Dodge

By: Goo
Written: 5/25/04

Dodge my watermelon seeds.

Did you dodge them?

The Assassination

By: Ben
Written: 5/25/05

The young king was afraid. His advisors had discovered a plot to kill him. Worse, the assassin was the notorious Shakka the Half-Dragon, a criminal wanted in half of the world. The assassination was supposed to occur in two days, when the king was to give an audience to the public in honor of the Feast of Logic. The king had become very worried, but finally decided on a plan.

“I shall hire an assassin to protect me from an assassin,” he said to himself, thinking himself clever.

“Guards!” he called and his 15 personal bodyguards came running. “I wish to hire an assassin. Which of the inns in town would I be most likely to find a good one in?”

The guards led him to a disreputable part of the castle town, to a pub called Royalty’s Demise. The king saw the name and at first panicked, but, surrounded by his guards, he felt that he could not possibly be in danger.

In the pub, he asked the bartender, “Is there an assassin here?”

The bartender, who reeked of old cheese, looked at the king strangely, but pointed toward the back corner, where a man cloaked in a dark robe sat. None of his features were visible except for his right hand that held his mug of ale. The king sat down across the grainy table from him. The thought of the cloaked man’s eyes watching him from beneath the robe frightened him.

“What do you want?” the man said in a low voice like a lizard’s growl.

“I need you to assist me,” said the king, trying to overcome his fear of talking to an unknown man. “Can you kill someone for me?”

“Maybe,” came the reply.

The king growing bolder, said, “I need you to kill Shakka the Half-Dragon when he comes after me on the Feast of Logic. I will pay you 100,000 gold coins and provide you with a sniper rifle for your services.”

“It seems we have a deal,” the mercenary said, his hand reaching to shake the king’s.

Two days later, the king was to give his speech. Even with the assassin he had hired to give him protection, he was still afraid that Shakka might kill him. So he crept from his chamber to his courtyard, watching every shadowy side corridor with suspicion and fear. Finally, he reached the pulpit above the courtyard. He could see his assassin, still cloaked, on a far wall, peering at the gathering crowd through the scope of his rifle for the unmistakable reptilian features of a half-dragon. The guards at the gate were making all the people coming through the gate remove their headgear to see if they had scales. The timid king began to speak to the crowd, gaining confidence as he spoke.

After several hours of speaking and answering requests, the king saw the sniper suddenly become alert, appearing to track something. The king’s fear of Shakka came back. He ran to the edge of the pulpit and looked down. The sniper rifle fired—BAM—and the king felt the bullet enter his chest. The sniper he had hired had shot him. He looked toward the battlement where the sniper stood. The recoil of the gun had knocked off his hood, revealing the reptilian features of a half-dragon. The king fell back, tasting salty blood in his mouth, realizing that, in his own paranoia, he had given his enemy the opportunity to kill him. Then he died.

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Levis Mound

Written: 5/22/05
By: Goo

Yesterday, I went mountainboarding out at Levis Mound. Levis is a big mountain bike/cross country skiing/hiking place... and it has some absolutely killer single track. Single track has to be one of my favorite things ever to do on a mountainboard. I just love it.

But, yesterday was different, because it was the first time I have ever gone there without my mother coming with me... which was nice.

It was also the first time I have ever really gone mountainboarding with a group of friends. I brought both of my mountainboards, and one of my friends brought his digital camera which takes much better quality vid’s than my cam... but back on topic.

So yeah... we headed out. I decided to show them all my favorite places to ride. We went up to Porky Point first, and took some video of me riding off a 4 ft. cliff. Then we took a break. We took a lot of breaks, between filming and watching other people ride. And then, I decided to ride this like wooden bridge thing that some mountainbikers had set up so the wouldn’t have to ride up/down this big section of rocks (wussy bikers). So that was pretty sweet, took some vids of that.

Then, I we took some video of my riding down the rocks that the mountainbikers are too wussy to ride. (Ha!) That was pretty awesome. That whole section probably has a vertical drop of about 10 feet over the space of about 10 ft. or so, so basically it was like riding down a big rock pile. Also, there’s a tree growing right above these rocks, and its as if all of the roots growing over the rocks are holding them to the hillside, as a natural erosion preventative. That added a little more in the technicality department.

Next, we went over to North Face, one of the best downhill single tracks. Its long, with several very different sections in it. It also has a rock garden section rather like the one on Porky Point, only easier. We hung out there and rode for a while.

Then, we headed over to my newest favorite singletrack, Corkscrew. Corkscrew is just basically switchbacks all the way down. The top section is riddle with roots, and a 2 ft. drop off, then to a left hand turn/switchback. Then, there’s a straight section with a big rock in the middle, creating a mandatory ollie. Next, right hand hairpin turn, perfect to powerslide through to shed speed (if you ride goofy foot like me.) Now, the best thing to do is to cut off the next switchback and go cross country down to the trail and continue. Next obstacle, a stump in the middle of the trail. If you’re going slow, you could probably ride over it. But if you have ridden the top section about perfect, you should be screaming right now. After the stump, the trail continues straight, or you have the choice to turn sharp left and take a less used trail through the woods that is a bit longer than the right path, and much more brushy.

Then, we hiked back up Corkscrew, rode North Face again, and hiked to the best downhill cross country ski hill, Jack Rabbit Draw. There, I tried to give some turning and powersliding pointers to my friends, but the powersliding didn’t go over so well.

The only good mountainboarding place that we didn’t go was to Pile Driver. Never descended by a mountainboarder, Pile Driver is probably one of the longest downhill sections of any single track at Levis Mound that I know of, and its one of the most technical too. Once upon a time, their was a horse race held that went up and down pile driver, and all the dirt got pushed off of it. Since that time, it has become one big erosion ditch. The bottom is completely covered in sandstone boulders, with barely any dirt/sand at all. Over the middle of the bottom section, there’s a huge log lying... with about 2 1/2 feet of clearance below it, maybe enough to squeak through. I have hiked Pile Driver before, and for me to even feel partially comfortable, I’d have to assemble a brake for my board. The moutainbikers rarely ride it, if ever. It is the king of gnarly, guaranteeing death to any bomber. But, I know I will have to conquer it eventually, first with a brake... and then without one. Once I have done that, nothing will pose a threat.

So, that’s my day at Levis... pretty much an overview of Levis Mound, but that's OK.

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Passion ::Old Randomer::

Passion.

By: Goo
Written: 5/16/05

The complexities of life are as myriad as the multifaceted shape of a diamond. As intricate and disconcerting as the most convoluted highway interchange that you have ever seen. Modern life and culture are as twisted and rotten as an apple core, thrown out of the window of a passing car, sitting upon the shoulder of the road as forgotten as the waste you flushed down the toilet yesterday.

But, the complexities and confusion and general dirtiness of life are swept aside by an outside force. That outside force is a passion. An occupation. Something that is loved by the individual. Something that is enjoyable to that person, or something that a person cares very deeply about. Everything else flows about that passion. If something does not work, then the passion will thrust its way through the tide of time consuming and troubling worries of life, and make itself known. Life will begin to flow around it, the passion will take hold. Sometimes, it comes as if by accident. Other times, the person will have to reach out for the passion, grab its hand, and push back against the wall of time-wasting infidels. Then, the passion will have the utmost place in this person’s life.

If not the utmost, it will be in a place, a specific place that is directly linked to its worthiness to the being. If he or she deems it worthy, it will take the top point of power and control in that person’s life. If he deems the passion not quite that worthy, but still worthy of being a priority, but not above that of other passions such as a relationship, it will get pushed further down the scale to a place suitable of its worthiness. It all depends upon the amount of value a person places in the passion. The place it is allotted will determine the impact it will have on one’s life.

But, if a person is bereft of a love of anything, they will wander through life utterly destitute, lacking direction of any kind. They will be as a dandelion seed, tossed upon the wind, going as it fancies, never knowing the location of its destination. But, unlike the dandelion, carefree upon the wind, he will be like a boat lost at sea in the storm of all storms, with no way to steer, no sense of direction, completely at the mercy of the savage winds and the enormous, crashing waves. He will live a turbulent, twisted life. A life without meaning. A life built around misery and anguish. If he lives at all.

Is it even possible to live without a passion, or a love for something? For anything? How can it be that if you have nothing to drive you, you persist in life, continuing to work and live. I think that you need to search deeper. There is something driving every single person, however honorable that fuel is, there is something driving everyone. When people commit suicide, its as if a chunk has been cut out of the fuel line of purpose and they have lost their passion to DO. Their passion, or fuel to live. What they don’t realize is that they must give that fuel line time to heal. They must come back to whatever is driving them, however honorable it is, or find another passion. Another driving force for which to live for.

For many people, the driving force is immensely different. For one, it may be a sport. For another, love. For another, sex. For another, God. For yet another, money. For others, fame. For others, enjoyment. Possibly, getting wasted. Music is an immense driving force. Friendship. All things such as these drive people, and some are less honorable then others.

But of course, that depends on one’s perspective. And perspective, is a whole other matter.

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Passion :: Old Randomer

Passion.

By: Goo
Written: 5/16/05

The complexities of life are as myriad as the multifaceted shape of a diamond. As intricate and disconcerting as the most convoluted highway interchange that you have ever seen. Modern life and culture are as twisted and rotten as an apple core, thrown out of the window of a passing car, sitting upon the shoulder of the road as forgotten as the waste you flushed down the toilet yesterday.

But, the complexities and confusion and general dirtiness of life are swept aside by an outside force. That outside force is a passion. An occupation. Something that is loved by the individual. Something that is enjoyable to that person, or something that a person cares very deeply about. Everything else flows about that passion. If something does not work, then the passion will thrust its way through the tide of time consuming and troubling worries of life, and make itself known. Life will begin to flow around it, the passion will take hold. Sometimes, it comes as if by accident. Other times, the person will have to reach out for the passion, grab its hand, and push back against the wall of time-wasting infidels. Then, the passion will have the utmost place in this person’s life.

If not the utmost, it will be in a place, a specific place that is directly linked to its worthiness to the being. If he or she deems it worthy, it will take the top point of power and control in that person’s life. If he deems the passion not quite that worthy, but still worthy of being a priority, but not above that of other passions such as a relationship, it will get pushed further down the scale to a place suitable of its worthiness. It all depends upon the amount of value a person places in the passion. The place it is allotted will determine the impact it will have on one’s life.

But, if a person is bereft of a love of anything, they will wander through life utterly destitute, lacking direction of any kind. They will be as a dandelion seed, tossed upon the wind, going as it fancies, never knowing the location of its destination. But, unlike the dandelion, carefree upon the wind, he will be like a boat lost at sea in the storm of all storms, with no way to steer, no sense of direction, completely at the mercy of the savage winds and the enormous, crashing waves. He will live a turbulent, twisted life. A life without meaning. A life built around misery and anguish. If he lives at all.

Is it even possible to live without a passion, or a love for something? For anything? How can it be that if you have nothing to drive you, you persist in life, continuing to work and live. I think that you need to search deeper. There is something driving every single person, however honorable that fuel is, there is something driving everyone. When people commit suicide, its as if a chunk has been cut out of the fuel line of purpose and they have lost their passion to DO. Their passion, or fuel to live. What they don’t realize is that they must give that fuel line time to heal. They must come back to whatever is driving them, however honorable it is, or find another passion. Another driving force for which to live for.

For many people, the driving force is immensely different. For one, it may be a sport. For another, love. For another, sex. For another, God. For yet another, money. For others, fame. For others, enjoyment. Possibly, getting wasted. Music is an immense driving force. Friendship. All things such as these drive people, and some are less honorable then others.

But of course, that depends on one’s perspective. And perspective, is a whole other matter.

My Backpack Needs a Blinker

By: Goo

Written: 5/12/05

I’ll be walking down the halls of my high school, and I’ll come up beside someone who’s going slow. Really really slow, I mean, I just saw a slug pass her on the right she’s going so slow. I’ll look for a gap in the flow of people, and I’ll attempt to dart toward it, but I have to make sure to check oncoming traffic and cross traffic... it almost seems as if we all need to install blinkers on our backpacks so we can signal our intentions

(Signal our intentions... we should all wear light bulb sign things on our heads, and when some guy spots the hot chick going down the hall, his light bulb would go on and a little thing would say “My place, tonight?” I think it would make for a good laugh between classes, and in the classroom. Bored during a lecture? Your little head thing would go, “_____, this guy’s boring!” It’d be kinda like Inspector Gadget....” We could also paint lines down the hall, have separate lanes of traffic to help reduce collisions. In fact, they might as well give us all some of those handicapped electric wheelychair things. We could build the desktop right into it, so we wouldn’t need desks anymore....

Then, the hall monitors could run around with their sirens on their wheelychairs, pulling over students who are speeding. You would hear a “Weeeee....” and be like, “Ha! Caleb got pulled over for speeding again. He’ll probably get suspended.”

Now you’re thinking, “Electric wheelychairs, lame!” But, some of those wheelychairs have tires that are a whole ton beefier than the tires on my mountainboard! Some of those things would be awesome for offroading. ATV’s are entirely overrated, electric wheelchair for me!

Do you need a blinker too?

High School English Squelches the Creativity of its Students

Goo
5/6/05

I think high school English class (at least through the tenth grade) squelches the creativity of its students by focusing too much on the rules and not enough on the innovative thinking and creativity section of writing.

Instead of worrying about speling and punc.tuation and parenthetical notation (Me, Page 777) the teachers should worry more about conveying the idea that writing should be fun, that it’s about expressing your ideas in a way that other people can understand. It shouldn’t be about getting everything just so, it should be about learning how to be creative and inventive.

Sometimes I can definitely lack in that department, but at other times I get an A+. I think writing should be about conveying what you think, or sometimes about accurately presenting a specific event, or information about a certain topic. I believe that writing is about presenting your thoughts, feelings, and emotions in a way that other people can understand. Sometimes it’s through a story. Other times, it isn’t.

Regardless, English teachers such as Mr. Woracheck shouldn’t worry so much about the rules. They/he shouldn’t regard them as the be-all-and-end-all of life. Screw the rules. Be a rebel for once in your life. Why does everything always have to be the same? Answer: It Doesn’t!

End Rant.

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