Moufflets - All that's right, mostly wrong, and funny about the world.

2011 04 19 Meeting

2011-04-19T12:08:00.000-07:00

Congratulations RIMA and ROSALYN on being elected next year's Co-Presidents!

Thank you for everyone who is running for a position and gave speeches today. The officers will be meeting over the weekend to discuss applications, and we will announce next year's officer team next week, so don't msis out.

Wordpressed

2008-09-04T20:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, despite mostly apathetic but slightly opposing demand, I have decided to move to WordPress.

You can now find everything that's right, mostly wrong, and funny about the world at the following location:

http://moufflets.wordpress.com

Sorry for the inconvenience!

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Should some aspiring blogger happen to want this domain name, please leave an appropriate comment and we'll discuss things over.

Negligence or Otherwise

2008-09-03T17:53:00.000-07:00

School having started on Tuesday, they naturally sent back a bunch of paperwork. Among them were the usual release forms.

Of course no one likes to be sued, understandably, but after taking the time actually read one of these bueauracraticspeech documents, I found this passage:

"I agree that under no circumstances will he/she or his/her heirs, executors, administrators and assigns prosecute, present any claim for personal injury, property damage, or wrongful death against said school or any of its officers, agents, or employees for any of said causes of action, whether the same shall arise by the negligence of any said persons, or otherwise."

"...shall arise by the negligence of any said persons or otherwise."

"Or otherwise" !?! What's that supposed to mean? Otherwise can mean a lot of things - among them deliberate and premeditated homicide.

So by signing this form, I am releasing my school to harm me at their leisure while I am doing said activity, and should they do so, I no longer have the right to seek reimbursement. Tell me if this is just wrong?

--
Inspired by my parents, of all people, who refused to sign any more release forms because they wanted to school to be liable for at least something.

Humor-blogs.

Camp Stories

2008-08-31T15:14:00.000-07:00

A lot of things have happened during my six days of music camp, not all of it having to do with making a "box of wood vibrate".

Let's start with the bathrooms.

Very interesting conversations occur in the restroom. While on the toilets, some guys will play a game known as "Would you Rather...", usually comparing girls and discussing their pros and cons.

Furthermore, while in the shower, men are not so manly. I was sitting in my cabin one night, and all of a sudden, hysterical screaming erupts and two juniors run out of the shower room - one with a toothbrush in his mouth and one with only his boxers on (nothing to worry, since as one guy said, also in the shower, "most guy's boxers are longer than most girl's shorts").

"Oh my god!" "AHHHH!" "AHHH!" "AHHHHH!"

Naturally, we all ask what happens.

"There's a fricken huge lizard in there!" Turns out, the lizard isn't all that big, but they freak out anyways. The three guys are in the showers are standing half in and half out, trying to kill the thing. One attempts to give the thing poisoning by covering it with his shampoo. Every time the lizard moves, they jump and scream! Sometime later, they finally killed it, and left it in two pieces under a trash can.

Then there was more faux-homosexuality, with several peeking-toms in the showers and some in the cabins.

Also, we experienced some aromatic issues at camp. When you spend your entire day in your shoes in an unbelievably dusty environment, things tend to start smelling.

However, some people forgot to pack some air-freshener, so they resorted to what they thought was the next best thing: Axe.

Now Axe is a type of deodorant advertised as some kind of spray-on love charm that will attract women. However, the majority of women do not like the smell of Axe, nor do a large number of men. Axe used as an air-freshener results in a smell quite similar to Axe+__odor__, which will become quite unbearable. In the case of Axe+flatulence, not only will the smell be unbearable, it will in fact become quite lethal. You wouldn't want to do anything that might cause a spark anywhere near the scene of the smell.

Pranks. I would love to say that I have amazing and sadistic prank stories to tell, but I sadly I have none, partly because I'm not a senior yet and because I'm just so nice. The only thing I did was help duct tape some freshies' stuff to the ceiling. So sorry folks.

Foosball. We have become addicted to foosball over the course of several days. We wake up to foosball, we have foosball for lunch, and we have foosball for dinner. Can't get enough of it. And please, no spinning - for the sake of the table at the very least.

Feet. Don't forget to bring your own masseuse. Standing takes a lot out of you, and sitting crosslegged is one of the most awkward positions in the world. And band thinks that just because they have march they work harder.

That's it for now. Check back soon for more, maybe...

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Spray little Axe, add a little fart, light a match and BOOM! Humor-blogs.

A Dose of Drama

2008-08-22T22:17:00.001-07:00

I am afraid to say that I have been watching a drama show. Corner With Love on Channel 18 LA.

Oh the hypocrisy! Of course, I can try to redeem myself. Afterall, I did need a dose of drama in my life. I've just been doing mindless things like Counter-Strike and Warcraft III when I should be trying to plug in the rather large holes in my Algebra 2 knowledge.

And it's not like I'm addicted to the show anyways. I was just trying to analyze it's crappy transitions and advertisement butchering. They do have funny sound effects at the right moment though.

I've also realized that it takes a great deal of patience to watch one of these shows. There were so many flashbacks that you'd think the producers were nostalgic. Of course, it might be some profit-maximizing technique. Recycling scenes - very environmental friendly. I also had to resist the urge to strangle some of the characters for obvious stupidity, as well as this one character who had this uber-annoying naive and nagging voice.

To it's credit however, my parents noted that they were actually incorrect in predicting the outcome of the story. The main character's dad was missing for the whole part of the story, and my parents were placing bets that he was the character's lover or was some wealthy man who would suddenly make the character rich. Wrong.

See? I'm not really a hypocrite afterall.

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I will be gone for a week at some hidden music camp. Visit Humor-blogs while I'm gone.

Making the Move

2008-08-20T08:18:00.000-07:00

I have been contemplating about moving my blog to WordPress. What do you guys think?

So are you gay or not?

2008-08-12T08:29:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a recent trend that's been occurring around my school: faux-homosexuality.

At least I think it's fake. It seems mainly afflict the male gender. Many of them will go around making homosexual remarks and do things to each other that no self-respecting heterosexual male would do.

All one needs to do is just take a few looks at some Facebook examples. It's like some of my friends are Borat come to life.

But for some ironic reason, people who do this usually will never admit that they truly are gay. And even the truly gay people don't go to this kind of extreme, I don't think.

Maybe it's just that longing to try the other side, I don't know. But whatever it is, it's pretty disrespectful to gay people as well as self-degrading.

So to my friends, unless you really are homosexual, you really shouldn't fake it.

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Humor-blogs, anyone?

Olympic Magic

2008-08-08T21:24:00.001-07:00

I have finally watched some of NBC's sliced, diced, edited, and narrated monoply broadcast of the 2008 Olympics Opening Ceremony in Beijing.

I must say, it is an impressive display of coordination, fat wallets, gunpowder, subtle military might, and buried communism.

My mom, however, was beyond impressed. She was screaming, both in delight and at my dad to record the show. "Oh my goodness." She said it "was the best show in 5,000 years" and that "no other country can beat this".

Larry Niven wrote that "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." My mom must have thought Beijing was Walt Disney's wonderful world of magic.

Of course, it was my job to bring her back down to earth and tell her that is in fact very possible for another country to do just as well. It is merely a matter of whether or not the country's government is willing to undertake such a task. It is even possible for future Olympics to surpass this year's, since they would know just how far they would need to go. Afterall, competition is how the world gets better.

Following more reminders of how important it is to learn Chinese, my mom also said that Jackie Chan was writing a song and that he was very patriotic, unlike me. This is proves how very ignorant she is. Jackie Chan is very patriotic. However, he is a Chinese citizen*. I am an American citizen, despite being of Chinese heritage, and if I was patriotic towards China, then I would be committing treason, which is the highest offense and punishable by death.

But enough for now. I'll go enjoy the rest of the opening ceremonies and try to ignore the human rights crises of China.

the Balance of Power

2008-08-07T22:42:00.000-07:00

This is terrible. Ever since my brother got that new-fangled laptop of his that ought to be mine, the balance of power in my house has shifted.

Before, for he need to go through me to go get access to games and movies. Why? Because his computer wasn't connected to the Internet for some reason that my parents never decided the amend.

But now he has more or less free reign, using his newfound mobility to go download such books such as Breaking Dawn from some unknown source because our parents wouldn't by the cheesy romance for him.

What do I do now? This is terrible.

Final Destination

2008-07-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

I have been cheating death, I think.

First, there was that 5.4 earthquake here in southern California.

Following the earthquake, the school found a gas leak. Apparently, our class somehow missed the call to evacuate the buildings and move to the field. I think it was because some very heated discussion about Christian Bale or Bail what's his face and whether or not he was bad man for abusing his mom and sister. Whatever the case, it really brought out the rage from the girls.

Then when I was riding home, I somehow found myself in front of my bike. Thing was, I didn't get there in the orthodox way, such as by getting off the bike and walking around. Instead, I somehow gone over my handlebars, crashing into more or less everything along the way. In the end, my groin felt like the Balls of Fury. I walked for a block before daring to get back on the bike.

Later, during tennis, I almost tore my pink off with my watch in some clumsy maneuver and gave myself a dead leg while serving.

Today was definitely not a good day.

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Bad day like me? Cheer up at Humor-blogs.

WALL-E

2008-07-20T20:47:00.000-07:00

So yesterday I went to the the theater to watch WALL-E with my cousins, neighbor, and brother.

According to a friend who quoted another person, "WALL-E is cute but has no plot."

I beg to differ, at least from the second part. WALL-E was "cute", and there were some pretty hilarious moments where you can't help but laugh.

However, there's something deeper to the movie than just it's spectacular graphics and animation.

Perhaps the movie will lend some thought to attempting to save the Earth's environment. It might just happen - our world will be filled with mountains of junk. In WALL-E, the entire Earth is surrounded by a perpetual layer of assorted space junk. So pick up your trash.

Then there's the question of obesity. In the future, everyone is fat. They can't get around anywhere without going in an automatic, motorized comfort chair. Even babies start their lives in hovercribs. All they have to do to get something to eat is snap their hands and some robot will deliver. They don't even know that their luxury space liner has a running track. In fact, their jaw muscles are probably not much stronger than their hearts. No chewing involved when your cupcakes come in cup.

Not only are they fat, but they are illiterate. If they want something defined, it has to be by pictures and video clips. All instructions are accompanied by graphics. And when it comes to the point where an Earthling doesn't even know what Earth is, then ... well, I don't really know what to say - I've already used up Bush's No Child Left Behind act once, so I'll just stick with the classic "all hope is lost".

Jack of All Trades

2008-07-17T07:46:00.001-07:00

Some people might consider me talented. I can cave paint and play the violin. I can also play tennis and achieve a decent mile time. I can sometimes pull of an A without studying. Give me a computer and I could find my way around it, virtually or otherwise, and I can write a blog.

But while I perform all of these things, and possibly perform some of them well, I am not extremely good at any of them. I'm never going to be a Monet or van Gogh, even after I've died, whether by suicide or otherwise. My musical skills are probably never going to be among the likes of Mozart or Beethoven. My tennis skills are inconsistant at best, and my mile time isn't exactly enough evidence of a star athlete in the making. Heck, my grades don't even live up to the lowest standards of Asians, especially in math. I may know computers well, but when it comes down to the nuts and bolts I'm clueless. As for my blog, well, you be the judge, but my page views don't skyrocket*, nor can I make a living off of it.

According to my mom, I need to find something I like and be good at it, becuase colleges don't want a well-rounded person. Apparently, they want someone with a rounded bottom and pointy tip, although more than one tip doesn't hurt. I suppose if I really tried I could become the equivalent of a Jack-in-the-Box.

But being as lazy, although the preferred term is efficient, as I am, it's really hard for me to put effort into something. Nor can I really choose which area because I all like them equally - which can be alot if I'm doing well, or not very much if I'm not doing well. It fluctuates alot with me. I also have a time devotion issue. I like to play the violin, but after playing everything once, twice, or thrice through, I get bored and no longer want to play it for the day - so where as I should practice for an hour, I get in twenty minutes, or if I'm really diligent thirty minutes.

I really got to shape up. When I'll do it, I don't have the answers - ask yourselve.

*According to Google Analytics, my highest visits for a single day was 19 visits.

One thing you guys can be really good at is visiting Humor-blogs for me.

System Error

2008-07-13T19:05:00.001-07:00

This is most disturbing news. So we got a new computer, right? Only the computer went to my brother. My little brother. I believed that this was blasphemy, so I proceeded to initiate Plan A - convince my parents that I should get the laptop.

The reasons ranged from needing the processing speed to photoshop some of our less glamorous pictures from Canada, the post of which I must still complete to being able to compile tiny Java source codes two milliseconds faster for school. My current computer has a history of crashing - just because it isn't screwed up right now doesn't mean it won't crash again. And since I'm taking a computer programming class - I can't afford to let it crash.

I can use the computer to its fullest potential - believe me, I will.

My brother will more likely get a virus on his computer.

Also, I'm the older brother. I should get the best things first. Some people may argue against that, but hey, that age old tradition (why break it?) works out for me. You're not supposed to die faster for nothing, right?

Then I tried working on pity. I told my mom, "You kept emailing me about whether we should get this or get that ... you lead me to believe that I was going to get the computer, but you let me down. *tear." "And I'm also feeling discouraged right now." (She said she got it for him to 'encourage him'.)

Righteousness. Everything my brother uses is mine. MINE MINE MINE. All his games, all his limited computer skills - MINE! And he doesn't think he owes me a thing! I may be selfish, but that's natural. Ingrates should not be rewarded!

But despite a compilation that would have done a Speech and Debater proud, still no go. Time for Plan B - a little exercise in economy.

So I decided to withhold until further notice all my software. At first, that thankless wench wouldn't even let me uninstall MY software. But he changed his mind after a short lesson in one-sided wrestling, if you know what I mean. But dang, his teeth were getting a bit long. I think he needs to cut them.

That's not even the end of it, though. As soon as I uninstalled the things, the persona non grata takes the new laptop and downloads a game I just installed from the Internet. I knew I should I have neutralized that threat, first. What an ass. Knowledge apparently is power.

So feel free to judge me, but first ask yourself if you can resist new technology. I sure as heck can't, and my conscience ain't telling me a thing. Tips on how to get what ought to be mine back will be appreciated.

--
Empathy or sympathy? Go over to Humor-blogs.

What Time is It?

2008-07-08T20:54:00.000-07:00

I've never imagined at a history class could possibly turn into a class on philosophy. I mean sure, we're studying the Development of Western Civilization, which includes the Greeks, but philosophy? That was a surprise.

So anyways, we started talking about time. What is time? At first we were like, what kind of a question is that? And as we thought about it, we realized that we couldn't quite describe time. Feel free to try it yourself.

Then we went on a tangent for a little bit, discussing Einstein and Faster Than Light travel and its implications on time. As one student put it, "So I'm like ten and I do that travel thingy and then I come back I'm twenty and everyone's dead?" I guess so.

Back onto the subject of time, we started asking other questions. What is the past? Does the past exist? Is it only a perception of the mind? If it is, does the past exist say, on Pluto, seeing as there are no humans there? What about the future? Does the future exist? Is it preplanned?

Question after question. "The unanswered life is not worth living." Maybe so, but sometimes I think people ask one too many questions.

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Philosophy can be bad for you health, but a little Humor-blogs is the best medicine.

Apologies

2008-06-28T20:57:00.000-07:00

Sorry about not writing a post for what, over two weeks?

First there was a vacation to our Canuck neighbors to the north, of which a post is currently being written.

However, that aforementioned post cannot be completed because I have been getting all traces of my video game abstinence from the last school quarter out of my system.

After that, there's summer school. Never in my life have I seen so much homework from summer school. I'm taking Development of Western Civilization Honors. This class is designed by administrators in order to trap Asian students looking for more "Honors" classes. First off, it's not really an honors class. It's only "an honors class for departmental purposes", whatever that's supposed to mean. Then it's the easiest honors class to get into. As long as your pass the measly requirements, you're in - no questions asked. But the work disproportional. 92 makes an A. 91 makes a B. There is a quiz or test every single day, and we have to do these five-hour long optional notes for 1% of extra credit at the end of the term. We also have these seminars everyday where we have pretend to be knowledgeable and discuss things while sitting in a circle.

But that's not the end of it. There's some violin recital thing coming up, and I'm screwed. I can't even play my solo correctly and when I combined it the piano accompaniment, well, I wouldn't exactly call it glass shattering but it's far from decent. And I hate rests, by the way. I'm always either too early or too late, and I never seemed able to count up to four properly, even when using my fingers.

Violin Concerto No. 3 in G Major by W.A. Mozart - my piece.
I wish I could play like that.

Finally, my computer crashed. It has been getting the Blue Screen of Death quite a lot lately. The failures occur more and more quickly than the last times it happened until finally, I cannot even finish reformatting my computer without getting BSoD. Of course, this could be blessing in disguise, because it may possibly get me a new computer. =]

So, please accept my apologies. And have a happy Fourth of July.
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Apology accepted? Let Humor-blogs know.

No Greener Side

2008-06-12T00:16:00.000-07:00

People say it's always greener on the other side. Not really. It's just as yellow over there as it is over here. My life is either moderately miserable or very miserable. In fact, it's miserable so much that I'm happy when it's only a little bit miserable. Which is why it's hard for me to feel down for any length of time. If I fail a test, I mope, I weep, I fume, I blog. In another day or so, I'm perfectly back to status quo: plain old miserable.

School is ending. Most people should feel some kind of elation. I don't, because I'll be as miserable as I am now, only for a different reason.

When I'm at school, I hate the work and I want school to end. School ends. I go on vacation, and I hate the picture taking and walking and what to come home. I come home, and summer becomes quite boring, and I want school to start so I can see what little "friends" I have. School starts, I tire of the "friends", and I want school to end. Rinse and repeat.

But don't let my chronic misrableness get to you. It's bad for the health. Go and do something fun that you want to have go on forever. School's out!!!

P.S.: I will be going on a miserable vacation to Canada. Hopefully, the dollar doesn't get any smaller when I get there. Don't expect any new blogs for the next week or so, but feel free to stop by and reread some stale ones.

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Laughter is the best medicine. Head over to Humor-blogs for a healthy dose.

A Different Kind of Graduation

2008-06-08T13:04:00.000-07:00

It's the end of the Chinese school year, and what's more fitting than a giant, time-wasting ceremony to top it off?

We had to arrive thirty minutes earlier usual supposedly to get our seats. Well, I grumbled and mumbled and showed up at 8:30 in the rather early morning. We went into the auditorium and plopped down somewhere in the middle. And sat. And sat. Until 9:00, finally things started happening.

First on the agenda was the pathetic excuse for a symphony orchestra. Let's start with the conductor. He listens to some piece of music, which is probably copyrighted by the way, and then writes out the notes. Then he does a little arranging with the final result leaving the second violins with the melody. And finally, when he conducts, he sings along! The rest of the orchestra is composed of whoever is gullible enough to participate, although there was a half decent first chair violinist, but he still needed to work on his shifts. The last first violin was a bit too timid, the second violin's bowing out of sync, and the trumpet made some odd noises usually associated with flatulence. Their performance thankfully ended with the loud death of a bovine.

Following the orchestra was some video of the Chinese school's university somewhere out there. The idiot manning the spotlight decided to let the beam rest on the screen, making it nearly impossible to discern what was happening. Then another idiot controlling the sound system either muted the audio and created some very inharmonious feedback.

Then came the graduates, complete in their shiny metallic ponchos that passed for a graduation robe. Pieces of paper, probably diplomas for what they're worth, and pollen-leaking flowers were handed out to the leaving students.

When the graduates left, a special ed group of students dressed in bathrobes came on stage and began can be best described as when teacher's pets begin experiencing a lack of drama in their lives and must thus dramatize everything. A glazed look comes over their eyes and they move in awkward, lumbering movements. When they speak, they somehow butcher the words and must move their entire heads back and forth. They are also quite gullible. One of them will shout "Look!" and point into some point above our heads and the rest of them will follow. Haha, made you look!

Then we have more awards and a slide show of a bunch of adults with their mug shots. Every so often, some of them will have their picture of Buddha. I assume that this indicates that the individual has gone to a better place where they sit on lotuses and deform their earlobes. An award was passed out for Best Improvement, which can quite easily be won by failing all your tests first semester and then "suddenly improve" in the second semester.

There was also a time when we saw the karate students strut their stuff. They did some very simple kicks and made noises that made me wonder if they didn't practice while squatting on top of a toilet. After the constipation example, some other students showed some fighting moves which involve the enemy grunting and then standing still. I don't want to see choreographed combat! I want to see some blood gladiator style! Finally, there was some board kicking. When the ceremony had ended, I got a chance to examine the boards. They were broken with the grain, and there was evidence of the gluing of boards together. The fracture lines were rather clean, too. Suspicious.

Then the ceremony was ended by much barbaric voodoo dancing among other things, during which the aforementioned special ed people demonstrated their lack of situational awareness. Despite having in their hand the object known as a microphone, the proceeded to shout at the top of their lungs to make themselves heard, and when they were done screaming, laid the still active microphone on the stage. And when the stage happens to contain a bunch of shuffling munchkins about to perform some silly dance, well, lets just say that it wasn't very quiet nor pleasant.

And the end.

--
One more thing! Uncle say go to Humor-blogs!

OCB Banquet

2008-06-06T20:43:00.001-07:00

Well, today was the annual Orchestra - Colorguard - and Band Banquet. I must say that this wasn't the most fabulous party of all time.

The horror of it all begins earlier that day with my orchestra direction instructing us that the event was "dressy casual." Dressy casual, eh? I went to school believing that I had dressed "dressy casual." Apparently, I hadn't, so I had to drive home and put on a polo.

Upon arriving at school, I met a girl who exclaimed, "You're going in that!?!" Whoops, not so good. She explained that it was "semi-formal." There's a world of difference between "dressy casual" and "semi-formal"; to me, they mean "casual" but not crap and dress shirt and pants, respectively. So I escorted her to the band restroom (which despite being music students isn't as clean as normal restrooms) so that she could change into some sparkly pink dress while calling my dad to bring me my orchestra outfit seeing as I had no other "semi-formal" outfit. He wasn't too happy - looks like this banquet was going to cost three dollars in gas.

Having decked out in the proper attire, I made my grand entrance to the banquet. Sadly, there were no trumpeters from the band to announce my presence. Oh well. Following a wait in a fairly long line, I began to near the buffet. There seemed to be some kind of pasta, a couple rolls, a salad, and some semi-melted desserts. I began to worry, for I saw no evidence of meat.

Some lady piled some weird cheese pasta onto my dish. Suspicions confirmed: no meat. Ironically, a guy farther down the line was calling out, "Vegetarian here!" That's kind of pointless. Isn't the whole meal vegan?

I ate my meal, picking apart the vegan mess while complaining to any who cared to listen about the lack of meat. I paid eight United States greenbacks for this! Maybe if they spent less on the DJ and more on the food we could have some meat. I need my meat three times a day+, seven days a week, twelve months a year. And that's just the bare minimum or else m hands start shaking and my vision goes double. Then I saw some sort of wrinkly mass on my plate. Could it be? I speared it with my fork. It sure looked like chicken. I placed it in my mouth and immediately burst into tears. Meat! There was actually some sort of meat! Chicken ain't all that great, but it's better than nothing. After my little euphoria had subsided however, I continued to wander around and spread my sad tale of a meatless dinner.

Then it was the awards ceremony. Blah blah blah, some guy in front of us was quite the obnoxious. Kept screaming and hugging his buddies and conceitedly complimenting himself on how he made band fun, although to his credit he actually started more than one round of applauses. Simultaneously, there was some guy from percussion clapping rather loudly. It was like he was trying to make one hand go through the other or something. What was a percussionist doing here anyways? I remember quite clearly that this was an OCB Banquet; not OCBP.

On a final note, I must say that band enjoys overkilling their tradition. They have to pass down binders and unread books, give necklaces (who knows where it's been), and so on. On the other hand, orchestra sure enjoys making ties. We have co-presidents, co-seceretaries, co-treasurers, and co-historians. Heck, we even have co-teachers.

But above all, I've had a wonderful time with orchestra, band, and colorguard. Just try to get more meat in the banquet next time.

--
Feel my pain? Cheer me up by cheering yourself up at Humor-blogs.

ShakespeareanTragedy

2008-06-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

For all my blog writing, I cannot seem to write an analytical paragraph in English Honors for moufflets.

We had ten paragraphs to write about Romeo and Juliet. Each was out of fifty points.

Paragraph #1: 37/50 - C
Oh well. I'll do better next time.

Paragraph #2: 37/50 - C
Hmm. This stinks. Third time will be the charm.

Paragraph #3: 37/50 - C
Okay. This isn't funny.

Paragraph #4: N/A
This was a rather good one, but apparently I forgot to turn it in to Turnitin.com. O I am Fortune's fool. Oh well. At least I improved, right?

Paragraph #5: 37/50 - C
What the hey! I didn't improve at all! You're kidding me! What the bloody hey do you mean by analyzed? What's there to analyze! And it's not speculating. It's flipping obvious. Anyone with the tiniest shred of common sense would be able to tell! Are you so stupid that I have to explain!

Paragraph #6: 40/50 - B
Well that's a change. Maybe I'll get an A next time. B's aren't good enough for me.

Paragraph #7: 37/50 - C
This is getting really discouraging. I tried really, really hard not to speculate and analyzed and explained everything, or so I thought. Maybe the teacher has something against me. Everyone else is doing better. Maybe I really am a failure.

Paragraph #8: 39/50 - C
We wrote this one in class, and the teacher graded easier. Some people said a lot easier. Well, gee that makes me feel a lot better. On the other hand, I did write something that usually takes over a day in less than an hour. We have to self analyze this. It's probably officially hopeless now. No way of pulling off an A this semester. And to think I actually went against my motto of being efficient for these stupid things. More depression...woe is me...

Paragraph #9: 41/50 - B
I have come across a very important discovery. English paragraphs do not follow the laws of physics!. The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy is neither created nor destroyed. When doing work, the energy you put into it is turned into a state of energy known as a grade. The more energy applied the greater the grade. However, where English is concerned, even if you put a very large amount of energy into a paragraph, you still end up with a rather low grade. I spent a quarter of an Earth rotation only to get a B minus!

Paragraph #10: 40/50 - B
Conclusive evidence that English defy physics. I stayed up until twelve o'clock in order to write 356 words, and I only get an eighty percent!?! This is ridiculous!

Bet even Shakespeare himself couldn't write a story of more woe than the one I'm facing right now. On the other hand, he did cause my piteous overthrows.

--
If you are experiencing schadenfreude, feel free to go over to Humor-blogs and laugh some more.

Fineritis

2008-06-06T07:20:00.000-07:00

Shortly after being diagnosed with Selective Memory Loss, I discovered I had fineritis.

What is Fineritis?
Fineritis (fin-ne-RY-tis) is a disease related to senioritis. It's nomenclature includes the Greek root fin, which means end. Accordingly, fineritis a condition that afflicts people towards the end of things, such as the end of a school year, causing them to be rather lazy and carefree. Although not as serious as senioritis, fineritis can still be quite hazardous to one's grade, especially before the finals.

What Causes Fineritis?
The causes of fineritis is psychological. There are neurologicists out there trying to delve deeper into the mystery of fineritis, but upon nearing the completion of their research, have acquired the disease itself and now feel a disinclination to publish their studies. Although fineritis can occur at anytime of the year and for any number of reasons, there seems to be some kind of change right around the first half of June that creates a sudden burst of fineritis cases. Fineritis is highly contagious, but for it's benigness the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has yet to issue orders for quarantine of fineritis victims.

Symptoms & Diagnosis
The first signs of fineritis are very hard to detect as it is just being a little more lazy than usual. Then it develops into a feeling of being jaded, and finally a very high unwillingness to do anything at all. Fineritis reaches its worst stage when the procrastination takes up more than 50% of work time.

Fineritis, like Selective Memory Loss, can be treated by consumption of meat and by staying away from foods containing soy. Comfort foods such as ice cream and chocolate will help as well. Self-discipline is also effective.

Prognosis
Fineritis is nonlethal, and when the factor inducing fineritis has passed, then the symptoms will fade.

--
Before you selectively forget, head over to Humor-blogs for me.

Political Ignorance

2008-06-04T21:15:00.001-07:00

Today, my friends were talking about politics and stuff.

Well, I must confess that I have more or less been living in a box.

I don't watch that box of flickering lights people call TV, nor do I listen to the radio. In fact, I do read the news. Reuter's Oddly Enough articles. It's my only link to the world outside of the not so accurate gossip network.

So I was more or less left confounded while my friends rambled on about politics and Clinton or something of which I had little knowledge of. So, like Finny of A Separate Peace, I put on an expression of thoughtfulness and threw in a couple understanding nods and "Yea's" and attempted to not seem out of the loop.

I don't really see a point in catching on until I'm eighteen, a good three years from now. In fact, I found it almost annoying how people would battle it out over whether Obama, McCain, or Clinton is winning. To me, it's just some far off place; as far as the battlefields of Iraq or the playing fields of Trojans vs. Bruins that has nothing to do with me. Come to think of it, I don't really care who becomes President in my own school's Associated Student Body. It seems that no matter who we elect, nothing changes. Absolutely nothing. The only big thing itself is the election; to see who's the most popular; who's the greatest liar.

But maybe it is time to come out of the little hole I've been sticking my head in. Perhaps who we elect does make a difference - differences that are unnoticeable by me for lack of information.

At the very least, I can try to accidentally stray on to the more practical pages of Reuter's and maybe, just maybe, become a little less ignorant about politics, if only to save my pride. But don't ever expect me to care if USC or UCLA's football teams are better. That's pushing it.

Budget Cuts

2008-06-02T07:37:00.000-07:00

So our economy is in a recession. Which leads to budget cuts. Which lead to teachers getting asked not to return. Which leads to a totally new set of computers. Wait. What? New set of computers? That doesn't seem typical of what happens during budget cuts.

But believe it or not, they're here. Yup. Last Friday, I walked into the library expecting to find the old but decent black Dell desktops. While at the front entrance, I saw a flash of silver. I thought, oh, new screens, which in itself was a waste of money.

Then, as I walked closer, I realized that the computers were also silver. This was a surprise. What was even more surprising was that the new hardware was Hewlett Packard. Whatever happened to those contracts with Dell I thought you had?

But that's not the end of the surprises. These computers were better than mine! Not that my computer is top of the line, or anything, but a school computer outclassing a private one? That's unheard of! These things had 2.33 GHz Core Duo's and 2 GB's of RAM. Crazy. What does a school computer need that much power for, anyways? It's not like they're needed to play Crysis or anything.

Not that I have a problem with using really fast computers (once you've used one you never want to go back to your piece of junk), but I remember that there were budget cuts. Why the new computers? You could have kept the teachers you sacked for another year with the money*. Or you could have kept the Academic Decathlon as a class. The school has to get its priorities straight sometimes.

*My friend once noted that instead of cutting teachers, we should cut the deans. Who needs them, anyways? All they do is drive around wasting energy with their fancy little flame-decaled golf carts.

Selective Memory Loss

2008-06-01T13:25:00.001-07:00

Many people claim they suffer from Short Term Memory Loss, which is rather hard to cure. One of the few known effective methods is to hang out with a small, orange and white fish known as Nemo and repeating, "P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney!". However, one cannot spend their entire life living in an anem-anem-anemenemone, nor are there enough Nemo's to help everyone suffering from Short Term Memory Loss.

Once upon a time, my teachers believed I suffered from Short Term Memory Loss. But thanks to a recent self-diagnostic, I discovered that I suffer from Selective Memory Loss.

What is Selective Memory Loss?
Selective Memory Loss (SML) is type of memory loss. However, the only memories the afflicted person loses are the one he or she chooses to forget.

Causes
No one is really sure what causes Selective Memory Loss, although we do know that SML afflicts both the right and left temporal lobes of the brain, creating a manner that bears resemblance to a smiley face, as depicted by the electroencephalogram below.

Studies have shown that SML is spontaneous and that every person is capable of developing SML, although lazy people are more prone to it than others. SML is not contagious. SML cannot be transmitted through bodily contact, contact with fluids from an SML afflicted person, or even sexual intercourse. However, conversations about the disorder can induce SML with those involved. In fact, by reading this article, it is quite possible that you will suddenly discover that you have the disorder yourself.

Symptoms
The symptoms of Selective Memory Loss cannot be easily seen from the outside, unlike Short Term Memory Loss. A person with Short Term Memory Loss will suddenly turn around and go, "Who are you? Why are you stalking me?". However, someone with SML is much more subtle.

To find out whether or not you have Selective Memory Loss, try to remember something you don't want to remember. If you can remember it, then you do not have SML. However, it is quite hard to do this self-test mentally, because in order to ask yourself, you must somehow remember the event and figure out if you remember it, but if you know the event you don't want to know, then you don't have it. It is quite paradoxical. It is therefore recommended to have a list of forgotten events handy.

Is Selective Memory Loss bad? How will it affect me?
Unlike Short Term Meomry Loss, SML is not necessarily a bad gift to have. It is quite useful as an excuse for students who make mistakes more than once. All one with SML needs to say is, "I'm sorry, but I have SML. Apparently, I seemed to have forgotten that I made a mistake before, so it's technically only my first time making the mistake. It won't happen again, I promise" - and then promptly forgot that they made that promised. But, who can blame them? It's not their fault they have SML.

SML can also keep a person happy, as all the down sides of life can be forgotten.

However, SML can be used for malevolent purposes. A liar can simply forget that he is lying, and therefore will only be able to express genuine disbelief if their construed lie catches up to them.

Diagnosis & Treatment
There is no known cure for Selective Memory Loss. However, a simple will to remember everything will be enough to negate the effects of it. Clinical studies have also shown that eating meat and avoiding soy products may help.

Prognosis
Selective Memory Loss is not a terminal disease. However, if one chooses to forget life saving information, such as looking both ways when crossing the street, or never to eat a Mentos and drink Coke at the same time, then Selective Memory Loss could quite possibly be indirectly lethal.

NOTE: The type of Selective Memory Loss is solely the product of the imagination of the author and is not related to other forms of SML in any way whatsoever. All information regarding SML may retain certain shreds of truth, but is entirely fictional. Moufflets is not responsible for any action taken as a result of this post.

--
Before you selectively forget to, humor me by going to Humor-blogs.

John Knowles - A Separate Peace

2008-05-30T17:57:00.000-07:00

I figured it's been a while since I've written a book review. So here's another literary work that I've digested and regurgitated for your pleasure.

A Separate Peace
Written by John Knowles
Genre: Tragedy
Published by Macmillan 1959.
ISBN: 978-0-743-25397-0

This story revolves around two boys, Gene and Finny and is told from the former's point of view. The setting takes place in a boarding school in New England (not located in England) during World War II. Gene and Finny are best friends. But Finny seems to be the type that can get away with anything and do everything, such as ditching school to go to the beach, breaking swimming records, and jumping out of trees. Finny would be what you call a stud, but he can't because the school he and Gene happen to be at is a men's club: no girl students.

So after having some fun, Gene has his own private Enlightenment. He begins to realize that Finny is his enemy! And there was a deeper reason why Finny is pretending to be such a good friend to him than being a good friend. Finny was trying to lower his grades so that he could be a better student!

So one day, at a tree jumping session of the Super Secret Summer Suicide Society, Gene's knee "accidentally" moves and the Finny falls out of the tree like a nut and cracks something. The only problem is Finny doesn't believe that Gene did it on purpose and Gene doesn't know if he did it on purpose, either.

...You know what? I'm tired of giving a summary. Go read it for yourself.

Rating: 8/10

The book has its boring moments, especially during the beginning of the book. But as you keep reading, you realize the theme is quite interesting. A boy secretly thinking that his best friend is trying to undermine him. I can't believe it. These people aren't even living in the 21st century where even perfect SAT scores aren't enough to get you into the college of your choice, and these boys are competing? Relax! There's plenty of jobs in the world. You could always go invent the computer and the Playstation.

What's funny is that this whole thing about secret peer competition is that my mom feels the same way. Whenever I want to do something with my friends, she'll go, "Who are your friends? Are they good students? They're just trying to get you outside so you can't study (not like I do when I'm inside) and they can get better grades than you." If the entire world were like what she believed, the world would be a rather cold place.

But the main reason I wrote this review was something deeper. This book is about homosexuals. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but Gene and Finny are gay. There, I've said it. They're gay, even though my English teacher doesn't admit it.

Evidence:

Summary on back: "What happens between two friends one summer, like war itself, banishes the innocence of these boys and their world."

Page 19: "I threw my hip against his, catching him by surprise, , and he was instantly down, definitely pleased. This was why he liked me so much. When I jumped on top of him, my knees on his chest, he couldn't ask for anything better."

Page 48: "...you can't come to the shore with just anybody and you can't come by yourself, and at this teen-age period in life the proper person is your best pal, which is what you are."

Page 69: "I was thinking about you..."

Page 102: "He looked up with a provocative grin."

Page 104: "After [my Army shirt] came off there was just my undershirt, stained with sweat. He smiled at it for a while and then said, as he eaved himself out of the chair, 'There. You should have worn that all day, just that. That has real taste. The rest of your outfit was just gilding that lily of a sweat shirt.'"

Page 107: "Finny hobbled over to the dresser and took up his soap dish. 'I'm first in the shower,' he said.
'You can't get that cast wet, can you?' asked Brinker.
'No, I'll keep it outside the curtain."
'I'll help,' said Brinker.

Page 108: "Phineas was shocked at the idea of my leaving. In some way he needed me. He needed me ... He wanted me around."

Page 113: "No locker could have more pungent air than Devon's; sweat predominated, but it was richly mingled with smells of paraffin and singed rubber, of soaked wool and liniment, and for those who could interpret it, of exhaustion, lost hope and triumph and bodies battling against each other. I thought it anything but a bad smell. It was preeminently the smell of the human body after it had been used to the limit, such a smell as has meaning and poignance for any athlete, just as it has for any lover.

Page 171: "'Let's make a double jump,' because I thought if we went together it would be something that had never been done before, holding hands in a jump..."

--

QED. For more proof, well, you just have to read the book for yourself. Rather recommended, but not as much action as I would like. Really deep psychological side-effects though.

Don't Forget Them Earplugs

2008-05-28T20:27:00.000-07:00

The expert gunslingers always say, "Bring earplugs to a gunfight." I say, "Bring earplugs to a pep rally."

Pep rallies are really loud. Apparently, whoever controls to volume on the huge speakers in our school gym must have bad hearing because they turn it up WAY too loud.

But that's not all. You might think normal voices are loud, but you haven't heard anything yet, possibly because your hearing is already damaged.

Our pep squad seems to enjoy dancing to very bizarre music. Unfortunately, the music also has very bizarre sound effects, such as screeches, squeals, and all the other acoustic concoctions only a computer would know how to make. The song may once upon a time have sounded pleasant, but after taking steroids raising them to a seat thumping loudness, they begin to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Our varsity percussion also likes loud noises. One drum is bad enough. Two drums are worse. Two drums and a base drum are really, really bad. TEN drums and TWO BASE drums are a recipe for major hearing loss. Not to mention the fact that they also have aforementioned artificial computer sounds generated by a stupid Macbook and about ten of those suspended of cymbal things.*

Pep band is the worse. Not only do they play the same music over and over, but they enjoy playing right next to the door you exit out of and have no regard for your audio safety. You can't even hear yourself. This is why we should a pep orchestra, not a pep band. At least it's not the entire bloody band itself.

And they said listening to music on portable music players was bad for your ears. Hypocrites.

*And never, ever, underestimate the loudness of a xylophone. They might not look like much, but they pack a big punch, especially in large numbers.

Religious Excuses

2008-05-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

I did say I was going to write something about "those silly monkeys jumping up and down shouting 'Allah akbar!'", didn't I? Well, thanks to a local screening of Invisible Children*, here it is. Only try really hard to resist causing more acts of death and destruction after reading this.

Just because I made fun of Islamic militants doesn't mean you other radical theists** get away, too. You're all part of the problem. The Crusades. The Holocaust. I'm pretty sure the Islamic people didn't start the problems. I can't remember exactly, but I'm also pretty sure the Ten Commandments included something along the lines of don't kill, which Common Sense also tells you to do.

Waging a war because some God(s) (which for purposes of this post represents all spiritual figures and does not exist) told you to is just ridiculous. I've heard of strict obedience, but attempting to overthrow a government, as corrupt and pathetic as it may be because a voice in your head (who is most likely not your conscience are most certainly not your higher being of choice) suggested it is plain stupid. What if God told you to jump off a cliff? Well, I suppose some of you might. There is a reason why they call you 'extremists'.

This is exactly what happened to a deranged lunatic named Alice Lakwena, and for the last two decades, an unseen war has been waging in Uganda between the government and the Lord's Resistance Army. Children have been kidnapped by this terrorist group and are forced to either learn how to shoot a gun or be shot with one.

Maybe it's the government's fault, but your crusade isn't helping any. All you're doing is adding to the instability of your region and helping your already weak government doing a worse job of fixing it's many problems. If you took the money that you were wasting on junk food such as guns and bombs and gave it to a more noble cause, the world would be a much better place.

Luckily, the story of the Invisible Children has a happy ending. The conflict has become less transparent to the world, and there has been peace for several years and hope for a bloodless solution. Maybe you could all take a lesson from them and put that Holy Sword you were planning to smite the Infidels with down or place that highly fashionable C4 down vest from Abercrombie and Fitch back in the closet.

Post may be expanded later.
Religion is inefficient. De-convert today!

*Moufflets is not associated with Invisible Children or its affiliates in any way, shape, or form.
**All theists negatively referred to in this blog have declared Holy War of some sort or another or have used violence in the name of their imagined higher being. Moufflets does not establish that all theists are ill-hearted people in general, and apologizes and asks to be notified if it has done so.

So Much for the Extra Sleep

2008-05-23T07:12:00.000-07:00

Once again, politicians or whoever runs the school board (they're all the same) has made a stupid error by implementing a late-start for Staff Development Day instead of early-release.

Now, although I prefer early-release, I have no problem with sleeping an extra hour and fight the eye-bags that seem to be appear spontaneously during high school. Or at least it seemed like I could have slept an extra hour. But as it was, I had a zero period.

As you all may know by now, my zero period is Academic Decathlon. In fact, as of last week, we have lost our class. That's right. Due to recent budget cuts by hypocrites of the No Child Left Behind Act, Academic Decathlon has been reduced to club status. And the some itchy string-puller couldn't wait until the end of the year to kick us out of our room, so now we have to go to the library. We don't even see our teacher anymore!

But that's a problem that's not part of the problem. The problem is, if you're in zero period, you still have to report to school at the same time on late-start days! That's just stupid. Maybe I'd understand if they said we still had to come one hour later, but no, we have to report to school at 7:00. As zero period lasts an hour, our class ends at eight. But thanks to late-start, school starts at nine. A little trigonometry would show that we have one hour between the time when AcaDeca ends and school starts. Guess what? During that time, we have to stay at school. And apparently they do notice if you're absent.

Yesterday, that was the fateful late-start day that I started late on. When I got back from home and checked the answering machine, I got a the monotonous slightly female voice that was the telltale sound of an ELD computer telling me that my son was not present during zero period that day and needs to bring a signed note blah blah blah to the attendance office the next day, which brings to me to another point:

Who will take attendance for the attendance staff? When I got to school this morning, at the usual 7:00 in the morning, the windows were closed. They said it would be open at 7:30. When I returned at 7:30, the windows were still closed. And so I had to wait for ten minutes in the rather chilly and moist weather waiting for them. How are we supposed to be good students and be on time if they aren't good role models?

How stupid is that! Very.

Liberation Lies

2008-05-19T19:18:00.000-07:00

All those liberation groups that keeping making the headlines are getting on my nerves.

BLA, ULAF, ULAA.* Something with the word "liberation" in them. I swear that there are more acronyms here than the United States government has.

But what are these so called freedom-fighters doing exactly? It seems to me that they're all preoccupied with making large explosive noises, suiciding other people, and suiciding themsevles and other people. In fact, most of them should be stuck in anger management classes singing, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty, and witty, gayyyy!!!"

You would think that they have learned long ago that virulence**, I mean violence, is not the answer. I suppose that their average lifespan is too short for anything to sink in thanks to their lemming-like attraction to suicide bombings. I think they're pretty immature. It's like they've gone from boys with toys to men with guns, only they're still stomping up and down trying to get attention.

So grow up, calm down, and try to keep the safeties on your guns. At the very least, get a change of names. It's really not nice to mislead people.

As for those silly monkey's jumping up and down shouting "Allah akbar!" while waving AK-47s and RPGs around, I have another post just for you for another time. So try not to crash a plane into anything before or after you get a chance to read it.

*Nothing personal. Just listing a few off the top of Google search.
** A little poke at those nerds over at Mark Keppel who always seem to come out with the most medals in Academic Decathlon. I respect that.

Keep the Meat Coming

2008-05-18T16:32:00.001-07:00

By now, you all should know I like food. More specifically, I like meat.

Today, I have another lunch episode to share with you. And it should be no surprise that it has something to do with meat.

For lunch, we went out to a Brazilian (maybe Portuguese, what's the difference?) steak house.

Now, the first thing you notice when you sit down at one of those churrascarias is that there is this interesting little object. Usually, one side of it is green and the other side red. This little thingamabob is key to your meal, and it is important that you flip it as little as possible. You'll see why in a moment.

These restaurants are part buffets. You can try their signature chicken Cordon Bleu, or any of the cultural Brazilian dishes such as Lingua, rabada, and other unpronounceable creations, but it's recommended you save your stomach space for as much meat as possible. Don't even think about putting any foliage on your plate. Be careful, though. There's no telling what's in half of the foods.

So what is a Brazilian steak house anyways? It's where all the best waiters are located, because these particular breed of food carriers are known as passadors; meat waiters in English. Can you believe it? Waiters entirely dedicated to bringing you meat! This is where the little red-green indicators come in. When the green side is up, they'll keep bringing you meat. They bring these huge sword things with pepper steak, garlic steak, chicken, and more skewered on it right to your table! When the red side is up, the meat flow is cut. The only reason why the red side is down is because you need some time to digest to make room for more meat.

But you can't have everything. The meat sometimes comes too slowly, leaving you to watch some Latin channel on their two flat screens or listen to some Brazilian chant/music set on repeat. The buffet food is probably not all that fresh, because who after all eats at the buffet when there's all this wonderful meat to be had.

The next time you spot one of these places, stop by. Just remember to clear your schedule for the next one hour or two. You'll want to get the most beef out of your buck.

Elastic Menace

2008-05-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

I have discovered another hazard to society. The problem is really serious. It has infiltrated the deepest levels of our populations, and there are new converts everyday.

The perpetrator is slimy, can be yellow bellied, green-skinned, and/or but not limited to red-necked. It's always there, but you might never notice. The perpetrator is GUM.

The oral accessory that have become such a sensation isn't all that sensible.

First of all, chewing gum wears down your teeth. You may not notice it, but it's happening. Your sweet tooth won't be craving much of anything, sweet or otherwise, once it's full of tiny little cavities and all the other little wriggly things from the Listerine commercials. Chewing gum requires a constant, repetitive motion of the same few muscles; eight to be exact. As we all know, too much anything (except meat and typing), is bad for you and you may develop some chronic issues. Chewing Tunnel Syndrome, for one thing. There are even rumors of headaches developing from gum-chewing.

For those that must chew, why waste energy chewing away on what's little more than a sweetened piece of eraser when you could be tenderizing a thick, juicy slice of beef jerky? As long as you resist the urge to swallow, voila! You've got a new gum. Beef jerky cannot currently be stuck behind your ear for storage, but there is ongoing research.

But chewing gum is just plain old annoying. People make this irritating "Jchk jchk jchk" sound when they're chewing. But worst of all, it's the irresponsibility of gum chewers.

All you have to do to see the wide extend of this problem is take a look under a desk then next time you're in a high school. It's a colorful world down there, isn't it? Ever wonder what those black spots are on the cement? Yup, you guessed it. It's gum.

Today, I have become another casualty of the ever present threat of GUM, which I have found out is impossible to eradicate. There is now a wad of the stuff on the bottom of my sandals, and after changing out of my swim gear, discovered a patch that somehow found its way onto my backpack. After playing a rather long game of tug of war in biology, I have managed to remove much of the guck from my backpack, although some still remains, complete with that fresh chewed minty fresh smell.

Point of No Return

2008-05-15T22:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks to those of you who took part in my poll, although the final decision really came down to my mom, for what's that worth.

FINAL POLL RESULTS: 2008/05/07 to 2008/05/14:

Total Votes: 12

Yesterday, I went to the Career Center and did a little tweaking to my schedule. That was the point of no return; the final threshold...

It was very hard to choose between journalism and orchestra. Both had as many pros as they did con.

If I chose orchestra, it would show consistency, seeing as I had already taken one year of it. It would also be easier on my workload as orchestra isn't nearly as demanding as other classes. I've always wanted to see how I looked in a penguin suit.

On the other hand, if I had taken journalism, I might actually achieve some fame, because concertmaster is rather a distant prospect. By writing articles, I may be able to express all that's right, mostly wrong, and funny about the world to more than just my loyal but limited blog viewers. My biology teacher also recommended journalism, I believe, stating that I might be able to squeeze out a nice recommendation for college or other stuff from a long relationship with the class. It'd also be a nice extracurricular. However, by taking journalism, I would have more work and more deadlines and maybe more misplaced sleep.

Yet by taking orchestra I might well be wasting four years of classes that could have been used for something else, even though I intended to take it both junior and senior year, to lighten my workload and go on that large trip to somewhere that happens once every four years for orchestra. Seeing as my violin skills are rather limited, I would likely be stuck in second violin, not playing the melody (and therefore playing the harder music). Then there's also this little problem of loneliness: I wouldn't really know anybody, and all the sophomores entering advanced orchestra are really no more than just acquaintances.

As for personal preference, I really can't decide. I can't well choose between two parts of myself. I was lucky there wasn't a third option: graphic design and animation seemed very tempting.

But whatever, happens, orchestra is the winner. I can only hope that I, the voters, and/or my mom, have made the right choice and gone on the right path of life.

So my next year's schedule will be;
- Honors English 10 (hopefully)
- Honors Pre-Calculus/Calculus A (hopefully but rather unwanted)
- AP Biology
- Spanish 1
- Fit for Life (only to keep my feet dry during the winter) / Tennis Team (hopefully)
- AP Computer Science (Zero Period)
- Advanced Orchestra

Sink or Swim

2008-05-13T20:49:00.001-07:00

It's second semester, which means swimming time for freshman. For a quarter and a half, my PE class has enjoyed being landlubbers. Now it's time for us to get our feet wet.

Yesterday was the first day in the water. However, we were caught in a rather early June gloom, when it was overcast for nearly a week with the thermostat dropping to as low 63 degrees Fahrenheit. But my teacher was still flipping to go swimming, dressed in a windbreaker, pants, and his usual wide brim straw-hat and sunglasses. Meanwhile, the rest of us shivered, barely protected from the freezing temperatures. And we weren't even in the water yet.

As soon as we were in the pool area, we scrambled up the bleachers, trying to get away from the feared water, only to jump up with surprise as our butts touched the cold metal of the benches. With nowhere run and nowhere to sit, we could only stand around, pathetically clutching our shoulders.

Following a painstakingly long roll call, it was time to hit the water.

Somebody had claimed that the water was heated. Well, maybe when hell freezes over it will be. We immediately crouched as low as we could go without submerging our heads, trying to keep away from the icy grip of the atmosphere and fighting for possession of the slighty warm water jets.

The first thing we did was walk around the edge of the pool. This was known as a Whirlpool Warm-up. At first, it felt like Bigfoot Rapids from Knott's. We were basically drifting around rather quickly, although it felt that at any moment, we might suddenly speed up and go plunging down a waterfall. I prepared my most amusing facial expression to wear when the camera would flash our picture, but it never came. I only noticed the current we were creating when we had to swim in the other direction.

It was quite the experience. It was like, no, it was, swimming upcurrent in a river. Now I know why they call it a Whirlpool Warm-up.

Afterwards, we did a few laps using various styles. I don't know why they teach us all these different styles. Breaststroke is the best and most efficient. You don't splash, you can keep your head above the water, and you can swim underwater using it. I also discovered that my swim trunks were looser than they seemed on land and that I couldn't swim too fast for fear of them sliding off. That wouldn't be nice.

The suffering didn't end at the pool, though. After shivering our way back to the lockers, we hit the showers. No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the shower hit us. Standing in front of the innocent looking showerhead, we pushed the button. Instantly, freezing cold water slapped us across the face at Mach 2. There are few things that would make scrawny grown men like us scream, but this was one of them.

All things considered however, our class was pretty lucky. We were swimming during the hottest time of the year (provided California weather stuck with the laws of physics), and we only had to swim on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. On the other hand, there is that problem of sunburn...

Note: Never leave anything wet in the locker. I should have known better, but I found that out the hard way. Apparently, the infernal things known as sandals don't dry out all that fast.

Shroom Soldiers

2008-05-10T21:39:00.001-07:00

I was out in my backyard just peacefully picking loquats from my neighbor's tree. I mean, I have the right to take the fruit if the branches come over to our side of the fence, right? I have long ago perfected the way of eating loquats. You tear off the top and spit it out. Then you suck out everything from inside the rest of the fruit, meat, seeds, and all, taking care to not waste any juice. Then you spit out the seeds, give the empty sack that used to be the loquat a last cleansing suck, and throw it away.

Then I helped my mom decided where we should plant an orange tree that she was planning to buy.

Anyways, the reason I wrote this post was because of an army of mushrooms that came out of nowhere. They sure weren't there yesterday. I must have made these belligerent 'shroom soldiers below mad somehow. Our little fungi friends tried to shoot me when I shot their picture. Maybe it was because I unsuccessfully tried to incinerate them using a magnifying glass. It worked in biology...

Extracurricular Folly

2008-05-09T19:21:00.000-07:00

The day before yesterday, a Friend 1 mentioned to me this organization that she was trying out for. She said, "Friend 2 and Friend 3 were also joining, and so she was going to join. I thought, well, "Since Friend 2 and Friend 3 and Friend 1 were joining," it's only logical that I should join. And so I did.

The next day, I went to the ASB office to pick up a form; the last one there was. I had forty minutes to turn it in before lunch ended.

I went over to my usual lunch spot and immediately took out a pen. Lunch would have to wait. The first couple questions were fill in the blanks, which I promptly shaded in completely. Then it asked me what school activities/clubs/organizations I was going involved or was going to be involved in.

I should have seen this coming. Everything that requires a tryout asks you what extracurricular activities. It's a prejudice that runs back for eons as monkeys were fighting each other to pick lice or whatever tasty tidbit is found on the backs of our primate friends.

They always want you to see if you're active; if you're in Student Council; if you're in Speech and Debate and Math Team and Science Bowl and Destination Imagination and Future Business Leaders of America and Academic Decathlon or are MVP's of tennis or cross country or football or baseball or are Eagle Scouts.

But some of us aren't in all that. Some of us only have a blog to show for ourselves and an Academic Decathlon team where we do nothing at all and have broken our once proud tradition by placing seventeen times worst than the year before. Some of us have Asian fails and most of us only have orchestra and band, and that's not so special anymore, nor are we robots or naturally like Finny from Separate Peace by John Knowles, which are quite special. Most of us if we even tried to match those inhuman humans would suicide ourselves.

It's unfair. Those with a lot of extracurricular activities get in and are able to add another little something to their repertoire. This allows them to get into more things, which allows them to get into more things. This creates an exponential growth curve.

However, like population growth, the curve has a ceiling. A person can only handle so many things at once. This is why accepting people based on their activeness is not only discriminatory but backwards and inefficient.

An organization should select people who have the least amount of commitments. Notice I wrote "commitments" and not "commitment". This is because the fewer things a person need to do, the more time that particular person could devote to your group.

This is known as also specialization, and is very beneficial for the organization and the member. The organization gets more time and gets to feel important for being to only one in the member's life, while the member doesn't have to waste time running from one thing to another and feels needed.

Specialization is the hallmark of every major civilization, and creates trade and luxuries. We wouldn't get very far if we had to do everything ourselves. Imagine if you had to make your own clothes, build your own refrigerator, install your own plumbing.

Wait a minute. Why have I digressed into a lesson in economics? Bleh.

ANYWAYS, it's unfair to judge someone based on the number of extracurriculars. In fact, there should be a law against this; the Equal Extracurriculars Act. Besides, it's against human nature to be inefficient.

Best Burger on Earth

2008-05-03T18:03:00.000-07:00

Today, I went to Carl's Junior for lunch. Like a good Asian family, we were never going to buy anything full priced if we could help it, so of course we brought along a couple coupons.

Anticipating some version of the McDonald's incident, we split up our orders, hoping that the cashier wouldn't notice that we were part of a group.

After my dad had purchased his order, I was next in line. I presented my "$1.00 OFF the Original Six Dollar Burger" and placed an order for a sandwich only, because only non-Asians would ever buy a combo meal and get rip offed for some syrup in carbonated water and puffed up potatoes.

The guy behind the counter rings up my order and then hands me back the coupon, "Use it again?"

Did he just say "Use it again?" I was shocked. I looked up and the guy was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, holding out the coupon, my receipt, and my change.

"No, that's all right; besides, it expires tomorrow."

"It's ok, take it."

I take it. Unbelievable. Now this is the customer service I'm talking about. If every restaurant was like this, the world would be a much better place to live in.

But that's not even what this post is about.

This post is about the Six Dollar Burger, what has to be one of the greatest burgers on Planet Earth.

My friend Turkeyface and I once went to a Carl's Jr. after school. We ordered the Original Six Dollar burger. When it came, we greedily opened the box. Inside was the tallest creation of edible joy I had ever seen. We reverently picked up the burger and brought it up to our mouths to take our First Bite.

We opened our jaws and brought them around the burger, but then we encountered a problem. The burger was so big that we simply couldn't fit sandwich in our mouths. What to do? We could try to dislocate our jaws like snakes do, or we could take a fork and knife and carve up the burger into more manageable pieces. Finally, we decided to take our most of the lettuce, because we figured that it would have the least impact on our experience.

Finally, we were able to take the First Bite. Our incisors cut their way through three inches of food; buns, patty, and greens alike.

The meat, the entire half inch of it, was great! Tyrannosaurus rexes all over the world were probably turning over in their graves as I savored the massive slab of charbroiled pleasure. This burger would actually have made the original Carl's Junior's commercial make sense, with the dripping ketchup and everything. The thing was messy; we needed like a quarter of the napkin dispenser.

I've yet to see the world, but this burger trumps all. My only regret was that we ordered the combo meal. What a waste.
P.S.: The Portabello 'shroom burger ain't half bad, either, and the only burgers I'm eating from McDonald's ever again are its Third Pounders. Big Macs aren't that big anymore.

NOTE: This is an independent article and is Moufflets is not associated in any way whatsoever to Carl Karcher Enterprises, Inc.

Another Six Dollar Burger experience.

Need a Moment?

2008-05-02T22:16:00.000-07:00

Don't you ever get that craving for something sweet, salty, chewy, and brown?

I do quite often, and I fulfill the urge with Twix. But only if there isn't any beef jerky handy.

I'm always looking to eat meat, but there never seems to be enough of it lying around, or at least in the palatable form. Enter beef jerky, the best thing since the invention of meat itself.

What's not to like about beef jerky? It doesn't need refrigeration, it doesn't need cooking, and it doesn't even need to be uncanned. You can bring it anywhere for that quick burst of protein to keep you on you on your feet. You don't need one of those environmentally destructive plastic bags to like you need for trail mix. A little piece of paper to wrap around it is all you need. Plus, you'll have something to wipe your hands after you've eaten the jerky and licked your fingers.

You don't even need hands to eat jerky. Just pop a chunk in your mouth and start exercising your jaw muscles and do whatever needs doing. It may also help in rehabilitation of tobacco-chewers. Chewing beef jerky may produce salivation, which the patient may "spit" in the tobacco-chewing fashion. However, this is not recommended at is a waste of perfectly good beef jerky juice that should be savored instead.

Beef jerky also has its masculine appeals. Real men like meat. What's more manlier than taking a stick of jerky and ripping a chunk off like a barbarian. Arrghh.

Nutritionally, beef jerky has no fat. Yup, you heard me, no fat. Not that I would care, but it doesn't have fat because it is the nature of beef jerky to be mostly fat free.

Furthermore, beef jerky has non-gastronomic uses. If your shoes ever need a new sole, you can tack some jerky to the bottom of the shoe and it'll be find. Or a rather stringy piece, stick it to a large slab of jerky and call it a sandal. Beef jerky also makes a rather nice fly swatter, and to a lesser extent, an instrument of child arse-abuse*. If you happen upon a creature rather desperate for hominid flesh, beef jerky can usually prove to be a nice distraction.**

Need a moment? Chew it over with Jerky.

*Moufflets is not responsible for any action taken as a result of this post. Child abuse is frowned upon in most lax Western societies who pass "No Child Left Behind" acts and may be punishable by law.
**WARNING: This is not a proven survival technique. Moufflets is not responsible for any action taken as a result of this post. Also, do not attempt any heroic attempts to save the beef jerky that you used as a decoy, for that would negate its purpose, nor should you eat the jerky in the presence of a carnivore.

Fundraising Poll

2008-04-28T07:23:00.000-07:00

I would like to thank everyone who voted for participating in my poll.

The topic seems weird, but I was applying to my school's newspaper, and part of the application was to list fundraising ideas.

While filling out the rest of my application, I was mainly pro-carnivore. While saying, "meatmeatmeatmeat", which if you notice says "eat meat", it hit me that I could sell meat! In terms of meat, I was thinking something along the lines of tender filet mignon, USDA approved sirloin steaks, and juicy prime ribs. They protein could be denatured for eating right in front of you upon the external combustion heating device, just the way you like it, with your choice of all the classic seasonings (I recommend good 'ole salt and pepper). We could also let you cook the meat yourself, and maybe say give you twenty to thirty minutes on the grill, because how long does it take to cook beef? For more exotic palates, we could have special offers for the more exotic parts of bovines. Finally, we could imitate the cookie dough fundraisers and send home chunks of cryogenized meat for Grandma to prepare with her secret recipe.

Plant matter could constitute of either vegetables or floral objects.

Perhaps I wasn't being fair to soybeans when I labeled its category "Hazardous soy products." You never know, however. Remember that it is possible that the soybean is a malevolent, sentient hive mind capable of mind control. I'm pretty sure that it wouldn't have gotten many more votes had I given it another name. Products may include high monosodium glutamate fermented essence of soy. While many types of bean curd may be sold, the odorous cousin known as Stinky Tofu WILL NOT be sold for the sake of public health.

Stationery consists of general office supplies, such as distracting exploding pens, and mechanical graphite pencils, commonly mistaken as lead pencils. Primitive wood-encased graphite pencils will probably be available as well. Compressed sheets of wood pulp fibers, rubber deletion devices, and rock paperweights from your backyard may be included. All stationary will probably be monogrammed with the school theme.

FINAL POLL RESULTS 2008/04/23 to 2008/05/01:

Total Votes: 58

A friend, Turkeyface, shall we say, told me to give out this little piece of advice from the Bad Driver's Handbook by Zack and Larry Arnstein:

Keep tofu in your car in case of bikers. When stuck in traffic with these carbon based bi-wheeled lifeforms, toss the tofu out the window. The biker will leap out of their way to retrieve the disgusting chunk of soy, preferably into the way of a speeding truck. In any case, take this opportunity to speed ahead

***APPENDED 2008/05/28
I didn't make it to the newspaper staff. At least I'm taking Advanced Orchestra.

Must I Explain?

2008-04-25T15:36:00.000-07:00

Some say they hate school. Some say that the worst part of school is English (or math). Still others say the worst part of English is explaining.

Explaining is already annoying. Yes or no. That's all I want to give as an answer. It's really unfair, by the way. The teachers get to write one line while we have to write five in return.

The worst part of all is when you have to explain the obvious. There are times when I'd just like to throw my pen across the room and scream, "Because it is!!!" and crumple the paper up. I assume that whoever is going to read my work couldn't be so possibly stupid that they couldn't get the point after one or two sentences.

The teachers want us to make something out of nothing. Please write an entire page's worth of stuff for this one thing. But there's nothing to say! I've said what I've could say and they still want me write more! And so I sit there with my hand stroking my nonexistent beard trying to think of some fluff for my essay.

Conclusions are also annoying. We always have to sum things up, but it feels so much like repeating myself. I've already mentioned it once in the topic paragraph and another time in the body paragraphs. So, as per English writing standards, I am going to conclude this post by repeating myself: explaining stinks.

P.S.: At some point, I am also going to rant about the Modern Language Association. And symbolism.

HALF-BAKED IDEA: Pending revision for failure to meet Moufflets Quality Standards.

Moral Meat Eating

2008-04-24T07:09:00.000-07:00

Why is it considered so bad to eat meat, health concerns aside?

Do people consider it cruel? Welcome to my world, a rather cruel one. That'll be a $50 entrance fee by the way. Animals die everyday because of the forests you clear to grow your soybeans. The plants make themselves food, the animals eat the food, and we eat the animals. We should consider ourselves lucky to be at the top of the food pyramid. I wouldn't want to be a cow in another world. My world is also a Darwinist one, among other things, and it's survival of the fittest, and as the fattest, I say we deserve to eat meat. In fact, it was eating meat that allowed us to first develop our abnormally large heads and meet that sometimes annoying speaker named Jiminy Cricket that says killing animals is bad.

Are you not being cruel to plants? Just because plants don't have that bundle of neurons that some of us know as a brain doesn't mean they're not sensitive to pain. When you continuously clip a plant, does it not grow in the other direction? Does its crunchy cry of death not make you think twice about eating it? The plants are still photosynthesizing when you mercilessly pull them by their roots out of the ground. Do weeds, as annoying as they are, not deserve to live among side your precious vegetables? This is a case of irrationality and human bias. Because plants are not warm and fuzzy and do not look cute, people do not have qualms about killing them.

So we have animal farms that take productivity a little too far. What about your plant farms? I'm sure plants don't like it when they're jammed together side by side in neat little rows and genetically modified and then sprayed with chemicals. Nor do they like roasting inside one of your greenhouses. When they're all nice and fattened, a big machine comes and violently rakes them out of the ground, after which they're sent to big factories where they're sliced and diced and made into chop suey.

If we didn't eat the animals, then they would multiply unchecked and upset the natural balance of things. Imagine all that bovine feces and flatulence we would have to face if cows were allowed to run rampant. Then they would eat all your plants and then where would you be? Resist the temptation ... resist it ... hah! Guess you're just going have to learn how to chug down some bloody protein.

So all you vegans out there: shut up about animal cruelty and go find some piece of green in the dirt to chew on. More meat for the rest of us.

Until the STARs Fade pt.2

2008-04-22T17:15:00.001-07:00

Until the STARs Fade pt.1

Well, I'm done with the English portion. As usual, it was overwhelmingly boring with a few hard spots. Not that I didn't know my stuff. It's just that some questions had those unfair answers that I just couldn't choose between.

Then from there we had one hour to figure out some way to entertain ourselves within the confines of a classroom. Me, I just took out my iPod and continued working on my Bejeweled High Score, which was on Level 18. Right now, I'm currently on Level 21. It takes longer and longer to complete a level at this stage. Maybe I'll set a world record.

Our proctor happened to be an Algebra 2 teacher. With tomorrow being a math test, he said that we all needed to know Standard Deviations among other things. Well, apparently, the school system must be a little whack because being an Algebra 2 Honors student, I had no idea what a Standard Deviation was, as did every other honors student who did not over achieve.

[CENSORED: Sensitive information. To be released after 2007-2008 school year has ended.]

Someone also brought his MacBook Air. First of all, snobby show-off. Second, why in the world are you using a Mac in the first place? He said he was going to do his English homework, but soon gave into temptation and started playing an offline flash game (probably because he couldn't get a good game on his Mac).

Well, I hope that crash course on Standard Deviations and probability will help tomorrow.

Until the STARs Fade pt.1

2008-04-22T07:14:00.000-07:00

Twinkle, twinkle little STAR, how I wonder where you are?

Back in middle school, the Standardized Testing And Reporting (STAR) tests were more or less the reason we went to school. That star-crossed week would come, and most of us were dying from a month-long anticipation. We'd bite our nails, take the test, and as soon as it was break began sharing answers in direct violations of the rules. As a result, we'd either bite our nails some more or manage to be able to sleep half of the recommended number of hours that night. Then the next morning we'd repeat the process. When the whole ordeal was over, the whole ordeal would fade from our minds until the middle of summer. Just when we started if the scores would ever arrive, the colorful pieces of paper that decided whether or not you went to two after schools instead of one next year would mysteriously materialize in your mailbox.

Here in high school, the STAR testing week came upon us almost all of a sudden. We were just back from Spring Break, and when we find out, our jaws drop. What? Already? I personally was wondering where the STAR tests again, and was beginning to suspect that maybe, just maybe, we didn't have to take those smartness measuring things. Apparently, these once feared tests were eclipsed by the fate-determining might of the SAT's. It was only up until the few days before did teachers make any efforts to bulk us up and hope that they had done their jobs correctly.

If you know how to study, you'll be fine. The test covers way to much stuff for a mortal person to study for. You were supposed to memorize, not necessarily understand, everything your teacher has taught you over the past seven months. So go grab some shuteye and just hope to the Great Probability that you remembered everything. Studying just makes things worse.

But some people are stilled worried about it. My algebra teacher, for one, was extremely concerned for our scores. Of course, no one is truly that altruistic and he was only worried because if did poorly, it would reflect negatively on the city and thus lower his property values. Ironically, he'd rather slave on about trigonometry than take a day off to help us review.

As I sit here composing this post, a mere twenty minutes before I hurry off to take the first STAR test of the week, I wonder if it will be like any other before. Will it throw our schedules into total anarchy? Will it cause us to experience hair loss? There's only one way to find out. Wish me luck.

Until the STARS Fade pt.2

Limit One Per Customer

2008-04-20T15:10:00.000-07:00

This morning, noon, or afternoon, my family and I made a trip to McDonald's for lunch. We had in our possession four McDonald's coupons. The fine print on them was some of the longest I ever saw:

Expires 5/5/08. Valid only at participating McDonald's restaurants in Los Angeles, Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, and Ventura Counties. Current prices and participation based on independent operator decision. Prices may vary. Not valid in conjunction with any other offer, discount, coupon or combo meal. Cash value 1/20 of 1 cent. Limit one coupon per person per visit. Plus tax if applicable. Price of required purchase posted on menu board. Coupon may not be transferred, copied or duplicated in any way or transmitted via electronic media. Valid when product served. may not be valid for custom orders. © 2008 McDonald's.

When placing our order, the cashier proved extremely annoying and unsympathetic. "I'm sorry, but it's only one coupon per person," she whined. I'm already risking my heart eating there and they want to give me a headache? Luckily, our family happened to be one of four, so we each had to take a place in line so that we could make use of all the coupons.

This system is rather stupid. First of all, McDonald's printed those coupons, so they should expect to make a smaller profit than usual. Then they complain when we use more than one coupon during a transaction on separate items.

Say I buy a Big Mac (which really isn't as big as it looks on the pictures), and use a "Buy one Big Mac and get another Free". So I get two Macs for the price of one. Then I also buy a Cinnamon Melt and use a "Buy a Cinnamon Melt and get a Free Medium Iced Coffee" coupon for a hundred-ninety calorie overdose of sugar.

So in reality, I'm getting a two Big Mac's, a Cinnamon Melt, and an Iced Coffee for the price of a Big Mac and an Iced Coffee when using the two coupons at once. If I used them separately, I would have gotten two Big Mac's for the price of one AND a Cinnamon Melt and an Iced Coffee for the price of a Cinnamon Melt. If my passing Geometry Honors with two Asian fails say anything, I think the two equations come out the same.

Okay, so we're using the coupons "in conjunction with other offer(s)" and other purchases. It's not like we're using the coupons on something we got for free, so McDonald's isn't losing money.

They also have this "per visit" thing. It would be assumed that a visit would consist of walking through one of the several doors that a McDonald has and then walking out through the same or different door. So I go in, buy something with a coupon, and then leave. I then return on a second "visit" and use another coupon.

What would that leave McDonald's with? A lesser profit, since they have to waste another piece of a paper, another tray to clean, a table to wipe, etc... and a less satisfied customer. McDonald's then argues that a "visit" means once a day. Well, I frankly don't see what difference it makes other than make me madder.

Furthermore, "valid only at participating McDonald's restaurants only". What the hey is this? McDonald's presents itself as a chain restaurant. Therefore, every restaurant is expected to be more or less the same. One McDonald's should be the same as any other McDonald's restaurant, and I don't want to have to walk into one only to find out that the restaurant isn't participating because the owner didn't feel like it and have to go to another just to use that discount. Don't you know there's a fuel shortage going on? I'm not even going to talk about "prices may vary".

On a side note, the coupons may be worth $0.0005, but apparently they were also selling on eBay for a dollar or two. Auction for that piece of problem causing paper closed a couple hours ago, so I can't find the link.

Communist Chinese School

2008-04-17T07:19:00.000-07:00

I've always had this suspicion deep down inside, and now I know I'm right. My Chinese school is Communist.

My Chinese school is part of a larger organization that claims to help the world and save the needy.

Everyone is equal, so they say, and every one is part of the school, even if they don't want to be. So, they stick us all in collared shirts, and with the coming of next year, uniform pants, just like their uniform loving Communist cousins Asia, to say that we all belong and that we're equal. Whatever happened to free will? Furthermore, don't they know that there are needy people in the world without clothes? We already have clothes, and these stupid monogrammed uniforms could be used to clothe little children.

They also have culture classes such as how to host tea parties, attempting to keep their culture alive in a world where everyone is trying to assimilate into one big melting pot. Now the "traditional" in China is whatever the dramas are doing. They also require us to perform childish songs. The most disgusting part of it all is when those retarded "aunts" and "uncles" put on manufactured smiles and treat high schoolers like little kids. If we don't do what they want, they try cajoling us with candy and sweet smiles. Then they pretend to get mad and frown and place their hands on their hips. Ooh, I'm scared.

Then they have the infamous reeducation classes, where they torture us to death via boredom. In these classes, they attempt to reeducate us on things that we already know, among them what to do during a fire and about global warming. The scary thing was that when teaching us about fires they had to read from a book, nor did they actual organize any fire drills. During these classes, they also showed us self-aggrandizing videos of themselves helping the unfortunate. A classic example of conceited Communist propaganda.

If you have ever seen a Communist parade, you will notice flags everywhere. Likewise, my Chinese school does the same, and speaking of parades, also like to host large performances to display their freak talent shows. Last year, I had the misfortune to perform with their half-arsed symphony orchestra. The ensemble stank, because everyone who could play a violin half decently was also smart enough to do something else, and there is no such thing as a symphony without percussion, the only reasons why band might sound better than an orchestra. To add to my indignities, the conductor gave the melody to the second violins and sings along, even during the performance! I knew I shouldn't have joined, and I regret letting my mother cajole me into joining. The year prior, the teacher, who was the father of my violin teacher, suddenly disappeared during the middle of the year to go visit Taiwan. Can't blame him, not that it mattered. With three violins and a cello, we weren't going to get much done anyways. This year, when my teacher asked me to join, I had to yell, "No, no, no, and No!" The last I checked, the music was only about three lines long.

Then, they have their hypocrisy, without which no Communist state would truly be Communist. They once gave a lecture on recycling and reducing, as if we didn't know them. The instructor was saying not to buy bottled water and instead buy a reusable bottle. But behind him, you could see several dozen cases of bottled water, stacked from floor to ceiling. Another time, they were telling us how unfortunate people were in some unfortunate Asian country had to write with little plastic pencil tips while they gave out pens for answering their stupid questions.

After that, they have their inefficiency. Just like all those workers would gladly build some statue for the Motherland, we have a bunch of old men with nothing better to do than volunteer at the school. I suppose it's a good thing to volunteer, so I respect that, but what do they do? They put four people to man one crosswalk. I remember quite clearly that you only need one person for one crosswalk. I believe that's three people less that could have been picking up trash to make our world a better place. Then they have student volunteers. These people sit in their custom volunteer sweaters (a waste of money) and are only found running errands and ringing bells. In their free time, they sit around and talk instead of fulfilling the school's mission statement.

The food is disgusting. One time, for that afor mentioned "orchestra", if it can be called that, I had to stay afterschool for a "rehearsal". So we had to bring our own bowl and fork and cup over to the house that the school owned on the other side of the street. The place was like land of the giants. Everything was oversized, from the sinks to the pans to the containers. Their spaghetti was too acidic and the veggies soggy. The scrambled eggs were sweet!!! Who in the world puts sugar into scrambled eggs! I'm pretty sure its not a Chinese dish. Later, after taking a look around, I saw a stack of empty cans about a foot in diameter. They read "Spaghetti Sauce" and "Chop Suey". So our food came from these huge cans. I immediately felt sick, but everyone around me was happily chowing away at their gruel. Oh yea, there was plenty soy but no meat, and they were using Mexicans as chefs.

And that's all I have to say about this Red organization that is somehow still open in the middle of the United States of America in which President Truman declared that the US would fight Communism everywhere in the world. Well, it's happening in our own back yard, and I would call the Department of Homeland Security, but I don't have their phone number. I can see how people as evil as the fascists would also hate Communism. That's one thing Hitler got right.

Listening to Yourself

2008-04-16T07:13:00.000-07:00

If you have ever heard yourself on a recording or video? Don't you think you sound different from the normal you? If, so you're not alone.

To understand this interesting phenomenon, you must first understand the science of making noises.

To speak, your body's vocal cords produce vibrations. The vibrations are transmitted through the air, and when they reach a person's ears, they interpret as sound. Your ears also pick up those vibrations, as well as the vibrations of your body, since your body is attached to the vocal cords. This addition of audio stimuli changes your perspective on hearing.

For musicians out there, think of a tuning fork. If you place the tuning fork on a violin, or anything hollow for that matter, the violin begins to emit a sound. This is because the vibrations are being picked up by the instrument, which begins resonating itself. The tuning fork is the equivalent of your vocal cords, where as the violin could be your head. After all, most people in the world are air heads. But for those who actually have a brain, their ears contain several hollows themselves.

So what you hear isn't what others hear when you speak. The recording is right, and you are wrong, whether for better or for worse. If you ask a friend whether or not you sound different, they'll probably say no, and perhaps even turn around and say that they sound different.

That's how good singers are made or broken. When you sing, you tune your voice until you think it's right, but you have to think about what it sounds to others. If they like it, you can now try out for American idol. If not, well, you can always use one of those voice changer gadgets.

So think about it. You're hearing yourself for the first time.

NOTE: This post is not to be considered a tested scientifc theory. It is based on the opinions of severl friends. Moufflets is not responsible for any actions taken on the basis of this post.

In the spirit of Spring Break

2008-04-11T21:26:00.000-07:00

I have no idea why I looked forward to Spring Break this year. Or last year. Or the year before that for that matter.

When you think of Spring Break, you think of going out and partying all night and going snowboarding or something fun like that. But apparently, all that I've heard about those five extra days of fun is an illusion.

Teachers just don't understand the true meaning of spring break. Wikipedia defines Spring Break as a week long recess from studying at universities and school. By extension, studying includes doing any form work related to learning against your will.

I really pity Chinese extra-curricular institutions for their bliss-less ignorance. At the same time, I am quite offended by their simply remaining open during this sacred time of rest. By doing so, they allow parents the option of packing us off to rot at these brain washing facilities. If that wasn't bad enough, some of them send home work for us to "keep sharp" over the break.

But I'm not being fair here to the "Other Schools". My high school teachers are giving more than their fair share of homework. In nine days, I have an English paragraph, an English book report (which I have to present), an English essay on the Holocaust, and that's just for English alone. Add in about a pound of biology that relies on an online textbook since I forgot to bring my carbon copy home, and a nice, juicy history project that's worth a rather large amount of points. Don't forget the math, either. I have four sections of about seventy problems each, not to mention some graphing. Thank goodness I'm just doing odds. Then we can round up that four course banquet with a nice two servings of Chinese homework.

Come to think of it, I was partly wrong when I said that teachers didn't understand the meaning of spring break. Some teachers even go to Paris, leaving us to slave away at the work they left behind for us.

So now I'm living in a spring break that reminds me of a lot like school days. I get a little more sleep, and I also get a little more distracted. After all, I do have this shiny laptop sitting here, just begging to have a blog written on it. But somehow, I'll make it through. I always do. A little procrastination never hurt anyone.

Still, in the spirit of Spring Break, lay off the homework, will you teachers? Thanks.

Vegas: So What?

2008-04-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

Just the other day, my friends and I were talking about nothing in particular at the library. Then one of their cell phones (of which I find myself currently lacking in this high-tech world), go off. In direct violations of library rules, she answers the call.
The rest of us listen in on half of the conversation:

"I'm at the library talking to my friends ... uh, huh. What? We're going to Las Vegas? Why? Leaving tomorrow? Coming back on Monday? No? Coming back on Tuesday?"

After a holiday, whether it's a week or just an extra day, teachers will ask you about what you did. Among the slurry of mumbles of "nothing much" and "stayed home", there are almost invariably some who say they went to Vegas.

Vegas: Home of the Mega Resorts. Sure, the hotels are pretty. But how many times could you possibly be impressed by them? When you seen 'em once, you've seem 'em all.

Smell: You can't walk anywhere in the hotels that's not actually an hotel without getting a lungful of second-hand smoke.

Casinos: I don't have money and I'm under 21. Go figure.

Too much exercise: I don't like to walk. When I stayed at Planet Hollywood, to get from the parking area my room meant walking at least a quarter mile, through the aforementioned fog of cigarette smoke. Walking from the Strip, I had to walk through at least half of the Miracle Mile.

Internet: I've tried going to rehab, but I just can't seem to get over that three day hump without Internet. And apparently the big hotels for all their grandeur don't seem to be broadcasting any free wi-fi.

Food: Great, but be prepared for long lines and digging deep into your pockets for money.

If you're driving from Southern California, then be prepared to be amazed at the vast, endless stretches of dirt, farms, bushes, and more dirt. Be aware of shopper-types in your group; there's some outlets in the middle of nowhere that seem to turn an ordinary rest-stop into shopping sprees.

Downtown Vegas: Creepy place. Wouldn't want to go there at night.

HALF-BAKED IDEA: Pending revision for failure to meet Moufflets Quality Standards.

Silly Superstitions

2008-04-04T07:19:00.000-07:00

If you're Asian, then I'm sure your parents have told you some superstitious tales more than once. I find some of them rather ridiculous.

"If you shake your leg to much, you'll lose money."
First of all, I'm not carrying any change on me. And my wallet is wedged between my arse and the seat. So it's highly unlikely that I'll be experiencing some financial hardships anytime soon.

"Never flip over a fish after eating all the meat on the top."
...especially on a boat. To flip over the fish means to capsize, and we wouldn't want that to happen would we. This poses quite a problem to us. How do we get to the meat on the bottom with the spine in the way? They say remove the bone. However, if we use the same illogical logic they applied to flipping the fish, then that would mean that we're ripping off the entire top part of the boat, which would be an undesirable outcome as well.

"Clipping your nails at night is bad luck; you'll be visited by a ghost."
I have my reasons why I clip my nails at night. At night is when I take a shower; which softens my nails so that they're easier to clip. You know that funny feeling you get after clipping your nails? Well, I have a whole night to get used to it. Also, I don't have the time to clip my nails in the morning. There's such a thing as school.

"Wearing a mustache is bad luck."
This is quite interesting, as it shows how much of a hypocrite the ancient Chinese were. If you have ever watched an ancient Chinese Drama, you'll notice that a lot of the men have mustaches. Really long, white wispy mustaches, also known as a Fu Manchu mustache. Sometimes, they even have sideburns. On the other hand, they are quite right. Look what happened to Hitler and Prime Minister Tojo of Japan (World War II). Stalin had one too. Women with mustaches probably aren't doing to well either.

"The dining area should not be under the second floor toilet."
About time for one that's actually logical. I wouldn't want anything from yesterday's dinner dripping onto my dinner.

For those most Chinese superstitious, the Almanac should be consulted to find the best time to do important things. The Almanac would tell you that if the day is a good day or bad day to have a funeral, sweep the graves of ancestors, worship the dead or move an ancestor's grave; start construction, move into a new house, visit friends or even travel north; get a haircut or cultivate plants and so on. The fact: if you follow ALL the "traditions", you will get nowhere!

I don't recall ever reading whether it was a good day to have a funeral in an Almanac, not that I read a lot of them. But I do agree that if you follow all the traditions, or even some, you will get nowhere.

Last three superstitions and quoted paragraph provided by Chinatown Connection.

Inky Secret Weapon

2008-04-01T07:39:00.000-07:00

Part of the benefits of being in Academic Decathlon, even if your team didn't even come close to living up to the previous years and its city's prowess, was that you got a free Academic Decathlon pen and pencil.

They came in a blue plastic pen case, which was made of plastic and broke quite easily when dropped.

The pencil, a mechanical one, had a rather bad design. In order to insert more lead, you had to pull out the cap at the back, like most other pencils. However, in the process of pulling out the cap, the entire lead tube came out with in. This left you with two options. First, you could put the lead in the tube and then attempt to secure the tube back in its socket. This would seem easier than the second, which was to take the entire thing apart and put it back together, but apparently the tube wasn't prone to sticking into socket easily nor accurately. When writing, the pencil also had a tendency to begin to unscrew itself from the head.

But the pen was a whole different story.

At first, the pen worked just fine. It wasn't great, but the ink was smooth. Like the pencil, it also had a slight disposition to begin to seperate the body from the head. One day, I decided to attempt to solve the problem once and for all. I screwed the contraption as tight as I could, and then even tighter. Under the stress unfortunately, the thing was about as durable as its case. It cracked and now wouldn't stay shut.

So it wouldn't exactly stay shut, but I could live with that, or so I thought. During history sixth period, I was performing my usual idiosyncrasy of rapidly protracting and retracting my pen. Then the teacher called on me, and when I dropped the pen to answer, the pen exploded. Like literally. Part of it went about a eight feet away. It was quite the experience.

I thought that the incident was an isolated one and wouldn't happen again anytime soon. Again, I was mistaken. The self-destruct sequence kept auto-initiating, and pretty soon I was picking the pieces together every five minutes.

Armed with this potential weapon of mass destruction, I began to research ways of making it more lethal and stable. After some experimentation, I found that if you clicked it rapidly enough times, it would blow up. Following more tweaking, it was discovered that if you unscrewed the pen slightly, the pen would spontaneously combust after one or two clicks.

I showed off my newfound secret weapon, shooting them at friends and such. However, I soon found that putting it back together every time it decided to fly apart, whether unintentionally or otherwise, was too much trouble, and I feared losing the spring. The pen is currently holding a place of honor in my collection of used up pens that are either nonrefillable or are awaiting replacement ink tubes.

Misplaced Sleep

2008-03-31T18:55:00.000-07:00

It's hard to remember life before middle school. But I remember this one from preschool:

Back in the day, we had these things called Afternoon Naps. The Teachers would lock themselves and us in the Sleeping Room. Then we'd unpack these metal cots and cover up with blankets that we brought from home, complete with teddy bear and Superman designs. When we were all tucked in, the Teachers would shoot out the lights. It used to take them quite a while before they discovered the light switch, because in case you've never rolled your eyes up while the teacher rambles on about trivial and boring things that we would never need later in life, classrooms have a lot of lights. When we were in complete darkness, they'd don their night vision goggles and patrol the room wearing black ninja suits. It wasn't good for someone to be caught awake by our captors.

Being hyper little Energizer bunnies, of course we wouldn't, couldn't sleep. We'd lie, quite uncomfortably, staring at who ever happened to be beside us. When the footsteps belonging to the Teachers came by, we'd squeeze our eyes shut and hoped the Teachers were gullible enough to be fooled by our pretend-sleep: they usually were and we prided ourselves on our acting skills.

If someone needed to go to the restroom, we'd all strain to see through the dark who needed to do their business, only to squeeze them shut as our eyes constricted to the sudden flooding of light through the gateway between unconsciousness and consciousness. Every once in a while, something stupid like a fart or some actually sleeping kid instantly awakening from an unexpected fall to the ground would evoke giggles that spread contagiously throughout the room until the Teachers came and told us to be quiet.

Finally, Afternoon Nap time was over. The light would come on, and we'd all pretend to be extremely annoyed by the rude awakening. We'd grumble, yawn, and rub our eyes. Afterwards, we'd "sleepily" put away all the beds and blankets and return to our classrooms. While we were taking our lessons, then we would finally sleep.

Looking back upon those preschool days, I laugh at the futile efforts of the Teachers to make us sleep. There's all this talk about sleeping for little kids, but it doesn't make sense. If we needed it, then we would sleep. Simple as that. It's a waste of time. We're young, and the world is wide. There's so much more to see than just the back of our eyelids.

I'm sure that they had good intentions for making us sleep. But if we could take all that time when we didn't need it and used it now, in high school. Everything must be balanced (except for fun). We can't have a sleep heavy part of our lives and then all of a sudden no sleep part of life. Then the universe will be thrown into chaos and we'll grow old, get stressed out, and have eye bags.

Art of Studying

2008-03-27T21:30:00.000-07:00

Some people study by reading their books. Other people study by reviewing notes. Still others quiz each other.

I believe that studying, in the academical review sense, is an obsolete practice.

In my experience, when people study by reading texts, they merely skim over it. They believe that in para-reading, they will refresh their memory. However, in almost all cases*, people only look at what they already know. Things that they don't know, they won't know to look at. And if you only look at what you already know, then you have expended effort and time for nothing.
The only way that studying by reading is practical is either by actually going through the text word by word, sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph and actually paying attention, which is harder said than done. The only other way books are useful if you know that there is something you don't know and you go back to learn that information.
Worst case scenario is that you simply read, but the information passes through without processing.

Other people study by reading notes. This has the potential to be beneficial, unless you wrote the notes yourself. Chances are, you will make the mistake of looking over what you know, since writing down things helps people remember. On that note (no pun intended), you can take it upon yourself to transcribe the notes, which is almost guaranteed to help you remember everything. But writing (and even typing) entire scripts can be quite laborious and time-consuming.

Peer testing might also be a viable way to study, but unless you have high self-discipline, it is quite likely that your study session will degenerate into an entirely different tangent**.

Completing mock tests and reviews are probably the best way to go. Like transcribing, however, it is quite the time consuming, and it assumes that you will not fall prey to procrastination.

I personally tudy very little, if at all.
My philosophy: Either you know it or you don't.
If you don't know it, tough luck. If you do know it, well, then you can pride yourself on avoiding an atrocious, inefficient act in studying. You have saved time, eye strain, and brain strain better spent on self-gratifying activities such as composing blogs and instant messaging.

*Throughout my testing and limited studying career.
**Girls will end up talking about boys and shopping. Guys will end up verbally assaulting each other's mothers and begin a fist-fight. Girls and guy might end up flirting.
Note: This post should not be considered as professional advice on studying. Moufflets is not responsible for any negative results incurred by the influence of this post.

The Ultimate Procrastination Environment

2008-03-27T07:12:00.000-07:00

Six projects: English, English, English, English, Biology, and History. Then throw in a pile of math homework that you can't understand.

It's bad alright. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is, none of them are due right away.

This situation is perfect for procrastination. Add in a blog to write, a newly reformatted computer than you need customize to your exact preferences, an Instant Messaging program that you can't seem to shut down, and new book by Matthew Reilly (review coming soon) that you can't wait to read, and a blog to write which you are reading at my expense.

Apparently, middle school, and even first semester was way too easy. I could procrastinate almost as much as I wanted and still be fine. Wikipedia calls it "genius procrastination." But I'm not used to this sudden work overload and now I have degraded into the "tense-afraid" type with a hint of "relaxed."

It frightens me sometimes. Here I am, in my first year of high school, and I'm already feeling overwhelmed. Three more years to go, and not even any APs yet.

But for now, first things first. We always get over it, even if it means cramming.

"Hard work often pays off over time, but laziness always pays off now."

Extra help for those who need it.

Chinese Tea Party

2008-03-23T16:32:00.000-07:00

Today, I had to learn how to attend a tea ceremony at my Chinese school.

Okay. Before we could even enter the tea room, which was actually just an assembly hall, we had to wash our hands. They had these not-so-clean looking stone bowls with lemon slices floating around. They probably hoped that citric acid could disinfect us.

While we were waiting outside, I noticed something. My Chinese school is supposed to be a nonprofit organization, yet I noticed that they had flat screen TV's and even security cameras. I'm sure that there could be some better use for that wealth.*

Finally, the people were ready for us. Then it was like a roller coaster ride. They split us up into groups of six and we went off, headed by a mute lady. Buckle up, keep your hands clasped in front of you, your head bowed to your chest, don't scream, and enjoy the ride.

The layout of the room included a small raised ledge in front of the entrances. It would've proposed a small obstacle in getting around, but there was a space in the center. On the other side of this ledge, were our little Rubbermaid tables and chairs, fit for little children about half my size.

You would have thought that you would walk down the middle to get to your tables. Quite on the contrary. We were lead, single file like back in the olden elementary school days, using the longest way possible to get to our tables. When we finally got there, we couldn't sit just yet. We had to walk, twice, around our tables before we finally took our seats. It is important to note that everything was done as slowly as possible and that meditative music with the annoying plucking of an out of tune lute was playing.

I thought that my legs could finally take a break from the tedious tip-toeing, but as soon as we sat down we had to stand back up to bow to a portrait of an old monk I suspected was the founded of the school's foundation*. Great, now my back gets to ache. Where's that Advil?

Next on the agenda, meditation. They told us to close our eyes and listen as they put on some computer-generated noise that vaguely resembled bird calls, windy tundras, and rushing woodland streams. Apparently, it was enough to fool some people, because they answered with birds and wind. I, alone in reality, smugly answered a "CD player". The other students must have thought I was hearing things because they began laughing. But I knew better.

We sat back down again for a lesson on taking off shoes. Everything must be done slowly and considerately to others. You can't kick of your shoes; you must nicely remove them. You also can't leave it right in front of the door, for it would block others way. So being courteous, you very slowly bend down, pick up your shoes, and slowly deposit them to the side. While you take your sweet time trying not to inconvenience others, people are standing behind you, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for their turn to get in the way of others.

Also, when putting back on your shoes, you must pick up your shoes, slowly as usual, and walk else where to put them on, even though it'd be faster just to stick your feet into them and start stamping. Better hope you're wearing black socks, because they never get dirty the more that you wear 'em the blacker they get.

Thankfully, the shoe tutorial was over. Now, it was time for tea serving enlightenment. How you carry the tray is quite important. You can't carry it too high, because that would seem like something is dirty. Understandable. You can't carry it too low, because it makes you seem lazy and efficient. Not so understandable. You have to carry in the most energy-consuming way possible; your hands must be completely flat underneath the try, with your thumbs gripping the side so as to provide the most uncomfortable position and maximize your chances for wrist injury.

As if you didn't bow enough, you have to bow when serving the tea, as well as having the most artificial of smiles plastered upon your face.

At any rate, several ladies brought us our tea. We then had to take turns pouring the tea into cubic centimeter cups in a counter-clockwise fashion. Say thank you to your pourer. Smile. Pick up the pitcher. Pour. Acknowledge thank you. Set pitcher down. Time consuming, isn't it? The tea, they explained, was a special tea custom grown for the organization. My hopes brightened. Perhaps it was an exotic boba milk tea. Fertilizer. The stuff was yellow and tasted like your everyday mass-produced Asian tea.

The hostess then said, "Help yourselves." I grabbed the teeny cup and prepared to throw it back, but apparently, the hostess wasn't quite done speaking. We're supposed to daintily hold your cup with your pinky finger stuck out. Just kidding. Using your thumb and forefinger, grip the cup near the lips while supporting it from the bottom with your other three fingers. It was so unstable that I was constantly scared that I would spill.

Highlight of the day. Snacks. But no crumpets. I was hoping to meet a moufflet cousin, without frosting. There was some red bean cake, a raisins and marshmallow skewer, and some interesting little droplet of a something. I braced myself for the proper way to eat. Perhaps you were supposed to nibble, seeing as how everything was supposed to be slowly done. But no instructions came, and I ate all of it in less than a minute. After eating all the food, I discovered something at the bottom of the little plate. It was a sprig of a green something, and it looked very pretty and not for eating. But, food was food, and I ate it anyways.

That about concludes the tea ceremony. On a final note, the instructor asked if we would like to share any comments. I went up there, and explained how I learned that we must do everything as slow as possible, walk as much possible, get scoliosis as much as possible, and use as much energy as possible, and be as inefficient as possible. The teacher just kept smiling. I thought it was just public relations, but somehow I had this feeling that she didn't know I was making fun of her. What she doesn't know won't hurt me.

*Kind of like Communism, isn't it?

Moufflets: a History

2008-03-22T11:36:00.000-07:00

Moufflets. It's French for muffins.

My English teacher once called our class that. Then someone decided, "No, we're cupcakes." Then our A.D.D. riddled class descended into a discussion about small hand-sized cakes that are generally cylindrical and have rounded conical tops, with our without frosting.

But why did I pick Moufflets? Well, it's a long story, you see. I was going to pick something like, "My two bits", or something along the lines, but apparently the domain names were taken. I would have been fine, but as it happens, the author of the blog first post was on November 12, 2003. Incidentally, it was also his last post. His post:

Here I am, world. My name's Mark, and this is my first blog. I'm 30 years old, and am currently in Oklahoma, U.S.A., as a United States Army soldier. I'm one of those people who annoys (only slightly) those around me by having the need to share whatever's on my mind. Welcome to the club. Enjoy your stay.

Well, now he's 35 years old, and he's annoying me (more than slightly) by having the need to share whatever is on his mind by taking up a perfectly good domain name. Other names such as "My two cents", was also taken.

"My two cents" did a little better than Mark over there at "My Two Bits". He made four posts, last one being in 2001; seven years and a day before I made my Moufflets blog. Interestingly, one of his four posts said, "I hate blogger!!!". So get off blogger and gimme your domain name, thank you very much. On the other hand, those names now sound a bit corny. I think moufflets was the best choice afterall.

So that concludes the history of the naming of this blog, which incidentally is not the main topic of this blog.

Whitley Strieber - 2012: the War for Souls

2008-03-21T22:04:00.001-07:00

I have decided to include book reviews on my blog, so now you have something practical to look forward to amongst my random and inflammatory posts. Of course, the books I read are not necessarily practical books themselves.

Today's special:

2012: the War for Souls
Written by Whitley Strieber
Genre: Science Fiction
Published by Tor Books
ISBN: 978-0-7653-1896-1

The Mayans predicted that on December 21, 2012, the world would end, or least the human part of it. Well, in this book, fourteen sacred sites around the world (such as the Great Pyramids and Easter Island among them), are blown up and replaced by black lens. These black lens emit mysterious orange balls of light which go about zapping people's souls out of them. Then devil babies collect the souls to sell to themselves and stuff. There's a parallel universe in which a guy named Wylie Dale is writing a book called 2012 which is about what happens in the book and no matter what he does he cannot erase 2012. Anyways, in the other parallel universe, which has two small moons and is where all the chaos is taking place, whatever Wylie Dale rights happens. Then there's all this mumble jumble about looking into your soul and such and the good guys win in the end.

Rating: 7 / 10

This book is really quite confusing. It flips between two parallel universes, and which one the story really takes place in is quite hard to understand. That's mostly all of the bad, but it counts for a lot. There's nice weaving in of mythical figures, and the story gets really fast paced and exciting towards the end, especially since you get used to the flip flopping between universes by then. The story also dips into the subtleties of human consciousness and soul-science, which is rather unique.
I would recommend this book only if you're willing to withstand the rigors of its twisting plot, but wish to get rewarded later on. But if you're looking for something about the end of the world, I would recommend Domain by Steve Alten. Same great integration of ancient and magical creatures, but with none of the confusion. Steve Alten's sequel is also recommended, as it goes into the paradox of time loops.

Shower Episodes

2008-03-19T21:34:00.000-07:00

Showering is a sacred time.
It is a time of peace, renewal, and singing without worrying about anyone else hearing.
But sometimes bad things desecrate this wonderful time

Bloody Noses
You just washed your body, and then your hands go to your face and then come down bloody. Of all the times to have a bloody nose, why the shower? Everything is wet, so the blood runs all over the place. You tilt your head up, hoping to stop the flow, only to have blood run down your throat as your attempt to shampoo your hair. Finally, you've had enough. You slide open the door and reach around trying to find the toilet paper. On your first grab, you find wall. On the second grab, you find more wall while your arm drips water all over the floor. Finally, you find the roll. You try to get it off the roll holder and almost drop axle into the toilet. With the roll in your hand, you rip off a length of the Charmin ultra, leaving wet fingerprints on the super-absorbent (you didn't think of this when you bought that twelve pack) Charmin ultra roll. Then you ball the paper up and plug it into your nose, after which you suffer the indignity of the plug and go through the difficulty of trying to finish showering without getting the nose plug soggy. For the grand finale, you have to attempt to dry and dress yourself without getting blood on your towel and clothes. Bloody noses sure make bliddy messes.

Blackouts
Other bad things include blackouts, leaving you to shower in the dark. Luckily, the heater is still running (unless your living in San Francisco in the year 1906 and there's been an earthquake, then tougher luck) and you have warm water. But don't trip on the soap or bang your cranium on the shower head.

Who flushed the toilet!?!
Also, don't you just hate it when you've got the water running at the perfect temperature, and then someone in the house either flushes the toilet or uses the hot water. Meanwhile, you're unaware of this unauthorized water usage, and continue showering. Then, not gradually, the water suddenly becomes extremely hot or extremely cold, making you jump and then land on your back on the rather dense shower floor. But that's not enough. The water doesn't return to normal for about a minute, which in the meantime you are trying to avoid the hostile water and shivering the cold air while that moron at the other end of the pipe goes about oblivious to your suffering. Whatever happened to first come first serve?

Second Period Rush Hour

2008-03-16T13:43:00.000-07:00

"Sorry honey, I'm going to be late to dinner tonight. I'm stuck in the second period rush hour. It's bad, you know how it is in the hallways."

That poor man above needn't be late if it weren't for idiots talking in the hallways, although that man shouldn't have been on the road using a cell phone, anyways.

First of all, the hallways are bad enough. Take two hundred people and their backpacks and stuff them into a 100 meter stretch of space that's legally only supposed to hold about a hundred people. Now each make individual move in random directions against the flow traffic, which either doesn't exist or is going everywhere at once. It's pretty bad all right.

But wait. Now throw in a couple of idiots strategically stopping in the middle of an intersection to talk. Are your friends accidents or something? Because that's how traffic builds up on the highways. Accidents don't cause congestion all by themselves; they need idiots to stop and take part in them.

Anyways, the friends must be accidents because people also decide that they need to engage in a Public Display of Affection and hug, kiss, or hold hands when someone is trying to squeeze through between them.

Balloons and slow walking people are also quite annoying. It's quite hard to resist the urge to go up to someone who happens to be acquainted with the one of the worst kinds of friends (ones who are bad enough to give balloons), and ask how old they are. After that, you punch them that many times multiplied by the number of helium filled rubber bags they're carrying. Slow people you just want to sock in the back of their heads and walk over them.

That about sums up the chaos during passing period at my high school. As an afterthought, throw in a couple self-important proctors and their golf carts with flame decals.

Note: Zoom closer for better view at the text.

Inhuman or Superhuman?

2008-03-11T07:21:00.000-07:00

Look closely at the person sitting next to you?

It's possible that he or she is a robot in disguise. But how can they be?
Are they not a little to perfect, too beautiful, too smart even though they don't perform a perpetual robot dance and they don't speak monotonously?
Don't be fooled, that was then. With today's technology, it wouldn't be too hard for someone with the right tools to create a computer that could pass the Turing test, a test to see whether or not a human could tell if a computer speaker is human, and took and act like a human.

I have a friend like that*. She gets straight A's, is Speech and Debate among other things, and plays the violin like a pro. In seventh grade, I finally realized that she wasn't human. No real human could do that all that and still have a life. And so I confronted her/it about it, but all she would do is get mad at me in a very human way and perhaps whack me in a very human sign of mock anger. The first time she whacked me I braced myself in case her super/inhuman strength would send me flying through the wall. Apparently, this robot model is aware of its strength and can restrain itself; a step up from the blunt T-80 models Skynet used to send back in time. In any case, she wouldn't admit that she wasn't truly one of us.

Robots are sure good keepers of secrets.

The Worst of Society

2008-03-09T19:40:00.000-07:00

Here are three types of people society could do without:

Rude People
Honestly, do people have to be so rude? It's not even about the rudeness itself actually. It's about the lack of finesse with which they go about pissing other people off. They resort to lame comebacks such as "You're gay," or "[insert expletive] you." Then there's the proverbial "Your Mom" stabs. "I'm going to go do your mom". "You're mom's a [whatever you and your rude friend are talking about]." You don't even have to be arguing for them to say that. Perhaps your silence is offending them. It's a sign of weakness actually, because it only goes to show that they don't have the guts to actually offend you directly. If you're going to be rude, at least show some wit.

Litterbugs
Stop throwing your trash all over the place! We know you want to be fat and lazy, but losing that one calorie to walk to the trash can and throw it away isn't going to prevent you from blocking up your arteries.

People Who Write L1k3 Th1s
Why d0 P30pl3 th1Nk 1t i5 "c00l" t0 wR1t3 1k3 th1s?
Do you know how much energy I put into writing those eleven words in the sentence above? I could have thrown away made a hundred trips to throw away trash, and in addition, the holiday colors of Spell Check and "Sentence Fragment: Please consider revising" is driving me crazy. People may think writing in proper English is too much work, yet they contradict themselves by typing in this inefficient orthography. It's quite illogical to put so much effort into something that does not serve your own selfish interests, much less damage it.
It appears that this butchering of the ASCII language occurs a lot when people make their screen names*. When exchanging SN's, idiot "l337" speakers must say their name and then instruct me to convert every convertible letter into a number. Wouldn't it be so much easier to write their names in proper English and then add all those numbers at the end of the word like the computer always suggest when you use a name that's been taken?
Imagine what would happen if they were allowed to use symbols in their screen names.

*As if that's not bad enough, screen names of dunces like these tend not to make sense when spoken verbally and/or are preceded and/or followed by "xX" or "<3">

Dramatic Stereotypes

2008-03-08T18:47:00.000-08:00

Dramas have a long and disgusting history. Why people enjoy drams is quite remarkable. Maybe they have a lack of drama in their own lives, or perhaps enjoy wasting precious water over needless tears.

Contemporary Dramas:
Taiwanese Dramas (tDRMA)*
These dramas from a country that is still in the process of determining whether or not it is actually part of China, and therefore whether or not its drama productions should be known as Mandarin (mDRMA) or Chinese Drams are usually based on romances, which is part of the reason while it is bad. There are many different shows, but most of them involve students attending a college or university falling into love triangles before they have a means to support themselves. Actually, let me rephrase that. They must have some kind of monetary aid as they dress expensively and have extravagant haircuts. However, this goes against everything we know of Asian culture. What kind of Asian parent would allow their kids to fall in love, much less lend money for unnecessary things before the child has become CEO of some big corporation? Most films also star a male(s) who make most Asian girls swoon and has a decidedly Asian haircut, usually with bangs. These shows are also produced in Taiwanese or Mandarin and requires subtitles to understand. Some tDRMA is complementary to the storylines of mangas (mDRMA).

Korean Dramas (kDRMA)*
Korean dramas are a close cousin of Taiwanese dramas and feature an Asian male whom Korean and non-Korean girls alike find physically combustible with an Asian helmet-style "fob" hairdo. The women are usually lightly-skinned and may also have a helmet hair. The characters enjoy dressing in formal or semi-formal costumes and are also falling in love. But a simple romance is not enough. There has to be some kind of love polygon and a girl with cancer**. kDRMAs are renowned for having numerous and lengthy flashbacks accompanied by melodramatic music. The one and only drama that I do not consider a waste is Da Jang Geum because it is about food (although not muffins) and I like food. Taiwanese and Korean Dramas also have bad transitions. You're watching the show, and it's about time for a commercial break. So then you keep watching, an all of a sudden the show just cuts. Like cut with a scissor. There's no transition, no fade out, no real ending.

Western Dramas
English speaking dramas are usually either about doctors, crime-scene investigation, law suits, and well, teenage romance, and sex. Western dramas also have an element of romance in them (as does everything). In CSIs, the investigators talk about the love lives of dead bodies; in medical shows, doctors flirt with each other over dying bodies; in law shows, they court each other in court, and in sex shows, they physically display their love.
To their credit, at least they have variety.

Older Dramas:
Chinese Dramas (cDRMA)
Chinese dramas are absolutely horrific. They involve men with long, wispy beards in bathrobes and boxy headgears and men in women's clothes with powdered faces. They speak in whiny voices and are accompanied by a weird plucked instrument and an infernal pot-and-pan.
The Communists have also left their grimy marks on drama, using it as a form of propaganda.

European Dramas
European dramas are also known as operas. Not deserving to be called classical music (with the exception of Phantom of the Opera), they star bearded men with liquid grain storage devices (beer bellies) and women who are gifted with the ability to control their screams.
Going further back in time, we arrive at the Medieval Age. The dramas here were written by Shakespeare, which I have never watched, and hardly read. However, they must have been a pain to understand with the language thou useth in thy plays.

Greek Dramas
No comment.

*Descriptions applicable to both.
Wikipedia used as a source.
**Idea from a friend.

The Holy Bell

2008-03-07T21:42:00.000-08:00

The Bell is omnipotent.
It is the creator of Time. The Bell starts the day, and the Bell ends the day. The Bell created school, classwork, lunch, and homework in five days. The Bell in Its mercy gave us the sixth and seventh day to do the homework that the Bell created for us.

The Bell is omnipresent.
It is in A Hall, it is in G Hall, it is in J Building, it is everywhere but P Lot.

The Bell is our Savior.
It rings to save you from the boredom of class. It rings to save you from answering the question that you don't know.

The Bell is our Judge.
Those who believe and follow the Bell will arrive on time and are awarded by having no tardies or truancies. Those who do not follow the Bell are punished are dragged to the depths of the Attendance Office by Deans upon their golf-carts.

The Bell shut up in June to save its students, its children, whom it could care neither more nor less for. The Bell was resurrected in September to punish the indolence of its children over the summer.

The Bell gave the Principal Ten Commandments to rule the Principal's students:

I am the Bell and I dismiss you, but the teacher's dismissal over rules me.

You shall not listen to an iPod in class.

Listen for the Bell and do not be late.

Honor your teacher and your Principal.

You shall not throw things in class.

You shall not commit sexual harassment.

You shall not steal in the locker rooms.

You shall not lie to your teachers.

You will not covet the answers of your classmates.

You will not covet the grade of A- or below.

Inspired by Elie Wiesel's Night.

The bell. Already we must separate, go to bed. Everything was regulated by the bell. It gave me orders, and I automatically obeyed them. I hated it. Whenever I dreamed of a better world, I could only imagine a universe with no bells.

Check out the Assertive Atheist's Ten Commandments.

Cheesy Romances

2008-03-06T19:06:00.000-08:00

Why would anyone want to read a cheesy romance?
They can make you cry and they can make you laugh, but in the end, they are what they are: cheesy.

There is no more a static genre than romances, even compared to non-fiction. In fact, they all have the same contents.

Boy meets girl.
Girl meets boy.
They engage in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

I have listed the three stages of the Archetypal Romance Story. These can be shuffled in any order you like, and 3 x 2 x 1 equals 6. There can only be six unique storylines, yet illogically there are somehow more than six books. Sophie Kinsella (author of the Shopaholic series) herself has written more than six books, as has Nicholas Sparks. Why any decent author would plagiarize, much less copy themselves, is beyond me.

Furthermore, cheesy romances are a threat to society. It is books like these that may turn our world into one avidly described by Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451. We must read books that allow us to think, imagine, and go beyond the limits of reality such as mindless books with Rambo-style action that cause you to unconsciously start making your own sound effects to match the explosions and gunfire tearing the book apart and revel in the unnatural skills that the hero possesses. Unfortunately, the brain washing of romance has already begun. There are no longer any purely action movies. Nearly every movie or story has some kind of relationship in them, ruining everything.

Recommended Unromantic Authors:

John Ringo
Matthew Reilly
Harry Turtledove

Sinister Soybeans

2008-03-05T21:51:00.001-08:00

I am fairly certain that soybeans are attempting world domination.
These hairy little legumes are as Wikipedia describes it, "small, inconspicuous, [and] self-fertile". I am pretty sure that there is some extra large Master Bean lying somewhere underneath Beijing, pale white and pulsating.

At first, the soybean was just a seemingly innocent and useless plant being utilized for fertilizer. Now these things are everywhere! They're trying to replace salt, milk, and turkey! And as if it's not bad enough, they're trying to replace the staple diet of meat!

After interrogation (not by torture of course, for that would be inlegume), a bean revealed to me that the plan was to replace every one of our food sources and then secrete some hormone that allows them to exert mind-control over us. Rumor has that the soybeans may have been genetically engineered by North Koreans* to become a sentient hive organism.

The soybean's also have a contingency plan. They display temporary "beneficial" effects, deluding health conscious people to increase their demands for more soy products. Rain forests have been cleared away to make room for soy farms, attributing to less rainfall in the region, where clean water is not always available. In fact, planting soy fields is worse than using the same land to graze cows.

According to Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:

[Each] major Galatic civilization tends to pass through through three distinct and recognizable phases, those of Survival, Inquiry and Sophistication, otherwise known as the How, Why and Where phases.
For instance, the first phase is characterized by the question How can we eat? the second by the question Why do we eat? and the third by the question Where shall we have lunch?

Humans, as a civilization, have surely gotten to the point of Sophistication. As a Sophisticated species, have developed techniques to synthesize flavorful foods. It would be unseemly for us to regress to the point of eating a compost-heap of soy "meat", which is bland, gray, textureless**, as well as detrimental. Soy contains phytoestrogens, which simulates the effects of the female signature hormones and phytates, which hampers the absorption of minerals. This could be a problem for boys, who if fed soy products at an early age may find themselves with small mammary glands and/or small penises.

Finally, processed foods are becoming notorious for causing cancer and other bad things, so why take the chance of eating mechanically-separated patties made from pesticide-sprayed soy grown on farms worked by cheap labor where quality-check is unheard of? So spare yourselves and eat the real thing. Eat meat!

*Unverified sources.
** Verified primary source: try it yourself. Nutritional information. Beneficial information disregarded.

Animal Farm: Lenin Left Out?

2008-03-05T07:08:00.000-08:00

There comes a time in life when you are supposed to read Animal Farm (George Orwell 1945), or at least in my case, watch the movie.

Watching a movie usually has good, relaxing connotations, but nooo, our teacher just has to toss us a packet and tell us to fill it out as we watch.

So we start filling it out. We establish in class that Snowball Leon Trotsky, Napoleon the evil Stalin. But when all was said and done, we were missing someone. I racked my mind. Hitler? No. George W. Bush? Ahah! It was Lenin.

At first glance, it seems like Old Major could be Lenin. It still does seem like Old Major could be Lenin at second glance. But my history teacher says that Old Major is Marx. So we go on to talk about Benjamin the jackass and all the other "common" animals, but still no Lenin. Outrageous. There could be no Russian Revolution without Lenin! What was George Orwell thinking?

So, as we are supposed to do when we have questions, I asked the teacher. She kept saying, "We're not there yet," although she keeps talking about the Building of the Windmill even though we truly aren't there yet in the movie. So I wait, and the movie's over and still no sign of Lenin.

Perhaps the Russian Revolution never really happened*?

*A poke at those idiots who don't believe the Holocaust or the Armenian Genocide.

Vernacular Dancing in the 21st Century

2008-03-04T17:32:00.000-08:00

There are many types of dances out there, and the only one I've ever truly learned was the Chicken Dance, which was ingrained into me ever since extraterrestrial sentient green egg-yolks abducted me to feed to a ginormous three-eyed chicken god known as Poultra.

But recently, some friends of mine have learned several types of dancing. These vertical expressions of horizontal desires legalized by music are quite fascinating.
Perhaps it is part of Homo sapien behavior. I suppose it is a step up from the primeval "cock-fights" and territorial disputes among belligerent male packs that infest the less-civilized areas of our world. Or maybe this dancing is a way to display one's adeptness at damaging one's body in order to attract members of the opposite sex (Note: Is it possible that the nomenclature for "breakdancing" comes from the damaged bodies that result from this physically demanding activity?)

I will continue to observe this unique phenomena and post further insights.

It all started here...

2008-03-03T17:09:00.000-08:00

It all started when I was sitting in zero period Academic Decathlon, reading 15 Minute Lunch's blog and decided that I wanted to write my own blog. Blog. Everyone seems to be using that word. But what is a blog?

So Googled it. "Blog":

A sponsored ad for some blog space.

Then some stock information for BLOG. Maybe I can invest in my own blog; buy a share of myself. After all, it's gone up 2.62% (Mar 3 7:45pm ET).

Next, a link to Blogger. That makes more sense than the stock lookout on Bladelogic, Inc. Never heard of that company.
Then we have Google Blog. How modest of them not to put themselves on top of the list.

After Google Blog, there's Facebook blog. There's a little blurb:

The Blog: Since
you're here reading, you know what the blog is. This is a good place to
get extended information about what's going on at Facebook. ...

Quite on the contrary. There's a reason why I'm researching "blog".

John Schwartz's Blog.

A weblog site maintained by
the CEO and President of Sun Microsystems, featuring insight to the company and
its products.

Now why in the world would I want to know about Sun Microsystems? This link should've been found on the googleth (please let me know if there is a proper word involving 'google' that means "In the very back") page.

What I was really looking for (which I cheated and clicked on before I wrote all this before), was Wikipedia. By some oversight, it turns out that Wikipedia was the between Blogger and Facebook Blog. Wikipedia says,

A blog (a portmanteau of web log) is a website where entries are commonly displayed in reverse chronological order. "Blog" can also be used as a verb, meaning to maintain or add content to a blog.
Many blogs provide commentary or news on a particular subject; others function as more personal online diaries. A typical blog combines text, images, and links to other blogs, web pages, and other media related to its topic. The ability for readers to leave comments in an interactive format is an important part of many blogs. Most blogs are primarily textual, although some focus on art (artlog), photographs (photoblog), sketchblog, videos (vlog), music (MP3 blog), audiopodcasting) are part of a wider network of social media. Micro-blogging is another type of blogging which consists of blogs with very short posts. As of December 2007, blog search engine Technorati was tracking more than 112 million blogs.

What will my blog be? We shall see.