photo shoot

Needless to say, I received input on my request for more models! A couple sisters came to me and asked if I could take pictures of them, and here's the result.

This is my favorite one of Angie, the leaves look pretty cool all around her feet.

Now granted, I'm still practicing, so these pictures aren't as good as they could be, but that's no fault of those in the pictures. And if anyone wants their picture taken, I'd love more practice!

I really like this one of Alyssa, the lighting seems just right.

I like this one as well, the stairwells do a lovely job of framing both of them.

We got the sun just right in this one!

And I'm a big fan of this half shot.

(801) 549-8512 -- Text me if you want your picture taken!

There are strange things done, in the midnight sun...

Fate often deals a cruel hand, and Lady Luck always folds first. But most always the rule remains, that the house always wins. At work today, I was talking to my alzheimer's buddy, (we'll just start calling him Bud) and he was talking back...and forgot what he was saying, in mid sentence. Alzheimer's is a terrible, yet curious disease, for after a while he heard the name "Mcgee" on the television--and this is what he said--

The Cremation of Sam McGee

by Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.



Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.




And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

--As you can see, in a normal book this poem is several pages long, and he recited it, word for word, without blinking. I searched his bookcase while he was reciting it the second time, and found a huge book of poems by Robert Service. I opened it, and started reading lines and titles from some of the poems in there, and he recited over half of them along with me. It was astonishing. As I walked into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water, I asked him "When did you memorize all these poems?"
He hollered back at me, "Oh when I was twelve or so."
I walked back into the room with his water and said "Wow! That's incredible!"
He looked at me, squinted, and said "What's your name again?"
Like I said before, Alzheimer's is a cruel, yet curious disease.

Prettier than a penny in 1929

The other day at work I was chillin' with my Alzheimer's buddy at his house. I work with a home-health agency, so I work out of people's homes. It's great, and while I was at my buddy's house he decided to flip on the tv. So we sat, and we watched, for quite a while. We were halfway through our second episode of Grey's Anatomy (I flip through the channels until he sees an actor that he thinks he used to be best friends with, this time it was that blonde girl from Grey's Anatomy) when he shot out of his chair, grabbed his walker, and bolted right towards me. Now, I use the term "bolted" loosely, but when you work with old people all the time, the slowest of things seem to really speed up. I jumped up with a "what's up?" and walked toward him, to help him to his destination. I mean, this happens a lot with older people, especially with alzheimer's/dementia. They'll do really random things for really random reasons.
As I approached him, I put my hands on the front of his walker to keep it from sliding, and my elderly friend growled at me. Growled. At me. I wasn't sure how to feel, I mean, just moments ago we had shared tender comments about his grandchildren,

(His first grandDaughter, Katherine Heigl)

And now we had reverted to monosyllabic expressions of anger and hatred. After asking him what was wrong, he started listing every curse word he could think of, until I let go of the walker. As soon as I let go however, he ceased, and continued to shuffle forward. Not learning my lesson the first time, I gently grabbed ahold of the walker again. Rather than cuss at me again, he just let go of the walker, and turned around to try and make a run for it.



(His second grandDaughter, Sandra Oh)

I tossed the walker aside and hurried up behind him, placing my hand on his arm to help him stabilize, when he hollered and fell onto the couch we were walking past. Now, by this time, I was rather frazzled, what with him trying to run away and shouting and all that. But as he sat on the couch and looked up at me, he raised an eyebrow and said, "what have you got yourself all worked up about? Mrs. given you trouble?"

"No...You just startled me, that's all."

He looked offended. "Well I just wanted to sit by yah," He huffed, and resumed watching Grey's Anatomy, while I sat next to him, still processing the turn of events. A minute or two went by and we both seemed to calm down...until a kissing scene with one of his grandkids popped up.
"What are you doing boy, lookin at my granddaughter like that? Change the Channel!"
"Sorry sir."
Click
" Woah!! Change it back, would you part an old man from his prosperity?"
"Sorry Sir."
He took of his glasses and polished them, looking back at Katherine Heigl.
"Well isn't she just prettier than a penny in 1929? Wouldn't mind callin' on her on a warm evening."

"But Sir, isn't that your GrandDaughter?"
"Nah, we're just good friends, met her at school."

You have to love Wednesdays :)

Practice makes Perfect

So, I like taking pictures. A lot. And I've found that the more pictures I take, the better looking the pictures seem to get. Crazy, huh? So I was wondering what would happen if I really tried hard to be good at this photography stuff, and that's where I'm at now. Here are some of the potraits I've done before.


This is Chandler, my little brother. He wants to be a marine when he grows up, he just can't wait. We were lucky enough to find an old army jeep in our neighbor's backyard, and as you can see he brought his helmet and dog tags.




This is Noah, my littler brother, and boy let me tell you, this kid is a card shark. Never before have I seen such a young kid take an enormous liking to card games, especially poker. It's gets annoying sometimes, how good he is at it too.



This one is of Kyra and I. I saw another couple do this in a picture somewhere on the internet, and thought it was a great, and very unique look. It was also very fun, seeing as it took a couple shots to get it right. ;)



This is one of Kyra, one that I like. I'm a big fan of how the fence is used to put a frame around her, it's nice. And I have quite a lot of pictures of this girl, but there's a problem. I've run out of people to take pictures of.



I never caught this man's name, but I do know that he works on the Frontrunner train down towards the Salt Lake City end. His mustache is beautiful, to say the least. You don't see many of those nowadays, so I couldn't resist taking a picture. But my problem still stands. I need models if I'm resorting to this kind stranger on the train. You people out there, I know you want your picture taken.



So hit me up on Facebook, or text me at 801-549-8512 and let me know if you want your picture taken!

object of misplacement, scaredy cat?

You know, it's a funny feeling, when you know you've forgotten something but you just can't put your finger on what exactly it is. As a BYU parole officer I can't afford to forget. Number one rule. You forget, you die. So see if you can help me out with this little problem, before I get into some trouble and need my own parole officer.

This is where I am right now, in BellMoon cafe, where I've lost whatever it is I've lost, see anything out of place? Ignore the college flair and neo-retro format of the cabinets. Let's check around...

This is half of the family room and the hall. It's sideways because that's the angle of my neck as I crook it to see half of the family room and the hall. (If I must see it like this, so must you) Still looks like it's not missing anything, except for any decoration or personality. Put out a missing persons report on the sad soul who died of boredom when they saw this wall. Let's keep it movin...

This intertwined explosion of color represents JEM, because that's about what they looked like from my seat. All mixed and blurred and...yeah...They were on the couch, in the living room. That's all I have to say about that.

Find the missing piece? No? Lemme give you a hint. It's a girl. and She's hot. and she's not here.. She's taken off with all of my investments...

If you see this foxy lady, send her on over. There is no reward, 'cause I'm broke. Keep on looking though, she's out there somewhere...

BYU....Bell's and emerY's Universe...

As you well know, Kyra Marie and Emery Johanneson (sorry Em, don't know your middle name, or if you have one...) Have offed to college, and the big and bad BYU. Why choose such a university, you ask? Personally I believe it was to help these two mischevious girls straighten
themselves out, but let's see how that's going... ;)


To keep themselves out of trouble, Kyra and Emery joined the colorguard, to have fun participating in wholesome dancing for the whole family to enjoy.




Here the girls are, playing a cute little game they learned at BYU called "Flaunting their stuff," where they whisper cute little secrets to each other, and then strike entrancing poses.


This is Jem. (The combination of Jake and Emery). Jake was Emery's parole officer before she checked in at BYU, after which a beautiful friendship blossomed. Ages 18, Kyra and Emery live happily together at Wyview housing, with a great roommate by the name of Kourtnee. (I hope I spelled that right, sorry Kourtnee if I didn't!) There will be plenty more pictures and stories in the future, not to worry...

Anchors, Bridges and Forest Fires

Life hurts.
This unbending social addendum we are all subject to after high school life takes its heavy toll, and every so slowly. Like an monstrous slime on your skin, this slow process of aging into indifference begins on your exterior, slowly sinking in. People you knew, people who once wouldn't think twice about sharing a milkshake or swapping movies with, suddenly look upon you and...see....nothing. Are you hideously disfigured? Can you no longer be recognized? I myself have fallen victim to this horrendous mishap, and have tried every rational deduction.
"They have obviously made a mistake, they mistook me for someone else."
This isn't the case my friends, the sad fact is that it's quite the opposite. In all actuality, for most people it's a pre-emptive strike on an awkward situation. They mistook you for you, and rather than waste precious time constructing a basic and infantile and uninterested cordiality, they just stare straight through you, praying that you do not notice that they have just discarded you, tossed you out with the stray gaggle of passing thoughts that stay no longer than an instant in the thinking brain. And people think this is okay, that this is normal.
It is incredible how many bridges between personalities are in only need of minor repair before they become fully functional. But not many people ever discover this, because as soon as you graduate high school they send you sailing down your own bridged river, handing you a torch and saying "congratulations, good luck at college."
And you hold that torch high,that torch of individuality, of determination, of free agency, you show it off to all those who can see--sailing, and burning those bridges you pass underneath. Sailing, and burning, and sailing, and burning; until you reach college, the vast ocean of tertiary learning. Only then, as you begin to float out to sea, with no other land in sight, do you look back and hesitate, questioning yourself. But what do you see? Burnt wood and charcoal, following the drift of your boat...
Yet indifference gives little a little consolation in reward for your bold move. When navigation has quit you, and you can no longer scratch your head in wonder for fear of losing your hair, fate tosses you an anchor.
Most anchors are completely unforseen people from a life past, almost as if the fates fancy this juvenile humor. Perhaps these anchors are an old friend from high school that wasn't necessarily considered a friend, but lucky you, because this old pal is now the only pal you've got at Big old College. And as you step back and look at the situation, you speak to yourself, stating in amused confusion "I would never have been best buds with this person, but I can't remember why I wasn't..."
Their are select anchors that few pack onto their boats, and they keep them close and cared for at all times, for they are driven by the whip of infatuation to do so. These anchors are precious, golden anchors, and after a time, it is not infatuation that forces the sailor to maintain this type of anchor, rather his own adoring love for the machinery. Sadly as it may seem, these special "anchors," lovers past and present, who have enjoyed in the experience of stumbling through love's first forest of trial and joy together are often the weakest of anchors, and can snap as easily as a rude curse slips off the tongue. Gold is a soft metal.
For love is tender, and so very much like a forest. And for those of you who truly have loved and tried running through an actual forest when holding their lover's hand can agree. There are many trials, almost every tree's sole purpose is separating you from your loved one. As toddlers in love, most high schoolers do nothing, save weave between trees, gripping hands tight, spouting strategems for reuniting in case a particularly rough branch severs their grasp.
This is what the torch is for.
Once you've crossed this new ocean and left you're burnt bridges behind and reached a new land, you set to action. As your anchors lowers into the water for you, securing your stay, you walk up to the new and wooded and, and with a--great heave--hurl your torch into its midst. For this is what you will choose eventually, this is what you'll set your mind at, you'll be determined to do this. Because once you burn down every crooked tree in your path, there will be nothing there to part your hand from her's.
Love heals.

Pictures of the week

I got a new camera just recently, as a graduation present--and I must say, it is amazing. As every young teen acts when receiving a gift, I immediately put it to use and shot some pictures...this first one was taken where I stood when I first pulled out my camera.









I love this one, a little photoshop magic....and suddenly walking into an old house became a lot more interesting.





I started out on this road, which was super hard to find in the middle of suburban K-town, but it was a great one to begin with.

I like this one especially. Macro Rocks!






Apparantly this one was humerous. But I wasn't too thrilled about it





Then I picked up this pretty lady. What a beautiful girl! This picture is amazing. She rocks all my socks, and she's great with a camera as well. Would you look at that dazzling smile?












Two is much, much better than one. :)

Rainy Sundays

Sundays are the best, rainy Sundays are even better. Here in Kaysville, they only come once in a blue moon; so we make the best of them.
Usually we start off with a good tramp-jumping. Hayden and I are usually wearing bath robes and we're all most definitely in our pajamas, it's just more fun that way.

Down in the sport court with all the workout equipment and carpeted walls, crazy ideas bounce off each other as much as the kids on the trampoline.

Thus, spiderman is born.
You ever try to touch your toes...while defying gravity?






After the trampoline we take a couple board games to cool down, starting with the classic--Apples to Apples. After we've laughed ourselves to death over the green and red cards, we usually try a go at monopoly, but this night we shot for Scrabble.


It's a pretty rough game.



After the board games, we usually crash in someone's room, throw in a disney movie, and doze off till morning. And that's why I love Rainy Sundays.

The Road Less Traveled

To take the Road less traveled,
Is to take a road unknown,
To shed your fear,
And wander here,
Is courage surely shown,

You take the road less traveled,
To find the beauty rare,
There's a reason for your loneliness,
Cause the road you walk is bare.

Someone must have walked here,
Quite a while ago,
They must have warned the others,
About what you now know.
--------------------------------

The pavement-cracked,
The bushes-burned,
Curiousity and the Cat,
Your lesson learned.

You kick a rock,
Slip on some leaves,
Come crashing down,
Upon your knees,

--------------------

Sick of the toil your anger boils,
Still on your knees you turn to see,
All that you left at that terrible cleft,
Where the road tore asunder and left you to wonder,
"Where would that road less traveled lead me?"

In the Dusk of the day,
On your knees you stay,
As your heart says "Forward!"
And your mind says "Nay!"
As the two collide,
A spark is supplied,
Deep in your core,
where it becomes more,

Soon you're aflame,
You're eyes burning bright,
In spite of what came,
You travel through the night.

You took the road less traveled,
And ended....somewhere less,
But the journey is what took you,
and gave you happiness,

As you tell your story,
Of your travels past,
Risk gained your reward,
And pain became your cast,
---------------------------------------------
For those still standing there,
looking for the way,
Think of the road less traveled,
And the adventure bring it may,
--------------------------------------
Yet don't be confused,
With Risk you risk to lose,
Yet safety gives you gain,
To nothing but the same.

My Obituary

This year at leadership retreat us band kids participated in a little goal making activity, in which we wrote our own obituary. It was a strange idea at first, but if you think about it, it really helps you understand what you want out of life. So without further ado, here's mine.

Tanner Holm, age 75, was assassinated yesterday, on April the 9th, in his favorite restaurant, while conversing with his friends and colleagues. His assassination was based on prejuidices concerning his radical philosophical views, his landmark advances in international peace, and his hair color.
Mr. Holm began one of his many careers in his college years, as he became at an early age the best surgeon in the west coast, saving many lives and improving countless surgical techniques. However, his greatest medical feat was marked in history as the day he reversed paralysis, giving hope to millions with his new surgery. Tanner retired from the medical field at the age of 54, to take a shot at his real passion as a writer.
Having written many books describing his faith and its perfect reconciliation with science and reason, and after dominating the best seller list for over 6 years with his philisophical views, Tanner took a risky dive into politics, but not necessarily in the way you would expect. Without holding any office of any sort, Tanner became one of the most influential men in the world, by giving council to national leaders from several different countries discerning peace and foreign policy, all the while calling it his "good turn daily" because his council came completely free of charge. This great display of charity led to his winning the Nobel prize, on the account of his great peacemaking.
He was shot in the chest, after seeing his killer approach with the weapon. However, as his colleagues report, "there wasn't an ounce of fear in that man, and he died with a smile on his face." His wife had only one thing to say, "He did it, he made into the history books, that's all he wanted." His closest friend also mentioned that "his last words to us were, good luck." And with that, he was gone.
He is surpassed by his wife and children, and all of those who benefited from his monumental and historical feats. His funeral is to be held on April 16th, and is to be an informal gathering, based upon his request.

And that's how I go. You should try it, it's quite the paradigm shift.

Fortress

You know what it means, it's been used in every fairytale and every story of old at one time or another. It's the fabeled Fortress, a word which immediately sends an image to your mind, an image of unshaken solitude, which stands tall and resolute against the most devastating of attacks. Now as times passes, this symbol of unrelenting resistance has slowly changed, changed from once defining that castle of realistic protection and pride to another kind of fortress. The only fortresses to be found today are the ones surrounding you and I, our own fortresses of values, which will always be on the defense.
It's shocking, it truly is, to see person after person fall under the pressure of moral attack, no longer able to stand for what they believe in. They're crumbling, like the walls of the Edinburgh itself, some faster than others, but the fact still remains so. One after another they fumble over themselves, questioning the very beliefs that have taken root in their earliest childhood memories. How could this happen? How could a fortress of upstanding values be crushed, devasted by mere words from another? It is a sad day when the question on everyone's mind is not "if" but "when." When will you fall to the world? When will you forsake everything you've known to know nothing? You better not answer that question.
There is still hope. Still strong, in the dark mists of the world there are few, few people who stand strong for themselves, and no other. They know why they choose to face adversity, They know what they stand for. Their example blazes through the fog, like a lighthouse at work, leading those woebegone through the dangerous seas. They are your friends of the past, the hope of the present, and the leaders of the future.
You know who they are, and it's about time you joined them.
Light up the darkness.

Junior Essay Contest

This is the essay I turned in for the Junior class essay contest, and hopefully it wins something. I only took about five minutes on it, and I'm really too lazy to change anything, so here it is.


This day in our age is a day of cold uncertainty. A harsh barrier of indifference and contemporary conflict separate us from each other in a world where a friendly hello from a stranger and other such courtesies are seen as mythical, rather than practical. As I look around at our community, our society, even our world, this plague of doubt and distrust has reached the four corners of the earth, casting everyone into its darkening shadow. How can one combat such an opponent as apathy and doubt? The answer may be simpler than you think. I can make a difference, I can contribute to the world close around me as well as the world encompassing us all by propagating education, extending a friendly hand to those who are struggling to stand, and by blazing my own path in this world, maintaining a fortress of upstanding values and using this example as a guiding light for those lost in the tide of today’s world.
Service, in all of its forms, sustains phenomenal results. However, the highest form of service and the greatest gift one can give is that of education. By tutoring, or supporting those who teach, I can change the very lives of those whom I have assisted. Education is the key to opportunity and by propelling forth the work of education we are advancing onto an age of enlightenment wherein ignorance is nonexistent, and along with it prejudice, for those two are one and the same.
The greatest counter against apathy is without a doubt appreciation. Extending a hand to those who need it is not enough, one must have compassion. Compassion and appreciation for those people around you is more than enough to change the world surrounding us. If I were to show unbounded love and tolerance for those I interact with on a daily basis, the positive results of these actions would be astronomical. It is possible to be friends with everybody, but sadly to find such a person is an extremely difficult thing to discover nowadays as this type of person is slowly fading into legend. Kindness works in that of a ripple effect, one kind deed will trigger another, until ripples form into waves, and we’ve covered the entire earth with this newfound harmony. It only takes one person to start such a wave.
When we look for role models and personal heroes today we all picture someone of great significance, some great person. All great people have led outstanding examples, and through this have affected thousands upon thousands of lives. Such great people are Mahatma Gandhi, who dedicated his life to the pursuit of justice through peaceful terms, and Jesus Christ of Nazareth, who gave hope and comfort to the poor and troubled of mind. Both of these men led impeccable lives, maintaining a fortress of upstanding values and standards that remain unshaken to this day, preserved in history books and in the hearts of their admirers. This is my goal, to lead an example that will remain unshaken in history, to stand as a lighthouse of truth, shining a beacon of light into the foggy mists of confusion and distrust, giving those who need a hero someone to lean on. Doing this will take astronomical effort, but I believe that the results it will bear are more than worth it.
Although we live in troubled times, there is always hope for a better future. Through these actions mentioned previously I intend to strengthen that hope, to feed it. One day this world will become a utopia of harmonious living and acceptance, and I surely do hope I have something to do with it. Through support of education, kind deeds, and outstanding examples, I believe we can change the world.

Drum Major Application Essay

This is the essay I turned in with my drum major application. I thought it was pretty good myself, so go ahead. Indulge.


For years and years, the tradition of excellence has been carried in the arms of our band’s drum majors. As our school rises to that of epitomizing glory, only the best should be placed at the forefront of our band. Those who hold the standards of greatness and compassion, and have the makings of a great leader, should be the ones marching at the head of the Davis High Marching Band. Those qualities previously mentioned, coincidentally, parallel my own traits in many ways. Strong leadership skills, compassion, understanding and experience are just a few of the reasons I could make a great drum major.
Ever since childhood, the mantel of leadership has been placed upon my shoulders. Throughout my life my family and friends, have rallied behind me looking for direction. Even today, family members both younger and older than myself have looked to me for guidance and support. With outstanding determination and a fortress of upstanding values, I have successfully led myself and those around me to a better place in life. These personality traits are extremely difficult to find in a sea of followers that engulf us today.
I also have the great gift of compassion and understanding, which has been one of the most powerful tools of friendship and communication I have ever had the opportunity to use. I have never met a person that I have not been able to relate to and find common ground with. With this gift of tolerance and the ability to put forth a basic feeling of warmth all around, I feel that this is a great quality of a drum major.
Even in my religious experience I have been placed at a leadership position, as deacon’s president, and teacher’s president, and as a District leader at the soon to come Aaronic Priesthood Training Camp. I also have experience in marching band, as last year I aided the trumpet section with my leadership skills as a Squadron leader. My experience as a leader has grown exponentionally throughout my life, as I use my past positions to learn how to greater benefit those I influence now and later in my career.

What is wrong, and what separates us from radical Islam?

It was a sad day that morning, when two jumbo jets veered off course and slammed into the sides of the Twin towers and the Pentagon. Thousands of lives were destroyed that day, and millions of lives affected. Who could have orchestrated such a disgusting display of perverted zeal? None other than Osama Bin Laden, the Islamic radical from the east, is to blame for this horrific deed. In the entire composition of this generation, the worse possible thing that one person could do was done by bin Laden, and his actions of hate and cowardice stained the history books with the blood he spilled that day.
Why were his actions wrong? Technically, it’s a matter of majority to decide what is wrong and what is right, and in this situation, a majority of the world agrees with America that what bin Laden did that day was indeed wrong, compared to the small group of Islamic radicals who praise bin Laden for his “achievements.” His actions are wrong because he is pursuing his beliefs to a limit where the safety of those he has targeted have come at risk, where is encroaching our rights, and that is where we draw the line. Attacking a nation solely for the purpose of destroying as many people as you can in that nation is universally viewed as horrifically wrong. Another term for prejudice based crimes, or hate crimes, increases the precision of the accusations against bin Laden.
Now for infiltrating a country illegally and abusing the privileges found in this country to fly its own jets into the trophy buildings of the western hemisphere is truly wrong. The Twin Towers were a symbol of patriotism, pride and success, which is why they were the main target of Osama bin Laden, whose sole purpose was to tear down such a successful nation, by any means possible. Terrorism is not only wrong; it is the lowest form of cowardly destruction ever to have disgraced this planet.
While fighting this war on terror, our nation has participated at what you could call a “proper” level of war-like manner. Needless to say, we’ve followed the rules defining a just war and how to fight one, in stark contrast to the stratagems produced by bin Laden and his Al Quaiada. Never have we stooped so low as to use suicide bombers, or religious zealots to infiltrate the opponent’s nation in an effort to turn it inside out. No, we came into this war too late for that, for Iraq was already tearing itself apart, as can be seen by the gross amount of inhumane actions against the peoples of Iraq constructed by the Iraqi regime, which only further justifies the intervention of America and the war on terror. Last time I checked, we were flying our own planes towards the small hideouts of Islamic radicals, not hijacking the Iraqi’s planes. No, we are right in our actions, defending democracy and fighting for its stability in the middle east, there can be no wrong when fighting for an ideal such as that, no matter how long the war or how incompetent the president directing it is.
All in all, to even suggest that our military, and our nation along with it, has adopted a way of terroristic fighting style to accompany our terroristic views on war is to openly expose your blind ignorance to the world. Never has anything been further from the truth as we see our boys from home being constantly attacked by suicide bombers and religious zealots, only to retaliate in the appropriate, humane, matter. At least as Americans we can say that we have fought a “fair war” in Iraq, even if many didn’t even want to fight it in the first place.

Utilitarianism Vs. The Golden Rule

“The question is, does Utilitarianism and the Golden rule have the same outcome. Why or why not.”

As little children, we were all taught vehemently the golden rule and the possibilities of positive effects on society. Once childish rhetoric, it has been only until recently that our eyes have been opened to the true and vast possibilities of what the golden rule could actually do for our society, as a community, a state, or even a nation. On the other hand, as grown adults and being introduced to other philosophical outcomes, such as utilitarianism, we see an ever growing divide in opinions as we measure out what is practical and what is merely wishful thinking.

Utilitarianism, in a nutshell, would be the greatest good for the greatest amount of people. A great example of this would be the United States government, a type of democracy based off of utilitarian values. However, this still leaves room for minorities, more importantly disgruntled minorities, for what may seem to be the greatest amount of good for the greatest amount of people will almost assuredly place the remaining minorities at a disadvantage. Although this country has made astronomical advances in equality as a nation, there will always be those disadvantaged by the governmental system; it is inherent in utilitarianistic beliefs, as well as democracy. For such a thing as a perfect democracy cannot exist, there will never be a time where everyone is satisfied. Winston Churchill once said, “If it was perfect, it wouldn’t be called a democracy.” Even though harsh it may seem, utilitarianistic views is the most practical of two choices previously mentioned, as the Golden rule is merely an idealistic wish for those helpless hopefuls.

The golden rule states “do unto others as you would have done unto yourself,” would a wonderful way to live life, but is frankly impossible. If it were possible, the world would have already achieved it by now, but there is one thing standing in the way. Us. Such philosophers as Thomas Hobbes and many others have agreed on the idea that man is born evil, constantly striving to fulfill his own needs and willing to disregard others whilst striving for personal gain. While taking this into consideration, and factoring this world’s historical record for destruction as well as the modern day criminal rates, plainly you can see that there is no chance for the Golden rule. To impose this as the only law would be to ask for someone to take advantage of your blind trust, and, dare I say, stupidity, for that is what happens so often these days, trust is so often mistaken for stupidity it is quite a shame. The only way for the golden rule to be used without total destruction ensuing would be to follow the ideals of those such as St. Thomas Aquinas, or John Locke, who both to a degree agree that man is born inherently good, but is shaped by the community he is raised in, which could result in both a good or horrible outcome. A good example of this would be the propagation of poverty, seeing as those who are born into poverty stricken homes with decimated family relations often further this cycle once they come off age, reciprocating only more poverty. Seeing as this is the case and a major part of our reality today, the only way the golden rule could be effective and result in a positive outcome in anyway we would have to take drastic measures and “jumpstart” our society, totally starting anew. This, of course, will not happen anytime soon.

Both completely different things, such as utilitarianism and the beliefs of the golden rule could not possibly sustain the same outcome. The fact of the matter is, utilitarianism is the most practical, and most successful, theory of governmental discipline wherein the standards of the golden rule are so impractical that it results in a form of idealistic rather than practical viewpoint and would have such devastating effect on today’s society that it will be forever the wishful thinking of childish hopefuls, and nothing else.

Why Teens Shouldn't Vote

Wars, disease, political chaos, moral ambiguity and overall confusion; these are just some of the key phrases used to describe this generation. However, after reading an article heralding teens and demanding the ability for teens to vote, I was compelled to speak out against what could be a disastrous misconception.
There are a couple reasons teens aren’t allowed to vote until they are old enough to have been given the opportunity to graduate from High School. Firstly because they, we, just don’t know enough to make a major decision. We don’t have the knowledge, the experience as a whole to change the world for better just yet, and frankly, many of us don’t gain that knowledge or experience until quite a while down the road. That’s why we go to high school, to educate ourselves so we can make knowledgeable, decisive choices that will turn out well for everyone affected. Just picture this, you have a young child anxiously standing in front of you, his eyes shifting from the gum drop machine to the quarter in your hand. You give him the option of either using the quarter to buy a gumball, or he can invest it in a savings account to use later in life when he really needs it. Without a doubt, the young child would instantly snatch that quarter out of your hand and mere seconds later be chewing that gum, and why, do you ask? Because he doesn’t know any better! He doesn’t have the foresight to see the impact of his decision, nor does he have the long-term endurance to choose what is best for him. He just doesn’t get it. But with a little education, say a high school diploma’s worth, could change all of that. In fact, it could change the world.
Another reason that teen voting is just plain unconstitutional is that we have not made an impact or definitively contributed to society. We have done nothing but take, take from our parents, take from our schools, take from our government. It is not until the age of eighteen that we become true citizens of our country, because that is the time when people begin to reciprocate the investment made in them as children and teenagers and contribute to our society, propelling us ever forward. That is the time when we become a member of society, so that is the time when our voice is granted unto us. The laws we abide by are made for adults, by adults. And face it, one of these days we’ll all be adults. Enjoy teenage-hood while it lasts.

Capital Punishment? A Capital Idea!

I strongly agree with Capital punishment, in fact, it’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. Those who commit inexplicable crimes or irreparable damage, such as mass murders, should ultimately be put to death as a result of their heinous crimes. Why kill them? Because, my friends, they deserve it. If they are to abuse the right to live, they should lose the right to live. Once they have encroached on another’s rights and take the lives of innocent people, these criminals should be tried in court, and then sentenced to death. A perfect example of the effectiveness of Capital punishment would be that of Saudi Arabia and other Asian countries where Capital Punishment is used as a deterrent for crime, and guess what? It works. Here’s an example—if you were to cut a hand off of every thief, I assure you the rate of theft in that given area would drop dramatically. Now, I’m not saying we should do that here, that’s just an example of how punishment can deter crime. And, of course, many of you will read this and shake your fists at me stating statistics and blasphemous garbage about the “Brutalization effect.” Sadly I have never heard such a disappointing theory in my lifetime, besides that of the Big Bang. The “Brutalization effect” perverts statistics to correlate the rate of Capital punishment use to the crime rate of the American state capital punishment is being used. According to this effect, the more we put people to death, the more people want to go and commit crime. The first time I heard this I laughed at what I thought was a well planned joke. To make such a correlation is to openly display your desperation for a good argument and your gluttony for humiliation.
I’d like to allude to a historical philosopher if I may. He’s not that influential I guess, I mean, his ideas are only the basis of the very foundation of our constitution. John Locke, the most influential mind to reach America since colonial times once stated that we give the control the amount of power given to our government, and if they should abuse it, we have the right to overthrow that government and start anew. This idea alone leaves many of those fighting against capital punishment without words, as it very well should be.
Of course, there are some parameters that need to be set in order for capital punishment to be the best option. First of all, we need to readjust our judicial system, it’s blown so far out of proportion through appeals and such that nothing through that system is efficient. If we were to revamp the judicial system and refit it for optimal efficiency, then justice could be dealt much faster, and cheaper as well. Along with this, as long as we use Capital Punishment sparingly, we should feel the betterment of society quickly as those who are unchangeable in their disastrous ways are removed from society altogether, creating a safer environment in which justice and freedom can flourish.

Why Board Games are Better Than Video Games

The room is dark and lifeless, save for the single child lethargically clicking buttons while his eyes struggle to focus on the dim light from his t.v. Apart from the occasional blink, this child remains practically motionless as he viciously tears apart fictitious characters in a bloody battle of a video game, completely decensitized from all violence. Sounds appealing, doesn't it? Isn't that a scenario we would all like to see a loved one of our own participate in? While on the other hand we have this child placed in another scenario, where he anxiously rolls the dice on a board game, eager to see the turnout as he enjoys some laughs with his friends and family. The answer is self evident, board games are much more entertaining than video games.
Sure, multiple people can play video games together. When I say multiple, I mean four, of course, unless you enjoy the thrill of playing against people online, which for all you know are nonexistant. With board games however, there can be a room full of people all enjoying the same game whilst enjoying each others' company. Those who play board games hold such a large advantage over those who don't, because board games give you an opportunity to grow socially while having fun. Very few are the cases where people would prefer to play alone rather than play by themselves, because people like other people. It is wired into our very system, we find comfort in our friends and family, and how in the world are we supposed to connect with these people and make more friends if we spend our time blowing people up on video games? Now you may think I'm stereotyping video games to first person shooters, but the fact of the matter is, a majority of all best selling games are in fact first person shooters, and this is where you find your child, learning the quickest way to end the life of another human being. It's quite a scary thought, wouldn't you rather have your child develop a heightened ability of strategic thought while growing into the social butterfly you've been dreaming of?
With life, there is no reset button. When things get a little messy, and you find yourself in a dire situation in a video game, you are just one button away from trying again, and again, until you win. Not only does this display a disappointing lack of concentration, it gives the player the false sense of security in the ability to "avoid failure" by restarting, which almost always leads to more failure. The sad, but ever so real, fact of the matter is that you can't do that in real life. With board games you get one chance, with which you learn to do things right the first time and therefore reap the rewards of victory. This mindset will result in many occassions where you will thank the heavens that you could concentrate long enough to finish that math test, or that english project, or even that college entrance exam. And trust me, those things are very real.
Everybody can enjoy a good board game, and board games themselves are made so you can interact with other people and have fun doing it. Even though video games can be entertaining, there just not multi-oriented. And fortunately, there are no board games rated Mature, neither is there an age limit. The only limits in board games are your willingness to play and your imagination, which gives everyone a chance to play.

"....I will sound my barbaric yawp around the world..."

I'm done. I am finished with this incompetance that swirls around the globe like the black plague itself. This evil set of traitorous and demonic hate entrenched in us from the beginning will be our downfall as a community, as a city, as a country, as a planet, and I for one am not finished with our planet just yet. This problem where everybody, everybody, has a problem with trusting other people, how can doubt be such a universal sin? This world dwindles in unbelief, as even the closest friends and most passionate lovers hesistate to believe, and continue to cause dissension. Are we not to be trusted? Are we so hateful and drawn to that of pessimissm that we cannot stop to take a leap of faith and check our prejudices at the door? This doubt we harbor cripples us in every fashion, with everyone assuming we are out to get each other. I for one will not tolerate this any longer. No longer will I tolerate such a disgusting habit. Never again will I let anyone tell me who I should like, and who is too strange for tolerance,especially those who think of themselves above others. And I will never, Never let anyone tell me what where I'm going and what I'm going to do with my life, I'm much to important to be driven around like a mindless drone. I see it every day, mindless teens being molded by their parents, who chose their classes, their jobs, and their very views and opinions. Even though it be unintentional, parents force themselves onto their teens, and often crush their teens' most desired dreams. I for one will never hear again my mother or father ever tell me that I can't do it, that I cannot follow my dreams. Because I know what I want to do with my life, and I know my potential. I will change the world. And no one will tell me different. There are 6.5 billion people around the world, all calling my name, and I will not disappoint them. Realism, hah! I was meant for much greater things than my current reality will allow.
I have the power to change the world and with that the responsiblity to do so. I will change the world, I will follow my desires, and most of all I WILL BE HEARD!!!!

Champion All Star? How about a Champion Some Star

They can do it all. Sports, academics, social appearance, all in the grace of near perfection. You know of whom I speak, these robots, oiled with ambition and fueled with an unknown drive to do everything fill our school and dance through our halls. We stand out of their way, staring on with a look of incredulity, as our logical thinking fails to answer our questions of "how they do it" and gives way to our imagination to fill the holes of ignorance. "They must be born with it" is a reason oft used to describe these student's amazing disease. These students who work so hard in their college-level classes only to attend sports practice afterward are the question of everyone as no one understands why they do it and when they have time to have "fun." To begin with, let's clarify a few items of discussion.
What is fun? It's the sense of pleasure and excitement one feels while participating in an activity that produces these feelings, right? If fun is so varying to each individual's personality, then who are we to judge what fun is and who should be having it? Your right, we shouldn't be passing such judgement on those workaholics we observe from a distance. It could be by chance that they are the ones who enjoy school and learning, not to mention hardwork and practice. Or perhaps they are a part of the select few who thrive under huge amounts of pressure, quite like a fire hydrant. Without structure to their lives they burst forth in a fountain of chaotic mess, accomplishing nothing and getting nowhere, but when that power is harnessed and focused in a certain direction, it can be used to save the day, as a fire hydrant can be used to save a burning building. This theory goes hand in hand with the next, stating that by chance these students have extroardinary foresight and give forth a herculean effort to fasten their long term goals into that of tangible safety and reward.
All I know is that me and people like me will never be able to join these people in their pilgrimage for perfection, although I head in the same direction they have chosen the higher road and frankly, I'm afraid of heights. We'll never be able to join the "fire hydrants" of our school who keep our school's reputation as the greatest gathering of child-prodigy in the state, because compared to them I and others like me are only garden sprinklers, who only enjoy sporadic moments of acheivement in order to keep our lives green and growing.
Must we be good at everything? Is there not a time where we can lay at ease and revel in our accomplishments, or must we always be progressing, striving to be the best at everything? This question you must ask yourself individually, are you willing to bear the burden of perfection? Or will you stop at the crossroads of ambition and insanity, to stand your ground and state your name, who you are and what you are, not who you will be and who you could be. Will you be among those eager to impress, continually feeling the need for beating those around you and declaring your dominance, or will you relax and come to know yourself?I now speak of another type of person, those who build their lives on the opinions of their peers. These people, weak and confused on the inside, yet strong dominant on the outside, will always appear in your life, these people feel no comfort in outward excellence, yet that is what they are defined by. It is strange that people like this, who are so strong-willed and anxious to succeed only to satisfy their ego, rely so much on the opinions of their peers, which at some times can be worth less than the air it takes to state it.
Once again, will you take this path of fragility as succeed only in the eyes of those around you, or will you relax and stop to come to know yourself? When you do this-come to know yourself and pause for reflection-you will be able to further your strengths and fortify your weaknesses, in retrospect to those who always try to be better than others, who use their ambition as a vehicle to keep them running from who they really are. You will be able to stand independant of the thoughts of others and rise through the judgemental misgivings, like the sun parting the clouds you will shine forth and others will follow, convinced of your confidence and sure of your ability. And that my friends, is when you become numbered among the greatest of great and the strongest of strong. When you know who you are and where you stand the whole world will fall into place around you.

A direct definition from the Dictionary of HolmSlice

Referendum 1. (Re-fer-end-um)
1. A blatant disregard for the progession of education of middle class students as they continually put forth a growing amount of effort to counteract the lack of educational funding in the state of Utah.
2. The result of excessive lobbying from the higher class families who can afford to send their children to private school, yet proclaim a "need" for additional reimbursement for their participation in this nation's government taxation program, which in turn provides an education for this generation who is soon to be in leading this nation in tomorrow's world.
3. an ill-conceived joke

As an addition to this dictionary we also provide a break down and interpretation of the root words in the word previously mentioned. Here is a closer look at the meaning of the word "Referendum 1" beginning with the root word "refer"
(Refer)-- To refer is to give reference or allude to a source of information related to the given subject. An example of this would be me referring to the "no child left behind" proclaimation give by our president, which will prevent students from falling behind in school thus giving everyone equal opportunity to learn and grow to be successful individuals later in life. This would be exponentially difficult with less funds in the public education system, seeing as Utah is already the number one state with the least amount of money in the schools and educational system.
(End)--The word end describes the closure of anything, simply the end. A great example of this would be the end of support for our local government from the majority of Utah's population." "This could end the careers of many of our beloved politicians in their place of civil office," is a great example of the word end used in a sentence.
(Um)--The word um is used to describe confusion and/or frustration. a great example of the word um can be seen in the following sentence. "Um, why is referendum 1 even up for debate, um, I don't see the point in taking money from our already monetarily malnutritioned public schools, and um, this is just plain ridiculous!"

Referendum 1 used in a sentence: "I'm glad our local government has a sense of humor, but Referendum 1 is about as useful as....it's not even worth using as a joke anymore, let's just pretend that it never happened."

This concludes today's definition from the Dictionary of HolmSlice.

You have freedom of speech...As long as you stay quiet

In the first amendment in the United States Constitution, all American citizens are given the right of freedom of speech and press, and every student is taught of the enormity of sacrifice our forefathers put forth just to give us that right. Freedom of speech is as valuable to Americans any other unalienable right, and is viewed as the last right to be taken away by an unjust government before rebellion ensues and among the first to be retaken as the unjustly governed take control. As previously mentioned, we are all taught about our rights and how to use them, but why is it that in various activities and classes over at Davis High we are discouraged to voice our opinion? Even our prized school newspaper is censored to an extent, which, when thought about, gravitates an air of incredulity. The sole purpose of the Davis Dart is to inform and entertain the readers on current issues that affects the students. To censor our paper would be to omit a portion of information on the issue, which in other words is omitting the truth, which in other words is lying. The newspaper isn't the only one suffering from this hypocritical backlash, the Davis High Marching band has entered into a recent conflict of heated debate. This conflict is a highly sensitive issue to both arguing parties, so without further ado I send my opinion and bias hurling through the air into this agitated minefield.


The Colorguard. An all female section of the marching band which just so happens to include some of the most attractive girls from Davis High School, is restricted by the Colorguard advisor to an all girl bus for all bus trips to competitions and so forth. This injustice infuriated the male portion of the marching band, which just so happened to be on good relations with the Colorguard, a few of us anyway (I know I'm on really good terms). To counter this horrible decision, the few of us who really cared about this situation designed a petition, to use simple civil disobediance to respectfully disagree and present our opinion to the advisor. The Colorguard agreed with our petition wholeheartedly, but were cautious to sign. As the number of signatures grew, the power behind our cause gained momentum and we were sure to sway the Advisor and show her the error of her ways. Unfortunately she caught word of the petition before we could present it to her and she announced that if there was anyone on Guard who had signed it they would be removed from the Colorguard. Fortunately none of the Colorguard had signed it, but that does not justify the harsh ultimatum thrown at the Guard like that. I don't know if you can see the same injustice I see everytime I hear that, or feel the anger that I do everytime someone is denied their rights to freedom of speech and freedom of press. Oh don't worry, it gets worse. Being a group not easily discouraged, this band of kids and I went to the top-Dr. Homer. We described our situation and presented him with our petition bearing the signatures of over a hundred people, the voices of over a hundred people screamed from those papers, demanding justice from our underserving oppressors. Our mentors are here for us, we are not here for them! No longer will I slave away under the cracking whip of these "advisor's" forked tongues as they continue force their will upon those unwilling to receive it. These people, whose power hangs in the hearts of their pupils, depend on respect which is expected to be given without prerequisite nor trial run. We hold the power! We can turn this around with the slightest of ease, and make things how we want them! This band talks of synergy, well let's see some unification. Our director is there to direct us, not to dominate us. We are the band, we march on the field, we win the awards! Why not run rehearsals, set up are own system of legislation? Now is the time to take control, and govern over ourselves instead of take orders from a distant director. Like the colonies of an infant America, we must grow and fight for independance, for our right to do things our way. This is the call, final and desperate, we must cry out against it now or cry because of it later. The choice is up to you, whether we live for life or live to live, this is your time.

Rain

I love the rain. Never has there been a force of nature that has yet to be the beneficiary of such awe-inspiring power and beauty. This colossal work of art is never the same, and as we experience it over and over again we begin to attach memories and emotions to the weather pattern. Some of us still harbor a quiet fear for this titanic wonder, as massive clouds roll in to blot out the sky and slowly reach out through the dark with their plasmaic tentacles. Others, such as myself, find a feeling of growing excitement that crescendoes into a sudden thrill and rush of adrenaline with every strike of lightning and ominous crash of thunder. These people see thunderstorms differently than others, while most just see clouds and lightning just like every other weather occurance, the same people who feel that excitement whenever it rains see thunderstorms as a phenomenal display of power, which power is left in the hands of a higher being.
Rain in itself has been used to describe and potray, dare I say, archetypal meanings that we all would recognize and have even experienced from time to time. The most widely known would be the raincloud of depression, the one that appears just in time to make matters worse on an already horrible day-the icing on the cake of irritation. Another picture of rain can be seen through the classic kissing-in-the-rain scene, one which happens to be a favorite of the ladies for some reason. This scene usually gives off a feeling of finality and closure as the couple is reunited in the midst of calamity. One final image of rain can be seen in a foreshadowing of something ominous, like the dark clouds billowing in the wind before an enormous battle.
I can honestly say that my life would be quite a lot less interesting without this weatherly wonder to keep my curiousity on its toes, life just wouldn't be life without a little rain!

Held in the Highest Esteem...

Isn't it amazing how when one person, let's choose the stereotypical cheerleader at school, is held in such high esteem by others around her that she begins to become a scapegoat of loathing and misdirected anger from those not as highly respected as her? I have always found it strange, that those who are highly respected are equally hated. Now a major factor in this is self confidence and the overuse of this confidence, and then there's always jealousy and such, but there's something else to it. This conundrum has puzzled me for many a night, and there seems no tangible answer in sight for this question. But I have something else to discuss at the moment, and that would be in the little discovery I made while attending marching band.
Since we are on the discussion of esteem, I now reach out to all those in a position of influence, which just so happens to be everybody. It seems that when a person of influence holds another at an abnormally high level of respect that others around these people begin to respect the disrespected, begin to praise the once unnoticed talent, all because you gave a little effort into treating someone who is less known or less noticed or less respected like they should be treated. By holding someone less noticed in the highest esteem, you can break through barriers once thought to be impossible to destroy; you can mold the very minds of everyone around you as you recreate this person of once low esteem into the very epitome of confidence. But of course you this works the other way as well. By constantly undermining and insulting you can crush someone, bring them to their knees in humiliation, and leave them longing for what they once had. So please use this power that everyone contains-you don't have to be someone important to make somebody feel important.

Yearbooks

The end of school is now at hand, as we approach the final day in which yearbooks are signed along with sly jokes and witty comments-and surprisingly we fall upon this one enigma, what we remember of our school frieds would be what they wrote in said yearbooks. When falling upon this idea at the end of my sophomore year I have come to the realization that I was......ignorant of the longterm effects of my once idealistic and intensely funny signature statements which are now naught but untimely and poorly disguised ruises based on previous inside jokes or plainly humiliating experiances remembered in the school year. However, this is all done in good fun, and one must take into consideration the age and level of intelligence when these quotes are written.
Now we come upon one of the most puzzling quandries which approaches only the night before the last day of school--what to write in peoples' yearbooks. You simply cannot write "H.A.G.S." or "School was fun" oh no, that is simply unacceptable. Nowadays one must find the funniest thing to write, but this is not such a large problem for the ladies. The ladies simply compliment their fellow lady-friends appearance and can even go so far as to compliment their guy-friends on their appearance. This cannot be done with the men, unless done in the most extreme of sarcasm or hilarity, even then it is questionable. Sadly enough, we must carry on, us men, always carrying the heavier burden, and must always travel on this quest for confidence.

Ode to an English Teacher

One day in school I was asked by a rather frustrated teacher to "put myself in his shoes" and imagine how fun it would be to be a teacher. Well, I pondered this for a second, and I figured since my favorite subject is English, I would be an English teacher. Then my teacher suggested I ponder the anxiety one feels on the first day of school, and what I would do on the first day facing hundreds of impatient hyperactive children. I actually took this scenario into consideration, and came up with a speech all English Teachers should read to their classes on the first day of school.

"Welcome you ! You illiterate uncultered parasites! What you see as you step foot in this class is a dark prison, the windows barred with pronouns, adjectives, clauses and commas asthe door is locked with subjects, nouns, phrases and quotes. Think not of these rules as a cage in which you cannot escape and appear to frustrate you at every turn, think of these rules as your weapons of choice, the ones that will lead you to victory as you spring into the arena of life. This arena of archetypes, this land of literature and this ocean of knowledge you will all travel through, sailing on naught but your own imagination and willpower.
And I? I? Why I am your guide, here to lead you on to glorified immortality as your life is etched into the history books one sentence at a time. I am the Master of Metaphors, the Sultan of Similes, the Architect of Archetypes, the tSar of Sound, the Viceroy of Voice, the Patriarch of Paragraphs, the King of Clauses and Pharoah of Phrases! I am the law and the law is I! I am the conductor on the locomotive heading straight for a literary El Dorado, and my passengers are few.
And you? You? You are my lowly apprentices, here to feel the grace of my presence! You are here to serve me, and it might so happen that you learn something along the way! I am the key to your success, the ship on which you sail to freedom! You need me, but I have no need for you! So sit in silence as a sign of respect and humility towards one who holds your so much of your future in so low regard! Keep a standard of diligence higher than any other and always be ready to learn! Then, and only then, will you be one of the few to survive in the real world."

I think that puts the difficulty of a teacher's job into perspective just a little, don't you? I think this speech would be an incredible way to start the school year!

Too many questions, not enough answers

Have you ever wondered why? Why do we drive on the right side of the road, why not the left? Why is it that when we greet strangers we shake hands? Why is it common courtesy to place your napkin in your lap at dinner and keep your elbows off the tables? Why are convicts leaving prison with a college education, when many people who are working hard are being denied a college education? So many questions, yet not enough anwers to go around. Here's a question that you might want to ponder; if you were going to prison and you could choose the reason why, what would it be?
The fact that prisoners today are being sent to jail only to receive satellite television with lazyboy recliners along with libraries full of books and tutors ready to supply these convicts who have broken the law with a college education is revolting and completely wrong. Hey! maybe if I want to go to college, instead of working really hard to get accepted into a school I'll just blow up Albertsons! Sounds Great! I think I'll stick to that!
I know that the state of Arizona has got it straight. Convicts in Arizona sleep in tents, and when they are out cleaning up highways, they wear pink polka dotted jumpsuits to let you know they severely regret what they've done. And Let me tell you, the crime rate has never been lower in Arizona!

Spring Break left one broken

Spring Break is often seen as a time of fun and relaxation, right? This year is not the case. After returning from California on a family vacation I heard the news about the death of my grandmother who lives in Idaho and has been very sick for quite a while. Immediately we left for Idaho, rushing to other family members who were in need of assistance due to this shocking twist of events. This is where I spent most of my spring break, in Idaho preparing for and attending the funeral of my grandmother.
I wasn't as close as I would've liked to have been to my grandmother, but I still wrote her letters every once in a while and enjoyed going to see her every now and then. I didn't know that she knew I played the trumpet, so when my aunt told me that before she had passed away she had requested I play taps at her funeral, I was totally taken aback. I have never been that great at performing solos in front of a live audience, and the fact that it was her funeral and emotional stress would be great didn't make me feel much better. But I stepped up to the challenge and practiced every moment I could for this perfomance.
Why is death such a big deal? I mean, of course we mourn for those we love, but why is it feared by everyone? What is this phenomenon that scares us into good health, safer vehicles, and religion? There really is no answer to this question I have asked, but I know one thing, when I have my funeral, I want it to be a party! None of this mourning and sobbing and stifling silence, I want people laughing and remembering the good times, the times of fun.