Engulfed by the Earth, untouched. Dead.
Amongst the fog; the summit glows.
Claustrophobic, sealed away. Forgotten by all.
Waiting for something. Waiting, for Superman.
Orange glowing in the night; Campfire.
White coating all. Waiting for summer.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Thursday, September 18, 2014
John Proctor. Hero or Stooge?
John Proctor is a stooge. Proctor is a fine man, with the right intentions and a good heart. However, it is impossible to overcome such wrong, so for that reason he must be recognized as a stooge.
The Salem community clearly respects John and considers him a very important town member. While he has many followers and admirers, the town is ignorant of his many sins. In a place where everybody lives under the guidance of god and makes every decision based on religion. John rarely attends church, he breaks one of the ten commandments (and forgets it later) and he didn't baptize one of his sons. In their community, Proctor would never be considered a hero, yet he has many people who support him and his every action.
When the witch trials begin, John is coaxed into going into Salem and disobeying his wife's wishes. Then, he makes his way into a situation where he has no jurisdiction, and tops it all off by having a private conversation with the very girl he had an affair with. It is impossible to consider someone who does commits so many intolerable acts a hero.
Finally, while Proctor finally does the right thing and tells the truth, he ends up getting hanged and doesn't solve anything. He goes down with a sobbing wife, a mistress who is rich living without him, and provides absolutely no solution to the problem. A hero saves the day, John Proctor did not.
The Salem community clearly respects John and considers him a very important town member. While he has many followers and admirers, the town is ignorant of his many sins. In a place where everybody lives under the guidance of god and makes every decision based on religion. John rarely attends church, he breaks one of the ten commandments (and forgets it later) and he didn't baptize one of his sons. In their community, Proctor would never be considered a hero, yet he has many people who support him and his every action.
When the witch trials begin, John is coaxed into going into Salem and disobeying his wife's wishes. Then, he makes his way into a situation where he has no jurisdiction, and tops it all off by having a private conversation with the very girl he had an affair with. It is impossible to consider someone who does commits so many intolerable acts a hero.
Finally, while Proctor finally does the right thing and tells the truth, he ends up getting hanged and doesn't solve anything. He goes down with a sobbing wife, a mistress who is rich living without him, and provides absolutely no solution to the problem. A hero saves the day, John Proctor did not.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
There Goes the Neighborhood
We watched helplessly as the men plowed through our home. We tried to stop them, but we had to accept our fate. They didn't share the same respect we had for our surroundings. It pains us all to watch them tear up the earth that had given us so much. If only we could go back, just a short time ago, to when the men first came.
It was a normal day, and after a long day of gathering wild nuts and berries, we prepared to go back to the village. However, on our way back we heard a noise coming from the sea. We assumed the noise came from animals, but we were shocked when we saw other people. Luckily for us we were behind the trees, hoping to not startle the animals, but it worked to not let them see us either. We slowly retreated and as we walked back, I saw a massive boat, made from many trees, in the water. Knowing the great things these men are capable of, I had a feeling it would not go well for us.
After a little while we decided to put ourselves in an area where they could discover us, as to not startle them. Our first interactions were very peaceful. They were very interested in us, what we were wearing, and even our crops. We taught them how to grow corn, squash, and beans, and they in turn gave us certain metal tools and goods from their home. But suddenly, one day they came with all their men, and rounded us up. We were forced to work for them, harvest their crops, and build their homes. They weren't like us at all, they didn't care for the spirits in nature, they only took, and never gave.
More and more came, and more and more of us died. We had illnesses never before held by our people, we had starvation even with so much to quench our hunger around us. But the worst part was helping them tear apart the earth which has treated us so well for so many years. So we were forced to watch helplessly, as they tore apart our neighborhood.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
ME
Compassionate, committed, and easygoing. Just three random words, yet put together they are instantly paired with my vision of myself.
My name is Quincy Caleb Hirt, and I am fifteen years old. I am proud to describe myself as the three words above, and while I may have moments of lapse in thought, I try to exhibit these traits throughout my daily life. I love being around other people and I always try to avoid spending even the occasional evening alone. I have found that if I show others compassion, they enjoy being around me just as much as I enjoy them. I try to be a friendly face they can go to for help, tell their problems too, or even just to show them that someone cares.
This past summer I returned to my summer camp, Camp Nebagamon for Boys, for the seventh consecutive summer. I hold camp near and dear to my heart and I can't imagine a summer without it. Every year at camp we have a friendly day of competition called Paul Bunyan Day. Each year, four kids from the eldest grade are chosen to represent and lead their teams. These boys are called the Boss Loggers. The way they are chosen is through an all grade vote on the second night of camp. The reason I stay compassionate is because I know when people trust someone and like someone, they follow them. So when my peers voted for me as one of the four Boss Loggers, I knew that I was not only well liked enough and trusted enough to lead 60-70 kids on the of the most important days of the year, I knew that whatever I was doing was working.
I have taken part in many optional activities throughout my life. Whether it's extra curriculars, sports, or even personal endeavors, I always stay committed to what I started. I can proudly say that I rarely quit something that I made a commitment to. I am so self-determined that I don't even like stopping a math problem that I can't solve. Unfortunately, this ends up leaving me with no time to do the other twenty questions on the test, but that's beside the point. The point is that I like to finish what I have started. It gives closure, accomplishment, and that great feeling you get when you think back to what you were at the beginning and how much better you are now.
Luckily for me I am a generally happy person. In the fourth grade, our family friends and my family embarked on a two week trip to the African bush. We slept in huts, went on walking safaris at five in the morning, and ate entirely the local cuisine. While the trip provided an amazing experience, it also was one of the most incredibly fun trips I've ever been on. On day ten of our trip, we were in Botswana, twenty miles outside of the Kalahari Desert. The plan was to drive into the desert the next day and continue to our next "lodge" on foot. The majority of the group were kids, however there were three adults over the age of 40. The trip had been great, but tiring and demanding. It had taken a toll on our parents so they gave us a decision. We could either continue with our plan, or we could go to a nicer resort back in Zambia. While the rest of the group prepared to vote, I did what I do every time a vote is proposed; I think about what I want, and then I think about what the group wants. In this situation I knew I really wanted to continue on our original trip into the Kalahari. However, judging from the reaction to the proposal, I knew the group wanted something different. So, I didn't vote. Rather than attempt to convince others that I was happy with the decision I simply put on a smile and prepared for whatever was next. In this sense I am easygoing. I can adapt to situations I don't like to be in and I can make others enjoy the situations I do like. Even something as simple as choosing dinner is hard for me because I the end of the day I will manage no matter what we chose. Being easygoing ironically makes the going easier for me, and brightens up dark days.
I don't like to brag, and I won't lie. Those aren't the only three words that describe me, and while my mom may think it, I am not perfect. I am still working on many ways to improve myself, and many ways to get rid of the wrong that I do. I may have only lived fifteen years, but I know one thing. If I can still describe my self the same way in thirty years, I will be just a pleased.
My name is Quincy Caleb Hirt, and I am fifteen years old. I am proud to describe myself as the three words above, and while I may have moments of lapse in thought, I try to exhibit these traits throughout my daily life. I love being around other people and I always try to avoid spending even the occasional evening alone. I have found that if I show others compassion, they enjoy being around me just as much as I enjoy them. I try to be a friendly face they can go to for help, tell their problems too, or even just to show them that someone cares.
This past summer I returned to my summer camp, Camp Nebagamon for Boys, for the seventh consecutive summer. I hold camp near and dear to my heart and I can't imagine a summer without it. Every year at camp we have a friendly day of competition called Paul Bunyan Day. Each year, four kids from the eldest grade are chosen to represent and lead their teams. These boys are called the Boss Loggers. The way they are chosen is through an all grade vote on the second night of camp. The reason I stay compassionate is because I know when people trust someone and like someone, they follow them. So when my peers voted for me as one of the four Boss Loggers, I knew that I was not only well liked enough and trusted enough to lead 60-70 kids on the of the most important days of the year, I knew that whatever I was doing was working.
I have taken part in many optional activities throughout my life. Whether it's extra curriculars, sports, or even personal endeavors, I always stay committed to what I started. I can proudly say that I rarely quit something that I made a commitment to. I am so self-determined that I don't even like stopping a math problem that I can't solve. Unfortunately, this ends up leaving me with no time to do the other twenty questions on the test, but that's beside the point. The point is that I like to finish what I have started. It gives closure, accomplishment, and that great feeling you get when you think back to what you were at the beginning and how much better you are now.
Luckily for me I am a generally happy person. In the fourth grade, our family friends and my family embarked on a two week trip to the African bush. We slept in huts, went on walking safaris at five in the morning, and ate entirely the local cuisine. While the trip provided an amazing experience, it also was one of the most incredibly fun trips I've ever been on. On day ten of our trip, we were in Botswana, twenty miles outside of the Kalahari Desert. The plan was to drive into the desert the next day and continue to our next "lodge" on foot. The majority of the group were kids, however there were three adults over the age of 40. The trip had been great, but tiring and demanding. It had taken a toll on our parents so they gave us a decision. We could either continue with our plan, or we could go to a nicer resort back in Zambia. While the rest of the group prepared to vote, I did what I do every time a vote is proposed; I think about what I want, and then I think about what the group wants. In this situation I knew I really wanted to continue on our original trip into the Kalahari. However, judging from the reaction to the proposal, I knew the group wanted something different. So, I didn't vote. Rather than attempt to convince others that I was happy with the decision I simply put on a smile and prepared for whatever was next. In this sense I am easygoing. I can adapt to situations I don't like to be in and I can make others enjoy the situations I do like. Even something as simple as choosing dinner is hard for me because I the end of the day I will manage no matter what we chose. Being easygoing ironically makes the going easier for me, and brightens up dark days.
I don't like to brag, and I won't lie. Those aren't the only three words that describe me, and while my mom may think it, I am not perfect. I am still working on many ways to improve myself, and many ways to get rid of the wrong that I do. I may have only lived fifteen years, but I know one thing. If I can still describe my self the same way in thirty years, I will be just a pleased.
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