Letter from Mr. Uncommitted by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Letter from Mr. Uncommitted
My fellow Americans,
As my competitors ramp up their campaign rhetoric, I feel it is appropriate for me to do the same. The Democratic, Republican, Libertarian, Socialist, Constitution, Green, Americas Independent, Boston Tea, Prohibition, Reform, Socialism and Liberation, Socialist Workers and Ralph Nader partys candidates have all criticized each others motives, policies, experience, age, medical history, terrorist affiliations, middle names, gender, race, inclusion, exclusion, vocabulary, religious affiliation, cleanliness, chastity, shoe size and blood type. But there is one vice that they all share: Bias.
That
Interview with Mr. Uncommitted by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Interview with Mr. Uncommitted
John Q. Uncommitted was born on a small farm in Lower Manhattan. He has climbed Olympus Mons, flown around the world in a small Private Jet, and eaten an entire box of Cheese-Itz in one sitting. Now, as he runs for President, he sits down to speak with his loyal fans.
Facebook: So, John Q. Uncommitted, how is your campaign coming?
Uncommitted: Well, it's coming.... wait a minute, why am I John Q.?
Facebook: Well, that's what it said on the dossier they gave me...
Uncommitted: My middle name is Qwerty!
Facebook: That's what i said.
Uncommitted: No, it isn't!
Facebook: Anyways, how do you feel about your loss in Michigain?
Uncommitted:
Literature Changes the World by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Literature Changes the World
One person cannot ever see the whole world and understand the values of each world culture on their own. Besides the financial costs involved, there are simply not enough years in a persons life to fully experience the entire world. For the average person, reading about a culture is the closest they will ever come. When someone reads a work of world literature, that person gains a fundamental understanding of that culture. How the author views different situations, the kinds of cultural practices the author deems important, etc. can all contribute to an understanding of the society in which the author lives. A political or business lead
I am from Xbox and Spandex
And streaked agar dishes.
I am from the sand
In front of the dunes.
Warm, wet
It tasted like salt.
I am from Riviera,
Lucerne and Formosa
Whose wet names I find on the maps I love.
Im from escargot
And braces.
From Tallinn and Oviedo.
Im from If you aint got time to do it
Right the first time,
From I love you and te quiero.
Im from John Paul II,
St. Peter
And a whole mass
I know by heart.
Im from Alver and Valpuesta,
Sunsets and the salt air.
From the claws of the Red Bear,
The grandfather he never met.
On the beach is a tree trunk
Standing straight d
Of What They Sought in Stars out Yonder
I weave a tale of hope and greed,
Of judgments, facts, and fallacies,
The yarn I spin is mine to tell,
And its purpose it serves well.
Six brave souls speed off today,
How many will return that way?
What they seek in stars out yonder,
Is known by those who yearn to wander.
The countdown starts, the clock is set,
The hardest parts not over yet,
The primers light, the rocket curls,
The commander thinks hes about to hurl.
Ignition! And the engines roar,
Looks like this birds about to soar,
Liftoff! And all around can hear,
Command in Houston give a cheer.
The flying tower
The Senator's Servant
The servants quarters, the place he dreaded most. Spurius Antonius Sergius, a young Christian slave, entered the bleak, dimly lit room with apprehension. This was the worst place to see any of the other house servants. Here, the Master and his secretaries could not hear the fighting. As he walked slowly into the room he slumped so as not to attract attention to himself. Suddenly, Cyriacus called out look its the great political advisor Spurius!!
Suddenly the room erupted in laughter. What have I done to deserve this? screamed Antonius, frustrated.
Are you trying to tell me th
The grass really was greener, these days. Elliot Redford gazed out past Central Park, eating his lunch on a wooden bench on a hill. The New York skyline was shimmering. The sun was brighter, the air cleaner, the water purer. All thanks to the regime-change 16 years previous.
Sure taxes were higher, and the police had to diffuse a car-bomb in the city every few months, but Elliot had never had to pay for his own prescriptions.
Today, he was a 26-year-old graduate student at Colombia University, but he remembered his tenth year of life vividly, or so he thought. The world had been a dark place then, but one presidential candidate had risen
When the noises finally subsided, Dr. Edmund Eberhart left the safety of his bunker, and stepped into the outside world.
What did I do wrong, he thought.
Crossing around the backside of his house, he looked up at the sky. A thick blanket of clouds covered the world from horizon to horizon; showers could be seen in the distance.
What is it about tragedy and rain? He mused aloud, recalling Normandy and the D-Day beaches. Is it God punishing us for our impudence? Does He even care? he waited at the side of the house, preparing to be smitten. When His wrath never came, Dr. Eberhart shed a tear. He had played God. Th
Letter from Mr. Uncommitted by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Letter from Mr. Uncommitted
My fellow Americans,
As my competitors ramp up their campaign rhetoric, I feel it is appropriate for me to do the same. The Democratic, Republican, Libertarian, Socialist, Constitution, Green, Americas Independent, Boston Tea, Prohibition, Reform, Socialism and Liberation, Socialist Workers and Ralph Nader partys candidates have all criticized each others motives, policies, experience, age, medical history, terrorist affiliations, middle names, gender, race, inclusion, exclusion, vocabulary, religious affiliation, cleanliness, chastity, shoe size and blood type. But there is one vice that they all share: Bias.
That
Interview with Mr. Uncommitted by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Interview with Mr. Uncommitted
John Q. Uncommitted was born on a small farm in Lower Manhattan. He has climbed Olympus Mons, flown around the world in a small Private Jet, and eaten an entire box of Cheese-Itz in one sitting. Now, as he runs for President, he sits down to speak with his loyal fans.
Facebook: So, John Q. Uncommitted, how is your campaign coming?
Uncommitted: Well, it's coming.... wait a minute, why am I John Q.?
Facebook: Well, that's what it said on the dossier they gave me...
Uncommitted: My middle name is Qwerty!
Facebook: That's what i said.
Uncommitted: No, it isn't!
Facebook: Anyways, how do you feel about your loss in Michigain?
Uncommitted:
Literature Changes the World by Astrofreak92, literature
Literature
Literature Changes the World
One person cannot ever see the whole world and understand the values of each world culture on their own. Besides the financial costs involved, there are simply not enough years in a persons life to fully experience the entire world. For the average person, reading about a culture is the closest they will ever come. When someone reads a work of world literature, that person gains a fundamental understanding of that culture. How the author views different situations, the kinds of cultural practices the author deems important, etc. can all contribute to an understanding of the society in which the author lives. A political or business lead
I am from Xbox and Spandex
And streaked agar dishes.
I am from the sand
In front of the dunes.
Warm, wet
It tasted like salt.
I am from Riviera,
Lucerne and Formosa
Whose wet names I find on the maps I love.
Im from escargot
And braces.
From Tallinn and Oviedo.
Im from If you aint got time to do it
Right the first time,
From I love you and te quiero.
Im from John Paul II,
St. Peter
And a whole mass
I know by heart.
Im from Alver and Valpuesta,
Sunsets and the salt air.
From the claws of the Red Bear,
The grandfather he never met.
On the beach is a tree trunk
Standing straight d
Of What They Sought in Stars out Yonder
I weave a tale of hope and greed,
Of judgments, facts, and fallacies,
The yarn I spin is mine to tell,
And its purpose it serves well.
Six brave souls speed off today,
How many will return that way?
What they seek in stars out yonder,
Is known by those who yearn to wander.
The countdown starts, the clock is set,
The hardest parts not over yet,
The primers light, the rocket curls,
The commander thinks hes about to hurl.
Ignition! And the engines roar,
Looks like this birds about to soar,
Liftoff! And all around can hear,
Command in Houston give a cheer.
The flying tower
The Senator's Servant
The servants quarters, the place he dreaded most. Spurius Antonius Sergius, a young Christian slave, entered the bleak, dimly lit room with apprehension. This was the worst place to see any of the other house servants. Here, the Master and his secretaries could not hear the fighting. As he walked slowly into the room he slumped so as not to attract attention to himself. Suddenly, Cyriacus called out look its the great political advisor Spurius!!
Suddenly the room erupted in laughter. What have I done to deserve this? screamed Antonius, frustrated.
Are you trying to tell me th
The grass really was greener, these days. Elliot Redford gazed out past Central Park, eating his lunch on a wooden bench on a hill. The New York skyline was shimmering. The sun was brighter, the air cleaner, the water purer. All thanks to the regime-change 16 years previous.
Sure taxes were higher, and the police had to diffuse a car-bomb in the city every few months, but Elliot had never had to pay for his own prescriptions.
Today, he was a 26-year-old graduate student at Colombia University, but he remembered his tenth year of life vividly, or so he thought. The world had been a dark place then, but one presidential candidate had risen
When the noises finally subsided, Dr. Edmund Eberhart left the safety of his bunker, and stepped into the outside world.
What did I do wrong, he thought.
Crossing around the backside of his house, he looked up at the sky. A thick blanket of clouds covered the world from horizon to horizon; showers could be seen in the distance.
What is it about tragedy and rain? He mused aloud, recalling Normandy and the D-Day beaches. Is it God punishing us for our impudence? Does He even care? he waited at the side of the house, preparing to be smitten. When His wrath never came, Dr. Eberhart shed a tear. He had played God. Th
*********************
The night is dark,
But thats all right,
Because behind that tree,
The moon is bright.
Stars still twinkle,
Behind those clouds,
And all sound is muffled,
So nothing is loud.
But inside my head,
A symphony plays,
And nothing can stop it,
Not even the darkest of days.
Everything is peaceful,
Including the tumble,
Of the far distant storm,
And its thunders rumble.
Soon the day will break,
And the sun will rise,
Giving the world yellow rays,
Like a shared treasured prize.
But for some unknown reason,
This storm is quite bold,
And as it breaks with the sun,
It gives the world raining gold.
Scarlett's Story: Part 1 by Angel-of-Wind, literature
Literature
Scarlett's Story: Part 1
My name, is Scarlett.
Apparently, I'm a child of the dead.
I never knew it though, not till a few months ago, when I turned 16.
I feel so, stupid because, it was so obvious!
Let me explain.
17 years ago, my mom moved to Transylvania, to study the semi-ruined castle of the
infamous Count Dracula. Of course, that's not his real name. Count Vlad Dracul, as it seems, was a real person. Is, sorry, he is a real person. Sorry, it's just, I'm still getting used to the idea.Well, she wen
The girl clutched her mothers hand tightly. In the orange dusk, they saw the great black ships leave the harbor; bearing south towards the island the mother and daughter had once called home. The presidents grave words still rang in their ears. The world could end that night, and they both knew it.
But the Earth showed an almost cruel indifference to their fate. The crisp October air swept through the majestic palms, gusts rippling the water in front of the ships. The setting sun danced lightly over the buildings on the western horizon, casting the tall shadows of two short, shaking people onto the water below.
The girl dug her
Current Residence: Are you stalking me or something? Favourite genre of music: Alternative rock, i like practically anything else though Favourite photographer: Clyde Butcher Favourite style of art: Um, what? Operating System: Windows FTW! MP3 player of choice: Sirius Shell of choice: Conch. or do you mean something else? Wallpaper of choice: Astronomy Pictures of the Day Skin of choice: My own, i'm not much for scalping Favourite cartoon character: Zuko Personal Quote: Grammer am for people what can't understand myself.
As you all know, the Russian Federation, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Armenia, Turkmenistan and Kyrgyzstan have now united portions of their military as a rapid response team under the direct authority of Moscow. In Soviet Russia, Past relives You !!
President Obama's $700+ Billion stimulus plan is being reviewed, and may have passed by the time you read this. Do I like it? Not really, but Economics: The Dismal Science is at a loss (Big Surprise there), so I would imagine everyone has a different opinion on that. (A hypothetical cookie to everyone that posts a calm, knowledgeable explanation on their views for or against the plan)
In fa
Hello, I know you're all glad to see me again (waits for applause to subside).
The first thing I know you want is some Geopolitical commentary. Well, the most pressing issue right now is Israel's invasion of Gaza. Both sides are at fault, but Hamas should be removed from power, paving the way for a peaceful establishment of a Palestinian state. (Shouting from audience)
What's that? (Shouting) Oh. You don't give a flying **** about Israel and Gaza. Sucks for you, I didn't even get to the coup in Guinea. (Shouting)
I'll have you know that Guinea is not in Asia. Not it's not in Iraq, but you're getting closer. No it isn't a god damn Canadian