Why no new posts?

24 Feb

Hey everybody, this is Daniel. Many of you may be wondering what happened to the awe inspiring authors who run this blog. The answer to that statement is this: due to the class ending for which we did this blog, we have ceased to post on this blog. Fortunately for you, my good readers, Matt, Nick and I all have new blogs that you are all free to browse and enjoy to your heart’s content. The links to said blogs are below:

Matt and Nicks: http://seatheworldpositively.wordpress.com/

Daniels: http://wrriteallaboutit.wordpress.com/ (i know it’s spelled wrong, get over it)

 I am sorry to say, but I have no idea if Zach has a blog he is working on. 

So, if your interested, feel free to pop over to our other blogs and enjoy.

And Remember

Keep on Chucklin’



Left for Dead

12 Jun

Now I know that this blog is generally filled with light-hearted posts but as the school year comes to a sudden close, I feel as if a more serious post on my part is a necessity. This short post is going to be about the book, “Night,” by Elie Wiesel, which contains some pretty depressing material. One of the passages from the story that really touched me was towards the end of the book as the author and his father were trekking through the snow. They soon came across a friend of theirs’, Rabbi Eliahu, who told them that he had essentially been left behind by his son, to die alone. Back during the Holocaust, this sort of mentality must have been very common just because death itself was ever present. Basically, the author is saying that the old and the sick were a burden on those that weren’t. Leaving his father behind essentially freed him from this “burden.” This kill-or-be-killed mentality is unfathomable and would definitely be frowned upon in today’s society which is why it affects me the way it does. Leaving behind anyone, especially like this, to leave behind his own father, it brings a tear to my eye, as I think about my own dad and everything he has ever done for me. To leave one’s own father, who they have known and loved for most of their life is completely out of the question. I still cannot get over the fact that this actually and was common. I would never be able to forgive myself nor would I ever forget such a terrible thing.

And I as leave this year behind, I can see the vivid image of Rabbi Eliahu’s son slowly walking on into the distance, leaving his father behind; left for dead.


An Unexpected Pathway

12 Jun

As this school year is coming to a near end, my English Honors class just finished reading Night by Elie Wiesel.  It serves as a firsthand account and perspective to what concentration camps were really like during World War II.  The traumatic experiences of Wiesel were extremely touching to me and really hit home as I was reading the book.

A scene that really fits this was when Elie described of how his whole village was taken out of their own homes by the Nazis and were taken to the concentration camps.  They were taken out of their own homes…  Home is a place of comfort  and where families come home to for love, nourishment, care, and safety.  To have that  stripped away from you is just unimaginable.  What if one day, you were forced to leave your room, your house, everything that you love and bring nothing but clothes and resources?  Mind-boggling huh?  I started to think of how I would feel  if I had my home taken away from me, and I suddenly discovered a correlation between my parents during the Vietnam War and Jews during World War II.

My father, 20 at the time, had to leave his own home in Saigon with his parents and sister.  and left everything.  Gone.  A place where memories were created was abandoned just like that.  In search of freedom from the communist regime, my father’s family had to leave furniture, many pictures, as well as a few pets and went into an extremely cramped boat with many other people with the same situation.  Similarly, Elie’s whole village was stripped of their freedom and had to leave something that served so many purposes for them.

My father and his parents before the Vietnam War

My father and his parents before the Vietnam War

On my mother’s side of the family,  escaping from the communists in their small village was extremely difficult since they were closing in on them.  With their bags packed and everything ready to go, my mother and her seven other siblings were waiting for their parents’ signal to escape at night when the officers were not paying attention.  Suddenly, gunshots were ringing across the humid Vietnamese sky.  Oddly enough, it was actually my grandfather who the communist officers were shooting at.  Weaving through trees and running across the woods, my grandfather barely escaped from the officers and actually still has a scar on the top of his head from a bullet skimming across him.  He finally got back to the small village house and proceeded to take my mother’s family to a boat to evacuate.  But my mother and my uncle refused to leave.  They wanted to stay at their home which they loved.

Like Elie and his village, leaving the village was something hard to do for both of my parents and their families.  They were afraid of where they were going, not wanting to let go of their roots.  They didn’t know anything else outside of Saigon or in Elie’s case, Sighet.  This scene in the book brought back all of these memories of my grandparents and parents telling me stories of the Vietnam War.  I never thought it would be so similar to Night.  I can now understand the struggles and hardships of Jews during World War II, because my parents were once in their same exact shoes…


12 Jun

This post is going to be about a not so cheerful scene from the book Night by Elie Wiesel. This scene from the book really touched me and stood out from all the other moments in the book. This moment was when all of the people in the concentration camps had to get tattoos of numbers on all their arms.

“I became A-7713. From then on, I had no other name.”

This quote was on pg. 42 and was said by Elie. I couldn’y even begin to imagine what it must have felt like to be treated like this. All of the people him the camps were treated just like animals and were no longer even seen as real people. From this point and on throughout the book you can really see just how poorly the prisoners are dealt with. It must have felt horrible to lose your own identity when that was all you virtually had left. No one should of had to go through what they did and that is why this scene really touches me. When i think about how this is based on a real story it makes me so angry at people thinking this was alright back then. I just cant comprehend why people would do this…



Spark of Hate

12 Jun


“Faster! Faster! Move, you lazy good-for-nothings!” the Hungarian police were screaming.

That was when I began to hate them, and my hatred remains our only link today. They were our first oppressors. They were the first faces of hell and death.

(Night; Wiesel, Elie)

I cannot begin to imagine what the life of a Jewish boy my age would be like. I could not imagine being kicked out of my home and thrown on a train to be put in a prison with a bunch of others whose sole crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A boy like me, starved to death and beaten based on the command of a man who is so unwilling to take any blame that he attempts to put an end to an entire group of people. That must be how a boy so young could be able to harbor so much hate against a person. How they could hate the men who hurried them on towards the gates of death of Birkenau and Auschwitz.



30 May

For those of you who love comedy and game shows

The End… But is it Really?

29 May

Ever since we were little, we have been ingrained with the concept of “the end” almost everywhere we go. In stories, movies, and even life, there always has to be an end. “The End.” “The End is near.” “The End justifies the means.” But is the end really an ending, or is it more than that? Does a story really end? Does a person’s life really stop just like that? Well, you’re about to find out!! Time to get a little soul-searchy!

ugly barnacle

To answer the question above, in my own opinion, no, I do not believe that there is ever an end to things. These so called “endings” provoke new ideas and thoughts, which therefore lead me to believe that endings are simply new beginnings. To go more in depth with this subject I will list off a couple examples. For one, in class, we have just finished the classic Animal Farm novel. Basically in this story based on Russian communism, several barnyard animals rise up against their human owner and take the farm for themselves, in order to attain fair and equal treatment. This rule of the negligent and tyrannical leader of the Manor Farm is gradually put to an end and he is forced to give up the farm. This “end” leads to the “beginning” of a new era for these animals who had been oppressed for so long. A rebirth takes place, not an end. Once again towards the end of the story, another instance of this occurs. The pigs, corrupt with power decide to rule the farm almost exactly like the human before did. This “end” to a democratic, “everyone is equal” type of government, leads to the “beginning” of another tyranny lead by the pigs. Although the story is cut short here, the reader knows that the story of Animal Farm is far from over. What isn’t on the pages and what the reader must learn for themselves is only the beginning.


This carries over into my own life, in that my 2012-2013 high school experience is coming to a close. As the day gets closer and closer, I almost begin to dread the day. It’s funny; when I first began high school, all I ever wanted was for it to end. And now that this year is ending, I can’t wait for next year to begin. Reflecting back on my year, I had a great time. Seeing as how it’s almost over, I feel sad, but deep down I know that it is only the beginning of a new year. Next year will be even better than the last. (and so on…) Now with a more optimistic look on life I can see things as: “The Beginning” or “The Beginning is near” or “The Beginning justifies the means.”

Like in Animal Farm, or in everyday life, the end is inevitable. However, it is up to you to determine if that end is truly the end, or a way to start off fresh, to begin anew.

And as I bring this post to a close, I leave you with this:


Or is it?


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