Monday, June 28, 2010

More History

Ok so most everyone has seen the movie Braveheart, i like the movie despite it's historical inaccuracies. There was a war in Scotland against the English and yes, Robert the bruce did play a part, in fact him and his brother also played a role in a rebellion in Ireland. Edward the the Bruce, brother to Robert led an army of around 6000 guys into Ireland to help drive out the Englich. This grand Gaelic alliance wwas to free both Ireland and Scotland and bring the too together as allies. The only problem was that it was an ill planned foray with no thought to supplies. The army , despite huge success in battle ran out of food and had to resort to stealing from the Irish public. To make matter worse after a couple of years a famine broke out and the food supply dwindled even more. the icing on the cake came as the army of Robert the Bruce came to Scotland to help complete the conquest of the gaels. This increased the number of soldiers on the field but only worsened the food supply. after about a year Robert returned to his dear Scotland and the steam of conquest fizzled out and Ireland suffered yet another failed rebellion.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Work is boring

Work's boring, i can only surf the net so much. I'm also having trouble finding stuff to write about. I'm still house sitting and it's ok, neighbor's have stared me down everytime i see them. This includes telling me that they can see my license plate, which i have set up on the dash so people can see it... it's all kinda weird, i feel unwelcome but it's only until saturday after that i don't have to worry. i have had a friend over everynight and i sleep with the house locked. I just don't like living in the city i guess. part of it is probly cause this is pretty much the longest i have stayed in the city at a time. usually it's a day or so, i deffinatly prefer the country, it's open and wide. Call me introverted but i don't like living in such close proximity to othre people.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

house sitting for a friend

This week i have been house sitting for a friend while he and his wife travel to LA. So far it has been a real pleasure and i have gotten a lot of time to think to myself. I have also gotten back to reading my book on Irish poetry which has poems from several of the major leaders of the Nationalist movement. I have been reflecting on how i am currently spending my life. I think i'm on the track to sorting out my llife. I've started to really care about cleaning and trying to look nice no matter what the occaision. i think this is going to be a cornerstone in my life, along with college.

Monday, June 14, 2010

My views on writing

In high school i hated english, i thought that noone wanted to hear what i had to say and to be honest, i never thought i could write anything worth reading. The first two teachers i had for english i really enjoyed. They taught me very wel, but i still never thought i would be a good writer. I wasn't smart enough to pick out all the grammatical errors from sentences. To me this was the biggest part of writing, because i couldn't tell what good sentence structure was i figured i would fail at writing. My next teacher taught me to hate english. Most of the class was focused on reading and giving out our ideas on what we read. I remember that any idea i had about the reading was wrong in her eyes. To her, we students had to conform to what she thought the reading was. I always have problems with changing my views to fit someone elses, so this rubbed me wrong. I remeber a scene from the great gatsby in which the character was riding on a train the reading went on to describe the way the sky was grey and thick. To my teacher this was obviously a description of the dreayness of his life and other symbolism. However if you study history, you will note that during the time period the country ran on coal power, now the emmision of using coal is a heavy grey smoke. I'm not saying that she was wrong and i was right, but that in the words of frued,, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. My next teahcer i loved and still do even though i dropped out of the class. She was really cool and really insightfull about the books we read and i got on with her really well. The problems i had were more outside of class and writing papers. I had extracurricular activties from 6:30 in the morning until 5:30ish in the evening, now add a job from 6:30 PM till 10:30-11 pm and you don't get much time to put in for homework. The papers had to be approved by her before they could be turned in for a grade, i can see how this could be a good thing, however if our ideas clashed on how the writing looked, it ment that the paper would never make it to final draft. after getting an F in the class i decided to drop it. I figured after this i would never be in another English class ever again, this leads me to my first college english class. I arrived at the first day of class nervous and dreading what english had in store from me, i found myself put at ease by my instructor. I decided that semester that i was going to do the absolute best i could and give english another try. This caused me to stay down in the writing center for many a night. I was surprised to find that i received an A on my first paper in college. This made me happy and i continued to do well in the class except for some unfortunate accidents. My next class went right along with my first and i ended with yet another A. As i look back on this i wonder if it was the freedom to choose my subject that allowed me to succeed in the class, or if i really have gotten the hang of writing. One thing is for sure, i have since thought of possibly trying my hand at writing something, possibly a history book maybe.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

little bit of Irish history

Ok, i'm kinda bored at work and in between writing prompts, so i've decided to give everyone who reads this a little bit of Irish history. Lets talk about the divide on Ireland. Most people believe that the division comes because of hatred between the two main religous groups, the Catholics and the Protestants. Although the religions do play a role, they are not the driving force between the groups. The reason that religion came to mark the division was that the English who claimed Ireland were part of the church of England. When England became protestant, Ireland did not follow suit. As England began to use the process of Plantation, the moving of english settlers onto land stolen from the native Irish, they established a division based on socia economics; this ment that the native Irish were held under a foreign power. These foreigners for the most part were Anglicans and scotch presbyterian. As they grew in power, they began to make laws to crush and subjugate the Catholic population. Most of this was done fearing an uprising from the majority Catholic population. Since then, they have been fearful of letting go of power because they believe that under catholic leadership they would be subject to the same laws they put on catholics. When Ireland became a republic, England decided to partition the land in which the majority of Unionist, those who want Ireland to remain a part of England. This went on to further the divide between the groups as the republic felt that all of Ireland should be counted in the decision to become a republic. This created the two political identities of the Unionist and the Nationalists, and it is this reason that there is fighting going on over there.

Monday, June 7, 2010

"Snow or sand? Write a poem or story where snow or sand plays a major part."

Sgt. Lynch, he was the guy you could go to for anything. He was the embodiement of an NCO, he never judged and always understood. I remember him as being a fatherly figure, the one that every man grows up wishing his dad was like. He had a way of looking at a person and figuring out what they needed as far as friendship. he was a chameleon, constantly changing his ways as he met each of his friends, yet he was able to maintain each of his personaes amongst a large group of men. he was everything to everybody. We weren't suprised when we got the call to deploy, most of the others of our division had been called. this was what i had been waiting for, what i had been training for since i stepped moff the greyhound at 30th AG to begin my military life. At first deployment was sorta fun, the excitment of being in a new place with different people. I was ione of those rare indivuals, my drill sargeants called me stupid. I liked talking with people, the thrill of meeting someone from a strange place and learnign their costums, this was what kept me going. It's hard to find someone like me in an infantry unit, i like to say i am one of a kind. patrols were always fun, being in town, talking to the locals and learning more about their beliefs. Kids though, kids were my weakness; everyone reminded me of my neices and nephews at home. i looked into their eyes and saw how happy i could make them with something so simple as giving them a piece of candy. Naturally this has gotten me in trouble many times with my superiors. It was this weakness that got Sgt Lynch killed. we had just hit the halfway point of our patrol when we stopped for a breather, some of us got out and set up a perimeter, me i foolishly walked away ffrom the group. i headed for a somewhat secluded spot to eat my MRE. As i was beginning to eat i heard the sound of children, naturally i turned and watched as the group started coming over to me. i had earned quite a reputation as the candyman in these parts, they soon surrounded me each one begging for some little piece of sweets. i never saw the grenade; it still kills me to think that someone trained the child to give up their life, their future wasted to inflict damage to people who were sent over to bring peace. Sgt Lynch had just begun to walk toward me to tell me about changes to the duty roster. He had a way of seeing everything in a crowd, he didn't over look the grenade. he made it just in time to shove me down. i got up to the horror of dead and dying children, at first i though Sgt lynch was still alive, he was wearing all of his equipment. grenades are a horrific weapon, they shoot out tiny fragments of metal; it was one of these that drove itself through his temple and right into his brain. there was nothing i could do, by the time the medics got there he was gone, lost along with his leadership. they went on to save some of the kids, but nonone could have saved them all. Even as i think about it,, the image of the sand comes back to me, red, clotted with the bloodof innocent children and a good man. it was seeing this surreal imagine that i took it upon myself to contact his family and to hopefully bring to peace the the images that have plagued me.