My Favorite Mistake Essay

Posted on by Standard 3

“Come on!” I thought. My brother’s car needed some serious repair, so we were working on it. The axle needed a lot of help. “Let’s go eat some lunch,” my brother said. I put down the quart of oil, and followed him inside.

I left the house, feeling much more full, and I was greeted by my blondish dog, who looked very happy in a… mischievous way. I rubbed her head a little, and I noticed that her forelegs and chest were a different color. Darker. More brown than blonde. I knelt down and felt them. They were slick, oily. I looked over at the driveway, the car — the quart of oil. It was on its side, with its cap chewed off. Oil was everywhere. Droplets had been flung across the entire driveway,and the surrounding area. I stood still. My heart couldn’t decide to start pounding at its full strength, or to stop altogether. “Oh no…” I mouthed to myself. Making a halfhearted effort to put a positive spin on it. There was nothing positive about this. My head lowered. My stomach sank. What have I done?

We went inside, told my mom (I’ve never seen eyes bulge so much), and spent the next hour scrubbing and hosing the dog (outside). At the end of that hour, nothing had changed. Not even dish washing detergent, so renowned for its ability or cut through oil, could help.

She was still the same. Slick. Oily.

We decided it was time for some help. We took her to the beauty parlor where she would get a more powerful washing. Two hours later, we received a call. “We are afraid to scrub or brush her any more. She already has a rash from too much scrubbing. We are unable to remove any oil.”

She was still the same. Slick. Oily.

Not only was she oily, everything she touched became oily too! The rash stayed about five days, and all of the oil trapped dirt so she became even dirtier very easily. Dirt migrated to dog. Dog migrated to house. House turned dark. Shoes turned dark. Socks turned dark. Feet turned dark. Mops, brooms, chairs, anything that touched the floor. They all were brown. Finally, about two weeks later, it gradually began to disappear.

She was no longer quite so slick. Quite so oily.

At the time, it was kind of funny, but in retrospect, she could have hurt herself a lot more than she did. You can’t be too careful around children and dogs. Almost everything could be potentially dangerous. I learned that the hard way, and was lucky not to learn it the harder way.

Quick Write: PitFall

Posted on by Standard 1

This is just a quick scenario. I never actually finished the entry.

I stooped low, no longer able to stand upright, due to this narrowing, dark, sultry, dungeon of a cave. Still, it wasn’t going that badly, and I needed the artifact.

That’s when the ground opened up.

I scrabbled for a hold on the walls, rocks tumbling all about; the air whistled whistled louder, louder, as I fell, faster faster. My eyes watered, my limbs flailed… And then I relaxed.

After all, there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I became acutely aware of every indentation, every imperfection in the stone around me, despite the fact that it was whizzing past me so fast, my eyes barely recognized what they saw. I couldn’t hear anything, despite the boulders bouncing and scraping on the walls. It was almost peaceful… quiet… serene.

I waited for something to happen.

Dog Antics

Posted on by Standard 1

I have two of the most ridiculous dogs ever to walk the earth. This is said with love, of course, but they are two of the most goofy, clumsy, bouncy, slobbery dogs ever. Period.

They love to go outside, rain or shine, and do several laps around the yard at full throttle. You can just walk outside, and a streak of color whizzes past you. Wait a couple of seconds, and there it goes again!

Of course, when they’re all done, they go roll around in any mud they can find, so the house get nice and dirty when they come back inside.

Occasionally, we chase each other around the house, and we have a wood floor that they simply cannot get any traction on. I’ll be standing there, and a dog will come barreling toward me. I step to the right. The dog skids right past me, limbs flying everywhere, trying to change direction.

At the end of every day, they are so exhausted that they pass out. They get plenty of rest so that we can do it all again tomorrow!

Homework: The Second Iteration

Posted on by Standard Respond

I’ve already made the point that homework takes away any hope of down time a student- such as myself- could otherwise have.

I’m here today, though, to talk about another aspect of homework. In fact, the whole point of school.
In my previous post on homework(published on October 25, 2013), I pointed out that it takes away all of your free time. This makes students hate homework, which leads to hating the school that assigns it.

Teachers spend minutes on end, droning on about the importance of being motivated to learn. Maybe, just possibly, if students didn’t hate the school,they would be more willing to be taught by that school.

Students hate homework. Homework is a student’s entire life. Therefore, students hate their lives. That can’t be good for psychological well being, in fact, stress can have a physical impact on people as well. Studies have shown that stress can lead to shorter lives, more painful lives, and generally- a pretty bad time.

Teachers, do you really need to assign homework that much? Is it worth ruining your students’ lives?

Think about it.

Please

Lost?

Posted on by Standard Respond

What does it mean to be lost?

When we don’t know where someone is, we say they are lost. Is that really the case? The lost person spoken of knows exactly where they are. Maybe it is not they who are lost, but we who are lost without them.

If my dogs ran off and started exploring the neighborhood, I would say they were lost. That’s not true. They know exactly where they are. I don’t, but they do. They aren’t lost. I’m just lost without them.

I have a theory on the mentality of a dog. If you were to ask a person what time it was, they would most likely find the nearest clock and tell you what said clock shows. Let’s assume that dogs can talk. If you asked a dog what time it was, they would reply, “now”.

If you were to ask a person where you were, they would most likely tell you what building, or what city you were in. If you were to ask a dog, they would say “here”. Kind of obvious isn’t it? Where else would you be? Dogs know exactly where they are at all times. They are “here”.

The meaning of the word lost is really in the eye of the beholder. Who’s to say who is lost?

Beowulf

Posted on by Standard 1

In my English class, we have been reading Beowulf: A New Telling by Robert Nye.

In a few places, Robert Nye describes queen Wealhtheow as having a blue cloak. In chapter 5, she also is described as having blue eyes. Why all the blue?

In the Christian bible, Mary, the mother of Jesus, always wears a blue cloak. She is known as the Holy Virgin. She is, in some branches of christianity, queen of the heavens. Blue is known as the color of purity, of virginity, of innocence.

All babies are born with blue eyes. Not many people know this, but all babies are born with blue eyes. The scientific reason is that people are born without melanin, the pigment that accumulates over time and darkens your eyes. People with blue eyes have less melanin in the genes they get from their parents.

In times when the bible was written, however people didn’t know that. They thought that the color of the baby’s eyes was because of innocence. Therefore they made Mary’s cloak blue.

Because of that cloak, blue became known as the color of the heavens, of benevolence and goodness.

Having queen Wealhtheow wear blue and posses blue eyes signifies that she is a good, innocent person. Someone that can be trusted.

Homework

Posted on by Standard 4

Grown- ups think “How hard could it be?” It could be very, very hard. They think you go to an enjoyable day at school, learning the information the world has to offer. You then go home and practice a little in each subject and take the rest of the day off.

There could not be a worse representation of the facts. You learn nothing in school. You go home and stay up till, oh, eleven thirty or so, and go to bed. There is no free time.

The homework isn’t fun either. No, it is quite possibly the bane of my existence. Hour after hour, the only sound in my house is the sound of my pencil scratching on paper. Scritch, scritch. I hate it. Hours upon hours of boredom. Desolation. Silence.

I wake up the next day, and all I have to look forward to is more of the same.

Oh summer, where are you? I fear I may be going insane. Maybe I already am.

Halloween Front porch.

Posted on by Standard Respond

Johnny had gotten his pillowcase half full of Halloween candy. He came to the next house, already on a sugar high, though he wasn’t nearly done getting his beloved candy yet.

This next house seemed different from the rest. It wasn’t decorated, nor did it seem inhabited.
As Johnny walked up the steps, he began to feel as if he was moving backward even though he clearly wasn’t. He looked down and he could have sworn he saw the ground churning beneath his feet, though he knew it was only his imagination. He began to see faces in the old, mottled bricks that made the walls of the house. It seemed as if they were pressed against the wall, straining to get out.

Despite all this, he kept moving, determined to get his candy.

Suddenly, the feeling of moving backward reversed. He flew toward the door. The ground, no longer thrashing aimlessly, began to methodically roll him closer to the house. Panicked, he scrambled to get away, but it’s hard to run when the very ground is working against you. The faces in the bricks stopped straining and started grinning as if expecting a long awaited dinner. They were famished. A delicious ten year old would do nicely.

Slowly,

Ever so slowly,

The front door creaked open…

Should Video Games Be Considered a Sport?

Posted on by Standard 6

I think it should. Any sportsman who is good enough can go professional. This is no different with gaming. Any sport requires skill. So does gaming. Sports are usually very enjoyable. So are games. Do you see the point I’m getting at? There is usually some kind of championship in each sport. There definitely is in gaming. A game is no different than any other sport. People will say “But games require a controller and a screen. No other sport needs that.” Can you think of any other sport than car racing that requires a car? Does any other sport than football need goalposts? People will say “But you need to be active for it to be a sport.” NASCAR drivers don’t do much. They sweat a lot, and they feel exhausted after the race, but that’s because the stakes are very high. Anyone would do that. Gamers do the same thing. In some world championship, a gamer will fell just like a NASCAR driver does.
In conclusion, there is little difference between video games and any other sport. They’re all sports.
No difference.

Gaming—Those “Whaaaa?” Moments

Posted on by Standard 1

Everyone who has ever played a video game has found those spots in a game where the player throws down their controller and punches the sofa for a while. Those are the places that separate the true gamers from the passive gamers. Places like that spot in Batman: Arkham City. One is instructed to find the subway station, and after hours of searching, none appears. The player is sufficiently annoyed enough to look it up on the internet, and finds that it is just a seemingly cosmetic tent in the sidewalk. Those moments are the spice of life.