Staring into the black night Piper watched as the rain threw itself against her window. Each a desperate attempt to save her and yet they missed her every time. Sadly, she followed them down the window pane with her eyes as they fell into black oblivion below. Picking up the single candle in her room she placed it on the cold window sill. It was her single hope. Searching for anything she hoped that someone would see the light. Slowly she turned around to look at herself in the mirror across the room. Looking at the reflection she muttered, “What have you done?” Walking cautiously towards the mirror she watched as the reflection put its hand to hers on the icy glass. Its delicate waist was suffocated closely by the white silk that covered it from head to foot, while white Victorian lace closely followed the pattern of the dress. The lace met in the middle of the gown where it hugged at the waist and was fastened at the chest with tiny silver buttons. The lace passed down from a miniscule waist starting to split down the middle, forming an elegant, wavy, triangle to the floor. The train pooled behind her at least three to four feet long stretching out on the elaborately carpeted floor. Quickly turning her head away from its pleading eyes, she walked behind her dressing screen, her feet sinking into the rich carpet, and took the final piece off of the mannequin. Walking once more to the reflection she placed the veil onto her head. The headpiece rested lightly on her head, elaborately beaded with delicate silver and white beads and falling to the floor with more and more embroidered white lace that shadowed her long curling hair. Her face was framed with long, red-brown curls that danced on her bare shoulders whenever she moved her head. She looked more like the perfect porcelain doll then a human. Slowly she sunk to the floor, bowing her head and covering her face with her hands. Looking up at the mirror she stared at the candle, watching it flicker and twist like the knots in her heart as she heard the grandfather clock chime.
Glancing up to the dimly lit window Danny climbed up the wooden trellis towards her room, shivering with the chill of riding through the night and sitting in the rain. The winding branches attacked his body; the damp leaves making his black boots slip against the dark trellis. Pulling himself up to the top of the window he knew that now was the time. Quietly he pulled it opened and jumped in as the wind blew rain and leaves into her room. Turning to face the room he started at the figure staring back at him through the mirror. Gasping with surprise she turned around.
“What are you doing here,” she said with a low voice ridged with anger.
“Well it seems that I’m now rescuing you,” quickly assessing the situation and rifling his blond hair. “Here”, he said taking off his dripping backpack and pulling out a wrapped package , “Get changed.” Unwrapping the wet bundle she smiled up at him and ran behind her dressing screen. Appearing perhaps a few minutes later she was dressed in loosely fitting boys clothing. Quickly she came out donning her loose baggy clothing. He couldn’t help but stare at her. Blushing she raised her eyebrows and placed her hands on her hips. “Close, but not quite,” he decided pulling off his cap and putting it on her, helping to tuck in the loose strands of her hair.
“Piper, are you ready yet?” Her father’s honey sweet yet clearly agitated voice echoed through the door. Lightly looking at the door she grinned and look backed at Danny, “Yes Father, it will just take a few more minutes.”
Moving towards the soaked window and floor she threw her leg over the window sill to start her descent, her leg almost immediately drenched by the rain. Flying towards her, he quickly grabbed her hand, “Piper, its slippery, be careful,” he warned. Giving him her best innocent look she said, “Aren’t I always,” she whispered, a sly smile now lighting her face. Swinging her other leg over she started her descent. Giving her a few minutes he took off after her. Through the open window he heard the knocking at her door, “Piper? Open this door right now young lady! You ungrateful child,” he paused for a moment his tone suddenly becoming demanding, “I gave you everything you wanted since they died. All I asked for was cooperation! You can certainly do this!” Silence permeated the air for a few seconds and they climbed further down. Suddenly the sound of creaking iron hinges cracked the air.
Looking at her wet upturned face he quickly warned her, “Piper down,”. Jumping the last few rungs she dived onto the ground, crawling past the puddles to hide by the edge of the houses wooden frame. Jumping quickly he dived over to her covering her. Holding their breath they laid in the dark wetness that surrounded them, listening as their secret was uncovered.
“Find her,” they heard a voice say near the window, “Shoot anyone with her. It’s time she paid her mother’s debt.” They could hear muffled footsteps heading away from them. “Wait,” the voice said again, “If it’s a boy bring him to me,” he voice said mockingly, “Little Daniel has a debt to be paid as well.” Feeling Piper tense he stood quickly up and pulled her to her feet. Grabbing her hand he pulled her along through the forest that now surrounded them. Slipping and sliding, Piper looked at Danny questioningly as they were joined slowly by hidden men. After minutes they finally arrived in a small clearing of trees filled with horses and more men.
“Hands in the air,” a deep voice came from behind the trees.
“Danny, what’s going on?” she yelled as they lifted their hands into the pouring rain, her voice barely being heard through a clash of thunder.
“Well my dear,” said a man coming from behind her, “You’ve just been kidnapped.” Danny suddenly turned and grabbed her waist, yanking her towards a large black stallion in the front of the group. Her screams were yet again silenced by the storm. Pulling and yanking she beat her hands against his chest, struggling to get away from him.
“Get control of her,” said the man who had come from behind her.
“Yes, sir,” he said struggling to get control of her as she bit his hand. Deftly he bent down and picked her up off the ground, throwing her over his shoulder. Still fighting, he threw her over his hard, leather saddle and hopped on behind her. Kicking his black boots into the horse’s flanks he rode off with their captive.
Groggily sitting up Piper studied her surroundings. A white canopy tent hid her from whatever laid outside. Blankets had been laid around her, tucking her into to place. Her head had been placed upon a leather saddle bag for a pillow. Pushing the covers off carefully she slid out of the makeshift bed and sat up. To her right laid tanned sheets that formed a small room. Carefully tiptoeing towards the room she peeked her hand through the makeshift door. A small change of clothes lay on the floor of the tent. Pulling the curtain back behind her she reached down and picked up the blue uniform. Deftly, she buttoned the blue shirt and tucked them into her trousers. A long blue overcoat had been left for her to put on over her clothing that reached to her knees. Rolling the loose sleeves up to her elbows and tucking her trousers into her boots. She couldn’t help but smile as she discovered the brush. Quickly she braided her curly hair putting the brush back where she’d found it. Walking out of the make-shift room she pushed open the large tent flap. A whole world filled up in front of her. The grass was still damp from last night’s rain and from the early morning’s dew. Large trees surrounded every field of her vision, turning multiple shades with the colors of autumn. Men in blue and gold uniforms flowed like ants from tents, some with rifles, and others with food. They glanced at her, some looked at her curiously, and others even smiled, but most looked at her like a worm in an apple. A hated pest, not worth their spit. Gathering her wits she took a step forward.
“I wouldn’t go too far miss. The colonel wants to see you.” Turning towards the sound Piper found herself looking at a kind looking gentleman caring a steaming cup of what appeared to be coffee. He looked to be about in his fifties with peppery grey hair, a beard and a portly belly.
“Will you take me to him sergeant?” she said giving him a smile.
“Of course miss,” he walked towards her offering his arm to escort her and handing her the warm coffee cup. They walked through the rows of tents filled with men young and old. Seeing her they startled and came out of their tent as she walked by. They finally approached the tent they had set out for. It was protected with two guards, each with multiple steel rifles on their persons. Her escort quickly nodded to one of the men who entered the large tent quickly. Appearing almost as quickly as he left he nodded back to the man. The sergeant led her through the tent flap and into the first of a separated tent where the colonel slept taking her cup with him as he left. Leaving her in there she calmly waited for whatever he had left her to do.
“Enter Miss McKenzie,” said a gruff voice from behind the canvas wall. Walking into the room her eyes widened as she saw the man standing behind the desk. Danny. Shaking her head with her mouth opened she straightened. “Piper, no.”
“How could you,” she said disbelief edging her voice like a knife. “You betrayed me,” she said, her eyebrows pulling together, her eyes searching his face for an answer.
“No, actually he didn’t,” said a voice from behind her, “Though I will admit convenience in your acquaintance. Now, Miss Piper I’m not one for words so I’ll be brief. I am Colonel Sanders, the man who organized your… kidnapping. As the daughter of General McKenzie I’m sure you’ve been privy to many meetings of classified information, which is what we want and we will get,” sitting at his desk he stared up at her, his face threatening her every move. He was young though, as young as her and Danny she supposed. Reconsidering the threat she bit her lip turning to take in her surroundings.
“I hate to disappoint you colonel. But I’m not General McKenzie’s daughter. You see, my father died when I was three. His brother married my mother, Elizabeth Ford, for her inheritance and then she conveniently died. Since then he’s treated me how he’s seen fit. We moved to the south so he could profit. He tried to marry me off for social standing. That man is not my father,” she said bringing herself back to reality and turning to face him.
“Lieutenant McAllen,” said the colonel suddenly, “Will you please leave the room.” Hesitantly Danny turned and brushed past her.
“It’s you isn’t it,” the colonel said watching for her response, “You’ve been the one leaking all the information from the south haven’t you. You’re the real Elizabeth Ford, not your mother.”
Smiling she ignored the question “So; I will make your job easy. What do you want to know?” She said smiling at the two astonished faces before her.
Sitting at the campfire late that night she stared as the flames licked at the air. She felt as if they were inside of her, inhaling her all her organs quickly, except her heart, which it slowly licked and devoured. She had done what she had dreamed of, she thought, curling her knees up closer to her chest and resting her chin heavily on them. Slowly she rocked back and forth. Now it was true, she was a traitor. The south could never stand with what she had told the Union Colonel. She had betrayed everyone she had ever known. Yet she was happy, what type of monster was she? The flames burned brighter, digging deeper.
Hearing the crunch of boots behind her she wiped the tears from eyes. Smiling nervously Danny sat beside her, the fire spelling traitor at her as it reflected off of his uniform. Returning his smile with a sadder one she quietly laughed. “So how are you,” he asked staring at the fire. Raising her eyebrows she couldn’t help but laugh at the question. Her laughter broke the tension. Shaking his head and smiling he reached into his pocket pulling out a silver chain with a diamond ring on it. “Your mother asked me to give you this when the time was right,” he said as he moved behind her and fastened the clamp, “She asked me to protect you when she was gone,” he shrugged of her stunned look as they both watched the firelight dance off of the ring. “I knew that if I suggested kidnapping you, you would be safer when the fighting begins.” He rubbed his hand through his golden hair, and quickly stood up and turned to leave.
“Daniel,” she stood and stopped him, “We’re even. Thank you.” She smiled at his grin.
“Here,” he offered his arm, “I’ll escort you to your tent.”
“Why thank you kind sir,” she said with mock formality as they turned and headed away from the fire.
“So tell me about that lovely dress you were wearing,” he laughed as she grimaced.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
What to call this...2
These are some more pictures I took. Make sure to also look at the post below (there's more)! Thanks!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Ow...( =
Well, I'm procrastinating right now, so I figured I'd blog. First of all, I hope you are all having an amazing summer! Also, if you get the chance, if you could read my latest story chapter so I could get some feedback, that would be wonderful. My latest exciting story is that due to a long process of miscommunications or something I have successfully killed my calf muscle, to the point where last night at Jazz I couldn't hardly walk. Then I got to wake up early this morning and go on a run with the XC girls...haha..I am still alive, however my new best friend is an ice bag.
So yes, that's my latest randomness.
So yes, that's my latest randomness.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Poem
Well, today was the first day of Marching Band. Yay! I only felt like an idiot a few times... eye roll, sigh, annoyance, berating. Anyways! Mr. H. read us this poem that is in the leadership handbook. I really liked it, so I've attached it. Cross country is going well. It's not easy and requires a ton of patience. I had to get a pair of shoes so I don't get too injured. Now this part is nifty. They analyze your foot! Yes. I see you in staring in wonder at the screen, but it is true! Then once they've analyzed it, they bring you over about 10 pairs of shoes that you can try on. Then, you can mix and match pairs while you run on a tread-mill and up and down the isles. So, needless to say I was kept fairly entertained for a hour and a half, and I was even rushed! They are so much nicer and help my running a lot, so luckily my foot doesn't feel like the insert has come out anymore!
ONLY A PERSON WHO RISKS IS FREE
by Author Unknown
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your ideas, your dreams,
before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To believe is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken, because the
greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The people who risk nothing, do nothing,
have nothing, are nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change,
grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes they are slaves;
they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.
-unknown
ONLY A PERSON WHO RISKS IS FREE
by Author Unknown
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your ideas, your dreams,
before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To believe is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken, because the
greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The people who risk nothing, do nothing,
have nothing, are nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they cannot learn, feel, change,
grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes they are slaves;
they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.
-unknown
Sunday, June 5, 2011
And yet another....
Chapter 2ish
Pulling into the large garage she hopped out of the car. Running towards the winding black staircase she caught Frank on his last step.
"How long," she asked the nerves evident in her eyes?
Something had gone wrong. She was soaking wet, shaking in small convulsions. Hesitating he handed her the cream folder, "30 minutes." Nodding dutifully she took the folder and turned, her wet hair spindling out behind her. She ran down the three flights of stairs, the light dimming with each level she reached. Running down the hallway, gasping in pain, she closed and leaned against the heavy marble doors that led to the all too familiar room that was made of the same heavy grey and white marble. Running over she turned on the white polished sink putting her red hands under the cold water. With silent sobs racking her body, she writhed her hands together. She watched as the color ran off to the waters safety. It would be safer there then on her hands, better there then in her frigid body. Splashing water on to her aristocratic face she looked up to the mirror. Suddenly reeling with pain her body doubled over. Grabbing a hand to her stomach she looked down, watching as she peeled the red off of her torn jacket and onto her hand. Looking up at her pale, sweating face, she knew this would be the last time she would see that same face and be free. Traitor. Peeling off her jacket she watched as the blood soaked into her black camisole. Inching out of her soaked clothes she popped into the shower, gasping as the warm water, rich with shampoo, hit her wound like burning salt. Within minutes she was out and wrapped in warm, fluffy white bathrobe that had replaced her damp clothing, glancing over her shoulder with a sardonic smile when she found the thread, needle, medical tape and scissors that had been hidden lumps in the pile. Walking into the shower once more, she pushed open the right wall that doubled as a hidden doorway. Silently walking down the mahogany floor she came to the opening at the end of the hallway. The room changed to a white tile. The room generated a bluish light from somewhere. A light that seemed to put a trance on the room from a ceiling that moved like flowing waves and pushed water down the sides of the walls. She felt the water start to gush over her bare feet, moving towards a drain in the center of the room, away from her, it ran away from her too. Assassin. Walking over to the high chair by a sink she placed the creamy file onto a tile table and watched as a large hand grabbed it, replacing it with a hair dryer, scissors and dyes.
“Back so soon my dear,” his well-known voice echoing off the walls, his hands twisting and playing with the ends of her curly, raven hair curiously. Smiling, she turned around towards his voice, “You know better, now sit down.” She could hear him rustling through the file examining the pages as he picked up the scissors, suddenly stopping. Walking over he removed the dyes from the table next to her and walked over to a small work table. She could hear the clipping sounds of his scissors, the gentle hum of his voice. She watched as she saw bits of hair flowing into the water towards the drain under her chair. Within a few minutes he was back, grabbing her hair once more, stabbing her scalp with pins.
“So, tell me my dear, do you ever expect to see yourself in that mirror,” his voice the same mocking tone. Pausing he laughed wickedly, “No, you didn’t recognize yourself today, did you? You haven’t for a long time. Tell me did you see him there? Do you see him in you? Because, I do,” his voice slowly needling into her thoughts, undoing the newest stitches of her brain.
“You’ve known all along then,” her voice a horse, demanding whisper.
“Oh, my dear, of course I’ve known. I know a lot more then you’d imagine. Though tell me, I am curious to know how you got that,” he said a gloved finger coming into her vision delicately touching her side. She could see the wonder in his voice, feel it in his finger. Pausing again at her silence, he slowly moved his hand fixing her hair, into its final place. Clamping his hands over her eyes he moved in front of her. “So much your brother,” pain sinking into his voice. Circling around to the back of her chair he lowered his hand, tightening when hers caught his, “Don’t pity me, never pity me,” she said power radiating around her body. Just as quickly she let go of his hand, her eyes flickering dark brown as the light waved through the room.
“Good luck then,” he trailed off.
“Andraya,” she said, “Andy”.
Smirking, he nodded and was gone.
Slowly she slipped out of the chair and back down the hall to the great marble room she had showered in. On the counter laid her newest clothes, a travel bag, and a mini back-pack. Slipping into her grey hoody, dark blue jeans and brown flip-flops, she reached and unzipped the small travel kit. Pulling out a contact container she put in a pair of crystal blue contacts. Glancing into the mirror she pulled her straight, cherry-brown hair layered hair that reached her shoulders into a messy, athletic-looking pony, put a bit of color on her face and then put a bit of mascara on. Rolling her eyes, she opened a cabinet and dumped the makeup into it. Standing back up she felt a pain in her side. With a sigh she grabbed the makeup and dropped it into the travel case with an icy glare. Pulling her side-sweep bangs up to the side, she laughed as she pulled out an iPod and placed it into her ears. Turning it on she placed the travel kit into the small back-pack and walked out of the room listening to an infusion of country music. Running up the black staircase she went up an extra level to the lobby.
Sitting on the couch she rose when Frank entered the room.
Looking over at her he looked confused, “May I help you miss?”
“Sure, I need my plane ticket Frank,” she laughed as his eyes widened.
Pulling into the large garage she hopped out of the car. Running towards the winding black staircase she caught Frank on his last step.
"How long," she asked the nerves evident in her eyes?
Something had gone wrong. She was soaking wet, shaking in small convulsions. Hesitating he handed her the cream folder, "30 minutes." Nodding dutifully she took the folder and turned, her wet hair spindling out behind her. She ran down the three flights of stairs, the light dimming with each level she reached. Running down the hallway, gasping in pain, she closed and leaned against the heavy marble doors that led to the all too familiar room that was made of the same heavy grey and white marble. Running over she turned on the white polished sink putting her red hands under the cold water. With silent sobs racking her body, she writhed her hands together. She watched as the color ran off to the waters safety. It would be safer there then on her hands, better there then in her frigid body. Splashing water on to her aristocratic face she looked up to the mirror. Suddenly reeling with pain her body doubled over. Grabbing a hand to her stomach she looked down, watching as she peeled the red off of her torn jacket and onto her hand. Looking up at her pale, sweating face, she knew this would be the last time she would see that same face and be free. Traitor. Peeling off her jacket she watched as the blood soaked into her black camisole. Inching out of her soaked clothes she popped into the shower, gasping as the warm water, rich with shampoo, hit her wound like burning salt. Within minutes she was out and wrapped in warm, fluffy white bathrobe that had replaced her damp clothing, glancing over her shoulder with a sardonic smile when she found the thread, needle, medical tape and scissors that had been hidden lumps in the pile. Walking into the shower once more, she pushed open the right wall that doubled as a hidden doorway. Silently walking down the mahogany floor she came to the opening at the end of the hallway. The room changed to a white tile. The room generated a bluish light from somewhere. A light that seemed to put a trance on the room from a ceiling that moved like flowing waves and pushed water down the sides of the walls. She felt the water start to gush over her bare feet, moving towards a drain in the center of the room, away from her, it ran away from her too. Assassin. Walking over to the high chair by a sink she placed the creamy file onto a tile table and watched as a large hand grabbed it, replacing it with a hair dryer, scissors and dyes.
“Back so soon my dear,” his well-known voice echoing off the walls, his hands twisting and playing with the ends of her curly, raven hair curiously. Smiling, she turned around towards his voice, “You know better, now sit down.” She could hear him rustling through the file examining the pages as he picked up the scissors, suddenly stopping. Walking over he removed the dyes from the table next to her and walked over to a small work table. She could hear the clipping sounds of his scissors, the gentle hum of his voice. She watched as she saw bits of hair flowing into the water towards the drain under her chair. Within a few minutes he was back, grabbing her hair once more, stabbing her scalp with pins.
“So, tell me my dear, do you ever expect to see yourself in that mirror,” his voice the same mocking tone. Pausing he laughed wickedly, “No, you didn’t recognize yourself today, did you? You haven’t for a long time. Tell me did you see him there? Do you see him in you? Because, I do,” his voice slowly needling into her thoughts, undoing the newest stitches of her brain.
“You’ve known all along then,” her voice a horse, demanding whisper.
“Oh, my dear, of course I’ve known. I know a lot more then you’d imagine. Though tell me, I am curious to know how you got that,” he said a gloved finger coming into her vision delicately touching her side. She could see the wonder in his voice, feel it in his finger. Pausing again at her silence, he slowly moved his hand fixing her hair, into its final place. Clamping his hands over her eyes he moved in front of her. “So much your brother,” pain sinking into his voice. Circling around to the back of her chair he lowered his hand, tightening when hers caught his, “Don’t pity me, never pity me,” she said power radiating around her body. Just as quickly she let go of his hand, her eyes flickering dark brown as the light waved through the room.
“Good luck then,” he trailed off.
“Andraya,” she said, “Andy”.
Smirking, he nodded and was gone.
Slowly she slipped out of the chair and back down the hall to the great marble room she had showered in. On the counter laid her newest clothes, a travel bag, and a mini back-pack. Slipping into her grey hoody, dark blue jeans and brown flip-flops, she reached and unzipped the small travel kit. Pulling out a contact container she put in a pair of crystal blue contacts. Glancing into the mirror she pulled her straight, cherry-brown hair layered hair that reached her shoulders into a messy, athletic-looking pony, put a bit of color on her face and then put a bit of mascara on. Rolling her eyes, she opened a cabinet and dumped the makeup into it. Standing back up she felt a pain in her side. With a sigh she grabbed the makeup and dropped it into the travel case with an icy glare. Pulling her side-sweep bangs up to the side, she laughed as she pulled out an iPod and placed it into her ears. Turning it on she placed the travel kit into the small back-pack and walked out of the room listening to an infusion of country music. Running up the black staircase she went up an extra level to the lobby.
Sitting on the couch she rose when Frank entered the room.
Looking over at her he looked confused, “May I help you miss?”
“Sure, I need my plane ticket Frank,” she laughed as his eyes widened.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Yay!!!
I just had to annoy you all right now... Les Miserables is tonight!!! Yay! Cross Country started today which on top of everything should lead to a rather busy summer. Also, Yellowstone should be interesting this year...There is still ice on the lake, but who cares!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Well...
First of all, I am so sorry this post is late. I do have an excuse...like always... I was kidnapped (willingly) and hauled off to enjoy a secluded place in Idaho and all the snow that came with it. There were happy moments, card games, raspberry shakes, M.A.S.H. marathons, reading my book by a warm toasting fire, looking a wildlife...sigh*** Okay, anyways!!
Like so many of you I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for a wonderful year of Honors English! I hope that you will all keep posting so we can keep in touch. Thank you to all of you that have commented on my blogs. You kept me going and I really appreciate all of the feedback that I got. You're all amazing! Good luck in High School! - Cassie
I haven't gotten a chance to go back and proofread a lot of this, I've been busy on the next chapters, but I really wanted to put the next chapter up for my last "official" post, so don't be too harsh! (=
Pulling into the large garage she hopped out of the car. Running towards the winding black staircase she caught Frank on his last step.
"How long," she asked the nerves evident in her eyes?
Something had gone wrong. She was soaking wet, shaking in small convulsions. Hesitating he handed her the cream folder, "30 minutes." Nodding dutifully she took the folder and turned, her wet hair spindling out behind her. She ran down the three flights of stairs, the light dimming with each level she reached. Running down the hallway she entered and closed the heavy marble doors that led to the shower room that was made of the same heavy grey and white marble. Turning on the white polished sink she put her red hands under the cold water and scrubbed. With silent sobs racking her body, she writhed her hands together. She watched as the color ran off to the waters safety. It would be safer there then on her hands. Splashing water on to her aristocratic face she looked up to the mirror. Pain shot through her, she knew this would be the last time she would see that same face and be free. Traitor, she cursed. Peeling off her clothes she popped into the shower, wrapping herself into the warm, fluffy bath towel that had suddenly replaced her clothing. Walking into the shower once more, she pushed open the right wall that doubled as a hidden doorway. Silently walking down the mahogany floor she came to the opening at the end of the hallway. The room changed to a white tile. The room generated a bluish light from somewhere. A light that seemed to put a trance on the room from a ceiling that moved like flowing waves and pushed water down the sides of the walls. She felt the water start to gush over her bare feet, moving towards a drain in the center of the room, away from her, it ran away from her too. Assassin. Walking over to the high chair by a sink she placed the creamy file onto a tile table and watched as a large hand grabbed it, replacing it with a hair dryer, scissors and dyes.
Like so many of you I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for a wonderful year of Honors English! I hope that you will all keep posting so we can keep in touch. Thank you to all of you that have commented on my blogs. You kept me going and I really appreciate all of the feedback that I got. You're all amazing! Good luck in High School! - Cassie
I haven't gotten a chance to go back and proofread a lot of this, I've been busy on the next chapters, but I really wanted to put the next chapter up for my last "official" post, so don't be too harsh! (=
Pulling into the large garage she hopped out of the car. Running towards the winding black staircase she caught Frank on his last step.
"How long," she asked the nerves evident in her eyes?
Something had gone wrong. She was soaking wet, shaking in small convulsions. Hesitating he handed her the cream folder, "30 minutes." Nodding dutifully she took the folder and turned, her wet hair spindling out behind her. She ran down the three flights of stairs, the light dimming with each level she reached. Running down the hallway she entered and closed the heavy marble doors that led to the shower room that was made of the same heavy grey and white marble. Turning on the white polished sink she put her red hands under the cold water and scrubbed. With silent sobs racking her body, she writhed her hands together. She watched as the color ran off to the waters safety. It would be safer there then on her hands. Splashing water on to her aristocratic face she looked up to the mirror. Pain shot through her, she knew this would be the last time she would see that same face and be free. Traitor, she cursed. Peeling off her clothes she popped into the shower, wrapping herself into the warm, fluffy bath towel that had suddenly replaced her clothing. Walking into the shower once more, she pushed open the right wall that doubled as a hidden doorway. Silently walking down the mahogany floor she came to the opening at the end of the hallway. The room changed to a white tile. The room generated a bluish light from somewhere. A light that seemed to put a trance on the room from a ceiling that moved like flowing waves and pushed water down the sides of the walls. She felt the water start to gush over her bare feet, moving towards a drain in the center of the room, away from her, it ran away from her too. Assassin. Walking over to the high chair by a sink she placed the creamy file onto a tile table and watched as a large hand grabbed it, replacing it with a hair dryer, scissors and dyes.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Two Moons
Ok... So right now I'm running on three hours of sleep plus what I was able to manage on the airplane so I'm going to post this instead of the second chapter of my story. Feel free to comment...hint hint. Thanks!
Walk Two Moons
“How about a story? Spin us a yarn.”
“Instantly, Phoebe Winterbottom came to mind. “I could tell you an extensively strange story,” I warned. And that is how I happened to tell them about Phoebe, her disappearing mother, and the lunatic.
Written by Newberry Medal winning-author Sharon Creech, Walk Two Moons is a fictionous tale of just that, the story of Phoebe, but more importantly a story in which through the telling of Salamanca Hiddle finds herself and the truth of her mother’s sudden departure. This book, though it may be simple, was definitely a worth-while and enjoyable read that made me really look at some points of my life differently. It was definitely worthy of a Newberry Medal. Yet, more importantly this book tales a tale for readers of all ages about the inner workings of man, and how you should never judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.
Traveling with her grandparents to find closure Salamanca Hiddle is just an average girl. But she holds a secret, a secret deeper to her heart then any blackberry stained bush, dark brown hair, or sweet raspberries. Forced to leave her one hope to proving the secret wrong she moves Lewiston, Idaho where she meets Phoebe Winterbottom, her new and yet slightly eccentric best friends. Suddenly Salamanca finds herself facing her worst fears as she watches Phoebe enter into the same predicament she once was in, but would there be as many tragic results this time? The same pain and denial? Or maybe this time she may just find a little redemption waiting for her instead at the end of the road.
The tantalizing part of this book to me was the continuous mystery that was lurking and dripping behind each work, twist and turn. But to me my favorite part was how everything could be connected to human emotions and feelings. From the famous “Don’t judge a man until you walk two moons in his moccasins,” to “ Everyone has his own agenda” My personal favorite is not a secret message "My father started chipping away at a plaster wall in the living room of our house in Bybanks shortly after my mother left us one April morning. Our house was an old farmhouse that my parents had been restoring, room by room. Each night as he waited to hear from my mother, he chipped away at that wall. On the night that we got the bad news- that she was not returning- he pounded and pounded on that wall with a chisel and a hammer. At two o'clock in the morning, he came up to my room. I was not asleep. He led me downstairs and showed me what he had found. Hidden behind the wall was a brick fireplace." I like this passage because the wall to me symbolizes ourselves. During harder times things pound on us and pound at us. Sometimes with a chisel, that slowly sinks into us, and other times with a hammer that almost seems to knock us over. When the layers are finally taken off most commonly we find something we didn't know we had, something that is far more beautiful than what is on the outside. But unfortunately, people can ignore that side and shape it into what they want to think of you. They cover you up with something they want to see and they place another plaster wall in front of you that you will eventually have to chip down and wait for it to be torn down once again.
The characters in this book I thought were perfect. The grandparents were just goofy and I felt helped to make any slow parts of the book to gain momentum. I thought it was interesting how all the adults seemed flawed. Phoebe’s father cried, Salamanca’s father took her away, the mothers left, etc. I really think that it helped the book to be told from how a girl Salamanca’s age would have really seen it.
While I can’t say my mother has ever left, one thing I can relate to is Salamanca blaming herself for her mother leaving. I do this, but it made me realize that I can’t take the blame for people making the decisions that they do, and while they may hurt me, I should move on. I also loved the quotes that were continuously left at Phoebe’s house. One of my favorites, as I already mentioned, was probably “everyone has their own agenda”. It to me ties back to the fact that we can’t hold ourselves accountable for other people’s actions.
Salamanca’s story is one of redemption and resolution, sorrow and hope. In that way it is real, the book will never seem truly fiction as it can pertain to each one of our lives individually. It is just that, our stories told through the eyes of young girl, with dark brown eyes, who loves to kiss trees, and be with those she loves the most.
Walk Two Moons
“How about a story? Spin us a yarn.”
“Instantly, Phoebe Winterbottom came to mind. “I could tell you an extensively strange story,” I warned. And that is how I happened to tell them about Phoebe, her disappearing mother, and the lunatic.
Written by Newberry Medal winning-author Sharon Creech, Walk Two Moons is a fictionous tale of just that, the story of Phoebe, but more importantly a story in which through the telling of Salamanca Hiddle finds herself and the truth of her mother’s sudden departure. This book, though it may be simple, was definitely a worth-while and enjoyable read that made me really look at some points of my life differently. It was definitely worthy of a Newberry Medal. Yet, more importantly this book tales a tale for readers of all ages about the inner workings of man, and how you should never judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.
Traveling with her grandparents to find closure Salamanca Hiddle is just an average girl. But she holds a secret, a secret deeper to her heart then any blackberry stained bush, dark brown hair, or sweet raspberries. Forced to leave her one hope to proving the secret wrong she moves Lewiston, Idaho where she meets Phoebe Winterbottom, her new and yet slightly eccentric best friends. Suddenly Salamanca finds herself facing her worst fears as she watches Phoebe enter into the same predicament she once was in, but would there be as many tragic results this time? The same pain and denial? Or maybe this time she may just find a little redemption waiting for her instead at the end of the road.
The tantalizing part of this book to me was the continuous mystery that was lurking and dripping behind each work, twist and turn. But to me my favorite part was how everything could be connected to human emotions and feelings. From the famous “Don’t judge a man until you walk two moons in his moccasins,” to “ Everyone has his own agenda” My personal favorite is not a secret message "My father started chipping away at a plaster wall in the living room of our house in Bybanks shortly after my mother left us one April morning. Our house was an old farmhouse that my parents had been restoring, room by room. Each night as he waited to hear from my mother, he chipped away at that wall. On the night that we got the bad news- that she was not returning- he pounded and pounded on that wall with a chisel and a hammer. At two o'clock in the morning, he came up to my room. I was not asleep. He led me downstairs and showed me what he had found. Hidden behind the wall was a brick fireplace." I like this passage because the wall to me symbolizes ourselves. During harder times things pound on us and pound at us. Sometimes with a chisel, that slowly sinks into us, and other times with a hammer that almost seems to knock us over. When the layers are finally taken off most commonly we find something we didn't know we had, something that is far more beautiful than what is on the outside. But unfortunately, people can ignore that side and shape it into what they want to think of you. They cover you up with something they want to see and they place another plaster wall in front of you that you will eventually have to chip down and wait for it to be torn down once again.
The characters in this book I thought were perfect. The grandparents were just goofy and I felt helped to make any slow parts of the book to gain momentum. I thought it was interesting how all the adults seemed flawed. Phoebe’s father cried, Salamanca’s father took her away, the mothers left, etc. I really think that it helped the book to be told from how a girl Salamanca’s age would have really seen it.
While I can’t say my mother has ever left, one thing I can relate to is Salamanca blaming herself for her mother leaving. I do this, but it made me realize that I can’t take the blame for people making the decisions that they do, and while they may hurt me, I should move on. I also loved the quotes that were continuously left at Phoebe’s house. One of my favorites, as I already mentioned, was probably “everyone has their own agenda”. It to me ties back to the fact that we can’t hold ourselves accountable for other people’s actions.
Salamanca’s story is one of redemption and resolution, sorrow and hope. In that way it is real, the book will never seem truly fiction as it can pertain to each one of our lives individually. It is just that, our stories told through the eyes of young girl, with dark brown eyes, who loves to kiss trees, and be with those she loves the most.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
The Jensen Family Shootout...(Blog for week of May 15)
I've already blogged for the week, but I couldn't resist doing another one, so enjoy! I would love to get some comments, critiques, and suggestions for two of my other posts- "Target Down" and "Brown". Thanks!
Waking up my body screamed at me with exhaustion, mentally and physically I hurt, but that didn’t mean anything, it hadn’t for the last few days. I’d been trying purposely to get my knees to bend backwards, I hadn’t cared if I could feel muscles ripping when I stretched, but then again I never really do. I was bruised mentally and physically from a prior experience this week, but it wasn’t going to matter, I would not let it. I went back into the piano room where I had departed only to go to bed last night, and to take small breaks. I played the same things I have been for the past few months, after today I wouldn’t have to play most of them again. Quickly I hopped into the shower and then got dressed into my long red, Russian looking skirt and DownEast top and screwed my hair into a tight bun, and pulled my bangs of to the side. I managed to get two pieces of bacon down, brushed my teeth, grabbed my music, and went to the car. Hopping in I could feel some nerves trying to twitch through, but mostly I’m laughing with my mom about how desperate my whole family is for this to be over. Winding up the road to the browning center it’s hard for me to realize that I won’t be getting on the stage this time. That I wouldn’t be running downstairs into a crammed dressing room and putting on my point shoes. Instead I hike my skirt up and climb the stairs so I can go check in and then head up the next level to be seated in front of Practice Room number 2, which is closest to the end of the hall by the window. I have multiple memories of that window, both from the inside and outside and so I focus on them. I’m a bit nervous now, but mostly I’m just happy about how nice everyone is, that I finally get to perform, that this will be over with, and for what was coming later that afternoon. They send a little girl to sit with me who didn’t receive a time. They want to slip her in front of me and I enthusiastically agree to the arrangement. Silently laughing to myself that this eight year old is the epitome of fake confidence and teenager knows best, but she calms me down and silently goes through her folder and looks at her sight reading piece copying me. As the student comes out of the room, though I failed to see his expression, I stand up and bring the girl with me. Push comes to shove and they won’t let her slip in front of me, but that’s just because performing in front of your mother on level 1 would probably not be fair. So I wait and then go in after it’s all cleared up. I do my thing, I screw up a bit, I do really well for another bit. I sit there and laugh and talk with the judge, and then try to shake the nerves out of my fingers. Next comes sight reading and I head down the stairs laughing with my mom. I head to the same place as last year, a hallway by the lobby, and go over my piece. Someone walks into the hall and I look up to see if I know them. I don’t. They’re looking for a Taekwondo competition so I “unselfishly” agree to be their guide. I lead them downstairs. I don’t know where it is there looking for, but I knew that after hanging around this basement for eight years I probably could figure it out. I need to get away, and I’m always happy to go down there. But, I couldn’t find it, so I find my mom and pass them off to her. They found it eventually (they were in the wrong building). I find my friend and we chat. One after the other we play our piece and then we both leave. Now comes the fun part.
The Jensen Family shootout at the Mantua range. It was my first time shooting and I was ecstatic. My favorite was the AR 15, the big black one that I’m sitting down with. I also shot the 22 and apparently did well with that, but it wasn’t as much fun. The other fun one was the Kazool (spelled totally wrong), which was at one point the most powerful pistol in the world. Originally my cousin and I decided that it was a “we are too small to shoot gun”, but we did it anyways and after her experience that my grandpa decided he needed to hold me (and I am grateful, also there was another gun, but I can’t recall the name)! It was a ton of fun and a great rest of the day with my family!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Brown
It’s all I’ll ever see, staring in the mirror, dancing curiously. I grab the pink hair brush, though I would really prefer blue, and grab my tangled, curly, brown, gold, and now coppery red mess. The brown guides each of my strokes, makes me mad when it laughs at the lumps, upsetting me to the point where I know that I’m going to have to fix unless I want blue and green laughing at me at school.
Out of all those colors, blue, green, hazel, I get stuck with brown. I always will, I guess there’s no point to changing now. But, I like the brown, how it hides me, it shields me, it guides my steps, the steps of a small and little child ascending from the darkened night into my father’s arms.
Brown’s my best friends; they’ve seen everything I try hide. Yet, the traitorous things just love to tell others my secrets. Okay, they only give subtle little ones. But those who I don’t want to tell are the only ones they show. But without them, I’d be lost.
I’d lose my rough pine oaks, and soft fluffy dew-dripped grass, my teasing pine needles as I run up a trail. The squirrels as they giggled and said hello, to the hide and seek birds that play in the trees. So, maybe it’s okay if I let them tell. I dip my hand into the drawer and let go of wrong colored brush, only to pick up a pair of Native American earrings that the brown decided I should wear. Ouch! I gasp, and of course the brown flinched as well as I tried to wriggle the hoops into my almost closed ear.
Then again maybe it wasn’t that bad. It was always there, the brown knew exactly how I felt. They were the only ones who had seen me when I lost my dreams. They saw me that morning and I knew how it looked. That bleeding brown, wincing and plummeting to the ground, gasping, silently screaming as I take that first morning step. They saw me when I was broken, shook, and torn to small, individual pieces for my friends to each boast over. They’d seen me fall, and scream, and kick.
In return it had given me the faces that I needed to see, produced my loving mother. They give me the ones that I love. My brother, my sister, my mom, my dad, my grandpa and my grandmas. Maybe one day they’d let me see the man I hadn’t seen for years. The man that death stole from me, brown knows that I want him back.
It gave me my music, sweet as tears. My dance, my one true love. They give me the stage, where I truly belong. Glancing in the mirror I look back at them. I love them. Grabbing the mascara I figure I’ll let them shine, despite the annoyance I feel putting it on. They deserve it, to be crowned a bit. I quickly put the black cylinder back in my drawer and look up. Both of us smile with approval. Taking one last glance I know they’ll be with me, betraying all my secrets of the day, laughing and crying. Then quickly I run out the door, into the Honda, out of my cul-de-sac when I hear my mother call, “Little Miss Brown Eyes, it’s time to go.”
Out of all those colors, blue, green, hazel, I get stuck with brown. I always will, I guess there’s no point to changing now. But, I like the brown, how it hides me, it shields me, it guides my steps, the steps of a small and little child ascending from the darkened night into my father’s arms.
Brown’s my best friends; they’ve seen everything I try hide. Yet, the traitorous things just love to tell others my secrets. Okay, they only give subtle little ones. But those who I don’t want to tell are the only ones they show. But without them, I’d be lost.
I’d lose my rough pine oaks, and soft fluffy dew-dripped grass, my teasing pine needles as I run up a trail. The squirrels as they giggled and said hello, to the hide and seek birds that play in the trees. So, maybe it’s okay if I let them tell. I dip my hand into the drawer and let go of wrong colored brush, only to pick up a pair of Native American earrings that the brown decided I should wear. Ouch! I gasp, and of course the brown flinched as well as I tried to wriggle the hoops into my almost closed ear.
Then again maybe it wasn’t that bad. It was always there, the brown knew exactly how I felt. They were the only ones who had seen me when I lost my dreams. They saw me that morning and I knew how it looked. That bleeding brown, wincing and plummeting to the ground, gasping, silently screaming as I take that first morning step. They saw me when I was broken, shook, and torn to small, individual pieces for my friends to each boast over. They’d seen me fall, and scream, and kick.
In return it had given me the faces that I needed to see, produced my loving mother. They give me the ones that I love. My brother, my sister, my mom, my dad, my grandpa and my grandmas. Maybe one day they’d let me see the man I hadn’t seen for years. The man that death stole from me, brown knows that I want him back.
It gave me my music, sweet as tears. My dance, my one true love. They give me the stage, where I truly belong. Glancing in the mirror I look back at them. I love them. Grabbing the mascara I figure I’ll let them shine, despite the annoyance I feel putting it on. They deserve it, to be crowned a bit. I quickly put the black cylinder back in my drawer and look up. Both of us smile with approval. Taking one last glance I know they’ll be with me, betraying all my secrets of the day, laughing and crying. Then quickly I run out the door, into the Honda, out of my cul-de-sac when I hear my mother call, “Little Miss Brown Eyes, it’s time to go.”
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Target Down
I've added this to the Discussion board and have changed it a bit on there.
“Target down,” she said with her eyes still glistening. Taking a step backward she looked down and gently nudged the body with her stiletto, leather boots. Still breathing. Of course he was she thought, shaking herself out of her trance. It was a perfect shot, close enough to the nerve to keep him alive, but enough so he wouldn’t be able to play football with his little nephews for months, maybe years. Lowering her pistol with a steady hand she looked at her hands wet with his blood. Her heart pace lowered and her breathing rate, well, she mused, it never changed. This was her job, why should it bug her. Subtly glancing around the underground parking lot she scanned for any sign of the incoming whirlwind. Flipping her rich chocolate hair over her shoulder she bent down and took a small needle out of her jacket pocket. Quickly she injected the small chip into his shoulder.
“Kat, we got trouble,” the small listening device whispered in her ear. Touching her long, blue painted fingernail to it she looked down with sad crystal blue eyes on her fiancées face. He hadn’t deserved this. He was handsome with dark honey-brown hair and luscious eyes that matched. When she met his parents she had heard them talking in another room about how they were the perfect match. They both loved sports, especially horseback riding, and she fit in perfectly with the family. Her 6 foot structure had made it so she was the first girl he had not made dwarfed with his 6’4 frame, and personality wise they were the best match. The best one the company had ever put her with. Would he even remember me? Would he be sad he lost me? Of course he would remember her, but not as the person who had just ruined his life. He would know that she had been shot and killed by the same man that had attacked him. They’d give him back his million dollar ring, act sorry, and it’d be done with. One more job taken care of.
“Kat?”
Snapping back to life she took one more glance at the body with her dark brown eyes, disgust evident in her raised eyebrows.
“Send them in.”
Hopping into the car she knew she had five minutes at the most. Breaking into the Ferrari was any but a challenge however hotwiring this thing would be. If you even could. The car had a hand touch memory on the steering wheel and while playing fiancée to a rich, handsome, bachelor had its perks- driving the car wasn’t one of them. Throwing the door open she walked in frustrated to the trunk. Picking the lock would take about ten seconds she figured pulling her tool from the half of her hair that had a bun in it. Once opened, she searched the trunk to find her options. Choosing her “weapon” she grabbed the crowbar.
“Maddy,” the husky voice moaned, “Maddy, where are you?”
She froze, that was one thing she’d never get used to. The lies, always the lies, only this one she had almost believed herself.
“Sir, she’s here,” the receptionist said as he walked into the neatly furnished room. The man who sat anxiously behind the desk glanced up, and then checked his watch.
“She’s getting faster”, he said with a smile as he straightened his grey suit coat and practically ran to the stairwell outside his office. The receptionist simply smiled. The director was only like that with Maddy. With any other agent he would have finished what he was doing and meandered over to talk to them in about an hour. Maddy on the other hand was a different story. The boss had been waiting for her to return since she’d left on her “date” an hour and a half ago. Of course he’d never admit that to her, but it was fun to watch. Maddy had that effect on most people.
“Target down,” she said with her eyes still glistening. Taking a step backward she looked down and gently nudged the body with her stiletto, leather boots. Still breathing. Of course he was she thought, shaking herself out of her trance. It was a perfect shot, close enough to the nerve to keep him alive, but enough so he wouldn’t be able to play football with his little nephews for months, maybe years. Lowering her pistol with a steady hand she looked at her hands wet with his blood. Her heart pace lowered and her breathing rate, well, she mused, it never changed. This was her job, why should it bug her. Subtly glancing around the underground parking lot she scanned for any sign of the incoming whirlwind. Flipping her rich chocolate hair over her shoulder she bent down and took a small needle out of her jacket pocket. Quickly she injected the small chip into his shoulder.
“Kat, we got trouble,” the small listening device whispered in her ear. Touching her long, blue painted fingernail to it she looked down with sad crystal blue eyes on her fiancées face. He hadn’t deserved this. He was handsome with dark honey-brown hair and luscious eyes that matched. When she met his parents she had heard them talking in another room about how they were the perfect match. They both loved sports, especially horseback riding, and she fit in perfectly with the family. Her 6 foot structure had made it so she was the first girl he had not made dwarfed with his 6’4 frame, and personality wise they were the best match. The best one the company had ever put her with. Would he even remember me? Would he be sad he lost me? Of course he would remember her, but not as the person who had just ruined his life. He would know that she had been shot and killed by the same man that had attacked him. They’d give him back his million dollar ring, act sorry, and it’d be done with. One more job taken care of.
“Kat?”
Snapping back to life she took one more glance at the body with her dark brown eyes, disgust evident in her raised eyebrows.
“Send them in.”
Hopping into the car she knew she had five minutes at the most. Breaking into the Ferrari was any but a challenge however hotwiring this thing would be. If you even could. The car had a hand touch memory on the steering wheel and while playing fiancée to a rich, handsome, bachelor had its perks- driving the car wasn’t one of them. Throwing the door open she walked in frustrated to the trunk. Picking the lock would take about ten seconds she figured pulling her tool from the half of her hair that had a bun in it. Once opened, she searched the trunk to find her options. Choosing her “weapon” she grabbed the crowbar.
“Maddy,” the husky voice moaned, “Maddy, where are you?”
She froze, that was one thing she’d never get used to. The lies, always the lies, only this one she had almost believed herself.
“Sir, she’s here,” the receptionist said as he walked into the neatly furnished room. The man who sat anxiously behind the desk glanced up, and then checked his watch.
“She’s getting faster”, he said with a smile as he straightened his grey suit coat and practically ran to the stairwell outside his office. The receptionist simply smiled. The director was only like that with Maddy. With any other agent he would have finished what he was doing and meandered over to talk to them in about an hour. Maddy on the other hand was a different story. The boss had been waiting for her to return since she’d left on her “date” an hour and a half ago. Of course he’d never admit that to her, but it was fun to watch. Maddy had that effect on most people.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Book Review
“At least once in his career, every fire man gets an itch. What the books say, he wonders. Oh, to scratch that itch, eh? Well, Montag, take my words for it, I’ve had to read a few in my time, to know what I was about, and the books say nothing! Nothing you can teach or believe. They’re about nonexistent people, figments of imagination, if they’re fictions. You come away lost.”
“Well, then, what if a fireman accidentally, really not intending anything, takes a book home with him?”
“A natural error. Curiosity alone. We don’ get overanxious or mad. We let the fireman keep the book twenty-four hours. If he hasn’t burned it by then, we simply come burn it for him.” “Of course.”
In a world where everything is turned around, where education means nothing, where living is a waste of time famed author Ray Bradbury brings to life his science fiction novel, Fahrenheit 451. Written for all ages Fahrenheit brings to life the scary possibilities of what could evolve in to life as we know it. To me this book was fascinating; it truly was scary to see what could happen to life as we know it in a way that is not totally unrealistic. A world where the parlors talk, your ears are filled with your ancestors, and where your eyes glow as you see the pages burn at 451 degrees Fahrenheit.
Guy Montag is just your everyday firefighter. His life revolves around burning the books of criminals, dodging the Mechanical Hound and then going home to his pessimistic wife who worships “her relatives”. That is until he meets a girl who changes everything. Is the world more than this? Can we ever go back to a life where death does not live next door? But soon someone must change and lead the revolution, a man who will go forward from the flames while others wait in the shadows.
I found Fahrenheit 451 to be an amazing book. While I really can’t say I overly enjoyed every part of it the mere implications that were made and the connections to today’s society startled me. It was so true, in every way, shape and form. One thing that made this so much more believable was the characters. They seemed alive. They had a quick and easy personality to find and the dialogue that went on between the characters and even when they talked to themselves made you feel that people like this could actually exist, it wasn’t just Science Fiction and that to me is what makes a book come alive. Characters with depth, people that have deeper feelings than well, just whatever. I loved the contrast between Montag and Mildred it was shallow versus deep and it was a great way to recognize what had happened to the society.
If this book reminded me of any book it would probably be the Hunger Games. It was one of those books where you realize the sad mentality of humans. For example, watching people die for entertainment. How sad is this? Yet, we have “reality” TV, which is basically includes people that have strong emotions towards the other, such as hate, and then we sit down and watch them for fun.
If I had to choose one part of this book that seriously ruffled my feathers, it would be the profanity. Sometimes you had to “bleep” out the swearing so much in one sentence that you didn’t understand it, and then only four out of eight words were not a form of profanity. However, to lay my feathers back down again I loved the continual guessing. How you never knew what was coming next and you could continuously guess and see if you were right. Also I loved how the book would go inside the character’s brain and dig into the psychological physique so to speak of that character.
Now my theme I found in the book. It probably isn’t one that a lot of people will look at, but it was the need for someone to step forward. People like Gandhi, the military, and even the person who goes and tells the bully to stop in your school. They have the mentality that something needs to be accomplished and they’re willing to do whatever takes no matter how it affects them. I would love to have this quality. To go forward when others hesitate, to fight for what you believe in. There’s a quote that says, “If you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything,” and isn’t that so true. We all need to stand up for something because when it comes down to the truth our beliefs are about all that we have. That’s what I admired about Montag, he is the type of man who can help change the world, and that’s something what we can all take out of this book. We all need to be the leader, the one to stand out and fight against what we know to be unjust. No matter who you are you have the ability to change your corner of the world. Just step out.
“Well, then, what if a fireman accidentally, really not intending anything, takes a book home with him?”
“A natural error. Curiosity alone. We don’ get overanxious or mad. We let the fireman keep the book twenty-four hours. If he hasn’t burned it by then, we simply come burn it for him.” “Of course.”
In a world where everything is turned around, where education means nothing, where living is a waste of time famed author Ray Bradbury brings to life his science fiction novel, Fahrenheit 451. Written for all ages Fahrenheit brings to life the scary possibilities of what could evolve in to life as we know it. To me this book was fascinating; it truly was scary to see what could happen to life as we know it in a way that is not totally unrealistic. A world where the parlors talk, your ears are filled with your ancestors, and where your eyes glow as you see the pages burn at 451 degrees Fahrenheit.
Guy Montag is just your everyday firefighter. His life revolves around burning the books of criminals, dodging the Mechanical Hound and then going home to his pessimistic wife who worships “her relatives”. That is until he meets a girl who changes everything. Is the world more than this? Can we ever go back to a life where death does not live next door? But soon someone must change and lead the revolution, a man who will go forward from the flames while others wait in the shadows.
I found Fahrenheit 451 to be an amazing book. While I really can’t say I overly enjoyed every part of it the mere implications that were made and the connections to today’s society startled me. It was so true, in every way, shape and form. One thing that made this so much more believable was the characters. They seemed alive. They had a quick and easy personality to find and the dialogue that went on between the characters and even when they talked to themselves made you feel that people like this could actually exist, it wasn’t just Science Fiction and that to me is what makes a book come alive. Characters with depth, people that have deeper feelings than well, just whatever. I loved the contrast between Montag and Mildred it was shallow versus deep and it was a great way to recognize what had happened to the society.
If this book reminded me of any book it would probably be the Hunger Games. It was one of those books where you realize the sad mentality of humans. For example, watching people die for entertainment. How sad is this? Yet, we have “reality” TV, which is basically includes people that have strong emotions towards the other, such as hate, and then we sit down and watch them for fun.
If I had to choose one part of this book that seriously ruffled my feathers, it would be the profanity. Sometimes you had to “bleep” out the swearing so much in one sentence that you didn’t understand it, and then only four out of eight words were not a form of profanity. However, to lay my feathers back down again I loved the continual guessing. How you never knew what was coming next and you could continuously guess and see if you were right. Also I loved how the book would go inside the character’s brain and dig into the psychological physique so to speak of that character.
Now my theme I found in the book. It probably isn’t one that a lot of people will look at, but it was the need for someone to step forward. People like Gandhi, the military, and even the person who goes and tells the bully to stop in your school. They have the mentality that something needs to be accomplished and they’re willing to do whatever takes no matter how it affects them. I would love to have this quality. To go forward when others hesitate, to fight for what you believe in. There’s a quote that says, “If you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything,” and isn’t that so true. We all need to stand up for something because when it comes down to the truth our beliefs are about all that we have. That’s what I admired about Montag, he is the type of man who can help change the world, and that’s something what we can all take out of this book. We all need to be the leader, the one to stand out and fight against what we know to be unjust. No matter who you are you have the ability to change your corner of the world. Just step out.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Science Olympiad
Well before you read my biology report on Science Olympiad I just want to tell you that I got my center splits in jazz the other day!!! Yay!!! Just wanted to tell you (= ....Now the question, can I do them again...
State Science Olympiad is always an exciting and chaotic day for everyone on the team. It consists of waking up early on a Saturday morning, hopping on a bus with about 30 other sleep-crazed lunatics, and driving to Weber State where we will reside until about eight or nine o’clock. I have five events this year though only four of them were medaling events. They include Disease Detectives, Microbe Mission, Experimental Design, Anatomy, and Dynamic Planet (non-medaling).
Once you get to Weber State the first task is to set up home base, find where all your events are, and then head to your events or study until you have an event. My fist event was Microbe Mission. Microbe Mission is an event that is based on biology. You have to know different parts of the microscope, what microscope would do best analyzing a certain microbe, measurements and conversions, different microbes and their uses, fungi, bacteria, algae, etc. This was one of two events I was especially worried about. We hadn’t had a lot of training, and the test at the regional competition was based more on guessing skills then what was on the training guide. When we showed up and started the test it went pretty well, but there was definitely stuff we didn’t know, which to me killed any chance of medaling, but it was time to go on to the next event, Experimental Design.
Experimental Design was the other event I was worried about. It is completely up in the air. You have 50 minutes to design and make a write up on our experiment. We were a disaster at Regional and hadn’t had a good practice since. However, our topic seemed to go well and we had a massive write-up. Everything went as smoothly as it could when you consider all the details, but it was still rough and took almost the full 50 minutes to complete, but again time to rush on to our next event which was Anatomy.
I was not worried about anatomy, in fact I was ecstatic. I would probably get to see my first cadaver, and I had amazing coaches for it! We finished all our stations early, got to stay as long as we wanted at the cadaver (we named him Freddy) and then headed on to the next event which was Disease Detectives. Again, Disease Detectives was not a worry. We had the amazing coach we needed and practice time. We finished the event rather quickly which gave me adequate time to go back and go over what I wanted to. We usually had time to run back to the home room between these two events, and then I went to my last event, the non-medaling event of Dynamic Planet. I’d taken first at this one at district with a different partner (which was a miracle saying we hadn’t studied it), but now we’d studied and the whole test was on what my partner was in charge of, and she took over. I took the math and she did the topographic maps and that finished my events for the day. I then got to roam around campus until the awards assembly.
Now the rest is history, after tighter competition than ever, Fairfield dominated and now we get to go to nationals. For me it was a bitter win, as dramatic as that sounds, but the time, work and stress paid off and now we’re going to Madison, Wisconsin!
State Science Olympiad is always an exciting and chaotic day for everyone on the team. It consists of waking up early on a Saturday morning, hopping on a bus with about 30 other sleep-crazed lunatics, and driving to Weber State where we will reside until about eight or nine o’clock. I have five events this year though only four of them were medaling events. They include Disease Detectives, Microbe Mission, Experimental Design, Anatomy, and Dynamic Planet (non-medaling).
Once you get to Weber State the first task is to set up home base, find where all your events are, and then head to your events or study until you have an event. My fist event was Microbe Mission. Microbe Mission is an event that is based on biology. You have to know different parts of the microscope, what microscope would do best analyzing a certain microbe, measurements and conversions, different microbes and their uses, fungi, bacteria, algae, etc. This was one of two events I was especially worried about. We hadn’t had a lot of training, and the test at the regional competition was based more on guessing skills then what was on the training guide. When we showed up and started the test it went pretty well, but there was definitely stuff we didn’t know, which to me killed any chance of medaling, but it was time to go on to the next event, Experimental Design.
Experimental Design was the other event I was worried about. It is completely up in the air. You have 50 minutes to design and make a write up on our experiment. We were a disaster at Regional and hadn’t had a good practice since. However, our topic seemed to go well and we had a massive write-up. Everything went as smoothly as it could when you consider all the details, but it was still rough and took almost the full 50 minutes to complete, but again time to rush on to our next event which was Anatomy.
I was not worried about anatomy, in fact I was ecstatic. I would probably get to see my first cadaver, and I had amazing coaches for it! We finished all our stations early, got to stay as long as we wanted at the cadaver (we named him Freddy) and then headed on to the next event which was Disease Detectives. Again, Disease Detectives was not a worry. We had the amazing coach we needed and practice time. We finished the event rather quickly which gave me adequate time to go back and go over what I wanted to. We usually had time to run back to the home room between these two events, and then I went to my last event, the non-medaling event of Dynamic Planet. I’d taken first at this one at district with a different partner (which was a miracle saying we hadn’t studied it), but now we’d studied and the whole test was on what my partner was in charge of, and she took over. I took the math and she did the topographic maps and that finished my events for the day. I then got to roam around campus until the awards assembly.
Now the rest is history, after tighter competition than ever, Fairfield dominated and now we get to go to nationals. For me it was a bitter win, as dramatic as that sounds, but the time, work and stress paid off and now we’re going to Madison, Wisconsin!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Future and a fun blog idea...
So lately I’ve noticed a lot of discussion on what we want to do when you grow up. Well, a lot of it depends on High School turns out, but basically I have decided to some extent (by next week I'll probably have changed my mind). I basically have 3 colleges I want to go to and 3 fields I want to go in to. The 1st college is practical, the 2nd is a little further out there, and the 3rd is somewhere and something that very few people even know I’m interested in. If I could choose it would definitely be the third college and field, but it most likely won’t happen due to the overabundant randomness of it. Anyways, enough of my "theoreticalness"… Oh, and I want to go on a mission (Hopefully foreign speaking!). By the time I get off my mission and finish all of my schooling (which will most likely take a long time) I will probably be in my later twenties (about 26, well slight exaggeration). A problem though is that all my professions may include, and I want them to, traveling. This is the biggest problem when it comes to the next part. After I get out of schooling I plan to get married once I find the "right guy". Now here comes the part I’ve heard a lot about. I want to have a profession and a family. Most people would say that that will never happen but I don’t believe that you should have to give up everything once you get married. Yes, I know that in my religion you are to bring up your children, and I’m definitely planning on it, but I don’t want to give up all my dreams for it. Now quite a few people tell me that am just not the way it’s supposed to be. Believe me, I get it a lot. A lot of people are convinced that as a girl it just shouldn’t be like that, and who knows, it probably won’t be anything like I imagine it now. It all depends on what’s been planned in a far higher pace. Now all of this is based on your personal opinion, I can appreciate it if it goes against mine, and honestly please comment and tell me your opinions because I’d love to hear them. One thing that my sister and I have noticed is that a lot of this coincides with how you have been raised. My mother, some of my aunts, both grandma’s, and once their children were older almost all other aunts have worked. I’ll admit that I plan to go a little more professional than they did, but with a little faith hopefully it can work out.
Ok, so here is a fun idea you can use for your blog. Here's a random picture, that without background you don't know the who, what, where, when, or why. Using this picture or others make your own story up about what happened here. (=
Ok, so here is a fun idea you can use for your blog. Here's a random picture, that without background you don't know the who, what, where, when, or why. Using this picture or others make your own story up about what happened here. (=
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Haha...
So I'm watching Phantom of the Opera, and whenever it gets to the dramatic music and symbol crashes it keeps reminding me of the scream I did in band last year when we played it. The jumps I got from people were priceless. Oh well, that's randomness for you.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Grey Wolf
The Grey Wolf (Canis lupus) is an endangered species that lives mostly in North America, Canada, Mexico, some of Europe, Asia, the Middle East and Russia, with subspecies of the wolf living in those same countries also.
The grey wolf is commonly confused with its relative the coyote. It is the largest member of its family and its color is anywhere from a grizzled gray, black to all-white. Females tend to be smaller than the average male. They have broad faces with a big muzzle, round short ears shaped like triangles with paws approximately 4 by 5 inches. They are also said to have a lower and long sounding growl. Males are 26 to 32 inches at the shoulders and are around 55 to 115 pounds. They give birth to litters of four to seven pups in April and May, with a general gestation period of about 2-3 months.
Wolves travel in packs (which is another variation from coyotes). They travel under the Alpha Male and Female, which are the only members of the pack that can mate. The Alpha Male and Female positions are chosen by who’s the best fighter. The subdominant wolves are forced to show their position by crouching and lowering their tails, while the dominant wolf can prance around, and play with them as they please.
The Grey Wolves habitats are tundra’s, forests, deserts, plains and mountains. This is reason why Alaska, Idaho, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Wisconsin and Wyoming are the ideal spots from them.
Wolves are carnivores (they eat only meat). They tend to usually thrive on larger animals, but will eat smaller animals if needed. Wolves usually kill and eat the animals that are the easiest to capture, therefore weeding out the weak parts in herds, making them stronger. This relationship with the prey is the most evident when Wolves were taken out of Yellowstone National Park. The elk and moose population along with coyotes and other animals started to grow out of control, the bighorn sheep’s pink eye disease was spreading, and food sources were rapidly depleted, however when they returned the wolves to the environment, things eventually snapped back into place for the rest of Yellowstone.
For years wolves were poached. At some times they were poached for their pelts, game, and due to them eating livestock. They were cruelly punished for this crime. Not only were they shot, they were trapped, or trapped then would have gasoline poured on them and then set fire to. Bounties were sent forth to try to get more people to hunt them. This started for the Grey Wolves (other wolf bounties for other species were or could have been set earlier or later) in 1630 in Massachusetts, and later the Unites States paid Indians with 3 quarts of wine or a bushel of corn, for one wolf that was turned in. By 1818 there was a “War of Extermination Order” for bears and wolves and slowly by 1884 bounties were set in at the least 9 states. By 1950 it was app
Finally this became too much! In 1973 the Endangered Species Act was put into order and the wolf was put on the list that August. Efforts slowly started back once more to try to get the wolf population to survive. Not all were successful though, in 1974 four wolves were introduced into an area in Michigan, but do to humans killing them the plan failed. In 1975 the first wolf reproduction (documented) pack was started since the 1950’s, bringing hope and ideas to others that wished for the wolves’ survival. Slowly, after many years the wolf population started to increase and become healthy once more, even after dips in this trend and shooting. In 2004 a hearing was held to once again remove the Grey Wolves from this list due to the fact that in 4 areas where the wolves were reintroduced the population was approximately 3,819 wolves. However in 2005 this plan was ruled against in court. Then finally on 03/12/2007 the Minnesota Grey Wolf was taken off the Endangered Species list. Unfortunately, there was no happily ever after, at least for the Rocky Mountain Grey Wolf that was delisted in April 2009. The wolves were being killed off so quickly that the healthy population formed was no longer substantial and have now been put back on the endangered species list once more. However, more people still and will continue to fight the issue.
The grey wolf is commonly confused with its relative the coyote. It is the largest member of its family and its color is anywhere from a grizzled gray, black to all-white. Females tend to be smaller than the average male. They have broad faces with a big muzzle, round short ears shaped like triangles with paws approximately 4 by 5 inches. They are also said to have a lower and long sounding growl. Males are 26 to 32 inches at the shoulders and are around 55 to 115 pounds. They give birth to litters of four to seven pups in April and May, with a general gestation period of about 2-3 months.
Wolves travel in packs (which is another variation from coyotes). They travel under the Alpha Male and Female, which are the only members of the pack that can mate. The Alpha Male and Female positions are chosen by who’s the best fighter. The subdominant wolves are forced to show their position by crouching and lowering their tails, while the dominant wolf can prance around, and play with them as they please.
The Grey Wolves habitats are tundra’s, forests, deserts, plains and mountains. This is reason why Alaska, Idaho, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Wisconsin and Wyoming are the ideal spots from them.
Wolves are carnivores (they eat only meat). They tend to usually thrive on larger animals, but will eat smaller animals if needed. Wolves usually kill and eat the animals that are the easiest to capture, therefore weeding out the weak parts in herds, making them stronger. This relationship with the prey is the most evident when Wolves were taken out of Yellowstone National Park. The elk and moose population along with coyotes and other animals started to grow out of control, the bighorn sheep’s pink eye disease was spreading, and food sources were rapidly depleted, however when they returned the wolves to the environment, things eventually snapped back into place for the rest of Yellowstone.
For years wolves were poached. At some times they were poached for their pelts, game, and due to them eating livestock. They were cruelly punished for this crime. Not only were they shot, they were trapped, or trapped then would have gasoline poured on them and then set fire to. Bounties were sent forth to try to get more people to hunt them. This started for the Grey Wolves (other wolf bounties for other species were or could have been set earlier or later) in 1630 in Massachusetts, and later the Unites States paid Indians with 3 quarts of wine or a bushel of corn, for one wolf that was turned in. By 1818 there was a “War of Extermination Order” for bears and wolves and slowly by 1884 bounties were set in at the least 9 states. By 1950 it was app
Finally this became too much! In 1973 the Endangered Species Act was put into order and the wolf was put on the list that August. Efforts slowly started back once more to try to get the wolf population to survive. Not all were successful though, in 1974 four wolves were introduced into an area in Michigan, but do to humans killing them the plan failed. In 1975 the first wolf reproduction (documented) pack was started since the 1950’s, bringing hope and ideas to others that wished for the wolves’ survival. Slowly, after many years the wolf population started to increase and become healthy once more, even after dips in this trend and shooting. In 2004 a hearing was held to once again remove the Grey Wolves from this list due to the fact that in 4 areas where the wolves were reintroduced the population was approximately 3,819 wolves. However in 2005 this plan was ruled against in court. Then finally on 03/12/2007 the Minnesota Grey Wolf was taken off the Endangered Species list. Unfortunately, there was no happily ever after, at least for the Rocky Mountain Grey Wolf that was delisted in April 2009. The wolves were being killed off so quickly that the healthy population formed was no longer substantial and have now been put back on the endangered species list once more. However, more people still and will continue to fight the issue.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Literary Analysis of Great Expectations
Great Expectations is a novel written in 1861 by the master of all classics, Charles Dickens, who has written other highly appreciated novels like well known, The Christmas Carol, The Pickwick Papers and many more. One of the amazing things about Charles Dickens is that he always manages to incorporate many themes that can be invisible to some people, and obvious to others. Throughout this whole book it reeks with the theme of revenge and yet, the theme that I would really like to discuss is the passage which represents the importance of humility, not getting caught in unimportant things, and being willing to change.
“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before- more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle. If I had cried before, I should have had Joe with me then.” (Great Expectations, p. 153)
This passage is towards the end of Pip’s first expectations, where he is leaving his family. Throughout the first stage of his expectations, Pip has slowly become ashamed of his family, believing them to be too common for his Estella to love and would make her hate him. Then he gets his expectations, the chance to become a gentleman, and in a state of pride separates himself from his family and treats them coldly as he leaves. Joe, his brother-in-law who is more of a father, offers to take him to meet the coach, but Pip instead chose not to have him come, as he no longer needs him. Until he actually gets there, and realizes his heart really does belong with his family. Slowly, as the book unravels, Pip begins to realize how much happier he could have been if he had been kinder to those who loved him most, his family.
The “Rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.” Using this imagery Pip describes that crying is alright, that showing emotion is sometimes the only thing that makes us feel better, and recognize reality. The blinding dust of reality is the things that get in our way, that block our image of the import things making us believe that they are the actual items of importance. The rain is our emotion, a true feeling, and by showing true feeling and emotion we settle that dust and put it back into its place on the ground where it can be trod on, then in the air where it becomes of matter of importance and where we can breathe it in.
When I read this passage I guess it makes me think of someone looking back on what they’ve gone through, and in a gentle way telling a person the subtle truths of life. Teaching them what they should not be afraid to be themselves, to be humble, and to not think that they can do everything on their own.
“More sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gently. If I had cried before, I should have had Joe with me then.” If Pip had only looked, cried before, realized, examined himself, wouldn’t he have recognized his pride, would he have realized Joe was someone who he truly loved? Who truly loved him? In the end Pip after many tries comes back to Joe, who had always been there for him, had always wanted him. However, he realized it how much later? After he had been through harrowing trials and had hurt himself. If he had been humble, he wouldn’t have had to “scrape his knees” to learn that truth and his life would have been so much happier.
“Heaven knows I should never be afraid of my tears.” I should never be afraid of changing, of being penitent. It may be painful then but it is more than worth it in the end. Be humble, recognize the need for a change and be willing to go through it.
“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before- more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle. If I had cried before, I should have had Joe with me then.” (Great Expectations, p. 153)
This passage is towards the end of Pip’s first expectations, where he is leaving his family. Throughout the first stage of his expectations, Pip has slowly become ashamed of his family, believing them to be too common for his Estella to love and would make her hate him. Then he gets his expectations, the chance to become a gentleman, and in a state of pride separates himself from his family and treats them coldly as he leaves. Joe, his brother-in-law who is more of a father, offers to take him to meet the coach, but Pip instead chose not to have him come, as he no longer needs him. Until he actually gets there, and realizes his heart really does belong with his family. Slowly, as the book unravels, Pip begins to realize how much happier he could have been if he had been kinder to those who loved him most, his family.
The “Rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.” Using this imagery Pip describes that crying is alright, that showing emotion is sometimes the only thing that makes us feel better, and recognize reality. The blinding dust of reality is the things that get in our way, that block our image of the import things making us believe that they are the actual items of importance. The rain is our emotion, a true feeling, and by showing true feeling and emotion we settle that dust and put it back into its place on the ground where it can be trod on, then in the air where it becomes of matter of importance and where we can breathe it in.
When I read this passage I guess it makes me think of someone looking back on what they’ve gone through, and in a gentle way telling a person the subtle truths of life. Teaching them what they should not be afraid to be themselves, to be humble, and to not think that they can do everything on their own.
“More sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gently. If I had cried before, I should have had Joe with me then.” If Pip had only looked, cried before, realized, examined himself, wouldn’t he have recognized his pride, would he have realized Joe was someone who he truly loved? Who truly loved him? In the end Pip after many tries comes back to Joe, who had always been there for him, had always wanted him. However, he realized it how much later? After he had been through harrowing trials and had hurt himself. If he had been humble, he wouldn’t have had to “scrape his knees” to learn that truth and his life would have been so much happier.
“Heaven knows I should never be afraid of my tears.” I should never be afraid of changing, of being penitent. It may be painful then but it is more than worth it in the end. Be humble, recognize the need for a change and be willing to go through it.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Romeo and Juliet
I am the one,
Oh, Romeo’s fair love
As sweet as the eastern sun
Our fate was matched on stars above,
Yes, the cruelest stars, did match our innocent love.
Our fathers hate did seal our fate,
And sent me early to my untimely grave.
I saw my love but once,
Till we were bound in lovers vow,
Though to another’s love I was to be bound
I am the one,
Whose love never ends,
Faithful as the Heavens’ above.
And though my cousin’s blood shed,
With swords, and violence, and revenge’s bitter love,
Who stole my love to a distant land.
And I fearing yet a second vow,
untrue to my man
Drank my first sweet death
A hidden one.
My love, my love, oh my Godly man,
The man who knew no darkness, who knew nothing but love.
God, oh dear God, why did thou take him from my side,
To be cruelly reunited with my lover’s corpse?
My husband, oh forbid me pain, of knowing
That thou fearing me dead
Took thine own soul to join mine
In paradise’s unending glory.
I am the one
To seal the final fate,
With the fatal bliss of love.
I loved a girl,
A girl fairer then any sun.
I loved a girl,
And killed her with my love.
Had I not crossed
Fair reasons line,
Had I not mourned
For sweet Rosaline.
Would you know this fate?
Would you lie here?
With thy hair thy gleaming halo,
Thy lips a faded berry,
Thy cheeks an ending blush.
Thy breath my dreamed existence?
Would you have entered into death’s own door?
He, the only one who could take thou from me.
My love is an endless well,
Oh that thou had drank from it more.
I killed a girl,
I killed with my love.
With my impulse, hate and sword.
With bitter revenge’s love.
Did I seal deaths door.
I his man, his very thief.
I sealed the door of death for her cousin.
I sealed the door of death for her groom.
I sealed the door of death for her.
And now I seal the door of death
For her murderer,
For me.
West Side Story
“Some shall be pardoned, and some punished; for never was there a story of more woe than this of Maria and her Anton.” But can the modern adaptation, West Side Story, be as emotional as William Shakespeare’s famed play Romeo and Juliet? The movie was made in 1961, but is also a popular Broadway play. It takes off of Romeo and Juliet with the Montague’s and the Capulet’s being two opposing gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, who are both of opposing racial groups, too. Maria would be considered Juliet, and Tony, would be Romeo. Perhaps the most emotional moment, even more so than in the original Shakespearean play, would be the final scene.
In the movie, Maria’s best friend is attacked by the Jets while trying to bring a message to Tony as Maria’s had been detained. Upset and angry, she leaves the message that Maria is dead, that Chino (who would be Paris) had found out about their love, and had shot her. In an emotional haze, Tony runs out into the open screaming for Chino to come and shoot him, but is instead met by Maria. Running to each others arms, Tony is shot by Chino, and with members of both gangs watching, dies in her arms. In the actual play written by Shakespeare, Romeo sees Juliet’s dead body and then kills himself, she wakes up and then kills herself. However in West Side Story Maria does not die. This is what I think made the movie even more emotional then the play. Both gangs start to leave the area, to leave Maria to herself. Instead, she yells at them to stop, she then takes the gun from Chino and points it at different members of the gang. She then says the moral of the play, “All of you! You all killed him! And my brother, and Riff. Not with bullets, or guns, with hate. Well now I can kill, too, because now I have hate!” She then drops the gun and falls to knees until the police officer comes, at which time she throws herself over Toni’s body, screaming not to touch him until she comes to her senses. Then both groups come together to carry her love’s body away as she kneels next to it. With a hardened face she looks down where he died, when another member of the gang puts her black scarf back on her, giving her the look of a morning widow. She then stands, and walks away with a grim determination. By the fact that “Juliet” did not die, I think it brought far more power to the piece then killing her. The audience, or at least me, hangs in dreaded anticipation when she picks of the gun, the suspense is awful, her tears are heart wrenching, and to see her walk away, leaves a greater lesson, then to have her die.
To make this scene as tragic as it was the directors used many techniques. The most prominent of these that I noted was the fact that Maria was always in shot, and she was always in character until she walked out of the gates. They also have each gang on one side of Toni’s body, where they will eventually come together to carry his dead body. As he lies dying in her arms they relive past dreams, she promises him that they will still be able to live their dreams together. One acting technique that really brought drama into the scene was that Tony was in pain, and seemed desperate like a little child, and was sweating, as with a lot of the other members of the gang. Overall, everyone except Maria had a pretty dingy and grimy look. With opposing hands clasped together she sings, voice cracking, their previous refrain, knowing that he will die, stopping when he does. The camera gets closer and shows him take last breath, his face still contorted in agony. The lighting continuously throughout the film is red and dark, as with this scene. The location of this takes place on the gang’s territory, which they make familiar through out the whole film. The music is the love theme, quieter and in a more minor key. As she leaves, there is a heavy bass drum, in a constant beat that gives a dangerous, determined and upset feel to the ending. The movie ends by pulling the camera out and away as the members of the gangs move away.
By leaving one of the lover’s alive, and having an audience (the gangs, who used to be the opposing sides) present to watch her grief, the directors provide a more heart ripping and emotional scene, then to have two lovers in an emotionally blind state kill themselves, which is almost too hurried and frantic. It leaves a question with you, would you rather love and not have it work out, then to have never loved at all. Also, by doing this the moral of the story, the power of hate, was brought out in a more apparent and beautiful way.
Oh, Romeo’s fair love
As sweet as the eastern sun
Our fate was matched on stars above,
Yes, the cruelest stars, did match our innocent love.
Our fathers hate did seal our fate,
And sent me early to my untimely grave.
I saw my love but once,
Till we were bound in lovers vow,
Though to another’s love I was to be bound
I am the one,
Whose love never ends,
Faithful as the Heavens’ above.
And though my cousin’s blood shed,
With swords, and violence, and revenge’s bitter love,
Who stole my love to a distant land.
And I fearing yet a second vow,
untrue to my man
Drank my first sweet death
A hidden one.
My love, my love, oh my Godly man,
The man who knew no darkness, who knew nothing but love.
God, oh dear God, why did thou take him from my side,
To be cruelly reunited with my lover’s corpse?
My husband, oh forbid me pain, of knowing
That thou fearing me dead
Took thine own soul to join mine
In paradise’s unending glory.
I am the one
To seal the final fate,
With the fatal bliss of love.
I loved a girl,
A girl fairer then any sun.
I loved a girl,
And killed her with my love.
Had I not crossed
Fair reasons line,
Had I not mourned
For sweet Rosaline.
Would you know this fate?
Would you lie here?
With thy hair thy gleaming halo,
Thy lips a faded berry,
Thy cheeks an ending blush.
Thy breath my dreamed existence?
Would you have entered into death’s own door?
He, the only one who could take thou from me.
My love is an endless well,
Oh that thou had drank from it more.
I killed a girl,
I killed with my love.
With my impulse, hate and sword.
With bitter revenge’s love.
Did I seal deaths door.
I his man, his very thief.
I sealed the door of death for her cousin.
I sealed the door of death for her groom.
I sealed the door of death for her.
And now I seal the door of death
For her murderer,
For me.
West Side Story
“Some shall be pardoned, and some punished; for never was there a story of more woe than this of Maria and her Anton.” But can the modern adaptation, West Side Story, be as emotional as William Shakespeare’s famed play Romeo and Juliet? The movie was made in 1961, but is also a popular Broadway play. It takes off of Romeo and Juliet with the Montague’s and the Capulet’s being two opposing gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, who are both of opposing racial groups, too. Maria would be considered Juliet, and Tony, would be Romeo. Perhaps the most emotional moment, even more so than in the original Shakespearean play, would be the final scene.
In the movie, Maria’s best friend is attacked by the Jets while trying to bring a message to Tony as Maria’s had been detained. Upset and angry, she leaves the message that Maria is dead, that Chino (who would be Paris) had found out about their love, and had shot her. In an emotional haze, Tony runs out into the open screaming for Chino to come and shoot him, but is instead met by Maria. Running to each others arms, Tony is shot by Chino, and with members of both gangs watching, dies in her arms. In the actual play written by Shakespeare, Romeo sees Juliet’s dead body and then kills himself, she wakes up and then kills herself. However in West Side Story Maria does not die. This is what I think made the movie even more emotional then the play. Both gangs start to leave the area, to leave Maria to herself. Instead, she yells at them to stop, she then takes the gun from Chino and points it at different members of the gang. She then says the moral of the play, “All of you! You all killed him! And my brother, and Riff. Not with bullets, or guns, with hate. Well now I can kill, too, because now I have hate!” She then drops the gun and falls to knees until the police officer comes, at which time she throws herself over Toni’s body, screaming not to touch him until she comes to her senses. Then both groups come together to carry her love’s body away as she kneels next to it. With a hardened face she looks down where he died, when another member of the gang puts her black scarf back on her, giving her the look of a morning widow. She then stands, and walks away with a grim determination. By the fact that “Juliet” did not die, I think it brought far more power to the piece then killing her. The audience, or at least me, hangs in dreaded anticipation when she picks of the gun, the suspense is awful, her tears are heart wrenching, and to see her walk away, leaves a greater lesson, then to have her die.
To make this scene as tragic as it was the directors used many techniques. The most prominent of these that I noted was the fact that Maria was always in shot, and she was always in character until she walked out of the gates. They also have each gang on one side of Toni’s body, where they will eventually come together to carry his dead body. As he lies dying in her arms they relive past dreams, she promises him that they will still be able to live their dreams together. One acting technique that really brought drama into the scene was that Tony was in pain, and seemed desperate like a little child, and was sweating, as with a lot of the other members of the gang. Overall, everyone except Maria had a pretty dingy and grimy look. With opposing hands clasped together she sings, voice cracking, their previous refrain, knowing that he will die, stopping when he does. The camera gets closer and shows him take last breath, his face still contorted in agony. The lighting continuously throughout the film is red and dark, as with this scene. The location of this takes place on the gang’s territory, which they make familiar through out the whole film. The music is the love theme, quieter and in a more minor key. As she leaves, there is a heavy bass drum, in a constant beat that gives a dangerous, determined and upset feel to the ending. The movie ends by pulling the camera out and away as the members of the gangs move away.
By leaving one of the lover’s alive, and having an audience (the gangs, who used to be the opposing sides) present to watch her grief, the directors provide a more heart ripping and emotional scene, then to have two lovers in an emotionally blind state kill themselves, which is almost too hurried and frantic. It leaves a question with you, would you rather love and not have it work out, then to have never loved at all. Also, by doing this the moral of the story, the power of hate, was brought out in a more apparent and beautiful way.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sonnet for English...And More stuff that's random!!!
Yes, I did take this... My sister's are more amazing, I honestly think the fish jump just for her to take their picture.
This cat and I have the same attitude... Away from the camera, well until we feel like it.
Ho me, mercy be, would that I a God may be.
A God may give and a God may take,
And if I so be the gift our love would my fee.
Our star-crossed love, oh, what a lonely thing.
For I fear our love must take it's shadowed leave,
and the pain of the heart concealed as one,
everlasting and traitorous, to whom I must cleave,
lest by our death our forbearance be won.
But to die for love, what an ignorant bliss,
and, oh, yet such a tragic end.
To slay one's love with a holy kiss.
May God's heart be able to lend,
Yet to our days, and with His grace,
Where to each others arms soon may we race.
So I just watched West Side Story for the first time! It was amazing... the second time. The first time it was almost to cheesy, but when I went back over it I realized how amazing it is, and how much I really like it!!! The dancing was amazing, the ending is incredible, and most of the music is exhilarating. As cliche as it sounds my favorite song was probably, Maria. But I like others like Keep it Cool (I'm pretty sure that's not the name, but anyways...) The part I really liked that made it wonderful, was the very end where Maria is crying over Tony and in the end walks away, I'm not going to pontificate so those of you who haven't seen it don't get the ending spoiled. Anyways, where my sister was home, the girls had a movie night and went and saw the movie Tangled! It was so cute, and I absolutely loved it! It was hilarious, and funny, and cute, and goofy, etc.
Does it ever seem that the world is falling to pieces? With the whole middle east conflict still going on, and on top of that the earthquake in Japan with the Nuclear Plant problems? It's unnerving and depressing, and scarily enough we'll probably have it happen here. I know we can't sit around waiting for it, but just to know it will happen, and then change everything... eykes!!! (= (ugh...the smiley face is not working!!!) It's amazing though that so much is happening in our life time though. It is weird to think that history is being made.
Congratulations if you made it to the end of this post. It is weird and very random, but I thought it was more entertaining then my dad's idea of writing about breakfast cereal. Something more exciting will definitely be posted next week!!!... Hopefully!!!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
More Biology
When Darwin was developing his theory of evolution there were five main points that he focused on. They are the fossil record, comparative anatomy, comparative embryology, comparative biochemistry, and geographic distribution. Through developing and comparing results of his studies of these areas he eventually went on to write book on evolution called On the Origin of Species.
The fossil record is “The collective record of biological development that is reflected in the fossilized remains of organisms through geological history; The record of preserved evidence for a single species or taxon”- en.wiktionary.org/wiki/fossil_record. By looking at the fossil record Darwin found similar traits that were carried through a species, but also different ones as well. These types of traits are called Derived Traits and Ancestral Traits. Derived traits are the ones that differ, the slowly progress. An example of this would be feathers. Ancestral traits however are the opposite of this. Ancestral traits pass from generation to generation, with examples being teeth and tails. The fossils that slowly progress to the next stage and slowly evolve into the newer generations are called transitional fossils. This leads us to our next point, which is comparative anatomy.
Comparative Anatomy is just that, comparing the anatomy of a species, most likely over longs periods of time. There are three basic structures that are used for comparing the anatomy; these are Homologous, Vestigial, and Analogous Structures. Homologous structures are structures that seem to have been passed down from a common source but may now have a different use depending on the structure. To more successfully define this- “Each limb is adapted for different uses, but they all have similar bones.”- Glencoe Science: Biology. Vestigial structures are functional in some species but not for others who are typically closely related. A kiwi bird, for example, has wings but they are too small to be functional. A vestigial structure can also be and are most likely, if not almost always homologous structures. Wings are an example of an Analogous structure; they are used in the same way but are not always from a common ancestor. To find whether or not a similar ancestor was shared scientist can use form of comparative embryology, comparative biochemistry, and geographic distribution.
Comparative embryology is as self-explanatory as Comparative Anatomy. It is the comparing of embryos which are found in the pre-birth stage of an organism. By comparing the similar parts of the embryos it suggests that there has been a common ancestor as well. Comparative Biochemistry compares the biochemistry of an organism. By checking this scientists have found similar DNA, RNA and other chemicals and enzymes that suggest that there have been common ancestors that these traits have derived from. Geographic is the distribution of a species and then the further evolution or adaptation of a species. Darwin studied the finches in South America and observed the differences in a certain species because they live in a different habitat or in this case island. The study of the plants and animals around the globe is now called biogeography. Finally one last thing that can cause an evolutionary change is an organism’s ability to adapt.
Adaptation is the evolutionary process whereby a population becomes better suited to its habitat. This process takes place over many generations, and is one of the basic phenomena of biology. - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adaptation. However not all adaptations are helpful, “some are the consequences of a previous adaptation” Glencoe Science: Biology. Some forms of adaptations are called fitness, camouflage, and mimicry. Fitness is what the organism gives back to the species with its passed down traits. Camouflage is the ability to look like an organism’s environment, and finally mimicry it the ability of a species to mimic or act like a more dangerous species. An example of this would be the California kingsnake acting like the poisonous Western Coral Snake. These mimicries can be patterns on the animal so it looks alike or even certain types of movements.
The fossil record is “The collective record of biological development that is reflected in the fossilized remains of organisms through geological history; The record of preserved evidence for a single species or taxon”- en.wiktionary.org/wiki/fossil_record. By looking at the fossil record Darwin found similar traits that were carried through a species, but also different ones as well. These types of traits are called Derived Traits and Ancestral Traits. Derived traits are the ones that differ, the slowly progress. An example of this would be feathers. Ancestral traits however are the opposite of this. Ancestral traits pass from generation to generation, with examples being teeth and tails. The fossils that slowly progress to the next stage and slowly evolve into the newer generations are called transitional fossils. This leads us to our next point, which is comparative anatomy.
Comparative Anatomy is just that, comparing the anatomy of a species, most likely over longs periods of time. There are three basic structures that are used for comparing the anatomy; these are Homologous, Vestigial, and Analogous Structures. Homologous structures are structures that seem to have been passed down from a common source but may now have a different use depending on the structure. To more successfully define this- “Each limb is adapted for different uses, but they all have similar bones.”- Glencoe Science: Biology. Vestigial structures are functional in some species but not for others who are typically closely related. A kiwi bird, for example, has wings but they are too small to be functional. A vestigial structure can also be and are most likely, if not almost always homologous structures. Wings are an example of an Analogous structure; they are used in the same way but are not always from a common ancestor. To find whether or not a similar ancestor was shared scientist can use form of comparative embryology, comparative biochemistry, and geographic distribution.
Comparative embryology is as self-explanatory as Comparative Anatomy. It is the comparing of embryos which are found in the pre-birth stage of an organism. By comparing the similar parts of the embryos it suggests that there has been a common ancestor as well. Comparative Biochemistry compares the biochemistry of an organism. By checking this scientists have found similar DNA, RNA and other chemicals and enzymes that suggest that there have been common ancestors that these traits have derived from. Geographic is the distribution of a species and then the further evolution or adaptation of a species. Darwin studied the finches in South America and observed the differences in a certain species because they live in a different habitat or in this case island. The study of the plants and animals around the globe is now called biogeography. Finally one last thing that can cause an evolutionary change is an organism’s ability to adapt.
Adaptation is the evolutionary process whereby a population becomes better suited to its habitat. This process takes place over many generations, and is one of the basic phenomena of biology. - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adaptation. However not all adaptations are helpful, “some are the consequences of a previous adaptation” Glencoe Science: Biology. Some forms of adaptations are called fitness, camouflage, and mimicry. Fitness is what the organism gives back to the species with its passed down traits. Camouflage is the ability to look like an organism’s environment, and finally mimicry it the ability of a species to mimic or act like a more dangerous species. An example of this would be the California kingsnake acting like the poisonous Western Coral Snake. These mimicries can be patterns on the animal so it looks alike or even certain types of movements.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Carter's fun essay!
Well, you can’t quite win them all. Today was my first true day as an embalmer, or at least getting to do the job of one. They decided, even though it was against custom, to start with the stomach first and then the head, eyes and other upper extremities. It started out being exhilarating! I was thrilled! As they handed me that knife I was amazed at the ease of my knife cutting through the side of the body. I admit I was a little shaky, but that was just because I couldn’t wait to see what was inside the human body! That was, until I saw it… Peeling away the layer of flesh and cutting back the muscles and ligaments a fresh wave of nausea coursed through my body. There was no way I was going to be able to hold it back with the way they were constantly watching me, glancing around I knew I only had one chance for the moment. I silently placed the knife down, looked them steadily in the eye, and turned away, walking to the wall, where I pretended to be overcome with grief. I can hear them murmur in the distance “Must have been related.” Nodding my head, I continued to pretend to silently morn, with racking sobs echoing my body, and my hand covering my mouth. As I hear them turn away and continue with the process those “racking sobs” become a little more racked, and I fight back the bile rising in my throat with swallow after swallow after swallow. I know I can’t stay away too long so I turn back and walk placidly over to the body where they made room for me to continue with my job. Taking a quiet and hidden deep breath I quickly close my eyes and plunge my hand into the gooey flesh beneath me. I feel around find what I hope to be some main body organ, cut it loose and practically threw it into the Canoptic jar, as I continued to do so with the next three body organs. Shaking, Pale, and Sweaty, I move away from the body, holding back the next wave of nausea by bowing my head and clutching my hands clasped hands to my stomach, and pretending to pray for the souls protection to Anubis. When I look up again, they look at me touched, as I hear one murmur, “What respect for the Dead!” They ask me if I am ready to continue on and I nod, “unselfishly” asking if they would like to remove the brain and eyes as I wrapped the fingernails and toenails in gold. This part I could handle, I simply looked down, pretending to be deeply involved in my work. I did pretty well until they started to remove the rest of the guts. One of them accidently leaned on an artery and blood spewed everywhere, which startled the head dissectors, causing brains and eyes to fly through the air, creating a biohazard onslaught. Ducking I quickly found the bucket they were using to put all the organs in the hard way by sticking my hands in it to catch my fall. My one last stroke of pride was over and I quickly emptied the contents of my stomach into the bucket and covered it with organs. Feeling immensely better, I wiped my face and stood up just as they finally got the chaos under control. And so my day ended, as we covered the body in salt and now I simply get to “look forward” to the fortieth day in which we get to wrap up…joy…
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Random Report
Ribosomes are organelles that were first observed in the 1950s by George Palade- a Romanian Scientist. Later they were “discovered” in 1974 by Albert Claude, Christian de Duve and George Emil Palade (they received the Nobel Prize for this- medicine). They were decidedly called ribosome’s deriving from the words ribonucleic acid and the Greek word Soma, meaning body. Later in 2009 three more scientist were honored with the Nobel Prize for their continuous study of the structure that is found in ribosomes.
Ribosome’s assemble proteins and consist of a larger and smaller unit. The larger unit is generally sixty percent of the ribosome and is ribosomal RNA, the last forty percent is made of proteins (at least in a eukaryotic cell), however whether the cell is prokaryotic or eukaryotic the percentages can change (prokaryotic- 30 and 50). During protein synthesis the smaller unit binds to mRNA and the larger binds to RNA and amino acids. Ribosome’s are generally spheres and are so small that they can only been seen under an electron microscope- there general size is around 20 nm (nm standing for nanometer- it is one billionth of a meter). In dry cells ribosome’s make up twenty five percent of the weight in the cell. Their structure and vulnerability can change depending on whether they are in bacteria, archaebacteria, or
Ribosome’s are reproduced in the nucleolus where they then come out and in a eukaryotic cell (a cell containing a nucleus and other organelles) they bind to the endoplasmic reticulum and by doing form rough ER. In a prokaryotic cell they hang in the cytosol or cytoplasm. This forms the two different types of ribosome’s- bound and free. Either of these ribosome’s are interchangeable and they type that are made are sent by a signal sequence, but bound ribosome’s form proteins that are made for the plasma membrane or are taken through exocytosis (the secretion of materials through the cellular membrane). Ribosome’s are classified as Ribozymes. Polyribosome’s or polysomes are groups of ribosome’s that are held together by messenger RNA.
To make proteins, ribosome’s work up and down Messenger RNA reading the genetic code called “codon” off of it (the Genetic Material is made from DNA because DNA makes RNA). This process is called translation. By translation the ribosomes know which proteins to form. The ribosome’s then take the amino acids which are attached to the mRNA and form peptyde bonds between the acids using tRNA which takes the amino acid to its spot in the chain where it is catalyzed by aminoacyl tRNA synthetase (the process of chemical reaction is sped up). The energy needed for this process is called guanosine triphosphate. The chain is then bound together by a different part of the ribosome, and when it has finished reading the part of the mRNA the two subunits break apart.
Ribosome’s assemble proteins and consist of a larger and smaller unit. The larger unit is generally sixty percent of the ribosome and is ribosomal RNA, the last forty percent is made of proteins (at least in a eukaryotic cell), however whether the cell is prokaryotic or eukaryotic the percentages can change (prokaryotic- 30 and 50). During protein synthesis the smaller unit binds to mRNA and the larger binds to RNA and amino acids. Ribosome’s are generally spheres and are so small that they can only been seen under an electron microscope- there general size is around 20 nm (nm standing for nanometer- it is one billionth of a meter). In dry cells ribosome’s make up twenty five percent of the weight in the cell. Their structure and vulnerability can change depending on whether they are in bacteria, archaebacteria, or
Ribosome’s are reproduced in the nucleolus where they then come out and in a eukaryotic cell (a cell containing a nucleus and other organelles) they bind to the endoplasmic reticulum and by doing form rough ER. In a prokaryotic cell they hang in the cytosol or cytoplasm. This forms the two different types of ribosome’s- bound and free. Either of these ribosome’s are interchangeable and they type that are made are sent by a signal sequence, but bound ribosome’s form proteins that are made for the plasma membrane or are taken through exocytosis (the secretion of materials through the cellular membrane). Ribosome’s are classified as Ribozymes. Polyribosome’s or polysomes are groups of ribosome’s that are held together by messenger RNA.
To make proteins, ribosome’s work up and down Messenger RNA reading the genetic code called “codon” off of it (the Genetic Material is made from DNA because DNA makes RNA). This process is called translation. By translation the ribosomes know which proteins to form. The ribosome’s then take the amino acids which are attached to the mRNA and form peptyde bonds between the acids using tRNA which takes the amino acid to its spot in the chain where it is catalyzed by aminoacyl tRNA synthetase (the process of chemical reaction is sped up). The energy needed for this process is called guanosine triphosphate. The chain is then bound together by a different part of the ribosome, and when it has finished reading the part of the mRNA the two subunits break apart.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Some of Music's Effects
"Music can change metabolism, affect muscular energy, raise or lower blood pressure, and influence digestion. It may be able to do all these things more successfully ... than any other stimulants that produce those changes in our bodies,” said Julius Portnoy. Well, I for one definitely agree. Music can affect our moods, heal us, and is proven to help people with mental activities.
Music has the power to make us feel things. For example, it is used to treat depression. It has the ability to make us feel sad, mad, tired, or excited. Classical music has been proven to release more Dopamine, which is a chemical that gives a sense of well being, or euphoria.
Music is also used to treat pain. People with heart problems, arthritis, or recovering from things like strokes are often treated partly by listening to classical music because it helps to ease the pain. Music can also be used to change your blood pressure. Rock, or upbeat music, tends to raise your blood pressure, where classical music lowers it. Again, you may ask why? “Blood pressure,” says Julius Portnoy, “is lowered by sustained chords and raised by crisp, repeated ones.” Classical music causes the brain to release more calcium, which is proven to lower your blood pressure. Rock music, tends to give you an increased or irregular heartbeat which raises your blood pressure. So which type of music would be better for a school activity?
Music has been proven to help mental concentration, help with better test scores, improve our physical performance, and increase our productivity levels. Music, such as Mozart, has been proven to help on tests scores. Rock music can help us physically because of the upbeat tone. Music also helps us to be more productive. It can make us forget that we are tired or bored with a repetitive task. Another effect music can have is to help us de-stress, which definitely helps me to become more productive.
Music can help us in many things. It is one of the most powerful drugs on the market. It can make us do or feel things that nothing else can. It can help us to focus better in healthier ways than coffee, or caffeine. It can help us to more fully be treated, and it helps us to be more fully healed. It can increase our brain’s productivity. It helps us to be at our best and our fullest.
Music has the power to make us feel things. For example, it is used to treat depression. It has the ability to make us feel sad, mad, tired, or excited. Classical music has been proven to release more Dopamine, which is a chemical that gives a sense of well being, or euphoria.
Music is also used to treat pain. People with heart problems, arthritis, or recovering from things like strokes are often treated partly by listening to classical music because it helps to ease the pain. Music can also be used to change your blood pressure. Rock, or upbeat music, tends to raise your blood pressure, where classical music lowers it. Again, you may ask why? “Blood pressure,” says Julius Portnoy, “is lowered by sustained chords and raised by crisp, repeated ones.” Classical music causes the brain to release more calcium, which is proven to lower your blood pressure. Rock music, tends to give you an increased or irregular heartbeat which raises your blood pressure. So which type of music would be better for a school activity?
Music has been proven to help mental concentration, help with better test scores, improve our physical performance, and increase our productivity levels. Music, such as Mozart, has been proven to help on tests scores. Rock music can help us physically because of the upbeat tone. Music also helps us to be more productive. It can make us forget that we are tired or bored with a repetitive task. Another effect music can have is to help us de-stress, which definitely helps me to become more productive.
Music can help us in many things. It is one of the most powerful drugs on the market. It can make us do or feel things that nothing else can. It can help us to focus better in healthier ways than coffee, or caffeine. It can help us to more fully be treated, and it helps us to be more fully healed. It can increase our brain’s productivity. It helps us to be at our best and our fullest.
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