Paper Tigers

So, I'm the first one done my exam. Congratulate me. Or rather, don't. I now have a full bloody hour to wait for class to end and I'm bored. Hence the reason I'm blogging again. Well, that and the fact I won't update for another week and a bit. I'm going up to my friends cottage. It's going to be great fun, but I have to miss brads party since it's on the day I'm leaving. If only I had a Tardis...

Back to the exam, I clocked out 2 and a half pages in an hour and 15 minutes. Not bad if I do say so myself. And what's this? Got it back already! Fairly good mark. I can't complain. I prolly could have done better, but I couldn't stand the crucible.

I always say that I hate the crucible, don't I? But I've never once talked about Gatsby... Well, I have to admit I liked The Great Gatsby when I first read it. I liked it because I got so pissed at the characters. It sounds strange to me, but that's honestly why I liked it. However, I'd have to say I hated Nick the most. Not because he did anything bad, but because he never did anything. He could have stepped in at any time in the book and said that's enough, but instead he says "it's my birthday." good for you, nick. Too bad you don't have any friends left to celebrate it with; Gatsby's dead Tom and daisy left, and Jordan dumped you. That's right, just move back in with your parents. Go play WOW in their basement or something. I don't care if it's not around for another 80 years.

You know, I devised a theory about Nick. He's an alien sen to observe us. Think about it. He hardly ever speaks, never steps in, just lets everything take its course. That, coupled up with the fact that he knows every detail of everything, even when he isn't at the event. Ex, when Wilson goes crazy. He knows who was with Wilson between what times, what the person looked at while they were there, and even every word the characters said to each other. Now that you think about it, it's true isn't it? EVERY DETAIL.
I might even write an essay on the topic. I'll post it of I do.

In the meantime, the lyrics from a near-perfect song:

I'm gazing at faces staring blankly at me
Oh I suppose it's just a sign of the times
They tell me tomorrow I'll never arrive
But I've seen it end a million times.

The Post-Birthday Blog

Well, I am no longer broke. Thanks to a generous birthday gift from my grandma, I now have some money to live on until I get a job.
Speaking of which, yesterday was my birthday. And in all honesty, I was slightly disappointed. I had plans - several plans - but they all fell apart. Harry Potter exhibit, Lightsabers, Doctor Who finale. None of it worked out. /rages/

But it's not all bad. I got a new desk for my room (The model name is Cardiff, how awesome is that?), I'm old enough to drive (My mom's been looking into driving school for me), and I saw Despicable Me on Friday. Now, you can think what you like, but that movie was absolutely hilarious.

Overall, not bad. Then there's more good news; we're watching two movies in class tomorrow: The Crucible, and Monty Python and the Quest for The Holy Grail. My teacher said there's a part about witches in the Quest for the Holy Grail, and so we're watching it. I haven't seen that movie in a long time.

Moving on.

Soooo, did anyone see the Doctor Who finale yesterday? I know I did. Jack, you were at a Star Wars concert, so you're excused.
Personally, I thought it was brilliant. Bit confusing, but congrats to Moffat for pulling that complicated story together. The only thing that bothers me is River Song. To quote one of the guests on InnerSPACE, "She's like that friend who has a secret, and keeps telling you they have a secret, but won't tell you what it is." Her repetition of the word 'Spoilers' is equally annoying. Unfortunately, she's becoming more and more of a main character. /rages again/
Amy's fantastic, though. Funny, brilliant, crazy, sexy. And she's signed on for at least two more seasons!
Matt's great too. He's a wonderful and quirky doctor. Slightly outshined by Amy as he may be.
I'm going to have a tough time waiting for the new season at christmas now...

Until then I've got Torchwood to catch up on. I'm still on season 2 (Curses, schoolwork), so that'll keep me going for a while.

Well, that and other things. Like Brad's 'small-ish get together' next weekend. It should be fun. Someone mentioned jello shots. Oh dear. :/

Well, I have nothing more to say for today. Except one thing.

Geronimo!

~V

Soul In Isolation

Hello again, whoever you all are.

I'd just like to reiterate how horrible The Crucible is. We have a test tomorrow, and I just finished the script for our presentation on it, so I really don't wanna study.

On a random note, I'm going to make the title Soul In Isolation, because that's the song I'm listening to right now. It's by The Chameleons.
The Chameleons are the most underrated band of all time; They're brilliant but unknown.

LOOK THEM UP!!!

I'm loading their CD onto my computer right now, actually. Haha! there's a clown on this one! It's called, "Why Call It Anything?" Ironic title for an album. Quite like their lyrics. Always ironic, often dark-ish lyrics.
I'm really wishing there were tabs for some songs... Especiall Up The Down Escalator. That's a great one. Script Of the Bridge is definitelly their best. I mean, it's got a song called Monkeyland! Great song, too.

/loses thought process with song change/
"If there was a point to that statement, I'll get back to you."
Doctor Who reference FTW. I think it applies here.

Speaking of Doctor Who, I went to Indigo today and used my gift card to buy a SHINY NEW DOCTOR WHO BOOK! It's called Night Of The Humans, and I started reading while walking down Brant Street. It's one of only two books I found in the store with The 11th doctor and Amy. Something tells me I'll be reading till 2am tonight. (Jack I know you're jealous. I'll lend it to you once I'm done :P)

On another note, my birthday is in 2 days! I'm kinda excited, because I'll finally be able to get my driver's license! Beware, Streets Of Burlington! Muahaha!!!

Well, I'm done for now. I'll leave you with these words of wisdom.

No walls
Can keep me protected
No sleep;
Nothing inbetween me and the rain,
And you can't save me now;
I'm in the grip of a hurricane;
I'm gonna blow myself away.

Cannons are Inferior to Fukiyas

Japan may be still be known for ninjas, but they are far less common than they were in the past. It’s a very outdated stereotype. That being said, I was trained at one of the last ninja schools left on the islands. It was a long time ago- as you can tell from my wrinkles and cane, that’s an understatement. My most distinct memory from back then must have been from when I was 17.

I never excelled at the most commonly known ninja skills: I was quite clumsy, and not the strongest boy either. But I had a talent for the theory aspect: give me a poison, I could name it in a snap. I knew every weapon, every secret. I just couldn’t put it into practice all I had learned from reading.

Honoka was my polar opposite. Tall, thin, and athletic: too bad she was a bit vacuous. She might have been able to leap into the air, disarm an opponent, sneak without a sound: that is, unless she was around her friends. She had become known at the school for her garrulous nature.

During our practical lessons one morning, sensei Satomi was observing a spar between Honoka and I. Supercilious as he was, he made sure to correct any faults in stance or method right away. Most of those faults were mine. But for once, I was holding my own with Honoka: remembering a technique I had read about in a text earlier, I reached down and flipped her leg over, landing her in the dust.

Satomi ran up to us with a disconcerted expression on his face. “What are you doing boy? That wasn't a proper move! You could have seriously injured Honoka!”

I was perfectly aware that I wouldn’t, but there’s no way for me to express that to the sensei. He was steadfast in his opinions: I would do it his way, or no way at all.

This led to the first and only punishment I ever received at school: as the building was built into the side of a mountain on the coast, there were lots of passages and cells throughout the rock. I was sent down to tidy some of the less travelled corridors. Honoka was told to join me as well, for “giving in so spectacularly.”

Whilst the two of us toiled within the rock, there was a sudden reverberation throughout the mountain- and then another. Looking up to the surface, we shared a quick glance and then rushed up the passage.

Right as we left the hallway and ran out into the open air, there was a great roar from behind us. “Arrrrrr! What be these younguns?” I turned around to see a florid face with a ginger beard grinning down at me. Slowly averting my eyes from his crazed grin, I looked down and took in the rest of his corpulent body.

“Who… who are you?” Honoka asked hesitantly. Chortling menacingly, he replied: “I be the famous Roubeard, scourge of the seas! And we be here for your luvverly ninja treasures, arr!”

We didn't have any treasure in our school- obviously. Ninjas are known for being stealthy and living light: excesses were not to be found easily on the mountain. Pirates, ignorant as they are, wouldn't know that though. They must have lost all their gold and jewels in their prodigal adventures.

“Now look here!” a punctilious voice announces from behind us. “You’ve no place here, scum of the seas. Leave us in peace you heathens!” Glancing back, I saw Satomi rushing at Roubeard with a pair of nunchaku. It seemed as if he was guaranteed to win: he was the head sensei of the school, after all, and very talented.

But what was this? Why was he stopping? He was just standing there! He wasn’t… he bowed. Leave it to Satomi to follow proper etiquette when there are barbaric sailors all around.

Two of said barbarians jumped from behind him and grabbed his arms. If he wasn’t so punctilious, he probably could have defeated every man on the ship.

The ship, actually, was doing far more damage than the men on it. The pirates had set up a cannon along the starboard side, and it was shooting continuous cannon balls at the school. That must have been the vibration that Honoka and I felt down in the caverns. Thinking quickly, I made a dash for it and pulled her along with me.

“Where are we going?” she yelled at my back. “Down to the storage closets!” I shouted over my shoulder. Grabbing the door handle and pulling it open, I snatched up a fukiya and a handful of darts. The fukiya is one of the classic ninja weapons: a small tube- these ones were made of bamboo- that could shoot small darts with lungpower. On my way out, I grabbed a bag of shuriken as well: those small metal disc that have been popularized as throwing weapons.

Instead of turning around and going back the way we came, I pulled Honoka down farther into the tunnels. When she asked where we were going, I told her that I knew a secret path down through the mountain that opened on the side of the cliff: I figured we would be safer and less noticeable there. I had old texts to thank for my knowledge of the secret passages: reading comes in handy once again.

We could see sunlight at the end of the corridor. If we looked to the left, we could see the side of the ship and the cannon still shooting. I handed one of the fukiyas to Honoka and told her to aim for the marksman. Being skilled as she was, she hit him first shot. He slapped at his neck and slumped to the side. Finally, the cannon had stopped shooting out fire every few minutes.

Now that the gunman was down, there were only a few pirates left on the ship that hadn’t yet invaded the school. Honoka and I leapt off the rock and into the water 10 metres below. I swam closer to the shore, climbing up onto the rocks and keeping a safe hold on the shuriken.

As per my spur of the moment plan, Honoka dove under the water and worked her way nearer the ship. From my seat on the rocks I had a good view of her attempt: reaching up to the rough wood on the ship’s hull, she pulled herself out of the water and climbed onto the deck. Finding the few pirates left and disarming them quickly, she was soon the only person left capable on the ship.

And now it got interesting: At the top of her lungs, she shouted at the pirates on shore: “Hey mateys! See all this beautiful treasure? Be a shame if it fell overboard, wouldn’t it?” She began tossing jewels and coins into the water below.

With a great roar, the mob of buccaneers ran for their precious cargo, Roubeard waddling in the lead. Honoka slowly made her way back towards the edge of the deck. As she watched the last pirate jump onto the ship, she shouted “Now!” and leapt off the edge. At her call, I launched the shuriken repeatedly into the hull of the ship directly underneath the cannon, where I figured the gunpowder would be. After the fourth, I finally got the result I was hoping for: a great fireball shot out through the hull and the ship began to sink. Mission accomplished.

Honoka swam back on shore and picked me up on the way. She reached out her arms and pulled me into a hug- taking down a pirate mob together is a pretty good way to bond with people. From that day on, I had some respect at school. And Honoka eventually did help me out with some of the more complicated moves- in exchange for some tutoring.

Taped-together converse, Arthur Miller, and Tituba.

Part 1: Written between 10 and 11 o'clock AM.

Hm. Well, out of my boredom, I'm going to blog again. These posts are going to become frequent for me now, methinks.

I think I'm going to try a random thought process. Might help introduce myself further, show how I tick.

I'm looking out the window onto upper middle. Summerschool English. It is 10:03 on July 19th. There are thick clouds outside; white at the top, and getting gradually darker as they near the bottom. Look like rain clouds. They're too far away though, there is no rain here.

Now I have a song stuck in my head. All We Want by Elias. Catchy. 


We just took a note, and in those 20 minutes, the clouds have advanced past the school and there's actually a patch of blue sky. 
 
And now, more clouds. Bah. 

Hey look, a FedEx truck. My friend told me that between the E and the x, there's an arrow created. It's true. But he Also told me that every time I see a FedEx truck, I will see the arrow. That is false. I may remember the comment, but I don't see the arrow. 
Nuther note, gimme a minute.

Tituba. That's a strange name. So many ways to mock it. Perhaps the most entertaining is the word 'tuba'. 
I am now going to imagine her carrying one throughout the rest of the book. It should make this godforsaken script more interesting. 

My friends did that last year with Lord of the Flies. They replaced 'conch' with 'boner'. 
"Ralph cradled the boner." 
"Ralph blew gently into the boner."
"I know what that is. It's a boner. My aunt had one."

You get the idea. 

Oh, I just remembered. I duct taped my old converse together. One of them was torn and completely destroyed. I almost wore them today, but I found out a lace was missing. I'll post a pic later maybe.

Oh!! We just got our Gatsby essays back. 85!! Considering I put little effort in, I am satisfied. 





PART 2: Took place between 4:00 and 8:30 PM, and was written at 9:20 PM





I just took the converse out for a walk, and they didn't really last long. Mind you, I walked for 4 hours, over rocky terrain. oh how I enjoy the train tracks. They're great fun. You gotta watch out for trains, mind you, but there are some great pics to be taken. Great graffiti,nice plants, and, oh, did I mention the many animal corpses, rotting in the middle of the tracks? No? there's probably a reason for that.
Most commonly, these cadavers are raccoons, mice, and birds (Today we found a curled up seagull and a fully intact, newly deceased little bird. I have pictures). There are ponds and highways nearby, too, and also abandoned buildings.

Or so we thought they were abandoned. The gate was open (we should have clued in), and so we walked inside. As we neared the building, I saw two guys in work uniforms (one looked a lot like Mario from that failed Super Mario movie). "Oh, shit. There are people here." I said absent-mindedly, to which my friend simply replied, "Fuck it." (I apologize for the vulgar langauge, but it does apply well to this situation), after which we just sort of turned around and booked it down the train tracks, laughing as we went.

As we went back at our secret entrance to the tracks, I saw something red sticking out of the bushes. A license plate. From a trailer. It's red and really coo-ool.
I'll post the pictures on Facebook for those of you who have me on there. Beware the graphic content, dead animals and whatnot.

Well, I now have an interior monologue to write, so thanks for listening. Or reading... Whatever. 

Until next time, damn you Arthur Miller.

Kthxbai.

~V

"This prayer is called The Balance"

^ I've heard that for five school days in a row now... I'm starting to think the summerschool principal has alzheimers.

Anyways, I forgot to introduce myself last time. How rude of me. In truth, I figured that everyone who reads this will most likely know me already.

Alternative. That's me in one word. Everything that doesn't fit in anywhere else. Especially in music; it's the one thing I couldn't live without. Oh, my name's Pavel, by the way. I'm a bit unfocused today. Once again forgot my name.

Man I'm bad at this.
Well, I have nothing more to say right now.
See ya.

By the way, I use this at the bottom of mt posts:

~V

Arson Is Suspected

That poor guy... He seems to get blamed for all the fires.
Hello, reader(s). since I'm bored, I like to rant, and I'm impatient, I've started writing this. It's a nice outlet I guess. You can say pretty much anything, and no one really listens. But it's out there.
Like Jack, I'm doing summerschool. Just got through The Great Gatsby and an essay pertaining it. I actually kinda liked it, I have to admit. The kid who sits beside me hated every second, and I think it was his pessimism that gave me the inspiration to enjoy it. Thanks, Cameron.

Hm. So much to say but nothing at the same time.
Jack, how do you do this?? it's fun and all, but you need a topic really.

I suppose I'll get used to it. Oh, my class is starting to read The Crucible tomorrow. /not interested/ Somehow the topic of witches in the middle ages isn't appealing to me. Unless they're Carrionites and The Doctor's involved. In this case, John Proctor yadda yadda yadda witches, blah blah blah, people die, the end.
Honestly, I would have rathered Othello. Shakespeare is an absolute genius - THE absolute genius. I didn't like Romeo and Juliet though. Bit of a cliche by now. Hamlet sounds good, though I haven't had time to read.

Well I'm done for tonight.
So long, bloggers.

Self imposed guilt

Hey nano. Do you want me to write on you more? most people (can I call you a person?) don't like being written on, but considering that it's sort of your life goal I think you'd be ok with it.

I really would, it's just that i can't think of anything to say! I'm sure that I'm not alone in saying that I far prefer people who post every week or so with really good entries that make me laugh, cry, and think. Those crazies who post every single day with a 100 word entry? Get them off my list. I do not need to know that you're drinking orange juice for the 4th day in a row.

On orange juice; I can't drink it right now. Not that I want to. I don't even like it. But I have a persistent cankersore that will not leave me alone, and acid angers it. Imagine the incredible hulk, but instead of a green giant it's little and red and PAINFUL. I would be drinking milk with its wondrous non-acidic qualities, but there is none in my house. Which is why the mother has gone out shopping for groceries, hence my being alone and blasting ALL CAPS. I'm feeling pretty good. Oh, and I finished my essay too! Pretty content right now, not gonna lie.

This was my mandatory post. Hope you enjoyed it. I doubt you laughed, unless you're just a really weird person who laughs at non funny things. Maybe this will help?

I'm at summer school right now, prepare for onslaughts of CRAZINESSSSSSSSSSSSs

Hey loyal reader(s). I'm just going to inundate you with lots and lots and lots of references to my summer school class. If you're not in it (i.e. Kiah and Sasha) then you will have no idea what's going on. I'm sorry. I haven't updated in a week and this is the best I can come up with right now.

I could tell you about my eye first though! I got sand in it while I was wearing my contacts and it was all ARGHANUBGB ANGER so then I had to flush it. That hurts. You wouldn't think that splashing water into your eye would hurt like hell, but you'd be mistaken. So right now I am wearing my old glasses because contacts would be a very bad idea right now. I wish I had a picture of my bloodshot-goodness, but it's not red at all right now. Stupid quickly healing body, stealing all my blog material.

Essentially, class discussions about The Great Gatsby consist of remarks that question the character's sexuality, discussions about intent and whether or not Nick is even remotely sane, and agreements that Tom is, indeed, a complete asshole.

It's been a combination of vulgar tweets and hilarious collaborations and overall: a very good use of everyone's time.

Also, creepy little girls make everything better.

Noella is done blogging now because my keyboard fills her with righteous anger. Righteous of what, I question? Righteous of proper large keyboard size? As if, noella.

WANT

Murder, she twote.

And I would have as well; anyone who twote as the past tense of tweet (in the twitter sense) is completely deserving of a good stab or two.

So, internet, I've given in. I got a twitter. I know, shocking, and you probably want to hit me with something blunt. Or perhaps something not blunt? the pen may be mightier than the sword, but no one got famous for pulling a pen out of a stone. Which brings to mind why the sword was in the stone in the first place- that's always been far more interesting to me.

Anyways. Yes, I got a twitter, but I have an excuse. I was actually wanting to get an account for a while, but always put it off. However, my summer school teacher (read my last post for more on that) is very big on the use of technology in the classroom. he started a ning, he encourages us to bring laptops and other devices to class, and he is sending out twitter updates to the class- I had to get an account. It was required for my education. See what a good story that makes? Now whenever someone asks I have a great little tale to spin for them.

If you're interested, you can find me on twitter here. I warn you that this is only my second day on the website, and I update ferociously often. If you don't want to get annoyed every ten minutes, I would not recommend adding me to your mobile updates. but do as you please.

/whoring

There was lots in the first couple paragraphs here that I wanted to talk about, actually. First of all, the past tense of tweet is definitely twote.

"He has tweeted lots of stuff in the past." <- hardly.

"He has twote lots of stuff in the past." <- isn't that much better? And the whole sword/stone/pen/mighty debacle. First of all, well done arthur on removing the sword and becoming king, blah blah blah. (Speaking of kings, check this out. Great song, great video) But I personally want to know who put the sword in that bloody stone in the first place! If you can jam a blade into a rock, and somehow do it with enough

strength/magic that only one man- boy, really- can get it out, you've got way more talents than some little Anglo=Saxon boy ever did.

And yes, the pen is mightier than the sword. That made sense when people still used pens: of course, the sword was the first to appear. And yes, it did cause its fair share of violence and havoc. When people started using the written word as a way of defending or fighting for their rights, this phrase made perfect sense. But the keyboard is mightier still than the pen. Analog paper and ink is good and all, but if you can type something and put it on the internet (much like I'm doing now) then you've got way more of a chance getting your message out than some guy writing into the papers. That's all I'm saying.

And now, nano, I leave you. I've got one more Discworld novel to finish (has anyone read Terry pratchett? Satirical fantasy, british 1970s? Great stuff, really quite fantastic) and then I think I'll play some Pokemon soul silver. I am fully aware of how nerdy this paragraph was, and so I shall leave you with the words of one of my new favourite bloggers.

Summer Education

I know. You read that title and the first thing you think is "nerd." Despite the fact that nerds are awesome, and that's not even close to an insult, I feel like some corrections are in order. This gets misunderstood far too much.

There are generally 3 circumstances that involve going to school in the summer. It's either

A) stupid tool who failed a class and has to retake it to succeed <- not me.

B) Student who did poorly and takes the 2 week upgrade to boost their mark up in a class <- also not me.

C) Student who takes a higher level class to get ahead <- me.

Alright, of those three the latter is definitely the most nerdy. But I assure you that my intentions are far from scholarly. You see, I'm taking grade 12 english this summer because I took grade 11 english last summer.

English, in summer school, at the school I went to is what many would refer to as "slack." Very little work was done, a good portion of the time was spent goofing off, and yet I managed a 94 in that class. Imagine my shock when my friends taking grade 11 english in actual school write essays and do analyses and tests and all sorts of nonsense- always under the guise of "preparing for 12 english."

I am supremely confident that if grade 12 english is much the same as grade 11, there is no way I would be able to get above an 80, if only because I haven't done any of the preparation necessary. The only way to keep up my average would be to, again, take english over the summer. I really don't like english classes, and getting it out of the way seems like a good idea.

Of course there are drawbacks-

i) if I want to go to university, shouldn't I be prepared? It's not like I can do "summer school university english." I've yet to do much essay writing or other literature studies, so it's entirely possible that come uni I will crash.

ii) I have to give up my july of freedom. /SADFACE

And yet, I get to take another course next year- or a spare, perhaps. But I doubt it will be a spare because I just have way too many courses to take. And, all the friends I made last year at summer school are again taking it this year; if we are in the same class, needless to say I will be very very happy.

:. pros > cons. It's proven by math!