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Nestled in the North-Eastern corner of Pennsylvania, we are students anxious to share our thoughts with the world! We gladly welcome comments from EVERYONE! To see student work, scroll down to student entries on the right, or select an assignment under teacher assignments and scroll beyond the directions.



by Kelly S teacher: Melanie Transue
Class Assignments
Just For Fun!! 09/11
Blog Entries

Article posted June 1, 2012 at 04:02 AM GMT0 • comment • Reads 263

Missing, Pressumed Dead.



May Freewrite



There was once a girl named Caroline. Seventeen years old and in her junior year of high school, she was excited for school to end. The end of the year was but four days away, and she was overflowing with energy for the start of summer and for her senior year that was so close in her future. She lived in a small town, where you could walk just about anywhere, and it was here she could be found on this bright, sunny day, four days before the end of school. One of the last days of school had just ended, and she was walking home, keeping to the sidewalks. Caroline lived on the edge of town, so a fair portion of her walk home, she walked alone. As she walked, sometimes dancing down the sidewalk, she didn’t realize, never being one to pay close attention to her surroundings, that a small car was following her slowly down the street. She still hadn’t realized this, when all of a sudden it stopped, the car still running, and a man stepped out.


He ran up behind her and tackled her, pulling her to the ground and covering her mouth. Caroline was stunned, stricken with panic, frozen with fear. She could do nothing, paralyzed with shock as she was. Then her instincts kicked in and she started to kick and squirm, dropping her bag and attempting to yell. The man had clamped her mouth pretty tight however, and she made no more noise than a muffled grunt. He dragged her into his car, forced a wad of cloth into her mouth, and slammed her onto the floor in the back of his car. He threw a large blanket over her body, hiding her. The man then proceeded to drive on calmly; a fairly short time did he drive. Caroline could tell that he wasn’t taking her much farther than the town limits. She wondered what he would do with her; if she would live to see anyone else again. He then stopped the car, got out, opened the backseat door, and yanked her out of the vehicle, still keeping her head covered. She felt a sharp pain to the back of her head, and then everything went black.


Caroline was missing for days. Search parties were sent out; friends were questioned, attempts were made to seek out witnesses, everything possible was done to at least find out what had happened to her, but no one knew. Time went on, years passed, and Caroline became old news, just another faceless kid on the long list of missing children in the country. She became nothing more than a statistic, remembered most only by her parents and other family.


No one knew, that just outside of that small town, a short walk into a small area of woods, a hole had been dug, and in it, laid the body of Caroline, seventeen years old forever. Although she was presumed dead, her body was never found, even though her remains deteriorated not even a mile from her town.


Missing children are a serious issue. Everything possible should be done to find them. Should you ever see a poster, news article, or any such thing alerting the public to a disappeared child, give it more than a passing thought of pity. What if that child was you?

Article posted June 1, 2012 at 04:02 AM GMT0 • comment • Reads 263



Article posted May 16, 2012 at 05:16 PM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 70

 



Dear fresh freshman;


Congradulations, you're in ninth grade. High school is generally portrayed in two very different ways. The first makes high school seem like one of the worst experiences you have endured so far, and that you will be constantly counting down the days of the years you have left. The second makes high school seem like a wonderful and dandy place where all you will have the best days of your life. On average, it’s a bit of both, but mostly you’re just living through it. If you never do your school work and basically act like a jerk, you will not have a good time at all. If you do your work and are nice enough to most everyone, you will not have so bad a time.


 Classes aren’t as bad as they sound. This advice applies to all of them; do the work, pay sufficient attention, and refrain from being annoying and irrelevant. If you’re respectable to the teachers, they’ll be nice to you. In Civics, and probably any class, don’t attempt to listen to your ipod or other music device while the teacher is talking. Not only is that extremely obnoxious, but you will be called out on it. One of the biggest fabrications they will ever tell you in high school is that you will have enough time to get to all your classes punctually. You don’t. This is a horrible lie. So you will be required to haul it down the hallway; especially for English and Health. Don’t be late for English.


The best thing about being a freshman is that you are no longer in junior high. Nothing else surpasses this fact. However, don’t get a swollen head about it. You’re still at the bottom of the totem poll, so to speak. Don’t be offended, everyone starts there. Seniority and respect can only be gained through experience and time. Be a commendable person.


Sincerely,


Kelly

Article posted May 16, 2012 at 05:16 PM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 70



Article posted May 9, 2012 at 05:22 PM GMT0 • comment (2) • Reads 92

Singing In My Sleep



Sing It Out blog



Just about everyone is forced to read that well known classic Romeo & Juliet in high school English. Many have also heard references to those famous characters in multiple songs. One song that I’ve heard such an allusion is in the song “Singing in My Sleep” by Semisonic.


Specifically, it is Juliet that is being referred to in this song. The lyrics say, “I’ve been living in your cassette/ it’s the modern equivalent/ singing up to a Capulet/ on a balcony in your mind.” The author of this song, Dan Wilson, guitarist and songwriter of Semisonic, is not the first to make such allusions to the famous tale of Romeo & Juliet. He, like most all others, uses the reference to tell a story of love. This is not quite fully correct depiction.


I think this song by Semisonic, while a good song, is an inaccurate description of the real story of Romeo and Juliet. This song paints a picture of a modern teenage romance, with no tragic twists, which is very different from the real story. The song starts out sounding very similar to the story of Romeo & Juliet, but it pretty much then stops there. It is only similar to the beginning, when Romeo and Juliet are convinced they’ll live happily ever after with their new married-life that isn’t so different from their old unmarried lives. The song says nothing of any real problems, tragedy, or, most importantly, death. A lot of Shakespeare’s tragedy plays are characterized by the quantity of death in them. The song mentions nothing of any of those.


In conclusion, though “Singing In My Sleep,” by Semisonic is a wonderful song, it’s allusion to the famous story of Romeo & Juliet is not a very accurate depiction.

Article posted May 9, 2012 at 05:22 PM GMT0 • comment (2) • Reads 92



Article posted April 13, 2012 at 03:01 AM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 140

Stereotypes Do No Justice.



April Freewrite



The two boys came thundering down the stairs, laughing and talking. One of them, the one who lived in the house they were in, grabbed a set of car keys off the kitchen counter and started out the door. His mother, who was in the laundry room folding clothes, came out holding a half-folded shirt and shouted


“Wait!”


The two stopped in their tracks.


“Yes?” the son inquired.


“Where are you boys off to?” his mother asked, attempting to make it sound like a casual question.


“We’re going over to Ben’s for the day, he just opened his pool,” he answered with a patient tone.


“How long will you be gone? Will his mother be there? How long does it take you to get to Ben’s? What roads are you going to take? How many guys will be there? Will there be any girls there? Are they going to feed you? When will you get home? Are you-”


“Mom,” he cut her off, “we’ll be fine. I’ll drive safe and have dinner over there. It’s just gonna be me and the guys. If anything happens, I’ll call you.”


His mother didn’t look altogether reassured, but she let them leave. Once in the car, the boy’s friend turned to him and said,


“Why does she always seem to think you drive like we're holding up a bank? Or that we’re going to do something horrible, like murder the elderly couple down the street?"


 The son replied,


"Because that's what teenagers do, right? They also carve swastikas into their arms, steal prescription drugs from old people, and have drug addictions. I need to institute a policy where she stops watching 60 Minutes and pretty much all public service announcements."


His friend snorted and agreed.


"I don't think they realize we're not all the same," he said.


Don’t base your judgments on the general image created by society’s stereotypes.

Article posted April 13, 2012 at 03:01 AM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 140



Article posted March 24, 2012 at 08:48 PM GMT0 • comment (6) • Reads 62

Little Elves Don't Actually Exist, So Why Write About Them?



March Freewrite



                         There was once a happy little elf who liked to sing and dance. He lived in a hollow tree with all his animal friends. Every day was a happy one filled with merriment and fun. He never had any concerns, nothing but joy. One day, a shy young badger moved into the hollow tree. He was new, and very self-conscious, so he kept to himself and didn’t interact much. The little elf did not like to see the poor badger alone, so he invited him to join in his games and happiness. The badger agreed, and made many new friends. Everyone had the best day of their lives. And the little elf-


“No, no, no. That’s ridiculous. No one would ever read such an awful story. Terrible.”


                       The man pulled the piece of paper out from his typewriter, crunched the story into a tight ball, and threw it in the direction of the waste basket. It missed and landed on the floor next to the bin. Sighing, he stood up, kicked his chair aside, and strode over to where his paper lay on the floor. Picking it up, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket, lit it on fire, and dropped it. He watched as the flame devoured the paper, leaving a small pile of smoldering ashes in the basket.


                      He then put on his jacket, laced up his work boots, and went to pick up his daughter for the weekend from his ex-wife's house.

Article posted March 24, 2012 at 08:48 PM GMT0 • comment (6) • Reads 62



Article posted March 2, 2012 at 02:58 AM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 66

Music: There Is A Song For Everything



Representin'



Your body hunched around its shape, you have absolutely no control over your facial expressions as you play the notes and chords of your very soul. Fingers dancing along the frets of the neck, the rhythm pours out your fingertips and into the instrument you’re holding. The different types of guitars represent different kinds of styles.


The 6-string electric guitar represents a wilder, louder style, with much improvisation and raw feeling. It usually draws the most attention.


The 6-string acoustic guitar embodies a more original side, filled with more slow and bluesy music to mix in with wonderful harmonies of two acoustics combined.


The bass guitar symbolizes a deeper kind of sound that seems to make the organs inside your very ribcage thrum with the bass line. Without the bass, every composition would seem a little shallower, emptier, as if it was missing something very important, which it would be; the bass is like the framework of a song, everything is built on top of it. The bass seems to complete everything. Not many people usually hear or pay special attention to the bass line, but at the same time if it wasn’t there, you can be sure you’d notice the difference. Bass makes everything better.


The 8-string guitar represents sophistication, a high level of success, for you need great skill to be able to master it. Not any guitar-playing Joe from off the street can pick one up and play a respectable riff.


The 12-string guitar represents teamwork, doing things better with others, togetherness. The twelve strings are merely two sets of the same six strings, and when played, sounds like two guitars. That too requires skill to master, but when it is mastered it’s a wonderful sound.


The many different types of guitars are a good representation of the varying types of style. They are also wonderful tools in creating music. Those who create music by playing instruments such as guitars tend to understand the powerful allure of music better than others, the way it ensnares and encompasses the very concept of emotion, but that is not always true. Anyone can love music with a passion to match the up-close glare of the sun.

Article posted March 2, 2012 at 02:58 AM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 66



Article posted February 14, 2012 at 07:55 PM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 56

The Ocean Can Be Friend Or Reaper



February Freewrite



There was once a girl who lived on the ocean shore. As she had grown up, the ocean had been her favorite friend; she went out on the beach every day, sometimes swimming, sometimes walking, and sometimes just sitting in the sand, listening to the ocean breathe. She swam very often; so often, that her natural hair color was bleached by the sun, and her skin was permanently salt-water scented. During the summer, she was out on the beach every day, from dawn until dusk and often later.


It was on one of these summer days that she was swimming, far out in the ocean, floating on the backs of the waves. She was out much farther than she had ever been before, but that had never worried her. She just continued swimming, treading water, observing the other-worldly landscape beneath the surface. However, she noticed the current changing; it was getting a little stronger than she was used to. Still she was unconcerned, for it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.


The current kept gaining more strength, steadily pushing her farther out to sea. When she noticed what was happening, she began to get a little worried. The waves were rougher out here, the flux of the ocean much stronger and wilder; she was having trouble keeping her head above the tumbling sea surf. She realized where she was; she was stuck in the rip tide. The only way to escape it would be to swim diagonally towards the beach. Although she could only see a small strip of land that was the shore, she began to swim, gaining little progress, her already-tired limbs getting quite heavy.


All of sudden, a very large wave rose up from the water and came crashing down, straight onto the girl. It felt like a hundred hands were pushing her down, forcing her deep under the water. She managed to kick her way back to the surface, but more waves had formed by then. They kept coming, crashing down upon her head, as though the ocean was determined to keep her under. She finally lost all strength to fight it. Her whole body was cold, her lungs were filled with salt water, and the tide was dragging her under.


Right there in the rip tide of the ocean, in the arms of her “favorite friend,” she drowned, her body sinking below the surface, coming to rest on the ocean floor. It was never found.

Article posted February 14, 2012 at 07:55 PM GMT0 • comment (3) • Reads 56



Article posted February 10, 2012 at 09:15 PM GMT0 • comment (4) • Reads 212

Feminists would not like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I am not a feminist.



Construction Theory



Feminists would frown upon the song “She Looks To Me” by Red Hot Chili Peppers because it implies that women aren’t as strong as men and the mentioned woman in the song supposedly needs a man to look up to.


In the song, the opinion that men are more enduring is projected; one verse of the lyrics says “who’s going to take you home when things aren’t so bright? She looks to me.” This verse, and almost all others in the song, implies that every woman needs a man to protect her when things get hard to handle.


Also in the song is the implied surmise that women need a man to idolize. The lyrics of the song say, “She’s searching for another light, she looks to me.” Feminists would most definitely criticize this, for it suggests that women are inferior to men; that women should look up to men.


Although it is, in my opinion, a wonderful piece of music by a magnificent band that has been making music for nigh on thirty years, feminists would not appreciate it so much because it generally implies that men are superior to women.

Article posted February 10, 2012 at 09:15 PM GMT0 • comment (4) • Reads 212



Article posted February 1, 2012 at 04:08 AM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 63

The Melodies of Crime (Folsom Prison Blues)



January Freespeak



It was a bright sunny day in the park. Children laughed and ran, playing their own made-up games, while protective adults smiled and watched them, picnicking beneath the shade of the leafy trees. A man walked along the sidewalk, a heavy guitar case in his hand, observing the children and enjoying the lovely day. This man loved music, thought that every minute of every day should be filled with it. So he decided he’d play his instrument, thinking maybe some people might get enjoyment out of it. He sat down on the grass, pulled out his acoustic guitar, and began to play. He wove wondrous melodies of music; the very trees seemed to wave in delight from it. Everyone in the park seemed to enjoy it as well, smiling at him in approval. That is, until a policeman appeared. He seemed angry, yelling about how the music man was disturbing the peace with his unnecessary noise. The policeman grabbed for the guitar, trying to take it away. This angered the music man. This was his instrument, the one thing he could speak with in a language understood by all, that which he expressed his every emotion and thought. No words could replace the music he made with his guitar. The fact that some unknowing policeman was trying to take this away from the man made him incredibly angry. He refused to give up his guitar. Next thing he knew, the music man was sitting in court, being charged with assaulting an officer. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but they said he had broken the policeman’s nose. The man told everyone that he could never hurt someone like that, that he couldn’t even recall throwing a punch, but no one listened. The music man received a sentence of three years in federal prison.







Voice Recorder >>

Article posted February 1, 2012 at 04:08 AM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 63



Article posted January 1, 2012 at 09:23 PM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 45

In Part III of Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, Will and Mr. Halloway are running through the darkened carnival, not a single light shining save for the moon, looking for Jim. During their frantic search they come across two of the carnivals freaks, standing in the darkness watching, waiting. Instead of attempting to capture the two, like they expect, the freaks stay where they are, hiding, making no move towards them. Will wonders at this, and Mr. Halloway says they must be scared.

Why are the carnival freaks scared of Will and Mr. Halloway?

Article posted January 1, 2012 at 09:23 PM GMT0 • comment (5) • Reads 45



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