Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Sad Truth

“Another day, another drink. You got this, Max.” Tipping his head back, he chugged down a thick, chunky substance. Before he could even wipe his mouth, he rushed over to the kitchen faucet, drinking from it until he couldn’t breathe. Wiping his mouth, he could still feel the drink trickling down his throat.
It had been almost a year since Max began drinking Greene. Greene became the solution to hunger throughout the entire nation. No longer was there any need for actual food, as people could survive solely on Greenes. Greene was a drink that had all the nutrients your body ever needed. It quickly became revolutionary, and as a way to solve the economic problem, the government shut down food production and focused only on Greene.
Staring outside the kitchen window, Max tried to think back to when there was still bread on the table, and when there were cows and chickens in the barn out back. He couldn’t. He sighed. Looking at the clock, he quickly undressed in the kitchen and grabbed a dress shirt and pants that was lying conveniently on the floor. After food was banned and the only thing that existed were Greenes, Max had been given a new job. Everyday he would sit in a cubicle, staring at a screen that made no sense to him. If only he could still be a farmer.
Approaching a tall, grey building, Max violently pushed the door open. He made it. He checked his watch, and saw that he was already ten minutes late. Groaning, he jogged his way to the office. Up ahead, his boss was already waiting for him impatiently, checking his watch every few seconds.
“Look, I know what you’re gonna say, and you know what? I don’t care if I’m late everyday, I hate this job anyway,” Max said.
His boss raised his eyebrow. “I’m not here to lecture you, Mr. Jones,”
Max stood up tall. He stood there studying his boss.
“Then what are you waiting here for?” Max asked.
“I’m here to give you a new job…you could call it a promotion.”
“Promotion?”
“Yes, will you take it?”
Max’s head was spinning. A new job? Higher pay? His grandmother had been sick for the past week, but with more money, she could finally get proper treatment.
“I’m a busy man, Mr. Jones, so I would like an answer now,”
“I-I accept. What do I need to do, sir?”
“You will find out about your job soon enough, Mr. Jones. Please wait in the lobby, my associate will get you.
Max sat in the lobby, stunned. How could he, possibly the worst employee, be promoted? He didn’t know how many hours had passed until a tall, broad man came up to him.
“Mr. Jones?” he asked.
Max nodded. The man jerked his head toward the right.
“Follow.”
Max began to get excited. They entered the elevator and the man pushed the button to go to the basement. Max wanted to say something, but the man intimidated him. He was twice his size, and had a bruise under his right eye. Max didn’t want to know what happened to him. There was a high-pitched ding, and the doors opened, revealing conveyor belts and production lines, full of men and women working quietly.
“What is this?” Max asked.
The man turned toward him, staring with his beady eyes.
“From now on, you will help us in our factory,” he said gravely.
“Doing what?”
“What else? Making Greenes.”
Three weeks passed since Max began producing Greenes. He hated it. Everything about the production he hated. No one talked, no sunlight shone; the only thing you could hear were people coughing violently. It made him sick just looking at the factory. There was nothing but the nasty foul smell of Greene. He still had not gotten use to it.
“LUNCH TIME,” someone announced over the PA.
Automatically, as if robots, everyone stopped and headed over to get their daily dose of Greene. A supervisor also came around, taking attendance as though they were little schoolchildren. Max leaned on the wall, holding his share of Greene. He had dazed out for a couple of minutes, until their supervisor noticed him. Whack! Max felt a sharp pain on his right cheek.
“Wake up. This is your entire lunch, so you better hurry and drink.” his supervisor said.
Max slowly recovered and looked up, staring at his supervisor. He wanted to smash his glass of Greene in his face, to punch him in the stomach several times, to-
“Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up, you only have 5 minute lunches, do you not remember, Jones?”
Just as he was about to take a sip of Greene, Max stopped.
“How about you, sir? Aren’t you going to get one?” he wondered.
“Huh? Me? Uh, well you see I’m full cause I...Wait, look. Hurry and drink that before you get another slap,” Max sighed and chugged the Greene down, only to puke it out moments later.
The next day, Max woke up. Looking out his window, he saw the rain pouring, but the sun still shone bright. It was as though the clouds wanted to hide the sun, but the sun just too bright to hide. He smiled. Getting up, he remembered he had to go to work. Cleaning himself the best he could, he walked over to the kitchen where a fresh Greene was already waiting for him. They were delivered everyday and the delivery guy would make sure your bottle was empty and that you drank it. Max was not in the mood. He looked at the faucet and drank from it for a good minute. Then, he took the Greene into his room. Opening his closet, he took out a shoebox, and threw the shoes aside, filling the box with Greene.
“There we go. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it any sooner. It’s not like anyone would ask me about it either. Not many people like to talk as much as they used to.” Max noted to himself. He went to his bathroom and took a good look in him. His eyes had circles under them, and he had gotten skinnier. Changing his shirt, he went into a coughing fit. It lasted for a good minute. Wiping his mouth with his hand, he saw it was covered in blood. This was the second time he went into a coughing fit this week. Now, it seemed like it was getting more serious.
“Gah, I need to see a doctor. Though if I miss another day, I’m gon’ get fired. It’s not like Ima find another job any time soon either so I really have no choice do I?” he said aloud.
The basement floor of the factory was very cold. Max had dozed off until dinnertime was announced. He had to be the luckiest man ever, he thought. He had dozed off quite alot this month and he was only caught doing it once. He would slip away into the storage area where a tower of crates full of who-knows-what would veil him from anyone. All he knew was that he couldn’t touch the boxes and that it was a good spot to slip away during lunch time. It was also a great spot where he was able to pour all of his Greene down a drain. Getting up, he quickly slipped into the long line that waited for their share of Greene.
The next day, Max woke up coughing. There was blood all over his bed. His condition was getting worse. Nowadays, he would even cough up blood at work, though he would go to the bathroom to clean himself up. He didn’t want any supervisor noticing his condition for fear of being fired. How could this happen? Besides his cough, everything else about him was okay. Except for some weight loss, he was still in perfectly good condition. He sighed. Maybe that’s what being old felt like. Well, it was time to go to work.
Back in the factory, Max opened his eyes slowly and stretched out his legs. He had fallen asleep again. The factory walls were cold and stiff.
“MAXWELL JONES!” echoed loudly through the entire floor. “Where is Mr. Maxwell?”
Oh no, he thought, I’m caught aren’t I? Bracing himself, he appeared out of the boxes and was spotted immediately by his supervisor.
“Mr. Jones, please follow me.”
Max was surprised, his supervisor didn’t sound too mad. Obeying silently, Max followed him into the area where only government officials were allowed. Max was now fully awake, prepared for what was beyond those doors. As the doors opened, a long hallway with several doors on each side appeared before him.
“What the-?”
“Mr. Jones, please do not talk, for we have much to do. Go to the room on your far left.”
Max reluctantly entered the room, and once he stepped inside two men grabbed him and he blanked out. Max woke up gasping. Was he dead? Looking around him, he realized he was sitting in a metal chair.
“I see you’re awake, Maxwell.”
Max turned his head. A man wearing a stethoscope around his neck smiled at him with his pale lips.
“W-Where am I?” Max stuttered.
“That’s not important, Mr Jones. I am Dr. Paul. I’m here to help you. I have heard you have been sleeping on the job and are coughing quite a bit.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
“I have my ways,”
“Has someone been watching me?”
The doctor laughed.
“My my, you still have much to learn,” he said.
Max raised his eyebrow.
“What happened earlier? Did I pass out?” Max demanded.
“Why yes. You passed out from the chloroform you were given.”
“What? Why?”
“Mr. Jones, do I really need to explain?”
“What are you talking about? Are you here to help treat my cough or not?”
“Haha, of course. I’m here to make your pains go away. Forever.”
“What? What’s going on? Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m just doing my job, I need to put you to sleep. It’s not going to hurt much, so don’t worry.”
“What? Why?”
“Cause it’s my job. You see, the Greene that everyone is fed is not food. It’s not even close to food. It’s more like poison. Poison to weaken everyone that drinks it so that they have to get a checkup. Then they die.”
“What, are you crazy? The only thing that people can drink is Greene! With that, the whole population-”
“With that the whole population will die out.” Dr. Paul finished. “With that, the government can save money from a decrease in population. With that, our economic problem will be solved. It’s really genius. But don’t worry, not everyone has been drinking Greene. We’re planning to rebuild this nation from scratch.”
“Y-you monsters.”
“Boo-hoo. Whatever, Mr. Jones. Everyone knows we’re doing this for a good cause. Now it’s time to finish you off.”
Grabbing a needle from a box that sat right next to Max, Dr. Paul smiled.
“Any last words?” he asked.
Max breathed heavily, and clenched his fists.
“You scum.. you realize they will eventually do this to you to?”
“Ha ha, that’s impossible, Mr. Jones, I am one of their most trusted-”
The doctor’s face froze like a statue. Looking at what he had just done, Max gasped. Dropping the used needle from his hand, he took the rest of the needles and looked out the door. He was in a different place from where he was when he first came in.
“Excuse me, sir. Why are you leaving your cell?” Quickly, Max heard someone called for help, and heard footsteps chasing him. Max turned around and his pursuer quickly froze just as fast. Another needle used. Immediately, alarms began to go off. He began to sprint down the hall.
“Alert, everyone this is a Code A alert. There is an escapee running around off-limit grounds. If anyone sees him, please take him down. Dead or alive. This man is a murderer.”
“Shoot.”
Max began to cough. He could hear workers and guards and who knew what else coming after him.
“Where am I?” Quickly, he turned a right and pushed open a metal door.
“What the-”
“Stop right there, Max.”
Max quickly turned around to see someone was standing in his way.
“What? The governor? No way… I can’t believe it’s actually true. No, you psycho, I will kill you if you don’t let me go.” He held up the box of needles.
“I will let you go, as long as you leave this room without touching anything. And of course dropping the box of needles.”
“What? You’re a liar. You just don’t want to die.”
“You already have our secret. I will let you go, I was bound to get caught sooner or later. Just please, leave this room.”
Max noticed he was getting desperate. Slowly, he looked around him. He saw pipes all around the room that connected to the tanks. Tanks that were full of poison stood in the room.
“N-no Max. Please. I beg you. I will spare your life if you leave this room. Now. Please.”
Max coughed. “What do these pipes contain?”
No answer. He didn’t need one. The pipes contained gas. Gas which could quickly react with the surrounding air and go boom. All he needed to do was… but that would mean...

His eyesight was getting blurrier. There was no choice, his health was deteriorating. With all of his strength, he pulled off the pipe, and all he could hear were the governor’s screams and a ringing in his ears as the entire building collapsed.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Old Money, New Money, and Everybody Else

         In The Great Gatsby, I see old money as traditional people, who don't like change- almost like royalty. They think of themselves better than everyone else and those that want to climb up to the top (new money) are mostly viewed as insignificant and of a lesser being. This can be seen through the divide of the East and West Egg. The East Egg is the Old Money, and they think of themselves as high and mighty, though they like to gossip alot. They seem to have a lot more free time as their family has already given them lots of money. However, the West Egg is somewhat different.
         The West Egg or new money, are those that have recently gotten rich. They are most likely seen in East Egg's eyes as competitors that want to take their status. They seem to be a bit more modest, but they too enjoy lots of free time. (As seen by Gatsby's parties) New money people seem to work a bit harder than old money, as they want to raise up their status. This can be seen by Nick being a bond man. However, both the West and East Egg still enjoy quite extravagant lives while everybody else suffers the most.
         If you're not part of the West or the East Egg, then you're probably living in the Valley of Ashes. As it was described in the book, it basically is a dirty and nasty place full of smoke and poor people. Wilson, who was Myrtle's husband, works in a garage, but he doesn't get much business. While everyone else is having fun, those in the Valley of Ashes have to work extra hard to get some money to survive. That place is basically dead. To describe The Great Gatsby in the simplest way,  you're either really rich, pretty rich, or really poor.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Thankful

           I'm thankful for Connor Szeto in my class. He has helped me peer edit my papers every time, and I'm glad he can put up with my writings. We met quite a long time ago - back when I was in 5th or 6th grade, and we share jokes with one another from time to time. I'm glad he's in my class, because he's very intellectual, and provides thoughtful insight on the story we read that I would never have come up with. We have inside jokes that always brings a smile to our face, and he's a really nice guy.
           Back then, Connor and I hung out alot due to church organizations. I'm thankful for knowing him back then, as I wasn't much of a talker but Connor had allowed me to socialize more. Now, he has also helped me through class as well, and I'm thankful he's here.
           I am also thankful for Antonio Arana. We met near the end of 1st quarter and got to know one another more. He too has helped me through class by telling me the homework, and I'm glad he does or else I wouldn't be doing too well. He's quite funny, despite sending me the most random photos. We get along most of the time, and we usually argue with one another in a playful manner. I'm thankful for both Antonio and Connor in my class.

Monday, November 11, 2013

I Celebrate Myself

            Since third grade, I have been a very jealous one. Each time a student scored better than me or got a "Good job" by the teacher, I would try and be better than that person. I always wanted to strive to be the best, but I can't. That's impossible. There's always going to be someone better than you, and you cannot do anything about it. I have to realize that I should be content with who I am, and realize that if I really did work hard, then I should be happy about what I do. But now that I think about it, I should be happy for who I am. I've gotten into a high school of my choice, I have decent grades, and I can do the things I like such as drawing.
            I have accomplished things not many have. I have gotten 9 years of perfect attendance, and it's still going. I have learned things I thought I could never do such as playing the piano or drawing. I even got money for what I've done during my graduation ceremony. I always want an A, but to get a B 1st quarter for AP World is still great, and I need to realize that it is. This is me, and I'm proud of it.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Poe

Edgar Allen Poe led a very sad and interesting life all the way to the end. He made little money for a living, and has experienced many sorrows.
When he was two years old, his mother had died, and she had already separated with his SECOND father. He was then adopted, getting separated by his brother and sisters. His adopted family was very rich, so he was able to get a very good education. However, his dad gave him little money, and soon he was in debt, causing him to drop out of school. Having his THIRD father shun him, he was forced to join the army for money at only 18.
His writing style has a very mysterious and spooky atmosphere to it, possibly inspired by his life. He wrote about things that weren't really popular at the time, and his stories had no actual explanation to things. No one would know what actually happened and why, as there was no possible explanation. Nowadays, it is, of course, very popular, since back then it was just "out of the norm." His writings weren't able to make much money for him, and it was hard to find any publishers that would accept his work.
One interesting fact is that in his final days, he died mysteriously. He had taken the wrong train to Baltimore, and was found at Gunner's Hall, unable to explain what happened to him. After his mysterious death, it gave birth to many myths and legends of what may have actually happened to him.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

What is an American?

        I think an American is someone who is just and righteous in their morals. After all, our constitution is suppose to be more fair and just. By being just, you will know your differences from the rights and wrongs, and act upon your virtues and no selfishness. An American is someone who actually wants a better future and not a better future for themselves but everyone. They have everyone in mind. An American is anyone who is a "citizen" of America, and they can be of any race. There's no need for 1/4 Hispanic, 12% White, etc. As long as you're a citizen of America, you can call yourself an AMERICAN, and not go listing all the other different ethnic groups you are part of.
         There is no absolute take-over of the government. You can be a part of it by voting. By the age of 18, we can all vote for who we think will make a great decision for our future. We don't just have to sit on the sidelines and bite out nails nervously, wondering what the government does, because we have a say in it. I'm not saying Americans are perfect or that they're the best because we aren't. We have poverty, crimes, and other bad things. However, we do have the American Dream. It's not one universal dream, but a dream/goal that each individual has. For example, my parents moved to America for their dream of being able to start a better and easier life. So I believe that as an American, you will also have hope/dreams whether it be big or small.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Modern Puritans

             Back then, Puritans were very strict. Someone could get into a lot of trouble for what some may now view as outrageous. For example, children were not allowed/expected to be children, meaning they couldn't dance,scream, etc. Today, there are some puritan-like people/places.
              There are charter schools in Chicago that are very strict. If you don't have your shirt tucked, or if you don't wear the required shoes to school, you will get a demerit. You get 3 demerits, then you get a detention. Demerits can be given out for the smallest matters, but those are the school rules and only authorities can change them. That's sort of how the Puritans were as they picked out every single nib-bit there was about someone and you could be punished for what they picked out.
             Puritans also had rules based off their religion, and were very strict about it. I think this can be applied in some way to the Westboro Church. Puritans say that they do things for their religion, and the Westboro Church also claims that. However, they go very extreme, and are looked down upon many. They are very strict about their rules, and if others break their rules, (one of them being homosexuality) then they will chase you down with their picket signs. These people are like a meaner version of Puritans, but are very strict like them as well. These are some of the people/places that I think are like Puritans.