Last post ever

When I leave M.S. 51 I am never going to write on my blog again. It has been rather annoying for me to have to write about what I'm reading, what thoughts are in my head. I like to keep my thoughts in my head, where they wont have a chance to be shared. In some respects, I am a very private person, in others I am outgoing, but when it comes to my thoughts, I like a more personal approach, rather then electronic one.

I think this blog would have been a lot better, if I didn't have a deadline. Having the words, blog post due Friday, on the board every week, makes the task more daunting, then a way to expand my ideas and thoughts. If the blog was more free from and I didn't have to do one every single week, for a grade, then I'm sure it would be a better experience.

A question on Mrs. Rear's blog I saw, was something like, "do teenagers abuse the power of being able to say things online that they would not say in person." Oh definitely. I have been guilty of this many times. They don't always have to be bad things, but the Internet makes things so much easier to say things on your mind, because you don't have to think of immediate consequences.

Thanks for all the non - existent memories "Kentucky Fried Writing".
                         - Theo

Just gorgeous

Lets cut to the chase. My book is about a Jewish family who own a restaurant in midtown Manhattan, and being the Jewish Russian immigrants they are, they always use the word gorgeous. Everything is just gorgeous to them. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. They can't get enough of it, and neither can I. So basically today, I want to talk about the word of the day: Gorgeous.

When something is gorgeous, what do we think off? I think of something that is not beautiful. It can be rather close to beautiful, but there is just something lacking from the whole word itself. Beautiful is an adjective that in itself is beautiful. Gorgeous is more of the word of the common folk, something that anyone can use to just describe anything. While beautiful is used to describe the greater things in life. Flowers, paintings, culture, people. Gorgeous is used to describe things like hats, and excessive make - up use.

Gorgeous is common folk words. It is the scum of the bottom feeders, no one will touch it. Soviet Russia wants to crush the word itself. It must perish.

I really let that blog post leave my grasp as well.

THEY'RE GREAT!

At this moment in time, my philosofamily is reading a book called The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, much to the dismay of Michael, who thinks this book is so horribly boring, that he would rather be doing something completely different. Wow, how original. I personally think the book is great, but it does take a little while for things to get interesting.

Once things do get interesting, we meet a wonderful character named Ray Gatsby, who lives the social life like never before. His house is packed with random strangers, many who just arrive by themselves. All the time he is just waiting for something, which I won't spoil. Our main character calls this man, "the great Gatsby", hence the tittle of the book. I know this is a pretty ordinary and vague question, but what makes someone great?

If a monarch or a athlete is particularly good at doing his or her job, then they may be referred to as great, but Gatsby is no Monarch. So why does he receive this illustrious tittle? Well, I think it is because he is somewhat of a legend. Even though great is not the best of word choices, if someone called me great, I would be very happy, and rather bashful. of course, Gatsby is always bashful, and...

I really lost track of my thoughts here.

Great is a tittle, I think is weak in word choice, but powerful as a complement.

Which of course is why everyone buys Frosted Flakes

Climbin' In Yo Windows (Blog Marathon 2)

Your house should be something you feel safe in. It is yours after all, why should you think any harm could come to you? Home has a feel to it that just feels so snug. A perfect feeling. But those feelings can be changed. Sometimes, horrible things can happen, which change your Ideas of everything you thought before.

In a book I just finished called Saturday, by Ian Mcewan, or main character, Henry, gets into some fisticuffs with some prestigious gentlemen from a lap dancing club. Unfortunately for Henry, the men are not happy with Henry's use of wit to take on their brute force. So they end up following his wife home, and intruding on his family reunion, with a knife. I will not spoil the ending, but I thought about how if this was a real person's story, that he would have a changed idea of how safe his house is, and rightfully so.

I hate the feeling of being traumatized. It has happened to me before, not the men coming into my house with a knife, but being traumatized, and I have to say it is life changing. You end up never thinking about the thing in the same way. No matter how hard you try, something big has changed in your mind, and you can do nothing. The feeling is there.

It's a horrible feeling.

Tickles Me Funny Bone (Blog Marathon 1)

Humor. The essence of many lives and careers, brought into focus through comedy. Being funny. It is a way many choose to relax, or make things better. Got fired from your job? Make a funny joke. Cat just died? Well, screw that, I feel like laughing, and so should you.

Why am I speaking of humor? What devil witchcraft has brought that word into my sacred blog? Well, I am reading a wonderful book by the name of Experience, by Martin Amis. In this book, subtle laughs are behind each page, and no story is without a chuckle. Even on the back does it say; "Experience is the only book I have ever read, that keeps me laughing all the way through." I almost entirely agree, except I am not one to laugh out loud at most anything, let alone a book. Still, high praise indeed.

It started to make me think about what makes a book good? I have read so many books, but all the ones that stand out have no comedy in them. They all are serious, and sullen, and sometimes witty, but never plain funny. As easy as it is to make a comedy movie, a comedy book seems to be impossible. Classics do not include those books about Butts, they came from Uranus or something. The Classics are Charles Dickens, Shakespeare and Tolstoy. No pure comedy.

The world needs funny books.

H to the I

It is finally time for me to come clean about something. I absolutely hate hipsters. They are all so stupid, with the way they try to act cool by acting like they are not trying to act cool (that was complicated, but you will get it). They all have such good lives, living in their condominiums with others of their kind, enjoying the luxuries of the upper west side, eating good but over priced food. I hate them all.

And yet I want to be just like them.

They are my Idols. Not the fake ones who wear expensive clothes and rip them with scissors to make them look wore. No, not them, but the poser generation X's. The ones who left lalapolooza for the joys of cafes. I want to sit in a cafe, read a Virginia Woolf novel, and sip an over priced but not half bad espresso. That would be the day...

Of course, I begin to think about all this because in my book, Saturday by Ian McEwan, The neurosurgeon comes downstairs to find his young adult son eating a yogurt with tons of dried fruits and granola. A very hipster - ish thing to do.

Just what I want to do.

I want to be a fireman!

In childhood, we all want to be famous, or something along those lines. A famous chef, a famous doctor, a famous musician, a famous athlete. The possibilities are endless. In the very start of a book I am reading called Saturday by Ian Mcewan. The book starts off with a day in the life of a neurosurgeon, who goes from surgery to surgery like he's a fat kid in a candy store. We soon meet his son, Theo (what a coincidence) who is in a minor London indie blues band. It shows the almost awkward father and son bond they have acquired due to the difference in their careers.

They get only about two minutes of conversation out of a airplane that recently flew by their house in flames. They have no bonds whatsoever. I thought about it in my life. Not how my father is a musician and I will never amount to anything in the world of music, but in the way that we will all soon be going off to high school, and most friendships will be broken, due to the fact that people are going to all different schools.

For some reason, the fickle condition of the human mind, will in most situations stop people from making or keeping friends who do not go to the same school, or are in the same line of work. I know that you don't always have much bonding time when you are not in the same place 7 - 9 hours a day. I simply don't think that statistic stops people from keeping friends who they have known for years.

Strong bonds shouldn't break.

Yay, shopping!

I recently finished a wonderful book, by the wonderful name of White Teeth. This book was so entertaining, that when I finished it, I thought that no book could possibly be better then this one. My life was in some dark times. For alas, no book could compare to the witty wonders of White Teeth. Just as I was contemplating suicide (kidding, kidding), a large blue object appeared in my sight. It was my bookshelf.

Like a superhero, my bookshelf popped out of no where and saved the day. For this bookshelf had books I had yet to read. Then came the problem. Which one should I read first? There was The Long Firm and Saturday, Experience and Dreamland, all at my fingers and waiting to be opened.

I have not opened any yet.

Do you know that feeling you get, when someone hands you a present, and you are just stuck thinking, "oh, goodie!" But then all of the sudden you open it and you get some socks, or a Bingo strategy guide. I have the same scenario. I don't want to open any because I'm scared of what might come. If I build up my hopes, just to have them crash down like a airless balloon.

But I will have to eventually.

Funny accents make funny books

We all know the British accent. That hilarious touch that makes the Brits so novel. In a world of English, they are the ones that make us laugh. The comedians. Not the really good ones that are gut wrenching funny, but the ones that are so bad that we don't feel sorry for them, we just laugh at their efforts. Of course, all of this is relevant to both the fact that I am English, and that the book I'm reading which is called White Teeth, has British people with accents in it.

 White teeth mixes humor, with the utter fact that in life, we can't resist the many deadly sins, (for their are more then seven) and morphine is totally bad ass. I'll touch on that in a moment. Basically for me, this book is no walk in the park. The language is complicated, the plot is tough to follow, but every single time I hear Archie say the words "init" or "'pose so" I just laugh a little inside. Do English people actually deny common sense, and completely ignore certain letters, or are they just a little dull? One things for sure, they're really good at football. Don't quite know where that came from.

The English Colloquies, or at least I think that's the word for a certain area's speech habits (Vocab test tomorrow), are freaking hilarious. Someone once said that you need to laugh at your self a little, but laughing at other people is just great. Laugh at the English.

But don't mention Morphine, it's a touchy subject.

I wasn't interested for a while

For my revision blog post, Eamon (my partner), told me to basically expand on my thoughts on a blog post from December 2010, and to relate it to other things. Here is my best attempt at a blog revision:

I read a book a while ago, and it was about a young adult named Chris McCandless or something, I really can't remember, but this book was called Into the Wild. In it, this young adult went out into the woods of Alaska, and eventually died to the annoyance of myself, who was really rooting he would live, even after reading the blurb.

The main thing I pointed out in my post was that Chris went where he did, mainly because he was not interested in his current life. It bored him to such an extent, they he left his cushy Ivy League college, and his wealthy family, to live of the earth. It really got me thinking about how I really wasn't interested in anything myself. Not like Chris, where I would leave my family to try and find myself, but in they way where I suddenly became utterly depressed over the idea that I was in no way interested in anything.

A sinking feeling is a feeling you would always like to avoid. It just makes you go down and down and down. Fortunately enough for me, I sprung back up from that dark place with a new found enthusiasm. The idea that has since it's invention, become the slogan of hundreds of people. The idea of "so what?". So what if I am killing my brain cells from playing video games? So what if I am destroying my legs from crouching behind the plate for hours a week (that's what catchers do)? So what if I forget almost everything I am supposed to do?

It all doesn't matter anymore;

Cause I'm not interested.

(Link to original post) http://thinkwiththeo.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-not-interested.html

blah blah blah minus Ke$ha

I just finished reading a book called the diving bell and the butterfly, which is a stunningly brilliant book by a french author who's name I would rather no attempt to repeat. The author has a syndrome called locked in syndrome, which means he is completely paralyzed, except in his case he can blink his left eye. That is how the entire book was written, with someone siting next to him going through the alphabet over and over again to write out the book. It is an amazing triumph of the human spirit.

Because the author has locked in syndrome, he an not speak. When his family comes to visit him, all he can do is sit there and blink his eye over and over again, while they speak to him. Today in social studies, we learned that garment workers can not speak to each other, or else their pay is docked. Just imagine that. Days where you couldn't talk for hours, and in the case of the diving bell and the butterfly, not speak at all. The author did not utter a word for two years until he died, two days after the book was published.

I love to talk. If it were not for small breaks in class when I could chit chat with my class mates, then I would go stark raving mad. I don't see how anyone could keep themselves alive through years of not talking. I know it sounds drastic, but I would probably end up killing myself, and as I did I would attempt to mutter a few words. Talking makes my world go round. Sharing stories, cracking jokes, it's all so simple, but as we see it could easily be lost at any moment if I ever had a massive stroke. Or, if I was on my own, I would die.

Still no talking.

Steak Diane, Steak Tartar, and a whole lot of Rambling

A book about food. Two of my favorite things wrapped up into one semi - edible package. Yet this book is not a cookbook or a large 140 page recipe. No, this book is called Toast, and it is a memory of Nigel Slater's childhood, expressed through the food of his childhood. A story of his mother's death, his father's death, and his early life in cooking, summed up through Treacle Tart, Jammie Dodgers and Pickled Walnuts. Foods that proved the 70s was all show when it came down to it.

I eat a lot. When I am bored I eat. When I watch T.V. I eat. When I am getting over the death of my grandfather, a little bite to eat helps. Food has become one of the main things that our society is based on. Meat eaters, vegetarians, people who only eat Italian Food, people who hate Italian food. It used to just be food to fuel you until you needed more fuel. I guess someone finally figured out food can be delicious, and not just adequate.

I titled this post Steak Diane, Steak Tartar and a whole lot of Rambling because I will be doing just that;
Rambling. Rambling about food mainly. I absolutely love food. You know, I am writing an essay about the immigrants and food. There is surprisingly a lot you probably didn't know about immigrants and their food. Neighborhoods were divided into culture, and then a sort of food preference circle. A little cult of Pirogi Enthusiasts.

Back to the book, wouldn't it be awesome to have a childhood where you ate almost the best foods? That's what Nigel Slater did. He would have the best meals waiting for him when he got home. He wasn't spoiled or anything, he just had a good taste in food. Oh yeah,

Leave a comment below stating your favorite food/dish.

Who's the bull goose looney? I AM!!!

Ah the 60s. The time of free love, Death of Kennedy, and Woodstock. Mainly Woodstock. But of course, what would the 60s be without the irresistible charm of Ken Kessy's one flew over the cuckoo's nest. The book fondly portrays the 60s ideas of everyone being called "mack", The bull goose loony of the mental ward, and who could forget, more free love.

Why were people so odd back then? I'll tell you. In every class or workspace, their is an attention seeker. Someone who will go to crazy limits, just so they can be acknowledged. They will throw their hands in they air and yell, "look at me, I'm the prime minister of Ireland" while they have a bucket on their head. You know those people, the ones who want to be cool and fit in, but just end up looking really odd.

In the century that is the 1900s, the 60s was that person. The 00s had the new century, the 10s had world war 1, the 20s had the great depression, the 30s had Hitler, 40s Casablanca, 50s rock and roll, 70s had disco, 80s had the collapse of the communists, 90s had the Internet. The 60s had a horrible war that we lost, a bunch of hippies, and the assassination of our most handsome president. What a loser.

Look 60s, we know your big plan. It wont work. Just admit you are not the best and we'll like you more.

Oh wait, you can't admit it.

You died when they burned the freak bus.

Bunch of crazy guys + 1 crazy mental ward = crazy adventures

What exactly defines the word crazy? some people will say crazy is when your are mentally unstable and a danger to society. Other times it's when your friend rolls across a populated street on his back, and is a danger to society. Either way, they're a danger to society. That similar characteristic brings Billy Bibbit, Dr. Harding, and the rest of the gang together at the ward in the book One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest by Ken Kessy

An all - American classic, set in the 60's in a mental ward. A man who is set on trial for rape, declares himself mentally unstable, and is admitted into a mental hospital and almost immediately disrupts the well oiled machined run by miss Ratched, the nurse. The man makes it his personal duty to drive the nurse and her co - workers to the brink of insanity. How ironic.

Until this man comes along, miss Ratched has everything perfectly under control. Everything is set just to her liking, and her fake smile plastered to her face keeps everyone in check. She is the monarch of the ward. She has power.

How intoxicating is power? People who run countries are soon overwhelmed by the fact they literally can run everything in their monarchy, or even democratic society. World leaders, people with any political power are easily subdued by powers looks an luxuries. So are people with any power at all. Directors, bosses, people who run mental hospitals. The fact that they run things gives them that want for power.

Soon, some of us will run things, and try and run them to their liking. That is perfectly understandable, simply do so in moderation. As the son of a Jazz bassist and a Union dance therapist, i ask you to check yourself.

Miranda is a genius except she doesn't want to be all facts

Smart people were once ridiculed for being smart. For thinking about what was deemed not to be thought about, such as why he was king and not this genius free thinker who could save England. In one of Miranda's blog posts on the book Feed by M.T. Anderson, brings up what really makes people smart.

Miranda says that memorizing a bunch of facts does not necessarily make some one smart. Having tons of information stuck in your brain, which can be accessed at any time like a search engine (I.E. Google for those that don't know). She claims that this does not make a person an intellectual genius, simply someone who has a search engine in their brain and can use it whenever. So true.

This made me think about 51, and how we are graded 4 times a year. Each time we are handed our report cards, we all quiver in fear over whether or not we will get a good grade. Soon we glance at those faithful pieces of paper and either sigh with relief, or cry to our friends. Sooner or later, we all share our grades. This is the time when we are put in our place. This is when we are deemed smart, or dumb. But why?

Just because some people are better at memorizing mathematical formulas, or science regents questions, does this make them better then those who have wonderful ideas swimming in their heads and just do not do well on tests? This is exactly the truth, and everyone knows it. That in our middle school community, we are judged by our test grades, and I do not think that it is right to do so. Some do, and those are their views, not mine.

Miranda, thank you for inspiring my short, unnoticed rant on smarts. You have true intellect to think like this.

http://cottoncandymush.blogspot.com/2011/02/google-in-your-brain.html

Dear Ms. Rear

I read the newspaper independently


therefore I have written a independent reading blog post about Egypt. Just saying.

(this isn't a blog post).

Sick Day

At this very moment, I am sick. I am writing this write as ELA class is ending on Thursday. Just thought I'd let everyone know.

Egypt is in a state of turmoil at the moment, as everyday thousands of protesters file out into the streets of Cairo and protest outside the palace of their corrupt dictator. This man, who's name I can not hope to spell, has run a fake democracy in Egypt for over 30 years now. The Egyptian people have finally grown too restless, and want change. The U.S. is stuck in a bit of crossfire, as they totally support the protesters, but then again the dictator has been a loyal ally to the U.S. all his years.

In Egypt, a youth organization has been streaming live images over social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter. The video's have helped rally support for their cause, both in Egypt and abroad. What they're doing is by no means illegal, but of course they are trying to be shut down by the dictator and his supporters as they are denting his support.

What they are doing is by no means that dangerous at all, but it still takes a little courage. This kind of courage is shown by not many, and if it was, the world would be a better place in so many ways. I ask you all to try and get the kind of courage that these people have, and help the world in little ways, that might just be big after all.

shhh, don't tell anyone...

Secrets. What odd things like, "don't tell Tracy, but we're all going to the mall later" or "Don't tell the American public, but we stole Nixon's views on communist Cuba, and forced our wrongfully preachy views upon him." They are made up of little things called words, which in secrets can really hurt people's feelings. Or minds. Or countries. Really though, secrets are dangerous things.

I am still reading The dark side of Camelot, which is really just an amazing book. Every page is a new burst of history I didn't know, and now do. Some pages (or should I say most pages), tell of countless secrets. Countless corrupt secrets that would have destroyed the Kennedy campaign. I like them.

Secrets are so scary. I hate it when people talk behind my back about me, but I love doing it to other people. A good piece of gossip can turn my day around, even when I was having a horrible day. The two faces of secrets makes them a true monster. They can entertain, but at the same time they can destroy. They can be wielded as a weapon, one more powerful the sword. You can't regret things when your dead because you don't think. Secrets can destroy anything from friendships to presidential nominations.

The president of the United States of America is supposed to be someone great. Someone who will help the nation, and at the same time help the world. Humans have secrets. Secrets can destroy people. The president is human. Therefore, the president can be destroyed by secrets.

Probably not just JFK.

The question is not does the president have secrets, but do we want to know them.

Conspiracies are catching.

presidents don't wear pants

Everyone loves John F. Kennedy. He was smart, witty, and good looking. He was the perfect president of the united states, standing up to those mean old communists and the Iron Curtain. His entire family was in politics ( his brother bobby, his dad Joe, and his grandpa "honey Fitz" Fitzgerald). When he was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald, the entire nation wept. 30 years latter, they pondered.

I am currently reading the dark side of Camelot, by Seymour Hersh. The book is a biography that shows off the worst sides of JFK. Trust me, they're tons of them. I personally have always thought JFK was the greatest president who lived. He was flawless. But he's actually not. Don't get me wrong, JFK was a great president, who was a war hero, and a great man. He just had many "quirks" that are mostly responsible of his father. Joe Kennedy's life lesson to his son, was to get rich, go into politics, get married, stay married, have as many children as possible, and have as much sex as possible. In the book, Joe, walks right into a family lunch with a random women, and proceeds to walk by his wife, and have intercourse with the woman. JFK respected his father greatly, and if Joe did it, then he should to. JFK would go on to have many affairs with women before and after he married Jackie Kennedy.

When Al Gore lost to George Bush in the 2000 presidential election, everyone of the Democrats was appalled. They had been cheated. In the election of 1960, JFK stole the votes of Chicago from Richard Nixon, because his father was in with the mob, and they forced people at gunpoint to vote Kennedy, or voted themselves as thousands of people who had actually died in World War Two. Chicago was the state that won Kennedy the election.

Though he had his flaws, so did many presidents. JFK was a very nice, polite man his main problem was just that...

He never really wore any pants.

funny 1900s

Recently, Txai has lent me the first two books in the Tintin series, which I have read before, but mainly just looked at the pictures. This time, I looked at the pictures again (along with the words, I am no longer 6) and noticed how horribly stereotypical those books where. It was appalling.

Every single black person in the book was portrayed to be the shade of midnight and ALWAYS, stressing the always, were either servants who were clueless, or crooks and henchmen to the bad guy. The henchmen looked a lot like monkeys who had just been thrown out a tree. It was strange seeing what people who drew described as. I don't know, it might just be me, but i really think it's creepy to make races stereotyped in cartoons. odd.

Indians are again, very stereotyped. They are shown as angry stupid men, who use the words "um" and "How chief" to an extent. I have never actually met a pure native American, but I have a feeling that they don't get tricked into killing each other by residue being flicked at them by a white kid tied to a stake.

Chinese people are the ones that are so badly portrayed, it makes me laugh. They all where fast food employee outfits that I would assume belong to a burger king drive thru attendant rather then a emperor.
Everyone has eyes that are so slanted they couldn't possibly see from them. Oh, and they all smoke truck loads of opium.

When did the world finally realize that not every Chinese person smokes opium?

Looking through eyes that are not your own

It's been a little while since I have read a really good book. One that makes me wish that I could just skip school and not come home to play video games, but just to read. In House Rules, by Jodi Piculut (Author of the renowned novel My Sisters Keeper), a child with Asbergers (which I can't spell for my life) is put on trial for murder. I have not figured out who did it yet. After reading for a while, I went downstairs to have dinner, and all of the sudden, I was looking at food as if I was autistic.

It's a weird feeling to have, looking through different eyes. The expression is tossed around often, but to actually have a moment where I could understand what these kids are going through was, well, odd. It's like when you dream about your life, but you play the role of someone else.

Trust me, this little experience has not made me think of myself as some sort of sympathetic person, I do feel for those with autism, but really it just made me think about what life would be like black and white. When you have Asbergers, Every question you are asked is very literal, so you answer it likewise. Say I asked a child with Asbergers if he had the time, he would most likely stare at me and say "How could I possibly have control of the time?"

Though a world of literal questions and answers may seem simple, it would probably be very complicated to follow exactly, which is what we would have to do. Who knows, I couldn't handle that world. But obviously some people are forced to.

Rotten punk kids

       I have cleverly deducted why people hate teenagers so much. Why everyone thinks all of us are mean, obnoxious and rude. It is because of the way we are portrayed in books. I'm sure that someone else has already thought about this, but I have a new way of looking at it.
       Say an elderly man is reading a book, about a nice elderly man who reads books about other elderly men. Stay with me. In the book, there are some teenagers who are not that mean, hey are just going through a tough time in there life A.K.A puberty. The man decides that the book was boring and cliche, so he does not like it. In fact, he laments this book. It is the vain of his existence. He goes out for a stroll to clear his head, and he sees some teenagers, just hanging around a street corner. He remembers the book and that teenagers were in it, and boy does he hate that book and everything it talks about (besides elderly men who read about other elderly men, such as himself). He yells "Damn it you punk kids, why do you ruin my life?", and calls the cops.
       I thought about all this, because in a book I just read called someday this pain will all be useful to you, the teenagers are totally awful people, and the main character James can see right through all of there facades and into their horrible inner core. Funnily enough, James is also a teenager and he hates it. Chin up James.
       So now we have seen that the reason people hate teenagers so much, is not because they are bad people. It is because of an overly complex system of ideas and theories that travels through peoples brains and confuses everyone.
       Or we just generally are horrible, rotten, rude, obnoxious, mean, evil, disgusting, menacing, distasteful, degrading to our society people.
       But mine sounds better.