Sean, I had a Kid. I gots me a a little Sun shine. My mother raised me right. I don't run from real responsibility. I imagined my women having an abortion, when I was psychotic, coming down off drugs. You knew me then remember. I Imagined her killing my kid, and thinking I'd have a lot more in common with one of my best friends. Except she didn't do that. I didn't really want that, because I was bigger then that. I was not raised to be weak, and follow. I followed you for a reason, you'll understand it one day. If anything fate brought us together because we needed each other. SOunds like you still need me a bit. Well I'm available for comment, and I don't delete. You know you should read the rest of the blog. Throughout the entire thing there is posts about you.
They are spread out, so you might have to buckle down and do some reading, but it might open your mind a bit. Kiss my brother out there on the End of the World.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Check it out, Thats what happense with the Grace of a three letter word
What did I learn in school this semester. Well, #1 Drugs and alcohol are a common reason for failure. I noticed that now as a mature student that I was much more focused. School is not really all that important to me. Actually, the only part of school that I like is, well, the people. I love movin and shakin around a campus. Talking up a storm and socializing. This semester I was lucky enough to create a business that gave me part time work. It's been growing steadily and my income is growing. And I love what I'm doing. I also love Psychology. No not studying it, using it. Seeing it. School is about jumping through hopes. Social ques that the corporations around us require for...I don't know. For them to appear a better looking monster (the corporations that hire us Graduates). I have a kid I have to jump through the hoops. Concordias religion class was fun. My teacher was someone who knew why she was teaching the class. It had nothing to do with becoming a Christian it was about us. The students, to see what that type of faith is about. I, like most religious individuals, look at life and analyze it using metaphores. There are people out there that put it together like a puzzle. I'm done putting the pieces of the puzzle together, I live my life seeing the big picture. The puzzles already put together, now I just get to be happy bout it. I learned that I'm on the right track this semester. I learned that there are haters out there, but that's because they are stuck on the piece of the puzzle, that one piece, that's all it is. I learned that I keep finding it over and over again without anyone but myself. Oh and of course a great conversation with an Incredible Profesore.
oh and Karen please watch this
oh and Karen please watch this
Friday, November 20, 2009
My almost sacrafice
(Personal Reflection) Think of a time you stood up for something you believed in. What were you willing to risk? What was the outcome?
Thinking of a time I stood up for myself. Growing up, coming from a broken home was awful on my self-esteem. I was always trying to fit in after that. Throughout my life I moved around the world with my single mother. I lived in several different country's and cultures. I remember in Saudi, I was fifteen, I attended Sais-r Saudi Arabian international American school Riyadh. I remember how much different I was from all the other kids. I was the only kid in a school of a couple thousand that lived with a single mother. I'm really not sure what she did to get me into the country but she got prince Abdullah Bin Abdul Aziz to sign my visa. I was the only western child who lived without a father in Riyadh. I came from a tougher background, because I was fifteen and coming from Edmonton I had already been exposed to lots of things like drugs and alcohol. Then showing up in one of the worlds best private schools, I was different. The peer pressure was to do well in school, not to smoke the weed, or to get drunk and have sex. I wasn't the very best student. One thing that separated me from the others was that I had long hair. I was the only boy in the entire school with hair down to his shoulders. I loved it but I was often told that the culture there does not accept it and I should cut it. Well, that wasn't happening. I was of course a hard core Cobainist. lol. I only spent one year going to SAISA-R. After the 9th grade all Western children have to leave the country to finish their education. Most of the kids ended up moving to Switzerland and getting hooked on drugs because there were never exposed to anything aversive in Saudi. It was an artificial situation. Rich kids getting good grades, never really being exposed to actual Western cultural diversities. I remember sitting on the bleachers, actually I slept on the bleachers during the ressess. The main reason being, because my mother was a women who got me into the country without a man (Husband) I was to be kept on a workers compound. Saudi is built on social class. Saudies being on top and then American workers, then Canadian and British people, so on and so forth until you get to the working class. My home compound was called K3. It was on the out skirt of the dessert that surrounded Ryhad. My mother was forced to live there because the other women and western people were not suppose to see a single women raising her child on the western Compounds. I spent 16 months on that compound. I slept on the bleacher because I had to take 3 buses to school. My journey to school began at 5:45 am every morning. I woke up to the Prayer call. At my buss stop I would often watch my bus driver finish his morning prayer and I would start my day moving to school. By lunch I was exhausted. The school was tough. I went almost every day. Again because my mother was a women the king fahd national guard hospital would not pay the enormous bill the school sent home once a month. I think it was like 13 thousand American dollars a year. Not bad. Any man (who made more because of his sex) would also have the tuition paid by the Hospital, but my mom paid. Looking back she made some enormous sacrifices to have me there with her. So I slept on the bleachers almost everyday. I was a a renegade, I went to school with kids that were really naive to the real world that they were going to be put in. I remember how unhappy I thought I was at the time. I blamed my mother. I was such a blind little fuck, but I did sacrifice my old lifestyle to expose myself to a new culture. Well by the end of the year I was a stress case. I had transitioned from a rebellious little kid who never got good grades into an honor student who hated living in Saudi. Looking back on that time puts a smile on my face. I appreciate the sacrifices my mother made and the risks I took. Both me and my mother grew. Honestly if it was not for my mom who had to deal with a 15 year old boy who was trapped on a Filipino compound in the middle of nowhere, I would have gone back home, probably to fail school and end up like all the other kids who are only exposed to the same old same old. Now with the way the world is turning Im happy to have lived in the middle east. Im happy I was exposed and forced to deal with cultural differences in a way that no one else was. I was one of the most unique prospectives on the world as we know it that Im actually aware of. Its always hard having that knowledge that I have,and the prospective that I have because know I have to sacrifice myself my offering information that often is not typical in western cultures. I have that knowledge though, and I know the truth in my mind. Living in Saudi was one of the best experiences of my life.
Thinking of a time I stood up for myself. Growing up, coming from a broken home was awful on my self-esteem. I was always trying to fit in after that. Throughout my life I moved around the world with my single mother. I lived in several different country's and cultures. I remember in Saudi, I was fifteen, I attended Sais-r Saudi Arabian international American school Riyadh. I remember how much different I was from all the other kids. I was the only kid in a school of a couple thousand that lived with a single mother. I'm really not sure what she did to get me into the country but she got prince Abdullah Bin Abdul Aziz to sign my visa. I was the only western child who lived without a father in Riyadh. I came from a tougher background, because I was fifteen and coming from Edmonton I had already been exposed to lots of things like drugs and alcohol. Then showing up in one of the worlds best private schools, I was different. The peer pressure was to do well in school, not to smoke the weed, or to get drunk and have sex. I wasn't the very best student. One thing that separated me from the others was that I had long hair. I was the only boy in the entire school with hair down to his shoulders. I loved it but I was often told that the culture there does not accept it and I should cut it. Well, that wasn't happening. I was of course a hard core Cobainist. lol. I only spent one year going to SAISA-R. After the 9th grade all Western children have to leave the country to finish their education. Most of the kids ended up moving to Switzerland and getting hooked on drugs because there were never exposed to anything aversive in Saudi. It was an artificial situation. Rich kids getting good grades, never really being exposed to actual Western cultural diversities. I remember sitting on the bleachers, actually I slept on the bleachers during the ressess. The main reason being, because my mother was a women who got me into the country without a man (Husband) I was to be kept on a workers compound. Saudi is built on social class. Saudies being on top and then American workers, then Canadian and British people, so on and so forth until you get to the working class. My home compound was called K3. It was on the out skirt of the dessert that surrounded Ryhad. My mother was forced to live there because the other women and western people were not suppose to see a single women raising her child on the western Compounds. I spent 16 months on that compound. I slept on the bleacher because I had to take 3 buses to school. My journey to school began at 5:45 am every morning. I woke up to the Prayer call. At my buss stop I would often watch my bus driver finish his morning prayer and I would start my day moving to school. By lunch I was exhausted. The school was tough. I went almost every day. Again because my mother was a women the king fahd national guard hospital would not pay the enormous bill the school sent home once a month. I think it was like 13 thousand American dollars a year. Not bad. Any man (who made more because of his sex) would also have the tuition paid by the Hospital, but my mom paid. Looking back she made some enormous sacrifices to have me there with her. So I slept on the bleachers almost everyday. I was a a renegade, I went to school with kids that were really naive to the real world that they were going to be put in. I remember how unhappy I thought I was at the time. I blamed my mother. I was such a blind little fuck, but I did sacrifice my old lifestyle to expose myself to a new culture. Well by the end of the year I was a stress case. I had transitioned from a rebellious little kid who never got good grades into an honor student who hated living in Saudi. Looking back on that time puts a smile on my face. I appreciate the sacrifices my mother made and the risks I took. Both me and my mother grew. Honestly if it was not for my mom who had to deal with a 15 year old boy who was trapped on a Filipino compound in the middle of nowhere, I would have gone back home, probably to fail school and end up like all the other kids who are only exposed to the same old same old. Now with the way the world is turning Im happy to have lived in the middle east. Im happy I was exposed and forced to deal with cultural differences in a way that no one else was. I was one of the most unique prospectives on the world as we know it that Im actually aware of. Its always hard having that knowledge that I have,and the prospective that I have because know I have to sacrifice myself my offering information that often is not typical in western cultures. I have that knowledge though, and I know the truth in my mind. Living in Saudi was one of the best experiences of my life.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I can recongnize it too
I see that everywhere
Genesis 3
The assignment is to recognize religion outside of its typical context. I personally see religion everywhere. I live and breath God these days. My life is going so well. I have so much to do I can't actually do it all, at least that's what I think. Until I just give up and do the best I can and put my trust in God. God isn't Jesus to me. I'm Jesus to me. To me Jesus was a man that could make others understand that they are themselves "God". Understanding that there is more to life then what’s visible, tangible, believable. Jesus it that to me. I recognize that if you look around us there is no way in hell that we would have such a great world to live in. I recognize that because God teaches us through our lives. That is if we can keep our minds open.
The other day I was up working my ass off trying to get my school work finished and my photos uploaded. After counting all the dates I did photo shoots I realized I was working my ass off for a very small sum of money. I got discouraged because the whole time I've been working I had this feeling like I was on the right path. That feeling comes from my inside. That feeling has nothing to do with money, but it has to do with my happiness. God wants me to be happy right? Well then why was I not making enough cash to feel comfortable as a father that contributes enough to his child's life. I was upset, but literally in that instant, the minute my thoughts were going astray I received a phone call, "Is this Itsyourphoto?" a voice with a unique accent asked on the other line, I said "yes". Then the voice asked "do you do head shots?" I said "yes". I got work the instant I asked for it. Now it might have been coincidence but I think God knows what I'm doing. I think he knows I'm trying to follow my own path that was created for me by him or her whatever. Yeah it's just a coincidence right. Well that picture is being published as a poster. That does it for me "thanks God".
Now I have another story, when I started driving the cab I lived in Banff, I was a drug addict and I loved to want to die (I thought). Well I drove hundred of fares in Banff. Many became regulars. Lots of the locals (really just transients living in Banff for the fun of it) liked to call me up special because I was one of the best drivers in the universe. Well one used me as an Alibi. On a Saturday morning I was called up by a RCMP officer who asked if he could come talk to me about a ride I was reported to have given. Right away I knew that whoever said I drove them, lied. I wasn't working that night. I asked the RCMP officer who it was, Matt ....... I knew the guy, I asked him what he was accused of. The officer took a deep breath and said "break and enter and Rape." I gasped. I remember the kid vividly, he was from St. Albert, we actually talked several times about people we grew up with.(I was raised in ST. Albert.) Well I thought that sucked, the rape was talked about all around town, I guess the women was severely beaten and was also very traumatized. Scary! Well my girlfriend got pregnant a few weeks later and I moved back to Edmonton and became a cabby here. I cleaned up my act to be a father. I was ridding the streets in a different state of mind. I was not just a neutral force in the world I was a good guy. I was here to raise a sun. Two months into the Edmonton taxi career I had a flag, 107 ave and 115st. Bad hood. Lots of hookers, but I was still new. I was still very open minded about all people. I had just sobered up, I was a fearless good guy who believed in God. Well I pulled over for the two. They both got in, I could smell the prostitute. I could smell pimp and crack head too. I let them in and asked "where to?" the greasy women said "turn around." I looked back at the two and recognized Matt. the guy who used me as an Alibi. I found him before anyone else. I found a rapist with a prostitute high on drugs in the worst neighbourhood in the city. That was God showing me how powerful he is, how he can cross my path with whatever he wants. The rapist recognized me, the two got out of the taxi. I was still new at the good guy game and I did not do anything about what had happened. The reason I believe it happened was because that's how God shows himself to people. (Intimate knowledge of good and evil) He answers our questions, he shows us who we are as long as we are open. Recognizing religion is really about recognizing when God is exposing himself to you. If your lucky you'll get to understand what's happening, if not it's because he doesn't want you too. I believe in God. I believe I believe in God just like Jesus did. I love my neighbours. I follow my heart and move in the direction I believe to be righteous and good. God is everything.
The reason I wanted to start a blog in the first place was to talk about what I was seeing on the streets of Edmonton. I often found myself in situation that I never expected to be in. I found myself exposed to situation that almost non of the people my age who lived in the same city as me had ever been exposed to. I did this looking for answers. I started writing about my life as a taxi cab driver because I was willing to dive into the real heart of my city. I had faith in a higher power that I could really dive in without fear.
I remember my first night as a blogger, it was slow. I was so excited to have a medium to write about my adventures and non were happening. I was just driving around guzzling up gas. The whole night was almost over and my heart never skipped a beat. It sucked. I was already thinking about what I wanted to say. I was talking smack to the allmighty for not offering me anything good. I got a call after that, not far from the shopping complex off of 170th and Stony plain Rd. It was a 19 year old kid, he wanted a prostitute. I had done that kind of thing before. I had a method. If they wanted a girl they would have to get out of the car to solicit her. He found a 54year old women outside of the 711. She was able to service the young gentlemen in the back seat in about the time it took to drive three or four blocks. The situation overwhelmed me. I was asking God for adventure and that's what I got. Now the most interesting part of the story is that after was all said and done the prostitute needed a ride back to the 711. I drove her back. I asked her questions, I probed for answers. I found out she had 3 kids, and that she was just addicted to crack. We stopped at a red light. I was in shock from the ordeal, but it was a situation I created. I exposed my self to it. I asked God to put me there. I was obviously there to record that event in my blog. Now here is when fate jumps in, kind of the grace of God. It involved the radio. "lake of fire" by Nirvana started playing, the main lyrics in the choros of "lake of fire" are "Where do bad folks go when they die, they don't got to heaven where the angels fly they go to a lake of fire and fry." The song relaxed me. I started singing it to the women sitting behind me. She was a prostitute and I was looking for a good story. The words to one of my favorite songs did nothing for her. The moment I looked back at her singing those lyrics she jumped out of my car and into the back seat of the blue car beside me. The car had been following us the whole time. They were all bad folks to me. They were all already dead. They couldn't even hear the words to the song. That song reminds me of that moment, it reminds me that those people are not to be judged by me but by someone else, something else. A figure that not only has the power to judge them but bring them back to life. And that can be anyone, anytime. I see religion everywhere.
I also have a close relationship with good and evil, it’s a relationship I created. It’s a relationship that can be fixed. Just remember to love the person next to you, because something out there is always watching us, eating those tasty fruits of the forbidden tree.
check out the movie
Genesis 3
The assignment is to recognize religion outside of its typical context. I personally see religion everywhere. I live and breath God these days. My life is going so well. I have so much to do I can't actually do it all, at least that's what I think. Until I just give up and do the best I can and put my trust in God. God isn't Jesus to me. I'm Jesus to me. To me Jesus was a man that could make others understand that they are themselves "God". Understanding that there is more to life then what’s visible, tangible, believable. Jesus it that to me. I recognize that if you look around us there is no way in hell that we would have such a great world to live in. I recognize that because God teaches us through our lives. That is if we can keep our minds open.
The other day I was up working my ass off trying to get my school work finished and my photos uploaded. After counting all the dates I did photo shoots I realized I was working my ass off for a very small sum of money. I got discouraged because the whole time I've been working I had this feeling like I was on the right path. That feeling comes from my inside. That feeling has nothing to do with money, but it has to do with my happiness. God wants me to be happy right? Well then why was I not making enough cash to feel comfortable as a father that contributes enough to his child's life. I was upset, but literally in that instant, the minute my thoughts were going astray I received a phone call, "Is this Itsyourphoto?" a voice with a unique accent asked on the other line, I said "yes". Then the voice asked "do you do head shots?" I said "yes". I got work the instant I asked for it. Now it might have been coincidence but I think God knows what I'm doing. I think he knows I'm trying to follow my own path that was created for me by him or her whatever. Yeah it's just a coincidence right. Well that picture is being published as a poster. That does it for me "thanks God".
Now I have another story, when I started driving the cab I lived in Banff, I was a drug addict and I loved to want to die (I thought). Well I drove hundred of fares in Banff. Many became regulars. Lots of the locals (really just transients living in Banff for the fun of it) liked to call me up special because I was one of the best drivers in the universe. Well one used me as an Alibi. On a Saturday morning I was called up by a RCMP officer who asked if he could come talk to me about a ride I was reported to have given. Right away I knew that whoever said I drove them, lied. I wasn't working that night. I asked the RCMP officer who it was, Matt ....... I knew the guy, I asked him what he was accused of. The officer took a deep breath and said "break and enter and Rape." I gasped. I remember the kid vividly, he was from St. Albert, we actually talked several times about people we grew up with.(I was raised in ST. Albert.) Well I thought that sucked, the rape was talked about all around town, I guess the women was severely beaten and was also very traumatized. Scary! Well my girlfriend got pregnant a few weeks later and I moved back to Edmonton and became a cabby here. I cleaned up my act to be a father. I was ridding the streets in a different state of mind. I was not just a neutral force in the world I was a good guy. I was here to raise a sun. Two months into the Edmonton taxi career I had a flag, 107 ave and 115st. Bad hood. Lots of hookers, but I was still new. I was still very open minded about all people. I had just sobered up, I was a fearless good guy who believed in God. Well I pulled over for the two. They both got in, I could smell the prostitute. I could smell pimp and crack head too. I let them in and asked "where to?" the greasy women said "turn around." I looked back at the two and recognized Matt. the guy who used me as an Alibi. I found him before anyone else. I found a rapist with a prostitute high on drugs in the worst neighbourhood in the city. That was God showing me how powerful he is, how he can cross my path with whatever he wants. The rapist recognized me, the two got out of the taxi. I was still new at the good guy game and I did not do anything about what had happened. The reason I believe it happened was because that's how God shows himself to people. (Intimate knowledge of good and evil) He answers our questions, he shows us who we are as long as we are open. Recognizing religion is really about recognizing when God is exposing himself to you. If your lucky you'll get to understand what's happening, if not it's because he doesn't want you too. I believe in God. I believe I believe in God just like Jesus did. I love my neighbours. I follow my heart and move in the direction I believe to be righteous and good. God is everything.
The reason I wanted to start a blog in the first place was to talk about what I was seeing on the streets of Edmonton. I often found myself in situation that I never expected to be in. I found myself exposed to situation that almost non of the people my age who lived in the same city as me had ever been exposed to. I did this looking for answers. I started writing about my life as a taxi cab driver because I was willing to dive into the real heart of my city. I had faith in a higher power that I could really dive in without fear.
I remember my first night as a blogger, it was slow. I was so excited to have a medium to write about my adventures and non were happening. I was just driving around guzzling up gas. The whole night was almost over and my heart never skipped a beat. It sucked. I was already thinking about what I wanted to say. I was talking smack to the allmighty for not offering me anything good. I got a call after that, not far from the shopping complex off of 170th and Stony plain Rd. It was a 19 year old kid, he wanted a prostitute. I had done that kind of thing before. I had a method. If they wanted a girl they would have to get out of the car to solicit her. He found a 54year old women outside of the 711. She was able to service the young gentlemen in the back seat in about the time it took to drive three or four blocks. The situation overwhelmed me. I was asking God for adventure and that's what I got. Now the most interesting part of the story is that after was all said and done the prostitute needed a ride back to the 711. I drove her back. I asked her questions, I probed for answers. I found out she had 3 kids, and that she was just addicted to crack. We stopped at a red light. I was in shock from the ordeal, but it was a situation I created. I exposed my self to it. I asked God to put me there. I was obviously there to record that event in my blog. Now here is when fate jumps in, kind of the grace of God. It involved the radio. "lake of fire" by Nirvana started playing, the main lyrics in the choros of "lake of fire" are "Where do bad folks go when they die, they don't got to heaven where the angels fly they go to a lake of fire and fry." The song relaxed me. I started singing it to the women sitting behind me. She was a prostitute and I was looking for a good story. The words to one of my favorite songs did nothing for her. The moment I looked back at her singing those lyrics she jumped out of my car and into the back seat of the blue car beside me. The car had been following us the whole time. They were all bad folks to me. They were all already dead. They couldn't even hear the words to the song. That song reminds me of that moment, it reminds me that those people are not to be judged by me but by someone else, something else. A figure that not only has the power to judge them but bring them back to life. And that can be anyone, anytime. I see religion everywhere.
I also have a close relationship with good and evil, it’s a relationship I created. It’s a relationship that can be fixed. Just remember to love the person next to you, because something out there is always watching us, eating those tasty fruits of the forbidden tree.
check out the movie
Friday, October 23, 2009
I kept the book for some reason
These day's I make my own hope. I cling to my idea of freedom and happiness. I hope that the path I've chosen is the correct one because I have devoted myself to it. I focus my life on my own hope. The hope that I know in my heart is mine and mine alone. Others try to give me hope but that's just not the way for me to actually achieve whatever I'm hoping for. God gives me hope, but God is a part of me. Gods will for me is mine and that gives me hope that I'm on the right path. In 2005 after the drugs lead me to the psych ward I was given a little book of hope. The women that gave it to me was a person who had a few years on me. She was a sever case of borderline personality. She was often found wondering the streets looking to get high. Looking back I'm sure she was a prostitute. She was in the psych ward. I remember telling her my drug of choice (Dexedrine) a potent pharmaceutical stimulant. She knew the drug. She talked about how she used to use it with her boyfriend. She told me that he has a big prescription too. Well anyway one afternoon while I was doing my craft assignment she came up to me and handed me a book "A little book of hope". I talked a lot about about God and Jesus when I was high. She must have sensed that, because the book is about become a Christian. I read that tiny little book and the last thing it did was give me hope. I wasn't allowed out side, Hope was the last thing that I possessed. I was truly dead at that point in my life. The doctors threw me out of the hospital when their treatment was found to be futile for me. I just was not willing to trade one powerful prescription drug (that I loved) for another one. The new drugs they insisted I take where mood stabilizers. Tegratol, Lithium, that kind of stuff. The type of drug that makes you settle for hope you don't even really like. The type of drug that makes you sit down and eat. The type of drug, that to me, killed my hopes and dreams. They kicked me out and diagnosed me as anti social. Funny, I got thrown in the dungeon for being in a severe drug induced psychosis and within a week everything was different.
How do I get my hope, where can I find it. I find hope in every step I take in my direction. When I see my Sun is living, and growing happily I know my hope is taking me in the right direction. The other day I was putting my Sun to bed with me and he found this little book it was called "A little book of Hope.' We read it together as his bed time story.
How do I get my hope, where can I find it. I find hope in every step I take in my direction. When I see my Sun is living, and growing happily I know my hope is taking me in the right direction. The other day I was putting my Sun to bed with me and he found this little book it was called "A little book of Hope.' We read it together as his bed time story.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Suck it!
The writing seems to be taking a step back since I started school. i failed a soccer exam today. Rough, that just threw my grade point average out the door. The test wasn't hard. my terminology was just off. Instead of swerve kick its a swivel. Whatever Nevermind. I love that class and I always try my damnedest to play hard and have fun. I failed for whatever reason. School has been rocking. I have been falling for it for sure. Faculty are great, I even have a few teachers who like me. I also Have a few who don't understand me. That's life AI guess. Its probably one of the better parts of it. Diversity! I was plagiarized a while back. The Joyce essay, yep some person straight up stole the whole thing. They changed it up but the quotes had spelling mistakes, the other essay had the same quotes and the same mistakes. I don't think the person who stole the piece realized I was a student in the same class. The teacher asked me into her office. She was upset that because of the offense she had to do lots of extra work ensuring that I did not plagiarize either. The best part of this story is, right before we were suppose to hand in the essay I read this girls introduction paragraph. It looked like mine. I was even overheard saying "wow that sounds just like mine." I thought I was just a typical thinker. Because of that I thought my ideas weren't unique. When the teacher called me in to review the situation she mentioned that the ideas presented by me were unique. That put a smile on my face. The person being looked at for plagiarism probably thinks I ratted her out. That's not the case. The teacher saw the work was stolen. I'm not sure if the plagiarist is in any real trouble, but I hope she is. Just because she's a thief. She seems to be telling the rest of class mates that she was falsely accused. Yeah right! I hope she comes back to my blog to read this post. "the only reason I know who you are is because you let me read my introduction in your essay. I don't think you knew that you stole from me. It was an idiotic move. I hope you stay in school, but I hope you've learned your lesson. I have nothing to be ashamed of, you do."
Friday, October 16, 2009
Screw your hero!
I do have a hero. Growing up in suburban St.Albert was a great time in my life. I had it all, a big house, my family, friends and all the amenities that are part of a normal North American upbringing. Unfortunately on my 12Th birthday I was smacked in the face with reality. My mother left my father. She took me and my older brother out of our home and moved us out to the low income neighbourhood in St. Albert. We lived in a massive apartment complex. Not what I was used too. It happened on my birthday so the separation had a tremendous impact on my view of life and how thing seem to work out. I remember listening to the bare naked ladies as a child growing up in the house my father built. I remember singing songs like "If I had a million dollars" and thinking what I would do with that million bucks.
After the separation my life changed and life wasn't filled with the same happiness it was before. I got jaded and I remember looking for answers. This was about a year after Kurt Cobain killed himself. His music was still very much a part of main stream society. Before moving to the massive housing complex I was never exposed to cable TV, but after the separation Much music became a part of my existence. I lived for it. It was the 90's. Cobain was dead but his influence seemed to have stayed. The man was my hero and he blew his head off before I even knew who he was.
Curt Cobain was an addict. He shot heroin and did drugs. Unfortunately being so heavily influenced by him I desensitized myself to those types of things. I moved in the direction of substance abuse. On my 22ND birthday I decided to actually move forward and try to do what I wanted. I totally started to indulge in indulgences I wanted to. Just like i decided to love Nirvana when I was twelve. I was devoted to living my life like a punk start who just doesn't care, because that's what I actually wanted.
I found myself on prescription drugs locked up in a psych ward in Calgary a year later. I had dropped out of university of Wisconsin Green Bay and traveled to Florida and then all the way up to Banff where my car broke down. I tried to get my prescription refilled but the doctor had told me I was psychotic and needed help. I was trapped in a hospital against my will and still I was a devout Cobainist. I remember when I got out of the hospital what I wanted. The doctors took my drugs away and really forced me to look for different way to satisfy my needs. My girlfriend was with me at the time of release. She got pregnant.
Since then I realized what a coward Kurt Cobain was. He had a child, and for whatever reason he committed himself to an escape lifestyle, which is OK but he had a daughter and he abounded her. Even though I idolized the king of grunge I just could not abandon my child. I wasn't ready for what was coming but almost t immediately changed who I was. My child was a way out of the broken home. The best thing I learned from Kurt Cobain was to follow my heart to the death if I have to. Now I know my heart lies with my child. He is my new hero. Now my favorite part about growing up addicted to Nirvana is that I can rip a solid punk riff on my guitar.
After the separation my life changed and life wasn't filled with the same happiness it was before. I got jaded and I remember looking for answers. This was about a year after Kurt Cobain killed himself. His music was still very much a part of main stream society. Before moving to the massive housing complex I was never exposed to cable TV, but after the separation Much music became a part of my existence. I lived for it. It was the 90's. Cobain was dead but his influence seemed to have stayed. The man was my hero and he blew his head off before I even knew who he was.
Curt Cobain was an addict. He shot heroin and did drugs. Unfortunately being so heavily influenced by him I desensitized myself to those types of things. I moved in the direction of substance abuse. On my 22ND birthday I decided to actually move forward and try to do what I wanted. I totally started to indulge in indulgences I wanted to. Just like i decided to love Nirvana when I was twelve. I was devoted to living my life like a punk start who just doesn't care, because that's what I actually wanted.
I found myself on prescription drugs locked up in a psych ward in Calgary a year later. I had dropped out of university of Wisconsin Green Bay and traveled to Florida and then all the way up to Banff where my car broke down. I tried to get my prescription refilled but the doctor had told me I was psychotic and needed help. I was trapped in a hospital against my will and still I was a devout Cobainist. I remember when I got out of the hospital what I wanted. The doctors took my drugs away and really forced me to look for different way to satisfy my needs. My girlfriend was with me at the time of release. She got pregnant.
Since then I realized what a coward Kurt Cobain was. He had a child, and for whatever reason he committed himself to an escape lifestyle, which is OK but he had a daughter and he abounded her. Even though I idolized the king of grunge I just could not abandon my child. I wasn't ready for what was coming but almost t immediately changed who I was. My child was a way out of the broken home. The best thing I learned from Kurt Cobain was to follow my heart to the death if I have to. Now I know my heart lies with my child. He is my new hero. Now my favorite part about growing up addicted to Nirvana is that I can rip a solid punk riff on my guitar.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Joyce isangry because Joyce Knows Love
James Joyce uses geographic, religious, and political metaphors to draw the reader through his dark perception of Ireland’s true reality. Ireland specific geographical position plays a role in the manner in which Joyce presents the story of "Araby". Religious undertones are used bring to light negative ideas that imply that the Catholic Church is losing its stronghold over the religious Irish people. Political ideals disguised by the immature nature of the main character help Joyce sculpt a dark and dreary picture of Ireland in its current state of nationalistic leadership. The author carefully takes the reader into the world of his innocence and describes how his perception of clarity turns day into night.
Joyce uses the house at the end of his street to portray the country of Ireland. It's a symbol, a representation of Ireland. "An uninhabited house of two stories stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours." (Joyce 1000). Ireland is found on the western coast of Europe, detached, isolated from the rest of the continent. Ireland is pushed up against the Atlantic ocean, a country removed from its peers, a global dead end. An island who's citizens have been split into two different religions, layering society like the two stories of the house. The reformers called the English Protestants, and the Irish Catholics. Joyce uses dark imagery to define not only the house on the dead end (Ireland) but all of Europe. "The other houses of the street, conscious of decent within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces." (Joyce 1000). This type of imagery can be construed as anti-Irish.
Joyce sees religion as the force that had possessed Ireland, but has died. Leaving Ireland a vacant run down house, open to exploration, and exploitation. "The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back."(Joyce 1000). This leaves the children of the neighbourhood as the new possessors of the home. The narrorator inherits the house in an illegitimate way. Joyce connects the main character to the house, giving us the impression that the child is the new heart of Ireland. An illegitimate heart, that is still too young to understand what it holds. The narrator’s experiences and their outcomes define what the narrator feels. The narrator is Ireland in the story, now that the old priest has died. The boy uses the house, the room which the priest died in to express his desires. " I went into the back drawing room in which the priest had died ... pressed my hands together until they trembled, murmuring O love! O love! many times. (Joyce 1001). The narrorator has a longing to be accepted and to be loved . Organized religion is set on the backburner to love in the story. This would have been viewed as anti Catholic meaning anti Irish.
The main character is exposed to a certain view on life politically. "We walked through the flaring streets....the nasal chanting of the singers who sang a come-all-you about O'Donovan Rossa or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. The noises converged in a single sensation of life for me." (Joyce 1001). Joyce is implying that the new keepers of Ireland (keepers of the house at the end of the street) primary outlook on life was a sensation of revolution. In other words instability and chaos were prevalent giving the impression that Ireland is on shaky ground. This could also be interpreted as anti-Irish.
Ireland is a house on a dead end road. The old Catholic soul that had been taking care of it has died. A young boy has replaced the Catholic priest as the head of the house, but the boy isn't ready. He inherited the house illegitimately. The boy’s goal is to be accepted, and to love. Joyce finished the story, "Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derived by vanity and my eyes burned with anguish and anger" (Joyce 1004), leaving the reader with the impression that Joyce feels Ireland is an immature child with high hopes that are destined to fail. "Araby" was written by Joyce to show the audience, the masses how he felt about the nation from which he came. Although he may have ultimately had loyalty towards his native land, his distain for Catholicism and the political, religious and socioeconomic status of Ireland is clearly evident in much of his work. "Araby" is no exception to this, even as it looks at alternate themes of love, innocence, and his character's epiphany of the futility of his idealism. This might have been seen as anti Irish.
Works Cited:
Joyce, J. “Araby”. The Harbrace Anthology of Literature 4th ed. Ed. Jon C.
Stott, Raymond E. Jones, and Rick Bowers. Toronto: Thomson
Nelson, 2006. 1000-1004.
Joyce uses the house at the end of his street to portray the country of Ireland. It's a symbol, a representation of Ireland. "An uninhabited house of two stories stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours." (Joyce 1000). Ireland is found on the western coast of Europe, detached, isolated from the rest of the continent. Ireland is pushed up against the Atlantic ocean, a country removed from its peers, a global dead end. An island who's citizens have been split into two different religions, layering society like the two stories of the house. The reformers called the English Protestants, and the Irish Catholics. Joyce uses dark imagery to define not only the house on the dead end (Ireland) but all of Europe. "The other houses of the street, conscious of decent within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces." (Joyce 1000). This type of imagery can be construed as anti-Irish.
Joyce sees religion as the force that had possessed Ireland, but has died. Leaving Ireland a vacant run down house, open to exploration, and exploitation. "The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back."(Joyce 1000). This leaves the children of the neighbourhood as the new possessors of the home. The narrorator inherits the house in an illegitimate way. Joyce connects the main character to the house, giving us the impression that the child is the new heart of Ireland. An illegitimate heart, that is still too young to understand what it holds. The narrator’s experiences and their outcomes define what the narrator feels. The narrator is Ireland in the story, now that the old priest has died. The boy uses the house, the room which the priest died in to express his desires. " I went into the back drawing room in which the priest had died ... pressed my hands together until they trembled, murmuring O love! O love! many times. (Joyce 1001). The narrorator has a longing to be accepted and to be loved . Organized religion is set on the backburner to love in the story. This would have been viewed as anti Catholic meaning anti Irish.
The main character is exposed to a certain view on life politically. "We walked through the flaring streets....the nasal chanting of the singers who sang a come-all-you about O'Donovan Rossa or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. The noises converged in a single sensation of life for me." (Joyce 1001). Joyce is implying that the new keepers of Ireland (keepers of the house at the end of the street) primary outlook on life was a sensation of revolution. In other words instability and chaos were prevalent giving the impression that Ireland is on shaky ground. This could also be interpreted as anti-Irish.
Ireland is a house on a dead end road. The old Catholic soul that had been taking care of it has died. A young boy has replaced the Catholic priest as the head of the house, but the boy isn't ready. He inherited the house illegitimately. The boy’s goal is to be accepted, and to love. Joyce finished the story, "Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derived by vanity and my eyes burned with anguish and anger" (Joyce 1004), leaving the reader with the impression that Joyce feels Ireland is an immature child with high hopes that are destined to fail. "Araby" was written by Joyce to show the audience, the masses how he felt about the nation from which he came. Although he may have ultimately had loyalty towards his native land, his distain for Catholicism and the political, religious and socioeconomic status of Ireland is clearly evident in much of his work. "Araby" is no exception to this, even as it looks at alternate themes of love, innocence, and his character's epiphany of the futility of his idealism. This might have been seen as anti Irish.
Works Cited:
Joyce, J. “Araby”. The Harbrace Anthology of Literature 4th ed. Ed. Jon C.
Stott, Raymond E. Jones, and Rick Bowers. Toronto: Thomson
Nelson, 2006. 1000-1004.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Covenant talk
Israel can be defined by a few thing, there's Jacob, then the is the nation, and there are the Israelis. Why does the nation of Israel need a covenant? Well because the people of Israel believe in the God of Abraham, they understand all the relationships between God the earth and people were broken. To live life without constant fear of death God needed to create a relationship with is folk, one that would allow them to live life with order. The ten commandments are the basics to living in any community. At the time of the Exodus the Israelis needed a promise from god that he wouldn't kill them for breaking rules. So God allowed them a sacrifice. More or less a nice Goat or some grain for the poor people. This system allowed most people to live in somewhat of a harmony with God and the people around them. Except the rich abused this sacrifice stuff, but God sees through that. He doesn't send these rich abusers of sacrifice to hell though, God that is. Because Hell hasn't been invented yet, but its coming I can feel it.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
doesn't always suck.
Why Life Sucks
Life starts to suck in Geniuses 3. The serpent, the cheat, the spineless little twister of words, convinces Eve to eat the apple from the tree of knowledge. The fruit screws her up, bad. Then she hooks up Adam, the fruit mess's the two up, bad. After eating the fruit they feel guilt, and fear, the basics to true knowledge of good and evil. A little vanity maybe.
The Enuma Elish is the Babylonian creation myth. Its all about how people are rotten bags of dirt sent here to slave for the Gods. Who I bet had a bunch of rich king friends. We were made of a Chaos monster and blood. Life is crappy. This myth totally goes with today. But there is no way out. there is no reason for living in this myth. Humans have knowledge, our intimate knowledge with life is pushing us to grow. Humans are reaching for God. Humans are innately sinful, bad, naughty, whatever. They are also good. Life doesn't always suck.
Life starts to suck in Geniuses 3. The serpent, the cheat, the spineless little twister of words, convinces Eve to eat the apple from the tree of knowledge. The fruit screws her up, bad. Then she hooks up Adam, the fruit mess's the two up, bad. After eating the fruit they feel guilt, and fear, the basics to true knowledge of good and evil. A little vanity maybe.
The Enuma Elish is the Babylonian creation myth. Its all about how people are rotten bags of dirt sent here to slave for the Gods. Who I bet had a bunch of rich king friends. We were made of a Chaos monster and blood. Life is crappy. This myth totally goes with today. But there is no way out. there is no reason for living in this myth. Humans have knowledge, our intimate knowledge with life is pushing us to grow. Humans are reaching for God. Humans are innately sinful, bad, naughty, whatever. They are also good. Life doesn't always suck.
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