Memoirs of a Human Looking at the Sky Pt. 1

I said I wouldn't post anything today, but I felt like a small piece of writing would be a good way to end June and provide a transition to July. This is very old, from a few years ago. I thought up the general plot on my way home from school one day and never got around to fleshing out more than a few pages. I'll post the short story in segments, probably three or four total. Who knows, this might even motivate me to write up a rough ending for it.

Memoirs of a Human Looking at the Sky
Written by Andrew DeCoster
3/8/2006

The ninjas first attacked the boy the night he won his regional car design contest. Perhaps “attack” is not the correct word. “Observed” or “encountered” might be more suitable. They were obviously ninjas, what else could they be? There were four of them in all, clothed in black ninja suits, with billowing pants tucked into small black boots. They had their faces wrapped in back cloth, with only a slit of an opening for their eyes to peer out. On their backs, they carried ninja swords, short and sharp little one-handed swords used for stabbing mostly. The boy noticed them the moment he got out of the back seat of his mother’s car. They were there, waiting on the roof of his house, a bit hard to spot against the pitch-black night. However the boy saw them right away. They were not very good ninjas.

The boy had just returned from a design contest. He had won second place, a very reasonable spot among almost fifty other kids his age. Being young, his design wasn’t extraordinary. It did however possess a certain style to it, and his drawing skill helped to fill the gaps where his imagination left off. The car was a boxy little four-seater. He drew it using some brand new pencils fresh from the box. He had actually just drawn it that afternoon, although he had applied to the contest almost a week earlier. The small silver medal he had won was tucked deep inside of his jacket pocket, so no one would see it, and perhaps in a fit of jealousy take it. The boy was going to wait until after he was safe inside of his bed before examining his new object. However, now that the ninja’s had shown up, he began to panic. They were obviously there to take the medal from him. Any reasonable person would try to, the boy reasoned. It was shiny.

However the ninjas didn’t attempt to take his medal. In fact they didn’t move at all. They just watched him and fidgeted around on the roof. His mother, for some reason, didn’t notice the ninjas on top of the roof, and ushered the child inside before he could alert her to their presence. However, once he was inside he decided that she didn’t need to know. The ninjas didn’t seem to be attacking. Perhaps they were just taking a break on a cross-country roof-to-roof journey. The boy laughed quietly to himself. He wasn’t truly afraid of the ninjas. In fact, seeing them up there, fidgeting around, looking uncomfortable, and looking at each other, he sensed that they were the one’s afraid of him. He drank some water, took a shower, and went to bed.

<>
>>TO: NormShwang576@united.net
>>FROM: UltraSecretMan22@government.gov
>>RE: Job Opportunity

>Mr. Shwang?
>That’s me.
>Hello, this is Mr. Blank.
>Oh. That’s a nice name.
>Thanks, although it is not my real name.
>What do you mean?
>I work for the SAFE, a branch of the government.
>SAFE?
>It stands for Secret Agent Intelligence Force.
>Wouldn’t that spell SAIF?
>Well…yes, but SAIF is not a word.
>Yeah, you’re right.
>I have a proposal for you, Mr. Shwang. A job proposal.
>I’m all ears.
>Fantastic, listen carefully…
<>

Thoughts on Les Pauls/City of Angels/End of June

Alright people, prepare yourselves. This is a triple feature post, containing my thoughts (in varying degrees of linguistic competence; it is 11:00 at night) on three distinct topics of conversation, blended with a requisite amount of useless banter and sarcastic rhetoric. First off I'd like to formally bid adieu to the month of June. Tonight is not the last night but I do not plan on posting anything tomorrow, so I'll say it now. Goodbye June. Thank you for all the memories. Thank you for delivering me safely from the clutches of high school. Thank you for showering me with moist air and really ill-scheduled thunderstorms. Most of all, thank you for giving me some time to breath during this big transition. I'd also like to note that during June I was successful in evading many of the nostalgia laden emotional roller coasters that I witnessed many of my fellow friends and classmates embark upon without much in the way of grace or poise.

June has also proven itself to be a time of strengthening friendships. I've found myself growing closer to some people than I would have expected. I've also found myself finding new potential friendships amongst my future classmates in college. More than anything, I've found myself struggling with how to describe the aforementioned experiences without coming across as effeminate.

Image is something I have worried about quite in my life, to an extent that I am now realizing may have been excessive. This is something that I have been pleasantly surprised to find has changed. As I go into the summer before my first year of college I have not worried much at all about how people will perceive me. Instead, I've found myself focusing almost exclusively on the academic and personal ramifications of the decisions I will be making, and how they will affect my future. If I can say one thing about high school, I suppose it would be that it has taught me that the social circles we run in can be laughably obscure and that the only thing we have control over truly is the kind of people we associate with. I can honestly say that I am quite content with my circle of friends, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Alright, onto a plane of discussion that is hopefully more ripe for sarcasm...


Two days ago my mother and brother left for California, on a trip to visit friends and family. I stayed behind, in order to continue working. The end result is that I have the house to myself, along with the car, and a significant amount of food. While this may strike you as the essentials for any teenager, I have found myself quite baffled at the lack of something I can now attribute solely to the presence of my family. The human element, though quite imperceptible while in abundance, has, in its absence, left my house in a slightly disoriented state. Everything is quiet. The house seems at least twice as large as it usually does. And while I have not spent much time here over the past two days, due to work, I can't help but expect my mother or brother to burst through the door at any point, home from work or school. I can't say that I'm not enjoying my time alone. It has given me room to decompress, and push the envelope of my independence. It just feels strange not having people to live with.

I'd like to clarify the previous statement. There is another occupant in my house besides myself. Loyal readers of my blog, you should know her well by know: that's right, its Killer, my loyal canine and occasional pal. She is steadfast and noble, holding the house securely until I arrive in the evening from work at which point she demands to be taken out, played with, petted, and sung to. That is, unless there is a thunderstorm afoot, in which case her usual stoic and attentive demeanor is reduced to a shivering, whimpering pile of fur curled at my feet. Quite pathetic.

However, nothing helps you get through bad weather like a good movie. Being a man, I opted for something that would inspire feelings of testosterone and male initiative. I opted for City of Angels, everyone's favorite epic romance from 1998. I wish I could tell you I was joking right now, but the truth is I love that movie. I usually end up watching it only once a year, and I guess I filled my quota for 2008 (along with my quota for crying during the climax).

If you've never seen City of Angels go rent it right now. Watch it by yourself, and comment in reply to this thread with your thoughts. I think you'll agree with me that is really quite fantastic.

In addition to watching sad romance movies, there is one other thing I like to do when I'm feeling lonely or disjointed: music. If you don't know, I play both guitar and piano and sing when no one else is around. Music is a very important part of my life, up there with waffles and the battery life of my laptop. I play mostly acoustic guitar because it fits the kind of music I listen to, and I can play it by myself with minimal fuss or cables/amps. However, today I went to a local Guitar Center with my dad. In the process of explaining to him how guitars work, I stumbled across a used Epiphone Les Paul. Anyone who knows anything about guitars knows that the Les Paul is a model of electric guitar made by Gibson. It is quite possibly the most renowned model of guitar along with the Fender Stratocaster. Epiphone makes extremely good replicas of Gibson guitars, because they are a subsidiary of Gibson.

The guitar was a little worse for wear. Some of the frets had been sanded for a rough finish. There were some nicks and scratches on the back, and one of the pickups seemed suspiciously loose. However, for the price, I couldn't ask for anything better. It was coated in a beautiful cherry sunburst varnish and seemed to glow from the rack. I picked it up and it felt simply amazing. After plugging it in and playing with the tuning I decided I was going to buy it and share it with my mom (who is lacking a good guitar at the moment). After bringing it home, cleaning it, re-tuning it, and adjusting the action, I couldn't be happier. The guitar has an awesome, clean tone that comes across great even on my tiny amp. It's perfect for the same riffs I'd play on my acoustic, and also more aggressive chord patterns. All in all, I'd say buying a guitar is a good way to end any day, and it hardly put a dent in my wallet. The picture is of my new Les Paul along with my keyboard and speaker set up. I'm planning on taking all of this to college with me. Needless to say, I'm investing in a few locks.

Fishing for Funkmaster Flex at the Aquarium...

..because sometime the truth is so much better than fiction.

Alright, so my day is winding down at the Aquarium. I made a good number of sales at my cashier station, considering it was a relatively quiet day (good weather=people have better things to do with their time than patronize the local aqaurium). I go to my boss' office where I hope to be cashed out for the day and go home. In the middle of counting my twenty dollar bills my boss gets a call. It's from a nice guy who works in Imax named Davi (we take the train together occasionally). The phone conversation went something like this:

Davi: "Kent?"
Kent: "Yeah?"
Davi: "I'd just like to tell you that Funkmaster Flex is in the building."
Kent: "WHAAAAT?!?"

I'd like to note at this point that I had no idea, I mean absolutely no idea who Funkmaster Flex is. now, this might be because of the fact that I'm a white man. I mean really white. Caucasian.

What followed was perhaps the most ridiculous game of hide and seek I have ever played in my entire life. I can honestly say, with the most sincere conviction, that I will never again spend 30 minutes with my bos running through an aquarium looking for a famous DJ. I mean, it might happen, but I really don't think so.

Now, I chose the above picture (for all of my culturally unaware readers, that's a picture of Funkmaster Flex, not my boss. That said, I kind of wish my boss was Funkmaster Flex), specifically because it made Funkmaster Flex look like a magician. There was undoubtedly a bit of magic involved in this little accident, and I can't help but believe that Funkmaster Flex might be a magician, or at least a wizard. You see, my boss and I scoured the aquarium from front to back 3 times. That's THREE times, with the Funkmaster never to be found. Everyone at the Imax entrance, which is on the opposite side of the building from where I was working, said they had seen him just moments before, and the excitement was palpable. You could smell it in the air. It might have just been the seals, though. They do smell Funky.

Thoughts on Gun Control/The Constitution

I'd like to make one thing perfectly clear: I am a firm believer in the virtues of restricted gun control. I do not see that there is a necessity for guns in any avenue of civilian life. There are a few distinct reasons that staunch supporters of the 2nd amendment cite whenever a conversation about gun control comes up.

1) The right to bear arms is outlined quite clearly in the Constitution.
This one is big. This argument is taken by every conceivable demographic, including those who in most other circumstances would declare such a literal, narrow-minded, and antiquated interpretation of the Constitution to be fundamentally insane. To see such people turn a blind eye to the blatant discrepancies that exist as a result of (and largely compounded by), in such a restricted view of the Constitution is not only disappointing, but also frightening.

My view: The Constitution was written in 1787 (Wikipedia corrected my earlier assumption of 1781), during a time of tremendous political and social change. The actions of our founding fathers were heroic when taken into the context of the world they lived in. However, we cannot possibly hope to plug their decisions and views into our modern America without some degree of incompatibility. And yes, these were the views and opinions of a select few individuals, not the wishes of the country as a whole. The Constitution was written during a time before telegraph or telephone or the internet. These select few people did not represent constituents in any dramatic or romantically traditional sense. Instead, many of these people were business men or politicians that relied heavily upon tied business to stay in power. This is a facet of government that has not changed. The firearm industry was very large int he economically powerful region of New England. Without the continued support of such a large industry, who is to say how much actual power the fledgling American government would have wielded. In light of this, how can we possibly hope to taken the Constitution and apply with literal force the things outlined in it.

"Flexibility" has become in the world of conservative politics almost a swear word. "Flexibility" is seen as the weak alternative to a strong and strict operating procedure. "Flexibility" is seen as the undermining force in the quest for a more stable and morally secure America. However, it seems to me as if a flexible interpretation of the Constitution would be the more challenging and ultimately rewarding route. A flexible interpretation of the Constitution would challenge American politicians to find the better alternative instead of relying upon a set of antiquated guidelines. It would challenge American politicians to find a way to fit American policy (which is still bloated and weighed down by a Cold War mentality) into an increasingly efficient and globalized international community.

This post started out about gun control, and I still aim to outline my concerns on the matter in a future post. However, gun control (among a few other topics) inevitably leads me to the same conclusion: there are a few extremely profound deficiencies in not only the manner in which the American government conducts itself, but also in the mentality that surrounds the seemingly accepted interpretation of the Constitution by many conservatives. And although I'm well aware that many people have voiced similar concerns in forums much more visible than this and in a vernacular much more eloquent, I can't help but feel as if its my civic duty to express these concerns as my own as well.

Life

Life is
and
without a clear purpose
we assign value

Life is
and
despite misgivings
we quietly concede defeat

Life is
and
in the face of the unknown
we desperately crawl to comfort

Life is
and
without recollection
we silently smother ourselves

Thoughts on Graduation

Today I am graduating from high school. The profound importance of this occasion is not in any sense marred by the fact that it is being held indoors due to weather (although this might be the opinion of many of my classmates). I suppose that I should note here, with requisite nostalgia-dripped detail, how this represents an end to a section of my life that I will hold in my heart forever with fond memories. Now, I'd like to make it quite clear that I am not bitter about high school, however much so it may seem. In fact I've quite enjoyed my time spent in high school. I've made a number of good friends, found myself drawn intellectually and personally in a variety of unique of interesting directions, and found my perception of the world around me profoundly altered, for the better. Something I've always been concerned about is the manner in which knowledge seems to pass through our mind like water through a sieve, and how we so often forget what we learn soon after we have learned it. However right now that doesn't strike me as absolutely true. I cannot remember many of the equations that I learned in Chemistry AP right now. I can't remember the important principles involved in the rhetorical criticism of literature, nor can I remember the subjunctive tense in Spanish. But these are things I have learned, and the fact that I have learned these things, that at one point these things were stuck in the foremost and most prominent edge of my consciousness seems to be unalterable evidence of the importance of learning. I have learned something and because I learned something, I now see the world through a different lens. And now I may not remember exactly what I have learned, but my changed perspective is evidence of this learning, this enlightenment. And that, in my opinion is the most important aspect of education.

I don't feel that I'm writing as good as I usually do, but I felt like I needed to make a note of my thoughts on the day of my graduation.

While on Holiday...

Richard P. Feynman Would be a Great Blogger

Hey all. School is so close to being over, it's ridiculous. Allow me to impress upon you the degree to which many of my teachers have forsaken all countenance of traditional educational structure, instead opting for long games of Jeopardy and...Mel Gibson? Anyway, I attended my senior prom last night with my good friend Zak. We had fun there, although we were not overly impressed by the significance of the event which seemed, to put it delicately, like "every-other-dance-I-have-ever-attended-in-high -school". So, no I was not awestruck by a sudden influx of maturity and poise on the part of my fellow class. Such graceful tendencies were found only in a captivating (and what I found to be intellectually stimulating) conversation I had about the subject of God and the importance of faith in everyday life. It should be noted that said conversation was conducted overall waffles with ice cream at 1 o'clock in the morning. Thank God for 24/7 diners.

Last week I attended a two day over-night Orientation program at UCONN, where I will be going in the fall. the program involved activities that were designed to be two fold in nature: Attempt to explain to us the differences between high school and college (with a particular emphasis placed on the dangers of drugs, alcohol, and rape. The orientation leaders did a surprisingly good job of conveying their message without losing the attention of the majority of the group. If you understood the maturity level of many of these kids, you'd find the previous statement easier to appreciate.) The second goal of these activities was to foster intense bonds of fellowship between the students that would be attending school, living, and smoking pot together next year. I can't say how well that worked out, but what I can say is that I met some really great people while I was there, and that the volleyball team that I fell into dominated completely.

In other news, work is going well for me. This is the first Saturday since March that I have had off. I spent the day sleeping, eating, and playing video games, and I would not have had it any other way.

With the end of 4 years of high school English I am cautiously wading into the waters of personal reading. I recently finished reading this, and was completely exhilarated by both the profound genius behind the book, and the fact that I read something I wasn't assigned in English. My current reads for the summer are this and this. I find both to be quite interesting.