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TETHER

Gadget

Have you noticed my  gadget? No? Really? Well, here it is again for you.

Another Cool Blog

Okay, so, like my URL says, my blog is the best. But here's another neat blog by my good friend Kieran. Click here to get to it.

Creative Writing

Life.

And death.

When walking down the street, or filling out your tax returns, they seem so different. So far away from each other. As if they were not even close to the same. When buying candy, or eating it five minutes later, Life. Life is dominant. You are living.

But alas, I am soon to be not. For, now, as I am falling, they are very close together. As life ends death begins, or that is how you see it. I am so confused by the now infinitesimal gap between the two, the life, and the death, that I see it differently. I cannot see it that way, as I am near-death. Near the end of the first part, life, and almost onto the second. Death; terrifically terrible. The beginning of the end. Enforced bliss.

And now, ‘tis upon me. Death.

Organized chaos. Death.

The end. The sweet yet terrible end. Death.

Falling, from one world to the other. Death.

The other.

The other. Birth.
Life.

Day of Silence

Hi guys! Today-...
<crickets>
Well, okay, I guess I can type.
Today I'm going to talk about the Day of Silence, which is convenient, since it's today. First of all, if you want to know more, click here.
So, what do you do for the Day of Silence?
Personally, I have devised a plan about what I'm going to do next time, and here it is; I do not talk or even communicate AT ALL. This does, however, make life difficult. What is I get socked in the arm? There's not exactly the choice for me not to say "ow". That's okay, because if you went the whole day without sound coming out of your mouth, it'd get really dry. More on that, you still can hum, whistle and so, just as long as it isn't communicating in any way. But the hardest thing is when you legitimately need to talk. Now, socializing ("How was your day?", "What are you doing this weekend?" etc.) is totally out of the question. So, we still don't want to talk, but instead of doing the same thing with teachers and bosses that you do with students--because I don't think they would like you calmly acting like you have duct-tape over your mouth (exactly what you want to do)--what you might want to do is still try to communicate with them, just don't speak. If you feel like your being seen as rude, you can do this with your family to.
Why not? I mean, if I'm gonna wave your arms like a lunatic and write stuff down on paper every time I get asked an important question by my teacher or boss, wouldn't it be better just to speak at those times?
Good question. And some people do like to just talk to make things easier. But part of the silence thing is a metaphor. You're representing the many GBLTQ's that don't have the right to speak. Plus, even though it's awfully fun, it's fun, too.
JOIN US IN THE DAY OF SILENCE.
NO, WE ARE NOT TRYING TO IMITATE DARTH VADER. MAYBE.

THINK ABOUT THE VOICES YOU ARE NOT HEARING TODAY. (#dayofsilence)

NOTE: This post IS NOT created by, with or corresponding with the day of silence organization.

The Story of D. B. Cooper

Whatever they say, I am not D. B. Cooper. Although that's what they call me, a plane ticket can lie if it belongs to someone about to hijack a flight.
I went through the usual getting my ticket, boarding the plane, all that. But once we were flying over Oregon, things changed. I leaned over and passed a note to the flight attendant in the jumpseat next to me. She ignored it; simply tossed it into her bag, no doubt thinking it a common love-note. "Miss, you'd better look at that note. I have a bomb." I had written the note in neat letters, reading: "I have a bomb in my briefcase. I will use it if necessary. I want you to sit next to me. You are being hijacked." All of this was true. I did have a bomb; eight sticks of dynamite, and yes, I intended to threaten with it.

The attendant sat down next to me, as the note requested. She believed me. She than asked to see the bomb. I did not deny, opening my case just wide enough to reveal the stack of eight red cylinders.

The next while was her telling the pilot, the pilot telling the airport in Seattle, and the passengers being alerted that the flight would be delayed, because of "minor mechanical problems". I demanded $200,000 dollars, a refueling truck to refuel the plane, four parachutes and a low, slow flight to mexico. Once we got to the airport, these demands were carried out. Having asked for the back door unlocked, the pilot was a little surprised.

But I ended up on the plane.
While flying over the cascades, I did it. I went to the back door, two parachutes strapped to my back, the cash in my hands, and just did it.
I jumped out.

What happened next, is never for you to find out.

Chore Wars Account

Here is my account status on Chore Wars.