Peer Pressure?

One problem with me is I’m the type of person who has to read all the books you’re “supposed to” read. I don’t just read for pleasure. Or knowledge for that matter. It’s true I read for both those reasons primarily, mostly just because I love it. But there’s also this streak in me that reads novels simply because people who read certain novels are distinguished, respected, and intellectually superior. And that’s lame. It doesn’t always work out either.

My latest example: Foucault’s Pendulum by intellectual of intellectuals Umberto Eco. Now trust me, I don’t know much about Mr. Eco. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. (Update, just googled him, he is). My first encounter with his work was when my brother, generally a reliable source for cool things to consume, bought me “The Name of the Rose” for my birthday. Or was it Christmas? I’m not very good at giving gifts. I just don’t care about them. I think the odd consequence of this is I’m always afraid of undervaluing other people’s gifts. If you give me something, I’ll use it. Guaranteed. I’ll try and treasure it to the greatest extent I can, which in some cases isn’t much, but it’s still as much as possible. So the surest way for me to try something is to give it to me in gift form. And so that is the reason I slogged through all 400 pages or at least what felt like 400 pages if not more of “The Name of the Rose.” Now, it’s not a bad book. It’s quite good actually. And Eco is obviously one of the intellectual elite. Any man who takes no less than 3 languages (I think it was more actually) to write a mystery novel must either exist on another level or be a complete and total snob. I lost interest in the “The Name of the Rose” quickly but I continued doggedly because this wasn’t just some library book I had grabbed off the shelf.

Well I did get something out of it, and it was fascinating in places (if only because it was so long-winded and confusing). But in the end I know of more profound authors who have a simpler, more accessible style. Let’s just put it that way. So WHY, in heaven’s name WHY did I pick up “Foucault’s Pendulum” while perusing the college library last month? Because Umberto Eco is an intellectual and I can feel superior or at least equal to all my intellectually superior friends (of whom I have ever so many **sarcasm**) by saying “oh yes, I read ‘Foucault’s Pendulum’ last week. Marvelous just marvelous, wouldn’t you agree? What did you think of the symbolism of such and such on page 247? I find it to be rather existential myself.” Which is complete and utter crap. I really have very little patience with that sort of thing, except I’m so afraid of being considered ignorant that I don’t dare tell anyone so. I read a few reviews of Foucault’s Pendulum before taking the plunge and all said the same thing: that it was a wonderful piece of work, clever, witty, profound and all the rest. And I wasted hours of my life wading through all of Eco’s obscure references and multilingual banter, because I kept thinking “ah! I’m just on the verge of understanding the point behind this monster of a book!” And it does have a point behind it and I kind of vaguely get it but at this point I don’t really care. Whenever you haven’t figured out if you like a book and you’re 2/3rds of the way through, chances are you don’t. So much for my intellectual superiority. I have no idea why the text is gradually getting bigger!

This one was my favorite

When did you last set aside time to pray? Sure, small groups and Bible studies abound on the X campus, but many still find that making time for their faith is difficult.

“The minute I sit down to spend some time [with God] the distractions keep coming,” said Courtney X, a theology major in her senior year. She mentioned classes and lack of sleep as the main obstacles in setting aside time for her faith. Courtney said making time for prayer is something she’s been more successful at this semester than in any other semester in her college career, but noted that she’s still busy. She’s simply made it a priority. “If I find myself really getting distracted, I’ll do something else for a while so I can focus later,” she said, adding that sometimes physical activity helps keep her alert.

Keith X, professor of theology, advised looking to Jesus as the model of how to properly spend time with God. “He did it by himself and pulled his disciples away for it as well. We are made to have a break from constant activity.”

Chaplain Terry X agrees. “Sabbath is really important,” he said, defining “sabbath” not as Sunday, but as an extended block of time used to break the rhythm of life for rest and worship. Terry believes that our fast-paced culture does nothing to encourage sabbath and commented that he hasn’t found many students at X who practice taking a regular time of rest.

However, both Terry and Keith were quick to note that “quiet time” is by no means the only way to connect with God. “For centuries it was the practice of Christians to gather regularly morning and evening to pray together.” That’s been lost, Terry said, partly because our society is so focused on the individual.

“The totality of one’s life is devotion to God,” said Keith, explaining how people can miss the point when it comes to “devotions.” “I don’t think prayer and scripture are the only avenues of worship. The effort you put into your coursework is worshipping God.” Keith stressed that being a good steward is part of worship.

But what should a student do when in need of a Sabbath? How can someone make time for a break when busy being a good steward in academics?

“It’s a time-management issue,” said Keith, who recommends keeping a log of how you spend your time. “I think people would find it very interesting,” he said, noting that many of us waste time on pointless activities.

For those who have trouble finding a place to get away to, some imagination may be needed. Courtney cites the dorm basement and laundry room as good places to go when it’s too cold to venture into the Back 40. X has no full-time prayer chapel, largely due to space limitations. However, there are now prayer meetings at noon in the Chapel on Wednesdays. People can come with prayer requests, or pray for requests that have been submitted via the college’s website.

Another unique option is a visit to the Open Door theme house located at X. The residents of the Open Door have created an off campus prayer chapel. Mary Trotter, one of the Open Door’s residents, said she felt a place for prayer was needed through her experience with dorm life as an underclassman.

“Personal and soul health is as important as your grades,” Trotter said.

Website article

Here's article number 2. This was more of the rough draft.

It’s not an evaluation any college professor would welcome: “Houston, we have a problem. Space cadet of a teacher isn't quite attached to earth.” So claims one user of the website www.ratemyprofessors.com.

Advertised as a resource for choosing professors, the website has also developed a reputation as a haven for angry college students.

“Some of [the reviews] are just brutal,” said Forrest X, professor of philosophy. Forrest has been at X College for 28 years and has been reviewed 30 times on the website. While most of his reviews are positive, he’s right in saying that other professors haven’t been so lucky. “Not only is the book a better teacher, it also has a better personality,” quips one reviewer.

Diana X, chair of the Faculty Promotion and Tenure committee, believes that it’s unnecessary professors to visit the site at all. Diana thinks the site has value as an outlet for frustrated students, but she doesn’t feel a need to concern herself with it.

RateMyProfessors.com hosts anonymous reviews of professors at various colleges. It is currently open to more than 6,000 colleges and universities and lists more than 770,000 professors.

Ratings are based on a five-point scale, evaluating clarity, helpfulness, easiness, and overall quality – the average of the clarity and helpfulness scores. If a professor scores well, a yellow smiley face is displayed beside his or her name. If scores are mediocre, the face is green and unsmiling. If scores are poor, the professor receives a blue frowning face. There’s even a little chili-pepper icon displayed if a professor is considered “hot.”

Despite its attempts at providing an objective rating system, ratemyprofessor.com has a few pitfalls.

“It’s completely unscientific,” said Forrest, noting that part of the problem is that there’s no way to tell who wrote a review. Someone could easily review the same professor multiple times or never have taken the class or even not go to the school. Even the website’s owners admit that the ratings aren’t “statistically accurate” but are quick to add, “we often receive emails stating that the ratings are uncannily accurate, especially for schools with over 1,000 ratings.”

Kristin X, a freshman, said that even if not used as a resource, the site has entertainment value. Kristin hasn’t noticed many vicious reviews. “People are generally pretty nice,” she said.

Student Trevor X says he’s used the website “pretty extensively” to research professors. “Taken with a grain of salt, you can get a good feel for what to expect.” Trevor said he would recommend the site as a student resource, but cautioned that he is careful to take reviews on a case-by-case basis and that he wouldn’t swear by it. “It’s a way for students to have a voice. Like any tool, it can be misused.”

Squirrel Article

So I've decided to post the articles I wrote for my Writing for Mass Media class this semester. Just because I need a break. My college will be replaced with an X of course, because I'm paranoid. I didn't have enough space for this one and it could onl

They may be cute, but X’s squirrels also have a dark side.

“I have found them to be somewhat messy little beasts,” arborist William X said. “When you see clumps of pine needles laying on the grounds, the squirrels are usually the culprits. They also like to raid the trashcans for food and fun. William has even had sinister encounters with the little “varmints” as he calls them. “I have had squirrels try to attack me.”

Squirrels can even cause costly damage. “In Ballard on the third floor a squirrel managed to eat through the window frame. This squirrel cost about $500 in damage,” said Dick X, supervisor of Maintenance and Repairs.

Squirrel-related incidents are nothing new at X. An event with sinister connotations is recorded in the Newspaper’s 1999 October issue. “Did you know about the squirrel who chewed through The phone line? We think it was the first step in their evil plot for a hostile takeover.”

This squirrel paranoia continues today, with even a Facebook group devoted to the subject. Rebecca X created the group “Evil Satan Possessed Squirrel Who Thinks He Owns the World” in response to a territorial squirrel that lived on her balcony last year.

“This squirrel would hiss at us when we went out on the balcony,” said Rebecca. “He would also go to this tree right off the balcony and hide there until we were close enough; then he would scare us.”The room’s residents were so unnerved they became uncomfortable doing homework because the squirrel was watching them. “Really we have no idea what was wrong with this creature.:

I Found Things While Cleaning My Room

These are a couple of old stories I ran across while cleaning my room. I still haven't finished moving all my stuff back in... Anyhow, I'm not editing them at all, they're exactly what I wrote. I just thought it would be fun to share them because I think they're cute. This first one was written when I was 11... It's kind of embarrassing actually. I'd say it's a mix between Redwall, C.S. Lewis, and the Lion King...

HOAVE!
A story about lions

Chapter 1

Esulder walked into his tent. His wife Usundra had been reasonably ill. He had left to go hunting, and now was coming back to check on her. Staring into her face he saw that she was smiling at him. Nodding down to a bundle in her arms, she smiled back at him. Looking at the bundle Esulder saw that it contained a lion cub, but this was no ordinary lion cub. It already had a little bit of a mane. Smiling he asked

"what should we name him?" She answered in one word

"Hoave." A look of suprise crossed over his face. His son, named after the greatest lion warrior who had brought hope to Africa, but that night an army of tribals killed Esulder, and Usundra, and took the cub prisoner.

Chapter 2

The tribals were strange animals, who panted their faces. Some were gigantic lizards, some were red sort of birds. They were very evil, and wanted to rule Africa. So they attacked its animals.

The tribals leader was a gigantic dragon. It spewed fire when it was mad, and icy smoke when he was pleased. He had a line of brown fur across his back to the tip of his tail. He was colored black, and green, with fanges as sharp as spear points.

Hoave pushed his plow. A whip slashed across his back. Hoave thought hard, he didn't know where he came from, who his mother, or father were, what his name was, but he knew his father had been a great warrior, for the soldiers had spoken of him. He also knew that he wanted revenge on the tribals.

Chapter 3

One day when Hoave was about fifteen, he was pulling a cart full of tribals, when he stumbled on a rock, and fell down. This made the cart turn sideways, hit a tree, and fall over. Killing some of its occupants. The others got up, badly wounded. The captain handcuffed him saying

"your responsable for this, you will be killed at dawn."

"But it was an accident" Hoave protested.

"Shut up" the captain replied.

Chapter 4

Hoave shivered in the jailhouse. Chained up as he was, he was able to look at Africa out the window. The full moon shown down so he could see clearly. Dry yellow grass blowing in the soft breeze. The trees dotted here, and there, and bushes all around. This would be the last day that he would see Africa. He would have the fate of his father, his father! Suddenly a madness he felt within him told him not to give up. With a fire in his eyes he took a deep breath, and let out a blithering roar

"AROARALALIAR" it echoed off the walls.

Chapter 5

Then he began running fast, and hard. He hit the end of the chains snap! One chain broke. More running snap! Snap! Snap! Soon he was free. Leaping into the window he punched the metal bars with his paw breaking them. Leaping out of the window he landed in the moat with a splash. Swimming to the dungeon window he banged the metal bars with his paw making them break. Leaping in he freed the prisoners. Telling them to follow him he lept out of the window. Those who could swim did the same as he.

Chapter 6

Suddenly they heard someone say

"whats going on out there?" Soon a whole pack of soldiers ran across the draw bridge. In a flash the young would be warrior barked out orders.

"Go back, and help those who can't swim, I'll fight em off. The brave animals followed his instructions. As Hoave roared out a war cry

"AROARALALIAR" causing the soldiers to stop in their tracks. He charged at them slashing with claws biting with teeth he slayed many. A few leapords helped him.

"GRRARE" they growled as they started fighting.

Soon all the prisoners were free. Then a more army like group of prisoners started fighting

"AAAROOAARRAAALAALIIIAAARR"

the soldiers retreated. Hoave growled then fell down.

Chapter 7

Hoave awoke aching all over he looked around at his surroundings. He was in a tent, a fire was burning, and a baboon was applying herbs to his wounds. Then the baboon cried

"he lives!" Suddenly the tent was flooded with animals praising him.

"Oh what a brave lion he is!"

"He is amazing such strength!"

"He's as good as Hoave!"

"Lets call him that!"

"Hoave! Hoave! Hoooave!"

With that our story ends.


*laughs* Cute huh? Even then I was a sucker for epic adventure. Okay, I have one more that I wrote the same year. It's a lot longer but I think it's fun. It was part of a 6th grade writing exercise (spelling?) where we had to respond to a picture and an accompanying quote. Mine was a picture of a stream in a forest with a harp sitting on a rock and a boy and a dog in the background. It has illustrations but I don't have a scanner and that would be a lot of trouble anyways.

THE HARP
So it's true. He thought. It's really true.

CHAPTER 1: STORIES

Leroy ran along the street. He was going to see his favorite person, an old man named Chalisto. Chalisto was a wise old man who knew marvelous legends of times long gone. Leroy loved to hear these legends, they put a feeling of magic through him. He knew they weren't true of course, but it was fun to pretend that they were.

Leroy ran into an old rickety house. Only pausing to shout

"Chalisto it's Leroy" and then quickly walking through the front porch, and into the open door.

Inside the house Leroy walked into a bare room, the only thing there was, a rocking chair, fireplace, and an old throw rug.

The fire in the fireplace crackled casting shadows in the dark room. Sitting in the chair was Chalisto.

"Leroy!" Chalisto exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise, you want to hear a story no doubt."

"Yes, please! I love your stories!" Leroy said hopefully.

"I'll tell you about the Magic Harp." Leroy settled down on the rug to listen. "This harp feeds a forest with love, and happiness. Without the harp all things there will die. The harp also gives it's magic to the forest. Beautiful creatures live there beyond compare. When it is played the most beautiful music is heard, notes of love and beauty come from it's strings."

"But who made it?" Leroy questioned.

"A great kind made it."

"What was his name?"

"What IS his name you mean, he still lives. I don't know what his name is. He has a lot of them though."

"But surely this isn't a true story."

"It can be if you believe in it." Chalisto looked Leroy in the eye. "I'm not lying boy, it's as true as you and me. Believe me and you will understand."

CHAPTER 2: THE FOREST

Leroy walked down a back alley in the town. He kicked a stone as he walked. His mind was troubled. How could something like that be true. It was a myth, wasn't it? The old man's eyes had seemed to mesmerize him. He hadn't known Chalisto to lie. Maybe Chalisto was playing with him, teasing him. It seemed as if it had to be true. Chalisto had acted as if he was in a trance.

"It has to be true!" Leroy said triumphantly. "It must be true. Chalisto wouldn't act like that if it wasn't." Something that magical, true? It couldn't be! He thought. But it must be. He wanted it to be true.

Then, he noticed his surroundings had changed. He wasn't in the back alley anymore. He was in a forest. It was beautiful, marvelous, magical. But where did it come from? Where was he?

CHAPTER 3: THE HARP

Back in his house Chalisto wondered, would Leroy believe him? If he did, would he be able to overcome the danger that threatened the forest? Chalisto wondered.

Leroy stared about him. Fluorescent greens from the trees seemed to shine down on him, mixed with the light browns of the thick over hanging tree trunks. Vegatation loomed everywhere. Beautiful flowers grew there, with colors I couldn't even describe.

"Who are you?" a voice questioned.

"Who's there?" Leroy said shakily. A dog stepped out of the shrubbery.

"I'm here." Leroy stared at the dog.

"You talked!" He exclaimed.

"Of course I talked, you talked and your not amazed of that. I can see your new here."

"Yes, I'm new here, but you talked!"

"Would you get ober it. You're acting as if I shouldn't be capable of talking."

"Sorry, it's just that, where I come from animals don't talk."

"Well you aren't where you come from, are you? Not every place will be exactly like your world ya know."

"Of course, how silly of me." Leroy realized that he was in no ordinary forest. "I'm a little thirsty. Could you lead me to some water?"

"Sure, we're quite close to some now, look." Leroy looked up ahead, and saw a breath taking sight. A stream, but no ordinary stream. It seemed to make music, as it trickled around rocks, and splashed quietly down a small waterfall into a pure turquoise blue pool, of great depth. Ripples on the surface seemed to be magical. But this is not what took Leroy's breath away. Sitting on a rock, in all it's beauty and magic, was The Harp.

It seemed to shine like the sun. It's strings made of only the purest water-like substance. The top of the harp bending it's way up looping itself over the bow-like front. It certainly looked magical.

Then Leroy realized what this meant. This was the harp Chalisto had spoken of. This was the forest. He had believed, and it had become true.

So it's true! He thought. It's really true!

But suddenly a shadow passed over the harp, and then it was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE WOLF

Leroy gasped. What had happened to the harp? Then he noticed it. The forest was different.

The trees that were once full of life turned gray and died. Flowers wilted, the stream went dry, and slowly but surely the dog began to disappear.

"What's happening to you?" Leroy gasped.

"The harp is gone, I am leaving."

"Where?"

"To your world. I will become dumb, like the animals there." The dog's voice became a gasp for air. "The other creatures here," he continued, "will be put into slavery, and..." He gasped for breath, "Replaced with horrid creatures that will take you prisoner. You must leave." With that he was gone, just like the harp.

Then Leroy gasped again. Taking the place of dog, was a blazing red eyed wolf! Leroy could hear Chalisto's voice inside his head.

"Run!" It warned. Leroy ran for his life, as the black wolf chased him. He couldn't make it. The wolf was to fast. Leroy tripped over a tree root, he scrambled to his feet. He could feel the wolve's hot breath on his neck.

Then he saw an over-hanging branch. It would make a good staff.

Leroy had often used staves. He had practiced every day. Now he had to use one, if he was going to survive.

He grabbed the branch off the trunk with a SNAP! Turning he dealt the wolf a hefty blow, swinging the staff left and right. He hit the wolf across the back! The wolf lunged at him, digging it's claws into Leroy's shoulders! Leroy used the butt of the staff to hit the wolf in the head. The wolf howled with pain! Leroy's shoulders ached. Pain shot through him like a flash of fire! He struck out! The wolf caught the staff in it's mouth, and broke it with a CRACK!!! Leroy went down under the wolf!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER FIVE: THE BATTLE

Leroy groaned. Where was he? Everything was black. A dark shape moved past him. Then he saw something frightening! All around him were hideous creatures, armored to the teeth.

Leroy reached for the skinning knife he kept in his belt, but instead of a skinning knife he pulled out a sword!

It was a plain sword. It was really long! Long as a staff!

Leroy gripped the weapon in both hands.

"Let's fight boy!" Leroy looked up. There in golden armor, was Chalisto! His armor matched the sword. It cast a glow around them. Leroy had never seen anything like it!

"Chalisto! What are you doing here?!"

"No time to talk, only time to fight. This is for the land I once lived in."

Leroy couldn't believe it! So that's how Chalisto knew it was true. He had lived there.

He turned back to the creatures. He was filled with fright.

The creatures charged! Chalisto charged! Leroy gulped, and flung himself into the fray.

Chalisto's mighty battle axe was swinging in a blur, flaying left and right. Leroy was surprised that a man so old could fight so well! Then Chalisto called out

"I cannot help you anymore! You must finish this yourself!"

Then, from out of nowhere, a poisoned arrow hit Chalisto, and he fell down under the creatures! Then he disappeared.

CHAPTER SIX: THE BEAST

O.K. Leroy thought. Chalisto wants me to do this by myself. I'll make him proud. Swinging the sword, he plowed through the army of creatures! Then a hideous beast stepped in front of him! It was humongous! It's weapon was a strange devise. The handle was a huge club! A spear point was on the bottom. The blade was a sword blade that curved into an axe! The creature raised his weapon and they began to fight! The creature hit Leroy with the club, and poked him with the spear! Leroy swung the sword, but the creature blocked!

Then Leroy saw the harp! This put a fresh burst of energy through him! Leroy faked a move, then slashed the creature! The creature swung the axe, and Leroy knew he was a gonner, but the axe clanged harmlessly off! Leroy looked down, he was clad in golden armor, just like Chalisto's. It must be magic, Leroy thought. Then he looked up and began to stab wildly. The creature tried to get Leroy, but Leroy blocked him. Slashing, stabbing, and swinging Leroy forced the vermin to the ground! Then with one swift stroke, the creature vanished! All that was left was the rags the creature had been wearing.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE END

All of the creatures vanished. The forest began to materialize around Leroy and the harp. A man dressed in purple robes approached Leroy.

"Welcome!" He greeted. "I am the prince of the forest. You have defeated the darkness.

"I suppose you want me to explain everything. I will.

"The darkness has been trying to destroy us ever since Chalisto was a boy. He was awarded the position of the Golden Knight for a brave deed he had done. When he got older, he was no longer able to protect us. He had to choose a young boy to take his place. He chose you. I didn't think you could do it, but you did."

"What about the sword?"

"Chalisto slipped his sword into your belt, you couldn't have fought with a skinning knife.

Now we have a new danger. We are constantly threatened. You must take Chalisto's place."

"I will." Leroy vowed.

EPILOGUE

Archie ran into an old rickety house, only pausing to shout,

"Leroy it's Archie!" He quickly ran through the open door.

"Archie" Leroy exclaimed, "What a pleasant surprise!" The old man sat down. "You want to hear a story no doubt. I'll tell you about the Magic Harp."


Awwww, that ending's so cute. Fun times. I loved making up stories like that. I just usually didn't finish them. Well, there's a little glimpse into my childhood. Hope you enjoyed it if you read all of that.