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I am a blogger who specializes in using blogs to blog.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Destroying the Earth - Musical Choices?

So, last night's episode of Doctor Who, big huh? I have friends who are convinced they are going to die of anticipation having to wait a whole week for the next episode. I won't give too much away (it only seems like I am, I'm not really, just wait and see) but I will say one thing, that ending, where the "enemy" or "big baddie" of the season is effectively killing everything (or, at least 1/10 of the population of the world) and the song playing is "Voodoo Child" by Rogue Traders...wow. All I can say is WOW, that was amazing. Which leads me to the big question of this entry...

What song would you destroy the Earth to?

Say you had somehow, under purely fictional/metaphorical/hypothetical circumstances, become a sadistic super villain, and had taken it upon yourself to destroy the Earth. What song would play in the background of our imminent destruction? Surely, this would be a very serious decision to make beforehand, one must have the proper mood before they can go blowing things up. Ask anyone.

I suppose, it probably depends on why exactly you were destroying all of humanity. For example, if you were angry at your boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other for cheating on you, and had decided to take out your anger on the whole of the Earth, then you might choose something like Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. If you were destroying us because you generally hated humanity, and had been planning the destruction of all humans since the day you found out you were one, you might go with Thanks for the Memories by Fall Out Boy (for that ironic/sarcastic touch) Of course, you could just have destroyed the Earth on accident, to which I would suggest the ever-popular Oops, I Did It Again by Britney Spears.

Similarly, apocolyptic song choices also depend not just on why you are destroying the Earth, by how. If you are planning on destroying the world by, say, somehow causing the atmosphere to disintegrate, or expanding the sun on us, I'd go with Fight The Sky by Gavin Mikhail. If you need to destroy the world so you can build a hyperspace expressway or something, then go with Thanks For All The Fish from the Hitchhiker's Guide the the Galaxy. Of course, there's always R.E.M.'s Its the End of the World, which would probably work for anything...except maybe rabid attack bunnies...then you might have to go with The Point of No Return. There is no saving us from rabid attack bunnies, no matter how clever or super-heroic you might be.

In short, think carefully about your musical choices before you go and destroy the Earth. Personally, I'd go with Don't Stop Me Now by Queen, though If Everyone Cared by Nickleback would make a lovely sadistically ironic twist. >:) I would definitely go with Queen though, nothing like a song you can really dance to while the world is ending around you. Oh yeah.



Friday, June 22, 2007

Another One Bites The Dust

Well, I've just checked the date, which is unusual, since I usually don't care much during the summer, and discovered that not only is it Friday (the day before the first half of the Doctor Who series finale aires) but it also happens to be the day after the one year anniversary of this Blog.

Oops. Should have checked that.

So, looking back on my year, reading my Blog entries from last summer, you'd think my life was in a constant state of chaos and boredom. My first two or three entries aren't bad, talking about movies and TV shows I'd seen recently, sitting around the pool with my sister, that sort of thing. Then my Grandfather died. That was an entry. Looking back, it was most about crying, or rather my inability to cry. I still haven't cried, not yet. I still catch my self saying "We're going to Grammy and Poppa's" even though Poppa is gone. It's been nearly a year since that happened, clearly I haven't really been coping too well.

Then I talk about the flood, or what is now referred to in this part of the country as simply "The Hail Storm" As if my life wasn't chaotic enough at that point, I was nearly drowned in a hail storm, trapped in a flimsy colonial house during the worst weather event in several years! My mom had to get a new car because the hail dented her old one beyond repair. We're still recovering from that one. Sort of like my Grandfather.

Then I went to SYMS. Ah SYMS, the best and worst two weeks of my life. What I fail to mention in my entry about SYMS is that Emily, my then roomate and one of my best friends, effectively, emotionally crushed me. One of the last few days I was there, we were all sitting around a table at lunch and we decided to play cards. She said "Ok, but someone needs to move their chair, because everyone else has tons of room and I only have a little" so I, of course, stood to up to move a chair for her as she immediately went "No, don't, you don't have to" to which I responded jokingly with "Course I will, if I don't, I'll never hear the end of it" she then slammed her cards onto the table, shoved her chair back and didn't speak to me for the rest of the day. That afternoon, she disapeared, and I nearly killed myself with a few other people trying to find her. When I did, we were up till three in the morning talking it out, and I thought everything was fine. I didn't talk to her after we left SYMS till school started and there I discovered that she apparently now hates me, would like to see me dead, and hasn't spoken to me since.

So that was SYMS. I'm still feeling that one too. Every single day at school this year, and many more, she was there to glare at me, to shove things in my face, to remind me of how much I completely and utterly suck. You get used to it after a while, having someone hating you so completely being in the same building as you. I just wish I knew why. Again, I haven't really been dealing too well with that one either.

Next I talk about Prince Edward Island, Three Moons Over Milford, and the unfortunate loss of Sailor Pluto. I acutally got a comment on that one. I like comments. Comments are good. I don't get nearly enough of them. But that's ok, I can live with that.

And that's pretty much last summer. Events and occurances I'm still feeling today, some good, some bad, and some boring. Mostly though, last summer wasn't really the greatest. I lost my Grandfather, my friend, my composure, and my electricity. All in one month. A few things I also did, I got braces, had to go through two weeks of spacers only to miss my appointment during the hail storm so they had to take them off and put them back on again for two weeks a month later. Twice with spacers, real fun. I eventually did get braces, a tragety in itself. I spent the first month bored out of my mind, being forced to watch my sister in front of a pool which is what started this Blog in the first place. Then when things finally did pick up, they were mostly bad. Mostly.

All in all, I didn't really have a great summer last year. In fact, I was effectively scarred by it. I was so scared of last summer, so terrified that this one would be a repeat of the last, that for most of the school year, I was dreading the return of summer. As the temperature got warmer, I started getting tenser, I wanted December back desperately, and only barely cheered when the school year ended.

And so here I am. One year after I started this Blog. One year later, and where am I? Sitting in front of the same computer I was last year, biding my time till I have to go and watch my sister in the big, inflatable blue pool outside. There's a sort of irony here, Huck Finn type irony that I can't quite figure out at the moment. In a few hours I'll be back outside with Alice, getting splashed one while reading a Doctor Who novel, drinking a glass of lemonaid, and slowly developing a rather nice tan. After that, I think I might call Valerie and go for a walk. Not thinking about homework, or getting up, or anything else, that's where I am.

And you know what? It may be boring, it may not be stimulating, it may seem like it's the same as last year, but it's not. No one's died yet, no one's cried yet, no one's decided they hated me yet, and there definetely (thank God or whoever) hasn't been a hailstorm yet. The summer's still young, my Blog's a year old now, and I'm actually feeling fairly content. Maybe by the end of this season I might be ready to let all of last summer go, maybe I won't. But for now I'm here.

Happy Birthday Blog, have a peice of cake. Many happy returns.



Monday, June 18, 2007

Say My Name

"We are right at the egde of knowledge itself, and you're busy...blogging! -The Doctor in Utopia

Well, that about sums up my life right there. It's funny, series three has been on for what, nearly two months now, and I haven't said a thing about it (well, except for that breif mention back in April) Originally, I was trying to use as little Doctor Who references as possible, so as not to alienate readers who had never seen the show. Well, upon discovering a few weeks ago that I actually have readers and none of them really care that I'm obsessed with Doctor Who, I've decided to talk about it again. Hmm...where do I start.

How about with a spoiler warning? Since the episode has in fact been aired (though not in this country yet) I can and will talk about certain events that take place, however, some events, such as the one I am about to discuss, are incredibly "spoilery" and will give huge amounts of plot away. If you're one of those people who likes knowing exactly what is going to happen, by all means read on, but, if you are one of those people that hates it, and avoids all spoilers like the plauge (I'm like that, still haven't seen Pirates 3 yet, still don't know the ending) than please, do not go any further. Alright? We good? Good. Then let's begin.


Oh my God, the Master. The Master. The Master. The Master. I'm still in shock. The latest episode, episode eleven Utopia, of course, featured the return of the villian I was least expecting and least excited for, the Master.

Let me make this clear, I HATE the Master. He was probably one of my least favorite Doctor Who villians of the classic series. By the time series three rolled around, if I ever stopped to think about the Master (which I didn't often) my mind usually went to "Classic series only, good while he lasted, glad he's gone" I never, EVER suspected he would make an apearance in the new series. God, was I wrong.

With a name like "The Master" you'd think he wouldn't be do-able in today's modern, advanced version of Doctor Who. Cheesyness, and supervillian names like "The Joker" or "The Penguin" are looked down upon. Most of the "enemies" of the Doctor in the new series, and the classic series actually, are specific races with specific names, not titles. He's fought a werewolf, no name, Mr. Finch of the Krillitanes, normal name, and of course, the Daleks and Cybermen, species names. The Master, in today's society would be met with ridicule, his old catchphrase "I am the Master, and you will obey me" would be answered with "Yeah, well I'm Nelly, and I'm going to call the police" You wouldn't call a respectible person, even one you hated, something like "The Master" you'd call them by name. "The Master" just sounds corney.

Once again, I was wrong.

There's a great scene in the new episode, where the Master just stole the Doctor's TARDIS and is being his usual threatening self where the Doctor says "I'm asking you really, properly, just stop. Just think." and the Master responds with "Say my name" The Doctor, incredibly shaken, clearly both frightened and broken is forced to respond with a semi-whispered "Master,"

What we're seeing there a great glimpse into who the Master is, and what his motivation is. The term "Master" when used to address another person typically means you are addressing someone to your superiour, someone you are subservient to. A slave, for example, would call their owner "Master", a servant calls their boss "Master", a dog's owner is called a "Master". By using "Master" as a name, it forces whoever addresses you to become subserviant. You, in effect, become the person's "master" by them addressing you as such, and you are therefore superior to them. The Master, being the way he is, clearly enjoys that feeling of superiority, that feeling that everyone in the universe is his slave, by the usage of "Master" as his name. He demonstrates this in one, brief, beautiful line in which he forces the Doctor, his one true equal and complete enemy, to effectively grovel at the feet of his master, the Master. In one moment, the name of the Master has been changed from nothing more than a cheesy, supervillianish name, to a metaphor of the relationship between him and the Doctor, and for how the Master truley sees himself. It's a great superiority complex. I love this show.

What it also makes you ponder is, what's in a name? The Master's name, obviousy as I just said, is a metaphor for his superiority complex and his need to see everyone subserviant to him. The Doctor, is not only a title so common that it is an effective disguise for what his unknown name is, it also represents knowledge. A Doctor is someone who goes through years and years of schooling and is therefore seen as being highly inteligent, someone wise, like the Doctor. But what about a normal person? What about us? Does a name mean the same thing to a "normal human" as it does to two fictional Time Lords?

From a logical, literal sense, the answer is no. A name is just something used to identify you, like a number but nicer. However, from a non-literal, more philisophical sense, a name is much more just a number. Humans, in general, give a lot of thought to names, just look at parents and their newborns. My aunt Terri was supposed to be named something different, but when she arrived, my grandmother took one look at her and said she didn't "look like" the name. There was something about her, something everyone could see, that made it impossible for them to name her that. After about a week being nameless, they finally decided that she was, in fact, a "Theresa" and the rest was history.

If a name really does mean nothing, why did that happen? How is it possible that a person can be a "Jenny" versus a "Sarah" or a "Gary" versus a "David"? Is there really a difference? How important is it?

I suppose it depends on the person. Someone told me once (can't remember who) that names aren't important. They said you could know a person without knowing their name as long as you focus on "the inside", which is all very nice and poetic, but it must get a little confusing having to refer to everyone you meet as "that person with a shy personality" or something. I generally think that as long as you know the person's first name, you're fine. I have plenty of friends, for instance, whose full names I don't know, I've never bothered to ask. Last names have never been important to me, just the first name.

To my mother, aparently, I am again, wrong. I was invited to a part recently at my friend from "While the Light's Were Out" house. I didn't know his last name, so when we tried to find his phone number we couldn't. While searching, my mom remarked "I can't beleive you don't really know him" to which I responded with "Of course I know him, it's Jordan, he was in the play with me, he's a friend," but I didn't know his last name. To my mother, you don't really know a person till you know their full name, like their entire name is their true identity and their first name only scratches the surface. To me, your full name's just your family name, it doesn't say anything about you, just about your family. You don't need to know a person's family to know them, just need to know them.

Though thinking about it now, a person's family is a part of them, it's their backstory. Knowing where a person came from is a big part of knowing a person, and I suppose just knowing their first name isn't really enough when looking at it that way. Wether or not you're a Jordan, a Terri, a Master, a Doctor or a Nelly doesn't really matter if you don't know their origins. It's why the Doctor doesn't tell anyone the rest of his name, it reveals too much about him.

A last name is just a family, a first name is just a person. It's the full name, I suppose, that really lets you know someone. The Master, on the surface, is a man with an intense need to feel superior and make everyone else feel subserviant, but underneath all that, someonewhere in the depths of his origins, there may be more to him. There couldn't be something else there that, from a different part of him, is different, like a last name we just haven't seen yet. You don't really know a person till you know their full name.

Which of course, answers the question. What's in a name? A lot.

I can't beleive the Master's back. I loved the guy that played him last night, John Simm was brilliant. Can't wait for more. Right now though, I have to go find Jordan's last name. And then I think I'll go to a party.



Friday, June 15, 2007

The Knife on the Rocks

I climbed down a rock cliff on the side of a house downtown, underneath a big stone bridge today. I had only intended to climb down there to sit on the rocks by the rapids of the river and draw...and then I found it.

A knife. There was a large, sharp carving knife lying lonely on one of the rocks. It was just sitting there, completely intact, no obvious purpose other than to scare someone. It was a bit unnerving at first, it's not often you climb down to the base of a rock wall and are met by the knife from Psycho. I was, however, determined to ignore it. I stubbornly climbed away from it, sat on a rock somewhere else and spent an hour reading and drawing before finally returning to it. By this point I'd had some time to think, time to contemplate the many things that could happen with a knife here, the many animals and small, adventurous children that might get accidentally stabbed.

I picked it up by the handle and stared at it for a while, pacing across the ground in front of the river rapids, trying to figure out what to do. I had pretty much decided by then that it couldn't stay out in the open, I just needed to figure out where I was going to take it, and how I was going to take it there. I tried putting it in my bag, but it nearly tore a hole through it so I took it out. After several minutes of pacing and secretly scanning the water for dead bodies, I turned around and began the climb back up to the alleyway above the rocks, knife in hand, trying my best not to look like a murderer.

Upon poking my head out from below the rocks, I was immediately met by a group of four slightly bewildered middle schoolers on bikes. Apparently, they hadn't been expecting a strange person with a knife to pop out of nowhere on their bike ride, I think they assumed I was smoking pot down there, till they saw the knife. Behind them, I could see a dumpster in the distance, the perfect place for me to throw it. I just needed to get past the line of shops in front of it without someone calling the police. The middle schoolers blocked my way, however, and demanded to know what I was doing there. "Is that your knife?" on of them asked.

"No," I responded immediately, "I found it on one of the rocks, I didn't want anyone to get hurt, so I..."

"What were you doing down there?" another one asked in that annoying middle school voice they all seem to have...was I like that in middle school?

"I was drawing," I said. They smirked.

"On what? The wall?"

"I have a notepad..." I said, not bothering to take it out of my bad, since I was only sketching and the picture wasn't very good. They didn't seem to believe me, I still think they thought I was a pothead.

"So why do you have the knife? Are you gonna kill someone?"

"No," I said again, "I found it on the rocks, it was just there, I brought it up so nothing would get hurt, but now I don't know what to do with it." As I was speaking every single walker in my town decided now would be an excellent time to walk right up the ally I was standing in, making it impossible for me to run to the dumpster. Suprisingly, the middle schoolers seemed to pick up on this.

"People are gonna think you're crazy," said one of them. I nodded.

"Yeah, I was hoping to put it in that dumpster..."

"But there's too many people around," they replied. Another one of them held out their hand.

"I'll take it," he said, and before I could stop him, he took the knife right out of my hand and ran to the dumpster, holding it discreetly behind his back. His friends stood around with me for a bit and laughed, but after a minute I finally decided to run after him. I was halfway there when he threw the thing into the dumpster, never to be seen again. I thanked him and without saying a word, he laughed and ran back to his friends. I turned and walked away, looking back only once to see that they had been joined by several other middle schoolers and were now relating their frightening encounter with a strange girl and a knife to their new friends. I walked away. The subject of it all.

And that's what I did the last day of my Sophomore year. When most people have a part or go out with their friends, I went rock climbing and found a knife, cold and alone, shining on the rocks. I'm a junior now, go figure. I'm sixteen now too, as of yesterday, not sweet sixteen, but just sixteen. I got two books (both Doctor Who) a cactus, a few other things, and something mysterious from China that apparently hasn't come in the mail yet. I'll keep you posted.

But in the meantime, this means I'm officially on Summer break. Finals are done, job applications are being sent, books are being read, and most importantly, the knife has been disposed of. Life is good right now. Life is very good. :)

Oh, and I won "Best Actress" at the Drama Banquet for Alma Threedle. Got a plaque and everything...and they spelled my name right!!!!

I'll spare you anymore of this, have an awesome begining of the summer,


Friday, June 01, 2007

Library Musings

So I'm sitting in the school library right now, supposedly doing my hisory homework, but in reality typing up a Blog entry. At the same time, I'm also aparently on wikipedia looking up Ronald Reagan, who, to be honest, was a bit too Republican for my tastes anyway so it makes perfect sense that I'm only pretending to look him up, and am in reality typing up a Blog entry. Don't tell anyone, the last time I did this, I forget to pretend I was doing something inportant, and got thrown out. If that happens this time, I'll let you know, not that you'll care, since you won't have this entry to know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, moving on.

I have no particular subject for this entry other than that I'm bored, in the library, connected to the internet, and sick of reading about Ronald Reagan. Did you know he was an actor? I really should see one of his films sometime, if only just to say I've seen one. For me, at least, it's impossible to think what kind of actor Ronald Reagan must have been, mainly because I've never known him as anything other than a political figure, and to me, acting and politics have always been two completely separate things. Though, thinking about it now, they're very similar. Politics is just a show, and the presidents and senetors merely players...or was that Shakespeare? I think I'll stop here, even if politics is like acting, it's probably never a good idea to mix it with Shakespeare.

There's still twenty minutes left of the period...the person next to me is looking up the definition for "reasonable doubt" which automatically makes me think of "12 Angry Men" which, if I'm remember correctly, I did in an eight grade English class, despite being not being a man. I played the Foreman, which meant most of my lines consisted of "Gentleman, please!" but it was fun anyway. There's a great movie adaption I got off the free movie section on On Demand a few months ago, stayed up till two in the morning watching it. I'd highly recommend it, if you like that kind of thing. And don't take that the wrong way, a lot of people I know wouldn't like it, it's basically just two and a half hours of twelve guys in a room talking. But it's really well acted talking...

Anyway, that has nothing to do with anything, or is it anthing to about nothing? Or even still, is it much ado about nothing? But then, that's Shakespeare again, and we said we weren't going to get into him.

The librarian walked in a few minutes ago, and I quickly switched back to the wikipedia page I have up on Ronald Reagan. She watches the computer lab like a hawk, I swear, sculking around the different computers, checking the screens over people's shoulder's just waiting to find someone doing something non school related. I've often wondered why she does that, why she really cares what we're doing on the computer during study hall (or in my case, chorus) Is it really concern for the well being of the EHS student body, or is it, like the rest of us sitting in here, simply because she has nothing else to do. Personally, I think it's a bit of both, which would mean, she's not that much unlike the rest of us. We're all human, we're all concerned, and most certainly, we're all bored sometimes. There's nothing wrong with this, we're not bored all the time. Life is exciting on occasion, it's learning what to when it's not that's the main problem, and if that means wandering through a computer lab and yelling at unsuspecting students, then I suppose, not matter how annoying that might be, it's probably good to just let it happen.

The bell just rang, I'm off to lunch now. Hopefully that will be a bit more intersting than the library, but , who knows?

Hope you're not bored,