A shattered mind in a broken body fighting for survival

Saturday, March 26, 2011

A Treatise on Writing

Sometimes I just start writing. I may not have a topic or a reason, I just enjoy the feel of the pen in my hand...oh yes, I still use pens and paper (old school). Typing is convenient when I'm blogging or doing homework (the irony here is that I wrote this treatise by hand, first), but when I want to enjoy writing... when I want to become absorbed by my writing... I pull out my pad of paper. It's something that goes with me most places, just in case I find a sudden burst of inspiration somewhere (trust me, it happens a lot). There is something fulfilling about placing ink on paper. Something fulfilling about being able to craft each individual letter and space. It is so easy to express myself when I can control the exact size, shape, and appearance of my words. Granted, Microsoft Word allows for some limited crafting, but it just doesn't feel the same. I would liken crafting letters, words, and paragraphs to an artist painting. It's true that pictures and music are more universal, but, in my own life, I express my feelings through written words. Crafting is my art. It's one of my passions in life.

Being that writing is one of my passions, I feel the need to encourage you all to write every now and again. It is often easy to believe that you are incapable of writing well. This is a misconception. It is something that is fed to us from elementary school all the way through the end of high school. Our teachers feel the need to make us conform to their ideas of what good writing is. We are told to use more commas, avoid fragments, have a strong thesis, cite our information a certain way, and so on... These are all excellent suggestions... if you desire to write textbooks or scholarly works. But how often did our teachers encourage us to just write? Forget about the topic. Forget about the purpose. How often did they encourage us to put our pens on paper and let the words flow out? English is a language of exceptions. It's meant to be individualized. Language is meant to be enjoyed. It has a utilitarian purpose, yes. But it also has a completely artistic side to it. Whether you're writing poetry, history, narratives, discourses, or just talking to the paper. How many animals know how to write? How many animals can create something like this? It's one of those things that is unique to humans.

If writing like a scholar is not in your future, then why should you be forced to learn how to write like one? Perhaps the old adage, "those who can't do, teach" applies here. Perhaps our English teachers are bitter about not being able to create beauty through words. Pure fallacy, of course. Words are beautiful regardless of who pens them. Use them. Shape them into beautiful images. Express yourself.  Learn that there is just as much beauty in your own writing as there is in a masterpiece painting.

I have no idea what's going on here.

It's about time I told you about the last of my siblings. You've met Bom Bom and Emma Anne (and her husband Superman!). Now, I'd like to introduce you to my brother, Wafflepanzer (No. I refuse to explain that name. Accept it.). The Piebald Penguin is, in fact, the youngest of four siblings. It explains a lot...I know. But enough about me.

My brother and I are often competing with one another. There is a rivalry between us when we play computer games. Frequently, our friendly competitions devolve into pointless shouting matches (I win, naturally). We pick on each other, we harass each other, and we, generally, try to leave the other at a disadvantage.

However, we have a lot of similarities (we are brothers, after all). We both enjoy computer games...not just playing them. We enjoy reading about the latest and greatest games, reminiscing about old games, and, essentially, just about everything that deals with them. They are a major part of both our lives. As such, there are times where we find common ground and get along really well together. I enjoy these times immensely. It's because of this common ground that I have memories of standing around in the wee hours of the morning talking about the newest computer game or the best strategy for an existing game or just things that would make a game great. We are not twins, but I understand Wafflepanzer extremely well. I've always been closer to him that anyone else has. I know what makes him tick. It can be so refreshing to have a conversation with someone like that.

This was probably the best Christmas present...ever. It was a book on etiquette by Emily Post.


~The Piebald Penguin

Friday, March 25, 2011

You know you go to a Christian College When...

The majority of people leave their rooms unlocked. Not only do people leave their rooms unlocked, but we all know that everyone leaves their rooms unlocked. Have you ever walked out your front door without a way to lock it, and though, "I'll be back in just a few minutes, and no one will expect my front door to be open, so it should be fine." But a crucial element in justifying the risk is the ignorance of others. However, if people are not ignorant about your unlocked door, is it still wise to take that risk? No. Of course not. But stealing is wrong, right? So, it must be alright to leave our doors unlocked. Oh, and at Christian Colleges, we have this thing called chapel several times a week. The greater majority of the student body attends chapel on a regular basis. Which means that the dorms are almost completely empty for an hour and a half three times a week. Does it still seem like a good idea to leave our doors unlocked? Of course. Who would steal anything when everyone is at chapel? That's just...wrong. Unfortunately, someone finally took advantage of people's trusting natures. This week, several laptops were stolen from unlocked dorm rooms during chapel. But don't worry. Security is looking into the matter. They sent around an email, and one of the last lines of the email went like this: "Please pray with us for repentance of the suspect and for the Lord to uncover this sin through our investigation." 




Basically, they have no idea who did it, but if that person wants to turn himself in, then security would appreciate it. Also, LOCK YOUR DOOR. (especially if no one is going to be around)

~The Piebald Penguin

EDIT: After holding onto the laptops for three days, the thief turned himself and the computers in.

A haiku for you

















Like sheets of paper
Shamelessly destroyed by me
Life is a vapor.



~The Piebald Penguin

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Consequences Are High

A sweet young couple gets married and moves into a new apartment. This couple goes to work together every day at 9am and gets back at 6pm. You live in this neighborhood. One day, the neighborhood lout approaches you and asks you whether you know when this young, new couple is gone from their apartment. Being that you see this as a friendly conversation, you happily give him the times that you have observed them leaving their apartment and returning to it. The lout thanks you and goes his merry way. The very next day, the lout waits for the couple to leave for work, and then picks the lock on their front door. Overjoyed at his successful intrusion, the lout proceeds to fill his bag full of the couple’s prized belongings. In his haste, the lout slices open his hand picking up one of the couple’s brand-new knives. He gathers his loot and exits the apartment. Later in the day, the couple returns from work. When they enter their apartment, they discover the theft of their prized belongings. The wife sees the puddle of blood in the kitchen and promptly faints. The young husband has a panic attack at the sight of his lovely bride fainting. He runs, screaming like a madman, from his doorway to the street outside. A father, with his son in the front seat, is driving back from a little league game. The father swerves wildly to avoid the madman in the middle of the street. Unfortunately for the father and son, the car careens into a nearby light pole, crushing the front end of the vehicle and shattering the windshield. Glass flies into the face of the boy, cutting his jugular vein. In mere minutes, the young boy’s life is lost. 

My ethics professor told us this story tonight. Awesome.

~The Piebald Penguin

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Tuesday Comes Around Once Every Week


Get Fuzzy - by Darby Conly 15 March 2011


Monday, March 21, 2011

A Local Current Event

It rained in my city yesterday. A lot. Well, ok so compared to some places, the rain wasn't that bad. I think the weather people measured 6 inches of rain. Which is a fair amount of rain. It was certainly enough rain to make some of our streets impassable, knock over giant oak trees, destroy walls, flood libraries, cause mayhem, and make my campus's wonderfully diligent security force scratch their heads in puzzlement. That's right folks. The men, who were expected to pull it together and make sure that the campus did not sustain too much damage from the water, wandered around aimlessly, helping no one and saving nothing. The drains in front of the campus library got stopped up due to leaves clog them. That allowed the water to pool outside the library. We discovered that our walls are not a good barrier against water. The water simply seeped under the walls and soaked the carpets. We called security and asked them for help. They said they didn't know what to do. We asked them, specifically, if they had sandbags, or something to block the flow of water. They were almost positive that they couldn't help us out. So, the library tanked the water like a pro...


...almost...

The brand new carpets are in the process of being dried. The carpet people told us that there wouldn't be any stains. Fingers crossed.

Napoleon: The Little Man Who Couldn't

DISCLAIMER: Please note that the following "history lesson" is meant to be a personal opinion and commentary on historical knowledge. As such, I will not be citing sources. I do understand that historians do a lot of difficult work attempting to sift through the ashes of the past. I would not like to take credit away from these dedicated individuals. For this particular piece, my inspiration, and perhaps some of my more obscure facts, have come from Edith Saunder's The Hundred Days and Jeremy Black's The Battle of Waterloo. If this style of not citing facts in a blog post bothers you, please email me at breadcrumb124@gmail.com and I will be more than happy to provide you with exact citations...or else I'll admit that I'm simply shooting the breeze and was unable to pull the wool over your eyes (that's right. I did just use two cliche idioms in one sentence. I bet you wish you were this awesome.) Also, I will be giving a more in depth approach today, much more so than last Saturday. A large portion of this will be drawn from a paper that I wrote for a class. For readability's sake, I have removed my citations. Again, I do not want anyone to think that these ideas are original to me. If you'd like a list of works cited, email me.


Today, I am going to discuss my reasons that I think Napoleon failed in his bid for world power. 

As dawn broke across the horizon, the incessant rain finally stopped. The men stirred from their sleep and began their morning rituals. They had spent the previous night camped on the rain-soaked fields, and it had been miserable. In addition to the rain, the men had not eaten very much food over the course of the previous day because of their army’s rapid march. They foraged for their food and waited, occasionally glancing nervously across the field. As they watched and waited, the men wondered why they had not yet been attacked by the enemy army on the other side of the field. They had cause to wonder as they did because the general in charge of the opposing army was none other than Napoleon Bonaparte. This great man had marched his armies through almost every nation on the continent of Europe. France had dominated Europe because Napoleon had masterminded the defeats of Austria, Prussia, Spain, and the Russians. It had seemed that this man was truly a god of war. His men revered him; they did not think that it was possible for him to fail them. This godhood had been granted to him by his men because he had given them everything. He had made them a proud people, and one that had become intoxicated on the glory days of an invincible army. Napoleon was greatly feared by his adversaries; they had seen their armies crushed at Jena, Austerlitz, and Borodino, to name just a few. It was not until the majority of the nations of Europe rose up against him that he was finally defeated. Even then, the allied nations, Austria, Prussia, Russia, and Great Britain, chose to avoid direct conflict with the army led personally by Napoleon. This man was a military genius. Thus, the men preparing for battle on the opposite ridge were puzzled about the lethargic behavior that this great man seemed to be showing.
On that day, June 18th 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte would fight once again for the chance to dominate Europe. However, it was not to be. On the fields of Waterloo, the battle was fought that would end Napoleon’s military career forever. This master tactician was not able to overcome the insurmountable odds that day. France’s empire came crashing down with her emperor; Europe was allowed to breathe again after living in a state of war for more than twenty years. The loss at Waterloo came as a shock to the French. Napoleon, the great warrior, had somehow failed to lead his men to victory. Sir Arthur Wellesley, better known as the Duke of Wellington, and Field Marshal Blücher were able to bring Napoleon’s grasping ambition to an end, once and for all. The victors, the British, Prussians, Belgians, Germans, and Dutch, made their fair share of mistakes in the days leading up to the final battle, and came very close to losing the battle. The Anglo-Dutch army under the command of Wellesley was composed of mostly second-rate soldiers from Holland, Belgium, and Germany; even the majority of the British soldiers were lacking in proper training. The Prussian army was not much better off; the large bulk of its soldiers were militiamen who had never seen combat. During the course of the day-long battle, it is said that nearly 10,000 men in Wellesley’s army deserted him. In spite of these problems, Wellesley and Blücher were still able to come away with a victory. The principle reasons behind this were Wellesley’s prior experiences in battle, Napoleon’s illness, and Napoleon’s poor choice of commanders for his army.

Stay tuned next week for the exciting conclusion of this three part series on Napoleon!

~The Piebald Penguin