Franson's Posts

Which is what frightens me about the liberals trying to rewrite the Bill of Rights.

By my call to change your writing style, I merely called for you to change your non-supported, meaningless style to one with more class and flair. Need I clarify any more?

Now then, on to the article I was meaning to write. The government, as it is now, has some very large problems with it now. It does too much meddling in people's private affairs (for example, the NSA (yes, I know you're reading this)). It restricts people too much in their pursuits of everyday life (through throngs of meaningless laws, which we all know exist). And above all, it steals our money (or at least will in a few short years)! But what needs to be done? Do a few minor changes need to be enacted, or does the entire Constitution require a new drafting? Talk of the Articles of Confederation in A.P. U.S. History got me thinking about this, and I believe that the government could be overhauled well by requiring that only people of obviously high intelligence could run for office (in more ways than just IQ, if that's what comes to mind). This way, feebs with money could not run rampantly powerful as we see is the case today. But now, to pass the ball: What do you all think about this important issue? Let's hear!

New Freeform to Accompany New Poet

Well, now I've got two poets in the section: myself and someone who would like to remain anonymous. I personally think she's very good, but hey. This is "Oxygen".

A setting sun,
A sparkling horizon-
I run to it,
Needing to escape.
City walls trap and suffocate-
They aim to kill,
Aim to defeat,
Aim to make me bleed.
A winged creature roams the sky-
Pale blue,
Clear,
Inviting.
�Join me in my liberty!�
And what of that winter day that calls upon you?
Falling snow,
Sparkling fields-
I reach for it,
Needing a home.
Life�s edges are harsh,
Rough.
Who is untouched?
Unscathed?
Unpenetrated?
Why conduct a symphony when I only want to dance?
A row of painted skeletons takes over the land,
Consuming,
Engulfing.
Eyes, ears, and hearts are drowned.
I sink beneath the surface
And I can find no air.
~Anonymous

Well, this is pretty much a rant directed at an audience of Jeff, Jesse and I, but I'll try to make it as user-friendly as possible. In English class, all the books we've read have been terrible, but especially the "book" The House on Mango Street. This book was so utterly awful that I could barely put up with it. Reading it made me realize the positive sides of dying due to sudden and massive trauma to the face. But why? Why did we read this book? As I understand it, we were supposed to read it due to its "poetic" style. However, as far as I could tell, it was nothing more than poorly arranged phrases stacked into a page to create some semblance of weak imagery. But was there some deeper meaning to subjecting us to the torture of reading such a pretentious work? I'll leave that for Jeff to decide (thus, yes there was).

To certain new members of the aNaRcHiSt TiMeS: I believe that your methods of writing need an overhaul, as do one or more of my superiors (who will under no circumstances tolerate feebery), who can change your status as a writer. Just interject more actual facts, as opposed to spineless, half-developed opinions. Back up what you say. Enough said? Good, I thought so.

This is beginning to really get on my nerves. Do people really need to swear all the time?! I mean really, all I hear all day, every day at school is swearing. *BEEP* this. *BEEP* that. If you walk out into the mall and stay there for any extended period of time, you'll hear more swearing than in any movie ever made, almost guaranteed. In this day and age, people need swearing to communicate, and it bothers me a lot. Who do I blame? Feebs. Am I wrong? NO.

Here We Go Again

LOVE HAIKU
Flowers open here
Budding blooming yellow there
Love year-round unfurls

And, on a side note, there once was a man from Nantucket. The stories are greatly exaggerated.

Well, Folks, Here's Some New Stuff

I'll see if I can't get some other people to contribute too... Someone showed me a freeform they had written, and it was incredible, so I'll see how that goes. But I digress:

SCHOOL HAIKU:
Why another day?
Why this awful awful waste
Of my precious time?

(That was written when I was delirious as HECK)

NORTH WOODS
Cold winter breezes,
Snowflakes falling in sunshine,
Aspens in the wind

(My first (and only) attempt at a real haiku thus far)

And that's about all. I'll post more tomorrow, if I think of something witty.

This is irritating to me (and perhaps only me), but just to bring it up: how many of you have ever read a book which was amazing, and then seen the movie based on the book, which was total crap? It bothers me that such great authors of our time as Stephen King and Jeffrey Deaver (who wrote Pet Sematary (along with 'Salem's Lot, The Tommyknockers and many others) and The Bone Collector, respectively) wrote great books, which then were turned into movies that sucked. In fact, almost all books that were changed to movies suck, and that angers me. Take, for another example, The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss. Book: AMAZING. Movie? CRAP. See my point? It's wrong, I tell's ya! Just wrong!

Warning to Those Who Are Feebs: This Will Make No Sense Whatsoever

Here's my crappy attempt at a beatnik poem. This was written in fifteen minutes total, folks. Check it out:

Foreign policy
Same boxing match every year
Ike in the blue side

Khruschev in the red
Yet never a punch is thrown
Not a punch is thrown

Radiation land
Bomb streaks over childrens' heads
No ones ever safe

"Cold War"; "Kill the reds!"
Thats all anyone can hear
Anyone can hear

Red immolation
Fire across land; nothing lives
No life anymore

Khruschev in the red
Ike in blue; American
Americana

But war can be stopped
Though its at our door; can stop
If we think for us

Skeletons strewn here
Over the land of red
Mushroom-shaped doom cloud

Khruschev dropped the bomb
He threw the powerful hook
The powerful hook

Ike would not be beat
He returned with a strong jab
Ike with the strong jab

Now where are we all?
Under bricks; over houses; dead
Strewn about like dolls

Now my haiku over
Haiku finished now; go home
Haiku haiku done

And that's about all. Perhaps more tomorrow.