Interpretations...

So apparently schools are only now finding out about this whole iPods as tools to cheat by, thing? Hm, talk about behind the times. You see, technology will always be beneficial to the masses, but it will also prove a cornerstone in new methods to get lazier. Ever since a boombox was no longer as portable as they came, and rather portable audio devices like the Walkman came out, there have been means to cheat.
The walkman posed, and probably still poses, the greatest threat, as it is easiest to just pop a tape in a cassett recorder, and just well...record. With an iPod, well, I don't even want to start, because I am about as knowledgable on those as probably the 40year olds that are just discovering them as a threat. I plan on eventually procuring enough money to afford one, but as of yet, I have been saving my money for the unattainable dream of going on vacation "anywhere but here". But as unknowledgable on them as I am, I still am aware that they, like most forms of technology today, pose both a positive (a new marvel with the ability to hold so many songs, and some play video, too, etc...) and a negative (their misuse as a means to cheat).
Neither are all too hard to see. And while the younger generation seems to have an uncanny ability to see only the positives, the older sees it fit to do nothing but see negative. There is this wide age gap of middle, but that ever lessens.
Now, the older generation, and the plain old naive out there, may find this difficult to conceive, but there are far more prominent ways to cheat than the iPod method. Now, if I were to list them I would fear for my life, so please, just trust me on that. You were all kids once, I am sure that you are at least aware of the techniques, even if having never done them yourself.

In terms of literature, and basically the point of the title...
There is a news story about a boy that was in some serious shit for writing some pretty seriously disturbing shit in a class. They were told to write, no holds barred, all that shit. Well, this kid wrote some pretty gratuitous shit, and the tone was unnerving as well. It did not seem like some Stephen King (yes, an all too used reference...hm...)...Dean Koontz-ish artistic twisted disturbed, it came across more serious since it lacked any artistic taste.
With the Virginia Tech tragedy, Cho's writings were analysed, and the fact that he was an English major was discussed on a redundant basis. There was no doubt this kid was disturbed, but such insanity, andsuch illness cannot necessarily trancend onto the paper. Yes, he wrote about death, and yes, he wrote about sexual assults. But he is but one out of...too many to even surmise.
In English, you deal with death in various forms. Many philosophical discussions on the topic transpire, and at times, the discussions are about justification of death and/or killing. About the cruelties of the human heart. The imperfection. Unattainability of dreams. Injustice, religion, and so forth. In someone that is messed up already, these such talks can easily get to them. One would hope that it would make them simply drop the course, but evidently, in extremely rare cases, it leads to much more.
However, English to many, allows an outlet to otherwise unacceptable and outrageous behaviour, or morally unacceptable thoughts.
It is hard to tell if that is all that this individual who got in shit in Idaho was doing; letting lose on some wild side or whether he was disturbed. But one thing is for sure, you have to look at other factors, and neither the press, the school, nor us, the viewers through the looking glass, can judge too quickly without reflecting on our own writings/ artistic inclinations. I know that I haven't necessarily written about killing a bunch of people and then dreaming of performing necrophelia, then claiming that it would be humerous...But, my art wasn't all hobbits and butterflies, either.
My art teacher once referred to my friend and I as the twisted sisters (yes, unoriginal in light of the band, but you had to know the situation/ him). And My friend and I had written some pretty...interesting things... during our math class out of the deepest depths of boredom. Not to mention, Edge, your novel!
Look at some of the best writers in time: From Poe, Dostoevsky, Sartre, all the way to currently, the two already mentioned, King and Koontz ...
This kid is apparently a straight-A student (which I don't think really tells much. I am not a straight-A student, and I still did all that shit and never killed anybody), and he has never been in trouble at school or in any grand scale, outside of it.
So, cool your jets people, in light of the V.T. tragedy perhaps the authorities, and his parents should talk to him, and explain that what was written was extremely volatile and insensative, and wounds have to heal a bit. But also understand on your part, that the assignment was free writing. Not associative writing, and that the tragedy doesn't make us all psychologists. Writing is an outlet. It is supposed to be a personal, unrestrained place to do so.
Anyway, that is my opinion on those two topics in the news, I will leave it at that.
Good Night.

Adventure in P-Town

Oh man, what an insane few days. Today topped it though. I will go backwards...
I had the intention of getting some studying done today, but fuck me, I didn't even have the motivation to go to the caf to get food in the end.
So you see, I knew days in advance that Thursday I would be headin' into town. So, after loading and playing with a program that gives the capability to burn DVDs (though I could only fit one episode of Twin Peaks on the disk- this will be a longer process than I thought), I decided to hit the hay. A few hours later, it began again. Since I had the intention of getting shit done, today, I thought it best to start early, and the past few days since Monday have really begun at 4PM, and ended at 6:30AM, so I decided no time like the present to try and get myself uber-tired and pass out tonight at a half-decent time. Come 1PM, into town I doth went. Achieved nothing. 2:30, back. 3PM, decided it was FAR too nice to sit on my ass. It was 69!!! In CANADA! (Shocking, no?) So I went across the bridge, along the river, past the athletic buildings, and up the road leading to the Symons Campus (that would eventually lead to Gzowski). But then I found where I wanted to go, originially: The Peterborough Trail. This trail evidentally leads ALL the way through Peterborough.
So yea, I turned on there, and just started walkin'.
It was gorgeous...and a warm one.
I also, got lost. For those of you keeping track, yes, this would be the second time.
The first time I wouldn't even really qualify as "lost" comparatively speaking, as I never had to ask for directions. Nope, last time, I was just walking to a friend's house, took a wrong turn, ended up in a bad neighborhood, and kept going straight 'till I came across the street.
Here, I was following a path for two whole hours, making random turns where ever forks emerged, crossing bridges, cutting across parks, and finally- two hours later- emerging on a Street called Hunter St. This street I recognized as when I was inquiring as to the location of the Health Clinic in Peterborough I needed to go to, I was told it was all the way in East City. And that it was on Hunter St. So I started to get worried, and pray to an HSD that there may be two Hunter St. (or at least, this one was VERY long).
When I came out on Hunter St. I had been wandering for two hours, was exhausted, had no money, but oh, I remembered my cell phone! (Take that, father! Sorry, loooong story)
Anyway, I made a call to my brother, and semi-cut him off mid-hello saying "Well, it would appear I am lost in this God forsaken city". So I described some familiar sights (perhaps to him, at least) like an IGA, and Tim Horton's (one of thousands), and asked where I was. He was in the middle of talking to his friend, the lovely Dave who has been his share of helpful to me in the past, who helped my brother direct me where the hell I was. So he asked Dave if any of the busses go by there. While he was inquiring about that, guess what happened? I bet you can't guess...
A BUS DROVE BY! Two, actually. One going East on Hunter, and the other going North on Roger. The issue: I was on the wrong side of the street, and my frantic flagging didn't stop it.
So I didn't have time to run and catch it at it's stop across the street, and there was no way I was waiting another 40 minutes.
So, my brother pulled up a map, and told me how to get to Simcoe (the terminal that the Trent Express busses arrive/depart at). Yay...more walking. And all up hill. You see, East City is like the lower ward of Peterborough, and you have to take a bridge to get there. But alas, gorgeous day, so I wasn't going to complain. Truth was, I was kindof enjoying myself; aside from the being lost, part.
So, three hours, nearly, later. I found the terminal.
All in all, a good day. And in no way, is studying getting done tonight. I am not looking forward to Yoga, tonight, but if I stop now, I will be very sore. So alas, I think I will do that after this blog, and then crawl under the covers 'till tomorrow, to start studying for history, and English. THEN!!! PACKING!!!
Which reminds me, I have to sign out of residence.
Fuck.
I got in some trouble by the Don for not, and I still haven't. Oops. What can I say? I am just not that motivated to participate actively in the GzowskiCommunity

Anyway, I merely failed Polisci, and definitely failed Philosophy (though NOT Venn Diagrams!) And culture, well, my heart wasn't in it, but I doubt I faled. If I did, I should drop out now.

Other than that, I really don't have much to say.

Though the rats are a little more than a week away, unfortunately. With the advent of YET another doctor appointment on the 8th- one I happen to be dreading and rather skeptical of- there is, let me see if I can quote my parents right (though why they should have a say, I don't know) "there's just no time".
Oh well, I have waited this long, maybe a little longer won't kill me.

I can't help but think if I am going to get away this summer, but God, after dealing with some assholes in this town...I really want to.

Don't know where, but that is becoming even less relevant.
Bah, a good three months to decide, I guess. I hate to wait, though. I am one impatient individual.

Well, tah tah, now. Going to do the exercises, have a nice chai tea. (Been between that, apple cinamon, and green lately. None of that plain old stuff.) And then watch the tele to unwind. Maybe burn a few more episodes.

Well, See ya

Face Book account is no more.
Show resistance kids! And either quit, or never join! It really isn't that hard.

Times changin'

Well, my Cactus' old home, and new home for now. I do not much care for chocolate, so I had some smarties lying around for a while, and decided to improvise in need. Dumped the smarties and used it as the temp. home. This little cactus means the world. It has survived since the beginning of Grade 12. It was grown from a tiny little seedling by a friend of mine, and when it was old enough, I adopted it. Heh, it even survived an entire day at ODSS with me. And God knows, if it can survive that place, it can survive anything. So it has no soil but the soil on its roots, and its little clay pot that's been its home since it was a little seed.

Campus

Welcome To Trent. This is the view from the Common Room (well, one of them, the other view is of the East Bank parking Lot, which isn't very pretty right now, as the dumpster is over flowing of garbage). So, across the way is the library, and the Champlain college/ campus. There is about a ten minute path and there's Blackburn hall where the registrar's office is and then the tiny athletic complex. The Yellow, funny-looking building is the West Wing of my residence. Some classes are held across the way, but the North/ west wing are residences. Out of place with all the stone, eh?
This is out dismal hallway and that window has a nice view, as well, of almost the entire city of Peterborough. We are a ways away. One day I will get a shot, but my camera card was full.

This is just another shot of West Bank campus. I want to go sledding down that hill, one day. Maybe for my big exit when I graduate...
Actually, you can see my English class from here... I shall miss that seminar.

And here is the pic. overlooking the town. Way in the end is the dam.

THE LEAFS AREN'T DEAD, YET!