taken by zelda valverde

Holy Shit.

I’m convinced that my dog has a connection to something divine. Or…she is an artistic shitter.

A few years ago, I came home from school to find my dog had taken a shit on the carpet. Lucky me, I got to clean it up. Though, something was off about this turd. The shape. The Color. First of all, this shit was WHITE. Dogs don’t shit white, birds do, but not dogs. Not only was it white, but I kid you not, it was in the shape of a cross! I called my mom out of excitement and she told me to clean it up. I obeyed.

About a year later, I once again entered my house to be surprised by another miraculous poo. My dog pooped an oval. The outline of an oval. Do you know what ovals resemble? HALOS! The next day, I walk upon another poo. This time it was the outline of a fish. The kind of fish a kindergartner would draw. You know, the J-man fish? Freaky.

Recently, her talented ass gave me something else interesting to clean up. Only this time I could tell a dingle berry assisted her with this one. From what I saw, my dog took a massive dump only to have a turd stuck in her fur. In order to remove the turd, she dragged her butt on the carpet…in a pattern that resembled the Jesus fish!

Holy Shit? I think so. What are your thoughts on my dog’s shit phenomenon?

10 Songs I Listen To Religiously.

The Song: “New Clouds, Not Clouds“
The Artist: Spiral Beach
Notable Lyrics: “Just try to smile, your sound is just a style.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: It may be cliche to say this, but this song is unlike anything I have ever heard. Their use of the synthesizer will drive your mind wild. You may recognize this song from the movie Charlie Bartlett, in which they appear along with two other songs of theirs.

The Song: “Bomb”
The Artist: New Young Pony Club (NYPC)
Notable Lyrics: “Oh, oh, oh, battle was fought and won. Who took  advantage and who was defenseless?”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: This song will embed itself in your brain, and it will be stuck in your head for days. It’s so darn catchy! When it’s on, you can’t help but break out and dance along. They don’t call NYPC “new rave” for nothing!

The Song: “Homecoming”
The Artist: The Teenagers
Notable Lyrics: “On day two, I fucked her. It was wild. She’s such a slut.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: This song is strangely erotic. Unlike most artists, The Teenagers sing their songs in a “talking” style which adds to the provocative vibe of the song. The spoken and sensual lyrics are accompanied by an interesting repetitive riff.

The Song: “Healer”
The Artist: Chromatics
Notable Lyrics: “Waving, from rusted balconies.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: Ruth Radelet’s voice makes this song what it is; absolutely stunning. This song haunts you with is simple but beautiful lyrics softly sung along to what it possibly the best bass line ever.

The Song: “Vanished”
The Artist: Crystal Castles
Notable Lyrics: “The smell of your sweat, just lures me in.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: Alice Glass and Ethan Kath are a super duo who create some of the best electronic music I have come across. They commonly use a vocoder to distort the vocals, which makes this song more interesting than it already is. Even though the song is upbeat, it is soothing and puts you in a mellow mood. Lay back, and enjoy the beat.

The Song: “Lullaby”
The Artist: The Cure
Notable Lyrics: “Don’t struggle like that, or I will only love you more.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: It should be apparent that this is my favorite Cure song. In fact, the title of this very blog comes from this song. A majority of this song is whispered in a sultry voice by Robert Smith. This song, although it has a dark subject matter, is very relaxing.

The Song: “Ancient Curse”
The Artist: Peter, Bjorn, and John
Notable Lyrics: “Don’t get me wrong now, but we were doomed from the start.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: I could listen to the song on repeat, and never get sick of it. Peter, Bjorn, and John are one of the many wonder bands to emerge from Sweden. The haunting melody alone makes me love this song. Though, the lyrics are my favorite part. I feel like I can relate to this song.

The Song: “I Know I’ll See You”
The Artist: A Place To Bury Strangers
Notable Lyrics: “Holding dear the last breath in my lungs.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: While their music is bordering along the line of noise, there is something appealing about their songs; this song in particular. This song never fails to send shivers down my spine. They make New York City proud.

The Song: “Future Primitive”
The Artist: The Papercuts
Notable Lyrics: “Well we cross the river once, and we’ll do it once again. The valley will open, and the mountains fall to their knees.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: This song has some of the most beautiful lyrics. The lyrics are stunning. In fact, most of their songs are beautiful. It’s shocking that this band hasn’t merged onto the mainstream scene.

The Song: “Magic”
The Artist: Ladyhawke
Notable Lyrics: “One life here with me and it’s magic.”

Why This Song Appeals To Me: The title of the song might as well be the best definition to describe it. Magic. This song was love at first listen. This song is so catchy, you can’t help but sing along (that is, if you know the lyrics). Ladyhawke has several amazing songs, but this song of hers is by far the best.

Reefer Madness: The Pathetic War On Drugs.

I was sitting and staring at my computer screen for a long while, and decided to do something more constructive with my time. I thought, “I could write about something I’m passionate about. What am I passionate about? Hmm, marijuana.”

For decades now, the government has been involved in a “War on Drugs.” For decades now, they have failed miserably. Their cause would be valid if they weren’t opposing one of the most harmless plants on the planet. You probably know what magical herb I’m speaking of; Marijuana.

Speaking from a high school student’s perspective, it’s not difficult to obtain weed. I’d say roughly 1/4 of the students in my suburban school toke up, which leaves a plethora of sources to obtain marijuana. Even for those that don’t attend a high school, it’s still relatively easy to find a dealer. I’ve known somebody who simply browsed Craigslist, and found herself a pot hookup. The War on Drugs has not affected the access to marijuana.

One thing that is painfully obvious about marijuana is that it’s safe compared to many other drugs and alcohol. The total death count due to marijuana to this day remains zero, while alcohol consumption is responsible for 35,000 deaths each year in America alone. This toll doesn’t even include deaths occurring from driving while under the influence. Smoking tobacco is far worse than smoking marijuana. Scientists haven’t been able to find a link between smoking marijuana and lung cancer, while smoking cigarettes on the other hand is the biggest cause of lung cancer. If anything, marijuana does more to benefit in the medical field than it does harm. Lately, we’ve been aware of marijuana’s medical influence; easing chronic pain, relieving anxiety, and so much more. At the moment, thirteen states allow the use of medical marijuana.

My favorite about marijuana is the incredible feeling that comes along with being high. Often, you get a tingling sensation that is very enjoyable. Nearly everything is hilarious; as if it were the funniest thing you’ve heard in your entire life. Mundane and menial tasks become more bearable. I become much more creative, and interesting thoughts and ideas flow through me. When you’re stoned, you come to appreciate food, and music more. When I’m high, my worries are carried away. For those moments, I’m carefree (as long as you don’t get paranoid). The only moment that matters is current moment. Your worst case scenario: you get motion sickness from swaying so much. Though, that’s highly unlikely.

By the way, I was stoned while writing this. Obviously, marijuana doesn’t impair my ability to function.

Enjoy some other neat marijuana-related articles:
http://www.doublex.com/section/health-science/why-i-give-my-9-year-old-pot
http://angryape.com/news/jason-mraz-backs-the-legalization-of-marijuana

Half Jack.

Last week, I was having one of my depression episodes that carried on over from the weekend. After coming to school Monday, I was far too emotional to be functional. I stayed home the following day. Typically, I am most inspired when I’m depressed, so I used it to my advantage when I wrote this short story. This was inspired by the song “Half Jack” by the Dresden Dolls.

I wrote this in an hour or two, so it probably holds a few mistakes. Let me know if you have any suggestions for improvements.

The year was 1840. Jezebel laid in bed, writhing in pain. Her dark hair appeared unkept. Sweat dripped from the pores of her fair skin. Tears fell from her light eyes. She had to be held down, for the pain was driving her mad. Her breathing was quick and irregular. Her screams of agony awakened the residents of the manor; they grabbed their robes and ran upstairs to witness the commotion. A new sound was added to the cacophony, high-pitched wailing. Jezebel mumbled “Jack” before she was silenced forever.

“Jack!” Eleanor shouted impatiently, “Load my bags into the carriage, won’t you?”
“Yes Aunt Eleanor.” The year was 1856. Sixteen years had passed since Jezebel’s death. Sixteen years had passed since Jack was born.
Jack was kept in isolation, hidden from the world inside the unkept manor. The residents who lived there sixteen years ago had all moved on. The only people who still resided there and raised him were his Aunt Eleanor and his Uncle Arthur, both of whom showed little affection towards Jack. Jack knew little about his father. Eleanor and Arthur refused to tell him what became of him, only that he was “mad”.
Jack, despite neglect from his Aunt and Uncle, was well educated. At a young age he taught himself to read. Since then, reading has been his only escape from a life of solitude. It was through books that he could venture outside, into imaginary worlds, into adventure; something his life lacked.
The manor had a library which was filled with several books. Jack’s Uncle was a surgeon, and kept many books with various procedures in the library. It wasn’t long before Jack got ahold of these books, and when he did, he began developing a curious fascination towards surgical procedures. He studied the procedures intently, memorizing them for a day when they would prove useful.

For the first time in a long while, he had the manor to himself. Eleanor and Arthur left to attend the funeral of a friend many miles away. He had approximately sixteen days to himself. He decided to take advantage of his aunt and uncle’s absence.
He put on his best clothes, which were the least tattered. He combed back his greasy hair. Laced his worn leather shoes and preceded to step outside for the first time in long while.
Jack has seen the sun before, but only through the veil of closed curtains. On some days, miniscule rays of light would pierce the veil, and brighten his room. Though, this time was different. This time the sun was blinding. Instinctively, Jack raised his hand to his face to shield his eyes from the overbearing light, until his eyes adjusted.
He began walking down the winding dirt road, unsure of where he was going. Onward he walked, eventually reaching a cobblestone path to the town center. What he saw there was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. People. Countless amounts of people. People in hats. People in coats. People covered in make-up. Young people. Old people. Middle-aged people. People.

A curious smiled crept onto his face. He observed people from afar. One woman caught his eye. She sparked a certain emotion in him. She had fair skin, dark hair, light eyes, and was clad in dress slightly more revealing than the surrounding women. He approached her cautiously. Unsure of what to say, he cleared his throat. His desire turned around. “Yes?” she spoke in a soft voice.
“M-m-may I take you home?”
“Seventy-five shillings.”
“Excuse me?,” said Jack, perplexed as to why he was being charged.
“My services cost seventy-five shillings.”
“Right, well I have left all my coins at home.”
Jack realized what this woman was. He had read about women like her in books. She was a harlot. She made a living by sleeping with men.

The woman followed Jack home quietly as he led the way to the manor. When they arrived he led her to his uncle’s office. He motioned for her to sit and stay.
In the next room, Jack foraged his uncle’s cabinets grabbing various tools, chloroform, a glass jar, and restraints.
“Lay down and close your eyes,” he said to the disrobed harlot, and so she did. “Relax,” he whispered as he bound her to the operating table. The harlot mistook his actions for that of masochist, and thought nothing of it until he held the bottle of chloroform under her nose. “Inhale.” The harlot began to squirm, trying to free herself of the restraints. No such luck. She felt herself growing more tired by the second. A dizzy spell overtook her, and she lay unconscious.
Jack was ready to satisfy his morbid curiosity; surgery. Jack took a scalpel, making careful incisions, referring to the medical books he had memorized. He cut away several layers of skin before he revealed the rib cage, which enclosed the heart of the harlot. He removed the heart and carefully place it in the glass jar, then stitched up the harlot who was silenced forever.
Satisfied, he cleaned up the mess. He took the harlot’s body to the cellar and left her remains there. As for the jar that contained her heart, he placed it on his nightstand. For Jack, this was the closest thing to love, that he had ever received.

The next day, Jack desired the thrill once again. He got dressed, went into town, picked a harlot, and arrived back at the manor to perform the same procedure to the unsuspecting harlot. He disposed of her body the same way as the other, and added another heart filled jar to his nightstand. Jack continued this routine for fourteen days; attempting to fulfill his morbid desire. By the end of the sixteenth day to himself, sixteen harlots lay dead in his cellar, sixteen jarred hearts sit on his nightstand, and sixteen acts of murder begin to overcome Jack with guilt.
Eleanor and Arthur arrived at the manor and were greeted with an unbearable stench. The stench of death. Curious, they followed the odor to discover the source. They followed the foul odor to the cellar. His aunt and uncle found Jack weeping amidst sixteen corpses. Sixteen corpses; one for each year of loneliness. One for each year he spent without love. Sixteen years of solitude was enough to drive a boy to madness.

Eleanor and Arthur committed Jack to an asylum. Jack was placed in the same cell with a middle-aged man. The man had several similar facial characteristics as Jack, to the point where it was unnerving. Curiosity arose.
“What’s your name?” Jack asked.
“Jack.”
“How old are you, Jack?”
“Sixteen.”

It was obvious this middle-aged man wasn’t sixteen. Though, one thing was obvious; this man was “mad”.

Flawed Academic System?

I’m only seventeen, what do I know?

I know that I am currently failing several classes. My frustrated mom called me earlier, “I got an e-mail, you’re failing some classes.”

She expected an explanation, and I gave her none. My explanation would only be an excuse. As the authority figure, my mom won’t tolerate any excuses. Therefore, no explanation is better then one. Though, that’s beside the point.

The point is, perhaps our academic system is flawed. Perhaps the way academics are measure is flawed.

According to my district, I am currently making three “F’s” (my three failing grades are in the sixties.)

Does this mean that I am not intelligent? Does this mean that I’m not driven?

I must admit, my drive has slowly declined over the year. The reason for this decline; I have had several epiphany’s about education. Much like the same way my mother is intolerant of my excuses, I’m intolerant of the structure of my school. I’m intolerant of things I am forced to learn, and I’m intolerant of the uniform methods that are far from my tastes. For these reasons, I am not as driven as I used to be. That is the primary reason for my slipping grades.

What exactly do I mean? I simply don’t agree with the over-structured way we’re being taught. There is little room for creativity, and imagination; thus little room for originality.

For example, I could write an incredible, thought-provoking essay. Though, it could a receive a failing grade because it didn’t follow the precise structure.  If we continue this trend, generations to come will be completely stripped of originality, which would result in less contributions to society (fewer inventions, fewer artworks, fewer novels, ect.)

Also, we aren’t being taught the right aspects. We aren’t taught to appreciate literary works. Instead, we’re taught to over-analyze novels to the point where the work has lost it’s meaning. What was once a wonderful literary piece of art in the end has become dissected fragments of a shattered novel.

Perhaps I’m merely being a stubborn teenager? Perhaps it’s deeper than that. Perhaps, i’m using the word perhaps far too much? Perhaps, it’s a combination of the first two.

My conclusion: I’m incompatible with the academic system, but I won’t let my grade point average define my intelligence.

What are your opinions on the public school system?