Yearbook Assignment: Pictures

I don't think a single picture can capture the entire essence of the yearbook. The yearbook itself is just a book. But what it represents-- the people, the moments, the memories-- are what really last. The book is just something you can look back at 10, 20, even 50 years from now and say, "Remember that time when..." To try to capture all of that, in just one image, would be an insult to all the time we've spent at this school, all the time we've spent with friends, every great moment we've had has a small community. So, no picture from me, just a statement.

Photo Essay #1--An Urban Adventure

Write out complete web address for Photo Essay.
http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1817370,00.html

What is the subject or topic of the Essay?
Parkour.

How did you respond to the Essay? What impact did it have on you?
I was surprised anyone would do an essay on this little known subject. Parkour can also be defined as Urban Acrobatics. I liked the photos that accompanied the captions, especially the Montages.

Parkour Photo Montage

It impacted me because I am an amateur traceur myself. Traceur's are those who participate in Parkour.

What makes the photos effective? How do they tell their story?

Photo montages, like the ones above and below, outline the movements of Parkour, showing how a traceur may complete such movements.

How much copy accompanies each photo? What makes the copy effective?

About two or three sentences accompany each photo. The copy is effective because, although it is short, it is to the point and sums up the photo in just a few words.

IM DYING

Now that I have your attention, who has ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons, commonly known as D&D? Alright, for those of you that have, who would like to join the campaign I'm starting?

For those of you that haven't, Dungeons and Dragons (D&D), is not an MMORPG. It is not a video game. It is not a board game. It is not even a game in which nerds sit around a table and move tiny figurines over a hand-drawn map which severely lacks imagination. It is, as originally intended, a table-top, dice-rolling game. It was invented by Gary Gygax. The first edition books, known as Player's Handbook(s), Monster Manual(s), Weapon Manual(s), and A Beginner's Guide to D&D, were handwritten and illustrated by Gygax himself.
Other than those books (which are completely optional), all you need is a character sheet, hand-drawn maps (optional), and a set of seven dice, consisting of a normal six-sided, a four-sided, a twelve-sided, an eight-sided, a twenty-sided, and two ten-sided dice. There are also thirty-sided, one hundred-sided, and five-hundred sided, though these are optional.
D&D is, in short, an imagination game. And, as I see it, creative imagination  or imaginativity at all, is rarely found in the growing generation. Our imaginations are severely limited by the technologies, TV Shows, Movies, and other such things that stimulate our creative side, but give us nothing to go on ourselves.
Books are a good supplement for this, but less and less people like to read. Eventually, if you look at it from a pessimistic point-of-view, books will die out and be replaced by mindless television programming, which will find any way to stay on the air.

So, if you wish to begin a friendly debate with me, are interested in learning more about Dungeons and Dragons, or even wish to join the campaign I'm beginning, comment.

A Peek At My Up-and-Coming Novel: "Marked for Death" (It's a bit lengthy, but bear with it yeah?)

Prologue

  

The servant silently walked through the doors of the bedchamber. There was a consistent wailing cry. No, two wailing cries. Twins. The servant nearly froze in shock. Twins being born for the kingdom was unheard of. There was a sudden cry of rage and an expensive vase shattered against the wall near the servants head. The servant edged into the extravagant room and saw why the King was in a rage. The queen was dying. By the amount of blood on the sheets, she had fifteen minutes, at the most.

The servant took another couple of steps into the room. The King noticed him and stopped his rampage, obviously thinking.  Then he walked over to the crib concealing the two children. He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. The King suddenly straightened up and waved the servant over next to him. The servant hesitated at first, but the King’s beckoning hand seemed to become more urgent. He quickly walked over to his King.

“Servant. What is your name?” the King asked. “My name? It has been so long since anyone spoke it my King… but it is Kaefstan. Kaefstan Rouge. Why do you ask, my King?” the King nodded and twisted off one of his four rings. “Kaefstan. There is a trade ship at the Space Docks. Take my son with you to a planet far from here, far from this galaxy.  I… We cannot bear to lose another of our family.” He placed the ring into Kaefstan’s hand and closed his fingers around it, hiding the ring from sight. He then picked up the bundle of blood-red blankets, from which a deep, contented breathing was issuing. The child was asleep.

Kaefstan nodded, knowing that the King was exiling not only him, but his own son, for the good of the kingdom. There was suddenly the sound of grinding coming from the elevator, indicating that it was coming to a stop. “I’ve informed the priests that only one child was born,” the King told Kaefstan. Kaefstan went to bow, but the King gently laid a hand on his chest. “Kaefstan Rouge, loyal servant of the Kingdom of Castrofe, I release from your duties with this final order,” the King said, “take my son. Raise him to know what it is like to be a commoner among the Stars. For I fear the house of Uroam has forgotten what we came from. Protect my son with your life.”

There were voices just beyond the door. The King ushered Kaefstan towards one of the many secret servant entrances. “Sir, your majesty, what should I name him?” the king smiled at Kaefstan’s question with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m sure you shall think of something, Kaefstan. You always do. Now go! To the Space Docks!” Kaefstan half-ran half-walked through the corridors, trying his best to stay hidden, even when no one else was in sight.

As he walked behind the kitchens, he heard voice through the thin wall. “The King is doomed. Priest Cloff knows what must be done, for the good of the Kingdom. The house of Uroam shall fall this night,” dark chuckling followed this statement. Kaefstan let out a small gasp. This was the true reason the King sent his son away. The chuckling stopped. “Did you hear that, Scourge?” Kaefstan held his breath and slowly backed away. “I hear a rat!” another voice shouted. This voice was deep, gruff, scarred. The shout was followed by a fist coming through the wall. “Hello little rat!”

The hand had snatched at Kaefstan, grabbing a handful of robes. Kaefstan did the only thing he could have. He unsheathed his dagger, the one he was told at the beginning of his service to always have with him, and sliced through the hand in one fluid motion. The hand fell, leaving nothing but a stump behind, spouting blood. There may have been a scream, but Kaefstan didn’t hear it. He was already sprinting out through the gardens and vaulting the back wall.

Kaefstan dropped thirty feet and landed on the roof of a shop, in the market square. He rolled off, being sure to keep the child safe in his arms. He may have heard a small crunch emanate from his left foot, but he ignored it. “Nice of you to drop in. Would like to have a look at my wares?” a voice spoke behind him. Kaefstan slowly turned and laid eyes upon quite possibly the ugliest woman he had ever seen. Words couldn’t even begin to describe her, but the banner draped over the table read Madamé Madame, Fortune Teller.

“Perhaps a charm necklace for the babe? I see a great destiny awaits him, especially since he is the last of the line of Uroam.” Madame said. Kaefstan used to believe fortune telling was nothing but, as the old term goes, smoke and mirrors. That changed real fast. “Please. The Space Docks. Do you know the quickest way to get there?” Kaefstan asked. Madame motioned for him to lean closer. Kaefstan complied.

“Do you truly wish to take this child from here, for now? He will suffer much pain, misery, and death before he returns. It would be easier to abandon him,” she said. Kaefstan didn’t have to consider for a second. “It is my duty. The last orders of the king. I will not fail.” Kaefstan answered. Madame smiled. “I thought so. Take this,” she placed something around the child’s neck, a charm of some sort. No easy feat with such a fat babe. “and go this way.”

She waved her arm and a short, dark tunnel opened behind her. “Do not fear, Kaefstan Rouge. He will be strong. Stronger than his forefathers and stronger than those who have suffered the Mark.” Kaefstan was suddenly uneasy. “Why do you help me — us?” he asked. Madame smiled and, for a moment, Kaefstan saw the beautiful woman she once was. “Let’s just say I have my own score to settle with the Priests of Gall. Now, flee!” she said, then pushed him down the tunnel, the entrance closing behind him, blocking the sounds of the market.

Kaefstan only needed to follow the tunnel for about a hundred yards before he came to the end. He laid his hand on the blank wall in front of him and sighed. A dead end. Then he heard a small hiss and dim light suddenly appeared to make the outline of a door. Kaefstan pushed gently and the door swung open, revealing the Space Docks. He stepped out and the door swung shut behind him. He turned and searched for any sort of trigger mechanism, finding nothing. Even when he knocked, it seemed solid all the way through.

Kaefstan was about to conduct a more thorough search when he heard shouting. It was guards under the command of the Priests of Gall. Kaefstan bundled the child more securely in his arms and sprinted for the nearest ship. He dashed up the loading bridge just as the crew was pulling it in. Kaefstan checked the child’s breathing. Amazingly, it was still asleep, even after all that had happened. It had a content smile on its face.

Stop thinking of it as an ‘it,’ Kaefstan. Is it male or female? What will I name it? Kaefstan scolded himself. He slowly adjusted the bundle and checked. Male. Definitely male. He readjusted the blankets and went about thinking of a name. “Oi! You! Whatchya duin on dis ‘ere ship?” spoke a gruff male voice. Kaefstan looked around. He was surrounded by nearly the entire crew. “Umm… My name is Kaefstan Rouge. I seek safe passage to…” Kaefstan paused. Where is the only safe place for this child?

“The Edge. Or near it anyways. As close as you can get us.” A couple of the traders stepped back, some made a sign to ward off evil, and some even cracked a smile like it was a joke. Than a big, muscular man stepped forward. From the band around his arm, it was obvious he was the captain. “We’ll take to Duranda. It’s a desert planet just on the Edge. Literally as close as you can get. Just tell me one thing. What is the child’s name?” Kaefstan looked down at the sleeping babe. “His name? His name is Zane. Zane Uroam.”

Hello!!!!!

Kiiteh!

My thoughts when parents friends come over and I don't want to socialize.

An Entry Depicting My (Lack Of) Social Life ~ Prom

Alright, so, for those of you who were unaware, Prom was April 20th (4/20). I went. And I didn't go alone! Yes, I actually asked someone out on a date! She said yes! And she didn't reel back in horror at my askance!
Anyways....... I had a good time. We had a good time. Danced a couple of times. I think someone spiked the punch. Went to Waffle House afterwards. She also agreed to go see Iron Man 3 with me opening night. Hope that's a good sign....

A Survey (stolen from Chris at theoriginalchroiclesofchris.blogspot.com)

1. What is your favourite kind of food?

2. Favourite past time during the day? 

3. Favourite genre of music? Of bookes?

4. What form/style of art are you interested in? 

5.What country do you want to visit? 

6. What is your favourite colour?

7. Do you play any instruments? What instrument do you want to play? 

8. Any talents?

9. Pet peeves?

10. Can you multi-task?

11. Favourite restaurant?

12. Do you know what Hot Topic is?

13. Are you bored with this survey?

14. Have you ever left the country? Where to?

16. Are you hungry or thirsty?

17. Are you wondering why I'm taking this Survey?

18. What is your birthdate? Birthplace? Can you calculate how old you are to the exact second?

19. Do you any nicknames? What are they?

20. This isn't a question.

21. How many people's lives have you changed?

22. What is your favourite colour?

23. Did you see that 15 is missing?

24. Favourite TV show? Is it still on?

25. Did you see 22 is a repeated question?

My Top 3 Hobbies

Alright, so this post is obviously about My Top 3 Hobbies.

Hobby 1~ Writing!

I absolutely LOVE to write. Mostly fantasy/fiction, or fantasy, but, when necessary, I can write non-fiction. I prefer fiction because it allows me to get all of these ideas out of my head and onto tangible (in this case, paper). I aspire to be an author later in my life, which is probably why I shall minor in English in college. I've been told by many people that my writing simply makes them forget what they're reading is fictitious. I have even had one famous author, to whom I sent a couple rough drafts, tell me "Your work ensnared my mind and transported me to a different world. For someone this young to be this advanced is simply unfathomable. I very much wish to make your acquaintance in the near future." That author was Rick Riordan, so I don't take that compliment lightly.

Hobby 2~ Tennis!

I started playing tennis a couple years ago, but many people have told me I have advanced quickly in the amount of time I've had. I'm not an awesome player, but I can hold my own in a match. I'm not going to give away my playing style here, but I will tell you, when I start a point, I like to play fast and hard. And if I just happen to win that point, I feel great. If I lose, I get slightly angry (at myself) but, other than that, I don't show any other emotion. It's kind of freaky (if I do say so myself) but it unsettles my opponents and puts them in an awkward position making them wonder "Did he mean to do that?"

Hobby 3~ Reading!

Let me give you an example of how much I like reading: By the time I was 8, I was reading at a Graduate school level. Pretty cool, huh? I've always been able to read faster than most of my peers, even learn faster. It can be an advantage, but, because I was so good at it, it kind of labeled me as a weirdo. So, I was socially deprived until high school. That's when a group of people became my friends and helped me become part of who I am today. Hopefully, you don't blame them. ANYWAYS.... Now, I read better than most college Professors (I've been tested in this area), and, when debating, I use my hoarded knowledge of books to help me win nearly any debate possible. One rule about my reading though: Never, EVER, take away my books. They actually helped me get to where I am today. Literally.

Well, that's it for now. Until then, Whiskey Husk!

A Short/Simple Poem

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Bow ties are cool,
And so are all of you.

About Me, I Guess

Apparently, this is me.

Purple! Its me again! This is my "About Moi" (french for me). That picture is me, I guess. I'm about 5"7' & 130 lbs. I'm a straight-up weirdo. Or eccentric. Whichever you prefer. I was born August 28th, 1995, at 8:22pm in Pittsfield, Massachusetts (which is in Berkshire County). I'm really ADHD, so I'm scatterbrained and refuse to eat peanuts. That doesn't compute... Comment questions and I'll answer. That's all for now!

The First of Many...

This is the first

This is my first blog pos

How do I even begi

This is so stupid, i don't even

What should I write about? I do

Hello. I am Alexander. Even though you already know that because the name of the blog is Inside The Mind~Alexander Harrington... I hope I don't drive you insane with my idiotic ramblings and misuse of proper nouns... kinda don't have anything left to say... Fudge Laser! That's a new insult I made up a few minutes ago. Also, Biscuit Munch! or Son of a Biscuit Munch!
That's it for now...