what comes of maturity, somehow responsibilities take the place of fun. Stinkin' maturity. Well, we didn't let maturity FULLY mess up our fun, we still talked a very little, albeit enough for me to revel in my more glorious past experiences in un-mentored situations at school. It actually happens quite a bit in my school, not so much as when I was in eighth grade, but with so few teachers to go around, it does happen. Since I know you all are absolutely starving for one of my succulent, plump & juicy posts, I shall recount a few here.
In eighth grade, I had one of the best study halls ever. Eighth period, with a friend, and almost always without a monitor. My friend and I used to sit in the corner near the windows and make paper airplanes and throw them around and stuff. Good times. Anyway, it was quite chaotic, since the study hall was comprised of the 7th through 9th grade (which was actually only 16 kids at the time), and, needless to say, many rambunctious deeds were performed. I'll only write the best one (heh heh "best") here. A group of seventh-grade scumbags (heehee, that's what my friend and I called the annoying ones) were fooling around, as usual. I dont remember all the details, but one of them threw another's books out the window. As the window was not high above ground level, the seventh grader leaned out to grab the books. Oh, by the way, don't feel bad for this guy, he was the biggest scumbag of the scumbags and when he was eventually expelled in eighth grade, the others actually went up a level in decency. While he was hanging half-outside, two ninth-graders grabbed his legs and, ahem, "helped" him by half-tossing the rest of him out. Now, this guy, like the numbskull he was, didn't just climb back in through the window he was tossed out of. Oh no, he had to walk all the way around the building to the back door, and in the proccess walked in front of the windows where a teacher was teaching. The two ninth-graders responsible got detentions, and that was the end of that little episode.
This same seventh-grade scumbag was very small. So small, he could cram himself into one of our teensy-weensy half-size lockers. He liked to showcase this talent. One time, after he had stuffed himself in one and shut the door, a tenth-grader came, held the door shut, and stuck a pen in the hole where the lock would go (notice this kid is hated by all the others: there's a reason for this, it's not like he's being bullyed, HE bullyed everyone.) So the seventh-grade scumbag rattled the locker and begged to be let out, and they let him out. He never crammed himself into a locker again.
Fast-forward one year.
By this time, that kid had gotten expelled for numerous offenses despite having had repeated chances to redeem himself, which he had refused. Anyway, I'm ahead a grade in math, so I was with the now-tenth-graders in Geometry class. We had one of the most boring and most unwilling-to-explain teacher. So we would goof off alot, and a couple guys would always get in trouble. Well, this teacher also so happened to be the principal of the school (he was teaching because there was no other teacher available and because he had taught Geometry before). He was a robot, seriously. Anyway, as he was the principal, he would often come very late to class, sometimes never coming at all. One day, when he was late as usual, one of my classmates came up with the brilliant idea of speeding up the class clock so that the teacher would think the class ended earlier (a useless idea anyway since we have bells which are unconnected to the clocks to tell us when the class is over) So he took down the clock, and sped it up by about five minutes, and then went to re-hang in on the wall. The only problem was that the nail had somehoe slipped into the wall, and try as we might, the clock was un-re-hangable. And then, to top it off, the lookout (we always had one guy who'd warn us before the teacher came) suddenly uttered the urgent whisper, "He's coming!" Frantic indecision ensued. What do we do? What do we do? A last quick attempt to hang up the clock, and then we all rushed back to our seats. The teacher walks in. And then, the guy who had come up with the idea and had actually really been the only one carrying it out, said, "Mr. Martin, this clock's too fast. We need to fix it." The teacher was grateful and said he would take care of it. And we all tried our hardest not to burst out laughing.
And so, after sharing all that, let me take the time to say this before some OLD PEOPLE throw a fit about me promoting such misbehavior. I did not actually have a part in any of these stories, I was merely a spectator, enjoying the drama played out before me. I do not consider any of these as right, but I gotta say, I sure am glad I could see them.
Hope this made up for my week-long inactivity, I should be back up and blogging at my usual pace soon.
Anyhow, onward to the feature presentation.
My French teacher has been out all week, due to her father's death, and we've had a substitute the past four days. And I must say, we are a very good class to be a substitute teacher for. Two juniors and one senior aren't a very rowdy bunch (in case you're wondering how the class is that small, first know that my school is very small with only 113 kids from kindergarten to 12th grade, my class--the senior class--has only five people in it, French III and French IV are optional courses, and that since there were only two in French III and me in French IV, they combined the classes.). Well, somehow today, by some details overlooked by the administration, we had no teacher, no sub, and actually no monitor whatsoever. Initial reaction: KOWABUNGA! PARTY TIME! Final realization: I got a Geography test next period I haven't studied at all for. The others came to the same conclusion. I guess that's what comes of maturity, somehow responsibilities take the place of fun. Stinkin' maturity. Well, we didn't let maturity FULLY mess up our fun, we still talked a very little, albeit enough for me to revel in my more glorious past experiences in un-mentored situations at school. It actually happens quite a bit in my school, not so much as when I was in eighth grade, but with so few teachers to go around, it does happen. Since I know you all are absolutely starving for one of my succulent, plump & juicy posts, I shall recount a few here.
In eighth grade, I had one of the best study halls ever. Eighth period, with a friend, and almost always without a monitor. My friend and I used to sit in the corner near the windows and make paper airplanes and throw them around and stuff. Good times. Anyway, it was quite chaotic, since the study hall was comprised of the 7th through 9th grade (which was actually only 16 kids at the time), and, needless to say, many rambunctious deeds were performed. I'll only write the best one (heh heh "best") here. A group of seventh-grade scumbags (heehee, that's what my friend and I called the annoying ones) were fooling around, as usual. I dont remember all the details, but one of them threw another's books out the window. As the window was not high above ground level, the seventh grader leaned out to grab the books. Oh, by the way, don't feel bad for this guy, he was the biggest scumbag of the scumbags and when he was eventually expelled in eighth grade, the others actually went up a level in decency. While he was hanging half-outside, two ninth-graders grabbed his legs and, ahem, "helped" him by half-tossing the rest of him out. Now, this guy, like the numbskull he was, didn't just climb back in through the window he was tossed out of. Oh no, he had to walk all the way around the building to the back door, and in the proccess walked in front of the windows where a teacher was teaching. The two ninth-graders responsible got detentions, and that was the end of that little episode.
This same seventh-grade scumbag was very small. So small, he could cram himself into one of our teensy-weensy half-size lockers. He liked to showcase this talent. One time, after he had stuffed himself in one and shut the door, a tenth-grader came, held the door shut, and stuck a pen in the hole where the lock would go (notice this kid is hated by all the others: there's a reason for this, it's not like he's being bullyed, HE bullyed everyone.) So the seventh-grade scumbag rattled the locker and begged to be let out, and they let him out. He never crammed himself into a locker again.
Fast-forward one year.
By this time, that kid had gotten expelled for numerous offenses despite having had repeated chances to redeem himself, which he had refused. Anyway, I'm ahead a grade in math, so I was with the now-tenth-graders in Geometry class. We had one of the most boring and most unwilling-to-explain teacher. So we would goof off alot, and a couple guys would always get in trouble. Well, this teacher also so happened to be the principal of the school (he was teaching because there was no other teacher available and because he had taught Geometry before). He was a robot, seriously. Anyway, as he was the principal, he would often come very late to class, sometimes never coming at all. One day, when he was late as usual, one of my classmates came up with the brilliant idea of speeding up the class clock so that the teacher would think the class ended earlier (a useless idea anyway since we have bells which are unconnected to the clocks to tell us when the class is over) So he took down the clock, and sped it up by about five minutes, and then went to re-hang in on the wall. The only problem was that the nail had somehoe slipped into the wall, and try as we might, the clock was un-re-hangable. And then, to top it off, the lookout (we always had one guy who'd warn us before the teacher came) suddenly uttered the urgent whisper, "He's coming!" Frantic indecision ensued. What do we do? What do we do? A last quick attempt to hang up the clock, and then we all rushed back to our seats. The teacher walks in. And then, the guy who had come up with the idea and had actually really been the only one carrying it out, said, "Mr. Martin, this clock's too fast. We need to fix it." The teacher was grateful and said he would take care of it. And we all tried our hardest not to burst out laughing.
And so, after sharing all that, let me take the time to say this before some OLD PEOPLE throw a fit about me promoting such misbehavior. I did not actually have a part in any of these stories, I was merely a spectator, enjoying the drama played out before me. I do not consider any of these as right, but I gotta say, I sure am glad I could see them.
Hope this made up for my week-long inactivity, I should be back up and blogging at my usual pace soon.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
I Shall Return!
As you may have noticed, I haven't posted very much.
Please bear with me, I am still in the process of college application, I should be done soon and back up and blogging.
I don't really have time for a nice, juicy, interesting post as of yet, but I still have a little snippet for those of you who are so bored as to be reading this right now. Mrs. B. may find it interesting, I'm not so sure the rest of you will though. Today's karate class was really interesting. Actually, about five minutes of it were REALLY interesting, the rest was interesting but not the above-average stuff (knife defense, cool, but not the mind-boggling concepts that I find so intriguing). I'm having a hard time describing it, so I guess I'll sum it up by saying we were introduced to the concept of moving in ways the other person can't really see. Yes I know that doesn't make sense, I really still don't know squat about it myself. My karate instructor himself doesn't fully get it yet I think, although it's certain that he knows enough to use it. He described being first introduced to it when he was working with one of his old karate instructors. He said he worked four hours straight with the guy, and no matter what he did, he couldn't touch him. And the only movement he'd see was his foot turning and stuff like that. So obviously, he asked him how it was done and he had it explained to him, and today he suddenly surprised us with the same knowledge, which he condensed into five minutes.
Anyhow, right now my brain is reeling with this newfound difficult concept, making me feel again that getting my black belt will only mean that I'll begin to truly understand karate.
Sorry that this wasn't that great of a post, I really don't have time for anything better right now.
But, fret not thou faint-hearted! I shall return, with more new and interesting posts to boot!
Until then, hang in there.
Please bear with me, I am still in the process of college application, I should be done soon and back up and blogging.
I don't really have time for a nice, juicy, interesting post as of yet, but I still have a little snippet for those of you who are so bored as to be reading this right now. Mrs. B. may find it interesting, I'm not so sure the rest of you will though. Today's karate class was really interesting. Actually, about five minutes of it were REALLY interesting, the rest was interesting but not the above-average stuff (knife defense, cool, but not the mind-boggling concepts that I find so intriguing). I'm having a hard time describing it, so I guess I'll sum it up by saying we were introduced to the concept of moving in ways the other person can't really see. Yes I know that doesn't make sense, I really still don't know squat about it myself. My karate instructor himself doesn't fully get it yet I think, although it's certain that he knows enough to use it. He described being first introduced to it when he was working with one of his old karate instructors. He said he worked four hours straight with the guy, and no matter what he did, he couldn't touch him. And the only movement he'd see was his foot turning and stuff like that. So obviously, he asked him how it was done and he had it explained to him, and today he suddenly surprised us with the same knowledge, which he condensed into five minutes.
Anyhow, right now my brain is reeling with this newfound difficult concept, making me feel again that getting my black belt will only mean that I'll begin to truly understand karate.
Sorry that this wasn't that great of a post, I really don't have time for anything better right now.
But, fret not thou faint-hearted! I shall return, with more new and interesting posts to boot!
Until then, hang in there.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
One Way Ticket
I need some help.
As my mom commented on my last post, I am currently faced with the daunting task of applying for college. One college, besides the normal essay, had an "optional essay" (in other words if you want to look good you do it). Here's their instructions.
"Tufts develops leaders who will address the intellectual and social challenges of the new century, and critical thinking, creativity, practicality and wisdom are four elements of successful leadership. The following topics offer you an opportunity to illustrate these various elements. We invite you to choose one and prepare an essay of 250-400 words."
The topic question I chose was: "5. Create a short story using one of the following topics:
a) One Way Ticket b) “Do Not Push” c) Toast d) The Back Seat on the School Bus e) Something’s Not Right…"
I chose "A"
Now here's where I need your help. Here's my story, tell me if you think it meets the criteria. Keep in mind that there are 2 other essays I'm writing that are serious and that this college looks for unexpected things to show up in your essays.
Ok, here it is.
******************************************************
How could this happen?
Jack replayed the events leading to his demise over and over in his head. Once he had had it all. Now he had next to nothing.
It was his own fault, he knew. It was his choices, his terrible choices. His overriding want for pleasure had swallowed up his life, and now it had brought him down to this.
Jack walked to the closet and pulled out one of his few remaining possessions: an old rifle his father had bought for him. They used to go on hunting trips together, and this had been his eighteenth birthday present. Now feeling suddenly determined, he loaded the gun deliberately and pointed it at his head.
This was to be his one-way ticket.
It would be his path out of disgrace, his escape from poverty. It would free him from his painful memories, his reminiscences of bygone happiness. It would estrange him from his enemies, distance him from the ones he had hurt. It would carry him out of this painful existence into whatever lay ahead.
A one-way ticket into whatever lay ahead…
Jack suddenly began to doubt. Where exactly was he going, to where would he be forced to stay? Jack knew enough to reason that he was not going to be able to go and visit and return, one-way tickets don’t cover round-trips. Would it really be better over there, wherever there was?
He lowered the rifle. What exactly did he hope to accomplish by taking his life? Escape from his burdensome reality, but would it really be an escape? What if there was punishment for the wrong choices one makes in life, what if his “escape” led him into greater torment? He suddenly remembered a near-forgotten lesson his father had taught him as a child, “Running from your problems never solves anything.” At that moment, he finally realized what he had missed most of his life.
If a bad decision could force you down, a good one could help you back up.
True, he would be forced to live with some consequences. But he could live, and he could live happier than he had before. Hard work gives purpose, and he certainly had much work ahead of him. But he would make it.
He unloaded the gun and put it back in the closet. He would wait for God to give him his one-way ticket.
****************************************************
How was it?
As my mom commented on my last post, I am currently faced with the daunting task of applying for college. One college, besides the normal essay, had an "optional essay" (in other words if you want to look good you do it). Here's their instructions.
"Tufts develops leaders who will address the intellectual and social challenges of the new century, and critical thinking, creativity, practicality and wisdom are four elements of successful leadership. The following topics offer you an opportunity to illustrate these various elements. We invite you to choose one and prepare an essay of 250-400 words."
The topic question I chose was: "5. Create a short story using one of the following topics:
a) One Way Ticket b) “Do Not Push” c) Toast d) The Back Seat on the School Bus e) Something’s Not Right…"
I chose "A"
Now here's where I need your help. Here's my story, tell me if you think it meets the criteria. Keep in mind that there are 2 other essays I'm writing that are serious and that this college looks for unexpected things to show up in your essays.
Ok, here it is.
******************************************************
How could this happen?
Jack replayed the events leading to his demise over and over in his head. Once he had had it all. Now he had next to nothing.
It was his own fault, he knew. It was his choices, his terrible choices. His overriding want for pleasure had swallowed up his life, and now it had brought him down to this.
Jack walked to the closet and pulled out one of his few remaining possessions: an old rifle his father had bought for him. They used to go on hunting trips together, and this had been his eighteenth birthday present. Now feeling suddenly determined, he loaded the gun deliberately and pointed it at his head.
This was to be his one-way ticket.
It would be his path out of disgrace, his escape from poverty. It would free him from his painful memories, his reminiscences of bygone happiness. It would estrange him from his enemies, distance him from the ones he had hurt. It would carry him out of this painful existence into whatever lay ahead.
A one-way ticket into whatever lay ahead…
Jack suddenly began to doubt. Where exactly was he going, to where would he be forced to stay? Jack knew enough to reason that he was not going to be able to go and visit and return, one-way tickets don’t cover round-trips. Would it really be better over there, wherever there was?
He lowered the rifle. What exactly did he hope to accomplish by taking his life? Escape from his burdensome reality, but would it really be an escape? What if there was punishment for the wrong choices one makes in life, what if his “escape” led him into greater torment? He suddenly remembered a near-forgotten lesson his father had taught him as a child, “Running from your problems never solves anything.” At that moment, he finally realized what he had missed most of his life.
If a bad decision could force you down, a good one could help you back up.
True, he would be forced to live with some consequences. But he could live, and he could live happier than he had before. Hard work gives purpose, and he certainly had much work ahead of him. But he would make it.
He unloaded the gun and put it back in the closet. He would wait for God to give him his one-way ticket.
****************************************************
How was it?
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Comments...
I recently had some comments on Reminiscence of a Departed Friend brought to my attention. I personally find them hilarious. Check 'em out here. (the ones I'm talking about are the last few)
Heehee, I'm not fully serious in my second-to-last comment, but I couldn't resist. :D
If you have not yet read the post and would like to see what the others are commenting on, read it here. In my humble opinion, it is one of the more interesting posts, and well worth the time it takes to read it.
Heehee, I'm not fully serious in my second-to-last comment, but I couldn't resist. :D
If you have not yet read the post and would like to see what the others are commenting on, read it here. In my humble opinion, it is one of the more interesting posts, and well worth the time it takes to read it.
1 Year Later...
I recently had the opportunity to spend some time with a friend who moved to California.
We used to be in the same class. In a small school (there are currently 5 people in my class including me), you get to be very good friends with your classmates. This guy was no exception. He was really fun to have as he is extremely talented at art and very imaginative. During study halls (and, more often than not, literature class), he used to draw the coolest comics. And he used to make them excessively gory, which in a strange, perhaps sadistical, kind of way made them all the more funny. One such comic was a 24-episode series called Toothville. It spanned 8th to 10th grade if I remember correctly. To paraphrase the idea of the comic, it was basically about a lot of walking, talking teeth that did random stuff and somehow were filled with blood and guts which showed themselves profusely when they were injured or killed by nonsensical events. Good stuff. Another comic, called Rice, was about a guy who had such an intense craving for pork fried rice he stabbed another guy's eyes with chopsticks in order to get his rice. Upon arriving at the terrible realization that the guy with the rice had already eaten it all and the Chinese restaurant where the rice was purchased had run out, the guy with the craving ordered the other guy (that guy this guy: very specific ain't I? ) to barf up his rice. Instead of the rice the guy barfed up a small TV, something else I don't remember anymore, and a bunch of minature versions of the craving guy which attacked the craving guy and tore him apart.
Like I said, good stuff.
Comics weren't his only area of expertise. My friend was also the best person I knew at making movies. His movies tended to be, again, horribly violent. He even made a stop-motion animation Lego movie series. I'd make a link to the series here, but the X-treme violence (yes even with Lego guys) and the disturbing nature of the storyline hinder me. If you somehow are really interested in seeing it, ask me and I'll tell you where to go to watch it. But as a fair warning: it contains excessive, unneccessary violence, it's main character is a drug dealer, and it has a vicious ending. However it still makes you marvel at his skill at making the movie.
Oh yes, he also dabbled around with making video games.
Anyway, this talented guy was also very smart and could have done very well in school except for one thing.
He didn't care a thing about school or about anything other than what he found some enjoyment in.
His philosophy was, "Life is short, why waste it on responsibilities?"
And thus, as can be seen by the nature of his movies and comics, he was at times depressed.
And eventually, in the middle of 10th grade, he dropped out of high school.
And he moved to California where he works on video game reviews and edits commercials and such things. Last time I saw him was last December, and that was only for a day or two.
Until yesterday, when another friend and I found out he was here for a week and a half for his brother's wedding and set up a trip to the Topsfield Fair. And so we went with this guy to the fair and had a good time talking and buying overpriced food.
At least he's still the same guy after almost 1 year of not seeing him at all, a little happier it seemed but that might be due to the fact that he's finally able to be spending time with people around his age, which he never gets a chance to do in California as he lives with his older brothers and only gets to socialize with their 20-30 year old friends and co-workers.
Aside from stories about what it feels like to be high on this certain drug and on that drug and on this one (I was dismayed at the list of drugs he talked with experience about, some of which I hadn't even heard of) and stories about getting "drunk outta my mind" (his own words), I had a great time listening to him come up with hilarious and wierd situations his strong imagination actively cooks up. I'd explain what they are but for me to repeat some of them would only make them sound stupid as they aren't funny told by another person; you really have to see him telling them and hear how he says it for it to be funny.
Anyway, that's my little blurb about a friend who isn't around very much.
Who knows how long it will be until I see him again?
Aside from Monday as I might be doing something with him then. (Columbus Day is awesome! :D)
We used to be in the same class. In a small school (there are currently 5 people in my class including me), you get to be very good friends with your classmates. This guy was no exception. He was really fun to have as he is extremely talented at art and very imaginative. During study halls (and, more often than not, literature class), he used to draw the coolest comics. And he used to make them excessively gory, which in a strange, perhaps sadistical, kind of way made them all the more funny. One such comic was a 24-episode series called Toothville. It spanned 8th to 10th grade if I remember correctly. To paraphrase the idea of the comic, it was basically about a lot of walking, talking teeth that did random stuff and somehow were filled with blood and guts which showed themselves profusely when they were injured or killed by nonsensical events. Good stuff. Another comic, called Rice, was about a guy who had such an intense craving for pork fried rice he stabbed another guy's eyes with chopsticks in order to get his rice. Upon arriving at the terrible realization that the guy with the rice had already eaten it all and the Chinese restaurant where the rice was purchased had run out, the guy with the craving ordered the other guy (that guy this guy: very specific ain't I? ) to barf up his rice. Instead of the rice the guy barfed up a small TV, something else I don't remember anymore, and a bunch of minature versions of the craving guy which attacked the craving guy and tore him apart.
Like I said, good stuff.
Comics weren't his only area of expertise. My friend was also the best person I knew at making movies. His movies tended to be, again, horribly violent. He even made a stop-motion animation Lego movie series. I'd make a link to the series here, but the X-treme violence (yes even with Lego guys) and the disturbing nature of the storyline hinder me. If you somehow are really interested in seeing it, ask me and I'll tell you where to go to watch it. But as a fair warning: it contains excessive, unneccessary violence, it's main character is a drug dealer, and it has a vicious ending. However it still makes you marvel at his skill at making the movie.
Oh yes, he also dabbled around with making video games.
Anyway, this talented guy was also very smart and could have done very well in school except for one thing.
He didn't care a thing about school or about anything other than what he found some enjoyment in.
His philosophy was, "Life is short, why waste it on responsibilities?"
And thus, as can be seen by the nature of his movies and comics, he was at times depressed.
And eventually, in the middle of 10th grade, he dropped out of high school.
And he moved to California where he works on video game reviews and edits commercials and such things. Last time I saw him was last December, and that was only for a day or two.
Until yesterday, when another friend and I found out he was here for a week and a half for his brother's wedding and set up a trip to the Topsfield Fair. And so we went with this guy to the fair and had a good time talking and buying overpriced food.
At least he's still the same guy after almost 1 year of not seeing him at all, a little happier it seemed but that might be due to the fact that he's finally able to be spending time with people around his age, which he never gets a chance to do in California as he lives with his older brothers and only gets to socialize with their 20-30 year old friends and co-workers.
Aside from stories about what it feels like to be high on this certain drug and on that drug and on this one (I was dismayed at the list of drugs he talked with experience about, some of which I hadn't even heard of) and stories about getting "drunk outta my mind" (his own words), I had a great time listening to him come up with hilarious and wierd situations his strong imagination actively cooks up. I'd explain what they are but for me to repeat some of them would only make them sound stupid as they aren't funny told by another person; you really have to see him telling them and hear how he says it for it to be funny.
Anyway, that's my little blurb about a friend who isn't around very much.
Who knows how long it will be until I see him again?
Aside from Monday as I might be doing something with him then. (Columbus Day is awesome! :D)
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
"...And I Could Not."
Jeremiah 20:9-Then I said, “I will not make mention of Him,
Nor speak anymore in His name.”
But His word was in my heart like a burning fire
Shut up in my bones;
I was weary of holding it back,
And I could not.
This verse has been a huge conviction to me.
Jeremiah was called by God to be a prophet to Judah. His message was not a very popular one; surrender to Babylon or be destroyed. As a result of his faithfulness in declaring what God told him to tell the people, Jeremiah was rejected, thrown in prison, placed in a pit to die, and many other such discouraging and unpleasant treatment. In Jeremiah 20, after again faithfully repeating what God wanted him to say, Jeremiah was thrown in stocks. He was getting sick of all this. Obeying God, he had been persecuted and rejected, and still no one listened. So he says in verse 9, "I will not make mention of Him, nor speak anymore in His name." Can you really blame the guy for deciding that? I sure can't. Why keep speaking about God when no one listened and everyone persecuted you?
But Jeremiah couldn't remain silent.
He had a message, "But His word was in my heart like a burning fire," and he says, "I was weary of holding it back, and I could not."
He could not.
How could he remain silent when God had given him a message to give to the people? So what if no one listened, so what if they gave him a hard time. It was tiring Jeremiah out to hold back such a tremendous message! God had a message for him to give to the people, and he couldn't just shut up and let them go along their merry way not hearing it!
And he could not.
Jeremiah was mistreated and abused. He was rejected and he was forced to watch the people get punished for their disobedience. What a discouragement. And yet he still had to tell them. He couldn't hold it back.
We, as Christians, are a lot like Jeremiah. In one major way: God gave us a message to tell everyone.
Whether they will listen or not.
Whether they'll mistreat us or not.
Whether we are completely rejected or not.
And yet, I find myself not telling others for just that reason. They'll reject me. They won't listen. They'll give me a hard time.
But, how can I do this? I have a wonderful, liberating message. I have the good news of Jesus Christ! I have been told in the Bible the answer to life's problems, the assurance of life after death, the way to the peace that so many seek. It should hurt me. I should not be able to hold it back.
I can say that I have felt this way before when I talked with certain friends, although I have to admit I ignore it too much. And I can't say with a good conscience that I've felt enough the burning of the Gospel when it's held back. I've let friends slip by without telling them anything, even when I felt I should. I've brushed the feeling aside with the thought of how the Gospel would be recieved, not focusing on the urge to speak out about it. And at times I would refuse to even consider the thought of telling them
But, I should not.
Just like Jeremiah could not.
May we all feel the pain of the supressed Word and obey its urging.
Nor speak anymore in His name.”
But His word was in my heart like a burning fire
Shut up in my bones;
I was weary of holding it back,
And I could not.
This verse has been a huge conviction to me.
Jeremiah was called by God to be a prophet to Judah. His message was not a very popular one; surrender to Babylon or be destroyed. As a result of his faithfulness in declaring what God told him to tell the people, Jeremiah was rejected, thrown in prison, placed in a pit to die, and many other such discouraging and unpleasant treatment. In Jeremiah 20, after again faithfully repeating what God wanted him to say, Jeremiah was thrown in stocks. He was getting sick of all this. Obeying God, he had been persecuted and rejected, and still no one listened. So he says in verse 9, "I will not make mention of Him, nor speak anymore in His name." Can you really blame the guy for deciding that? I sure can't. Why keep speaking about God when no one listened and everyone persecuted you?
But Jeremiah couldn't remain silent.
He had a message, "But His word was in my heart like a burning fire," and he says, "I was weary of holding it back, and I could not."
He could not.
How could he remain silent when God had given him a message to give to the people? So what if no one listened, so what if they gave him a hard time. It was tiring Jeremiah out to hold back such a tremendous message! God had a message for him to give to the people, and he couldn't just shut up and let them go along their merry way not hearing it!
And he could not.
Jeremiah was mistreated and abused. He was rejected and he was forced to watch the people get punished for their disobedience. What a discouragement. And yet he still had to tell them. He couldn't hold it back.
We, as Christians, are a lot like Jeremiah. In one major way: God gave us a message to tell everyone.
Whether they will listen or not.
Whether they'll mistreat us or not.
Whether we are completely rejected or not.
And yet, I find myself not telling others for just that reason. They'll reject me. They won't listen. They'll give me a hard time.
But, how can I do this? I have a wonderful, liberating message. I have the good news of Jesus Christ! I have been told in the Bible the answer to life's problems, the assurance of life after death, the way to the peace that so many seek. It should hurt me. I should not be able to hold it back.
I can say that I have felt this way before when I talked with certain friends, although I have to admit I ignore it too much. And I can't say with a good conscience that I've felt enough the burning of the Gospel when it's held back. I've let friends slip by without telling them anything, even when I felt I should. I've brushed the feeling aside with the thought of how the Gospel would be recieved, not focusing on the urge to speak out about it. And at times I would refuse to even consider the thought of telling them
But, I should not.
Just like Jeremiah could not.
May we all feel the pain of the supressed Word and obey its urging.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
No Ignoring My Posts!
I was on the verge of cooking up a nice, fat & juicy post for your minds to chew on and gain nourishment from.
Then I thought, "Hmmm, not everyone has read Reminiscence of a Departed Friend yet, and that's the best one! And how are they gonna be able to look at Guys vs. Girls and leave some input on it if they fill themselves up with a new post?"
So, I thought the better of a new juicy post and instead wrote this as a reminder to those of you who have not as of yet checked out the aforementioned posts.
Trust me when I say Reminiscence of a Departed Friend is worth the time it takes to read the hefty post, and also take my word for it that Guys vs. Girls will be very interesting once more opinions are shared. (Note the fact that there are THREE of each link, no excuses for not knowing where to look!)
But, as it wouldn't be fair to those faithful few who have both read Reminiscence of a Departed Friend and have shared their thoughts on Guys vs. Girls to completely not post anything new, I shall add in a little tidbit.
If random, utterly nonsensical stupidity makes you laugh, check out this Badger and this Llama music video (both will loop endlessly unless forcefully halted). And if you think you're capable of even more randomness and stupidity, watch The Evil Strawberry. If you haven't dropped dead by the stupidity of it all yet, check out my personal favorite, Forehead Shavecut (no it has nothing to do with foreheads or shaving). There is another even more random flash cartoon, but I refuse to put a link to it here as it has some mild swears in it. If you don't care too much and feel like wasting a literal half-hour of your time, ask me for the name and I'll give it to you. I've only watched that one once and it cracked me up (other than the swears), though I felt like I had wasted a ton of time.
And, again, if you have not already done so, obey my instructions and read/comment!!!!
Then I thought, "Hmmm, not everyone has read Reminiscence of a Departed Friend yet, and that's the best one! And how are they gonna be able to look at Guys vs. Girls and leave some input on it if they fill themselves up with a new post?"
So, I thought the better of a new juicy post and instead wrote this as a reminder to those of you who have not as of yet checked out the aforementioned posts.
Trust me when I say Reminiscence of a Departed Friend is worth the time it takes to read the hefty post, and also take my word for it that Guys vs. Girls will be very interesting once more opinions are shared. (Note the fact that there are THREE of each link, no excuses for not knowing where to look!)
But, as it wouldn't be fair to those faithful few who have both read Reminiscence of a Departed Friend and have shared their thoughts on Guys vs. Girls to completely not post anything new, I shall add in a little tidbit.
If random, utterly nonsensical stupidity makes you laugh, check out this Badger and this Llama music video (both will loop endlessly unless forcefully halted). And if you think you're capable of even more randomness and stupidity, watch The Evil Strawberry. If you haven't dropped dead by the stupidity of it all yet, check out my personal favorite, Forehead Shavecut (no it has nothing to do with foreheads or shaving). There is another even more random flash cartoon, but I refuse to put a link to it here as it has some mild swears in it. If you don't care too much and feel like wasting a literal half-hour of your time, ask me for the name and I'll give it to you. I've only watched that one once and it cracked me up (other than the swears), though I felt like I had wasted a ton of time.
And, again, if you have not already done so, obey my instructions and read/comment!!!!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Guys vs. Girls
Who would you rather have upset at you, a guy or a girl?
And, oh yes, they're really, really, REALLY angry with you.
Fightin' mad.
Tough choice? Maybe not, I know my answer.
In case you need some help, allow me to break down the behavior of each when fighting. And, in case you're expecting some deep philosophical delving into this subject, let me shatter your expectations and say that what I'm about to say is very unlikely something you don't already know, I'm just observing a few points we all see. But before you stop reading after learning that you know all this, may I be so bold as to say that sometimes it's enjoyable to contemplate the obvious for the simple reason we take it for granted. (Just a side note that probably only Mrs. B. will get, that whole paragraph is what my karate instructor calls "filler crap"; the unneccessary yet neccessary stuff. No, I don't really know how that works, but there it is.)
And now for the feature presentation.
You've seen it, you know. A guy pokes fun at another guy, that guy gets annoyed and fires back a more offensive remark, the first guy gets annoyed and spits out a worse one, the other guy gets angry and yells out something worse, the first guy...you get the picture. If it escalates enough, one guy will hold a grudge and then one day when they both meet and one will say something and the other guy throws a punch and a fist-fight breaks out. Ouch.
Quickly zap to a scenario with two girls fighting.
Again, you've seen it and you know. One girl does or says something another girl doesn't like. All of a sudden you notice that that girl is acting somewhat strangely around the first girl. Then you notice that the girl starts talking badly about the first girl. Then the girl starts trying to win her friends over to her side. The other girl notices and does the same. Before you know it, you have two groups of opposing opinions. The two girls in disagreement are shunned by the opposite group. And along the way there are tears, there are slanders, there are small psychological tortures such as ignoring the other girl and ostracizing them. When they talk about the other, to quote Alexander Pope, "At every word, a reputation dies." And so on, for a very long time, until a common enemy arises or the original problem is somehow resolved. As I said earlier about a guy fight, Ouch.
Now that we've reviewed the fighting techniques of each gender, which at times are reversed, did you change your mind? Considering the fact that you probably already knew all of what I said back there, there probably couldn't have been any reason for you to do so. Personally, I would much rather get in a fight with a guy than with a girl, possibly because I am a guy and thus would deal with the situation more naturally. But I actually have a good reason for my choice. When I fight with a guy, in most cases the fight is resolved at some point, normally not very long after the start, by either a good ol' yelling match or a few good ol' fisticuffs. And when you've channeled your anger into either of those, most of the time it dies down after that and you become friends with the guy you fought with. With girls, on the other hand, the fights are stretched for as long as every drop of malice can be squeezed out, drop by stinging drop. Add that to the fact girls tend to involve innocent bystanders/close friends into the fight, feeding them 'til they're fat with that particular girl's side of the story. And then there's the way they torture the other girl mentally. I've seen girls hurt really bad because of the psychological tortures of another girl. I think it's a lot easier to stop being angry at someone when you unleash it all in one burst rather than eak it out little by little.
Anyway, that's what I think, but now I want to hear from you.
What do you think is worse? And am I right in the way I look at the fights of each gender?
Posting comments is free, so don't hold back!
And, oh yes, they're really, really, REALLY angry with you.
Fightin' mad.
Tough choice? Maybe not, I know my answer.
In case you need some help, allow me to break down the behavior of each when fighting. And, in case you're expecting some deep philosophical delving into this subject, let me shatter your expectations and say that what I'm about to say is very unlikely something you don't already know, I'm just observing a few points we all see. But before you stop reading after learning that you know all this, may I be so bold as to say that sometimes it's enjoyable to contemplate the obvious for the simple reason we take it for granted. (Just a side note that probably only Mrs. B. will get, that whole paragraph is what my karate instructor calls "filler crap"; the unneccessary yet neccessary stuff. No, I don't really know how that works, but there it is.)
And now for the feature presentation.
You've seen it, you know. A guy pokes fun at another guy, that guy gets annoyed and fires back a more offensive remark, the first guy gets annoyed and spits out a worse one, the other guy gets angry and yells out something worse, the first guy...you get the picture. If it escalates enough, one guy will hold a grudge and then one day when they both meet and one will say something and the other guy throws a punch and a fist-fight breaks out. Ouch.
Quickly zap to a scenario with two girls fighting.
Again, you've seen it and you know. One girl does or says something another girl doesn't like. All of a sudden you notice that that girl is acting somewhat strangely around the first girl. Then you notice that the girl starts talking badly about the first girl. Then the girl starts trying to win her friends over to her side. The other girl notices and does the same. Before you know it, you have two groups of opposing opinions. The two girls in disagreement are shunned by the opposite group. And along the way there are tears, there are slanders, there are small psychological tortures such as ignoring the other girl and ostracizing them. When they talk about the other, to quote Alexander Pope, "At every word, a reputation dies." And so on, for a very long time, until a common enemy arises or the original problem is somehow resolved. As I said earlier about a guy fight, Ouch.
Now that we've reviewed the fighting techniques of each gender, which at times are reversed, did you change your mind? Considering the fact that you probably already knew all of what I said back there, there probably couldn't have been any reason for you to do so. Personally, I would much rather get in a fight with a guy than with a girl, possibly because I am a guy and thus would deal with the situation more naturally. But I actually have a good reason for my choice. When I fight with a guy, in most cases the fight is resolved at some point, normally not very long after the start, by either a good ol' yelling match or a few good ol' fisticuffs. And when you've channeled your anger into either of those, most of the time it dies down after that and you become friends with the guy you fought with. With girls, on the other hand, the fights are stretched for as long as every drop of malice can be squeezed out, drop by stinging drop. Add that to the fact girls tend to involve innocent bystanders/close friends into the fight, feeding them 'til they're fat with that particular girl's side of the story. And then there's the way they torture the other girl mentally. I've seen girls hurt really bad because of the psychological tortures of another girl. I think it's a lot easier to stop being angry at someone when you unleash it all in one burst rather than eak it out little by little.
Anyway, that's what I think, but now I want to hear from you.
What do you think is worse? And am I right in the way I look at the fights of each gender?
Posting comments is free, so don't hold back!
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