Monday, April 18, 2011

Twilight: The Leader of a New Feminist Movement

By: Aisley Oliphant

In October 2005, stay-at-home mother Stephenie Meyer released her premiere novel, Twilight: the first of what was to become one of the hugest sensations the world has ever seen. It set the imaginations of women everywhere on fire with dreams of romance and desire and led to the birth of a feminine fan base completely obsessed with werewolves, vampires, and forbidden romances. These Twihards, so to speak, of all ages, persuasions and marital statuses drive the success of each of the movies and books as they were released, camping out in front of book stores, cinemas, throwing all night parties to celebrate the new releases to the Twilight saga. The results of such culture initiated the beginning of a new feminist movement, one completely backward to the modern feminist movements found in history, revealing the female desire for male over dominance and sensual, pleasure-seeking ideals of modern day women.
            The Twilight Saga sets a standard for how relationships between men and women should be defined. Erica Jong, in her work What do Women Want?: bread roses, sex power, states that “Men must be stripped of arrogance and women must become independent for any mutually nurturing alliance to endure between the sexes” (Jong 54). From the beginning of the first book, Bella Swan finds herself unable to stand on her own and function independently. The moment Edward and Bella begin dating, Bella finds herself severely dependent on Edward; she is unable to go anywhere by herself, unable to sleep without him there (Meyer 311), she even is unable to drive herself places. It becomes clear through the series that the relationship between Edward and Bella is severely codependent, leaving women who read these novels believing that the only way to have a good relationship is if the male is predominant, controlling and obsessive.
            The symbol of Edward simply reinforces this through his inherent superiority in phallic strength and sensuality. Virginia Wolf said:

“Since in Darwinian terms…survival of the fittest means the triumph of the most aggressive human beings, men are and always will be superior to women in terms of their ability to protect and extend their own authority. Therefore women, being ‘weaker’ (less aggressive), will always be at the mercy of men” (Dworkin 60).
Edward consistently exercises masculine control over Bella in all aspects of her life. He is able to make her faint upon command through seduction (Meyer 319), and on many occasions forced safety precautions upon her without her permission, asserting that she is “incredibly breakable” (Meyer 310).
            The endorsement of codependency through the relationship of these two characters hinders the feminist movement toward female independency. Codependency oppresses women, causing them to become severely depressed and dysfunctional. “In our culture women are especially trained to be codependent” (Smith), and perpetual underlings to their male counterparts.
            The archetypal figure that Bella presents to women is of the ultimate damsel in distress.  Bella is in consistent need of being rescued, considered brainless with nothing but her good looks going for her, “distrusting [her] capabilities and sending out the message, ‘I do not know how to take care of myself’” (Pearson 31).  She inevitably finds herself unconscious and/or wounded in the arms of Edward or even the werewolf Jacob. Any action she takes in the heat of battle is impulsive, stupid, and fruitless and puts her into even more danger than she was in the beginning. Bella tells women through her example, that the only way to have a satisfying relationship is through being consistently rescued. This archetype prevents women from furthering their potential into becoming something more than what they already are. “Women need to learn to struggle, to fight for themselves and others” (Pearson 86) to break free of the damsel in distress archetype and discover their self-worth, and find a new definition of themselves.  
            In concordance with being the damsel in distress, Bella represents the desire to be desired. The main conflict in the Twilight saga is defined by the competition between Jacob and Edward for Bella’s affections (Meyer 556). Many women with low self-esteem tend to wish to be the object of desire, and look for any way to attain that status. Bella is presented as stupid, impulsive and needy, thereby asserting that in order to become the object of desire, one needs to also be stupid, impulsive and needy. This once again reinforces the ideology that men should be the dominant force in a relationship, because it gives them the power to manipulate and control women. This presents a problem to the progress of women through, because it prevents, as stated in the above paragraph, the furthering of character, and the ability for the woman to achieve her goals and a sense of independence that is necessary to break the damsel in distress archetype.
            On the other hand, Bella is also presented as a hero, because of her abilities to control Edward and Jacob through her sexuality. Numerous times, she is able to manipulate Edward and/or Jacob into giving into her way because of their deep feelings for her. She is able to convince the werewolves and the vampires to work together to eliminate one of her opponents, and thereby showing women that it is okay to use sexuality to get ones way, as long as it is for the greater good. But the definition of a hero does not come from one’s singularity, but from the teamwork with “everyone involved [having] [their] say and everyone’s thoughts and feelings…respected” (Ross 232). Bella’s manipulation brings to light the idea that men are easily controlled merely by sex, and by manipulating them just so, makes the woman a hero.
            Bella takes a backward step into traditional feminism through her inability to assert herself, and function independently. The relationship between Edward and Bella is extremely one sided, and does not allow for growth on either end. In Arguing with the Phallus: feminist, queer and postcolonial theory, a psychoanalytic contribution, Jan Campbell asserts that “The first phase, stressing equality or sameness between men and women, is characterized by Simone de Beauvoir’s exhortation to women to find their true humanity and free themselves from the bonds of traditional feminism”(Campbell 98). The main goal for modern feminism is to “[define], [establish] and [defend] equal political, economic, and social rights and equal opportunities for women” (“Wikipedia”), and also develop a new sense of oneself that will empower the woman to become independent and accomplish things they would not otherwise be able to do under the oppression of the male figure. It is only through this independence that women find the ability to stand as an equal partner in society.
 Additionally, the female population is faced with the problem of breaking free of the stereotypical relationship, with the women carrying around a “petty, stiff, primitive man” and the men “an ambivalent, sensual, somewhat inferiority-afflicted woman” (von Franz 159).  Women are presented with examples through Bella and Edward of the restrictive traditional feminism in an appealing fashion that entices women to accept and even settle for less than what they deserve. Through the breaking of this mold, women assert themselves in an acceptable fashion, and prevent an overbearance of the male symbol.
            Not only does the craze over Twilight reveal the underlying desires of women to be subjected to overbearing male patriarchy, control and manipulation, it reveals a sensual and pleasure-seeking side of women that is considered “liberating”. The Twihard movement of modern day society can be likened to the “flapper” movement of the 1920’s:

“Nearly half of all young women engaged in premarital intercourse, a proportion that would not change until the 1960’s, while many others eagerly ‘explored the borderlands.’ Not inhibition, but ‘sex starvation’ dominated the complaints of these insatiable innovators. Having achieved widespread recognition, female desire now threatened to engulf the nation… Magazine tabloids and Hollywood motion pictures, for example, played it up. The advertisement for Flaming Youth, a highly successful Hollywood film, guaranteed titillation from ‘neckers, petters, white kisses, red kisses, pleasure-mad daughters and sensation-craving mothers’” (Buhle 91).        
While these Twihard fans may not be physically promiscuous, their desires and addiction to the books bring out a whole new level of satisfaction of said “sex starvation”.
           For women, gaining sexual satisfaction is risky business. When a woman lives by the saying “I take whatever I want, and baby, I want you”, it is considered “socially unacceptable” (Pearson 31). While the flappers in the 1920’s gained their satisfaction through promiscuity, the Twihards reach for a more subtle satisfaction. They reach for their Twilight books. While a men’s arousal comes from touch and images, a woman’s arousal comes from emotional attachment and feelings. By reading these books, women receive the same feelings (to a point) that men would get from having sex, thereby satisfying their thirst for sexual satisfaction.
            The modern society does not, in fact, encourage fidelity to one person. Modern day pop culture emphasizes having more than one partner, or even avoiding marriage altogether. Twihards fall prey easily to this notion because of their desire to have an “Edward” or a “Jacob”. The encouragement of “pleasure-mad daughters and sensation-craving mothers” drives infidelity home. In essence, members of the Twihard persuasion that are married, and are completely obsessed with Jacob or Edward (or both even) are not remaining entirely devoted to their husbands. By reading these books, it allows women to practice a sort of infidelity to their husbands if they are not satisfied with his sexual performance, or even with their own. It empowers women with the opportunity to seek after what they want, and the ability to get it.
            With the release of the Twilight movie in November 2008, the craze only deepened. Hollywood motion pictures did indeed “play up” the movie, designing it specifically for those sex-starved individuals that made up the majority of the Twihard population. Completely geared toward women, it placed a face, to the much desired Edward Cullen (Robert Patterson) and Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner), thereby igniting a new level of fanaticism to the starvation. Not only can women now embark on a sensual journey through the imagination, but also visually.
            One of the most widely valued ideals of society is self-image, the way that one looks to others in the community, world, etc. Upon the addition to human faces to the highly coveted vampire and werewolf boyfriends, greater importance was placed on being seen as attractive, and being with someone attractive. With the release of Twilight, the psychosis of appearances brought to light that if one has an attractive boyfriend, they have earned the right to the high life in society. It is through this that women are encouraged to look solely at how much money someone has, or how good looking they are, rather than focusing on the personality, and long lasting qualities of a person. More emphasis is placed on finding “trophy” husbands and/or wives along with lust and desire rather than a truly compatible companion who possesses an undying and true love for their partner.
            Since the initial release in October 2005, the Twilight saga has exploded into an all-out feminist movement that rippled across the United States, influencing an enormous pool of people. The creation of the Twihard culture revealed the female desire for male dominance in romantic relationships, and also the undying thirst for sexual satisfaction. It is almost inconceivable that a simple stay-at-home mother could possibly begin a movement has drastically changed the face of feminism as found in the history books. The examples found in Edward and Bella’s relationship have greatly influenced the way that relationships function and are viewed in modern society, and even have initiated a “sexual liberation” of the woman in ways that no one could have predicted.
               
               

Works Cited:
Buhle, Mari Jo. Feminism and Its Discontents: a century of struggle with psychoanalysis. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998. 432. Print.
Campbell, Jan. Arguing with the Phallus: feminist, queer and postcolonial theory, a psychoanalytic contribution. London, UK: Zed Books Ltd, 2000. 248. Print.
Dworkin, Andrea. "BIOLOGICAL SUPERIORITY: the world's most dangerous and deadly idea." Feminism and Sexuality: A Gender and Culture Reader. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996. Print.
"Feminism." Wikipedia. N.p., April 13, 2011. Web. 17 Apr 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminism>.
Hall, Donald E. Literary and Cultural Theory. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2001. 331. Print.
Jong, Erica. What do Women Want?: bread, roses, sex power. 1st ed. New York: HarperCollinsPublishers, 1998. 202. Print.
Meyer, Stephenie. New Moon. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2006. 563. Print.
Meyer, Stephenie. Twilight. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2005. 498. Print.
Meyer, Stephenie. "The Story Behind Twilight." The Official Website of Stephenie Meyer. Stephenie Meyer, Web. 4 Apr 2011. <http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilight.html>.
Pearson, Carol S. Six Archetypes We Live By: The Hero Within. Expanded. New York: HarperSanFransisco, 1989. 210. Print.
Ross, Sharon. ""Tough Enough": Female Friendship and Heriosm in Xena and Buffy." Action Chicks: New Images of Tough Women in Popular Culture. Paulgrave Macmillan, 2004. Print.
Smith, Mark. "Codependency – A Serious Disease of Lost, Confused, Undeveloped and Other-Centered Selves." Family Tree Counseling Associates: Individual and Marital Therapy n. pag. Web. 17 Apr 2011. <http://www.familytreecounseling.com/fullarticle.php?aID=278>.
von Franz, Marie-Louise. The Archetypal Dimensions of the Psyche. Boston, MA: Shambhala Publications, 1997. 405. Print.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Dear Love,

You are different than any I’ve ever met.
Why is it when I am near you, everything feels alright?
Why do you hurt so deep when you are unbearable?
Why are you unpredictable?
Why do I find you in the silliest of places?
You cause accidents which aren’t meant to happen, and yet they are.
Why do you bring the height of joy, yet the depths agony all in The Moment?
How can you keep me grounded in reality, yet soaring high in the tallest cloud?
Why does your blade cut the deepest?
Is it because you are The Protector and The Slayer?
Are you as gentle as you seem?
No.
A Protector; a Slayer; Tormentor; Companion.
How can you be all this and be so simple, though simple you are not?
Your Map of Lines and Triangles only set to confuse and hinder.

Why do you speak in two voices from head to heart and heart to head?
Do you seek to mislead?
Do you seek to reveal?
You are so simple, yet infinitely complex.
You can’t be explained with less than a sentence, but easily described within your own name.
You make my chest swell, and set my heart free!
Your fantasies are hardly reality, yet remain real to me.
How can you cause one Soul to care for Another so much they forget themselves?
But how can you drive others to mistake and Insanity?
It is not your nature to make a fool of mankind?
You defy the voice of reason, and speak volumes of far-fetching dreams!
Why must you confuse?
Why are you so frightening in your pure and true form?
Why do you cause grown men to shrink from your arms, though warm and beautiful they be?
How can you be so fleeting, but last for Eternity?
How do you break but mend hearts all in one breath?

Love, you elude me.
You hurt me, but Heal me.
You cloud Sight, but clear Sight.
Why can’t you be simple, and easy to understand?
You bring me happiness beyond my being, and slicing agony I cannot bear.
You give me wings to fly, a voice to sing, and tears to cry,
but you create confusion I wish to dispel.

Oh dearest Love, will you ever give me rest?

January 29, 2011

A Poem I Could Not Title

The trees bent double laughing,
their breath catching in their chests
in a low moan
Their mirth shakes their frames
and happy tears caress their coverings
They dance and sing
the picture of joy
It is they who make the most
in life, allowing cares to drain with rain

The elders look on,
wrinkled and turning mossy grey.
Long beards and stooping limbs
creak their wisdom to those that listen
Slowly swaying and chanting their song,
They whisper tales of epics old
wizen’d old wizards with knowledge untold
Their stories echo in their rutted faces
They reach high in praise of their Creator,
the picture of humble piety

I walk through and past them,
divining all they say.
I listen to their happy laughter
and ponder the wisdom they share
Any others who wander here listen
to pressing silence
They cannot hear the cacophony,
a euphony meant only for me.

May 12, 2009

Finding Happiness

Happiness can be like
finding a needle in a haystack.

It is a daunting task, but
when at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

When searching for happiness it is important not to
count your chickens before they hatch.

It's possible that people may scoff at you, so remember
their bark is worse than their bite,

And they'll soon realize that
when in Rome,to do as the Romans do.

The rat race soon begins, and
he who hesitates is lost.

But once it's realized happiness cannot be found alone, you
divide and conquer

because
there is strength in numbers.

But beware of
a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Because when you think you find happiness,
a bad penny always turns up.

Quickly discard it, for
some things are not what they seem.

By the end, everyone looses hope.
Oh ye of little faith,

never say die.

Because
there is always a silver lining.

When it seems like there is no hope of finding it, we discover
after a storm comes a calm,

And Happiness can be found
as plain as the nose on your face.

May 11, 2009

The Great Lover

These I have loved:
Luminescent plants reveling in the rain, glowing happy green;
The splashy-smeared sunrise oozing across the sky; birdsong;
Silky ivory brushing beneath my outstretched fingers; music melodious;
The rough and round feel of the pages as they slip, flip and flee;
Lilting and rotund tones of intonation over silver tongues; comfort;
The feathery caress; the tang of rain; the salty sting of victory;
Familiarity of places I know best, the sweet and savory sensational smells;
The snuggling wrap of a blanket; the snow’s gentle kiss;
Frozen time when the Earth holds its breath; a blue loon;
Capering colors whirling; a musty book whispering my name;
The lure of exquisite cuisine; hugs;
The fiery exhilaration of speed and finesse coursing through veins;
The streamline whisk of wind through my hair; the living smell of nature;
Free-flowing freedom buoying me higher;
The roaring magnificence and strength of falling water;
Vivacious eyes and bright lightened features; belly-clenching laughter;
Good times with friends; eternal peace.
All these have been my loves.

Modeled after a poem by Rupert Brooke
 4-15-09

Clouds

Storm clouds clog thinking and reason, crippling as sense of up and down
Who is who, where is where.
Black and grey, yellow and blue, pink or red, they all swirl.
Those who get caught, can ne'er wrest free alone.
And those not caught, beware, for it is fruitless to avoid the inevitable.
To go around is to be unfeeling, uncaring, and dead.
Only one can help guide and disperse the storm, and He is there.
Be not afraid of the storms, they are ephemural.
With one word they can be gone.
It's all a test, a test of will, endurance, and faith.

Some clouds take forms, making their presence blatantly known.
Raven, Snake, Alligator, Pirhana;
All leads one thing to become another,
All blackened and undesireable.
Those who balk from these only become consumed, deeper and deeper
To something binding and scarring, destructive and deadened.
There is only one answer:
Call on He that is bigger, stronger, more powerful, all knowing.

Once invoked, no harm befalls.
For protection of the mightiest
Causes great enemies to falter.
The vortex ends, destroyed by light.
The worst is over and the warm, white clouds decend upon the troubled
Soothing the batterings and wounds of any battle.
The red, the pink, the blue, the black, the grey, the yellow
All are scattered, leaving only pearly colors of Him that Saves.
Thanks to Him, no need to fear
and with Him there, no foe can leer.

March 3, 2009

Little Stubborn Stewie

Here is the story of Little Stubborn Stewie:

Stewie was a very stubborn and whiney child. He lived on a farm with his family, and they didn't like it when Stewie got stubborn.

One fine morning, Stewie's father told Stewie it was time to get up to go to school. Elementary School. Stewie hated school. Elementary School. He really didn't like going because there was this ugly kid with a potato up his nose (of which Stewie was stubbornly convinced it was because he angered the Idahoan at recess) that made fun of him because he was beefy and had carrot red hair. And then, he couldn't forget the one girl with the sock on her face (and this he stubbornly believed was due to a wardrobe accident, though there was much speculation on that fact) who glowered at him whenever he sharpened his pencil. He hated school. Elementary School.

So when Stewie's dad called him downstairs to get ready for school, he stubbornly began to think of excuses. He played in bed until his dad came up to get him.

"Come on Stew, it is time to go to school,"
Elementary School.

"But the sun isn't up!" whined Stewie stubbornly.

"That is just fine, Stew. Just get up. it is time to go to school."
Elementary School.

Stewie sighed. He immediately moved to his next plan (plan B).

"I can't go!" protested Stewie. "The chickens haven't yet had their eggs gathered."

"That is perfectly ok, Stew. It's time to go to school."
Elementary School.

"But," Stewie said stubbornly. "The cows haven't been milked!"

"Stew, you have to go to school!"
Elementary School.

Stewie thought for a moment. "I don't want to go. I'm sick."

Stewie's father looked at him with the I'm-now-going-to-tell-you-a-horror-story-to-get-you-to-drop-the-childish-stubborness-so-you'll-do-what-I-ask look. Stewie knew what it was coming.

"You know, Stewie..." his father began. Stewie joined in with his father word, for word.

"Zombie bugs come out when stubborn (and whiny) children don't do what their parents ask them. Especially when the parents aren't around. If you stay home, Stew, the zombie bugs will eat you alive." mocked Stewie, rolling his eyes. "You know dad, it intimidated me when I was, like 7, but now I'm 7 and 2 months. I can stay home all by myself. There are no such things as Zombie bugs." Stewie stubbornly stood his ground.

His father gave in like a brick wall versus a potato cannon. "Alright Stewie, if you want to be so stubborn. I'm going to work in the city today. They flowers in the roundabout are dying, and instead of bringing in the harvest from our own fields, I will beautify the city we don't even live in." Stewie's father left.

Stewie buried himself deeper into the folds of his bed and closed his eyes. About an hour later he felt something skittering about on the floor. Disregarding it for his weenie dog, Bugget, he turned over...to come FACE TO ANTENNA WITH A GIANT COCKROACH! It's little eyes were white and unseeing. Stewie flicked it off his bed nonchalantly and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard a little voice speaking in a British accent.

"Naow, wot did yew dew that for?"

Stewie, beleiveing he was dreaming, replied in the same accent (but mockingly).

"Well, oi thought oi wood git yew out of moy sleepin' space." He opened his eyes to find the speaker. Casting his eyes about the room, he didn't see anyone. He dropped the accent. "Where are you?"

"Oi'm roight he-ah, caln't yew see me? Down He-ah!" Stewie looked down. Standing on the floor by his bed was a little man in a plaid shirt and white hair with slacks and tennis shoes. He was wearing glasses and looked slightly like a Band teacher he used to have. His hair ranged from Stone grey to snow white.

"Ooooh-kay. Well I'm gonna go back to sleep." Stewie rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. After a moment, he heard a strange scrabbling noise scritcha-scratching across his floor. It sounded like a mass army of zombie bugs. Stewie rolled his eyes beneath his eyelids.

Then as if he had heard his thoughts, Stewie heard the little man shout, "That's because they are ...

ZOMBIE BUGS!!!!!

Stewie sat up quicker than thunder! "AHHHH! DAD WAS RIGHT! THERE ARE SUCH THINGS AS

ZOMBIE BUGS!!!!! "

There were hordes and hordes of them! The floor was carpeted with black beetle hides and crawlie spider legs and silky fly wings! All of the zillions of eyes were milky white and sightless, and the worst part, his weenie dog, Bugget had been zombified too!! Bugget stood there drooling stupidly, and mounted on his flee collar was the little man with Stone grey hair. He had crazed look in his eyes.

"CHARGE!!!!! " he screamed with fire in his eyes!

All at once, the carpet surged upward and onto Stewies bed. From the outside, an eldritch scream tore the dewy morning. Daisy the cow flicked her tail and continued chewing cud. She was a cow, and why would she care about anything other than her cud? She quickly whipped a fly in the eye. Yes, Skore!!

The farm was quiet the rest of the day until Stewie's father came home. He opened the door, feeling exhuberant. He thought nothing of the silence of the house, the strange, and eternal, deathly silence of the house. He, for the time, forgot that Stewie had stayed home from school (Elementary School), so he sat infront of the television to wait for his arrival.

4:00 came and went, and finally, Stewie's father remembered he had decided to stay home from school. Elementary School. He mounted the stairs, opened the door to Stewies room and found Stewie passed out on his bed. His father smiled.

"Stewie! Wake up! School is over!"

Elemenatry School.

Stewie groaned and sat up, rubbing his closed eyelids. "Wow, Dad, I must have slept the day away. I had the most horrible nightmare that there were all these Zombie bugs, and Bugget was a Zombie and there was this little man...and they scratched my eyes out! It was horrible!!"

Stewie's dad patted his head. "don't worry, it's all over now."

Stewie opened his eyes. Everything was dark, pitch black. "Dad, what time is it? Dad? Dad?!"

His father didn't answer, his gaze rivited on Stewies milky white, sightless eyes. "I-its 4:30, the s-sun h-hasn't even g-gone down!!" He managed to stutter out.

Studdenly it hit Stewie. "It...it...wasn't a dream...was it.........?"

Stewie thought he heard a tiny voice laughing maniacally from deep beneath the recesses of his bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moral of this story is that stubborness can lead to potential blindness, whether it be by simply refusing to walk with scissors rather than run, or refusing to wear goggles during a highly dangerous experiament. And don't mess with the little people. They have trained assassins.

Disclaimer: any person(s) of whose likeness was used in this fable was completely intentional and ment severe harm to self esteem. Let that be a warning to the rest of you....

Little Sally Sockface

Here is a story of little Sally Sock-Face:

Little Sally Sock-Face had a sad life. She had a sock on her face. There really was no way for her to get the sock off her face, no matter what type of bleach they used to try and corrode it off. It still stuck fast.

Sally used to have friends, but then the sock got stuck, and they all went away giving her the title Sally Sock-Face. Instead of saying hi to her in the halls like before, everyone merely looked at her and then held their noses declaring loudly that the sock stunk.

"how would you know?" sally retorted one day at Henery the Hugely Abusive Boy (as she called him), "you aren't the one with the sock on your face? Maybe i should give you a little experience called Sally "Sock-Face 'socks Henery really hard flattening his nose'?"

Hehery the H.A.B. just scoffed and walked away.

"Just wait," vowed Sally Sock-Face, "I'll get him. I'll build a potato cannon and shoot nylons with sprouted yams inside up his nose. See how he likes it."

So then that weekend, Sally googled 'potato cannons' and found out how to assemble one. So she went to his house on saturday night and aimed it at his bedroom window. She quickly set it off.


KABLAMSHATTER!!!!!

An eldritch scream rent the night and was abruptly silenced!!!

Sally shrugged, "the deed is done."

****
She went back to school the next day and didn't see Henery the H.A.B. at all until he sulked in to seventh period Chemistry. The entire class turned to look at the horror that stood before them. In unison, they all (excepting Sally, but including the teacher) hid their eyes! one kid said "I never thought Hollywood would come to UTAH!!!" just as Sally thought, 'Gee, I'm a freakin' good shot!!'

Henery's right nostril (the one with the extremely large "freckle" but sally was conviced it was a mole) was horribly enlarged and stuffed up it was a good thick yam stuffed in a nylon with roots sticking out of holes. Sally inwardly shuddered. Roots in the nasal cavity was probably worse than a root in the canal.

Henery shame-facedly made his way to his seat, vainly trying to hide his deformity.

"Dere id do way for de do'tors do rembove id," sulked Henery, "day sed id was perbabent."

Sally didn't respond, but resumed working on an atomic equation.

She found herself gazing at the yam more often than she could help. It was distracting seeing Henery try and do his homework over his yam. It was distracting seeing Henery peering down his yam to see the board. 'This kid, probably is the most distracting thing to walk the earth!!' All the students unknowingly thought in unison.

Sally just laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moral of this story is that misery loves company. Especially if they can laugh at their companion, knowing that they were the ones causeing the downfall. Whatever you do, don't make enemies with Google addicts, because they know where to find all the potato cannon blue prints. And they generally know where you live. Just don't get involved.

Disclaimer: any person(s) of whose likeness was used in this fable was completely intentional and meant severe harm to self esteem. Let that be a warning to the rest of you....

Friday, April 8, 2011

Episode 1.1: The Quest for the Missing Chocos

Once upon a time in a magical land, there were two little creatures. One's name was Jeff and the other's was Carl. Carl was aptly named because he was the only one of his kind that actually looked like a Carl out of his entire species. You are probably asking yourself, what sort of creatures do these characters Jeff and Carl happen to be?

Well. Let me Explain.

Jeff was small and round. He was silver and two tiny feet. A long antenna extended from the top of his head and ended in a sphere like shape that served as a reading light, communication device and a fondu server all at once. He had no arms, was slightly furry, absolutely soft and very careful with his words. His glistening eyes glistened in the sunrise, but at no other time. His small mouth looked as though he was perpetually stuck in a moment of surprise. He was also a curious little Booble, with loads of curiosity and a huge craving for Chocos.

Carl, on the other hand, was very different. He was a salmon colored Booble who wasn't much one for fondu, loud parties or really doing much at all. But, he did enjoy long walks in the park, elaborate poetry and the occasional Choco.

Our story begins on one beautiful morning with the awakening of our dear Booble Jeff. He promptly arouse as a crack of the dawn began to ooze over the horizon. As dictated in his morning wake-up routine, Jeff reached down and touched his toes with his antenna and then reached tall to touch the ceiling of his little Booble house. He then brusquely boobled his way down the escalator straight into the kitchen. He made a beeline for the cupboard where all the glasses and plates were kept. He placed the appropriate utensils and glassware on the table, poured some fresh jorange oose and bounced happily over to the pantry.

Jeff stood, bouncing on the balls of his little feet, anticipating his daily breakfast of delicious Choco that always accompanied his mandatory dose of jorange oose. He closed his glistening eyes and imagined the sumptuous, silky, and sensational sensation of the Choco filling his mouth and coating his tongue. After a moment, he could stand it no longer and threw open the pantry to a sight so horrible, Jeff's big booblie eyes almost popped from his face and jumped out an open window!! Jeff's sorrow, wrenched scream rent the quiet morning to shreds!

"NOOOO!!!!!!! How could this BE?!"

Jeff fell on his face, his whole body wrenched with sobs. His once carefully stocked Choco pantry was 
EMPTY.