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Dec 3, 11 at 5:38am ^[Companion Story][M] Deeper
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This is a mini-project to work on while I start draft two of my recently completed novel, Schizophreak. I'm sure many of you are familiar with it. If not, then I would suggest reading Schizophreak, the whole thing, before reading this. This story, Deeper, will be a companion story to Schizophreak, some of the events happening at the same time as Alyx.
This story will be written in point of view of Cameron, a character in Schizophreak. Please read Schizophreak before reading this. Or you can go ahead and read this w/o reading Schizo, it's up to you whether you want to listen to me or not.
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Dec 3, 11 at 5:40am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
Sometimes, things start to spiral out of control. Out of your own control. And there's no way to stop it. Things are always normal, at first, perhaps happy or sad or even neutral—a normal feeling you can properly identify. Then, perhaps something happens to you that brings your world down, brings you down. Death, a break-up, abuse. Something that traumatizes you for the rest of your life and no matter what, you will never forget about it. Those kinds of things bring an endless spiral of darkness into lives.
But in some cases, nothing too traumatizing ever happened. Like me, for instance. I wasn't beat as a kid. I was bullied, but knew how to stand up for myself. I had friends, a couple people I could trust. I had a girlfriend in middle school. My parents loved me, more than they should have because I was an only child.
Once high school hit, things started getting stressful, but I could still control them. Schoolwork, teachers, peer pressure. Smoked my first cigarette when I was fourteen, was hooked ever since. Tried a few drugs, too, that took the stress away, at least for a little while. I could control the drug use, stopped hanging out with those guys, decided to focus on school, instead.
Even though the drugs went away, worse things started coming to me. I couldn't think clearly most of the time, started hearing things that weren't there, shadows in the corners of my eyes. I detached myself from my peers, slacked off in school. I just wanted to be alone, in my room, music blasting through my stereo. I was tired, tired of everything and everybody. I just wanted to sleep for a few days, then wake up and feel refreshed. Took some time off school, but it didn't help.
Every part of me, the real me, was spiraling down in an endless, black hole. I couldn't sleep properly, couldn't eat, couldn't do my school work. Mom tried a therapist, didn't really help because I didn't know what could have caused this.
Things were just beyond my control.
I was only a fourteen year old boy, what could I do about everything spiraling, spinning farther and farther from my grasp? I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to be here, on this earth, either. I didn't see the point in waking up, getting out of bed, getting dressed, because there wasn't really anything I needed to do. I didn't need to eat, didn't need to drink, and didn't need to go to school or learn.
They put me on anti-depressants that made me fat, but happy. I went back to school, joined the fitness club. Worked out, ran the fat off. Started being friends with people again. My best friend, since kindergarten, we bonded again, he was sad that I was sad. For about a year, everything was okay again. Maybe that darkness was just a phase. Part of puberty.
Then, almost two years ago, my father decided he would shoot somebody. Kill them. No one ever told me the true story of why he did it, but he pleaded guilty at his trial three months after the incident and was put in jail for eighteen months. I shut down again. Stopped taking my meds, stopped talking to people. Couldn't function.
Things were out of my control, once again. My world was falling deeper and deeper into that endless black hole. The depression was coming back to me. I heard the strange whispers again, saw the shadows. I wanted to join the darkness, the dark side this world was offering to me. The voices in the shadows beckoned me to open up the imaginary door that led to the black hole. I was invited to the dark side. And I was stupid enough to join the party.
Dec 3, 11 at 6:05am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
Why not pitch your story to publishers...?
Dec 3, 11 at 6:42am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
I've only done the first draft of Schizophreak. I want to at least 3. And plus I'm only 15 so I don't think anyone will take me seriously.
Dec 3, 11 at 7:14am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
quote VenaAt least 3? What?
That's the point of pitching your idea to a publisher, you'll work on the story with an editor or something and eventually publish it when its much better than it was before. Age is irrelevant, there was a senior/junior (not sure) in my high school that published a book. Age might affect royalties or something, but anyway...
Just a suggestion.
Dec 3, 11 at 7:20am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
meh, I'll keep it in mind, I'm getting it proofread by the ex librarian at my school who has published some stuff, so yeah idk. I definitely want to publish it but I'm scared haha
Dec 3, 11 at 7:30am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
quote VenaWell if you're scared of having your work super-criticized, then I guess its understandable.
Good to know you're taking some initiative.
Dec 3, 11 at 8:48pm ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
Well, I have yet to read 'Schziophreak', but if it is anything like this, I really look forward to reading it.
Firstly, I like the way you constantly change from simple, to compound sentences seamlessly within your writing. It really creates, for lack of a better word right now, atmosphere and tension in your words. Such as when you say:
'Then, almost two years ago, my father decided he would shoot somebody. Kill them. No one ever told me the true story of why he did it, but he pleaded guilty at his trial three months after the incident and was put in jail for eighteen months. I shut down again. Stopped taking my meds, stopped talking to people. Couldn't function.' - (Couldn't be bothered quoting it)
I think this best shows it.
I'm also liking some of the descriptions going on in there, such as those last two lines of the chapter. Yeah, some really good writing going on in there.
Now, and this is just at first glance, I did notice a couple of things. I think you could use your vocabulary a bit more at certain points, but thats not much of a problem really. I did notice that your writing could probably benefit from using semi-colons more. But, like I said, this is all at first glance.
Anyway, I'm really liking your writing style overall, and will definately start reading your other story soon.
Dec 4, 11 at 3:34am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
thank you peter!
Thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts.
Do you ever have those nights where you just can't sleep because your stupid brain won't shut up? Yeah, I get that just about every night ever since he went to jail. I had those nights during my unexplained teenage moodiness, too. But ever since he got locked up, it's been getting worse. I've been having nights where I don't sleep at all; I just lay there in my twin bed staring at the ceiling. I've counted sheep, tried drinking hot milk, all kinds of teas, even sleeping pills (over the counter, of course. Can't have poor Mom worrying about me when her husband isn't here to support her). One night I tried running, from two until dawn, but even that didn't exhaust me. It just gave me an adrenaline rush and a heart that wouldn't stop pounding.
Sometimes, those thoughts that wouldn't go away disturbed me. The thoughts were scarier than anything I'd seen before, even in those cheesy horror movies. Images of me, harming myself, were brought into my view. Drugs, skin picking, even the special C word. I had thoughts that made me fear myself. I don't know why they made me afraid to look in the mirror, they just did. I had thoughts of myself doing things I didn't know I could be capable of doing—harming someone, killing someone, killing myself. The visions were vibrant, mostly red and bloody.
Blood. Bloody, red blood. Crimson, scarlet, dripping into the water, staining the white porcelain red…
I was so desperate to get those thoughts out of my head that I tried the C word. One night when I was shaving up my face, since I wasn't sleeping, I accidentally nicked myself on the cheek. The blood slid down my face, and a single drop splashed into the white sink. I was so fascinated that I wanted to do it again, so I tried to purposely cut my face with my shaving razor. Of course, since I was paying so much attention to my face, I didn't end up cutting myself.
So when I was done, I cleaned up the sink and put on my coat, found my car keys and drove to the nearest drug store that was open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I tried to act as innocent as possible—I mean, what kind of guy just walks into a drug store at three in the morning?—as I headed towards the men's aisle. I looked at all the boxes of blades, all the brand names and shaving creams. They weren't straight blades, not what I was looking for. I headed towards the stationary aisle and found an Exacto knife, with three extra blades. I found a foam board, like the kind you'd use for a display at a school science fair, so I wouldn't look too suspicious. The cashier barely acknowledged me.
When I got back home, trying not to wake up Mom, I took the package apart and stuffed the knife and the blades under my mattress. It wasn't until a week later that I caved in and put the knife to good use. Those visions appeared in front of my eyes again, bloody red and had a smiling man in it, a psychopath, perhaps. There were voices, though very faint. They weren't in the vision, they were there with me, in my bedroom. It was as if they were standing beside my bed, stroking my hair like mom did when I was little and had a nightmare. "It's okay, Cameron," she'd say softly. "It was just a bad dream, honey. Go to sleep. You'll be okay."
But these voices weren't as soothing as Mom's. They were harsh whispers, like two girls gossiping and glancing back at the girl they were talking about, then they giggled. I was that girl being gossiped about, except I'm not a girl. Those voices all sounded the same. At first I thought it was only one voice, like my Voice of Reason or something, but then they started talking over each other, at least ten voices at the same time.
That night, they were whispering gibberish, at first, so I didn't really acknowledge them. I, of course, was laying in my bed, the lamp turned on so I could read my Chemistry textbook. Then, all the words and pictures and diagrams turned fuzzy, so fuzzy it was as if I was nearly blind. I tried blinking, shaking my head vigorously, but that didn't work. The words were just a big clump of fuzz.
Then, the whispers started getting louder, too loud for me to block out, but I still couldn't understand them. I closed up my textbook, closed my eyes, put my hands over my ears. It was a wonder that Mom didn't barge into my room to tell me to shut up; the voices were so damn loud!
Then, it hit me—only I could hear these voices. During tests in school, where everyone was quiet, no one else looked up when I did, when I heard those stupid whispers. Not even the teachers, who all had bionic ears for some reason. It freaked me out at first, hearing all those voices, but lately I've been getting used to them. They were a part of me.
Anyways, I eventually took my hands off of my ears and all the noise stopped for a minute. I looked around my room, but nothing had changed. I sat there for a minute, everything totally quiet. Then, one of the voices started whispering in my ear, clear as day. "Why don't you put those blades to good use, you *bleep*ing *bleep*?"
My heart skipped a beat. None of the voices had ever called me something like that before.
"You heard me. It's under your mattress. Pick it up and bleed."
"Leave me alone," I whispered, pulling my knees to my chest.
"Come on, Baby," the same voice taunted. "I'll leave you alone, I promise. I'll let you sleep tonight."
The Exacto knife suddenly appeared in my right hand, the sharp, virgin blade sticking out, beckoning me to use it, hold it over my skin, press down and swipe. I closed my eyes.
"Why are you wimping out? You like the blood. You know you do. Do it. Now."
I didn't even think about it. I was wearing a white wife beater, so I placed the blade on my left shoulder, pressed down and swiped, just like that. I did it four more times, and blood trickled down my arm. I was fascinated by the way the blood, type B positive, trickled down my skin like tears, or raindrops against a window.
When I was five years old, I was left with a babysitter from down the street while my parents went to dinner to celebrate their eighth wedding anniversary. I don't remember too much about that day except the babysitter took me out to her backyard to play with the dogs. But I wandered over to her pond, and swimming in the water was a bunch of weird-looking fish. They were red and white, with tails that looked like ribbons.
"Koi," she told me. "They're from a faraway country called Japan. Aren't they pretty?"
The blood trickling down my arm reminded me of the tails of those koi, flowing prettily as the fish swam. Of course, there were no fish on my arm, but the blood was the same color as the fish tails. I finally felt calm, felt five years old and innocent again. I went into the bathroom to clean myself up, clean off the knife and put peroxide and a large band-aid over my cuts. When I was in the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Stubble was growing back over the lower side of my face, and there were dark circles and bags under my eyes. My hair was messy and getting too long. I looked like a homeless teenager. I brushed my teeth, even though I had done that a few hours earlier. I brushed and brushed until my gums bled. I washed out my mouth, then went back into my room. I placed the knife under my mattress, cleared off my bed, and collapsed, my head falling against my pillow. I slept better than I had ever slept before—over twelve hours. I ended up missing school, but that didn't particularly matter.
I remember the dream I had while I slept. I was there, surrounded by total blackness. I tried running around in the space, but couldn't find an exit. There were no floors, walls, ceilings, doors—nothing. For twelve hours I was trapped in darkness. Until, finally, there was a beam of light coming from somewhere. I ran to it, but the light kept moving farther and farther away from me. I ran as fast as I could, until finally the light stopped moving away from me. It got closer and closer, until I reached it. Under the beam of light was a wooden chair. I stepped onto the wooden chair, and somehow, I wore a noose as my necklace.
Dreams are things you can't control.
I gave in, stepped off the chair. Right as I stepped off it, I woke up in a cold sweat, and the clock read three in the afternoon.
Dec 14, 11 at 9:25am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
YAY! Another thing for my to read by you!
I love it, of course.
Do you have to get these of the internet before you can publish it?
there's always a lighthouse,
there's always a man,
there's always a city
Dec 14, 11 at 12:42pm ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
Jan 17, 12 at 1:47am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
ohai, lol.
When I was six years old, my father and I went on our first-ever fishing trip. Mom wanted the weekend to herself and her girlfriends from the book club, so Dad phoned up on of his buddies who would lend him his cottage for the weekend. So that Saturday morning, I packed a backpack full of clothes, my toothbrush and my Gameboy.
The drive to the cottage was one hour long, and we stopped at a McDonald's drive-thru along the way for breakfast, even though there was a cooler full of food in the trunk. I ate my breakfast, some kind of English muffin with eggs and sausage, then fell asleep in my car seat.
Dad gently shook my shoulder to wake me up when we arrived. My eyes opened and we were parked in front of a cute little house made out of wood. Inside, there were three bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, a living room and a dining room. Dad told me it was so big because his work buddy had a big family. The smallest bedroom had a bunk bed in it, so I decided I would sleep in there, on the top bunk. I could pretend I had an older brother; I'd always wanted one. For the last three years my parents had been promising me a little brother or sister for Christmas. But when I was six, Mom lost the baby and they didn't try again.
I helped Dad put the food in the fridge and freezer, then went to my room to put my stuff in the empty dresser like a good boy. I chilled on my bunk playing Pokemon for a while until Dad asked me if I wanted to go fishing. It was about seven in the morning. I should have still been sleeping if I was at home, but Dad told me later the fish bite more in the morning. I agreed to go, and he handed me a kid's fishing rod he found in a closet.
The morning was cold and a little bit misty. Not much you can expect from living in Washington, though. The lake was a five minute walk away. We found a little canoe, which belonged to whoever owned the cottage. We put life jackets on, and Dad let me climb in the boat first. I begged to help paddle, so he let me hold one of the oars. We paddled for a few minutes, but Dad paddled more because I was so amazed by the scenery.
"Cameron, do you want to take some pictures?" Dad asked, pulling out the disposable Kodak from his backpack.
"Yes, please!" I said, grabbing it. It was a new camera, and it could take twenty-five pictures. I took a picture of Dad rowing, the trees, a little island about a mile away. Eventually, dad stopped paddling and picked up his fishing rod.
"Watch me," he instructed. He pulled put a Styrofoam cup of worms that was sitting at his feet. I liked worms, particularly picking them up and chasing girls around the playground with them to freak them out. He stabbed the worm with the point of the hook, and tossed the line in the water. I mimicked him. "Now, all we have to do is wait," he said. "We have to be quiet or we'll scare the fish away."
I stayed quiet for five minutes before I felt a small tug at the other end of my line. "Dad!" I whispered.
"Wait a sec—make sure he doesn't swim away!" Dad grinned at me.
I felt another tug. I reeled in the fish, and it appeared before me, its body flapping and flopping. "I got it!" I screamed excitedly. "Look, Dad, look!"
"Whoa! It's a sardine!" Dad put his rod between his knees and whipped out the camera. "Say cheese!"
Later, I let the fish go because it was really small and not big enough to eat. I helped Dad catch a big trout, which we fried up for dinner. While he was working the barbeque that evening, I was wandering around the cabin taking pictures of everything. I took a candid shot of Dad while he was leaning over the deck railing, smoking a cigarette. His icy blue eyes were glazed over, staring at something that wasn't visible in the picture. He looked thoughtful, as if someone had asked him a question that needed to be thought over before answered.
I took another candid of him, when I was hiding in the bushes. He wasn't the type of person who liked having his picture taken. In this picture, he was still holding the cigarette between his fingers, but hadn't flicked the ashes off. His mouth was open as if he was answering a question someone had asked him, one of his eyebrows raised.
When I got those pictures developed, I hadn't really noticed that picture where his mouth was open like he was talking to someone. In fact, I thought it was really funny because I was only six years old. Now, twelve years later, when I'm putting my crap inside cardboard boxes, I've come across an envelope that I haven't seen in forever, buried in a box from deep within my closet.
Cam and Don's fishing trip, 1998, is written on the front of the envelope. I pick it up, take the pictures out and flip through them—twenty five Kodak moments. I look through pictures of the cabin and trees and me with a fish and Dad with the trout and me with the trout, then the picture of him leaning over the railing, then a picture of a chipmunk. Finally, the picture of him talking to nobody in particular.
Twelve years later, I don't laugh at the picture. There's something in his eyes, those icy eyes under thick, stern eyebrows. Anger, annoyance? I turn and look into the mirror that I haven't taken down from the wall yet. I have his face, the facial structure. I have the same eyes, except mine are more grey than blue. I have the same stern eyebrows, same lips. I even have his sarcastic, snarky personality. I've got Mom's hair color and knack at creative writing.
In the mirror, I frown. Now I look exactly like my father. My father, who shot some guy over a poker game and pleaded guilty and only got eighteen months in jail, something I will never understand. I look down at the picture again. His eyes stare straight at me, though unfocused and glazed over. It's like he wants me to know something. Like he knew we would all end up like this one day—him in jail, me diagnosed with a "mental illness," and Mom hysterical about us, on top of a new job. I don't even know why Mom kept these pictures. After he went to jail, she took down most of the pictures of him in the living room, like he died or something.
I shut my eyes, shake my head, like I'm trying to get rid of all those thoughts. Of course, they never will escape me. They'll always be bottled up inside my mind.
I put the envelope back in the box, grab some duct tape and tape it shut. I hear a knock on the front door—must be Mom's brothers, Frank and Paul, ready with the U-Haul. This isn't the first time we've moved, but it's the first time we've moved to a different city. Mom answers the door and starts directing them on how to move everything. I keep packing in my room for the next thirty minutes. I should be out there, helping my uncles move the couches and the tables, but no one has called me to help yet.
My room is filled with cardboard boxes. I stack two boxes of books on top of each other, and carry them out of my room. I maneuver my way down the hall, careful as I go down the stairs, head out the front door and to the U-Haul.
"Hey, kid!" Uncle Frank greets, giving me a punch in the arm. I wince—cuts from three days ago haven't fully healed yet. "Let me help ya with those, kid." He takes the top box and throws it into the truck. I want to kill him for treating my chemistry and anatomy books so poorly, but I just give him a tight smile and push the second box into the truck, which is half-filled with our furniture.
"Hey there, Cameron!" Uncle Paul says to me, carrying one lamp in each hand. "Mind helping us with your mom's bed?" He tosses the lamps into the truck.
"Sure, Uncle Paul," I reply. Frank follows us back into the house and up the stairs into Mom's room. Not much has been cleared out in here, except boxes, because there are none.
I take the mattresses out from the bed frame. Instead of dismantling the frame, my uncles pick it up and flip it so it can fit through the door. They head out for the truck. I flip a mattress over and push it out the door.
* * *
Two hours later, we arrive at our new house in a smaller town called Coldgrove. Sounds like a place in a horror movie, full of fog and crazy residents. The house is smaller than the old one—only one floor, but the window shutters are forest green. There's a sold sign on the front lawn. It looks like it belongs in a movie.
"Isn't it adorable?" Mom coos, clasping her hands together. "A new house! A new town! A new job! It's a fresh start for the both of us, isn't it, Cam?"
"Yeah, it's pretty nice," I agree.
"Why don't you go in and have a look around?" she hands me a key.
I get out of my car—hers is already parked in the driveway. My backseat is filled with more boxes, but I don't pick them up on my way to the front door. I glance around, taking in the other houses in this neighborhood. They are all built the same way, but the bricks and doors are different colors. Typical suburban neighborhood.
Buying this house was a last minute decision for her—she did it on impulse, I guess. Just like getting that new job working for some lawyer. After several weeks of sulking around after dad went to jail and Eddy killed himself, she finally got off her ass and looked in the newspaper and all over the internet for a job, then a new house. Moving didn't really bother me because I didn't have any friends in Tacoma anyways. Kind of distanced myself from the guys I used to hang out with. Started studying chemistry more, reading more books. You do have to have some knowledge of chemistry when you want to be a funeral director.
I put the key in the lock and turn it to the left. I hear a click; I put my hand on the doorknob and step inside our new house. It's empty, of course, and kind of spooky. As I walk through the front hall, my footsteps echo through the whole house. It's only one floor, but there's a basement, I think. I enter a hallway and find a large bedroom—for Mom—and a smaller bedroom, for me. There's one bathroom, a decent kitchen, a large living room, and a couple of little closets. I find the door to the basement and head down.
It's a finished basement, with painted walls and carpeting. There's a door that leads into a laundry room. I head back up the stairs to the first floor, thinking. Pretty decent house. I head back outside to the moving truck, and the cars. For the next few hours, my uncles and I transfer furniture from the U-Haul to the inside of the house. Mom carries boxes and instructs us on where to put everything. While my uncles help out in the living room, I arrange my furniture in my new room.
When everything is in its place, Mom gives her brothers $125 each.
* * *
Several hours later, at night, Mom tells me to go pick up some stuff from a convenience store a couple blocks away. I don't take my car, since the walk could do me some good. The February air is cool, but humid because of all the fog we get in this part of Washington. I don't know what direction the store is in, but I assume it is West, so I turn left when I exit the driveway. It's ten o'clock on a Saturday, so most of the lights in the neighborhood are on inside the houses. The driveways are mostly filled up with vans, so there must be a lot of kids in this neighborhood. I look through front windows and see the glow of televisions.
Streetlamps light my way to the convenience store. It's quiet out here, too quiet. How many people does this town have? Twenty-thousand? It shouldn't be this quiet. There must be teenagers somewhere. There are two high schools, a regular one and a Catholic school. Mom says we'll go to the regular school for my registration on Monday.
Why am I even wondering if there are any teenagers around here? Everything will be the same as it was at my old school—floating through it and ignoring pretty much everybody. Having to ask the teacher if you can work on an assignment alone because no one is reliable enough to be my partner for a project. I'm already set on whizzing through school, excelling in Chemistry and technology and other subjects nobody really enjoys.
I find the store after ten more minutes of walking the street alone. It's in a little plaza with a hair salon and a drug store, both of which are closed. The convenience store, however, is open. I let myself in and the guy behind the counter doesn't look up from his book, even though the bell above the door chimes as it opens.
* * *
"All right, Cameron, here's your schedule," the secretary of Coldgrove High School says Monday morning, handing me a sheet of paper. "I'll escort you to your locker and your first class, Advanced Psychology."
I nod. "Thanks, ma'am."
"Trudy, could you take over for a few minutes, please?" she calls over her shoulder to a woman feeding the fish inside a large fish tank. "Come with me." She stands up and goes around the desk and leads the way out of the main office. We go through the halls filled with graduation pictures from the last twenty years, and a nearly-bare trophy case. We go up a flight of stairs, walk a bit, and she stops in front of a locker with no lock. "This is your locker, Cameron. Have you brought your own lock?"
"Yes, ma'am," I reply. I hand her a scrap piece of paper with my combination written on it. I take off my bookbag and jacket, stuff them in my locker and take out the binders I'll need for the morning, Psychology and French, empty but full of clean lined paper. I shut the locker and follow the secretary to Psychology.
The hallways are filling up with students—the first bell is supposed to ring in five minutes, according to my schedule.
"Good morning, Maara," the secretary says to the teacher inside of the Psychology room.
"Hey there, Irene." The teacher looks up from papers on her desk and smiles at the secretary—Irene. "You have a new student, Cameron Hill transferring from blah blah blah…" Irene rattles on for another minute before she finally shuts up and leaves.
Maara, also known as Ms. Carmona, smiles at me when Irene leaves and hands me a bunch of papers, for my binder, I guess. "Welcome, Cameron. Have you taken Psychology before?"
"Yes, in my old school," I reply.
"Great! We're going to have an independent workday today—writing an essay—so I suppose you can do it with everyone else if you'd like to. We're starting a new unit after today, which is perfect since you're new. You can have a seat over there." She points to a table group, four tables together and one on the end. There's another student already sitting there, a girl with long, chestnut hair that hides her face.
I sit. "Hi, I'm Cameron."
The girl looks up at me with wide eyes and blinks—must have startled her. "Hello. I'm Alyx."
"Cool. I've moved here from Tacoma." Why the fuck am I even doing this, introducing myself to somebody else? I'm just asking for a punch in the face. Stop it, Cameron! Idiot!
"That's interesting, Alyx says, looking down at her desk, then back up at me, but not meeting my eyes. I look into hers—blue-grey, kind of green. Bags underneath, purple shadows like she hasn't had a good sleep in a while. And suddenly, I know what's up with her. The bags under her eyes are not normal—I've seen them before…in my own reflection. She blinks and her eyes shift somewhere else, like someone has called her name.
"And just so you know, I'm a guy," I tell her, smirking, since she was staring at my too-long hair that I've never bothered cutting.
"I, uh, I didn't say I thought you were a girl," she mumbles, looking down at her desk again. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I just don't appreciate people staring at me."
I keep looking at her, even though more students are piling into the room in pairs or in singles. "So your name's Alyx, with a Y?"
"Cool," I say.
She fiddles with her pencil and drops it, then reaches down to the floor to pick it up. I watch as some of the students arriving head towards a spinning bookcase at the back of the room, but they aren't filled with books—a bunch of paper bags. I think I saw Alyx looking at the bookcase when Ms. Carmona was talking to me. I want to ask Alyx what the bags are for, but she's staring at the door.
A girl and a guy arrive at our table—Ashley and Bruce. A bell rings, and another guy sits at the table. Unlike Ashley and Bruce, he doesn't greet Alyx. Must be in a fight.
Another bell rings and they play the national anthem or the pledge of allegiance—whatever, same thing. Then the announcements come on. They finish, and the guy who arrived last at our table starts talking to me—"Hey what's your name my name is Collin are you new here?"
I answer his questions, trying not to be annoyed. He's not like a regular guy—talks too fast and excitedly. ADHD? Perhaps.
Ms. Carmona starts talking and introduces me to the class—thankfully I don't have to stand up and say three things about myself like we had to in middle school. She also talks about the essay we'll write today about schizophrenia—ha!—and since it's independent work, we can listen to music as long as it doesn't disturb anyone else. The students in this class take out paper and their notebooks, some of them fish out their cellphones or MP3s from their bags. Ms. Carmona walks up to me and explains about writing the essay—what I've learned about schizophrenia, has the unit inspired me in some way? How will I keep it in mind for the future?
Back in Tacoma, we just finished up the schizophrenia unit. I tell Ms. Carmona I'll write the essay to the best of my ability. I take out my black binder and a pencil. I see Alyx poking Collin with her pen.
"What?" he asks, in an annoyed tone.
She frowns. "Bipolar, much?"
* * *
My next class is French with Madame LaBlanche. She says, in French, that I can sit with Alyx at the back because it's the only free seat. She gives me about fifty handouts which I stick inside my red binder. I know some French, so I try my best at doing the handouts she assigned for the period. Alyx doesn't talk to me, or do her work. She just stares at the desk.
After French, the whole school has lunch because there are only 800 or so students. Alyx is in a hurry to leave after French, but I have to follow her. I find my way to my locker and take out my jacket and put it on. I don't really need to eat because I've got a couple of cigarettes in the pockets. I wander around the school for ten or so minutes—I find the library and the cafeteria, but Alyx isn't in either parts of the building. The caf has doors that lead outside to the track and the football field, and some bleachers. Sitting near the top is a girl with long, dark hair—Alyx.
"Hey!" I yell. I start walking faster, towards the bottom of the bleachers. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Come here for a minute."
"Just for a minute!" I start walking towards the parking lot where my assigned parking space is. I hear Alyx clumping down the metal bleachers and following after me. In a couple of minutes, we arrive at my two-door, three-colored wonder car. She gets in, wordlessly. I put the key in the ignition, pull out of the lot and start driving, erratically, towards a place I had time to explore yesterday, Sunday.
"Why the hell am I in here?" Alyx asks, her voice trembling.
"I'll explain when we reach our destination."
"Are you crazy or something?"
I wince. I make a sharp left turn and Alyx bangs against the passenger door. "Put your seatbelt on," I mutter. I make another turn and we have reached our destination—a hiking trail. Rather, a the parking lot of said hiking trail. There is only one other car, parked at the other end.
"So?" Alyx says. "Why the fuck am I in your car?"
My grip on the steering wheel gets tighter. I take a deep breath, then turn to face her, my eyes looking straight into hers. "Alyx, I'm going to ask you something and I want you to answer it in all honesty."
She looks uncomfortable. Her eyes jump to the left, avoiding my gaze. I keep looking at her until she looks back at me. "Uh, okay," she says.
Straight to the point, "Do you have a mental illness? Or something wrong with you?"
She stares at me, panic in her eyes. They widen, as round as plates. Her mouth twitches for a few seconds until she finally replies, "Why the f—"
"Just say yes or no."
Alyx looks out of the passenger window. A squirrel runs by, an acorn in its mouth. "Yeah," she finally mutters. "There is something wrong with me, but why do you want to know? You're new to Coldgrove High—you don't know anything about me except my name, so how are you able to judge me so quickly?" She takes a breath—she must be the type to usually answer with a couple of words.
"I'm not judging you, Alice." Alice in Wonderland—drugs, hallucinations, mental illnesses.
"Alyx." I nod. "I'm not judging you. It's just…I can tell if there's something wrong with a person just by looking at them." Her bloodshot eyes, dark circles underneath, few-word answers, looking away when I try to catch her gaze. In French class today, all she did was stare at her desk without doing her work, and the teacher didn't even say a thing.
"Can you, now?" she rolls her eyes.
"I'm not bluffing."
"All right, then. So you can tell what's wrong with me?"
I nod. "Can I tell you what I think?"
She nods.
"I think you're a fellow Phreak, Alyx." A Schizophreak. A crazy, mentally ill, unstable Schizophreak. "Do you know what that is?"
Her eyes are full of panic again; her right hand inches towards the door handle like she's going to run away. Fuck! Fuck, Cameron, keep her in here! What the hell are you doing, stupid freak? "How…the…heck…do…you…know…these…things?" she whispers.
"Don't worry, Alyx. Let me tell you something." I put my hand on her arm, and she doesn't smack it away like I thought she would. She's shaking, shaking so badly. Dear God, what have I done? "I know how you feel, because I'm a Phreak, too. Disorganized schizophrenia." It feels weird just saying that to someone. I was told by some psychiatrist that I shouldn't let my illness define me. But here I am—I'm Cameron and I have disorganized schizophrenia, pleasure to meet you!
Alyx looks straight into my eyes for once without letting hers jump somewhere else. "You can't tell these kinds of things when you have disorganized schizophrenia. What in the world are you talking about?" She's shaking even more, like she thinks talking to me will kill her. Like I'm going to kill her.
"I know a Phreak when I see one, Alyx. Dear God, why are you shaking so much? Here, this'll calm you down." I reach over into the glove box and take out an almost empty box of my cheap cigarettes. I light it up and hand it to her. She looks like the smoking type. She sticks the orange end in her mouth. I reach over to my door and press the button that rolls down the passenger window. She takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales out the window. "You all right now, Alyx?"
"You startled me! Dragging me into your car! Driving like a maniac into an abandoned parking lot! Th-then confronting me, asking me straight up if I'm a Phreak…" she shakes her head and takes another drag, blows it into my face. "I'm sorry. You just scared me."
I light up another cigarette and spend the lunch hour bonding with a fellow Phreak. Haven't met one since my last visit to the hospital when I had an episode and Mom got all freaked out. They sedated me and brought a psychiatrist in when I was all hopped up on drugs. Threw them up afterwards, at home, like those bulimic supermodels.
Alyx and I talk about meds, our Voices—she has over two hundred!—and I learn she has it worse than I do. We drive back to school, the radio on full blast. It turns out we have Art together, too. We laugh at her friend Collin, the weirdo from Psychology. I think I've won Alyx over. For the first time in a while, I think I have a friend.
Jan 20, 12 at 12:13am ^re: [Companion Story][M] Deeper
cum on yall this went up 40 views where r my comments n praze <3 ?
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"I recently found you through my smartphone and I'm hooked. I find the program very interesting as I try to deepen my faith and knowledge of the Catholic Church. I have a lot of friends who converted to Protestant churches. I will continue to learn every day, and hopefully I can share what I've learned with them."
"The tradition of the Apostles has been made manifest throughout the world, and can be found in every Church by those who wish to know the truth."

subset: commoncrawl


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In drive to unionize, fast-food workers walk off job
NEW YORK Fast-food workers at several restaurants in New York walked off the job Thursday, firing the first salvo in what workplace experts say is the biggest effort to unionize fast-food workers ever undertaken in the United States.
The campaign backed by community and civil rights groups, religious leaders and a labor union has engaged 40 full-time organizers in recent months to enlist workers at McDonalds, Wendys, Dominos, Taco Bell and other fast-food restaurants across the city.
Leaders of the effort said that workers were walking off the job to protest what they said were low wages and retaliation against several workers who have backed the unionization campaign. They said it would be the first multi-restaurant strike by fast-food workers in U.S. history, although it was unclear how many workers would walk off the job.
The first walkout took place at 6:30 a.m. at a McDonalds at Madison Avenue and 40th Street, where several dozen striking workers and supporters chanted: Hey, hey, what do you say? We demand fair pay. An organizer of the unionizing campaign said that 14 of the 17 employees scheduled to work the morning shift had gone on strike.
Raymond Lopez, 21, an aspiring actor who has worked at the McDonalds for more than two years, showed up on his day off to protest.
In this job having a union would really be a dream come true, said Lopez, who added that he makes $8.75 an hour.
He said that he, and fellow fast-food workers, were under-compensated.
We dont get paid for what we do, he said. It really is living in poverty.
Over the decades there have been occasional efforts to unionize a fast-food restaurant here or there, but labor experts say there has never before been an effort to unionize dozens of such restaurants. The new campaign aims in part to raise low-end wages and reduce income inequality, and is also an uphill battle to win union recognition.
Ruth Milkman, a sociology professor at the City University of New York, said there had been so few efforts to unionize fast-food workers because it was such a daunting challenge.
These jobs have extremely high turnover, so by the time you get around to organizing folks, theyre not on the job anymore, she said.
Nonetheless, she said the new effort might gain traction because it is taking place in New York, a city with deep union roots where many workers are sympathetic to unions.
Christine C. Quinn, the speaker of the New York City Council who has struggled with various measures intended to improve wages and working conditions in the city, expressed support for fast-food workers.
I support fast food restaurant workers rights to organize and fight for decent wages, Quinn wrote in a Twitter message Thursday.
Jonathan Westin, organizing director at New York Communities for Change, a community group that is playing a central role in the effort, said hundreds of workers had already voiced support for the campaign, called Fast Food Forward.
The fast-food industry employs tens of thousands of workers in New York and pays them poverty wages, Westin said. A lot of them cant afford to get by. A lot have to rely on public assistance, and taxpayers are often footing the bill because these companies are not paying a living wage.
The minimum wage in New York state is $7.25 an hour.
Westin said the campaign was using techniques that differed from those in most unionization drives and was still developing overall strategy. He declined to say whether it would pursue unionization through elections or by getting workers to sign a majority of cards backing a union.
McDonalds issued a statement about the incipient unionization push.
McDonalds values our employees and has consistently remained committed to them, so in turn they can provide quality service to our customers, the company said.
It added that the company had an an open dialogue with our employees and always encouraged them to express any concerns so we can continue to be an even better employer. McDonalds noted that most of its restaurants were owned and operated by franchisees who offer pay and benefits competitive within the industry.
But workers demonstrating outside the McDonalds on Madison Avenue said their employer paid them wages that made it difficult to pay for basics.
We cant pay rent, pay bills, said Hector Henningham, 40, an employee who said he has worked for McDonalds for eight years and made $8 an hour. We need change.
One customer drinking coffee inside the McDonalds said she supported the organizing effort.
If anybody deserves to unionize, its fast-food workers, said the customer, Jocelyn Horner, 35, a graduate student.
Even with a union, it might be hard to obtain wages of $15 an hour, and many employers say they would most likely employ fewer workers if they had to pay that much.MORE IN Wire NewsUNIVERSAL CITY, Calif. Full StoryTroubling as the details of the McLaren Report were, a news item out of Russia earlier this week... Full Story
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"I've been a podcast listener for over two years. It's really been a blessing and helped me grow from a cafeteria Catholic to a real one."
"The civil authority has been, ever from the days of Herod, the enemy of Christ. The question, now pending, is whether the Church shall admit to ministry those only who, according to the dictation of the civil power, are fit for the office."


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A Pearl City man is proving a handicap in golf isn't a reason to give up the game.
Takeo Maruyama has been playing golf since he was 14.
At 80 years old, he scores in the high 90s. But the impressive part of his game is that he plays while legally blind.
"I always put two circular markers on my ball like a cue ball," he said. "Lessens the chance of hitting the wrong ball."
Maruyama started losing his eyesight in elementary school. He was ready to give up golf completely until he was told by his eye doctor about the U.S. Blind Golfers Association.
"It's a double whammy because your eyes are getting worse, but now you can qualify for the Blind Golfers Association," he said.
Maruyama recently returned from playing in the U.S. Blind Golf Association's national championship in Oregon. Although he didn't win the four-day competition, just playing in the tournament is an achievement.
Maruyama can see the ball up close, but he can't see where it goes. He uses a coach to tell him where to hit and how far he is from the green.
"So they have to guide me like, 'How many trees from the right?'" he said.
He is the only blind golfer from Hawaii in the U.S. Blind Golf Association, something he hopes will change.
"I want to encourage them to come out again because this is a new life career for you," he said.
Maruyama hopes to start a blind golf association for children.
He knows he will eventually lose his sight completely, but he said even then, he won't give up golf. "As long as my physical body allows me to."


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Expat's Blog
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Pulled In Many Directions
Party of One
A 20-something woman trying to make her way, currently teaching kindergarten English in China. All about the ups and downs of life abroad.
James Hart in Japan
News and photos from James, Miyako and Kai Hart (currently living in Tokyo, Japan), with other random posts on Japan, IT, sports, music and more.
Ricky Tom from Hawaii writes about his life in Yokohama, Japan. Read about his thoughts on life, love, and looking for happiness in a foreign country.
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Chronicles from a guy who lived in Yeouido for 2 years and worked in the finance/investment banking area.
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Brief encounters, deep meditations. More than you should ever hope for from such a flippant title.
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Snapshots from various places i've visited, currently Singapore, West Malaysia and China( Hong Kong, Shanghai, Guilin, Beijing, ...)
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X-Base Stool
- Summary
The easiest of accent pieces, our stool offers classic style in a compact footprint. The cushioned seating and geometric X-base legs are fully upholstered in your choice of custom fabrics. Use one as a vanity table or beside a sofa, or pair two into an end-of-bed bench.
- 22" sq., 19"H.
- Sturdily constructed of engineered hardwood and reinforced with double dowels and corner blocks.
- Piped cushion has plush foam padding.
- Engineered hardwood legs are fully upholstered.
- Available made to order in all of our custom upholstery fabrics; to place a custom order, please call 888-922-4108 for assistance from one of our furniture specialists.
- Furniture upholstered in mohair will not have welting (piping) or topstitching.
- 6-8 week in-home delivery with White Glove service.
- Handcrafted in the USA by skilled artisans. American and imported materials.
- Dimensions & More Info
- Overall: 22" sq., 19"H
- Seat height: 18.5"
- Seat depth: 19"
- Seat width: 22"
- Distance leg to leg (outside): 22" at front and back; 19" at side
- Weight: 16 lb.
- Shipping
Shipping Information
All custom upholstery items will be shipped directly from the manufacturer and are not eligible for rush shipping. Please allow six to eight weeks for delivery. Item arrives fully assembled and in one piece by our in-home White-Glove Delivery service. For White Glove items, we'll call you in advance to schedule a delivery time, then bring the item into your home, unpack and inspect it, perform simple assembly and dispose of all packaging material. Complete beds will be set up; headboards only will be unpacked, but not attached to existing bed frames.) Delivery is by appointment, Monday – Saturday; our delivery service will call to arrange a day. Available in the 48 contiguous states. Please call 888.922.4108 for additional assistance.
Shipping Rates
With Unlimited Flat Rate Furniture & Freight Delivery, an unlimited number of eligible furniture and select non-furniture items in your order can be delivered for a single flat rate. The exact shipping charges, listed below, are based on our shipping location and will be applied in the Checkout Payment & Review page.
Local $159
Regional $259
National $399
Return Policy
Our products are designed with your comfort and style in mind.
Made to Order and Final Sale Furniture items are non-returnable, and cannot be cancelled once the order is placed.
Monogrammed orders cannot be cancelled or returned.
Final sale items ending in .97 or .99 cannot be returned.
Should your item arrive damaged or with a defect, please contact us at 888.922.4108 within 7 days so that we may arrange for a replacement. Frames and springs are warranted to be free of manufacturing defects for the product's life, subject to the following conditions: warranty applies only to original owner and normal residential use. Defects resulting from negligence, abuse or use in a commercial, hospitality or other non-residential setting are not covered. For warranty service, call 888.922.4108.
All other items (with the exception of those marked as Final Sale) may be returned within 30 days of receipt for a refund of merchandise only. View Full Return Policy.
- Request Swatches
Click here to request a swatch. There is no fee or shipping charge for swatch requests. You can expect to receive your swatches within seven to ten business days.


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Instant Expert!: How to Season a Skillet
Just bought a new skillet? Watch our how-to video to learn how to season it to perfection!
Everyone loves a cast-iron skillet. But everyone also always asks me how do I season it. You need to season it to make it completely non-stick and it's easy, I'm gonna show you how. First, get your oven hot. Pre-heat it to about 400 to 500 degrees. Then you have to wash this thing, wash it in hot soapy water, dry it with a towel, take a little bit of vegetable oil and put it on a paper towel, and rub the inside and rub the outside. Once that's all oiled, you're gonna bake it in the oven empty. That's right, nothing in it. And it's gonna go for about an hour and then you're gonna turn off the oven and leave it in there to cool. Again, for about an hour. When you take it out of the oven always use a pot-holder just to be safe. Now look at it, a beautiful non-stick cast-iron skillet seasoned and ready to go. For more recipes, tips and tricks; go to rachaelraymag.com.


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"Vaccines didn't save us" (a.k.a. "vaccines don't work"): Intellectual dishonesty at its most naked
If there's one thing about the anti-vaccine movement I've learned over the last several years, it's that it's almost completely immune to evidence, science, and reason. No matter how much evidence is arrayed against it, its spokespeople always finds a way to spin, distort, or misrepresent the evidence to combat it and not have to give up the concept that vaccines cause autism. Not that this is any news to readers of this blog, but it bears repeating often. It also bears repeating and emphasizing examples of just the sort of disingenuous and even outright deceptive techniques used by promoters of anti-vaccine pseudoscience to sow fear and doubt about vaccines among parents. These arguments may seem persuasive to those who have little knowledge about science or epidemiology. Sometimes they even seemed somewhat persuasive to me; that is, at least until I actually took the time to look into them.
One example of such a myth is the claim that "vaccines didn't save us," also sometimes going under the claim that "vaccines don't work." The anti-vaccine website Vaccine Liberation has a large set of graphs purporting to show that the death rates of several vaccine-preventable diseases, including whooping cough, diptheria, measles, and polio were falling before the vaccines for each disease were introduced. The the article quotes Andrew Weil:
Posted in: Science and Medicine, VaccinesLeave a Comment (516) →


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An inspiration to hundreds of North Central College students and aspiring educators, Lora Tyson, associate professor of education, died September 1, 2008, after a courageous battle with cancer. It was the very same day that more than 100 family members, friends, colleagues and College alumni gathered for a Cubs game to raise funds to support the Dr. Lora Tyson Curriculum Resource Center in Oesterle Library, which has been renamed in her honor.
The Cubs, teacher education and family were Tyson's passions. And all who knew her were inspired by her devotion to a simple motto, "Nice Matters," which reflected her belief that how one treats people really matters.
"She was a kind, compassionate role model for the next generation of teachers," said close friend Maureen Kincaid, associate professor of education and chair of education. "You were central to her long before the College adopted that theme."
After working as a teacher and earning advanced degrees from the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, Tyson joined the North Central College faculty in 1999. She served as chair of the education department from 2005-2007 and was especially looking forward to returning to her teaching duties, her colleagues said.
The campus community gathered for a memorial service in Koten Chapel in mid-September and listened to readings and remembrances from her colleagues, students and family members. "She was first and foremost a teacher," said President Harold Wilde. "Her life in all its dimensions was witness to the nobility of that role and its responsibilities."
Throughout campus during the fall months, students, faculty and staff wore red bracelets in her honor with the words: "Life Lessons from Lora, Nice Matters." Many helped create a scrapbook with favorite memories.
"We all felt like her children—one of her most remarkable characteristics was that she cared," said former student Samantha Dastice '08. "One lesson I'll always remember is that you can never be too nice."
Tyson is survived by her sons, Ian and Brent; a granddaughter Keirra; her mother Esther Trail; three sisters; six nephews; and two nieces.
Annual Report 2008


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Educating, inspiring, and connecting you on your faith journeyOur Mission
Who is today's saint? What are individual saints known for? Take a journey through the year with all your favorite saints and holy people!
Looking for a quiet moment in your busy day? Minute Meditations offers solutions from diverse spiritual resources.
St. Anthony Messenger is America's best-selling national Catholic family magazine, brought to you by the Friars of St. John the Baptist Province.


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The Flash: The Complete First Season GiveawayEmily M. (UT), Justin F. (PA), Steve B. (CA), Brandon W. (AZ), Van D. (CA), Abel E. (CA), John B. (NH), Frank N. (PA) - still waiting for 2 more!
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Sifteo Sweepstakes!John K. (FL), Matthew L. (PA), Arthur O. (CA)
Tower Heist SweepstakesMargaret A. (NC), Erik J. (NY), Daniel M. (MA), Roy F. (CA), Dean T. (TX), David S. (MN), Elizabeth M. (NY), Mike S. (MI), Kimberley B. (CO), Marie L. (RI), Marie N. (MN)
Game of Thrones GiveawayJoe Y. (CA), David S. (MN), Julie N. (FL), James D. (TX), Mike W. (WI), William C. (MI), Marilyn W, (FL), Kurtis S. (IA).
Futurama Sweepstake-O-RamaSteve B. (CA), Jon S. (MA), Thomas B. (IL), Chanda M. (RI), Brian H. (MI), Nick L. (OH), Dean T. (TX), Dan H. (FL), Jennifer P. (IN), Mike W. (WI), Tom W. (WI), Linda D. (OK), Brian K. (CA), David S. (MN), Kevin A. (MN), Jeff H. (WA), Raymond R. (FL), Mike S. (MI), Derek S. (CA), Sara V. (UT), Denise M. (NY), Deborah W. (KS), Martin R. (CA).
Smell Like a Winner with Old SpiceDamon Miller (TN)
Game Informer's Assassin's Creed Revelations Pre-Order Sweepstakes
Grand Prize: Alexander S. (NJ)1st Runner Up: Joseph S. (CA)
Week 1 Winners! (2nd Runner Up): Scott G. (VT), Steve B. (CA)Week 2 Winners! (2nd Runner Up): Chris F. (PA), Brian D. (RI)Week 3 Winners! (2nd Runner Up): Heather B. (MI), Jim W. (CA)Week 4 Winners! (2nd Runner Up): Chad H (FL), Omar S. (GA)Week 5 Winners! (2nd Runner Up): Bao P. (OR), Mark R. (CA)
Great 2011 Holiday Video Game ShowdownJoseph F. (CA), Emma T. (CA), Laurie B. (IL), and waiting for two more confirmations. Check your emails!
Matt Damon Bundle SweepstakesGrand Prize: Roy F. (CA)1st Runner-up: Beverly M. (VT), Julie C. (PA), Forrest L. (MO), Mike W. (WI), Brian K. (FL), Tammy O. (WF), Sharold F. (MN), Margaret P. (IL), Stephen G. (CA), Eileen P. (IN), Joseph S. (IN), Kathy S. (ID) Suk Y. (NY). Cynthia H. (PA)
Red Faction: Armageddon Sweepstakes:Steven J. (IN)
Want to win a Nintendo DS?Winners coming soon!
The Walking Dead Sweepstakes:Robert P. (TX), Helen K. (OR), Dennis A. (GA)
Despicable Me Giveaway:Steven Z. (NH), Jon M. (GA), Steven M. (MO), Jon S. (MA), Eileen P. (IN), Marybeth S. (NY), Elsie L. (HI), Brian K. (CA), Darryl T. (HI),
NYKO Epic Sweepstakes:Alicia T. (IN)
Halo Reach Soundtrack Giveaway:Ivan T. (MD), Shaun L. (IL), Vaughn J. (GA), Mark R. (CA), Daniel T. (IL), Joe Y. (CA), Dan B. (WI), Nick P. (ND), Elizabeth B. (NY)
Get Him to the Greek Giveaway:Mike R. (MO), Mike M. (PA), Dolores K. (FL), Kimberly L. (FL), John B. (NH), Valerie P. (AK), Mike C. (MI), William H. (TN)
Robin Hood on Blu-Ray:Alex R. (WA), Jon R. (MA), Tracey C. (IL), Suk Y. (NY), Cho N. (NY), Mark W. (WV), John K. (FL), DeWayne B. (IN), Daniel M. (MA), William S. (IN)
Win a See-Through PS3:Jennifer P. (IN)
The Art of Tomb Raider Sweepstakes:Weston W. (CA)
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World Sweepstakes:Grand Prize Winner: Elizabeth M. (NY)Runner Up: Raymond R. (FL)3rd Place: Justin C. (NY)
Ultimate Gamer Gear Sweepstakes:Thomas H. (TX) and Nathan C. (WA)
The Tech Test Survey:William S. (IN)
Dead to Rights: Retribution Sweepstakes:Grand Prize Winner: Michael M. (GA)Runner
Ups: Todd
I. (OR), Dorian M. (IA)
Robert Carter's Panau Island Giveaway:Bob B. (UT), Tom W. (MA), Ryan B. (ME),
L. (CA), Steve
B., (CA), Beverly
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Dragonica Two-a-Day Sweepstakes 1:David S. (MN), Connie K. (WI), David P. (MI), Kerry B. (WV), Josh N. (CO), Andrea D. (MN), Diane A. (NY), Jason W. (MS), Michelle R. (CA), Kim K. (NC), Brian K. (CA), Tamika W. (NJ), Leron P. (CA), Zachary O. (CO), Nathan M. (ID), Jeremy Y. (CA), Christopher M. (VA), Kari C. (GA), Delilah V. (IN), JoAnn L. (LA), Jason S. (TX), Brian S. (IL), Marilyn W. (FL), Justin D. (CA), S.T. (NY).
Music Video Game Survey:Brian & Sherri B. (VA), Angela W. (MD)
Halo Legends Combo Pack Sweepstakes:Patricia
M. (GA), Joshua N. (CO), Brett G. (IN), Jason S. (OH), Christine K.
(IL), Russ R. (CA), Ron S. (VA), Kyle E. (FL), Tom M. (NJ)
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B. (WV), Mike W. (WI), Angela P. (FL), Jordan M. (IN), Lisa O. (NY),
Jim W. (CA), Eileen P. (IN), Richard D. (CA), Daniel M. (MA), Chris B.
Nyko Accessory Extravaganza:Austin B. (MO), Michele H. (OK), Marcus R. (CO), Dan L. (OR)
A Penny Gift Card for Your Thoughts I:Brett H. (CA), John L. (SC), Rafael S. (TX), Evan O. (CA).
Ooohh... Shiny Giveaway:Robert L. (KY)
Quick Survey, Big Prizes:Mike K. (CO) - Scott S. (OH) - Nolan and Kim A. (NE) - Joseph O. (KY) - One more winner selected. Please check your emails.
Funny Public Basterds Sweepstakes:Clint B. (CA) - Linda S. (VA) - Marcelino G. (CA) - Eric H. (NY) - Tom J. (TX) - Tyler J. (GA) - Brandon H. (RI) - Thad K. (WY)
Uncharted2: Fortune Hunter Edition:Click here for Winners Announcement
Happy Monday Sweepstakes:Week 1: Debra M. (TX)Week 2: Cheryl W. (CA)Week 3: Rich R. (IL)
Week 4: Brian K. (FL)
Everyday Give Away (GMG Prepaid Cards):Sahil T.
(GA) - Ricky L. (CA) - Cathy W. (TX) - Andy J. (WI) - Tonie C.
(NV) - Devin N. (VA) - Jeremy Y. (CA) - Brian D. (RI) - Chase
C. (CA) - Nathan M. (ID) - Alana R. (CA) - Joseph T. (NJ) - Ken
R. (NJ) - Margaret S. (NJ) - Jamie J. (CA) - Dietra F. (TX) -
Carl L. (IA) - Charles H. (MO) - Peggy D. (IN) - DeWayne B. (IN)
- Suk Y. (NY) - Lori W. (NC) - Richard B. (NC) - Darla K. (CA)
- Ryan R. (NY) - Lucy K. (CA) - Christopher R. (CA) - Charles K. (FL) - Mike N. (NC) - Richard K. (OH) - Kiel K. (ND)
ExtremeMods Wii Sweepstakes:Jennifer F. (NY)
Fast and Furious DVD Sweepstakes:Angela
B. (CA) - Weston W. (CA) - Greg B. (IL) - Michael H. (FL) - Jon
B. (MN) - Rondu B. (PA) - Cindy T. (FL) - Tanner S. (MI) - Adam
T. (FL) - Toi B. (NC) - Cassandra M. (IN) - Trey J. (MT) -
Karen F. (GA) - Michael I. (IN) - Patricia V. (AZ) - Aurelio F.
(FL) - Aneesh K. (VA) - Ray L. (IL) - Annette T. (IL) - Alex K.
(OH) - Omar E. (CA) - Tony P. (HI) - Richard D. (CA) - Laurie
Honda L337stakes:Cindy P. (OR) - Dave S. (CA) - Burnett S. (IA)
Game Informer (with lots of help from Logitech®) is here to offer you a chance to get the gamer setup of your dreams.
This Ultimate Gamer Gear Sweepstakes includes the following items:
Logitech® Gaming Keyboard G510 (retail value $119.99)
With a GamePanel LCD (a monochrome LCD provides in-game stats, VoIP data, media player information, system performance, and more - without leaving the game), programmable G-keys, customizable backlighting, and integrated USB audio controller, the Logitech® Gaming Keyboard G510 gives you the tools and intelligence you need to win.
Logitech® Wireless Gaming Mouse G700 (retail value $99.99)
The Logitech® Wireless Gaming Mouse G700 keeps you comfortable, in control and deep into your game. Its 13 programmable controls can be used to perform single actions or complex macros with a single click. The mouse's natural curves fit your hand for epic levels of comfort, so you can keep at it for as long as you want. And its full-speed wireless connection gives you gaming-grade performance coupled with wireless freedom.
Logitech® Wireless Gaming Headset G930 (retail value $159.99)
The Logitech® Wireless Gaming Headset G930 lets you level up without being tied down. Gaming-grade wireless gives you a lag-free, interference-resistant connection with a range of up to 40 feet (12 meters) - so nothing stands between you and victory. 7.1 surround sound powered by Dolby® technology delivers a detailed, positional sound field that lets you hear your opponents before they see you.
All together this is a prize pack with a value of $379.97! I know all you PC players out there are just drooling so here's the link you need to enter {sorry, this contest is over!}.
Only one enter per person/email address per day.Good Luck!
This looks so cool
Hubby could sure use these. thanks
Our house- would be in a state of emergency if we win, 3 boyz here & ALL up in the gaming!
count me in
please enter me
riddiculously sweet!
I dont like that the mouse is wireless ,but still everything else looks great .
c'mon Mama, her boyz AND hubby need something to fight about!
would love this one
What a combo....thank you.
how do you know if you win?
Please I'm really nice
need some new stuff
would love this gear


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"Forever autumn" tends a little more towards the "Headstones" direction although the album offers melancholy songs besides the known LOT-power-rock numbers.
"Autumn rain" for example is a great example for superb songwriting and typical LOT riffs. On the other hand "Hold on tight" is dominated by sadness. Still typical trademarks can easily be made out: the unmistakable voice and the one-of-a-king guitars, which characterize the LOT sound. Highlight of the album is "Pagan wish": a pushing riff without lack of harmony determine the song. COOL!
(J. Tschamler)
1 So fell autumn rain
2 Hold on tight
3 Forever autumn
4 Pagan wish
5 Otherwheres
6 The homecoming
7 Come night I reign
8 Demon you
9 Lily Anne
10 To blossom blue


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presented by Cox Media
Coto de Caza Golf and Racquet Club â South Course
Coto de Caza, California
August 17-20, 2004
California natives Lee and Joh shoot 69âs; overcome deficits to claim victory
COTO DE CAZA, Calif. â As the final groups in both the Boys and Girls Divisions wrapped up play during the final round of the Family Toyota/Family Honda Junior presented by Cox Media, two players, James Lee of La Habra, Calif., and Tiffany Joh of San Diego, had already signed their scorecards and laid claim to what were their second and third respective AJGA titles.
Both players, who have committed to attend college at UCLA, overcame substantial deficits to earn victory.
Conducted by the American Junior Golf Association, the Family Toyota/Family Honda Junior presented by Cox Media was held at the South Course at the Coto de Caza Golf and Racquet Club. One-hundred and nineteen junior golfers, including 111 from California, competed in the 54-hole stroke play event.
In the Boys Division, Lee began the day four shots out of the lead. However, after making three birdies in his last five holes, the 17-year-old high school senior-to-be left himself two shots clear of the field, finishing with a tournament total of 8-under-par 208.
âI wasnât sure what was going on with the group in front of me,â Lee said. âBut on the back nine, I found out I was two shots back with four holes to go and knew I had to catch up.â
And catch up he did. The birdie blitz on the final five holes was enough for a two-shot victory over Rory Hie of Lakewood, Calif., who fired a 71 on Friday to finish with a tournament total of 6-under-par 210.
âThis win is really big for me,â Lee said. âI had been struggling earlier in the summer, and after shooting 74 on the first day, I thought I was going to be in trouble. Iâm happy with the way I came back.â
Finishing alone in third place was Erik Flores of Grass Valley, Calif., with a tournament total of 5-under-par 211. Fellow California natives Doug Fortner of Tustin, and Geoff Gonzalez of Diablo, finished in a tie for fourth at even-par 216.
In the Girls Division, a back-nine 33 served as the catalyst for Johâs run at the title. Her final-round 69 left her at 2-under-par 214 for the tournament, good enough for her third AJGA title of the year.
âI really wasnât hitting the ball very well, but I was saving myself with my putting,â Joh said.
Joh, 17, whose other victories came at the Las Vegas Founders Junior Golf Championship and the Lennar Junior at Mission Hills, trailed by three shots going into the final round and made five total birdies along with only two bogies.
âThis victory feels really good,â Joh said. âI had to come back from a high score the first day and that makes this win special.â
Also making a charge on Friday but falling just short of victory was Alameda, Calif., native Ki-Shui Liao. Her tournament total of 1-under-par 215 was good enough for sole possession of second place. Jane Rah of Torrance, Calif., took home third-place honors with a 2-over-par 218 total.
The American Junior Golf Association is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization dedicated to the overall growth and development of young men and women who aspire to earn college golf scholarships through competitive junior golf. The AJGA has a membership of approximately 5,000 junior golfers from 50 states and 30 foreign countries.
Titleist, the AJGAâs National Sponsor, has been the catalyst and driving force behind the Associationâs success since 1989. Rolex Watch USA, a supporter of the AJGA since 1983, became the inaugural AJGA Premier Partner in 2004.
For more information about the Family Toyota/Family Honda Junior presented by Cox Media, please contact AJGA national headquarters at (770) 868-4200.
The Foundation
The Achieving Competitive Excellence (ACE) Grant program provides financial assistance to junior golfers who wish to play in AJGA events. Its goal is to give top-flight golf opportunities to young golfers regardless of financial resources. This program helps to fulfill the AJGA's mission of developing young men and women who aspire to earn college golf scholarships through competitive junior golf.
What is Leadership Links?
Leadership Links is a new program whereby the AJGA is able to further its mission to help develop young men and women by teaching charitable giving skills and service-oriented practices at an early age. This program gives juniors all the tools necessary to donate their time, talent and resources to local charities and the AJGA youth development programs. Please click here to learn more about the program and the different opportunities available.


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Bats hunt at night using their exceptional sight to pick out their prey, generally insects, frogs and small rodents. The size of bat varies with the species, but some bats can have a wingspan of over 2 meters, like the Indonesian giant flying fox! Smaller bat species can be as little as only 2 cm.
The Niah Caves in the Malaysian state of Sarawak, on the tropical island of Borneo, is particularly famous for the sightings of thousands of bats. Oddly enough the enormous quantities of the bat's dung (known as guano), is one of the things that draws so many people towards bats!
Some species of bat are known to fly at extreme heights, sometimes up to 2 miles above the ground! The bats senses are so fine tuned that it is thought that some bats can hear footsteps 6 miles away.
Bats have a slight sixth sense known as echolocation. This means that the bat creates a series of supersonic sounds, which the bat then uses to locate prey by the sounds that are reflected back to them.
Unlike most species of animal, bats are found in any environment around the world excluding the polar regions. Despite what myths you may have heard, only three species of bat feed on animal blood and they all live in the deep jungles of South America, not Transylvania.


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Review: 'Anna Karenina' shines on every level
Tolstoy's masterpiece gets theatrical retelling
If you're going to do a retelling of a novel that's been made into a film at least a dozen times before, you better come up with something different.
Well, director Joe Wright and playwright Tom Stoppard have done just that. Their "Anna Karenina" is a theatrical vision and a brilliant adaptation of Leo Tolstoy's revered book about a woman torn between true love and the mores of society. The movie, starring Keira Knightley as the adulteress aristocrat Anna Arkadyevna Karenina and Jude Law as her dull and pious husband, Count Alexei Karenin, gets a treatment that's original, sumptuous and, well, fresh -- let's say about as fresh as a movie about imperial Russia in 1874 can be.
Wright and Stoppard set this story on a stage in a Russian theater. While it takes a bit of getting used to, the action, at times, appears to be a play in progress, but then scenery shifts, people move and we're outdoors in a true wintry scene. In another scene, Anna is making her escape at the very top of the theater stage on a fly space. It can be dizzying and confusing, but like true theater you must submit to a willing suspension of disbelief.
Knightley is dazzling as Anna, mining the character and creating a leading lady that's rich with emotion. She wears her torment on her sleeve in much of the film, but, to her credit, never comes off as overly dramatic. This is truly the best performance yet from the English actress, and should garner her an Academy Award nomination.
Law doesn't fare as well. His Count, while he's meant to be righteous and a bit bland, never really rises to the occasion, and perhaps its Knightley's performance with all its emotion that makes his performance flat. Tolstoy's Count is also meant to be older than Anna, which also creates some of the strain between them, but Law doesn't seem to explore this in his character enough to have it be a conflict.
As Vronsky, the object of Anna's affection, English actor Aaron Taylor-Johnson's casting was a departure from the way the cavalry soldier is described by Tolstoy -- a "squarely built dark man with short cropped black hair." The filmmakers saw Vronsky differently, painting him as a fair haired, blue-eyed prince with the 21-year-old Johnson in the role. Johnson has been seen in a few films, but may be best known for showing off some amazing acrobatic moves as the lone star in last year's R.E.M. video "UBerlin" (he has dark hair in the video, by the way).
Running linearly to Anna's story is also the heartache of Konstantin Dmitrich Levin (Domhnall Gleeson), who struggles with the notion of true love after his marriage proposal is rejected by Kitty (Alicia Vikander).
Stoppard had a task of condensing 1,000-page book into a movie that's a little over two hours. Wright keeps "Anna Karenina" moving along at a clip and filmgoers will get caught up in the whirlwind. This is an epic film that doesn't rely on a marathon running time to get its point across.
Its lush cinematography by Seamus McGarvey, whose work was so rich in "The Avengers," and beautiful costume design by Jacqueline Durran (Knightley wears the clothes so well) adds yet another layer to the drama.
Tolstoy would no doubt approve of this glorious reimagining of his masterpiece.
Distributed by LAKANA. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.


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Sengoku BASARA: Samurai Kings
Bonds Torn Asunder - Mortifying Retreat for Masamune!
Episode 6 | TV-14
After he rises to defend the honor of the fallen Azai, Date Masamune orders his forces to retreat. However, Sanada is shocked to discover it might already be too late for the warrior to survive.
Official Site: www.funimation.com/shows/sengoku-basara-samurai-kingsHide Details


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TRHS Principal Charles Odom said it's a pretty typical total amount for a graduating class this size from Three Rivers.
"Our kids worked hard and they deserve it," Odom said. "The kids did a wonderful job. We're very proud of them."
Individual total awards were not disclosed from TRHS.
The following are the class of 2013's awards and future plans:
• Luis Alberto Riojas - Valedictorian
Plans: Attend Texas A&M-Kingsville and study chemical engineering
Scholarships: TAMUK Presidential Scholarship, Valero Foundation Scholarship, State Farm Texas Scholars Scholarship, Area Go Texan Scholarship, Bulldog Band Booster, Three Rivers UIL
• Chasity Danielle "Dani" Coquat – Salutatorian
Plans: Attend Howard Payne University
Scholarships: Academy of Freedome Joplier for full tuition, Bulldog Band Booster, Three Rivers UIL
• Tyler Bullard
Plans: Del Mar College
• Jilly Davis
Plans: Coastal Bend College
Scholarships: Coastal Bend College Scholarship
• Allison Dominguez
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Christopher Duenes
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Kalli Escamilla
Plans: Texas A&M University Kingsville: business major
Scholarships: Athletic Booster Club, First National Bank, Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, TAMUK Scholarships
• Amanda Geffert
Plans: United States Navy
• Stephanie Gonzales
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Jimmy Gujardo
Plans: Northwest Vista College
• George Guerra
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Wesley Guzman
Plans: Del Mar College: physical therapy assistant
Scholarships: Bulldog Booster Club
• Kelcee Hillis
Plans: Texas A&M Universtiy-Kingsville
Scholarships: Bulldog Booster Club, Area Go Texan, Bea Furr Memorial, Three Rivers Elementary PTA, Bulldog Band Booster
• Katherine Hinojosa
Plans: Coastal Bend College: medical field
• Charles Johnston
Plans: Sam Houston State University
Scholarships: THSRA Scholarship, Texas Hall of Fame Scholarship, Area Go Texan, Bulldog Booster Club, Clovis Ray Scholarship, Scotty Licona Memorial, Bulldog Pride/Talisman Energy Scholar
• Savannah Lopez
Plans: Coastal Bend College: kinesiology
• Lacey McNeill
Plans: Texas State University
Scholarships: Area Go Texan, Dustin Odom Memorial, Evergreen Lodge Scholarship, Kinsel Ford/FFA Scholarship, Farm Bureau Scholarship, Bulldog Booster Club, Lions Club, Dale and Gloria Johanson Memorial Scholarship, Goodie Box, Three Rivers Elementary PTA
• Aaron Meineke
Plans: Coastal Bend College
Scholarships: Dustin Odom Memorial, Bulldog Booster Club
• Jacob Muniz
Plans: Austin Community College: audio production
Scholarships: Bulldog Band Booster, COST Scholarship, Celebration of Arts and Music
• Kyle Otto
Plans: Ranger Junior College
Scholarships: Sul Ross Scholarship, Ranger College Rodeo Scholarship, District 13 Texas Farm Bureau, Youth in Agriculture Texas Farm Bureau, Texas High School Rodeo Region VIII, Doyle Davis Memorial Rodeo Scholarship Live Oak County, Sid Richardson Foundation Scholarship
• Kimberly Perez
Plans: Del Mar College
• Cheyenne Pullin
Plans: Del Mar College: culinary arts
Scholarships: Texas Dove Hunters Association, Ladies' Auxilary, COST Scholarship
• Tyler Pullin
Plans: Art Institute of San Antonio
• Kayla Ratliff
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Kaitlyn Roberts
Plans: Texas State University
Scholarships: Dustin Odom Memorial, Bulldog Booster Club, Bulldog Pride/Talisman Energy Scholarship, First National Bank
• Haley Rodriguez
Plans: Texas Tech
Scholarships: Area Go Texan, Bulldog Booster Club, Three Rivers Elementary PTA, First United Methodist Church, COST Scholarship, Ardis Copeland Memorial
• Stephanie Rodriguez
Plans: Coastal Bend College
• Briana Ruiz
Plans: Coastal Bend College: medical field
• Matthew Ruiz
Plans: Southwest Texas Junior College
• Angelica Sauceda
Plans: Coastal Bend College: cosmetology
Scholarships: Area Go Texan, Bulldog Pride/Talisman Energy, Little Acorn Study Club, Scotty Licona Memorial, Lions Club, Goodie Box, Houston Rodeo FCCLA Scholarship, COST Scholarship
• Brittany Shipman
Plans: Coastal Bend College: art
Scholarships: Bulldog Booster Club, Bulldog Pride/Talisman Energy, Lions Club, Bea Furr Memorial, COST Scholarship
• Brittany Smith
Plans: Coastal Bend College
Scholarships: Daughters of the American Revolution, Bulldog Pride/Talisman Energy, Bessie Memorial by Finders Keepers
• Anika Williams
Plans: United States Army


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Bulletstorm ReviewBy Jake Gaskill - Posted Feb 22, 2011
With their latest shooter Bulletstorm, People Can Fly and Epic Games have managed to construct a visually rapturous and mechanically flawless first-person shooter that challenges genre conventions and provides an interactive experience that ends up feeling like the most offensive amusement park ride you've ever ridden, and I mean that in the best way possible.
The Pros
- Glorious action on a massive scale
- Constantly twists FPS conventions
- Tons of replayability in Echo and Anarchy
The Cons
- Combo system can get repetitive
- "Intentionally" weak enemy AI calls attention to gaminess
- Over-the-top tone is inconsistent
Bulletstorm Review:
With their latest shooter Bulletstorm, People Can Fly and Epic Games have managed to construct a visually rapturous and mechanically flawless first-person shooter that challenges genre conventions and provides an interactive experience that ends up feeling like the most offensive amusement park ride you've ever ridden, and I mean that in the best way possible.
To be, or not to…HOLY F***! DINOSAUR! RUN! RUN!
All you have to do is look at Bulletstorm to know it's not a game that's much concerned with pushing the art of interactive storytelling to dizzying new heights, but, fortunately, no one is playing this game for the deep narrative, and that helps mitigate issues like extremely convenient coincidences and unnecessary pushes to explain every element of the game world and its characters. For instance, knowing the backstory on the ammo drop pods and electric leash, or knowing everything that's happened on Stygia leading up to the events in the game, adds nothing to the overall experience, but it's mostly used to just fill the gaps in the action anyway, so it's forgivable.
For those that care though, Bulletstorm tells the story of Grayson Hunt, a finely coiffed, drunken space pirate, and a few surviving members of his black ops space outfit Dead Echo, who crash land on the bizarrely abandoned, "tropical paradise gone wrong," planet of Stygia after bringing down the ship of their previous employer, the gutter-mouthed General Serano. Hunt and company's primary objective is to track down Serano and execute him, but in the process, they encounters a saucy, ass-kicking woman named Trishka, who just so happens to have a very important connection to Hunt and his crew, and who happens to want to kill to Serano just as bad as Hunt. How's that for kismet?
Now, a lot has been said about the game's extremely explicit dialogue, and rightfully so. This game is filthy, but it's the kind of filthy that you can't help chuckling at because it's just so damn creative. And while the dialogue fits perfectly with the game's overall, big dudes with big "guns" tone, there's a slight disconnect between Hunt's cutscene story and his gameplay story. One second, Hunt is in a scene, and it's all about redemption and reconciliation and then two seconds later he's using highly offensive (if creative) expletives to joyously joke about his horrific, vile, and vicious activities. It's a bit jarring, and could have been avoided had the game stuck with either being entirely over-the-top, or toned down some of the more absurdist elements.
Shoot to Thrill
With all of that "story" business out of the way, we can now focus on the real star of Bulletstorm: the gameplay. Like most aspects of the game (i.e. presentation, graphics, sound design etc.), the controls are silky smooth, and the amount of variety provided by the weapons (each of which has an alternate fire option, and include everything from a standard pistol to guns that a drill, and/or bombs linked by a chain), the electric leash, and the sliding/kicking is a leaderboard-lover's dream come true, especially since "killing with skill" is the cornerstone of the game's combat.
There are over 130, hilariously titled Skillshots in the game, each one corresponding to a specific execution maneuver. These range from shooting an enemy after you've tossed them into the air with a kick to the kisser, to launching an enemy into the air with an exploding flare, to sparking a fire in an enemy's ass. These shots can them be strung together to create massive combos that earn you points, which you can then use to buy ammo or upgrade your weapons and charge meters.
What's particularly great about the game's design is that it not only challenges standard FPS philosophies by making progression less about how fast/efficiently you kill enemies and more about how stylish you can be in doing so, it also does a great job of constantly changing up the FPS perspective. From the opening sequence where you're walking down the side of a skyscraper, to a level that takes place in a building that's tipped on its side (Gears of War 2 style), to some eye-meltingly spectacular on-rails sequences, to environmental puzzles and climbing sequences, the presentation and perspective are constantly changing, giving the game a great sense of variety beyond the much touted "kill with skill" combat.
Rain on My Bullet Parade
Having said that, the kick-leash-shoot-leash-slide-kick-shoot-repeat combo structure grew progressively less interesting for me as the game went along, especially since the enemy AI has one thought process (run at player), which leads to them just running around erratically waiting to die. It was still satisfying to blast them to pieces, but that's because the controls are so solid. After a while though, I became increasingly aware of the combo system and its requirements, so much so that I found myself enjoying the on-rails sequences and "specialized" sections (i.e. one involving a towering robotic dinosaur called Mechaton that fires freaking laser beams from its eyes) more than the straightforward gunplay.
For some reason, the analogy that came to mind was the Rolling Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil." It's a fantastically constructed song from top to bottom, but once you start to focus on the "woo-woo" that plays constantly throughout the entire song, it takes some effort to unhear it, regardless of how great you think the song is.
Still, the game's pacing is fantastic, so your location and circumstances are changing at a nice clip. In fact, the set pieces in this game are what stood out the most for me. There are some sequences that utterly dwarf you with their scope, and will have you yelling, "Holy sh*t!" like you would on any great rollercoaster ride. The "tropical resort gone wrong" setting is gorgeously realized, and the art direction is just spectacular, and results in a wide variety of locales and vistas that are some of the most gorgeous I have ever seen in a game.
Kill with Skill…and Phil, Bill, and Jill!
Despite Epic's pedigree in the competitive multiplayer arena, Bulletstorm is a different kind of beast, and therefore offers only cooperative multiplayer in the form of the Horde-inspired, Anarchy Mode. Here, instead of simply surviving each wave, you and three of your pals must reach set score limits to progress to the next round. The only way to do this, especially in the later rounds, is to pull off Team Skillshots, (i.e. one player kicks a dude into the air while another shoots him). What's great about these team bonuses is that they truly force players to communicate even more than they would in a standard Horde mode, because every kill matters, and if you don't capitalize on each one, you will fail. But rather than having to start over from round one like a typical horde mode if you fail, here you just restart the current round, making it much more accessible and enjoyable for less hardcore players.
Similar to Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, your enjoyment in Anarchy Mode will depend solely on the attitude of your teammates, so you'll definitely want to play with people who love over communicating and who value victory over personal glory. This might seem a bit counterintuitive considering the game is built on the foundation of amassing the highest scores possible, but that's where Echo Mode comes in.
The 15 Echo Mode levels are just sections cut out of the single-player campaign in which you try to accumulate the most points, pure and simple. Epic used one of these levels for the Bulletstorm demo, and players went absolutely nuts for it, setting scores that even the developers didn't think were possible. While there isn't a traditional competitive, head-to-head multiplayer mode in the game, Echo Mode is where diehard multiplayer fans will likely spend most of their time, and justifiably so. It's a score whore's dream playground.
Bullet Train to Funtown
Bulletstorm is about as close to an M-rated Disney ride of a game as you're likely to ever play. Everything about it is designed to make you cheer and yell and laugh with visceral delight, making it relatively impossible to not have an absolute blast while playing it, regardless of what type of gamer you are. The combo system can lose its novelty after a bit, but there's always a bigger and more insane sequence around the corner to keep things fresh. For fans of sky high thrills and action on a mountainous scale, Bullestorm is an absolutely must play, and is one of the hands-down nuttiest experiences you'll have in a game all year.


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By Gary Mitchell
Those who knew her best invariably described Mary Carol Hartley as a brave, compassionate lady.
Hartley, 62, died at her home Thursday after a 15-year on-and-off bout with cancer.
Hartley's husband, 9th Judicial District Judge Ted Hartley, choked back his emotions late Thursday.
"It's kind of a tough time, but the Good Lord will see us through," he said. "She loved her church, she loved her community, and she loved her children and grandchildren. I'll miss her."
Mary Carol Hartley was Clovis/Curry County Chamber of Commerce president in 1995, said Ernie Kos, executive director of the chamber.
"She was part of the team who hired me," Kos said. "She came to the United Way office and visited with me about coming to work at the chamber. She was already fighting her battle with cancer. She told me she was chamber president simply because she could be. The following year, the chamber recognized her as the Citizen of the Year."
Kos said Hartley made quite a difference in her life.
"I would describe her as a very gracious, generous and brave woman," she said. "She had a huge impact on my life, and I know she touched hundreds of other lives as well. She will be deeply missed."
In 2001, Hartley was named honorary chairwoman for the American Cancer Society's annual Relay For Life.
At that time, Hartley was quoted in a newspaper story that when she talks to other cancer survivors, she talks about the importance of family.
"When you're in a life-or-death situation, family is extremely important," she said. "I had a very strong support system, and it helps a lot."
Hartley's sister-in-law, Lori Hartley, said, "There's just one thing to say about her — she was always a lady. She had a heart of gold and was very compassionate toward other people. When I first came into the family, she welcomed me into the family. She was the most elegant entertainer I've ever known. She was special — a sweetheart to all of us."
The Rev. Steve McElroy, Hartley's pastor at First United Methodist Church, described her as "a person of faith."
"Her faith really did give her strength right up to the end," he said. "She held onto her faith, and her faith gave her strength. She was a lady of class. She stayed true to herself. She was very active in the church, and the church for her was a place to worship and serve. She was one of those people who made you feel good to be around her."
Nancy Taylor, a friend and executive director of Life Saver Food Bank, said Hartley was "a concerned and caring friend who had a love for children and for others who suffered through the same type of cancer issues she dealt with so bravely through the years. She learned to take every day as a blessing."
Hartley's involvement in regional service organizations is a long one, ranging from political interests to her work with a shelter for victims of domestic violence.
"Mary Carol was a strong, compassionate, determined lady," said Chris Walters, friend and Clovis Community College liberal arts division chair. "She faced her battle with cancer head on and never faltered, just as she faced every other challenge in her life… She cared about our community, her friends, and her family, and she made a difference."