Assignment 10- Ben Lambert

My neighbor in 2nd hour English is Caden Reynolds, a good friend of mine. Caden is a mellow fellow that I've been acquainted with since 6th grade. Though a bit shy around those he is unfamiliar with, he is an outgoing and energetic when with friends. He likes to stay physically active as an athlete. I have played lacrosse with him since 7th grade and ran cross country with him for freshman and sophomore year.
If I had to choose a color to describe him, it would probably choose purple. Close to blue, purple represents being calm and collected, as well as introversion. However, it is also a creative and intuitive color. These traits all represent Caden pretty well.
In 5 years, I see Caden being in a fraternity at a good public university.
Rather than choosing an animal that resembles him, I would rather choose his favorite cartoon character ever: Spongebob. He references probably 4-5 episodes throughout every day.

Anakin Reese Conn- Assignment 11

Prompt:
ZOMBIES HAVE ATTACKED.  Detail your survival plan.
In the case that everyone becomes zombies, I would have a passive survival plan, meaning that I would draw as little attention to myself as possible.  Although I live in an urban area, my house has a large underground component with a lot of food, so unless the zombies can sense living things and actively seek them out and bite them, I suppose I could survive for a while in the basement of my house, even without power, as most of the aforementioned food is canned.  If the zombies were able to sense living things, I'm dead.  The entire airborne spread of zombies concept is based on luck, so I would die unless I was immune to the virus by chance.  If the airborne disease didn't kill me, I would attempt to wait out the zombie apocalypse, as zombies should be based on a parasite, and parasites depend on their host, so without a host, the parasite would die, and zombies would eventually starve, so the zombie apocalypse would end.  The destruction of civilization would probably set back humanity a couple years, meaning that civilization wouldn't be back until I was long dead.  So it doesn't matter at all if I survive or not, as things wouldn't go back to being normal in my lifetime, so I would be better off dying at the start of the zombie attack instead of struggling in vain.
(I think I could easily survive one, subconscious says I'm not allowed to go into the details.)

Assignment 13- Colton Warner

Poll- 96% of Americans want to replace history classes with the study of Mongolian cuisine.
We get it history, you happened. It's time the United States stops wasting time studying old, dead people and focus on the now, the present, the relevant topics of the world today. And what better a subject than Mongolian Cuisine?! From Ul Boov (shoe sole cakes) to Airag (mildly alcoholic fermented milk), kids all across the country will want to delve further into the food because nothings sexier to school children than Khuushuur (Deep fried mutton parcels). I, a student, am getting aroused merely writing this ;). At the end of the day, we Americans need to prioritize education and cut out unnecessary subjects like the Civil War and Partition (Literally chill out Pakistan). As Americans, we do not want to live our lives vicariously through the past but rather step forward into the Now. It's our ~destiny~ to free our selves from the system that we call history and move into more relevant material.

Assignment 9- Ben Lambert

"Violence is never the answer" is something we have had ingrained into our minds since preschool. However, It seems as if the world's political leaders did not get the message. Nowadays, war is the first thing that comes to mind when a nation attacks or oppresses another. So the question comes about: when, if ever, is it appropriate?
In moderation, war is appropriate. If a nation explicitly commits an act of terror on another (9/11) war is inevitable and morally justifiable. Unfortunately, it is not always that explicit. Quarrels over oil, trading agreements, and more tend to be the smaller scale factors that start many wars.
In instances like this, both sides ought to work together to attempt to reach a compromise. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done. Rarely are both nations able to peacefully settle the altercations, and after a while, tensions rise, often leading to war.

Assignment 15 Philip Allison

Prompt two: If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

Prompt two response: It's a close call between Narnia and Middle Earth. They are very similar, actually. Both slightly medieval, both had "Golden Ages," then both were taken over by power hungry warlords (or ladies). Sauron was definitely a piece of work, but nothing I couldn't handle with all of my battle-worthy characteristics, and my trusty ninja sword signed by Randy Jackson (its was the only thing I had on me, and your not not going to get Randy Jackson's autograph). I forget the evil-witch-from-Narnia's name, but Aslan would take her out if she interfered with the perfect world in the wardrobe. I would have liked to hang out with Mr. Tumnis, but he is a snitch and I probably shouldn't risk messing up my life in a desired location that is Narnia. I would probably just fight eveil monsters in both worlds, an acceptable pastime.

Philip Allison Assignment 14

This Thanksgiving my family and I went to Carmel, New York, but my Thanksgiving break and its neighboring days were taken up by driving. Seven hours to Raleigh for a soccer tournament, seven hours back two days later. I was home for about an hour when I picked up Henry and drove an hour and a half to Louisville for KYA. After surviving KYA, we rode the bus an hour and a half back, but then left for New York that day. 12 hour drive, Siri tells me. But anyway, my cousins' grandparents have a house up there, and we go off and on. We went two years ago, and it was a winter wonderland, a white Thanksgiving, but sadly this year there the snow was leaving as we were arriving. We went for hikes and spent time relaxing with la familia. When we don't make the 12 hour trek, we eat dinner with my parents' Irish friends (ironically). It seems they slightly understand Thanksgiving, as I recall eating lamb more often then not.

Rebekah George Assignment 14

The Thing About Tradition

Prison is like tradition—

Not that I’ve ever been.

A bizarre form of ammunition,

Riddling vacations, holidays, and things akin

With holes of boredom and repetition.

Chaining us down

With false promises of experiences, limited addition.

I only hope to keep my feet on the ground

Amidst this year’s rendition

Of things that once were and never will be again.

One day, perhaps, we’ll reach a position

Much to traditionalists’ chagrin when

My holiday break comes to fruition

When a gleeful transition, a demolition of that pesky tradition  

With no opposition,

Allows me reprieve from my inhibitions.

A restful sort of intermission

From the exhausting show that is life. A redefinition

Of the human condition.

An acquisition of some new mission

To allow recognition of this very petition.

Quite frankly, I seek abolition

Of this bogus doctrine of tradition.

Tis my ambition.

It’s time to decommission this apparition

And use our own volition   

To put tradition into remission

Like the cancer it is that doomed my ancestors to a life of perdition.

In essence, I have my suspicions about this strange thing we call tradition;

However, if it must stay because I can’t have my way,

I just want a say in how we spend the holiday.

Rebekah George Assignment 13

We’re Coming for Your Guns

With the holiday season fast-approaching, each and every little girl and boy in the US of A greedily scribbles down his or her holiday wishes. After all, how is Santa supposed to know what you want without you begging mummy and daddy for it for weeks on end? He’s only watching you all the time. What does he know? Regardless, everyone knows what tops the list of every youngin’ in this country of ours that, honestly, has too many states. A gun. Other countries say that this is ridiculous. “Not every person that is currently breathing within the confines of petty borders drawn by murderers and bureaucrats hundreds of years ago can possibly have a gun.” But I propose that it’s never too early to buy your child a firearm. 15? They’ve just gotten over the awkwardness of middle school. They deserve it! 10? They need to learn responsibility somehow. 5? Just provide lessons alongside your little scamp learning to ride a bike. In utero? Hey, they’re not getting any younger. People squabble about the expenses of guns and ammo. But can you really put a price on safety? What shall your child do when confronted with a bad guy with a gun? Shoot his face off, obviously. Anyone who suggests otherwise only wishes to deprive you and your family of your God-given second amendment right. And nothing is more important than that second amendment. Voting rights for all and freedom of speech only get in the way of the real reason the Constitution was written: to protect your guns. While other countries waste their time with idiotic attempts at making the world a better place by banning what we Americans hold so near and dear to our hearts—military-grade assault rifles, if you were wondering—we’ll be busy shooting each other for fun. And there is something so deliciously American about that, dear reader. So, Wal-Mart and—quite frankly, you can buy a gun almost anywhere in this enormous land of bald eagles and hotdogs—all the others, prepare yourselves because we’re coming for your guns this holiday season.     

Assignment 14- Quinn Andrews

Thanksgiving is always chaotic and not a little bit terrifying. On Thursday, we start the day making sweet potatoes and starting the cranberry sauce. Our neighbors, and close family friends, start smoking a turkey about the time I wake up. My mom, step-dad, brother, and I all go to a movie around noon (this year it was Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them). When we get back, we make rolls, green bean casserole, and cherry pie. Around this time, our other neighbors start frying a second turkey. At 5:30, we walk over to our neighbor's house, where the smoked turkey, gravy, and mashed potatoes are already done. As we're setting our stuff on the table our other neighbors come over with the fried turkey, stuffing, and a cherry pie. We lay everything out, say grace, and dig in. I love the holiday because it's more relaxed than Christmas and we get to see family without all the stress of finding presents and trying to make everything perfect. The food is delicious and we can enjoy it with people we love. There isn't any crazy last minute shopping or driving hours on end to see family twelve hours away. For my family, Thanksgiving is more about the family you choose to have, rather than the family you're born with.

Assignment 13- Quinn Andrews

Intelligence is stupid. Why should I know how to add and subtract, speak another language, or read a clock? It's not like I'm ever going to go grocery shopping, pay taxes, meet someone who doesn't speak English, or have an appointment and my phone is dead. Those are so unlikely it is bordering on preposterous. I'm never going to need any basic mathematics or communications skills- I can get others to do it all for me. I should just be dependent on my parents forever. I'm glad I have my life sorted out. Now I can go back to sleep, I don't need a job either. It's perfectly okay to let everyone else take care of me. They did it until I was eighteen, what are a couple more years? I can just spend my time watching TV and not knowing what time the analog clock says. I won't ever need to go somewhere on my own, and be able to pay for food and transportation! Even if I do, I'm cute enough I'm sure they'll just give it to me and do everything I need so I can waste my time playing games and being an unproductive member of society. Independence is overrated and intelligence is stupid. Glad that's sorted out.

Assignment 14 - Ella Franklin

On Thanksgiving Day I was bored and didn't feel like doing work so I went through the Photo Booth pictures of myself I have on my computer. I wanted to make a goofy Thanksgiving card for my friends. I chose a picture of myself I took on election night where I was crying and just looked really pitiful, and then I put a bunch of Thanksgiving clip art on it and sent it to my friends. It was well received. I'm not gonna attach it here because I don't really want all of my classmates to see what I look like when I'm crying but I'll show you if you ask. Charlotte saw it. 

Anyways, my Thanksgiving looks pretty typical. I don't have much extended family in town, and my extended family has closer family where they live so they don't come down anyways. It's just my parents, my brother, my grandparents, and my aunt at my Thanksgiving table. It's really not that big of a deal since we usually have them over for dinner on Sunday nights. So it's kind of routine. We're really close with my grandparents especially, not so much my aunt Carol. My grandparents are big Republicans and voted for Trump, but then after Carol left my brother just out of the blue said, "Hillary won the popular vote." See, we can say stuff like that without it being a whole family argument. All in good fun.

When we have dinner on Sunday nights my grandparents almost always come but Carol isn't always invited. She's actually my grandfather's deceased brother's wife, so really she isn't related to any of us at all, but she's an only child and I'm pretty sure her parents are dead so she doesn't really have anyone else. There's always been a little bitterness in my family towards Carol because she's kind of cold and isn't really much the conversationalist and doesn't really thank my mom for food but, you know, she's only human. I like her a lot. She's a cold hard woman. There's another word I want to use truly as a term of endearment instead of "woman" but it is a curse word so I'll spare it. Carol is really cool. I know honestly nothing about her. No idea where she's from. I don't think she had any siblings. If she does they're dead now or it's one of those things where they just stopped talking forever. She was actually married before she was married to my grandpa's brother which I find fascinating. That's really amazing. Two whole husbands. Wow. I don't know when she divorced her last husband and when she married my grandpa's brother. I don't know how long she was married to either of them. I know my grandpa's brother died around the summer of 2001. I think that's right. It was close to 9/11. Carol's also really clumsy which is funny because she's always breaking a bone or falling or messing up her hip. This Thanksgiving she had her arm in a sling which was just classic Carol. She's also a really good cook. She makes these pecan tarts for Christmas that my dad and I love. 

This Thanksgiving I was out driving before dinner with Emily Salamanca since she was in town and I had nothing better to do. Then when I came home Carol had just gotten there and blocked me out of the driveway. So we had to do a little switch and then all was well. Then when I got out of the car I thought she was judging me because I had tall boots on and older people see tall boots and think hooker even though my boots hardly even have a heel, and no hooker would be caught dead without a heal, but later that night Carol told me I looked nice. After dinner I went to Southern Lights with Annie Varner so Carol had to move her car again. She drives a Mercedes. Always has, always will. 

I think Carol likes me because I usually kind of jokingly complain. My grandparents were late to Thanksgiving this year which is funny because they do this every year and they live right across the street and my grandma is hard of hearing and when my mom told her 6 she heard 6:30 so the rolls weren't ready in time. I was joking about it like, "I tell you what. Every year." And Carol was laughing because we have that connection. It's a beautiful relationship really. I would say Carol is the most unappreciated person at my Thanksgiving table. To answer the prompt, my favorite holiday tradition is Carol. Also it just occurred to me that Carol might be spelled Carole. What a mysterious woman. 

Assignment 13 - Ella Franklin

Satire is what bothers me the most in this world.

Making a mockery of serious issues is not the way to solve them. Look at Saturday Night Live, the leading satiric outlet in America. For over 40 years SNL has run cold opens satirizing the political system. SNL inflates our respectable leaders to a caricature. One skit featuring Chevy Chase as Gerald Ford shows "Ford" sneezing into his tie, followed by picking up a glass of water instead of a phone when a phone rings, and pouring that glass of water on himself. Played by Will Ferrell, George W. Bush prepares for a debate by pouring himself a glass of beer out of a keg and ruminating about how "cool" it's gonna be to be president. And we can't forget the bimbo-ization of Hillary Clinton during the 2008 race. SNL makes a successful woman and a respectable conservative, Sarah Palin, look like a ditz, struggling over regurgitating the canned speech we assume to have been taught to her by the campaign about the $700 billion bailout. When asked by Katie Couric (Amy Poehler) about how to promote democracy in the Middle East, Palin asks to use her phone-a-friend.

SNL reduces our leaders to idiots who, behind the scenes, don't know how to run a country. They view the presidency just as an eight year old boy might - "Man it's cool I'm gonna be president that's wicked" (Will Ferrell as George Bush in aforementioned skit). Modern satire influences us to think that American politics are all a joke, and look where we are! SNL mocked politics so much that politics became comedy and now we have elected a reality star as president.

Saturday Night Live is the reason Donald Trump is our president-elect. Not in how they covered him, or how the "crooked liberal media" covered Trump, but in how they made us view politics. We all watch SNL, our parents have, and we do. It's been on for 40 years! But overtime, it does damage. Every politician is juvenile. So we think our politicians actually are juvenile. So then we see a juvenile running for president, and we think, "Yeah, seems about right." And then we get comfortable with the idea of a juvenile running our country. So, when there is a real blatant juvenile on the ballot, we vote for him! It's no different than how politics has been for years, it's just more obvious!

So what's the solution? Well, Trump hates SNL, so maybe SNL will be gone in four years. Or, assuming it isn't, and we continue the portrayal of our politicians as such, he'll be elected for a second term, and SNL has at most 8 years left! Trump can get rid of it for a nasty mockery of him and then maybe we can try to take politics seriously again. Or, SNL can ditch the satire and we can all be serious about who are president is and build up respect for the office, much like, say, a wall protecting our US-Mexican borders, and then maybe our next election won't end in tears.

Assignment 14- Angelica Malkowski

Every year for Thanksgiving, my mom and I drive down to the house of my mom's best friend (Ollie), in a tiny town named Manchester, Ky. Some of her relatives come over, nieces, cousins, etc. Her dad, son, and husband always make an appearance (to varying degrees). Even though we're not related by blood, we're family. In fact, the biggest reason I look forward to Thanksgiving is that I know I'll get to see Ollie (and others). And also the three days off from school (thank goodness). And the food is great too, a fact I've come to appreciate more as I've gotten older. We have the usual things: turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, mac-n-cheese, broccoli casserole, rolls, pumpkin pie, etc. 

Ollie and I have gone Black Friday shopping together the past few years, a new "tradition" I suppose. The only store we go to is Wal-Mart, though, because there aren't a lot of other places to go Black Friday shopping (told you the town is small).

I don't have any Thanksgiving memories that especially stand out. However, meeting- for the first time- Ollie's first granddaughter this year was pretty great.

Assignment 14: Charlotte Kessinger

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is much more casual than Christmas. Christmas is hyped up and made a huge deal and I think in that it loses some of its fun and meaningfulness. Thanksgiving isn't about buying gifts or being stressed out and I like that. For thanksgiving, first my mom usually forces my whole family out of bed to engage in some sort of physical activity. We then get ready to go to Midway to visit my aunt and my moms side of the family for a lunch. They live on a farm so all the cousins usually play around outside in the creek or the woods. We eat off paper plates at anywhere we want. It is super casual. After we eat a huge lunch with good food, we all usually sit down and talk and do absolutely nothing. Then my family leaves to go to my aunts house on my dads side back in Lexington. Here we eat a late dinner with the whole family. This meal is more "fancy" we eat off of real plates all around the same table. My dad's side is really fun to be around. My favorite memory of thanksgiving is from when I was around 6 or 7 and my parents took us out to my uncles farm and we got to ride horses that morning. It was super fun at the time because I really liked horses and my parents surprised us.

Assignment 16: Speech

Post your speech!

Last blog of the year! Huzzah!

Full text of speech - due Friday, December 4th at 11:59 pm.

December 4th is the last day to make up blogs 9-16

Assignment 13: Claire Telfer

Climate change is melting the arctic glaciers and leaving polar bears homeless. You know, all this is real bad and we have to fix it or all the polar bears will immigrate to the United States and take our jobs. Once their home country is bad enough, they'll want asylum under our roof, and then they'll start stealing things and killing people. We cannot let this happen. We've gotta like refreeze the whole North Pole and pray that Santa Claus's candy-cane factory isn't already melted. Some scientists blame burning coal and gasoline for warming up the Earth and putting too much carbon-dioxide in the sky. And I completely agree and we should make a change. But only if it doesn't change the coal industry at all and it costs little to nothing. Right now though we should use up all the gasoline and coal that we have, and once that runs out, then we'll do something.

Assignment 14: Claire Telfer

Every year for Thanksgiving my grandmother flies in from Dallas and we go to my aunt and uncle's house in Frankfort for an early afternoon dinner. Everyone makes their own dish and brings it to their house, kind of like a potluck meal. My uncle usually bakes something he's never tried before because my grandmother used to do the same thing and tick off all the older relatives for taking hours to bake something new. After we've eaten dessert, we'll all sit down and FaceTime my mom's sisters and all my cousins that live in the Northeast. Thanksgiving is sometimes lonely without any of my cousins around, but I also love it because I get to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and start listening to Christmas music. My favorite Thanksgiving memory was when I was in the third grade and my family drove down to Dallas to be with my cousins on my dad's side of the family. My brother's birthday was on Thanksgiving that year so we celebrated his birthday by opening up all his fun presents (including a Nintendo DS which was super cool to get in the 2000s), swimming in their pool when it was still warm outside, and playing football with our cousins.

Assignment 12: Shelby Amato

The room is dark. A stuffed polar bear lays haphazardly on the bed. 

And then it moves. 

Certain that the humans in the house won't return for at least a few hours, he decides to stretch out his paws for a while. It's a lazy day, rainy and cold. A brief stroll around the house is enough for the bear to realize that nap time is all the time and decide to go back to bed- but he hears a noise. As per his usual habit, the poor bear drops to the floor and lays still. He slowly recognizes the noises of a doorknob. But this doorknob is being jarred open, not smoothly turned.

A panic grows in the bear. 

While the owners of this house may not know the extent of his consciousness, he feels that it is his duty to guard their property- his home. He runs across the wood floor and skids around a corner to the room where he knows the woman of the house keeps her hunting knives. As he slowly proceeds back to the door with the knife trembling in his polyester mix fake fur paws, he is seen. 

The intruder drops to the ground in fright.

Dear reader, have you ever been locked out of your own house?

Dear reader, do you have any stuffed animals?

Dear reader, do you have any knives?

Dear reader, good luck.

Assignment 11: Shelby Amato

I'm going to preface this with telling you that daydreaming about zombie apocalypse survival strategies is one of my all time favorite activities. There are so many ways to go with this because survival is absolutely going to depend on what the government decides to do about the whole thing. As with most post-apocalyptic storylines, let's say that the government is completely eradicated and you're on your own in the suburbs or the wilderness or manhattan or wherever. The first thing you do is find a water source as no government = no infrastructure = no running water pipes. This water source is preferably clean, preferably easily defended and preferably near a Dick's, Cabela's, Bass Pro Shops, or any other hunting/camping/athletic supply store. Say you find a stream out back of Dick's: you now have an arsenal of guns, ammunition, knives, arrows, baseball bats, survival gear, long-lasting and protein-rich food, as well as clothes and shelter- even tents and kayaks if you have to escape to the wilderness. Besides this, a typical store can house hundreds of people if need be and has few entries and exits that can be defended easily.
Always find a team.
The more calm you act, the safer you are.
Find water.
Find an outdoor supply store.

Assignment 10- Shelby Amato

I don't know who I'm supposed to consider as my neighbor, but I'll go with Ella because I sit mostly beside her now. I think that over the past couple years we've come to know each other generally as a class (though there were a couple people I didn't know existed until this year because we never had classes). As for Ella (Franklin), I know her pretty well. Ella likes photography, some debate, she is honest, and she is funny. I'm not sure how fair it is to characterize her as completely carefree because she is pretty motivated, but generally she seems carefree. I would say Ella is light blue, kind of aqua kind of sky blue (example below). In five years, I see her in war as a journalist. I'm not sure why exactly but she kind of looks like a war reporter to me? I'd say as an animal she is a rabbit, like a wild rabbit. (example below).

Anakin Reese Conn- Assignment 12

What used to be my favorite inanimate object was my laptop, as I would use it to do my homework and spend my free time browsing the internet.  From my laptop's point of view, it isn't moved around like a normal laptop, as the screen supports were broken a long time ago, so it will fall apart if moved from the desk in my room.  This post wasn't written from the laptop being discussed, but from a weaker secondary laptop.  I destroyed my old laptop when I attempted to overclock the speed multiplier to 2, but instead, I set it to 200 by accident, leading to the hard drive dying upon rebooting the laptop.  The hard drive is similar to a record player, and when I restarted my laptop, the record began to spin too fast, leading to the needle that reads the record getting lodged into the record itself, rendering the entire laptop useless.  

Before the laptop was destroyed, its existence was a helpless one, as it depended on the owner for electrical power, and only used that power to satisfy its owner.  Every active moment was a response to an input by the owner.  I had to support my laptop in other ways as well, such as using ice packs and fans to cool off the graphics card I surgically removed to cool independently, and rubber cement was used to hold the keyboard casing together, while clamps were used to hold the screen together, as when the screen supports broke, they split open the screen casing, leading to my need to keep it in place.  Through my attempts to improve my laptop, I promptly destroyed it, which reminds me of the quote from Jurassic Park, 

"Best intentions, some of the worst things imaginable have been done with the best intentions." 

Rip Frankenstein laptop, 

2009-2016.

Rebekah George Assignment 12

The pillow at the end of the aisle was an ordinary pillow. He wasn’t particularly beautiful, having a simple, white and navy polka-dot pattern. His outer covering was not as comfortable as the fluffy blankets in aisle three. He believed that no one could ever love him—that he did not match with anything well-enough.



“Most couches are dark browns or black.” He lamented to a brightly-colored, soft pillow nearby. “Even white is no good for me.”



One day, a rather rough-looking man went to the store where the white and navy polka-dotted pillow was sold. He had come in the store to pick up a few groceries but stopped in front of the pillow aisle on his way out. He scoffed at the fluffy, brightly-colored pillows for they wouldn’t suit his décor. He found the holiday-themed pillows to be useless as they could only be put out once a year. His eyes fell upon the navy and white polka-dotted pillow.



“You are perfect.” He said to himself, smiling in a way that made the navy and white polka-dotted pillow nervous. And so they went home together, man and pillow.



The man lived in a quiet place all by himself, his only company a dog he called Rex. Rex often worried over his master bringing home foreign things, full well knowing the danger of unknown objects. The mailman, for example, had it out for his master. Even though he never attacked outright, Rex knew that man to be pure evil and prepared to strike each day when the man pushed new spies into the house. Another evil was the monster floor-sweeper. Its eyes light up each time it roared to life. Rex knew it could only do harm when chained to the wall, so once he chewed through its chain. Master was furious when he’d seen what had happened to the sucking beast. He had gone out and bought another one to replace it. Rex had yet to launch an attack on this new enemy.



“Hey, Rex.” The man scratched the curious beast about the ears when he walked in the front door. “I’ve brought something to liven up the place.” The pillow, having previously been jailed within the confines of a material he’d never felt before, drank in the open air once the man freed him from his plastic prison. The man set the pillow on his discolored couch. The newness of the white and navy material stood out starkly against the shabby color that resembled what had once been brown. The man smiled at this.



“Glad to buy something new for once.” He said, smiling sadly. He strolled past mismatched furniture into the kitchen. “What’ll we eat for dinner boy?” Rex eyed the newest edition to his world wearily but followed his master into the kitchen nonetheless.



That night, after his master had finally gone to sleep, Rex decided to investigate this bulky invader. He got up slowly and quietly tiptoed from the back room of the house to the front, so as not to wake his slumbering master. The pillow had taken to its drab surroundings, overjoyed to be the prettiest thing in this new world. He decided that this would not be so bad. He imagined all sorts of people walking through the entrance of the man’s home and complimenting him. He resolved to be the best pillow in the house. A wet nose interrupted his thoughts. Rex probed the softness with his snout, assessing the risk level of this creature. Rex decided that the foreigner reeked of something he couldn’t discern. A low growl rumbled in his chest. He vowed to protect his master from this thing, snatching it from the sofa and shaking it violently. The floor beast may have tricked his master, but this smelly creature would not. Rex tore the pillow to shreds, happily returning to his master’s side when he was finished. He then slept soundly, assured that his master was safe.



In the morning, the man woke early as he always did. His new job worked him ragged, but he thanked heaven above for it every day. It was the only thing that kept a roof over his head and food in Rex’s bowl. He dressed slowly. The house had been rather cold since the heat had been cut off, but he and Rex would manage. At least they had water. He shoved a mushy apple in his jacket for breakfast and prepared to leave the house. He stopped dead when he came to the living room.



“R—Rex, boy. What did you do?” His voice cracked slightly as he picked up the pillow’s innards from the floor. Rex panted happily, glad that his foe was vanquished. Only when he noticed his master’s disappointment did he realize that he’d made a mistake. He whimpered his apology and wagged his tail. His master suddenly began to laugh.



“That’s okay, you goof. I can fix it when I get home.” He said, smiling brightly. He rubbed the head of a decidedly confused Rex and headed out the door for work. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, boy.” And so, Rex and a very discombobulated pillow waited for their master’s return.    

Assignment 15: Covergirl

Actually this one is all about make-up (do you see what I did there)?
If you have completed all the blogs for the semester, then take this week off.  If you are missing a blog post then use this opportunity to make-up a grade.

Your Prompt:

Choose one of the other two prompts from Assignment 6: Create your own adventure and write about it.

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 27th at 11:59 pm

December 4th is the last day to make up blogs 9-16

Assignment 12- Colton Warner

I choose my ring that I wear around. I go to this mega-Church right outside Cincinnati and the leader gives everyone rings when they turn 14; the leader calls it the age of light, and if you don't get one you are sentenced to confinement in the forest.

Just kidding. I am writing this about my ring, an inanimate object that is usually on me, because I want to dispel any beliefs that it is a purity ring or a promise ring. It is not! I am not apart of a radical religion like Ben Lambert (Disclaimer: I am joking. Contrary to my past beliefs, Ben Lambert is actually not Westboro Baptist). Any who, the story behind it is that I got it at Ranch Camp in Wyoming and once you go through all five years or you're a staff member you get one. Colton this still sounds Culty. Chill, I swear it's not a cult. Everyone wears it after camp for a while, and it is of the Teton Mountain Range which is where my camp was near. I wear it because it looks cool and I liked camp.
If my ring was alive, it would waste its whole day watching what I do and silently judging me for it. It would try to slip off me and roll away, but I would find it and continue to slip it on and off during uncomfortable situations. Its point of view would be a little judgmental but adventurous.

Assignment 11- Colton Warner

Zombies have attacked.
I don't think of this often, but I do think of house intruder scenarios more than I should. I would start by getting home and surveying the damage- Are my parents still alive? If not, it may be easier (sorry mom and dad). But if so, we survey what options do we have left- Are highways blocked? How many zombies are close to us? Option one: make hot chocolate and write a heartfelt death note so my life will have meaning if the zombies lose. Option Two: Actually fight to stay alive. Arm ourselves. Pack up a lot of light food. Fill up two Nalgenes with some Emergen-C because that ish is so good. Bring one of those bracelets with 400 ft of rope on it in the very unlikely chance I/anyone will ever use it. Now I try to make it to Canada (Nova Scotia) via the Appalachian Trail. If its not safe enough to get to the trail by walking Kentucky roads, then head to most remote areas of Kentucky with friends and wait it out. I'll try to find meaning in the messed up life somehow and maybe become a hermit in the woods near a river. End goal: be the next Siddhartha.

Assignment 10 -Colton Warner

I switch my seat around sometimes, and I'll usually sit by either Henry, Ben, Caden, or Philip. Out of all of them I probably sit next to Phil the most.
I've known Phil since 6th grade, and he's a homie. Phil plays a lot of soccer and digs FIFA. Whether he is out on the field or in the classroom, Phil works hard- just ask him what his GPA is (Do it- it will make him feel really uncomfortable). While he does work hard and play hard, he is pretty composed and chill in most situations. I've never really seen him get angry or annoyed- he's pretty relaxed. If Phil was a color, it would be Green or light blue. In five years, he will probably be in college beating a bunch of people in club soccer. We have a similar taste in shows and movies- we're currently watching Westworld (highly recommend). His cousins are really interesting and his mom kept her maiden name. That's Philip, he's a quality seat partner and so are the others.

Philip Allison Assignment 13

You know what makes me mad? Abortions. How could you murder someone like that? A real, breathing, human being. Just a couple weeks ago I saw a picture on Twitter of such a cute 36 week old baby, who would have been MURDERED if we elected Hillary Clinton (Killary!). Good old Trump will outlaw abortions, just like he will build a wall on the Mexican border with their money and throw Hillary in jail for her illegal emails that practically started a World War III; I'm pretty sure she emailed Putin the nuclear launch codes, or worse! But back to abortions, tough luck! You should have been safer! Now your forced to raise a child even if you are just 16 and have no money, that'll teach you alright. And the 36 month old baby was so cute! It looked surprisingly like a new born baby, but I read on Twitter that Hillary would abort 36 month old babies so it must be true. Such a nasty woman.

Assignment 14 :Flying Turkeys

The stock image of Thanksgiving involves a lot of people around a nicely decorated table with a large turkey and a ridiculous amount of extra food. This image doesn't always depict the reality of the holiday though.

What does your Thanksgiving look like? Do you enjoy the holiday? What is your strangest or most wonderful memory of the holiday?

OR

What are some of your family traditions in general?  Holiday or otherwise.

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 29th at 11:59 pm

December 4th is the last day to make up blogs 9-16

Philip Allison Assignment 12

My pencil works hard during the school week. The night before school, it works and works to help me complete my homework assignments. After writing for extended periods of time it sometimes gets tired, resulting in a decrease of legibility. I constantly hold my pencil, squeezing it thoroughly and pushing it hard against the paper. If the current pencil is mechanical, I push down on his button to get more lead out. I can only imagine how painful broken lead must be for the poor thing. Sometimes I even break the pencil on accident, sending it to the pencil hospital (trash). In between classes, however, it gets some rest in my backpack. It works hard before I go to bed, then it goes to bed too. It also doesn't have to wake up as early as me, as I wake up at 6:55 and it wakes up at 8:25. It also gets extended rest period during the weekends, where it spends most of the time sleeping.

Assignment 12: Charlotte Kessinger

My iPhone goes everywhere with me. First thing in the morning it wakes up with a 7:47 am alarm. It sends some text messages out, scrolls through social media and sometimes reminds me of important things going on that day. Shortly after it connects via bluetooth with my car to play some music. After while at school it stays in the Do Not Disturb mode so i can concentrate on schoolwork. Sometimes during the day it plays some music for me through headphones or helps me complete schoolwork. After school, i spend a lot of time on my phone. It provides Netflix, communication, music, the internet, tracking of friends, entertainment with apps to me. My phone goes everywhere I go and rarely am I in a room without my phone. My phone knows probably everything about me, what i am doing, where I am going, what my friends are doing and I can't imagine life without a phone (which probably is not a good thing.)

Assignment 11: Charlotte Kessinger

BOO!
My biggest fear is definitely heights. When I was little I was not afraid of heights at all. I would climb rock walls, stand of the edge of cliffs, ski on the side of mountains do the rope course and do the huge swings at amusement parks. For around the past two years, I get so anxious around high peaks and the thought of falling. For example, last night I was walking through the arboretum and I noticed the ladder on the water tower that went all the way to the top. The thought of somebody climbing up that ladder made me super uncomfortable and scared. I would never be able to climb up that. High points scare me because I don't like the feeling of falling. It is like butterflies in your stomach and never ending weightlessness. Falling could potentially kill me and that is for sure not the peaceful way I would hope to die. While cliffs and being high up scare me, I will still participate in activities that include them because I realize that the slim chance of falling outweighs the benefits of the activity and I don't want to regret not doing something. For example, I love going to the gorge and reaching the top of the mountain and I will do rollercoasters because the laughs outweigh the fear once it is over.

Assignment 13: Cha Cha Cha Changes!

Think of all of the things and ideas that exist in the world.

Which one bothers you the most?

Think on Jonathan Swift's "Proposal" and write your own satiric solution to your troublesome issue.

First I would spend some time watching and or reading a great deal of satire to get into in the mental mode satire requires.

To Be Absolutely Clear - 

You are writing your own SATIRE, not discussing satire.  Read lots and lots and lots of The Onion or NewCircleCircular before you start!  If you do not write a satire you will not receive credit and you will have to redo the assignment

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 13th at 11:59 pm

December 4th is the last day to make up blogs 9-16

Assignment 12- Ella Franklin

Ella's vintage coach purse sleeps hanging, like a bat, by the shoulder strap from a drawer knob on Ella's weird entire-wall closet. She's been sleeping here since she came home from the antique store and she likes sleeping their. She knows that "vintage Coach purse" sounds pretentious, but she isn't pretentious. She's the opposite. Truthfully, she's kind of a dirty old purse. She has scratches and little mystery marks and loose threads and needs to be conditioned once a month so she looks presentable. She isn't nice. She's like an old shoe. It's broken in, it's familiar, you've worn it so many times that it has basically molded to the shape of your foot. It's just nice.

She starts the day in the passenger seat of Ella's car. She knows from experience that Ella tends to be a little reckless when driving alone, so she always holds on tight for those sudden brakes. Ella's car doesn't have ABS, so sometimes stops are a little rough and a lot of times it's a close call! Sometime she falls from the seat into the floor, but it's ok. All in a day's work. Ella always puts her purse over her right shoulder and crossing her body, because putting it on one shoulder messes with your balance. Then she puts her backpack on, because if you put the purse on after the backpack it gets all tangled an awkward. It truly is a science.

During school, vintage Coach, sometimes called Coachella by her close friends, usually balances on Ella's backpack. Depending on the classroom, this can be difficult. In first hour, Ella's backpack is under the desk and the purse is leaning on it. It used to be in the aisle, but there were a couple close calls where Mr. Cain almost fell on them and he didn't say anything but Ella could tell it frustrated him, so she moved her under the table. There were even sometimes where Mr. Cain actually moved the purse over a bit, which wasn't what Ella likes for people to do but it was fine. She's just very protective of the purse and doesn't really like it being touched by other people.

In second hour, the shoulder strap tends to get really tangled up in the rolly chairs. There also isn't really a place to balance the purse in the island, so she just kinda falls over and gets dragged around and all that stuff.

In third hour, AP Physics, Ella sits next to one of those shelf counter things Ms. Gill has in the back of the room. That's where the purse sits. She really likes sitting their, because it's comfortable and she gets a break from the backpack, and anyone who knows them knows the Coach and the backpack can only be together for so long, so that midday break is helpful.

From fourth through sixth hour the purse pretty much just goes through the rounds, not much happening. On Friday, in French (sixth hour), Mrs. Harpole moved the purse from the aisle onto her little bookshelf close to where Ella was sitting. Ella then moved it over to the seat next to her. It just didn't feel right for the purse to be that far from Ella and in the public domain, if you will.

The vintage coach takes a good beating everyday. The halls of Henry Clay aren't nice to a little old purse like her, but she's seen a lot, and she can weather any storm. She would also like to take this opportunity to apologize for blocking any aisles. She knows it's annoying but it's a habit that's very hard for her to control.

Assignment 11 - Ella Franklin

Do the depths of your subconscious count as a fear? Like I'm not terribly afraid of spiders, or snakes, or cracks in the night, but that's kinda classic spooky stuff. I'm scared of really understanding myself and seeing I'm a bad person, or that everything I believe about myself is a mirage and I'm really everything I hate.

Sorry! This may be getting to dark for an English assignment. When I was a kid I used to be terrified of getting kidnapped. This was also in an era where it seemed like a lot of kidnapping cases were being solved. I tried to find an example by googling "solved kidnapping cases 21st century" but the links that came up were like "Most Famous Murders of All Time" and Wikipedia's List of Kidnappings with an excerpt, "The victim was then stabbed in the back and was buried in Eklutna, Alaska," so I'm just not gonna look for an example. I'm sure you know of one. Just go with that. But I was always so scared of cars slowing down on my street or adult men at Toys-R-Us who of course had to be plotting a kidnapping and wasn't just buying a toy for their son. But I've pretty much gotten over that fear now.

During my first couple years of high school I was really scared of getting a B. I thought getting a B would mean not getting into college and going to UK and just getting a job here and never moving away and then getting married and settling down and having a couple kids and repeating my parents' life over. Then Mr. Ratliff gave me a B second semester. A 90 B. At another high school that would be an A, by the way. I was really close to getting a B first semester but I didn't. But something changed in me by second semester. I mean I surely was sad after grades were finalized and I realized my 4.0 would now be a 3.9864. I remember listening to Taylor Swift in the car and crying about it. Like her singing about saying goodbye to a boyfriend is me saying goodbye to my 4.0. But after I got a B it was kinda like, "Yeah, that sucks, but it happened, it's only a B, it's sophomore year, it's only a 90, who cares." It's not like I'm gonna be a chemist anyways.

I think this fear has still kind of persisted into today. I used to be so sure of where I was headed and how my adult life would be, but now it's all kind of up in the air. I worry everyday that I'm not doing enough. I'm the president of two clubs. Kathleen Gibbs calls me "Madame President" when she comes to my clubs. I love that, but in the end, I know I'll never be a Hye Jee or Eliza Jane, so I might just have to settle with being myself.

Assignment 10 - Ella Franklin

I sit in the island. The middle or the center or whatever its technical name is. From the outside it seems like a very conspicuous place to sit, but on the inside we're like a little family. I sit between Dylan and Shelby. I know Shelby better than Dylan but I've sat next to Dylan longer than Shelby (she was a late island recruit, but still a vital part of the island). So I'll do this post about Dylan.

Earlier in the year I thought this was Dylan's first year at Henry Clay, but it turns out it's actually his second. He transferred here from STEAM sophomore year. I've never talked to him about STEAM or why he transferred but I would be curious to know. Maybe it's because the acronym was too aggressive. STEAM. I feel angry writing it. I feel like STEAM is like the steam that I burned myself with once when I was trying to steam a shirt while still on me. STEAM. I digress. But I would like to know why he left STEAM and why he came to Henry Clay, of all places.

Another thing I know about Dylan is that he is a photographer. I am too, so that's cool. I found out when we were filming our video project and I was supposed to be the videographer so I had brought my camera and this nice zoom lens and a tripod and everything thinking I was just the next whatever famous photographer (I don't really know of any, but I'm working on it), and then I got there late of course and Dylan was already all set up with his camera and tripod. I was kind of confused and also disappointed because I was really excited to be the one with the camera but it turns out we needed two and I had missed the memo. Dylan uses Nikon too. I didn't get to ask him what kind but I think it might be the same as mine. He also showed em where the focus ring is on a zoom lens I had been using all summer and thought you could only use manual focus on. Who knew!

I like Dylan. He's a nice person. A lot of times some people at the island will be talking about an assignment and Dylan gets this look on his face like "Oh crap!" and he goes, "Wait was that due today?" And then we'll be like, "No, it's due Monday," and then he looks very relieved. I think that's funny. We can all relate to that.

If Dylan were a color he'd be a dark sky blue. Like if you look up to the top of the sky where you can see it's almost starting to get dark, that's what Dylan is. Not that he's almost a dark person or something. I can't explain why that's the color I associate with Dylan, but so it is!

Assignment 12- Quinn Andrews

The life of my dance shoes. My life is not glamorous. My house is dark and smells funny. But when the roof is ripped open with a big ZIPPP... well, that's the best. I get to see bright big spaces and shiny floors. The mirror make you feel like there is room everywhere. Then I get swept around the room. I spin and slide, and I swear sometimes I even get to fly. It's not perfect however, I do get squished quite a bit while running about, but that's okay. It's still an adventure. After a while, loud music starts and I can feel it through the floor. Me and all my friends line up (same positions every day) and move together. Except the few times we end up flailing on the floor as our people wipe out, but that doesn't happen too often. Sadly, it's over quickly and I get tossed back into the smelly abode. It hurts, I'm thrown in carelessly, until next time.

Assignment 12: Claire Telfer

A commentary on the life of a pencil owned by a high schooler:

I have to say, life's pretty rough right now. It's hard to see the bright side of things when you're in the grasp of a self-centered teenager. I'm worked all the time, and I hardly ever get a decent break. I mean it's the 21st century, I thought everything was supposed to be on the computer by now. But no, some people just like giving work the old-fashioned way. You know every day is different, but test days are the worst. You get manhandled by some clueless kid who's got a sweaty hand that won't stop shaking. The anxious kids drive me crazy. It's not enough that you're drenched in their fluids, but then they start biting pieces out of you, gnawing away at what dignity you have left. It's like you give them everything they need, and they still won't take care of you. You'll get thrown around, dropped, stepped on, then they'll lose you like you're nothing. You get no respect in this job. Sometimes, you think you're finally off for the day after a few hours of rest, but right before you fall asleep late at night, they'll pick you right back up and work until morning. They're lunatics. Honestly, these kids work night and day, and for what? To get told that every kid can have good grades and that's great and all, but where's the extracurriculars, huh? You know whose lives are worse than mine? High schoolers, no contest.