Potassium and Calcium Oxide

050212 Aisling's Song

2012-02-05T22:04:00.002-07:00

(a mix of English and Gaelic, just so you're clear)

You must go where I can not,
Pangur Ban Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
Pangur Ban Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr

The movie this comes from, The Secret of Kells is available on Netflix (at least the Canadian site, not sure about elsewhere). If you haven't seen it, you should; the soundtrack alone is worth it.
And if I ever own a white cat in the future (heterochromia or not) I think I will name it Pangur. :3

020212 Great Britain 2014

2012-02-02T23:15:00.003-07:00

We had community day at school today, which meant that each department got together to do something. Because the English department is rather small (there are only 33 students in the program and 12 of us showed up) we just had a panel kind of thing with some of the older students and whatnot.

What I really went for was the discussion of the Eng. Lit. Travel Study to Great Britain. I have my name down on the list already, even though the trip isn't until 2014 and nothing is planned yet at all. Other than writing, my passion is definitely traveling. XD I was told that the price is usually between $3000 and $3500 for 14-18 days at the beginning of May.

I want to either go early and spend a week in the Benelux (being in Amsterdam for Konningedag would be awesome) or a week later in the Benelux or perhaps some more touring in the United Kingdom/Republic of Ireland; maybe even the Normandy coast of France.

So I'm going to try and save about $5000 over the next two years. If anyone want to help out with that, you know, I'm totally open for donations. XD

On the school front, the next two weeks are going to be absolutely insane. I have an exam tomorrow (which I should be studying for, but every time I try, I get that 'I'm reading the words, but I'm not reading what they say' phenomenon), three papers due in that time and two midterms on the day before I leave for Mexico. It's going to be chaotic...

On the writing front, I just collected my scattered ideas and I have 33 more detailed ideas that I could use right now for a short story and 17 smaller snippets that need more thought. But before I even think about working on any of those, I have to pick something that is going to be my assignment for my second English piece this semester.

On the everything else front, life is peachy. It tastes good, but it's messy and runs down your chin with no regard for whatever you're wearing. And in the middle of what would otherwise be a large piece of sweet deliciousness is a pit that has to ruin the endless taste. But then again, the pit does give you something to hold on to while you're deciding how to deal with the rest of the fruit before your hands become stickier than a thief's in a bank vault. (Figure that metaphor out, I dare you.)

290112 The Fault in Our Stars

2012-01-29T22:36:00.000-07:00

Yeah, this post contains a ton of spoilers. So, if you haven't read the book, stop reading this, go read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green (you can even borrow mine if you'd like) then you can come back and read this.

Okay? Only people who have read the book here now? Then continue:

I don't really even know where to start with talking about this book. I mean, it touches me a lot, mostly because Hazel loses someone to a disease like I lost someone to a disease. While the characters are fundamentally different from my own experiences, the same emotions are there. Of course, there are two different sets of emotions here: Pre-Death and Post-Life

The Pre-Death ones are the emotions that are shown before someone who is expected to die, dies. Those are the feelings of fear of a future without that person in it. In TFiOS, Hazel's mother whispers (when she thinks Hazel can't hear) "I won't be a mother anymore." Her mom feels guilty for even thinking about a life after Hazel by secretly taking courses for a career in the future when she'll have all this time on her hands when she won't have Hazel to care for.

Even Hazel has these pre-death fears. She calls herself a grenade, which was a way that I never thought about it before. But I suppose terminally ill people are grenades; when they die, they leave behind a ton of people affected by his or her death. I'm stuck wondering right now if Connor had any thoughts like that. Did he ever think about his effect on us? Did it infuriate him like it infuriated Hazel?

The Post-Life emotions have to do with the feelings that are felt after someone dies. When Gus dies, Hazel is left with after math. I don't even know how to explain it. There's the feeling of the unfairness of his situation and the unwillingness to face what was his. Hazel doesn't want to eat or do anything.

There's also the quote that she says that funerals are for the living. So true, so true.

This was a Real Love Story. Not one of those mushy stories where, while the characters might undergo some hardship, the ending is always happy, or sort of open-ended. Not so in Hazel and Gus' case. He dies. There is no happy ending for a relationship in which one of the participants dies. None. It's twisted, it's cruel, it's unfair, but hey, the world is not a wish-granting factory.

The story isn't all sad stuff though. There's lots of laughter in it (seriously, with insults like 'douchepants' and 'assclown', who needs more?) and a lot of serious deep-stuff that I like to think about. Although, I was concerned that John was going to pull a Van Houten and leave the story mid-sentence. D: That would have been cruel.

Maybe I should ceasely email John asking about whether Hazel dies soon or if her life is prolonged even more, or whether Kaitlyn ever finds a guy that she truly falls in love with, or if Hazel's mom does a better job as a Patrick than Patrick can, or if Daniel and his kids love the swing set to death or something along those lines. XD

250112 Kickstarter: Amaranthine Project

2012-01-25T18:29:00.000-07:00

I've got some digital friends who are looking for some help in starting up their comic, so they've created a Kickstarter for it. The following links explain the project and give you a taste of what these two are capable of producing. Their art is absolutely amazing and I can't wait to see what the rest of the book looks like!

And, as a bonus, Hunter (the girl in the video) is Calgarian! So you'd be helping out a local artist!

Kickstarter
Intro (preview of book)
Hunter's dA (lone-momo)
budgie's dA

250112 Extreme Ways - Moby

2012-01-25T17:48:00.003-07:00

[NSFW warning: the video is extremely provocative]

Extreme ways are back again
Extreme places I didn't know
I broke everything new again
Everything that I'd owned
I threw it out the windows, came along
Extreme ways I know move apart
The colors of my sea
Perfect color me

Extreme ways that help me
That help me out late at night
Extreme places I had gone
But never seen any light
Dirty basements, dirty noise
Dirty places coming through
Extreme worlds alone
Did you ever like it then

I would stand in line for this
There's always room in life for this

Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Like it always does, always does

Extreme songs that told me
They helped me down every night
I didn't have much to say
I didn't get above the light
I closed my eyes and closed myself
And closed my world and never opened
Up to anything
That could get me along

I had to close down everything
I had to close down my mind
Too many things to cover me
Too much can make me blind
I've seen so much in so many places
So many heartaches, so many faces
So many dirty things
You couldn't even believe

I would stand in line for this
It's always good in life for this

Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Then it fell apart, it fell apart
Oh baby, oh baby
Like it always does, always does

220112 Ninja Kitty

2012-01-22T20:36:00.000-07:00

There is a danger that lurks in my house
It is a streak of grey, hiding in the shadows
Staring out with a flash of the eyes
There is one thing
And one thing only
That can alert you to the presence of this danger:
The jangle of a bell
Securely fastened around the dangerous thing's neck

But a tragedy occurred late last night
As the danger took on another danger
And the bell was lost

We walk cautiously through the house now
On constant guard for the presence of that shadow
Lurking with sharpened claws
There is no warning
There is no bell
There is only a blur of grey fur
And a fresh scratch and puncture marks in your leg.

180112

2012-01-18T13:45:00.002-07:00

Hey, if you catch my 8,888th page view, screencap it and upload it to tinypic (or some other photo sharing site) and I will write/draw something of your choice for you. X3

170112 SOPA/PIPA-related Thoughts

2012-01-17T17:10:00.001-07:00

Here's something I've been thinking about in the wake of several sites announcing that they will go into black-out mode to protest the SOPA/PIPA legislature in front of the US government. First off, I do believe stealing is wrong. But I'm a little confused as to what we define stealing as.

The big thing that SOPA/PIPA is trying to attack is the downloading of music and movies for free (aka, internet piracy). But isn't the act of internet piracy akin to Robin Hood's 'steal from the rich to feed the poor'? I guess my beef with this is movies mostly, not music. I go to watch a movie in the theatres and it costs me $13 if the movie is 2D and $16+ for a movie in 3D (which, 99.9% of the time, sucks). The actors in these movies are drowning in money that they have to have designer everything in order to just spend a fraction of the money that they have.

Do they even feel the effects of downloaded movies? Not likely. Do I feel the effects of movie ticket prices going up? Yes, I do. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Hollywood seems to be surviving just fine without these laws that are being proposed. If the acts were to go through, just imagine how much ticket prices would go up because there would be more control given to the producing side of the movie industry instead of the consumer side.

I don't know the details of the acts. I don't really plan to look into the details because I'm sure it's all in jargon that I won't understand anyway.

Will these blackouts affect any decision made on these acts? Not likely. It's a day of inconvenience for a lot of people, but not a major driving factor.

150112 Superpowers

2012-01-15T23:36:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I haven't posted anything in about a week. That is so not like me. D:

Anyway, the subject of superpowers came up this past Friday at youth. One person asked what superpower everyone would choose and I did not have an answer. There's so many choices in the world of super human abilities that it was hard to narrow it down to one such thing.

Today, that one such thing came to mind. The power to heal. Not myself, but others. I have done a little research (wikipedia, go!) and found two superheroes who had this power, which is listed as 'biological manipulation': Elixir (A Marvel creation) and Shawn Farrell (from The 4400, which I am not familiar with).

Of course, as soon as that answer had arisen, other questions and issues swamped me. Such a power in a world like this one carries a huge burden of responsibility. I had to think about what I would be able to heal; would it just be the physical injuries of broken bones or cancer or would it be other diseases too, like physical and mental disabilities? (I am, of course, thinking about children such as Connor and Melania) And if my healing power did cover those disabilities, what would the affects on the physical appearance of those people be? Would it remain as the telltale physical presence of a disability, or would those features change also, giving birth to a completely different person?

And then I had to consider wider things that are other health problems, such as starvation and aging. Would these things fall under my jurisdiction to heal? If so, what complications would come with it? I don't believe that I would be able to 'cure' starvation, as creating nourishment is impossible, and even if it were possible, how would I be able to maintain it?

Then of course is the matter of time. If I developed that power right now and lived until my 85th birthday (which is average) and it took five minutes to cure each person I saw, I would be able to cure 6,685,344 people, assuming I didn't need to eat or sleep and everyone came to me so I didn't have to spend any time traveling. But it turns out I do need to eat and sleep so if I allot myself 9 hours a day to regain strength through eating and sleeping, I would be reducing the amount of people I could help to 4,178,340.

That's not a lot of people, considering the population of the world is over 7,000,000,000. How would I decide who gets my help and who doesn't? I would have to perform the art of triage with every case, deciding whether it was worth curing. And that would make me feel horrid about myself, turning away someone I could have helped.

All in all, as wonderful as the idea of having the power to heal would be, I have decided that it would be more trouble than help, as my triage practices would start fights and people would hate me because I wouldn't heal their relative/friend/hero/politician/celebrity/neighbour/pet, etc. So I'm perfectly happy having no super power at all.

090112 Books

2012-01-09T23:11:00.002-07:00

080112 Anagrams

2012-01-08T02:27:00.000-07:00

So I found an Anagram machine on the interwebz and I have been playing with my name in it. XD So far these are my favourites:

A Rankled Inventive
Evade Van Interlink

You may have wondered where the topic of anagrams came from and why I was interested in them. Hank. Yes, thank you Hank and your presidential anagrams...

On the topic of vlogbrothers, I am currently watching ALL the videos (insert meme here). I have 765 videos to go... D:

040112 Books

2012-01-04T01:21:00.001-07:00

Oh my goodness, I have started the insane task of cataloging all the books that I own. Luckily, there is a site called librarything that makes this super easy. And yet I have been sitting here for over an hour and I have done two shelves out of the eleven that are in my room. Oh dear.

Anywho, the reason I'm doing this is so that I a)have a place online where I can see which books I already own so that I don't double-buy books (which, unfortunately, happens fairly often. I hope to decrease that...) and b)so that all of you know what books I have so that you can borrow them from me.

Really. I like to read and I think everybody should like to read. So I'm offering up my books in a free library. There's a link in my Link List (< - - over there)that will take you directly to my list of books, which, as of 1:20AM on Jan 4th, is not yet complete by a long shot. I'm going to keep working at this. To inquire about borrowing a book, contact me in whatever way you can (comments, facebook, email, a visit to my door, etc.) and I'll help you out.

020112 Ambitions

2012-01-02T22:38:00.002-07:00

Every year about this time, everyone starts talking about things that they are going to change this year. We call them 'resolutions'. And every year I despise talk about these because I know that most of them are just words, or good intentions. In my experience they usually are.

But it seems that I can't escape the thoughts! D: The one big one bouncing around my head right now is a project that I want to take on this summer: exploring southern Alberta. I have lived here all my life and seen precious little of this place that I love to call home. I have a start; a book that my parents found at a garage sale in Water Valley. I will be using that and other sources *coughinternetcough*. If anyone wants to come with me on one of my "outings" they are more than welcome; I will most likely post the dates and destinations ahead of time on Facebook/here.

Off topic: I think someone should invent 'smart shuffle' for mp3 players. For example, Song X comes up by Artist Y. It has Genre Z. You skip it. The smart shuffle would then give you another song from Genre Z. You skip it again. It will try one more time with Genre Z, but you skip it again. It will then strike Genre Z from the tracks that it selects to play for you and moves on to Genre Q. It will continue to scramble genres until you skip another track, say Song F by Artist A of Genre T. It will then repeat the method used for Genre Z to see if it stays. However, this time, you let the second one play and Genre T remains in the playlist. It then might give you another song by Artist A. You skip it and it will bring up another by Artist A, such as it would do for genres. You skip it again and Artist A is removed from the playlist.

030112 Edit: I also want to make a yearbook this year.

291211 The Last Days...

2011-12-29T00:06:00.000-07:00

Of the year, that is. As I will be at the Lodge in Lethbridge and then having a geekfest Lord of the Rings marathon with my bestie, I will not have time to post a New Years blog. I know I could always schedule one, but I really don't feel in the mood to write one out at the moment, so I'm not going to do one this year. Look back to last year's and you find my sentiments on the end of one year/start of another one.

I could make resolutions for the new year, but who am I kidding? Those kinds of things never come through, so I'll make decisions on my life as things happen to me. :3

Happy continuing time everyone.

251211 Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T01:22:00.000-07:00

Merry Christmas everyone!

If you haven't seen this short, watch it. :3

201211 Beginnings

2011-12-20T01:19:00.002-07:00

I want to talk about beginnings and other stuff. But the way in which I might talk about them may insult people (no one in particular; we may just have conflicting beliefs about things). I do not mean these things as a personal attack on what you believe, I’m just hoping that you will read my thoughts and think about them. No pressure to continue though.

This is a series of ideas that rose from a particular discussion in my philosophy class, when we were talking about the philosophy of religion and a certain Kalam argument. What I took from that discussion was the sequence of logic that the Kalam argument proposed: a) whatever has a beginning has a cause, b) the universe has a beginning, therefore c) the universe has a cause. This is where things divide and my own views mess around and make a number of haphazard bridges.

We get the two opposing sides of what caused the universe. On the religious side, of which I am a part, the cause of the universe is God. On the scientific side the cause was quantum, which caused the big bang from which the universe expanded and continues to do so. I personally believe that both are true. We cannot ignore science because it is taking a seemingly atheistic stand. The universe, and therefore the earth, is millions of years old.

When we discussed the Kalam argument in class, it came with a sense of relief that I wasn’t the only one who believed in the big bang AND God. But there was a great deal of debate (that I can’t recall). One thing everyone agreed on though was that God does not, or cannot, have a beginning. Without a beginning, God does, or cannot, have a cause. He just is.

So where did this obsession with knowing God scientifically come from? Humans, myself included, are obsessed with cause and effect. Everything that is done must have a cause and that cause creates an effect. I’m no scientist, nor do I claim to know a lot about the sciences, but from high school I know that much of science is based on studying the cause and effect of things in existence. But God has no cause, so how can science see or study him?

We cannot understand God because of who we are and how we were created. We have a beginning and therefore a cause. We see out things like us in the world around us so that we can relate to them. Because the earth has a beginning and a cause, it is easy for us to relate to earthly things over relating to Godly things. Trying to relate to Godly things frustrates us because we cannot comprehend it. God is fundamentally different from us. He rules over all.

When I say that, I mean that he sees both the beginning and the end of the universe. It’s not a never-ending line for him; it’s all bunched together in one place. God knows not of how timelines function because time is a human concept. We go through every day, hour by hour, minute by minute and we assume that everything else does to. Indeed, everything on earth goes through time the same way that we do because everything on earth has a beginning. Where there is a beginning, there is not only a cause, but a succession of events that happen in chronological order.

There is no chronological order with God. He is outside of time.

Of course, there is one aspect of God that has a timeline. It is the aspect of Jesus’ life on earth that we seek most earnestly, because it is something that we can understand. Jesus’ mortal life had a beginning, just like ours did, which makes it easier for us to relate to him. I’m not saying that this is wrong; in fact because it is the only aspect of God that is so similar to ourselves, I believe it is the strongest way to connect ourselves with our faith.

But we also have to be aware that there are parts of God that we cannot humanly understand. There are tough questions in life that are asked of those of faith and many of them cannot be answered (which serves as fuel for the people who do not follow the same faith); questions like ‘why did this happen to me?’ or ‘why does God let this happen?’. We try and try to find the cause of these things because that’s what we do as humans; we know no different. The answers to those questions cannot be answered because the answer lies in what we cannot understand.

Tl;dr? In short: Anything that begins has a cause; the universe began so it has a cause. God doesn’t have a beginning, so he doesn’t have a cause. God caused the universe through the scientific ‘big bang theory’. We have a beginning and that separates us from being able to fully comprehend God because of our limitations. God breached our comprehension through the mortal life of Jesus. Even though we can understand part of Jesus like ourselves, we can’t understand everything because God can’t be understood by humans.

151211 12.5%

2011-12-15T16:42:00.000-07:00

That's how far into my BA I am. XD

I had my last exam today and I am now FREE. At least until Jan 10, when my second semester starts.

I really don't have a lot to say right now. I might have more to post later.

131211

2011-12-13T15:18:00.001-07:00

A happy birthday to my father today, who turns 47! (even though he was convinced he was turning 46...)

And a very merry unbirthday to everyone else!

101211 Exams and the Like

2011-12-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

(This post is heavily school-related...)

So I have officially finished all the papers that I had to write and I've gotten two of them back already, with comments on how to improve. :3

I have started exams also. I had my first one today for Old Testament, which I tried to study last night but gave up because the textbook is soooo dry. D: That and I kinda wanted to play Zelda. XD In keeping with my tradition, 90 true/false and multiple choice questions took me approximately 40 minutes and I was the first to leave the room again.

I have Rep Lit on Monday, which includes an essay, which I'm not looking forward to. D: I have to actually finish reading Robinson Crusoe that I know what happens in the middle instead of just the beginning 100 pages and the last 20. XD

Tuesday is Intro to Lit, which, thankfully, does not include an essay. Instead, Tim is putting in a few sample paragraph and we have to edit them. My brain threw a mini party when he said this; talk about playing to my strengths! I need to read the last two short stories for that class also, especially Bartleby the Scrivener because Tim very blatantly said that it would be on the exam.

Wednesday is Philosophy, and I'm not really too worried about it. I was worried about the midterm because of the classes I missed, but I managed to pull out an 80% which is decent considering the class average was in the 60s. I'm looking forward to reading the funny answers Ken comes up with this time.

Thursday then is my last exam, Psychology, which isn't really an exam. It's a chapter test on the last three chapters. Not worried about this one.

After that I'm free! At least until Jan 9, which is when I start semester 2. I only have 4 classes in the new year, which I think will make things a little less hectic for me in April. My new schedule is as follows:

Tues+Thurs
9:45-11: World History Since 1500 (I'm also go to take Up To 1500 in semester 3)
1-2:15: Short Story

Wed+Fri
11:15-12:30: Principles of Sociology
2:30-3:45: New Testament

My days are a lot more compact, which means less driving back and forth, but less work hours. D: We'll see how that goes.

(My space bar is currently going through a stage of adding two spaces where there should be one, so I apologize if I missed any.)

071211 Want To Do List

2011-12-07T22:31:00.001-07:00

These are the things that I want to do when I don't have school to worry about after tomorrow:

- crayon art
- scrapbook pages
- watercolour my sketch
- read at least three books that I don't have to read
- write pieces of TWS because I didn't get to during November
- SLEEP IN.
- to be continued...

051211 Little Drummer Boy

2011-12-05T12:31:00.001-07:00

You might have seen this already. If you have, watch it again; it's good. If you haven't, watch it, it's good. XD

Good Canadian boy, wear shorts outside in the snow. X3

031211 Salvation Army Christmas iKettle

2011-12-03T18:55:00.003-07:00

You know those familiar red kettles and the jingling of bells that go with them, usually manned by a jolly volunteer who will give you a candy cane or a new year pocket calendar. The Salvation Army Christmas campaign is a regular sight in the malls.

This year I'm hosting an iKettle, where you can donate to the Salvation Army's Christmas Kettle fund online! You don't have to go to a mall to give.

I haven't set a fundraising goal because I don't want the pressure. But here's my promise: I will match whatever is donated through my kettle; up to $300.

Unfortunately the iKettle can only take Canadian donations, but don't be discouraged if you're not from Canada! Please find a way to support an organization in some way this Christmas.

Click here to Donate!

021211 Shakespearean Insults

2011-12-02T23:00:00.002-07:00

I remember doing this in gr 11 English. So much fun!

Also, 8000+ views. <3 Thanks guys.

301111 BOO-YAH.

2011-11-30T02:37:00.001-07:00

I am finally finished both of my papers that are due later today. And holycrapIhavenoideawhattoexpectonthembecausethephilosophypaperisSOOOOOOOchoppy....

Bedtiems. Bye. *passes out*

281111 Procrastination Station...

2011-11-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

I picked a topic at least. And I re-read the textbook stuff about it. Twice. Still not sure how I want to answer the question though... (topic is: "Is scientific indeterminacy good, bad or indifferent for religious belief in the 21st century?")

But I think I need a brain break. So I'm going to do the Google Verb Meme that E so nicely brought back to my attention. (vlogbrother's video regarding the meme can be found here.)

K needs help evading an assassin bent on seeing her activities halted.
K looks like a midget.
K says Tom Myers is a funny comedian. (Who the hecklebug is Tom Myers?)
K wants to keep in touch.
K does not feature in the season after that.
K hates me. (wut?)
K asks for a favour.
K likes her showers in the dark. (well, I don't mind them...)
K eats a scorpion. (as if.)
K wears her glasses. (no joke, this was the result. XD)
K was arrested for obstruction of justice.
K loves having her photo taken. (not.)

281111

2011-11-28T12:10:00.000-07:00

Still haven't written my papers....

But today is a different kind of day! Today is Cee's birthday, the author of Read On. So how about you all go over there and fill her blog with views and great encouraging comments?

261111 Higitus...

2011-11-26T21:09:00.001-07:00

Ali-i-ca-fez bal-a-ca-zez
malacamez meripides
diminish diminish dictionary
that word's in your vocabulary
Hockety pockety wockety wack
that's the way we have to pack.

I just wanted to share one of the Disney songs that is currently bouncing around the inside of my brain... I haven't even seen The Sword in the Stone!

Anyway.

I still have four papers to write; I had every intention to write my philosophy paper today buuuuuuut... that didn't happen. Which is rather ironic, considering I was thinking about writing it on akrasia, or 'weakness of will'. XD Basically, the position of free will that I am inclined to take is that of the compatibilist; who says 'You will do what you want to do, whether you want to do it or not.' Yeah. I guess I didn't want to write my paper more than I wanted to write it. XD

I made cupcakes and watched Tangled instead.

Doing Fabulous Things Backwards Always.

Link List

2011-11-25T00:48:00.008-07:00

This post contains a number of other awesome places to visit!
I don't have near enough room in my sidebar widget thing to include all of these there, so I'm adding them here!

Want to be included? Let me know! I love having other places to check regularly.

Other Personal-ish Blogs
Two Waygooks - Complete! The Mols are home now.
Narwhals and Beavertails - E's blog
Silverstreaked - Tam's blog

Other Sites of Interest
Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal Comics
8tracks
I Waste So Much Time
Rooster Teeth Home of RvB.

Youtube Channels to watch!
Vlogbrothers
hankgames
Sci Show
Crash Course
C.G.P. Grey

Other Places to Find K
deviantArt
Gaiaonline
NaNoWriMo - Inactive for most of the year
Tumblr
List of My Books (incomplete) - by all means, ask to borrow ANY OF THEM.

251111

2011-11-25T00:35:00.000-07:00

(I wrote a short story with this as inspiration. Yup. But the catch is that you'll have to read it on Art4Art (link in the sidething) when Sarah posts it later.)

"Devil" by Beast

If the sun vaporized one day
And the moon just faded away
Would we still, keep going on
At this pit of the mining pace.
Should the birds fall to the ground
And the fish die of thirst
Would we still keep on living
The way it's always been.
Now if the air could burn my lungs
And the earth were only rocks
Would it make us stop and realize
That we rot, that we can't go on like this.

Devil, oh, devil.
Why don't you tell me why
I'm a slave in these desperate times.

In this time that we could almost choose
The color of our children's eyes.
Can we still, keep going on living
When the monster turns on us
Before the sun doesn't rise one day, huh
And the moon just dies away.
There is one thing (what?)
One thing what, uh
That we'll never change
Is that we're only learning to survive.

Devil, oh, devil.
Why don't you tell me why
I'm a slave in these desperate times.

If the sun vaporized one day
And the moon just faded away
Would we still, keep going on
At this pit of the mining pace.
Should the birds fall to the ground
And the fish die of thirst
And the earth were only rocks
Would we still keep on living
The way it's always been.
Now if the air could burn my lungs
And the earth were only rocks
Would it make us stop and realize
That we can't go on
Like this.

Devil, oh, devil.
Why don't you tell me why
I'm a slave in these desperate times. [x2]

231111

2011-11-23T23:07:00.002-07:00

I just realized that my current blog background looks like a herd of rampant nyan cats stampeded across the blog leaving their rainbow excrements behind.

My brain has been damaged by these essays; obviously.

221111 Eaten

2011-11-22T19:22:00.001-07:00

I have been eaten by papers, kthxbai.

But in the meantime, I just want to point something out to the internet peoples' attention:

Art For Art

Also, fave the page on Facebook, kay?

This is a relatively new blog project intended to both share art (of any form!) created by common people and bring more awareness to some awesome home-grown talent (by that I mean Canadian musicians).

Now, I don't know about you, but I have zero/zip/nadda knowledge about Canadian artists outside of Celine Dion, Justin Bieber (still can't believe we produced that, but okay.) and k-os. All right, I'm sure I know a few others, but that's beside the point.

I hope to create a piece of fiction for the blog in the next few weeks (if school doesn't murder me first). I'm also adding this blog to my link list.

On the topic of the link list, I'm going to, some time in the coming future, create a blog post with a slough of other links that aren't in my link list on the side there and then create a link in that list to the blog post with a bigger list. This will allow me to spread more links around without cluttering up that side bar. I dislike clutter. D: So, if you have an idea of what I should put in that link post, please let me know so I can spread the love!

181111 Buried

2011-11-18T00:13:00.003-07:00

The alluring sight of the towering shelves piled with books makes my breath stop. The feeble rays of the moon filter through the dust and into the opening we have stumbled upon. Inside is perhaps the greatest discovery we have made. From what I can tell from peeking through our small hole, we had, by some amazing chance, found a tiny window overlooking a cavernous bookstore. Or it could have been a library; we won’t know until we get in to look around.

My partner looks at me sheepishly.

“Should I get the rope for you?” he asked quietly.

“You know full well that it’s your turn to descend first,” I answer.

Though the discovery of a ancient treasure such as this one is exhilarating, dangers always lurk in the forgotten shelves. The ancients, when their sources of knowledge were threatened by the overbearing presence of modern technology, started hiding the book troves, protecting them using a number of barbaric methods. The ones that survived even now were not worth messing with.

“I’ll do all the other tasks for the next three digs if you do this one,” he hustled, obviously terrified of the creatures that a labyrinth of this size would most likely hold.

I smile and reluctantly agree. I do like the adventure after all. The rocks crumble away beneath my feet as I slowly lower myself into the hole. My early assumption of hitting a window turned out to be false; there was no wall to climb down. We had found a skylight instead.

Todd takes a steady handle on the rope as I let go of the edge we had created. Despite my excitement, my hands find the rope and grip it tightly as I swing freely. Todd does a good job and I’m able to steer myself away from the shelves that clutter the floor of the cavern. I look at the books as I sink passed them; unlabelled with sorting stickers. A true bookstore then. Or a personal library. But why someone would bury a personal collection of physical literature is beyond me.

My feet softly touch the dust covered ground; at the moment it’s impossible to tell if I’m standing on ancient tile or ancient carpet. The expectant dangers do not rush at me, and for one silent moment, I am able to close my eyes and revel in the history that I have broken into.

(So, unfinished piece of an idea...)

161111 Essay Prep - "A Modest Proposal"

2011-11-16T00:14:00.003-07:00

(I promise I'll post something not school-related this weekend; perhaps some short piece that's hiding in my notebook...)

So apparently pre-writing about an essay topic is a good way to find out what you want to say about it when you have absolutely no idea. So I'm going to blather on about 'A Modest Proposal'. If you haven't read it, either go read it right now (you could always just read it here.) or stop reading this entry altogether.

So. A Modest Proposal. To be completely honest, I liked it. It's kinda weird to say that I didn't really stumble at all when Swift gave his actual proposal of eating children. It just flowed so nicely that it wasn't right to stop right there and think about it.

My essay topic asks me what makes his essay succeed.

First off, I think I need to figure out just exactly where his essay is succeeding, or if I think it is (which I'm kinda leaning towards). After making such an outrageous proposal of eating children to solve a multitude of Ireland's problems at the time, the modest proposal, (of not taxing absentees, of not buying or investing in foreign materials so as to make other nations rich (buy local), of learning to love Ireland as Ireland and not wishing it were some other country, of loving each other and standing united in the face of the ones that would seek to destroy them (the English), of not selling out country and self for pennies, of having mercy where mercy is needed and of buying locally to unite the country) seems to be less of am issue to follow.

When presented with the two sets of ideas side by side, I naturally think that I need to pick one of them. With one option being ridiculous, that leaves the other option to be very viable.
- Swifts essay succeeds by contrasting two parallel ideas that would solve problems in Ireland.

What makes the contrast justifiable, that is to say that I accept both ideas as having equal weight enough that I can compare the two of them, is the fact that the option of cannibalism is presented so rationally, with facts and numbers to back up Swift's idea. I can't help but see cannibalism as a justified option to the problems. It just seems so logical!

I think the logical aspect of the outrageous proposal completely dominates the ethical and emotional senses (logos over ethos and pathos). With logic so overwhelming, it just makes sense to me and leaves me thinking, 'why didn't anyone think of this solution before?' The other senses don't stand a chance.

Until I am presented with the other proposal, the proposal that the essay is titled for. This is the proposal that Swift wants to support, despite making the other proposal so logical that I have a hard time completely striking it off the list because of its absurdity. I know that eating other people, let alone children, is wrong; but my logos is armed to the teeth against my whimpering ethos and pathos.

It's almost as if I breathe a sigh of relief when Swift gives over his actual proposal. I can satisfy all my senses; ethos, pathos as well as logos, with the modest proposal which means that I don't have to even consider the other one anymore, no matter how much sense it made.
- Swift's essay succeeds by presenting two seemingly equally weighted ideas for my consideration; he gives me one that logically makes sense but he also, generously, gives me a second, just as viable, option as an escape from what would otherwise be the unthinkable.

In presenting me with two options, one outrageous but logical/rational and another that is so simple in thought that it should already be in motion (but isn't), Swift contrasts them and brings to light the fact that the second, more modest proposal is the one that I, and indeed the Irish of Swift's time, should have already clued into. He uses the unthinkable in such a logical way that it brings the actual problem (of inactivity/apathy) into more details; almost as if Swift is holding up obvious solution and shoving it in my face saying 'you see this? This is what we should be doing as a second nature. We shouldn't even need to consider a solution so insane when the real answer is right beneath our noses.

Thoughts About Swift's...
Tone and Voice: Swift is clearly agitated about the current state of things in Ireland. Without doing any background historical research, I already know that the Irish are lying down and taking whatever shit other nations are throwing at them. Swift is tired of the Irish fighting each other instead of standing united for pride in their own nation, in their own identity. He wants the Irish to start solving their own problems. He's upset and wants to make it very clear that he is upset.

Use of Satire and Irony against Sincerity: I know that the first proposal is meant to be satirical simply by how absurd it is. I allow myself to laugh nervously at the idea, in my head thinking 'is he seriously presenting this idea to me?'. In the following paragraphs, it is made clear to me that he is actually proposing this. And I find myself agreeing with him! Imagine my embarrassment when I get closer to the end of the essay and learn that he was using a sort of irony, telling me to think about one thing when he really wanted to point my attention to another thing. In those last paragraphs, Swift shifts from his satirical voice into one that pleads for the case of sincerity; I believe that this shift in tone (My hoodie matches the exact colour of the post-it note that's marking my place in my textbook... sorry, distracted. Back on topic!) distinguishes Swift's actual purpose. He wants me to take the second proposal seriously, unlike the first proposal, which he offered up, though incredibly logical, as a joke to spur my thoughts.

Insanity, thy name is School.

121111 Winter Semester

2011-11-12T21:35:00.000-07:00

I have picked my classes for the Winter semester. It's the first time in my life that I've had a certain degree of control with my post secondary education. My first semester I followed the suggested first year courses. But with this semester's suggestions I had a conflict of scheduling and a history class that I wanted to take the other half of next Fall semester. That left me with only three classes, which I didn't think would be best.

So I registered for Intro to Sociology (which, apparently, is easy, if the talk of the people taking it this semester are to be believed) and New Testament. I also had to pick an EN 200 level course; 'The Short Story' was the course that I picked and I'm looking forward to it. I only hope that I actually get to write short stories, not just read and dissect them. XD

So anyway, although I really want to take History up to 1500s, I also registered in History After 1500. I still have to figure out which two science courses I want to include in my decree; I need six credits there...

111111 Remembrance Day

2011-11-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

(I have a book of poetry from WWI; these poems came from that book. These three are my favourites.)

I Have a Rendezvous with Death

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And the apple-blossoms fill the air -
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath -
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
- Alan Seeger

The Soldier

Tis strange to look on a man that is dead
As he lies in the shell-swept hell
And to think that the poor black battered corpse
Once lived like you and was well.

'Tis stranger far when you come to think
That you may soon be like him...
And it's Fear that tugs at your trembling soul,
A Fear that is weird and grim!
- Arthur James "Hamish" Mann

Last Song

All my songs are risen and fled away;
(Only the brave birds stay);
All my beautiful songs are broken or fled.
My poor songs could not stay
Among the filth and the weariness and the dead.

There was bloody grime on their light, white feathery wings,
(Hear how the lark still sings),
And their eyes were the eyes of dead men that I knew.
Only a madman sings
When half of his friends lie asleep for the rain and the dew.

The flowers will grow over the bones of my friends;
(The birds' song never ends);
Winter and summer, their fair flesh turns to clay.
Perhaps before all ends
My songs will come again that have fled away.
- Henry Lamont Simpson

101111 A Year of Poppies

2011-11-10T14:58:00.000-07:00

So tomorrow we celebrate Remembrance Day, which, for your file of information that is not very useful, is my favourite statuary holiday of the year. It's a time where we remember not the violent actions or consequences of war or the stupid decisions that governments have made through history, but the brave men and women who worked with those decisions to find the best outcome for their families and their country.

Many soldiers have died for these causes and many have lived through them. We call these people veterans. We honour them by wearing a red poppy in the days leading up to Remembrance Day, to show that, yes, we remember what they have done.

But those poppies disappear a few days after Remembrance Day, and I think that's a problem. We shouldn't just show that we care for a week or two during the year. We should always remember.

Starting tomorrow, I am going to attempt to wear a poppy on my person everyday until next Remembrance Day. You are welcome to join me; in fact, I encourage it. If you don't want to, however, and you have a poppy kicking around after this weekend, I would love to have it. I have a feeling I'm going to lose quite a few and where do you find a Remembrance poppy in May?

071111 Wrong Approach?

2011-11-07T12:01:00.000-07:00

I try not to think about the Occupy protests that much. I honestly do. But when it's consistently plastered all over the news and social media sites, it's not like I have much of a choice.

I've had conflicting thoughts about these protests. On the one hand, I do agree that, economically, things have gotten out of hand. But on the other hand, I don't think that these protests are the way to fix things. If they were, why hasn't anything changed?

I think I know why.

Consider this for a moment: you're watching one of your favourite shows on TV. The show pauses for a commercial break and you're too lazy to change the channel to find something else to watch instead of the commercials. The first commercial is a fast food commercial; take your pick, there are many of them. The second is for some new gadget, a phone, computer, whatever. But you're still watching right? And I bet you haven't really given any thought to the commercials outside of a vague interest in whatever they're selling.

The next commercial is for the Drop-In Center. These commercials have a different effect on me and I would hope that they do for you too. The next one is one of those World Vision commercials with the sad-eyed children. You change the channel. Why?

Because seeing the shocking juxtaposition of our lives against the lives of the children in the commercial makes us feel guilty. But instead of trying to rectify our guilt, we change the channel to get rid of that feeling.

We live in a passive society. We think and say many things, but we don't often act upon our thoughts and speeches. You can caterwaul on the fence all you want, but your words do nothing to change the world. While your words may have some sort of effect on other people, the chance that it will make them do anything is so incredibly slim.

Back to the Occupy protests: change the person watching TV to the big corporations that Occupy's message is trying to get to. They will change the channel. Maybe because they feel guilty, maybe because they just don't care to watch that commercial. They know that a new one will be on soon.

The way to reach the so-called '1%' is not through a 'commercial', but through actions. But in a passive society, will there be any action? Will ordinary, everyday '99%' people go out of their way to help someone else first? Probably not, they'd rather someone else was responsible for that.

061111 Mind-Body Problem

2011-11-06T09:45:00.003-07:00

Because it's still plaguing me, I'm sharing my burden with you guys. Also, if by the very slim chance that a philosopher reads this, please kill my idea or fuel it. Being stuck in the unknown is just awful.

So basically the Mind-Body problem is this: We are all made of two substances: mind (res cogitans), that which thinks and body (res extensa), that which is extended. The mind is never extended and the body never thinks. The problem then, is how these two substances interact with each other to make things happen.

This is my prof's thought experiment: put a pen on something in front of you. By not touching anything, move the pen. Impossible, right? Next, move your arm to move the pen. This time it worked, didn't it? The strange thing is that our arm has more in common with the pen than it does with our mind, and yet our mind is only able to move our arm. But how is this?

My solution, I admit, is probably a student's thought and has probably been brought up in the past. I believe that our minds are infused in our bodies. Not as if they are the same thing, but different things woven together so tightly that we cannot rip them apart ourselves.

We are made in the image of God, right? God is res cogitans, that which has no form, which means that he doesn't have a 'face'. If this is true, then what image are we made in? For that we have to take another look at God. Although he is res cogitans, we clearly see him interacting with the world. He parted the Red Sea and appeared as a pillar of fire, among other things. How is this possible?

According to Spinoza, God is nature. He is in everything. But God is res cogitans and the world is res extensa, so how is it possible for God to be in everything and make things happen in the world if there is not a togetherness of the mind and body?

By this then, I say that we are made in that image of God. But we are not infinite, so we cannot be in everything like he is. Instead, we are in our bodies; our minds fused with our physical being so that we may act in this world. That is why we can move our arm and not the pen; because we are not in the pen. This is also why we cannot just send our mind into some other thing or person, because they are stuck to our bodies.

When our bodies die then, our minds are freed as the extended thing that it was tied to fails and passes away, leaving our minds with no tether to this world. Without the ability to re-tether (which I believe that no one has because this is the power of resurrection) we then return to him that sent us: God. This part we do not know anything of, merely because we have not experienced it, nor will we until we can no longer pass on knowledge to others.

Thoughts?

021111 AUGH.

2011-11-02T22:48:00.000-06:00

I'm fairly certain I've had a post titled the same somewhere along the line, but I'm not going to go look for it.

What has me grasping at the noise of frustration is the fact that I have so much due in so small a period of time. It would be easier if I wasn't behind an essay, but it still wouldn't be a joyride.

Here are my thoughts on the assignments I am currently AUGHing over:

"Acquainted with the Night" essay - The assignement says do research and I have no idea what kind of research that would entail. I would like to just look at the poem itself and form my opinion of the symbolism of night without any outside sources. I hope to remember to voice this to my prof tomorrow in person or later through an email.

Psych group paper - First off, I hate working in groups. I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to quality and content of a paper that working with someone else's levels is very challenging for me. What is even more challenging is that I missed a week of brainstorming with a group member. I also kinda got shafted with my group members because it was forming groups out of what who was groupless still. I'm working with a behavioural major who is very quiet. I don't know her though; I haven't really talked with her before so I have no idea what she's like. What is also disheartening is the fact that we disagreed on what topics we liked right from the beginning, which left me to concede to something that I don't particularly care about (alcohol advertising). I'm sure that's affecting my desire to work on the project. Oh, and it's due next Tuesday and I'm the one putting it together properly. Gah.

Philosophy Paper - I finally picked a topic: scientific indeterminacy vs religious beliefs . I looked up the key words of each topic on Google (because most of them we haven't covered in class) and that's the one that had me reading more than the first paragraph. I'm not completely stressing over this one yet because it's not due until November 30.

OT Ruth term paper - I have no idea what I'm doing with this one yet as I haven't even downloaded the assignment file.

Rep Lit "The Tempest" - It's a nice break from all the writing that I have to do and it's an interesting play. I've never read it before.

I will also have another essay coming down the pipes probably tomorrow. I'm not sure if I want to cry or not over the overwhelming amount of shit that I have to pump out of a strained mind. And of course my mind wants to think of nothing but NaNoWriMo and some solution to the Mind-Body problem that we've been discussing in Philosophy. There is nothing in my mind right now that actually wants to write these papers outside of the logic center telling me that I have to write them if I want to pass my courses (which I do.)

So, for now, I'm going to give in to my mind and go watch a movie while reading 'Barn Burning'.

011111

2011-11-01T22:07:00.002-06:00

So many ones in the title...

But what I really want to share with you today is an article from Macleans magazine.

A Phony Class War

I think it makes a very valid point about all these Occupy protests. Especially at the end, where the author tries to make people see that it should be give, not complain to get.

(Also, some graphs.)

311011

2011-10-31T22:30:00.000-06:00

It's been three weeks. It's hard to believe. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday, sometimes it feels like a month. Most of the time though it feels like it never happened. Normal? I don't know.

I'm still struggling with the question of 'how are you doing?'. I mean, I'm a whole jumble of things all at the same time. I'm doing great, I'm doing shitty, I'm doing okay. There are times when I am in a fabulous mood and then someone asks me how I'm doing and I immediately feel guilty about being able to say 'I'm doing well.'

It's also been an interesting go with all the attention we've been getting from other people. It is nice to be invited out to places; my dad loves it. But I'm a rather solitary person; I need large quantities of alone time. If I appear like I'm ignoring you it's not because I don't like you, it's just that I'm kinda worn out from all the socializing.

I'm almost caught up on homework, I just have one essay that is stalling me (see below). I'm supposed to do research on the symbolism of 'night' but I'm not sure what kind of research I should be doing. I feel like I already know what the night symbolizes.

'Acquainted With The Night' - Robert Frost
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

291011

2011-10-29T22:41:00.000-06:00

Just a little snapshot of the absolutely beautiful world that I live in. I will never forget Alberta; wherever I am in the world, I will always crave the uniqueness that is this province of mine.

271011 The Watchers' Society Synopsis

2011-10-27T20:45:00.001-06:00

In a space that is not quite anywhere is the Watcher's Society. In the Society is a Hall and in the Hall is hundreds of Doors. Behind those Doors are hundreds more Doors that lead into the bookworlds, the worlds that exist between the front and back cover of a book. It is in the Society that Watchers are trained to keep these worlds as they were intended to be: Error-free.

Corliss is the top student of her class; forfeiting social activities for more time to spend with her precious books. But when she is told that she will never be a Watcher, her dreams of exploring the books she holds dear are shattered and her existence is diminished. She is sent down to the realm of the Invisibles, the people who keep the Society clean and proper.

She doesn't feel like she belongs with the Invisibles. Instead of her work, she meanders through the halls that she once called her home, invisible to the people who once knew her. Even though it is prohibited, she still goes into the Library, craving the words that she can no longer read.

One day something was different. One day she wasn't unseen. On that day, she met Dax and her future changed again.

*spoilers start here. Highlight to read if you want to spoil the ending.*

Dax tells her of a different existence, one that is opposed by the Watchers, but she would be free to go wherever she wanted: as a Wanderer. Dax gives her a key to start her on her journey through the Doors and vanishes. Corliss wastes no time in leaving the realm of the Invisibles behind.

Corliss travels to her worlds and learns more than she thought there was to know. Eventually, she comes across the Wanderers' base deep in a cavern underground. She is welcomed into the odd family. But the happiness is short-lived; a group of Watchers attacks the base, intent on destroying the Wanderers and once again holding a monopoly on the bookworlds. Corliss runs away, leaving her new friends to fight.

Feeling guilty about her decision to flee but unsure about how to go back, Corliss finds herself in front of one of the last great mystery: a Writer. The giant, formless being notices her and begins to talk. Corliss asks it for advice, which it says it cannot provide to her. She must find the answer herself.

Corliss returns to the base to find it destroyed and completely empty. Assuming that the Wanderers have been taken captive to be executed in the Society, Corliss returns to the place where her dreams started. She conquers her instincts of running away and instead stand up for what she loves.

271011 Look Ahead to November

2011-10-27T20:15:00.000-06:00

Midterms. I am finished them. Finally. The one I had today worried me more than the other three (okay, so two midterms and an 80 question 'unit test' that just happened to fall around midterm season. Coincidence? I think not.) It was not multiple choice and it was on poems that were eitehr translated from Old English, in Middle English or sonnets. D:

Overall, I think I did well; I know I got a B on my Philosophy midterm and I'm still waiting on the Old Testament (hopefully tomorrow) and my Psychology (next week?) as well as the exam I had today.

Now I can focus on the multitude of words that I will be writing in the next month.

I have already committed myself to NaNoWriMo again; this starts my word total at 50,000 words. I have three term papers (Philosophy, Psych Research paper and the Ruth paper) which will add approximately 2500, 8000 (though only half should be written by me...) and 1200 to that total. Then I have two more essays for my Intro to Literature class that both need first drafts and final drafts and that's another 2500 words there.

So I'm looking at an expected total of around 64,200 and that's assuming that my novel doesn't exceed 50,000 words, which it probably will.

This will be an interesting month; we'll see what kinds of words I'll spare to fill a blog post occasionally.

More on NaNo in detail: I'm working on a decent synopsis right now and as soon as I'm done that, I'll put it up on my NaNo profile and maybe here also.

241011 The Flashback

2011-10-24T00:13:00.001-06:00

A 'flashback' is a literary tool used to show the past from the present. Characters have flashbacks to fill in backstory or to bring certain details or items to the reader's attention. When used correctly, flashbacks can be a very successful way to make your story interesting.

Flashbacks aren't limited to narrations; they happen in our lives as well. Usually they're brought about by some sensation, whether it be sight, a sound or a texture. There are always specific emotions attached to these sensations and the combination of the two causes the flashback.

I've been experiencing quite a few flashbacks this week and I can only imagine what the rest of my family has been experiencing. I mean, it's not like I can help it. There are so many things in this house that remind me of Connor; and rightfully so, this was his house as much as it is mine.

What's important is that we don't let the flashbacks that relate to someone who is gone rule our lives negatively. We can't let the emotion of sadness and loss attach itself to memories that are positive or we will be left with nothing happy.

Flipping back through an old sketchbook, I found something that I wrote five years ago. I remember sitting on my bunk in the Mt Columbia cabin at Frontier Lodge; on my stomach. There was no one else there. This is what I wrote:

I have a younger brother named Connor. When he was three, he was diagnosed with Hunter's Syndrome. It's a disease that limits mental capacity and restricts mobility. The doctors said he probably won't live past the age of 15. That's five more years. I remember being angry at God; asking him why he did this to my family. We were doing well, my dad was doing well at his job, my mom stayed home and my siblings and me went to school. So why then did God decide to throw this at us? i never quite understood. But now I do. Connor has brought so much joy into our lives, always living with that childlike joy that most people leave behind in elementary school. He was God's way of showing us how he wanted us to live and what was important to him. I cry when I think that one day, I'll wake up and he won't be there any more. I'd never get to see his eyes again or see him smile or hear his contagious little laugh. But then I have to remind myself of this: Connor was God's gifts to my family and when he leaves us, he'll be going to a better place to wait for us. I love Connor with all my heart and it will hurt to see him go. But he'll be with God and for that I am thankful.

Flashbacks bring us back some of the joy that may currently be absent in our lives.

181011 Consequences of Priorities

2011-10-18T15:23:00.000-06:00

Everyone has priorities; sometimes you know what they are and sometimes it take a challenging situation to reveal them. Of course, with our priorities, some things are forced to take a back seat if other ones become more demanding. This doesn't mean that they are less important; they're just not a priority.

I started back at school again after missing last week for obvious circumstances. My priorities in that case were family before everything else; which I believe is correct. But classes and coursework are also important.

This week I'm trying to catch up with what I missed last week (an exam, an assignment that was due and two term papers were handed out) and trying to keep up with this week (two midterms, an assignment and a rough draft of one of those papers) I'm already freaking out about it all.

I was talking with a friend on Facebook about priorities and how they're not easy to live with, but they're necessary. She is in her last year of university over in New York and says she's having trouble prioritizing her life between school and finding work for after school.

I think we all have problems with priorities and our mixed up priorities bite us in the butt sometimes.

161011 A Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Marie

2011-10-16T23:06:00.001-06:00

Do you remember watching Fantasia as a child? I watched it all the time; it was one of my favourite Disney movies. Of course, being horse obsessed, the Pastoral Symphony (the part with the pegasi and the centaurs) was my favourite piece from it.

But then there was the last song, that freakishly haunting 'A Night on Bald Mountain', followed by 'Ave Marie'. Looking back on it now, I have no idea how that movie didn't give me nightmares.

For your viewing pleasure, if you've forgotten:

I mean, seriously. There is a huge ass demon, ghosts, creepy masks and BOOBS. D:

161011

2011-10-16T22:00:00.000-06:00

A year ago, K&CaO hit 1000 views. Today it stands at over 6800. Thanks guys.

I'm still a little bit off-track with everything; it's like I'm running on a side rail and missing all the stations that I'm supposed to stop at. I'm super distracted; I can't concentrate on the oodles and oodles of work that I have to do for school because I missed a week and this coming week is going to be a nightmare, with a make-up exam, two midterms, a bunch of Middle English reading, an essay on a topic that I haven't received yet and an overdue assignment.

I feel as if my emotions are all jumbled up too; I would just like to get them straightened out. I don't see that happening though. I'm a little shocked how easily my brain has switched from use the present tense to the past tense when I talk or think about Connor. And I don't feel grieved. Yes, I feel sad occasionally, which brings on the tears, but lately I've been feeling like I should get back on the daily life track because life doesn't stop (even if you feel like it has)

These feelings have me suffering a little guilt; guilt at wanting to get back to the average, banal daily life, guilt at not feeling as sad as I think I should, guilt at using Connor's death as an excuse to get out of school work. I hate it. I hate this feeling and I don't know how to make it go away. I have no idea if these instances of guilt are normal or if that's just me.

I'm going to try and move forward and continue to look to the future while not forgetting the past completely. I feel as if that's the only way I'll be able to get passed things.

(Also, I looked into the counselling thing and it would cost me some extra cash to get some at school; cash that I don't have.)

131011

2011-10-14T00:51:00.000-06:00

Tonight we celebrated the life of a very special little red head who invaded our lives fifteen years ago. The service was absolutely fantastic, everything was as it should be. And the amount of people! It's a little overwhelming (Okay, a LOT overwhelming) when you come downstairs to the foyer to see people sitting there in chairs because everywhere else is full. I started to feel a little conscientious about the jar of pickles that I had in my hands...

Today was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. When we were at the cemetery, I felt no attachment to the box that was set above the open grave. I first thought this was very weird, but after I thought about it some more, I decided it wasn't weird. I didn't feel any attachment because what was present was just the physical; the mundane and mortal. What I was really attached to in my brother was his soul; who he was. And I didn't feel terribly sad because I shouldn't. He is in a much better place than I could dream of for him.

While today was not as hard as I thought it should have been, I know tomorrow and next week will be hard; when everything slips back into that 'normal' that we call life. What do we do then, when the day doesn't have any special meaning? What do I do when I have to get up and go through my day normally when all I want to do is curl up in bed and cry a little?

Luckily, I know I live in a very supportive community; though there is no one quite in my unique position, there are other people in my life who have lost loved ones and have found a way to continue day to day, one day at a time. I know there will be strength there to get me through what I'll need to get through.

The toughest question on my mind right now is whether or not it would be right for me to seek grief counseling. I don't feel like I need it right now, but it's available to me. Personally, I don't want to take it, but that's partially because I like to think of myself as someone who is strong, someone who can take the hits and remain standing. I like to think that I don't NEED help. But I might, and it might hurt my pride to admit it.

111011 Writing This Made Me Cry

2011-10-11T22:22:00.002-06:00

I have stared at death, but I feel no fear. Death is not something to be feared or dreaded. In truth, death is peaceful and beautiful. There is a sense of finality that cannot be understood by human minds, and that is why we fear it.

Monday evening, we had a family meeting to discuss something very difficult. The oxygen mask on Connor's face was drawing out his life and putting off what we knew had to come. His body was slowly dysfunctioning beyond repair. After a quiet talk and many shed tears, we agreed that the best thing for Connor was to take the mask away.

That was the hardest nod of my life; I don't think I could even put a word to it because of the emotions and the uncertainties that surrounded the decision.

We took the mask off and his breathing slowed, creeping into fog-shrouded realm of the threshold of heaven. His face paled. He opened his eyes one last time and looked into my father's face, as if to tell him that it was okay, and as a final sign of love. He then closed his eyes and peacefully passed away, without pain, without suffering. He took Jesus by the hand and walked away from the disease that had altered his life.

After my sobs and gallons of tears that had been lost all weekend, this moment capped them all. Such was the sense of peace that descended on me that I found that I did not cry easily; I was able to look at the body he left behind and smile. He wasn't there anymore; he was free, running, playing and laughing in heaven.

His little body looked like it was sleeping.

I will admit that I am a little terrified of my reaction to all of this. I thought I would be an inconsolable heap of emotions, but I haven't been. Even when everyone around me breaks into tears again, I don't. I feel guilty for not showing the same kind of grief as everyone else, almost as if by not crying every time we talk about him that I insult his memory.

But I also believe that this is a gift from God. I asked him for comfort and peace in Connor's passing and that's exactly what he gave me. I think most of my sorrow was destroyed when I put my pencil to the paper and let God show me what to draw. There is no way I could ever produce something like that without influence of the spiritual kind. And I have been told by many people that it is beautiful and that it means so much. My oma, my grandpa and my dad have told me that that picture is truly what they needed to see, which proves that it is not my drawing. It's God's drawing.

Today I went with my dad, my grandpa, Kyle and Jill to the funeral home to help there and later with my dad and my mom to the cemetery. I usually stay as far away from these kind of places as I possibly can, because of the emotions. But this time it's different. I felt as if I needed to prepare myself, to show my mind what is coming and what to prepare for. Knowing the details of the arrangements is just something that I needed.

I know that the next part of life is going to be tough; once the busyness of the burial and the celebration is over, things will slide back into routine. I will return to school and homework and tests and papers. I will go back to my schedule of working. I will go back to the little things that make my day, my day.

But one thing is missing now. A large piece of my life is about to be completely altered, changed forever with no way of going back. I will break down and cry in the future and nothing will be able to stop me until the memories have leaked from my eyes once again. I do not know how long the unpredictable will continue, but I am fairly certain I will be spending the rest of my life with moments like that. And I think it's fair; a price for the incredible little boy that blessed my life for fifteen amazing years. All the memories, all the laughter, all the good times and even the bad.

When he came into our lives, our family (and by flow of logic, I) was set apart from the ordinary family life. But we adapted and we thrived. Connor was a brilliant beam of sunlight in our bleak, grey lives. He taught us the important things in life. I would not be who I am today without him.

I do not know what the future hold. On Thursday, we will be celebrating his life with those who shared it with us. Already my family is worried that the church is not going to be big enough; he brought so many people together and made them love him through his little nuances and the memories he brought to us. There is so much support around us and it is all because of Connor. We will make it through this, together.

Such is my love for him that one thought clouds my mind: if I ever have children and I have a little boy, his middle name will not be after my father or my grandfather or my opa or any other relative, but Connor. I cannot give that name as a first name, out of respect for who Connor was. There can never be another Connor in my life.

Live on, my little fighter.
Live on in the big perfect world that you have left this broken one for.
Live on and do the things you could not here.
Run, dance, sing and quad.
Live on with all your little habits and all of your character.
Kick dogs and babies, eat cheese however and whenever you want, chase the cats
But never lose the love that we have given to you.
Never lose your vibrant personality.
Never lose your giggle, your precious, unique little laugh.
We loved you and we will love you forever.
Never, never forget us, as we will remember you always.

111011

2011-10-11T15:01:00.000-06:00

Thank you for all the overwhelming support and the memories that you have all shared with me! I will treasure them forever.

I plan on doing a big "debriefing" kind of post later, when I'm able to concentrate on putting the emotions together as they are supposed to be and finding someway of communicating them gracefully and up-to-par with who Connor was to EVERYONE.

I just wanted to let you know that the celebration service will be Thursday evening at 7:00PM at Emmanuel CRC. If you would like to join us, you are more than welcome to. My mom asks that somewhere on your person you wear a token of orange; socks, underwear, a flower, a hat, a tie, whatever you have, because orange was Connor's colour.

101011 Connor

2011-10-10T18:35:00.002-06:00

At 5:40 this evening the LORD took Connor by the hand and took him home.

While he will be missed immensely, he is now in a better place, a place where there is no pain, no crying and no sickness.

Please, do not say you are sorry for my loss, he is, as I said, in a better place. You have nothing to apologize for; you did not take him away from me. Do not give me your condolences; I will instead take something else from you, something much more precious. I will take your memories.

Please share with me your memories of Connor. Here, as a message on facebook or as an email to kaitykat89@hotmail.com

101011 Thankfulness

2011-10-10T15:00:00.000-06:00

(This is a scheduled post, in case you're wondering)

This year, especially these last few days, I've been reminded how much I have to be thankful for.

I have my immediate family, which of course includes Connor. I am incredibly thankful for the fifteen years that he has been part of my life and there are so many memories that I can't begin to recall them all just like that. He has taught me so much and much of what I am today is from what he has taught me. I think God knew what he was doing when he gave Connor to us.

My siblings have shown their maturity in the past few days and I'm thankful for their presence and love that they've been showing. My parents have been incredibly strong and I'm thankful that they've been able to be with us in our struggles as they deal with their own struggles.

The community around is definitely a huge part of what I'm thankful for. There is no way to even begin to describe the feelings that the community brings. We have a massive prayer web that covers the entire world and that on its own speaks hugely.

I have to branch out now; to the world around me. I've started school and I'm thankful that I've been able to make the transition smoothly.

I've been able to keep my work schedule steady and flexible and I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful for the small stuff, the little nuances in life that often get overlooked.

There is just so much that I'm thankful for, I can't think of them all at once! So to everyone, thank you!

101011 Night Update

2011-10-10T00:02:00.000-06:00

Kyle, Lauren, Jill and I are all at home again; mom and dad stayed at the hospital again tonight, as did my oma. There really isn't anything new to report, he's been fighting steady all day. I can tell that his breaths are a little more laboured now than they were earlier today. He's still on the morphine so he's still very relaxed.

This waiting game is what is getting to everyone. We don't want the status quo because the status quo is hard to watch. It's hard to watch him struggle like this.

Each member of my immediate family has a different way of dealing with this situation. My dad is an unshakable tower; he rarely leaves my brother's side. He's either in the bed with Connor or in the chair right beside him. My mom is very emotional and needs time by herself in order to digest all of this. Luckily, Connor's room up in Unit 3 is still available to us and my mom has been using it just to get away for a bit.

I'm not completely sure how Kyle and Lauren are coping, but I think a large part of it has to do with Jill being there with Kyle and Morgan being there with Lauren. Having someone there to talk to just helps sometimes.

As for me, I believe God has acted on my sentiments in my last update. I've come to feel a semblance of calm, this peace to the inner storm. I have no other explanation for it than that. It was a gift and I'm going to treasure it.

To help alleviate some of the pent up emotions I started writing in my notebook. It's very disjointed and all over the place; hopefully I'll be able to make sense of it later. I also brought my sketchbook and a pencil. I did draw something, but I'm not ready to share it yet. I will tell you that it made everyone (including the nurse) cry, so there's your warning.

Thank you again and again to everyone who has gone out their way to pray and help us out. Here's to hoping and praying that tomorrow will show something other than the status quo. <3

091011 Midday Update

2011-10-09T15:18:00.000-06:00

Lauren and I are taking a brief escape from the hospital so that we can shower and bring some things back to the hospital with us for my parents, who haven't left since Saturday morning.

Connor is stable. He is hooked up to oxygen at the highest rate the staff is allowed to give him. They've removed the tube that was going down his nose into his stomach for comfort. They've also added a small dose of morphine to his IV. This means that while he's still struggling to find his breath, he's in a very relaxed state, which is what we want for him right now.

But the truth is hard and sometimes it just has to be spat out there, like a piece of moldy bread. That oxygen mask is keeping Connor's will to live alive right now. If we do not witness a miracle, taking that mask off of him will result in his passing.

It's hard to come to accept that truth, but I feel as if I'm slowly getting there. I feel like I've cried more in the last 24 hours than I have in my entire life, and yet my body is still able to find some source of liquid to create more tears.

We have such a wonderful supportive community that I've had someone to cry with since I got the hospital yesterday. There has been overwhelming support in the way of visits, food, Facebook comments and, most importantly, prayer.

All I ask of God is for peace. There is a ferocious storm in my heart right now and I do not have the power to calm it by myself. I need my Lord to command the waves to be still and the winds to be silent. I need the warm comfort of his arms around me. I need that reassurance that Connor will taken care of. I don't want to let him go but deep in the storm I know what would be best for him; my humanness just doesn't want to admit it.

Please God, please...

091011

2011-10-09T00:06:00.000-06:00

Update (and back story) for the night: Connor is in the ICU; he stopped breathing this afternoon and had another seizure. They brought him down to the ICU and put him on the biPAP machine (which forces air in and out of his lungs because his lungs weren't working). After about five hours the nurses/doctors decided to (with my dad's suggestion) try just oxygen, because he was fighting the biPAP machine. His heart rate and resp rate have come down and his SpO2 levels are still good, so the staff has decided to give him the night to rest and continue with treatment (including tylenol, antibiotics and a chest x-ray) in the morning.

^This truly is proof of the power of a community.

081011

2011-10-08T19:41:00.000-06:00

This is not a happy post.

My sister and I were on our way to the acreage for thanksgiving when my sister got a text from my mom. My brother has been in the hospital all week with respiratory issues and he started breathing really hard in the past few days. The text told us that he had been admitted to the ICU and was on a bipap.

(a bipap machine is a breathing machine that both pumps O2 in and sucks the CO2 out again)

We changed course and headed to the hospital. My parents told us that the doctors had already told us that things don't look great.

The point I want to make here is the overwhelming sense of community. Minutes after we arrived, so did Mandee and Mark, and Leon and Teresa. A short time after that it was Grandpa and Grandma, Karen and Albert, Nancy, John, Trent and Morgan, Laura and Jeff, Aaron and Monique and Pastor Matt. Pastor Ed drove in from Rocky Mountain House.

We have an amazingly supportive community of friends and family around us; I'm sure that there are hundreds of people out there right now who are praying for my brother right now. I don't know if we could get through this without them.

As of 19:30 tonight, Connor is stable; we are waiting for Kyle and then we are going to take the bipap mask off. We don't know what that will result in.

My mom just said that we're praying for two things: if God decides to take Connor home tonight, we pray that God would take him quickly. If God lets him stay with us, we pray that he heals him quickly. It's the situation that we're in right now that is really difficult.

Please join our prayer army; I will update here and on Facebook if anything major happens.

071011 Word Fail

2011-10-07T19:03:00.000-06:00

All right, you know the essay that I mentioned? Or at least, I think I mentioned it... anyway. That was the first essay that I have written in four years and I am proud to say that I eked out 72%. I'm okay with that.

What really got me going, however, was one of the errors I made. Occasionally, I will use a word that has no place being used in that context, but because my brain has made the executive decision that it belongs there, I don't notice it as wrong.

The word in this case: courtesan.

My brain should have selected the word 'courtier', but it didn't. It got the two mixed up and all was hunky-dory. Until my prof got a hold of it. XD

In case you don't know (or haven't Googled it by this point) 'courtesan' means 'prostitute'. XD 'Courtier', on the other hand, means 'a person who attends a royal court'.

So I just about died laughing when I looked at the scribbles on my handed-back essay that pointed out my fail. XD What made it even better was the last comment of the comments added on the last sheet: "Language is very accurate. For the most part." XD

041011 Calgary NaNo Meet-Up Dates

2011-10-04T18:20:00.000-06:00

So, I got the email today with a list of the events that are planned for this year's craziness. There are as follows:

Kickoff Party - Tuesday October 25, 6 pm to 8 pm
Ricky’s All Day Grill - Chinook - 6262 Macleod Trail SW
Let’s get together as a group and start NaNo in style! There will be some get to know you activities, some introductions, a lot of good chatter, and some exciting handouts/give a ways. Come out and get some swag!

Midnight Kickoff - Monday October 31
Let’s get together as a group and start NaNo the way it’s meant to be started - by writing crazily as a group at midnight! As it is Halloween, costumes are OPTIONAL, though encouraged. Alternately, you can join the midnight chat kickoff in the chat room (details to follow).

Tuesday Night Write-Ins - Tuesday November 1, 8, 22, 29
Come on out for some yummy food and some conversation and some friendly writing competition that’s certain to increase your word count!

Sunday Write-Ins - Sunday November 6, 13, 20, 27
Much like the Tuesday write-in, but on a Sunday and during the day!

Midway Bash - Tuesday November 15
An exciting midway party to celebrate being halfway there! There will be laughter! And crafts! And maybe prizes! Note that this will be the same time as the normal Tuesday write-in, so no need to book a separate night off!

12-hour Write-In - Saturday November 26
A crazy, 12-hour long chunk of noveling insanity! You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll make lots of new friends, and you’re guaranteed to add to your word count (I average 10,000 words on this day without hardly trying)

TGIO (Thank Goodness It’s Over) - Saturday December 3
A (somewhat tired) send-off to the craziness of November and a serene welcome to the (relative) calm of December. There will be celebrations and commiserations, there will be celebratory food and drink and there will be certificates and prizes. Come out. You want to celebrate your achievement, don’t you?

If any of the Calgary Wrimotaurs are interested in going to any of these, let me know!

031011 Re-Organization

2011-10-03T22:19:00.001-06:00

(So I'm supposed to be writing an explication right now, but I'm not. D: )

I have taken some time to go and reorganize all the tags in all 387 posts on this blog. Here are what the new ones are (with links that will bring you to the posts with those tags):

Daily Life: These posts have content that relates to my everyday life; what I might be going through at a certain time or announcements of any personal sort.

Faith: These posts have to do with matters of faith; where I either wrestle with an idea from a Christian perspective or quote scripture.

Introspect: These posts reveal something about me, bits of my personality and me discovering who I am inside. Sometimes these posts are highly personal and many people who don't know me well won't get where I'm coming from on some occasions.

Lyrics: Simply put, these posts contain lyrics to songs that I either like or are stuck in my head at the time of posting.

Misc Info: Basically anything that doesn't fall into the other categories. This tag will be applied to any information that I import into the blog to share or to the things that I am passing along as facts, not opinions.

Rants: Oh yes, the rants. If you've read most of my blog, you know I can be a little hot under the collar about some things and ranting about this is the only way to clear my head. Most of these posts have no structure, sound incredibly silly and are in no way correct. C:

School: Now that I've started school again, this tag will appear under posts that have my school work or things at school as a theme in the post.

Writing: Plot bunnies, tidbits of ideas, freewrites, short stories, ideas that pertain to other piece of writing, etc.

These ones are very specific tags that fall inside the 'Writing' tag, but I need to be able to find them quickly on their own:
NaNo: Any post having to do with National Novel Writing Month. Most of these posts will appear in November.

LoM Related: Any post that has information pertaining to my Land of Magic series that I've been working on for years.

Watcher Related: Any post that contains information on my newest novel, The Watcher's Society (2011 NaNo project!)

Windmaker: The thirteen or so posts that contain my story "The Windmaker".

021011

2011-10-02T14:10:00.000-06:00

It might be strange to know that I have an odd passion for the topic of death. A little morbid, isn't it? But I can't seem to help it; death fascinates me. Some people will go on and on about poems that have topics of love, or nature, but it's the ones that mention death or give some allusion to death that get me paying attention.

I don't know what it is about death that just grabs me. I've never been able to deal with death well when it occurs close to me in life (the mere thought of those occurrences make me a big blubbering ball of tears) I've never been able to stomach the idea of going to a funeral.

And yet, my fascination with death continues. Need examples? One of the big characters in my previous books is a character that is the physical representation of death. I also tend to pay more attention in school when we're working with sonnets that touch on the topic of death and dying. One more to prove it: I have a book on my shelf that I special ordered (because it wasn't in stock anywhere) titled 'Death'.

I think part of this particular fascination has to do with my brother and what seems to lie in his immediate future. But that's just one incident; there has to be other causes for this, hasn't there? What could make me so drawn to this morbid topic that other people prefer to ignore?

I also have a different view of death than some people, as I believe I've already outlined somewhere else in this blog. I don't believe that life and death are opposite forces - when you die you don't cease to live. Instead, I argue that death is the opposite side to time - when you die you cease to experience time. But life continues; either you continue to live in God's presence in his kingdom or you continue to live in damnation.

Do you have any 'peculiar' passions that you don't understand?

011011 Disney

2011-10-01T00:06:00.003-06:00

I have subjected myself (willingly!) to an abundant amount of Disney lately thanks to 8tracks. So this post is going to be a collection of thoughts on Disney.

I just finished watching Princess and the Frog and I have to add another character to my favourite character list. Here are my favourites as they stay right now:
Cheshire Cat - Alice in Wonderland
Iago - Aladdin
Tigger - Winnie the Pooh
Bagheera - The Jungle Book
Meeko - Pocahontas
Grandmother Willow - Pocahontas
Charlotte - Princess and the Frog
(I've just noticed that aside from my newest addition, they're all animals. Or other, non-human things. XD)

I grew up with Disney movies. They were nothing digitally spectacular and that's why they've become classics. With new movies nowadays (Ha, I used nowadays. I feel... odd.) everything is about the special effects and the 3Dness (made up a word!) and getting as much money as they possibly can. But these movies quickly pass from our minds as new ones come out. A website recently asked me if I had to watch one movie and only one for the rest of my life, which one would it be? I had a mini battle in my mind over which Disney movie I would pick. Seriously.

I need to find our VHS to DVD recorder and get all my Disney movies in a current-age format. D:

I've also been thinking about the "age" of Disney movies. I recently watched Hunchback of Notre Dame again and there was a lot in that movie that was out of the reach of children; it was aimed at the adults that would watch it. And if I think about it, there is a lot of this happening in other Disney movies (Anyone remember the end of Fantasia? How did that not give me nightmares as a child?). I would like to approach this side of Disney as a side project; exploring both the "R"-ratedness of the movies AND I would like to dip into the stories back histories by reading the story that the script came from - if one exists.

I've already read The Jungle Book (Rudyard Kipling) and Alice in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll) and I'm going to try going for The Little Mermaid (Hans Christien Anderson) and The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Victor Hugo) next. Other books that I will need to read: (if you have these and would like to lend them to me, that would be awesome!)
Snow White - Brothers Grimm
The Adventures of Pinocchio - Carlo Collodi
Bambi, A Life in the Woods - Felix Salten
Cendrillon - Charles Perrault (English Translation needed)
Peter Pan - J.M. Barrie
La Belle au Bois Dormant - Charles Perrault (English Translation needed)
The Hundred and One Dalmations - Dodie Smith
Robin Hood and the Monk - English folklore (if anyone can find a non-Middle English version of this, I would be much obliged!)
Winnie-the-Pooh, various stories - A.A. Milne
The Fox and the Hound - Daniel P. Mannix
La Belle et la Bete - Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont (English Translation needed)
One Thousand and One Nights - Arabian folklore
Ballad of Mu-lan - Chinese Legend
Tarzan of the Apes - Edgar Rice Burroughs
Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
The Frog Prince - Brothers Grimm
Rapunzel - Brothers Grimm
The Man Who Would be King - Rudyard Kipling (okay, so not a Disney movie, but still one of my favourites)

As you can see, I have a lot of reading to do. XD

290911

2011-09-29T02:53:00.001-06:00

So I wrote an essay last night...
This morning...
Spanning across both last night and this morning. It seems to be when I write things the best.

But anywho. For being the first essay I've written since my English diploma in 2007, I think it was fairly decent. I have no idea was to even a guess to what kind of mark I'm going to get. We'll just have to wait and see.

It leads me to think of the essay in its essence. I suppose there are a few professions where you need to know the function of an essay and how to write one properly, but is it essential to our regular working lives? Or is it going in the same way as (f)x= or n!?

I'm not a proper essay writer. I'm absolute crap at putting together a proper thesis and defending it properly. When I write on an opinion that I happen to have, I just write whatever I want. It usually resembles an essay in form, but it is not, in anyway, an essay due to the lack of structure. I like writing when things flow naturally without being forced into certain forms.

260911 Of Staffs and Snakes

2011-09-26T21:22:00.003-06:00

So I finally received the Prince of Egypt DVD that I ordered nearly a month ago. I'm watching it right now actually. But I had something on my mind that justified pausing the movie to get out of my head.

You might be familiar with the story of Moses or you might not be. The full story can be found in Exodus; I will only be covering a part of it right now.

There is a certain section of the story that always has me baffled and grasping for some sort of explanation: Exodus 7:6-13. It says this:

Moses and Aaron did just as the LORD commanded them. Moses was eighty years old and Aaron was eighty-three when they spoke to Pharaoh.

The LORD said to Moses and Aaron, "When Pharaoh says to you, 'Perform a miracle,' then say to Aaron, 'Take your staff and throw it down before Pharaoh,' and it will become a snake."

The Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and did just as the LORD commanded. Aaron threw his staff down in front of the Pharaoh and his officials, and it became a snake. Pharaoh then summoned wise men and sorcerors, and the Egyptian magicians also did the same things by their secret arts: Each threw down his staff and it became a snake. But Aaron's staff swallowed up their staffs. Yet Pharaoh's heart became hard and he would not listen to them, just as the LORD had said.

What concerns me the most is "and the Egyptian magicians also did the same things by their secret arts". How did they accomplish such a feat? Did the Egyptian gods have some sort of power? Or was it God, creating tension so that he could continue to show his magnificent works (like he did when he hardened Pharaoh's heart against letting the Jews go)? Or, as the movie seems to suggest, was it simple trickery; a flashbang and a quick change of staffs and snakes?

I suppose, in the end, it does not matter 'how'. We can clearly see by this work alone that God's power was superior to anything that opposed him (" But Aaron's staff swallowed up their staffs"). It's just a curious thing that a curious person like myself would like to know.

[Added]
It might also be curious to note that while Pharaoh's magicians were able to replicate the results of the staff-to-snake, the water-to-blood and the coming of the frogs, they were unable to continue their results after that. When the plague of gnats descended upon Egypt, they gave up and told Pharaoh that it was the work of God, not them and not the Egyptian gods.

[Aside]
I'm also curious about what the plague of darkness felt like. The Bible tells us that the darkness could be felt (Ex.10:22). What kind of darkness carries such a presence that it not only affects our sense of sight, but also our sense of touch? (Would it then also affect our senses of hearing, smell and taste as well? What would darkness taste like?)

I have been to the Crystal Caves is South Dakota twice. Both times, on the walk through the caves, you come to a large platform where the guide tells you to go to the edge and hang onto the railing. He then turns out the lights. My hand was right in front of my face and I could not see it because there was absolutely no light to see by.

But that darkness was just an absence of light. I did not 'feel' it. And the darkness in the cave was somewhat discomforting. I can only imagine how much more so the darkness that can be felt would be.

240911 Pottermore

2011-09-24T16:40:00.003-06:00

Last night, after Jill and I returned from OVO by Cirque du Soleil, I checked my email. It had almost become a habit; checking daily, even hourly, for that ruddy owl with my letter. Last night, it finally arrived.

It was hard to believe it. X3 I'm such a nerd. The first thing I asked Jill was 'how late are you willing to stay up tonight?' and she guessed it from that.

To document!

I've finished as much of the story that has been released but I won't give away too many details; just as they pertain to me.

I was sorted into Slytherin. Bit of a shock, actually, but after reading a bit more of the description, I've come to terms with the fact that I might just be a Slytherin over a Ravenclaw. D: Slytherins can be smart too you know.

This was the Slytherin welcome message:

Congratulations! I’m Prefect Gemma Farley, and I’m delighted to welcome you to SLYTHERIN HOUSE. Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures; our house colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. As you’ll see, its windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by – and sometimes more interesting creatures. We like to feel that our hangout has the aura of a mysterious, underwater shipwreck.

Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin – and a few you should forget.

Firstly, let’s dispel a few myths. You might have heard rumours about Slytherin house – that we’re all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and rubbish like that. Well, you don’t want to believe everything you hear from competing houses. I’m not denying that we’ve produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three houses – they just don’t like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you’ll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent.

Here’s a little-known fact that the other three houses don’t bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house! Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?

I didn’t think so.

But that’s enough about what we’re not. Let’s talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school. We play to win, because we care about the honour and traditions of Slytherin.

We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you’ve got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.

But we’re not bad people. We’re like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood.

For instance, we Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you’ll be glad you’ve got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we’re concerned, once you’ve become a snake, you’re one of ours – one of the elite.

Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You’ve been chosen by this house because you’ve got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there’s something great about them, and don’t you forget it.

And talking of people who aren’t destined for greatness, I haven’t mentioned the Gryffindors. Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represent two sides of the same coin. Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn’t mean that we cosy up with Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them.

A few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he’ll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don’t ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn’t like it.

The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.

Well, I think that’s all for now. I’m sure you’ll like our dormitories. We sleep in ancient four-posters with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins cover the walls, and silver lanterns hang from the ceilings. You’ll sleep well; it’s very soothing, listening to the lake water lapping against the windows at night.

My wand is made of pear wood and has the core of a unicorn hair. It is 12 1/4 inches long and slightly springy.

Notes from Ollivander on the wood and core:

Pear

This golden-toned wood produces wands of splendid magical powers, which give of their best in the hands of the warm-hearted, the generous and the wise. Possessors of pear wands are, in my experience, usually popular and well-respected. I do not know of a single instance where a pear wand has been discovered in the possession of a Dark witch or wizard. Pear wands are among the most resilient, and I have often observed that they may still present a remarkable appearance of newness, even after many years of hard use.

Unicorn

Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard.

Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may 'die' and need replacing.

Based on that, I don't think being in Slytherin will have any affect on me turning into a Dark Wizard. My wand simply won't have it. XD

OH, if you are on Pottermore now or in the future, send me a friend request and let me know via comment or Facebook which name is yours. <3My username, as mentioned in an earlier post, is EyeQuill103

220911 Studying Tools

2011-09-22T00:52:00.002-06:00

Just a few things I've found helpful while trying to study or do homework. These are what work for me; they may or may not work for you. You may also have some of your own methods that work. By all means, use those. I just wanted to share mine.

Pen and Paper: Put the computer away when taking notes. Seriously. Yes, most people can type faster than they can write, but that is ultimately the downfall of taking notes on a computer. By using a humble pen and paper, you are forced to slow down and listen to what the teacher is saying. When you type, you become a transcriber instead and the words go right through you and onto the word document. With a pen, you are forced to take what you are hearing and shorten it into your own words so that you can write it down without missing more of the lecture. The act of thinking about what you are going to write is what makes the words stick.

8tracks.com: Or any music playing device/website. I personally like 8tracks because they have a wide variety of mixes to choose from and you aren't limited to the music on your iTunes that you've listened to a dozen times over. I find that it's important to listen to either instrumental music or music with lyrics that are in a language you don't understand. If there are understandable lyrics, I find myself singing along to them and my brain loses focus on my work.

A Cup of Tea: Or a bottle of water, or a coffee, or a hot chocolate, etc. Your brain is 78% water, so to keep it working properly, you need to stay hydrated. My personal choice is blackcurrent tea with a swirl of raspberry honey... yum.

Distractions: I'm not saying spend fifteen minutes on homework and an hour on Facebook. I'm saying that short fifteen minute breaks during your homework will actually help you concentrate better. So go ahead, check Facebook or your emails or whatever every once and while to give your brain a break. Or, better yet, get up and go outside. Change your scenery and get a bit of fresh air to give your brain a dose of mental caffeine.

A Good Dictionary: You can use an online dictionary, but it's best to find one that has a lot of background information on the word that you're looking up. Dictionaries (and thesauri) come in handy when you're writing for an assignment and you can't quite come up with the proper word or when you're reading a novel and come across a word with an ambiguous meaning. Don't let yourself be confused; find out the exact word.

Those are my top five; I could add more about time frames and time limits and environment, but I won't. I'll let you discover that for yourself.

210911

2011-09-21T16:44:00.001-06:00

Re: 150911 Death of a Poem

I was worried. I submitted my work (the bottom one) and expected 70% for the slurry that was my assignment. I got to class last Thursday and Tim (my prof) put a sample up on the screen so that we could compare. My grade expectation slipped to 50%-60%. Mine was nothing compared to the sample! Mine was half the size and not nearly as thorough.

I got mine back today and.... 7/10. I was ecstatic that I actually got the mark that I was expecting. Am I a little sad that it wasn't higher? Yes, an 8 or a 9 would have been great. Next time, next time...

Maybe. XD

190911 six thousand and a dislike

2011-09-19T22:55:00.002-06:00

(6000 views! Thanks guys!)

I do not like Psychology very much.

On the flip side, I like Philosophy very much.

So I'm going to use something I've learned in Philosophy to describe the relationship between Psychology and myself.

Previously, I have talked about the Greek archetypes that were used in ancient Greece to teach. One in particular is a story called the Danaids.

(from this site.)

The Daniads were the fifty daughters of Danaus, who were descendants of the Nile dwelling Io. The Danaids' cousins were the fifty sons of Danaus's brother Aegyptus, and each had wishes to mary the Daniads. The reaction of the daughters was something like, "Eww!" and they refused to marry their cousins.

The Daniads fled with their father to the island of Argos where they were recieved well by the Argines and promised protection from the sons of Aegyptus. When the sons of Aegyptus arrived to fight for their brides, they were of course denied because of a law that prohibited any woman to be married against her will.

For some strange reason, the story stops at that point briefly, and picks up at the wedding of the Daniads to the sons of Aegyptus? Why? We don't know! We do know, however, that they still did not wish to be married to their cousins. We know this because at the wedding feat, Danaus is shown giving each of his daughter's a dagger to murder their husband that night. Each and every one of them did with the exception of one. This daughter who refused to kill her suitor was named Hypermnestra..

On the night Hypermnestra was supposed to kill her bridegroom Lynceus, she found she could not do it. She forgot her promise to her father and sisters and helped Lynceus escape. When her father and sisters found out what Hypermnestra had done, they were not happy at all. So her father imprisoned her for her disobedience.

There are two endings that have been written to this story. One ends right where Hypermnestra is thrown into prison by her father. The other ending says how Hypermnestra was later reunited with Lynceus and had a son with him. Their son's name was Abas, the great-grandfather of the Greek hero Perseus.

As for the forty-nine sisters, they were forced to carry water pitchers for eternity full of holes. They had to take water pitchers to a river, fill it up, and take it back...somewhere. However, since the jars were full of holes, they had continue this chore for eternity.

What I really want to point out here is the last paragraph; being forced to carry water in a sieve for all eternity. This was an endless and pointless task that they could not escape from.

That's kinda how I feel about Psych. I was reading my textbook a little while ago, trying to be diligent in learning this stuff but it just doesn't stick. It goes right through my head without leaving a smidgen of information. And I'm not sure what crime I've committed that I've been condemned to suffer through this class in which I have absolutely no interest.

I hope that as we get passed the biology part of Psychology it'll start to get more interesting to me and I'll be able to show some sort of desire to learn this stuff.

And now for something lighter:

http://blogs.howstuffworks.com/2011/06/14/what-does-english-sound-like-to-foreign-ears/

180911 Death and Taxes

2011-09-18T12:58:00.002-06:00

Those are the only two things that are certain in life, right?

I know taxes aren't the nicest thing to think about. They rank down there with flat tires and energy bills. But in our capitalist societies, tax is what keeps the country running as a whole.

Now, I'm not an expert on taxes or levels of taxes; I generally get most of mine back in April after filing my return. But I do want to weigh in on my opinions about taxing the rich.

I'm for it.

If Person A makes $50,000 a year and Person B makes $5,000,000 a year, who should have to pay more taxes? Person B, right? Because they can afford it. But in reality, Person B wiggles through loopholes to get out of having to pay more taxes, leaving Person A to hold up government funded-operations, even though they both use the system.

Some people might say that Person B deserves to keep his money because he has worked hard for it. Well guess what: so has Person A. So we're back to the point where the difference between Person A and Person B is money (an perhaps situation, but that's a different story altogether).

I don't know how taxes work. In my mind, you should pay a certain percentage of your net income. So if Person A's net was $40,000 and Person B's was $4,500,000 and the tax was 10%, they'd be paying $4,000 and $450,000 respectively in taxes.

Now this might seem like an inbalance, but you have to look at it a different way: Person A now has $36,000 and Person B has $4,050,000. Does it look so lopsided now? Person B still has WAY more income that Person A. Even if you add an extra 10% to that second income ($405,000) Person B still has more.

If the tax system is left the way it is, we are going to create a Robin Hood scenario. The rich will be so rich and the poor will be so poor that an insurgence will rise up to steal what the rich have so that poor can survive. We shouldn't let this situation get that far.

(the article that fueled these thoughts: [link])

151911 Death of a Poem

2011-09-15T00:14:00.001-06:00

That is, a literalization of a poem. D: From this:

1 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
2 But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
3 How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
4 Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
5 O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
6 Against the wreckful siege of batt'ring days,
7 When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
8 Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
9 O fearful meditation! Where, alack,
10 Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
11 Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
12 Or who his spoil [of] beauty can forbid?
13 O none, unless this miracle have might,
14 That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

to this:

How can beauty (which is weak) stand up for itself with any strength when its enemy is Death (stronger than all other forces on earth)?
What defence can beauty build when Time can knock down the strongest rocks and gates?
What a terrible thought. Where can beauty hide?
How can you stop an instinctive action?
How do you stop the destruction of beauty?
You can’t, unless, in some way, my love wins the fight.

I like reading poetry, occasionally I like picking at it to find meaning or an overall message. But to completely strip of it of its beauty right down to the bones of the language it's written in is just disgusting. That's like somehow taking all the different colours from van Gogh's Starry Night and reorganizing them in rows by their colour value. It's just not the same piece of art. Sure, all the colours are there, but the beauty is gone.

And it's kind of ironic that we started with this sonnet, as it is about the weakness of beauty in the face of the gears that drive everything into oblivion.

130911 Save the Dates!

2011-09-13T22:59:00.001-06:00

If you're not part of Emmanuel CRC's Youth Group, you can disregard this post.
If you're not part of it, but you are in grade 7 to grade 12 and would like to be part of it, read on and ask me questions if you want. :3

These are the dates that we will be having Youth Group from now until Christmas. I have also included tentative activities, but that's no guarantee that's what we'll be doing on that day. So, just plan on coming to all of them, okay? C;

September 25th - Okay, this one is solid; it is happening. We are going to float in big rafts from Bowness to Edworthy (on the Bow). I've been told to ask you to bring a change of clothes in case you do get wet.

October 14 - This is the night we are planning on doing backpacks for Streetlight Ministry again. This year we hope to have Stephanie and Matt Corbel, who have been helping out at Streetlight come in and show us the results of last year's backpack giveaway.

October 30 - We want to carve pumpkins and have hot dogs over a fire at the Bouwmans. This still needs approval.

November 11 - Because it's Remembrance Day (Also Make-A-Wish Day, but that's not really recognized) we were thinking about watching a war movie. If you have a suggestion, please let me know. Another idea would be for us to visit the military museum if they're open that day.

November 27 - We want to bring back the old Advent Dinner with a twist. While we would get the first few courses elsewhere, the main dinner would be at the church. After the evening service, we would invite the congregation to have dessert with us. (Don't know what the Advent Dinner is? Fire me off a message and I'll let you know!)

December 9 - Traditionally, we have had a Mall Hunt as our Christmas party and we would like to continue this tradition.

120911 The Long Tradition of Boredom

2011-09-12T13:33:00.002-06:00

Imagine for a second that you are driving down a two lane highway through the mountains. Your ideal speed is 110/km an hour. You're cruising along when you come across a car going 90/kmh. You would like to pass that car, but the double solid line on your left says that you legally cannot. Around the corner the lines change to their dotted format, allowing you to stream passed the slower car. You feel a sense of exhilaration as the car disappears from view.

You come across another car going slower than yourself. But the line is dotted right away this time. You pull out to pass and notice a car coming at you in the other lane. Back behind you go. This continues for the next four passing opportunities. You feel frustrated and the joy you felt at passing the last vehicle is long gone. Finally you get ideal passing conditions and around you go. The joy returns

Just down the highway is another one. And after that, another one. And again, another. The line of cars in front of you is never ending. You will never get to the front of that line and not have to worry about passing another car ever again.

I have a strange feeling that I'm going to like Philosophy more than I thought I would have. On Friday we discussed the Theory of Boredom. We covered the Greek archetypes of Prometheus, Sisyphus, Ixion, Tantalus and the Danaids; which tells us a) that we should not desire what is beyond ours to obtain or you will suffer for eternity (Prometheus), b) we will labour continuously/without end (Sisyphean task/Danaids) craving some sort of relief/distraction(Ixion) and c) that we will never be satisfied by the things that we crave.

We also briefly covered Lao Tze and Epictetus. The Lao Tze way around discontent is this: 'the path is where the woods are not'. Basically, avoid the obstacles in life/never desire anything and you'll be eternally happy. Epictetus says 'Do not seek to have events happen as you want them to, but instead want them to happen as they do happen and your life will go well.'

To go back to the visualization that I provided, we can see the Greek archetypes reflected in the pointless struggle to pass the cars that come up in front of us even though we know that ahead of that one car is endless more. But once we pass, our satisfaction is short lived. We crave those passing lanes that open up when going up a hill so that we don't have to worry about the obstacles. If we go around to the Lao Tze and Epictetus ways, they say that we should check our speed and just be part of the line without trying to pass anyone.

Intro to Philosophy: you're going to hear a lot about it I think. XD

070911 First Day

2011-09-07T20:45:00.001-06:00

My first day at Ambrose went better than my struggles with the website and orientation did.

I started today (after working three hours) with REL 120; Interpretation of the Old Testament. I thought that maybe this was going to be a boring course and whatnot, but it sounds pretty cool already. We'll be taking a look at the historical context, the literary world and the contemporary world surrounding the Old Testament. The term paper is going to be on Ruth and it's only 1600 words; which is less than one day of NaNo.

The second class was PH 125; Intro to Philosophy. I really thought I was going to hate this course right from the get-go. But with a prof like Ken, how could it not be interesting? I swear, the guy must be a tennis ball or something, he kept walking across the entire front of the room during the class. And he's the 'no bullshit' type of guy, which I like.

Sunk $140 into textbooks already (ouch) and I have no idea which ones I'm going to need for tomorrow's three classes.

I'm officially a student now, so I guess you can prepare to see posts about student life and the like.

050911 Back To School

2011-09-05T21:32:00.001-06:00

This year is off to a great start!

Or not.

I have a few gripes about Ambrose before I even start classes there.

1. Their student portal/website doesn't work on Chrome. Now I may just be biased, but I believe that Chrome is the best browser available and to not have something work on it is just silly. I use Chrome for EVERYTHING, so having to open up Firefox just to do school stuff is a pain in the arse.

2. Trying to find information on certain things (like dates and times of events) is frickin' impossible on the website. Either it's buried on some page that takes a ton of work to get to or it's not there at all.

3. Important information that should be passed on to the student body isn't. How hard is it to send out a mass email with details, for example, of orientation? I missed orientation and while I am partially to blame for not confirming details, this mishap could have been avoided altogether if an email had been sent out with the date and time of orientation along with the invitation to come.

4. I can't find a campus map on the site. So this is going to make Wednesday an absolute party of a day trying to find my classes on time. D: At least the campus isn't huge.

5. Parking information and where to buy parking passes.

This list is not cool Ambrose and it's making my life even more stressful than going back to school is supposed to be.

020911 NaNo '11

2011-09-02T14:58:00.004-06:00

Because one of my old NaNo buddies has confirmed that she's not participating this year, I thought I would clarify my own intentions: I WILL be doing NaNo this year. It's another challenge for me ('09 was the challenge of doing it the first time, '10 was a challenge because I was on vacation for part of it), NaNo '11 will take place during my first year of university in English Lit. Which means I'm probably going to be writing more than 1667 words a day when all is said and done. XP That's not going to change my mind though. This year's story is a break away from my regular 'world' of fiction; I'm starting something completely new that I'm totally stoked for. Title and teaser will be given sometime in late October. :3

300811 New Project

2011-08-30T00:31:00.001-06:00

I've been thinking of writing something where the direction of the story is directly affected by your, the reader's, feedback in the way of a poll. After each chapter, there will be two possible options for the story to travel in; you'd be able to pick the option that you think would make a better story.

Kind of a write-on-my-feet kind of experiment, where I wouldn't be able to plan the ending until the second last chapter.

PLEASE let me know what you think about this. I know interaction between me and reader has been incredibly lacking and I would like to know that I would have some feedback on the direction of the story before I start thinking about it more. D:

290811 Material Things

2011-08-29T17:42:00.001-06:00

I still don't know why this kind of stuff is making me upset.

I like to read through the statuses that show up on my News Feed on Facebook. It's interesting to see what other people talk about. I came across one today debating house prices and neighbourhoods. It was all fine and dandy until someone said that they wouldn't give up their huge house and two new trucks to live close to church/school.

Other people added comments afterwards that made me feel better; like not being able to put a monetary value on living close to church and to a Christian education. So I'm not in the same mood I was when I read those first comments.

I know everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I'm not trampling that. I'm questioning my own reactions.

I've been trying to narrow down my life to push away all the extra little indulgences that our culture tells us that we need to have. It's been going somewhat successful; I don't feel the urge to buy everything that I want, I can sit back and ask myself if I really need that (the answer is usually no)

I know that while I can do this in my own life, I can't force other people to see things my way. They are entitled to think that there is a ton of importance in their spacious homes and new vehicles. I know a lot of people do think likewise. But it's not my values.

So why do I feel upset when I read things like that?

270811 The Interrobang

2011-08-27T00:06:00.004-06:00

THANK YOU SO MUCH JOHN GREEN FOR INTRODUCING ME TO THIS FABULOUS, UNRECOGNIZED PUNCTUATION MARK!

So frequently in my writings, I use both the '?' and the '!' in my dialogue to give a sense of a surprised/exclaimed question. In normal life, this is quite normal. However, MS Word continues to point out to me that this is not proper grammar. And because I'm using it in dialogue, I promptly ignore Word's suggestions.

HOWEVER, thanks to the vlogbrother's Aug 26th video, I have now learned of the existence of a fusion of the '?' and the '!'. It's called the 'interrobang'. And it looks like that thing over there. <--

From Wikipedia: The interrobang, interabang[1] ( /ɪnˈtɛrəbæŋ/), ‽ (often represented by ?! / !?), is a nonstandard punctuation mark used in various written languages and intended to combine the functions of the question mark (also called the “interrogative point”) and the exclamation mark or exclamation point (known in printers’ jargon as the “bang”). The glyph is a superimposition of these two marks.

I have just perused through Word's symbol list AND IT IS THERE. It now has the keyboard shortcut ctrl+/, which will give me easy access to it. XD Now let's see how often I use it...

Does it copy over to blogger?: '‽' It totally does. How awesome is this? Is it okay to be this excited about a punctuation mark? XD

And look, you learned something new today!

240811 Neutral Riddle

2011-08-24T23:30:00.001-06:00

You think you're good with riddles? And even better at interactive riddles? You've tried the
escape from the room flash riddles? (Can't remember what those ones are called, sorry!)

Well, try your brain with this one:
Neutral Riddle

There are hints for the first six or seven levels, then you're on your own. I've been working on these riddles for over an hour and I'm at level 12. Derp.

240811

2011-08-24T12:25:00.001-06:00

There's something on my mind right now that's bothering me. And I don't know the answer to why it's bothering me.

My brother recently suffered another seizure and was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. During this time, a lot of people have offered their support, like-faithed and not.

There's one particular person that woke this feeling. I'm not going to say names and I'm only going to tell you that he's not a Christian. He offered to do his religion's version of praying for my brother.

This is where my brain gets shaky. I don't know how to think about this. On one hand, I'm glad that he's willing to support my brother in his own religious way (isn't that what we all do?). But on the other hand, it seems weird. He doesn't believe in the same God I do. And I believe that God is the only God and he is the only one that can grant healing.

Do you see my conundrum? Will God hear my friend's version of prayer, or will he not? I know there are other people praying for my brother, but every prayer counts, doesn't it?

There's so much surrounding this issue I just don't know what to think anymore.

220811 Cruisin' for a Cause

2011-08-22T23:23:00.002-06:00

Hey Calgary folk! This Thursday is Cruisin' for a Cause at A&W. For every Teen Burger sold that day, A&W will donate $1 to the MS Society of Canada.

We will be at the Signal Hill location in Calgary at 6:00PM. Please join us if you can!

I have a grandmother and a cousin that suffer from MS. Our extended family wants to support them in their daily struggles with this disease.

If you're not in Calgary or are busy that evening, please stop by a different A&W or a different time and buy a Teen Burger to support the MS Society!

For my American friends, I do not know if the American A&Ws are also participating; there is nothing on their website.

http://www.aw.ca/awhome.nsf/cruisin-for-a-cause

220811 The Fig Tree Withers

2011-08-22T22:53:00.002-06:00

Early in the morning, as he was on his way back to the city, he was hungry. Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves. The he said to it, "May you never bear fruit again!" Immediately the tree withered.
Matthew 21:18-19

I was flipping through Matthew on the hunt for things for a different project of mine and my eyes stopped on this text. I remember reading it before and having the same feelings. This passage seems to hint at Jesus getting angry. (We all know what hunger can do to people's minds...)

Jesus' scene in the temple where he went ape on the vendors there proves that he got angry, but that was a righteous anger. What anger is this then, that he would kill a tree because there was no fruit on it? Is there an underlying message here?

(The passage does go on to explain that faith can kill trees and move mountains...)

Edit// So I looked at a few commentaries on that passage and they say that the fig tree is a motif for Israel, who had been failing to produce fruit. When they rejected Jesus as the Saviour, that was the end of the line for them.

Windmaker Recap

2011-08-21T22:24:00.002-06:00

First off: SPOILER ALERT. If you have not read The Windmaker (the short story that I've been posting in pieces since April) this post will make no sense to you. Reading it before the story will also spoil things for you (hence the spoiler alert).

So, I started the Windmaker story with a few purposes in mind. One was to see if I could write continuously on a deadline. Kinda failed on that one.

Another was to see if I could write something that distinctly had a bad ending, or an ending that 'shouldn't have been'. Part of me doesn't like it when a story ends the way you think it should end, with everything working out in some way. In The Windmaker, things aren't finished off. It doesn't happen the way that you're led to believe it should end throughout the story. I really had fun with that initiative, so I'm willing to overlook the failure of the first goal.

The last one was to see if I could write something that had motifs and things that referred to other things. The three fruit, for example, show a message of what Farren learned during that particular experience. Though it's not named in the Bible, the apple is usually know as the fruit of knowledge, so I used it as Rom's fruit. A date is frickin' sweet, which leads to 'revenge is sweet, but justice is sweeter'; of course, Tahl is all about justice. And the starfruit was a bit of a stretch. In ages past, people would navigate the seas with the help of the stars. And of course, Farren acted as Ekbote's 'star'.

The one other thing was the rhododendron plant. You must have been thinking, why on earth did she choose that? Rhododendrons are often a symbol of danger, so having them grow around Belshar's home and later throughout the town was a way of letting on to the danger that was present in the Windmaker's anger.

This was a fun experience for me and I would love to know what you guys felt about it. Did you like it? Not like it? Best/Worst part? Any feedback at all?

THE WINDMAKER: Epilogue - Elsewhere

2011-08-19T15:26:00.002-06:00

That night, a terrible storm engulfed the entire island. Witnesses on the only vessel to leave Windcatcherton that night told tales of a howling maelstrom of black wind that torn at the very land itself. The strength of the wind hurried the small ship pushed them quickly away from the island and the destruction that was now upon it. Farren slept uneasily in the hull.

Weeks later, Farren found himself in a small pub somewhere on the outskirts of the islands known for growing a bean called coffee. He had taken a liking to the bitter beverage that the people made from the small bean. Conversation drifted over from the table beside him.

“Yeah, Captain Charles sailed there two weeks ago. There is nothing left,” one grisly sailor said.

“Yeah? Nothing?” one of colleagues replied.

“From what I’ve heard, even the wood and stones from the buildings in the town is gone; sent into the ocean. No one survived; there weren’t even any bodies to pay respects to.”

“What caused it?”

“Word has it that some chap from Trades was sent there to destroy the Windmaker. But he flubbed up big time and ended up setting the Windmaker free. The Windmaker then went on a destructive rampage on the entire island in vengeance.”

“And the Trades chap? What happened to him?”

“Well, no one knows for sure. He hasn’t turned up back in Trades, so most people are assuming that he was on the island when death descended.”

“Serves him right, killing an entire island with his actions.”

“Even if he did escape, he’s not welcome in Trades anymore. He’s forever an outcast.”

The conversation turned away from the most popular topic of discussion across most of the world. Farren took a sip from the mug in front of him and brushed some of the bread crumbs out of his new beard. Things definitely had not worked out the way he had expected them to.

130811 Hunting for a Quote

2011-08-13T12:08:00.002-06:00

There's a quote in one of the songs off one my favourite album's; "City" from Beast's self-titled CD. At the end of the lyrics is a sound clip of a very enthusiastic speaker. I listen to it a few times and managed to get the following from it, but there's more and I want to know what the full clip is.

"Can you feel it?
Can you feel in your heart -
- sharp teeth -
Teeth that're gonna cut right through that cage, your rib cage
And devour the world
Feel the terrible hunger, that constant pulse
How do you feed that incessant hunger?
How do you satisfy your needs?
What sacrifices do you offer the demon in the pit,
That bottomless pit that you hide inside?
Is anything ever enough for you?
Will you ever have enough?
Enough food, enough sex, enough money, enough power, enough love, enough [objects?]
Will you ever have enough?"
(the '-' signify where there are words, but I can't understand them. D: Square brackets are a guess.)

I did manage to find out that the speaker's name is Tyrone Benskin, who, funny enough, is actually a politician now.

If anyone has any thoughts on where else I can look (Google is not being very helpful to me right now) I would love to hear them. Or, if you happen to know where I can get the sound clip with a script of the speech, I will love you forever.

THE WINDMAKER: The Judgment

2011-08-13T02:44:00.003-06:00

(this is the last chapter; after this is an epilogue and that's it!)

With his bag over his shoulder, Farren stepped out of the manor directly behind Belshar. The Windmaker paused for a moment and took a deep breath of the chilly air outside of the manor he had been trapped in for ages. His whole body moved with the first breath of freedom.

Without looking at Farren, he strode down the path that Farren had come up the other day. For some strange reason that Farren equated with being part of travelling with the Windmaker, they made it to the little copse of trees in just over an hour. Belshar powered right passed it and climbed over the last hill separating them from the valley.

Belshar paused again to look down at the valley that had once been his. Farren caught up with him and looked at his face. He immediately wished he hadn’t. In the Windmaker’s eyes was the smouldering fire of anger and betrayal, he hadn’t forgotten even for a second what the people of this island had done to him. He breathed again and kept moving.

The entire journey from the Rhododendron House to the town took only twelve hours, despite it having taken Farren the better part of two days on his own. Both of them were completely silent the entire trip.

Farren could only guess at what the Windmaker was thinking; his own thoughts churned on what he had just released back into the world. But he sincerely thought that the people of Windcatcherton would see this as an opportunity to get their lives back to normal. And who knows, maybe they would be able to rework their initial agreement. It was, after all, severely outdated.

With the sun in their eyes, Belshar and Farren walked into the town. Everyone was standing out on the street that ran into the main square of the town; boys out in the fields had spotted them coming and had run back to warn everyone.

There were no sounds, only stares. Stares of wonder at Belshar and his majestic appearance and stares of accusation at Farren. Each pair of eyes bore into Farren’s skull and added to the growing guilt that was collecting in his mind. Had he done the right thing?

Belshar scanned the crowds of people, his eyes seeing no one in his desire to see only one person. She wasn’t there.

A small child wiggled out of the crowd and walked over to the Windmaker despite the urgings of her parents to stay back. In her hand was a piece of paper, folded over in the shape of a flower. She held it out to Belshar.

The Windmaker accepted in curiously and the girl skipped back to her parents, who quickly left the streets scolding her. Belshar carefully unfolded the paper and glanced at the familiar handwriting inside.

Belshar;

You may look for me all you like, but I am not here. Like you, I do not forget. Your actions towards me in the time of the curse were unforgivable.

I still love you, but at this time, I cannot be sure that my love is still returned. I will be content for now to know that you are free and I will be watching for your love for me to return to you.

Until that day, you and I will continue to be separated.

With all my love, Zunel.

Belshar spent a few minutes reading and rereading the note left by Zunel. At once, Farren thought he might have seen tears glisten in the corners of Belshar’s eyes. But if they had existed they were swiftly crushed. He folded the paper into a small square and tucked it into a pocket that Farren hadn’t known existed.

“B-B-Belshar,” one man finally said, breaking the tension in the air. Belshar’s eyes flicked towards him.

“You still know me,” he stated, not moving from his position.

“How could we not know you?” another man scoffed bravely. “You have been a thorn in our sides for centuries.”

Other accusations burst forth from the crowd, which was gaining momentous courage at every shout. Belshar stood still and listened to the words flying at him. When they had been exhausted and everyone had had their say, Belshar took his turn.

“I gave your ancestors winds to run their town and to help their way of living. My only concern was being taken advantage of, of men becoming greedy because of my gift. Your ancestors ignored my request and started to sell my winds for their own gains.

“I requested that they stop and return to our agreement. Instead of complying, like they said they would, they hired a despicable man to work a curse on me through a seemingly harmless pie. All these years I have suffered under the affects of that poison, toiling in pain.

“To this day, you continue to use my winds to fuel your own greedy lives, to take in what you believe you deserve. How can you deserve something that you’ve never worked for? Why should my pain and confinement equate to your success?”

Belshar waited for answer. At last one man, the mayor, stepped forward. He was a direct descendant of the man who had grown the fruit that had become Belshar’s poison, though Belshar did not know this.

“Great Windmaker, we have been working on eliminating our dependence on the wind trades so as to return to your original agreement between our people and you. You’ll understand that we cannot cut it off completely all at once; our economy would suffer from immediate loss and we would not be able to live here any longer,” he explained, bowing slightly in the Windmaker’s presence. Belshar’s eyes narrowed.

“How have you been reducing your dependency? I see the same amount of wind farms as before in the valley.”

“But there were many more before you came down!”

“You are lying to me.” Belshar’s eyes bore down on the mayor’s cowering form. “Do you think that I am blind? I can see the jars and pots tucked in every corner of this deceitful town, waiting for the winds to come and fill them again.

“You are doing nothing to return to your agreement!”

Belshar turned and walked straight back the way he had come. Farren remained behind, watching as the Windmaker that he was responsible for freeing disappeared into the mist of the twilight. He had a bad feeling about this.

Farren asked at several inns for a room for the night, but in the space of a few hours he had become infamous in the town as the man who had come to destroy the Windmaker and instead set him free. No one wanted to be associated with him in any way.

The night air was chilly. Farren walked down the streets and eventually found himself back in front of the fountain that he had first heard Zunel’s plea in front of. The algae was still there, as were a few reeds. But there was a new addition to the fountain and to the small courtyard that housed it. Dark red rhododendrons had sprouted out of nowhere and were taking over the area.

Farren backed out of the courtyard and darted back into the main street. The rest of the town looked much like the courtyard did. The tantalizing scent of the flowers floated on the evening air with a distinct taste of danger.

Having seen the manor, Farren knew that these flowers were loved by Belshar. What he intended to do, Farren didn’t know. He went with his instinct and left the town.

There was a small vessel sitting in the dock below the cliff. The captain had come to the island hopeful that there would be a few jars of wind for him to carry, but was disappointed when he was told there weren’t any. He huffed when Farren asked for passage off the island.

“You picked a good time to come down boy, one of my men decided to stay in the town; seems there’s some girl he’s taken a fancy too,” the captain explained.

“Thank you. Can I give you one piece of advice?”

“What?” the captain asked, put out that a greenback would offer him advice.

“Leave right now.”

The tone of fear in Farren voice was enough to convince the captain. They sailed away from the island a little while later. Farren never looked back.

110811 Short: Black Canvas

2011-08-11T23:30:00.002-06:00

(should have been working on The Windmaker, but this came out instead. Oh well.)

“The truth behind the identity of our elements lies within us. Inside, there is something that is called a ‘soul canvas’ that shows the true colours of our magic.”

“So, there’s like a billboard in our heads?” one student mocked. The class laughed.

“In a very strange way, yes!” The teacher clearly didn’t see the humour as everyone else did. “In regular, everyday people, the canvas is white-”

“Whoa man, you callin’ a brother white?” another student broke out. “That’s not cool, man, not cool.”

“I’m not referring to the colour of someone’s skin. Think of it instead blank piece of paper, waiting for paint. Only, it’s not paint that gets splashed onto the canvas in a unique way. You all remember your junior high science classes about light?”

Some of the students in room nodded in boredom.

“Who can tell me what colour light is?” the teacher asked.

“Is it white?” said the second student. “Racist science.”

“No, you idiot. Light is not white,” said a student in the second row. “Light is all the colours in existence blended into one, which we then see as ‘white’.”

“Very good! And why do we see certain colours?”

“Because specific surfaces reflect only a part of full wavelength of light, leaving behind a spectrum of colour that we then see with our eyes.”

“Yes! And magic works the same way!” He rushed to the board at the front of the room and grabbed a piece of chalk. He drew a rectangle.

“This is a soul canvas. Now, as I was saying before, regular people’s canvases are white because-” He took the chalk and drew several arrows flying at the rectangle, then several arrows flying away from it again.

“Because their canvases reflect the full spectrum of magic,” the student in the second row said, completing his thought.

“Exactly!” the teacher exclaimed enthusiastically. He seemed to be teaching directly at the girl in the second row now. “That’s how we can tell what elements certain people command when we look at their canvases. For instance, a big splash of orange with a smear of green would signify a mage heavily talented in Earth magics with a hint of Wood magic tucked in there with it.”

“Is it possible to see other people’s canvases?”

“Very rarely, someone will turn up with the ability to see other people’s canvases. It’s not a very common gift and is very highly treasured by many organizations out there. Of course, with a little training, everyone can see their own canvases.”

Outside the classroom, a bell chimed and dozens of chairs scraped against the floor as the other students moved to leave the classroom. There was minor chaos in the traffic at the door for a few minutes, then the room was quiet again. The student from the second row had stayed behind.

“Your blue paint looks a little bit like a cat chasing a yellow bird.”

“That’s what I always thought too...”

The teacher stopped and looked up at her with surprise.

“How did you know what my canvas looks like?”

“I’m one of those people, like the ones you mentioned. I’ve always been able to see other people’s patterns,” she explained monotonously.

“This is brilliant! In all my years of teaching this topic, I have never met someone like you! Is it fabulous, being able to see them?”

“Well, I suppose it is, but I wouldn’t know the difference, would I? Look, professor, there’s something I want to ask you. You seem like the right person to ask; if anyone is to have the answer it would be you.”

“What?”

“I saw a canvas before I came here that troubled me a little. I didn’t understand it.”

“What was on the canvas?”

“Nothing.”

“A regular person? Why did they trouble you?”

“The canvas wasn’t white, professor.”

The teacher waited for the student to continue.

“It was black.”

The words shook the teacher enough to make him take a few steps backwards, where he bumped into the desk and almost fell over. Griping the edge of the desk, he looked up at the girl.

“Black? Are you sure?” he gasped.

“I’m positive.”

He rushed over to one of the several bookshelves in the room and pulled a few books off of them. He rifled through them before stacking them on a nearby desk. More and more books came off the shelves, but he still couldn’t find the book he was looking for.

“Sir?”

“There is one book in my collection that mentioned black... I thought it was a curious reference. At first, I believed that black signified a mastery of all the elements, but the colours on a canvas don’t mix. A master would simply have a very colourful canvas. This book,” he took a book off the top shelf, “said something very different.”

At that moment, the door opened and a very proper looking gentleman walked through it.

“Edvard, I was wondering if I could have a word with you,” he stated, ignoring the student that stood off to the side.

“Just a second headmaster,” Edvard called, his eyes quickly searching the words in the book. “It’s in an old tongue, it takes a bit to translate. Ah, here it is.”

He fell silent. The headmaster took the time now to look around at the student.

“And who are you?”

“Ah, I’m Bailey, sir,” she answered nervously.

“What is he looking for?”

“Well...”

“I found it!” Edvard hopped over the desks towards them. “But this, oh... this can’t be good. I’m glad you’re here actually. This... sounds dangerous.”

Both the headmaster and Bailey crowded in closer. The words in the book were indeed old, they looked like a different language to Bailey.

“What are you looking at?” the headmaster asked.

“This student here; Bailey, did you say your name was? She can see soul canvases.”

“Oh? And this warrants some panic?”

“No, no,” he waved his hand at Bailey.

“I saw someone with a black canvas,” she explained. “I didn’t understand what it meant, so I asked.”

“And here it says... that black is the colour that represents the Void. But why would someone have that on their soul canvas?” Edvard continued. The headmaster visibly paled.

“A Voider,” he whispered.

“Pardon?”

“A Voider. A person that is capable of absorbing all magic and negating whatever it was instructed to do. There hasn’t been a Voider in many years. If this is indeed the case, we may be in for a rough ride.”

110811 Desires

2011-08-11T16:45:00.002-06:00

"What do you want?"

I want answers; honest, true answer. I'm posting this here so that people can be completely honest without having to worry about the social consequences.

Please do answer, I'm sincerely curious.

080811

2011-08-08T22:28:00.001-06:00

This past weekend I celebrated my 22nd birthday. It was quite a great day; it was quiet and I got to go out to the acreage with both of my parents. The day before I got into Pottermore and I found out that for my birthday my parents are getting me a new windshield and an oil change! (Yay necessary wishlist items granted!)

Also, I got some 'gifts' that I wasn't expecting. I listen to Kool 101.5 quite often and on the weekends they play hits from the past. This past weekend just happened to be 1989. And there was that massive storm that blew through Calgary causing mayhem (I love storms). As we were driving out to the acreage, I got to see a full, complete, end-to-end double rainbow.

It was a very good day.

THE WINDMAKER: The Windmaker

2011-08-05T06:58:00.001-06:00

(I realize the title is a little redundant today... XD)

Farren was mesmerized by the swirling in the boy’s eyes. It was as if he was a ship being tossed on an endless sea of thrashing waves.

A roar filled the room. Farren torn himself away from the hypnotic eyes and dove through the door into the hallway as the wardrobe smashed into the bed that he had been sitting on only seconds earlier.

Beyond the doorway it looked like a tornado was trapped in the room. He couldn’t see anything except the angry swirling of dust. Something materialized in the cloud and shot towards Farren; he ducked as his bag slammed into the wall across the hall. Farren stared at the bag in disbelief before whipping his attention back to the door.

The storm had gone now and so had the boy. Standing in the boy’s place, with his back to Farren, was a large man.

Everything was silent as the new reality settled in. Slowly, life seemed to come to the man. One by one he moved the muscles throughout his body, loosening them from the years that they had been confined. His bare back rippled.

Farren shuddered but couldn’t find the guts to tear himself away from the sight and run. Instead, he watched as the man lifted his head and turned to face the stranger.

The man’s face was firm, like a man who had seen many wars and survived everything. He was completely bald with a short, pointed beard of stiff white hair. Around his waist was a studded leather belt that held up a warrior’s kilt. Around his body Farren could see scars; scars that had been made by the poison that had held him prisoner for centuries.

He took a step forward, towards the door and Farren. He took another step and Farren snapped. He stumbled backwards and fell, landing on his back.

The man towered over him, glaring down as Farren’s breaths came in short, uneasy gasps.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his deep voice reverberating through the manor. All the lies and stories in Farren’s mind fled, seeking the refuge of some place where they would never be heard by the man.

Farren took a deep breath to compose himself and began to tell the true story and the real reason he had come.

“I come from the city of Trades, far away from here. It is a busy city where everyone has a purpose and everyone is busy. There is no place for someone who can’t figure himself out. There’s no place for someone like me.

“The governor announced a contest in which one person would have the chance to be richer than anyone. With that much money I wouldn’t need to figure myself out, I could just do what I wanted and not care. I got that chance.

“They sent me to find... you, the Windmaker. To stop you from destroying the wind trades here.”

Farren paused and looked up, realizing how futile a goal that was now. His eyes glanced up into the Windmaker’s eyes. They still swirled with the unstoppable storm. There was no emotion on the Windmaker’s face. He waited for Farren to continue with his answer.

“I found Alesandese who told me of the riddle to finding you. I went to Rom, ignorant in my views of the world. He taught me that some answers can’t come from a book, they have to come from within. He gave me the apple and sent me to Tahl. I... I used Tahl’s lust for the truth and justice to buy the information of Ekbote’s whereabouts; she left me the date. And Ekbote... Ekbote was as lost as I was. He sent me here with the starfruit.”

Belshar continued to look at Farren with disguised interest.

“You came to destroy me. That was your mission,” he stated. Farren swallowed hard and nodded. “Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you destroy the fruit when you learned what they were?”

“I met Zunel.”

The air in the hallway suddenly became cold and an illusional darkness descended on them. For the first time, Farren saw emotion in the Windmaker’s face; a weary kind of guilt settled on Belshar’s face.

“Zunel...” he whispered.

“She... she begged me not to destroy you, but to help you,” Farren continued.

“You I am conflicted about,” Belshar said, his face returning to it’s emotionless state. “You have confessed that you came to destroy me for your own gains. But your actions contradict your goal.”

Another moment of silence came between them, Belshar’s eyes boring into Farren’s.

“You are lucky that I judge men by their actions and not their words. Your life I will spare.”

“Spare? What?” Farren exclaimed. Belshar turned and walked towards the stairs.

“I will not kill you. But the men of that town, they have harmed me with their words and with their actions. I cannot let that go passed me. I am akin to my sister, there must be justice.”

“But aren’t you also the brother of Ekbote, the one who gave life and peace to men?” Farren spoke quickly, without thinking. His breaths drew shallow again as Belshar stopped on the top step.

“You make a valid point, Farren,” he agreed. “What would you have me do then?”

He looked at Farren with such an intensity that Farren was forced to take a few steps backwards. He knew this was a loaded question, but Belshar waited for an answer regardless.

“Come to the town with me. Give the people a chance to apologize, to set things right,” Farren proposed. “Meet them. They are a different generation than the one that trapped you.”

“I will come to the town,” Belshar stated and kept walking. Farren followed him. “I will listen. And I will make my judgement. When I make it, there will be no turning back. My decision will be final. Is that clear?”

Farren had no choice but to nod in agreement. He scooped up his bag and sighed. He truly hoped that the people in the town had enough wit to escape their own demise.

040811 Pottermore

2011-08-04T11:16:00.004-06:00

In more depth, I got in! My 'selected' (you weren't allowed to pick your own, which totally bites) username is EyeQuill103.

If you have gotten in also, let me know your usernames!

030811 A Birthday/p.56, 5th sentence

2011-08-03T20:39:00.001-06:00

Today is August 3rd, the day that my mother celebrates her birthday. Though she wasn't feeling her greatest today (surgery yesterday and all) I still think she had an okay day. Here's to many more mom.

---

This has surfaced on facebook again, and this time, I've compiled a few for you. You're supposed to take the book closest to you, open it to the 56th page and write down the 5th sentence without telling anyone what the book is. Well, I picked a bunch of my favourites. Some of them are easily guessed by a name in the sentence, others not so much. See how many you can name! (The answers are in the comment below)

Harry lost track of time.

Though it would not be dark for several hours, he was suddenly impatient to get home so that he could gather his things together before his parents and Teti arrived.

A cry from Grishnakh showed that this was not mere jest.

'Unless you want to walk a little further.'

Slackly, it seemed to him, and with reluctance, the twin attendants wheeled his plane out in the roof.

"Get away," said Montag.

Sabriel met his gaze, and her eyes were not the uncertain, flickering beacons of adolescence.

He played it, and replayed it, that Sunday, hoping each time that she would relent, that he'd hear warmth in her voice.

This sounded promising, certainly; Alice turned and came back.

"Perhapsss," he suggested teasingly after a moment, "your memorrry isss faulty."

'...thy micturations are to me/ As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.'

The old man was deep in a trance, still communicating with the heart of the Earth and oblivious to the disturbance on the surface. *I don't expect people to get this one, it's not a book that many people have read.

She had a job to do.

"Is this why you sent me?"

020811 In Time

2011-08-02T14:58:00.001-06:00

If you know me and my fascination with 'time', you'll understand my unfathomable enthusiasm about a new movie coming out in October. It's called 'In Time'. Here's a trailer for you:

And here is the movie's official site as well as IMDB's page on the movie.

I think the basic idea of 'time is money', or 'money is time' to be an interesting concept. The way they've seemed to portray it in the movie works with what we have now in terms of movie; the rich live forever when the poor die every day because they can't earn enough time.

290711 Secret Rooms

2011-07-29T23:11:00.002-06:00

When I move out, I want a secret room in my house. D: I don't know what I would use it for; probably an office or den or something, but I want one.

I don't know the origin behind this desire for a secret room. Maybe it's the whole mystery of it, of thinking something is a solid wall or bookshelf only to have it give way and reveal another space, a space that wasn't thought to exist.

Those of you who know the location of my room will understand when I say that my room could become hidden; a simple bookshelf under the stairs would do it. My mom thought it was a neat idea, but wouldn't agree to it. Bummer.

THE DESIRE....

This kinda inspired my current train of thoughts... yes I am Stumbling when I'm supposed to be writing. D: I'm so awful...

280711 Hoodie Ninja

2011-07-28T18:54:00.000-06:00

Soooo.... I'm supposed to be writing, but instead I decided to look on the internet for the answer to a question that came up last week at the theatres. You know that Honda commercial with the ninja? Well, we couldn't decide if the song was saying 'hoodie ninja' or 'horny ninja'. Turns out it was hoodie. And now I'm stuck on this song! So catchy....

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a hoodie ninja

Got my ninja bag AKA a pillow case
Filled with nacho flavored combos, a flashlight, and masking tape

We got hoodies and some goodies, we got tools and also talent
Fisher Splinter stealth and some Barnum and Bailey balance
Katanas and shurikens so lets hurry across the yard
If there's dobermans jump over them it shouldn't be that hard

The objective is reconnaissance the subject is a hottie
Redhead from my homeroom with a bad ass little body
Hella dope telescope from little bros pirate phase
She's about to change for bed we gotta get there right away

I can't make out so I stake out take a doughnut make it glazed
I climb the tree and finally I feast upon her frame
She's rockin cotton panties, Sanrio so it seems
She's strechen and profechen, she's the cutie of my dreams
Lose the T, they're 2 B's. Yes I know her cup size
IMAX in my spy glass while my balls get bug bites. (OUCH!)

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
You're off guard ninja star now you're injured
Tough luck nun chuck break your fingers
Gotta bolt cause I don't wanna linger

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
You're off guard ninja star now you're injured
Tough luck nun chuck break your fingers
Gotta bolt cause I don't wanna linger

Got my ninja getup it's a Fett's Vette sweatshirt
Rockin awesome drawstrings tied so tight that my head hurts
Stolen black slacks that are supposed to be for church
Stuff the cuffs into my Chucks now I'm a ninja thanks to merch

I gotta kaginawa that's a grappling apparatus
Empanadas from my mama her burritos are the baddest
Lets eat 'em in the shed where my father keeps his porn
and I'll explain the mission it's so bitchin' word is born

Gym coach is a Nazi always got me runnin laps
I know he doesn't like me you should hear his frightening laugh
Can't put up with the push-ups and the crunches got me cranky
So we're gonna drop a dookie on his driveway like I'm Banksy

Yo you keep a look out while I drop my Fruit of Looms
And build myself a built to scale model of Mt. Doom
We hear the garage door motors and we motor mad fast
Drop a deuce into my shoes now I'm runnin crap laps

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
I'm a hoodie ninja

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
You're off guard ninja star now you're injured
Tough luck nun chuck break your fingers
Gotta bolt cause I don't wanna linger

I'm a ninja I'm a hoodie ninja
You're off guard ninja star now you're injured
Tough luck nun chuck break your finger
Gotta bolt cause I don't wanna linger

270711 Link List

2011-07-27T15:42:00.001-06:00

<< I've added a link to my list on the side over there. El Callejon is the blog of Kim Verhulst Streeter, my mom's maid of honour. She's recently accepted a HUGE change in her life; moving from the DC area to work with Student's International in the DR. Her blog recounts her adventures on this new branch of life.

I'm looking for more links to add to the side, so if you're interested let me know! They do have to be active blogs though. :3

(Also, Tamara, if you're reading this, your link is in danger of being removed. D: I understand that you probably don't have time to update it right now.)

240711 A Sense of Humour

2011-07-24T12:29:00.001-06:00

I am reminded yet again that God does indeed have a sense of humour.

Today was Pastor Dan's last day as a pastor at our church. As Hessel Kielstra was up front saying a little about Dan before the service. He was talking about a certain time in council where someone had to do a presentation impromptu when their computer crapped out. He joked that it would be funny if Dan's computer did the same.

Dan got up to preach and asked for the projector input to be switched to Computer 1 (which his computer was supposed to be on). It came up with 'no source found'. Everything in the sound booth and up front checked out, but it still wasn't working.

God was listening and decided to join in. :3

230711 Front Yard?

2011-07-23T21:25:00.002-06:00

So, after watching this, I kinda want to consider turning my future front yard into a vegetable garden. But, then it occurred to me that we have an unreasonably short growing season here in Calgary so I think I'll settle with a small orchard in the front.

In the back, however, I do plan on having a vegetable garden in which I can grow carrots, celery, lettuce, tomatoes and corn. And perhaps pumpkins, but I've never had any luck with those.

BECAUSE I DO NOT ENJOY CUTTING GRASS. It might have something to do with a certain summer I spent doing a certain aspect of landscaping from 6AM to 6PM. Just maybe. That and I'm just not attached to short stubby grass. You know the yard in your neighbourhood where it looks like no one lives because the grass has turned into some sort of mountainous grass jungle? Yeah, that'll be my house if I have a lawn that people can see.

Either that, or I'll get a goat to eat the grass. That's legal, isn't it?

THE WINDMAKER: An Apple, A Date and a Starfruit

2011-07-23T00:16:00.001-06:00

(my apologies for the incredible lateness of this chapter; I have found myself with a bit of a Windmaker block...)

“What is the cure? If there is one,” Farren finally asked. The boy looked at him curiously.

“What do you want with the Windmaker?” the boy asked again.

“To help him, if I can,” Farren answered with confidence this time. There was another smile on the boy’s face.

“While the man grew the tree that produced the evil fruit, another tree grew elsewhere; a tree that bore the counterparts to the fruits that were made into the cursed pie. Those three fruit were picked by three separate people and kept far apart from each other.

“If the wrong person were to get a hold of those three fruit, they could destroy any hope of the Windmaker ever returning to his former self.”

Farren was completely silent. Could it be more than just a coincidence that each of the other siblings had given him a fruit to carry to the Windmaker?

“What... what form did these three fruit take?” he asked cautiously. “And would someone collect them all?”

“I do not know; only the people who picked them know what they looked like. As for how to get them, I would assume that there would be some sort of test of character before they would hand them over.”

The boy looked knowingly at Farren.

“You had a bag, didn’t you? Would you like to stay the night?”

Farren was not expecting the invitation of hospitality from the boy. He glanced out the window and noticed that the sun had nearly set. He had spent the entire day inside the manor playing games with a boy who wouldn’t even tell his name.

“I... I would appreciate the hospitality,” Farren answered. “You’re sure that the Windmaker won’t mind a human staying in his house?”

The boy shook his head.

“I don’t think he would mind. He’s rather tired right now anyway; you saw his outburst yesterday, didn’t you?”

“I did; it was terrifying,” Farren shivered. “I’ll go get my bag then.”

Farren slipped downstairs and out of the manor. His bag was still sitting behind the low stone wall where he had left it. He hadn’t really expected anyone to carry it away, but the worry was still there. Especially now that he knew how important those three little fruits could be.

He pulled them out of their pocket inside his bag and stared at them. He was having a hard time believing that something as simple as three pieces of fruit could be the answer to a curse that had spanned hundreds of years already.

And yet despite being on the road for months, the fruit looked like it had just been picked. Farren sighed and tucked the fruit back inside the bag and headed back towards the manor.

If the boy knew anything about the fruit, he didn’t say anything as he led Farren back upstairs to one of the other rooms. In fact, he didn’t say any more words to Farren at all. After pointing to the room that Farren was supposed to stay in, he wobbled back to his room and closed the door. Farren guessed that all the playing had tuckered him out.

Farren’s room was considerably smaller than the boy’s, but it was comfortable. The sheets were crisp and smelled slightly of late summer lavender. The only other piece of furniture in the room was an empty wardrobe.

He dropped his bag inside the wardrobe and pulled out the three fruits. He walked to the window and placed them on the sill, waiting for them to do something, to proclaim that they were indeed the fruit that the boy had been talking about.

They did nothing of the sort. They just sat there, bathing in the moonlight from the almost-full moon. The more he looked at them, the more Farren questioned their existence. What exactly did an apple, a date and a starfruit have in common besides being fruit?

Farren gave up trying to figure out their riddle and climbed into the lightly-scented sheets. He fell asleep quickly. His dreams were disturbing; images flashed passed his consciousness at an alarming rate. They all seemed to pulse of some unforeseen danger ahead.

None of those images were remembered when Farren woke in the morning. He rolled over with an exhausted sigh and glanced at the door. It was open.

The boy stood in the door frame, staring at the window. Farren was confused at his stillness, glancing back and forth between the fruit and the boy. Sweat was beading on the boy’s forehead.

“Where... where did you get those?” he whispered. Farren yawned and answered without thinking.

“From Rom, Tahl and Ekbote,” he said, swinging his legs out of the bed. He would need to dig through his bag to see if he had any clean clothes left.

The boy looked visibly shaken by the mention of the names and Farren suddenly knew that he should have kept that little piece of information to himself. He was unsure about what the boy was going to do next; whether he was going to jump on the fruit or run away. He did neither.

“What... what do you intend to do with them?” the boy stuttered, still standing frozen in the doorway.

“Well, after you told me that story yesterday, I was thinking of giving them to the Windmaker,” Farren answered, running a hand through his bedhead hair. The boy turned and stared at him again. Farren was drawn into his wide, light grey eyes.

“You were going to give them to Belshar?” he asked quietly.

“To free him,” Farren confirmed. “But I don’t know where to find him.”

“I do,” the boy whispered.

He made his first movement since Farren had noticed him standing in the doorway. He lunged at the fruit resting on the window sill. Before Farren could react to the boy’s actions, the boy had taken a bite out of each of the three fruit.

“Hey!” he protested. But something inside him urged him to let the boy be. The boy whipped around and stared at Farren with his grey eyes. They were churning as if a storm was brewing within, waiting to be unleashed.

180711 The Fort

2011-07-18T00:00:00.004-06:00

The warm sea breeze blew through Mandi’s hair as she clung to the salty rope ladder. Her ship, the Beautiful Mermaid, was splashing through the great blue ocean. Shouts came from the deck below, but she ignored them. Her eyes were instead drawn to the large black flag flying in the wind above her. The grinning face of a skull and crossbones winked back at her.

“Ship off the port-bow!” the cry came from overhead. She slid down the ropes to the deck and sprinted to the bow. Mandi pulled a collapsed spyglass from a pocket on her coat and extended it. Placing it to her eye, she searched for her next target.

It was exactly where the caller had said it would be. The proud ship’s white sails billowed in the same breeze that carried them. The red, white and blue flag marked it as a British ship and therefore ripe for the taking.

“We’ve got ourselves a couple of tea lovers!” she sang out to her crew. They all laughed with piratey zest.

“Orders, captain Mandi?” her first mate asked.

“Pull up aside her and ready the cannons!” she yelled. Another cheer went up. She was making her way towards the helm when a different cry caught her attention.

“Mandi! Mandi!” it yelled from elsewhere. “We need you help!”

Mandi turned around and was suddenly confronted with the fiery breath of an angry dragon!

High above her was a great stone tower with a small balcony at the top. On that balcony was Princess Lisa, dressed in the prettiest pink gown in all of the kingdoms. She was holding her pink handkerchief over the edge and waving it between two fingers as she cried for help.

“Mandi! Duck!” a knight yelled. They crashed to the ground as he jumped into her to save her. Their landing was quite soft.

The knight lifted his visor and helped Mandi, now dressed in similar armor, to her feet. It was Nate to the rescue!

“We have to slay the dragon and save the princess from the tower before the witch comes back from the east!” he said, pointing to a long, steep road in the distance.

“When we get her out, are you going to kiss her too?” Mandi teased.

“Ew, Mandi, that’s gross!”

“Help me, oh help me!” Princess Lisa called again dramatically, pretending to faint over the railing of the balcony. Nate gripped his sword in his hands and charged at the dragon again. It swiped the sword out of his hands and out of his reach.

Nate grabbed something from his belt and pointed it at the dragon.

“Bang bang!” he shouted. The dragon collapsed to the ground in a great cloud of dust. When the air cleared again, they were nearly run over by a stage coach!

“Watch where yer standing!” the driver shouted back at them as he continued off into the distance. Following the stage coach came a trotting horse with a rider on top.

“Where might you be from strangers?” the rider asked. Mandi and Nate had no answer. The person dismounted and walked up to them.

“My name is Sheriff Lisa and I run this here town. Now I won’t have anyone gettin’ in the way of my business, y’here? Let’s get you down to the saloon...”

“Now just wait one minute,” Mandi said. “I’m Crazy Mandi and I’m challenging you to a showdown! High noon, right here in the street.”

Mandi and Lisa’s eyes met and they knew it was on. Sheriff Lisa took Nate to the saloon for a refreshing drink and Mandi waited outside for the minutes to tick by until high noon. Then it would begin.

The clock at the far end of the street showed twelve noon and the street suddenly became very empty. A few tumbleweeds chased each other down the street as Crazy Mandi and Sheriff Lisa squared off. Mandi tipped her cowboy hat farther down her face to make herself look more menacing. Lisa tapped one of her pistols.

At once, both of them took out their guns and aimed at each other.

Nate came flying out of the saloon before any shots were fired.

“You guys have to come see this, it’s amazing!” he shouted before running back inside. The two girls dropped their pistols and ran inside. Nate was crouched in front of a circular window staring out into the watery world outside.

“Look at all these bright fish! And I saw a shark just before I came to get you!”

“We must have found a coral reef,” Mandi exclaimed, pulling out a clipboard. “Can you describe what the shark looked like?”

“Well, it was very big and grey... look! There it is again!” He pointed over the reef. “There, behind that rock!”

Mandi pushed Nate out of the way to see where he was pointing. A Great White Shark swam out from behind the rock and was moving straight towards them!

“We’re safe, aren’t we Mandi?” Nate asked quietly.

“Quite safe Explorer Nate. This submarine is built to withstand any attack by a marine animal.” Mandi nodded and returned to her clipboard.

“Oh, how beautiful!” Lisa exclaimed from a window on the other side of the submarine. Both Mandi and Nate rushed over to see what she was talking about. All three of them crowded around the small window and gazed into the watery scene outside. Lisa gasped and pointed again.

“Look! It’s a mermaid!”

Both Mandi and Lisa pushed themselves closer to the window. Nate scoffed and moved away.

“What’s so awesome about a mermaid?” he asked. But his question wasn’t heard.

“Look at her beautiful red hair!” Lisa exclaimed.

“And her bright blue tail!” Mandi added. Both girls continued to ooh and aah at the mermaid swimming around just outside the window. But soon she swam away, leaving both girls watching. Just then something streaked past the window.

“Was that a shooting star?” Lisa asked.

“It sure was!” Nate replied. “Here, you’re going to need your space suits!” He passed both girls their space helmets.

“Houston, this is Explorer Five. We have encountered a shooting star, over,” Nate said into the radio. There was a gush of static before a reply came through.

“We read you Explorer Five. Be careful that you don’t get hit by a shooting star, over.”

“Look at all the stars out there,” Mandi whispered, looking out the window. “They’re so bright!”

“And they twinkle! I wonder which one of them came up with the song ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’,” Lisa asked. Mandi looked at her before knocking her on her helmet.

“The song was made by a human, Lisa,” she said. “Stars can’t sing.”

“Oh yes they can!”

“No they can’t!”

“Prove it!”

“You prove it!”

“Girls! Stop fighting!”

The new voice silenced Mandi and Lisa.

“Did you hear that?” Mandi whispered. “Where did it come from?”

“Maybe it was aliens,” Nate whispered back. All three of them crept to the window that the voice had come from. There was nothing there but stars and planets.

“Mandi, Lisa, Nate, lunch is ready! Come upstairs before I eat all the cookies!”

Mandi stood up suddenly and found her head stuck in a sheet. Lisa giggled and pushed a discarded pillow out of the way as she crawled for the narrow little exit between the couch cushion and the table. Nate had already escaped between two of the blankets that had been draped over a number of chairs. Mandi sat down again and crawled her way over an eye patch, a foam sword and one of the water guns that they had been playing with.

Outside, Lisa was quickly picking up the pictures of colourful fish that she had drawn early that day.

“Don’t step on the stars Mandi! They might not like that!” she exclaimed. Nate was playing with the bucket that had once been a space helmet.

“Last one upstairs is a rotten egg!” Mandi shouted. Fish and stars and a bucket went flying as all three of them raced for the stairs, away from their fort of couch cushions and furniture.