The Drifter

“I have managed to merely exist in a life worth living, while you have managed to live in a life worth existing…” This was a line I created for one of my characters in a story I call The Drifter. I let this line sit in the corner of my thoughts gathering dust until I took an inspecting eye to it. This single line of mine inadvertently summed up one of my core beliefs. I believe that you should face your problems head on and overcome them.

When I was much younger I could barely say a single word because of how severe my stuttering speech impediment was. At the age of four, it was so bad that santa couldn’t understand what I asked for. Throughout the years I constantly faced my crutch and after nearly eight years of hard work I was able to erode it to the point of irrelevance in my day-to-day life.

When I was just starting elementary school my father died, this event had a very deep and profound effect on me. The shock of his death caused me to miss large chunks of first grade which left me at a severe disadvantage when compared to everyone else. I lacked the same strong foundation that the leaning tower of Pisa has lacked.

It wasn’t until 3^rd grade that I finally was able to begin to overcome my problems. I saw my disadvantage as an obstacle and worked gruelingly to catch up and surpass my peers. I went from the runt of the litter to a strong competitor for leader of the pack.

During all those hardships another issue had arose that if left unchecked would have landed me in Juve hall. My anger was like an abyss with frothing black rapids that threatened to sweep me up in their poisonous currents. It took me 4 or 5 years of arduous mental discipline to finally control those unruly waters. Before I would respond with venom and physical strife, and now when faced with adversity I tighten my jaw and construct a set of simple yet powerfully heavy words.

I believe that by facing your problems and overcoming them you can open opportunities that would never be open to you. If I had never faced my problems I would not be the person that writes this essay today. I took up the gauntlet, persevered, and because of that I have become the polar opposite of who I was in my younger life.

“The Drifter sat hunched in the chair, a joint idly burning between his fingers. A cold chuckle escapes his lips, “The ones on the outside looking in would love to live a life like mine… A life where you’re constantly in strife against yourself.” His voice fades before continuing once more, “… but I would trade it all just to live a single day of peace…” His voice dies off and the only sound to be heard is the ticking of a grandfather clock…”

Sustainability Visit

1. What is your name and role here?

My name is Kathi and I am a shopper here.

2. Why do you choose to shop here?

Well there are fresh food... and I am sort of forced to by my children, but I also like to support.

3. When did you first start coming here?

ummm, A while go... few years now. I think five years, at least.

4. Do you garden at home?

uh, no. I live in a apartment so it really wouldn't be all that easy for me to garden at home.

5. What would your advice to get others to do what you do?

hmmm, I guess because it's a good thing...

1. I guess what struck me about it was how small it was. The one I went to you could easily walk up and down the entire length of it in what seemed to be only a minute. As far as goods there it was what I expected, they had all the average stuff you would expect to find at a farmer's market.

2. I didn't really look at the prices of most items but I did notice that honey at the market I went to was fairly expense compared to what I was use to.

3. hmmm, I don't think my family will any time soon seeing how stubborn some of us are, but I think further down the line I will eventually start going to them more often than not.

4. I think these places and the people at them show why most don't live sustainably because I realized that some there have the want and desire to live more sustainably i.e. growing their own foods, but those people don't have the means to live sustainably. I think these places really show that the only way to get the average person convinced you need to make it more easily accessible and less of a annoyance/burden.

Discussion of My Ishmael and Food, Inc.

well, my mother and I discussed both My Ishmael and Food, Inc. With food, inc we were in agreement that what has been happening recently (according to the movie) was deplorable and actually shocked my mother a few times. This discussion led us in to talking about how food is locked up (according to My Ishmael) and my mom didn't find it as interesting of a concept as it was to me. I eventually got around to talking about a hypothetical house design I have been constructing slowly but surely. I described it to her as a "house that is more like its own city than just a home." what I mean by that is this design I have been concocting is a dramatic re-design of the everyday home. The roofs are 100% replaced by solar panels and the roof is lined with a gutter system that leads all the rain water into a underground purifier that recycles the water to be used for the household. My design also involves a automated greenhouse slapped onto the back. Thats not even the half of it... I am just personally a little lazy and don't want to go in-depth. We next moved on to another subject from My Ishmael, Education. Now my mom is a firm believer that the current education system overall has been doing a great job so far. I on the other hand have always thought our educational system was crap and lacked severely in more than one way. My Ishmael essentially just gave more enough fuel to argue with her over the subject for months, maybe years to come... heh. She tried to fiercely defend our educational system but I eventually was able to best her when I explained a prototype design that I have been toying with... Essentially this design revolves around the base idea of a collage only on a much longer term. Again my laziness prohibits me from explaining this in any real depth.

Dialectic Journal: My Ishmael

quote: "Mother Culture's deception here is that schools exist to serve the needs of people. In fact, they

exist to serve the needs of your economy. The schools turn out graduates who can't live without jobs but

who have no job skills, and this suits your economic needs perfectly. What you're seeing at work in your

schools isn't a system defect, it's a system requirement, and they meet that requirement with close to one

hundred percent efficiency."

Response: Once again My Ishmael has proven to reveal yet another obvious truth that barely anyone see's until it is pointed out to them. This quote, to me, connects perfectly to our current government and its increasing failure to do anything at all useful for the common man. What I mean by this is that the US government cares more about keeping the corporations happy, fat, and powerful while they make Americans dumb, docile, and blind. At first when I started noticing this trend with the government I never looked to see just how far it reached until I read these chapters and realized that the government isn't just doing this on a scale that encompasses the media. It is also doing it down to the schools themselves, essentially, making brain dead lemmings out of most people before they even have a chance to make something of themselves. This not only infuriates me but it frustrates me to the point that I feel the need to attempt to come up with a better, not perfect, but better education model for a hypothetical government that is both capitalist and socialist (along with also being a true democratic republic). Essentially my current idea is to have a school that teaches you what you need to learn at first and then at a certain stage (varying from person to person) you chose a certain set of studies that fascinate you and eventually help you to get into the field of work you want to go into for the future.

Idealism

Hegemon Drift Darwin stalks his office with the look of a man that is at a loss. His figure is hunched over and his face downcast. His sulking eyes roam his large sterile office for any inspiration until his eyes fall upon the picture of his father. The image is abused and old, sighing the Hegemon straightens himself and fetches the old picture. Fixated on it he slumps into a chair and recounts, what his father had said once to him,

“… It’s up to you and the path you choose… to be lead to the slaughter or to lead the way…The question is… Will you have what it takes?” It looks as if I am leading my people to their doom father… I guess I don’t have what it takes to save everyone. This thought looms in his head before finally putting the picture down & exiting his alienated office.

A scowl crosses his face as he walks through the black on white hallways. Everything is so sterile and disconnected from life that he wonders if his government has gone blind. His wrinkled and dirty clothing looks utterly out of place in this world. A cloud of despair hovers over everyone he passes which just adds more to the weight that he feels every minute of his life. As he rounds a corner he spots Arnim, an old friend, who is on the floor with his back slumped against the wall. When Drift reaches him he stares at his sleeping friend before kicking him lightly in the side

“Get up… I need to talk to someone…” Arnim groans and opens one of his eyes and squints at the Hegemon. His face is distorted with exhaustion and woe. His Brown skin has slowly turned to a pale like color from lack of sun.

“Let me ask you… Do I look ANYTHING like a psychiatrist… because if I do than I have less of a fashion sense than I was led on to have,” This produces a weak smile from The Hegemon who helped Arnim up onto his feet. “It’s not that you look like a psychiatrist… but it is more of a fact that you are the only other insane person in this bunker,”

The Hegemon quickly gets past the pleasantries and jesting and gets right to the point of things. “Arnim, I am going to be doing something that will be highly controversial and I need you to back me up… I am inviting the separatist’s leader into the Inner Bunker. I believe that if he and I talk it out like reasonable men then this entire situation may just all blow over and allow everyone to fight against Emperor Arnold together,” Arnim stares at Drift with a face that blares ‘are you insane’

“Drift, you know I will back you up whole heartily with anything you decide to do… but allowing that man into the heart of what’s left of your government is just crazy… Either way I will back you up but I do think your idealism will be the foil of us all,” Drift nods knowingly but ignores his friend’s advice.

Rounding another corner both men are now at the main access. Soldiers stand guard and await the Hegemon’s orders. They’re clad head to toe in black armor, and their faces are covered in a special re-breather mask that allows them to fight in any field of combat. Drift nods to them to proceed. Quickly the soldiers open the main access gate and are forced to push back a crowd of dirty commoners. Out of the mob surfaces the Separatist leader who quickly gets past the soldiers and shakes hands with the Hegemon.

“It’s a…pleasure to meet you Mr. Hegemon,” The Separatist leader say’s with a sly tone. Drift smiles seemingly oblivious to the man’s tone.

“Come let’s continue talking in the Command Information Center,” Drift guides the man down a hallway as Arnim follows closely behind them with a scowl on his face.

As the trio enters the large terraced CIC it goes completely silent. All the eyes are not on the Hegemon or Arnim but are all boring into the Separatist leader. His ragged clothing look almost ancient compared to the post-modern looks of the CIC and its people. Arnim takes up a position near the center of the CIC while the other two stand in the center and begin their political discussions.

“There is nothing more that I would want than to see both our flocks working together to fight the true enemy… Emperor Arnold… now I know we have been harsh to your people over the last few years but can’t we put the past behind us?” Drift speaks passionately and continues onward while the Separatist leader simply stands and nods quietly.

As the Hegemon is nearing his finale an explosion rackets the entire bunker and throw’s the Hegemon to the ground. The Separatist smiles broadly as he sees the Hegemon on the ground. Slowly the man bends down and stares the Hegemon in the eye.

“You are more foolish than we thought… We would never have peace with you. Say goodbye to your precious government,” The man speaks viciously as he rips off his outer jacket revealing a small bomb belt. Arnim who is quick on his feet charges and pushes the man into a corner, and Arnim whips around grabbing the Hegemon and throws both themselves behind the center Holo Table…

“D…Dri...wake...p…Drift!...wake…up!” Slowly Drift comes to and groans wishing he hadn’t. The room is filled with smoke and his head and side burn horribly.

“What the hell happened Arnim!?” Drift asks through a fit of coughing. His once clean suit is now torn, dirtied, and is covered in someone’s blood.

“It appears the separatists have planned an assignation attempt and a coup,” Arnim says groggily. His head is smeared with blood and his combat armored is dented inward causing it to stab into his flesh.

The CIC is still chaotic as people rush in and out of it trying to get control over the situation. Wounded are slowly making their way out into the corridors. Gun fire is echoing through the corridors and it is getting closer. A large hole in a section of CIC is what’s left of the separatist leader. Slowly Drift tries to sit up and quickly realizes he has a shard of metal in his side as he shouts out in pain.

“What do you have to complain about? My breast plate has banana-peeled inward so I have metal digging into my chest… you big baby,” Arnim says and does a laugh that turns into a liquid filled cough. Drift laughs along with him but his turns into a low groan. Both faces wrinkle in concern because the gun fire has ceased and they hear marching. A group of grimy and tattered civilian soldiers force their way into CIC. They bark commands to the people to all gather in the center. When one spots the Hegemon on the floor slowly bleeding out from shrapnel wounds he bellows a deep laugh that sends shivers down the Hegemon’s (Drift’s) spine.

“Look here! The Hegemon! Looks like your idea of peace hasn’t really spanned out for you? Has it!” The soldier laughs ones more. “It’s time your tyranny ends forever!” The soldier lifts up his gun and fires multiple rounds into the Hegemon.

As the first bullet enters his gut Drift can’t help but laugh like a maniac and his laughter only gets louder and more desperate as more bullets enter his dying and shocked system until one bores itself deep into his cranial cavity.

Link to our Zine PDF

Tim Traveler Pillar

Project Description:

The purpose for the pillars was to make us experts in a isolated section of our civilization.

Process:

We had to first fight over which pillar we wanted... After that we had to do a lot of research into our pillars using the web and books.

Reflection:

-I learned that researching a ancient civilization like Babylon is challenging because they lump it in with the rest of civilizations in that area...

- A major challenge I encountered was lack of evidence... I couldn't find any thing more than a trickle of information about Babylons government.

- I would have been more pro-active with my research and I would have gone back rewritten my entire essay.

- The mistakes I made with researching I think will help me learn what do next time to produce a high grade source of evidence and information.

Time Traveler Essay

Project Description:

the TT essay was about becoming experts in a specific pillar.

Process:

first we had to get some books and do a lot of research into our Pillar. Second we had write a few drafts and we had to learn MLA footnotes at the same time.

Reflection:

- I learned that doing research is a crucial and hard thing to do. I also learned that you have to be careful about your sources because they could be wrong.

- A major challenge I encountered was trying to find enough research to conform a large essay.

- I would have done more in-depth research and I would have taken the essay more seriously.

- The lessons I learned while doing this essay will help me prepare and make more professional essays.

My Essay

semester academic goals

1: concentrate more on focus with my essay's and blog posts

first step: I am going to add in more focus into my WEX writing

2:on papers really add more meat and facts about the subject and not stray much

first step: do more research and get critiques from peers on where to fix my papers.

3: annotate texts with more seriousness

first step: look at how others annotate and learn how to actually annotate

Hero Reflection

The answer to how does a hero become a hero can be answered in many ways with varying amounts of opinion's. My point of view on it though is that a hero becomes a hero when the media thinks their story is interesting enough to pull in more ratings...

The hero in my eyes project was about figuring out what makes a hero and how to concentrate on a single moment and show strong emotion in that moment that shows why they are heroic.

We had to do quite a few steps to get to the final product but one stands out to me. I didn't turn in my second draft in time which in turn caused me to rush on and not change anything on it. This caused my character sketch to turn out less than what I would have wanted it to be.

I learned that it is hard to pick a single moment in someones past and focus on it especially when they are fuzzy on it themselves. A challenge I encounter was that I didn't pick good enough questions and I was forced to use them and ended up fighting against myself because of it. I would have definitely picked better in-depth questions that really pinpointed on one single moment. All my mistakes with this project really taught me what not to do later on... which is helpful...

I guessed I tried, failing horribly, to use innovation in my character sketch... I wanted to do a broader look at why he was a a hero and try something different, but that didn't turn out quite like I wanted it to.

This is a link to my Character Sketch.

German GI

“I guess I remember the horrible living conditions more than the actual war…” my Grandfather’s soft voice did a muffled chuckle at that. I nodded slowly as I tried to grasp at the idea of just how bad they had it. I got an image of him shaking horribly in a foxhole that is filled with tarnished white and sometimes red snow. I was talking to him over the phone as I imagined him sitting in his Lay-z boy chair looking out over the lake. My grandfather fought in the last six months of WWII… To this day he can’t stand fireworks because they remind him of artillery. Before I interviewed him I had a very sketchy idea of where he ever fought and what he saw.

“So what feelings did you have when you saw the death camp near Munich?” I heard his voice crack slightly and I knew he was reliving a painful memory. I could just see him as an 18 year old soldier with a look of horror plastered on his face as he walked around the camp of dying people. I always respected him for this… He has to live with the burden of these memories.

“Revulsion, anger, and revenge… It’s hard to imagine a man doing that to another man…” his voice trailed off and I sat there listening intently as he sniffled under his breath. “All those images you see of those camps… They are all true!” his voice cracked some at the end and I sympathized with him on how stressful this might be. I felt sad for him… For the war truly scarred him. The images I’ve seen of the death camps were horrifying even in that bad quality… I couldn’t imagine having to see it with your own eyes and have to smell the horrid and rotting flesh of the prisoners.

“What was it like being in Germany during the war?” I was expecting what he said next.

“The army had a non fraternization rule to keep the GI’s from chasing the girls… The citizens… They were real back-stabbers!” I nodded slowly envisioning GI’s running after pretty German girls all over a town. I also saw civilians lying about the Death camp just to save their own asses and seeing an angry GI punch them for lying.

“Who were the DP’s?” I could hear him smack his lips in thought.

“I was put into the Military Police after the war and I was given the duty of sorting through thousands of displaced people because I could speak German… We called them DP’s.” I mentally nodded as I saw him shifting through dozens of people from all over Europe trying to get them back home. I saw their frantic and shell-shocked face as they stood there locked with him as he stared at them and sighed wishing he could get back to his country like they were getting to do. Most soldiers from WWII would say being in Germany was interesting…

“It wasn’t fascinating… Just duty…Even the sights got to be usual.” The image of him walking through a dreary, bleak, and utterly mind numbing place filled my mind… In black and white of course. I could see this dirty young GI just staring at the Alps and getting pissed at them because they weren’t home. Most vets when asked about how they felt as they were heading into war usually did that quip about fear and anxiety.

“We were taught in basic training that we weren’t the ones to get hit but the other guy next to us… I guess that made us foolish.” I still got that image of him running through a field with other soldiers as bullets fly by hungry for blood, and there’s always that one soldier that has blonde hair, blue eyes, and is 16 or 17 that should survive. I see him getting shot as he is right beside my grandfather who dives down and shouts for a medic. The soldier dies but says he never thought it was going to be him

Literary Devices

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting. He sat cross-legged as he played a lament on his violin. He had come from Gettysburg where a massive battle took place that killed millions on both sides. The sad melody brought him back to the battle. "Infantry! fix bayonets! prepare to counter-charge those tyrants!" The commanders voice ranged out through the ranks as a wave of clanking and clicking noises spread. He crouched there as his wandering eyes looked down from the hill to see the corpse of trees and farther away the Federals. His bayonet gleamed brightly in the morning light begging to be used. The howitzers boom filled the still air... The Hegemons message plays in fog of static "What happens there this day, the fate of this nation in the balance it hangs!" His lament slowed and increased in emotional waves as he remembers the death that happened there. As Angela approached Captain Anderson his playing abruptly stopped. His dirtied black combat uniform, now brown, stained the fresh grass that he sat on and all in all looked horrible in that shade. He turned his head to face Angela and stared straight into her eyes. It felt like his eyes were burrowing into her soul and forcing her to feel the sorrow that he now felt. "Lieutenant..." was all he said before looking away again. Sighing Angela kneels down next to him and oddly remains there, silent, for a long time. Her eyes got locked on the distant black smoke coming from the battle as drop ships swarmed over the site. "Anderson-"

"go away, I don't psychiatric help..." His voice is rough yet empty.

"Isn't that for me to decide? After all I am the on duty psychologist and You have been to hell and back in the last week..." Anderson sits there for a long while just staring at the horizon. Angela remains locked on him waiting for him to come back to this world.

"I need to take a shower"

"wait!" Anderson stood up and briskly walked back to the compound making sure to escape Angela's grasp. Looking over she gives a pitiful face to her friend who nods in sympathy as she goes back to talking to a private who is shell-shocked.

Goodbye Cruel World

It was early in the morning and the fog was slowly lifting. The sun gloomily streamed down through black clouds giving the earth a dead feel. There I stood on the drop off ledge near the house the cool rain licking at me and making my clothes stick to my skin and droop.

My body started convulsing and burning tears flared down my cheeks and mixed with the rain. My hands clenched tightly in balls at my side my arms were in no mood to budge from their position. My thoughts were mixed with loss, anger, and confusion at myself; the tyrannical presence in my mind urged me on closer to the ledge until I sat down on the cool cinder blocks.

I perched myself there for what seemed to be ages wrestling with my own mind trying to understand the concept of what I was attempting to do. An image of me falling off flashed through my mind and fear welled up and coursed through me. My head turned ever so slowly and my wide, reddened eyes stared at the vacant spot where a car was supposed to be. My hand shook uncontrollably either from fear or the cold air. Even though I was scared there was still that presence goading me on and overpowering my other thoughts.

My breath caught itself and wavered almost to asphyxiation. A resurgence of tears burst from me and my body convulsed anew. I scooted myself forward until I was teetering on the edge. The same image played through my mind a million times and each time a deep voice tried to convince me that it was the right path to take, “Why live in such a cruel and unforgiving world? You can end it right now.” I shook my head violently causing me to slip a little. Panic and fear ran rampant and my heart slammed in my chest.

I scrambled off the ledge onto the ground panting heavily, and my heart beat was the only noise I could hear. The voice that was urging me on seemed to get enraged before I mustered up the strength to shut it out for good. My hands shook so violently it felt like they might fall off as I moved them up to my face and cried even more.

A while later bright beams of light from a car enveloped around me and I looked up from my position against the wall to see my furious babysitter. She briskly walked up to me and violently grabbed me by the arm. The rest was blurred as she yelled and chided me, but I didn’t hear what she said because a wall had gone up around my mind making everything numb to me.