chris’ blog

There is not questiont that we have come a long way in terms of racism since the mid nineteen hundreds.  I think that racism has not, however, been demolished,  but broken down and then kicked under the rug.  I think that now it is not socially acceptable to say that you think of another race differently than your own, but that many people still do.  I also know that although I recognize that it is wrong, when I see a person of another race their race is one of the first things I notice.  Be this in a good or bad light,  it is still something that needs to change.  Although there is no official racism any more, it still exists and the ultimate goal is for skin color not to be even noticed when meeting a new person

My earliest memory of school would have to be back in elementary school, about second or third grade, when we were playing a game in gym that was supposed to make us appreciate how hard life is for blind people.  At least that’s what I take from it.  Now I was partnered with a kid named John, and I won’t put his last name.  Anyway,  the idea was that one of you put on a blindfold and the other would say to keep going, or turn, or stop so that they didn’t run into anything.  Let’s just say I guess I didn’t understand that last part to well.   After i had gone through my turn being blind without anything worth mention,  it was time for him to be the disabled one.  I started him out slow, telling him accurate, conservative directions so he didn’t run into anything.  Understandably, I got bored of this after a while.  Now I’m not so sure about this part, but I guess something just loosened up a bit in that demented little messed up head of my second grade self, and told me it would be funny if I told John to run.  In the direction of the brick wall.  Thinking he had wide open space in front of him.  The space was not wide open.  It was not funny.   But in all fairness, how was I supposed to know that that wall was stronger than his fragile little second grade tooth?  Hey, it coulda happened to anybody!  But alas, it did not happen to anybody.  It happened to me.  And more specifically it happened to John.   So the day ended with both our tears, and John getting a fake piece on his tooth that still remains to this day.

Being a kid, to me, is the most important part of life.  You can relax, spend time with your friends, expirience things for the first time, good or bad.  It is a travesty that many kids around the world don’t experience this.   They live a militant life, and the worst part is that it isn’t even by their choice.  They are dragged off at young ages to serve for a rebel group or the army.  But it doesn’t matter which one.  Either way they are missing the best, most exciting, fun part of their lives.  Unfortunately, I do not think that there is anything to be done about this issue.

It was in the middle of the Lebanon game.   I was playing only one position, kick return, and one of my best friends on the team was deep on kick return.  For two returns in a row,  I had missed my assignment,  the fourth man from the right blowing straight by.  Upset with myself I went to apologize to my friend the return man, because each time if I had got my block he would have scored.  We came up with the agreement that if I would hit my block, he would score.  Next time Lebanon scored, we took to the field for kick return.  I lined up on my spot on the front line and picked out the fourth man.  He was the same person I should have blocked for the whole game.  He was of reasonable size,  probably thirty pounds heavier than me and three inches taller.  I wasn’t scared.  I knew that I could take him, and there was no way I was letting down my friend.  I spotted up and nailed him, driving him back at least five yards and holding it for a good ten seconds, plenty of time for our returner to break through the last line of defense, and score.

When  I was born, my family was happy where they were.  For a few years.  After about nine years, our expanding family needed a bigger house, much in the same way that an Indian tribe might move for more land, or more plentiful food.  We have now lived in the second house for ten years without any more moving, because it perfectly fits our needs.  Just like a thriving Indian nation, who’s surrounding land has provided them with the sustenance that they need to survive, our schools, house, and friends have all been great since we moved.

SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOLIER ALERT-WEEEEEWOOOOO WEEEEWOOOOWEEEWOOOOO     we are reading the book the giver in our launguage arts class.  In the book the community has decided to go to sameness, so they dont see colour and they dont feel strong feelings like love or hate.  they all wear the same boring clothes, and they dont have choices in anything that they do.  Jonas, once he discovers colour, realizes that the choice to got to sameness was wrong.  He sees, however, that there are some benefits.  such as throughout the whole book, not one child gets made fun of,  at the end of the ceremony where they give out jobs,  every child is happy.   since the members of the community have never expirienced anything other than colour, they are content.  i, however, dont think that this is anyway to live life.  if i was in their situation i would rather not live than live in a neutral,  feelingless bubble.

1. the last think i remember.  336-andrew klavan-this book was a very quick read, but.. wait, no spoilers.

2. zombie bitts from uranus.  257-andy griffiths-the title says it all.

3. lord loss. 224-darren shan-this was a very good book, and even more gory.

4. heir apparent. 315-vivian vande velde-this book had a brilliant idea behind it, and the writing backed it up.

I started a trend in my class at school, and now everyone has been trying to (whistle with your fingers).  Just now, i figured out how, and it is just as loud as everyone says.

step 1-  take the pointer finger and the middle finger of each hand and touch the middle fingers together at an acute angle.

step 2-  put your tongue halfway back in your mouth, and put your fingers on the tip, pressing very hard.

step 3-  blow-it is exactly how you would blow out b-day candles, if they were on your belly button.

have fun-and if your in my class, don’t tell our teachers that i taught you how.

p.s. -it took me two days of practice, so don’t give up.

this is the beginning of a story-

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Horses

Horses are the most over advertised animals of all time. If a little girl was asked what sort of backpack she wants, a smart one would say that she wanted one with lots of pockets, maximized storage space and comfortable straps that would not stress her shoulders. A more naive little girl would say, “I want a backpack with pink ponies!”

The father of the first one would say, “Sure, and than you can have some free ice cream, for acting so mature.” The father of the second one would not say anything, because hopefully a girl that wants a pink pony backpack would be shopping with her mom.

I also commonly wonder when it was that horses began being born in colors like purple, pink, and yellow. And why they are cherished because of their tragic skin conditions. It is also interesting how only the rich little girls actually obtain a real horse, while the middle class ones only stay at home, watching tattered old rental movies of dramatic romance stories between the main character, and some creep that her parents disapprove of. Meanwhile, the horse avoids tragic injury and then carries off the giggling newlyweds.

There are, however, some people who make good use of horses. Such as the many glue companies, and your occasional resourceful roadside burger stand. So I think that they should make little pink backpacks featuring hoof less, dead horses. Now that I would buy.

Well, this is my variation of one of those above mentioned horse stories. Don,t worry, it has a happy ending.

♘

One day there was a spoiled rotten little wretch of a child. She loved horses. She owned her own horse, named Fluffy. Fluffy was a horrible old horse. The kind that would frolic, bounce joyfully when ridden, who had such fancy, high quality horseshoes that that they made his hooves soft, and no good for glue. He would never kick the little beast of a girl, and instead would rub his head affectionately on her dress whenever she would walk near. She loved the horse more than her parents. More even, than she loved her parent’s large amounts of money. This little girl, who I will call Jill, had a neighbor named Ed. Ed hated the horse. He was a vengeful person, who hated to even set eyes on a color other than brown, gray, or black. Also the occasional dark shade of purple, as he knew, doesn’t hurt anyone. As you can tell, he was a very enjoyable person to be around. Of course, he hated Fluffy. Hated him with a passion.

The little girl, who had been named Bittsy (Rich people are not the best at choosing names), was totally oblivious to the fact that he detested her and her horse so, would ride Fluffy over her family’s perfectly manicured lawn and on to the rough dirt of his austere dump of a yard. She would ride over to the opposite side of the double wide, tap three times on his window, and wait, imagining a wonderful romance in which he would cram himself on the back of Fluffy and they would ride off, hopefully, she always observed, not scuffing Fluffy’s treasured horseshoes. It was odd the way that she always forgot his reaction from the last time. He would open the window, scream a mixed genre of profanities out at her, pause a second to hock up all the unwanted snot from the back of his throat, and discharge it violently in her face. I don’t understand how she managed to forget this every day, but it consistently slipped her mind.

♘

One day as Bittsy was making her way home sobbing away all of Ed’s snot, Fluffy fell straight away beneath her. As her hair flew up like a thick, curly, umbrella, she observed the colors around her changing. From a dull gray shade, to a swirl of rainbow pictures on the wall. Had Ed been there, he probably would have puked. Funny I should mention him now, as Bittsy looked up just in time to ad one more of Ed’s bodily fluids to her face. Obviously a result of the vibrant colors of the murals on the wall.

Fluffy and Bittsy were jarred violently when they landed in a childish looking (And unfortunately smelling) pit of brightly colored plastic balls. They simultaneously looked at each other, and stayed that way, seemingly frozen, while they slowly sunk down toward the bottom. Only once they felt free space around their legs (hooves) did they begin to believe that they were not, in fact, going to have to be sitting in heaven, looking down on all the people cackling, looking at the obits, reading about the silly child and her horse who died by drowning in a ball pit.

♘

Ed did not feel the slightest twang of guilt as he snuck along behind the bonded duo of horse and girl. He was very quiet while meandering through the forest, for whenever he hunted animals by hand, he was on foot. He was, thought genuinely surprised when his feet fell out beneath him.

When he dropped from the ball pit, he was almost sick again, as he saw the seemingly never ending rolling hills, the gurgling streams, and, most importantly, the happy little ponies frolicking through the meadows. He felt slightly consoled, however, when a giant pig arose, and began to rumble toward him. He was greatly relived, because even though the boar was, on all fours, a good two foot taller than himself, it was very fat, and a brown color; and he had thought that it had been left by an even bigger creature. As soon as he saw it he realized that it would be impossible to mount it standing up, so he walked up to it and kicked it’s front knee, causing it to jolt forward, onto the ground. He was not good at first impressions.

♘