Contemplations

 By Christopher Hunt

    

     I was wandering round old Jake’s woods, contemplating my grand future of dragons, dames in distress, and an overall condition of unrealistic bravery, when I stuck my foot straight through a yellow-jackets nest. However unreasonable, it’s a simple process of adrenaline spewing panic: the soft crunch of bee-paper giving way, the first burning sting in my leg, the hum of mirror-wings batting the ever-slipping air, and the sudden realization that, yes, ‘I’m freaking like nobody’s business’. But hey, I was about to be stabbed by a trillion microscopic poisoned teeth, not an exceedingly enjoyable prospect to say the least.  

    

     It’s interesting to note that I had encountered these over-zealous flying bastards no less than five times previously, and, due to this, I actually went through this choreographed process consciously and subconsciously, resulting in something similar to what happens when you listen to a perfectly lovely song playing twice over but separated by a few seconds. No matter how magnificent, how majestic, how virtuoso the original song was, there is absolutely and unequivocally no way in this universe that you could enjoy that mashed up and convoluted monstrosity. Now imagine if you started with something less-nice than a classical masterpiece, if you started with something, if possible, more horrific than our previous repeating (and thankfully imaginary) song. ‘I hope she will sing to me when this is all over.’

     This was where I was: stuck between a mental breakdown and an overly ruddy, throbbing, and engorged state of physicality. I went on a quick journey of thought processes and came to the conclusion that no matter how much I hurt, inside and out, that standing still in the middle of an angry dragons din and screaming my throat dry would not improve my overall state of being. This resulted in a mad scramble of legs and arms while I figured out which set of libs was designed for running. I ended up using a combination of the two and made fair time, considering my choice of locomotion, escaping from the dragons den with the princess miraculously in my arms. And then, just like Kirk in the Enterprise with all his crew, I made contact. Not with a here-to-for undiscovered species of Martian humanoids as I possibly suspected at the time, but with a perfectly lovely specimen of Quercus lobata, or in laymen’s terms, an oak tree.

     This was exactly what I needed: peaceful quiet darkness. A pause from the crashing-conscious-world I had just left. I drifted lazily, wondering how the beast had caught up with us. ‘We were traveling so fast, so far. Why are the lights so bright? Why do I feel like I’m inflated and covered in plastic wrap? Where did she go? What’s this funny thing sticking in my arm? Oh, it’s taped down, that’s strange. Wow! This bed is really soft. That’s nice.’ Out of the clouds the nurse asked me what had happened. I thought on it for a while and decided on the safest answer. “I saved the world!”  

Thankfulness

"What are you thankful for?" My family is hear. Not all of us, assuredly not all of us. That would involve a bit more proximity and a bit more noise than today as we are gathered around the kitchen table. Its set up outside on the huge deck attached to the back of our house. Being built on the second story of a house that seems to be burred deep in the middle of a forest gives the feel that we are not actually surrounded by trailers on three sides, roads on two, and the ever-present yelping of dogs. As i said, my whole family is not present. Its only my parents, my three brothers, a sister-in-law, my grandmother, one of my sisters, and a friend. Only? Yea. When raised living in a seven by ten room with three brothers and in a thousand square foot house with a family of eight, only is especially relative. My sister and her husband are the missing miscreants. After there wedding a few months ago they moved up north were my brother-in-law grew up.

 We cook through the morning, five at a time in a far to small kitchen. I make an emergency Ingles run for the lacking necessaries. Slowly it all comes together: the long cooking turkey making up the frame for the phenomenal picture of scents, the driveway partially emptied for my grandmothers car, and the table brought out and set. Laughing and frantic, we scramble not to burn our various dishes and sides. Finally everything's perfect (as perfect as could be that is) and everyone's seated. We sing our traditional "Aleluya" round and pray. After a short scripture reading we dig in. Its somewhat like a humanized version of what you would expect of starving and mindless cannibals when they run into a group of exceptionally plump Americans, although with less meat-tearing, crunching, blood and grunting. Midway through the feast we take a short siesta of sorts (comparing to the previous actions) and listen to a second reading from the bible. Although it may be convoluted or even possibly covert the following issuance could be compared to Nagasaki and Hiroshima, or maybe the great flood or the big bang. Never-the-less, I survived, with a bloated stomach, a peaceful mind and a happy conscience.

 

Revelations

A personal essay I finished up today. In lieu of a normal blog post on the same topic I wished to use something more refined and possibly more clear than a hastily written and badly put together post. Some thoughts after reading. What could you do to change this and if you don't think any ramifications are needed to our social structure today, then why? What is it in you that so vehemently denies everything I say? Is it that fact and reasoning are not enough to convince you of such a huge problem? Or is it that you simply are afraid to admit that a system you rely on for your security and anonymity is broken and corrupt?

There may not seem hope in this essay but I did not feel it was a part of it. There is a great hope still! For every man woman and child who yet gives there lives over to Christ Jesus and hopes in him. (Painting above-The adoration of the Lamb, Jan Van Eyck, 1425)

                                                                                The Fornication of Nations

“Then one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls came and talked with me,

saying to me, ‘come, I will show you the judgment of the great harlot who sits on many waters, with whom the kings of the earth committed fornication, and the inhabitants of the earth were made drunk with the wine of her fornication. “So he carried me away in the Spirit into the wilderness. And I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast which was full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns. The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet, and adorned with gold and precious stones and pearls, having in her hand a golden cup full of abominations and the filthiness f her fornication. And on her forehead a name was written:

“MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS

AND OF THE ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.”

-Revelation 17:1-5 (NKJV, Tomas Nelson Publishing)

We all define ourselves by things: our physical being, our mental state, our surroundings, our memories, our experiences, our faith. Determining the dominant factor that defines us involves discerning our most valuable possessions: the things we base our life around, our morals around, our souls around. What more precious and intimate a thing than your god, and what more confusing and controversial than your faith?  Religion, having always been the center of state for every great nation, is slowly receding.

 I wish I could say in truth that my faith, my belief in God, defines me. I wish I did not put so much stock in visible and physical things, like every other human being on earth. I wish I could resist temptation perfectly and follow my Father’s laws. I wish that I could be satisfied with the world and live content with God’s promise of perfect grace and salvation - but that would be the flawless world in human eyes with human aims. That reality would not fulfill the goals of my Father.

               

If I were the perfect Christian I would say that my life is defined by my faith. I am far from perfect, and because of that sobering fact , I confess I dwell much more on my physical and selfish state. I define myself, sorrowfully now, with my physicality, my manhood, and my passion. As a man, I associate by instinct with masculine emotions, activities, and thoughts. Every day I spend dwelling on normal human actions. I give the mundane significance by giving it thought. I hand my life over to tying my shoes, brushing my teeth, driving my car, eating food, and doing school work in a defined masculine way.  These things I base my identity on, these things I knowingly and unknowingly obsess with. This is so often the case in the world today, that habitually there is little perceptible difference between professed Christians and non-Christians. Regretfully, this fact is so hidden that many professed Christians base their identity so much so on physical things that they become idols to them, their own personal gods. Thus the Christian community blindly flows toward a self-centered, self-obsessed culture where God is conveniently placed in a comfortable nook somewhere safe and far away.

               

This is the state of religion today, watered down and weak, something only used in great need. The God that created the heavens and earth that in all his majesty holds the universe together and the atoms spinning, some now consider a little pocket thing to be trifled with and used only when convenient. C.S. Lewis, the contemporary author and Christian philosopher, warned, “There must be no pretense that you can have [Christianity] with the Supernatural left out. So far as I can see Christianity is precisely the one religion from which the miraculous cannot be separated. You must frankly argue for supernaturalism from the very outset.” (Lewis, "Christian Apologetics", 1945). The Americanized church is perfectly and frighteningly not described by Lewis. It is so much easier to believe in the physical than the spiritual and as a whole the physical has been embraced. We break further away from Biblical Christianity.

               

Religion has been a center of government for many, many years. The Greeks, the Romans, the Caliphates, the English, the Spaniards, and the Americans all held a religion as standard, all great,prosperous nations. Barbarism spread like a virus and crept over the great Roman empire, previously weakened by insane and corrupt emperors, and the dark ages ensued.  The Spaniards, who held so strongly to Catholicism, wandered along a precarious path with rulers far from any faith that eventually led to their empire’s fall. The United States of America now stands in a remarkably similar situation to these nations of history. Taking the same steps that led toward their eventual fall. George Santayana famously stated "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." (Santayana, The Life of Reason, Volume 1, 1905). We forget ourselves in ourselves: obsessing with the mundane, and reveling in proximate opulence. Thus we forget history and are destined to ever repeat it. When we say goodbye to religion in this nation, we will be embracing the inevitable next stage of brokenness.

It is so enticing to be your own god: with no master over you and bound by no man. We try and throw of any and all perceived shackles, including religion. This drives us into our own destruction. We follow the pattern of history and watch unknowingly as it repeats itself over and over again, not caring for the next generation or the next after it. We jump around in our own little worlds, our own little now's of wants and passions, and lead this country to ruin. Will this ever change while we sit and do nothing?

 “After these things I saw another angel coming down from heaven, having great authority and the earth was illuminated with his glory. And he cried mightily with a loud voice, saying, ‘Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and has become a dwelling place of demons, a prison for every unclean and hated bird! For all the nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath of her fornication, the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her, and the merchants of the earth have become rich through the abundance of her luxury’.”-Revelations 18:1-3 (NKJV, Tomas Nelson Publishing)

The Gears of Enterprise

Sherman Alexie states that “human bodies are invaded and colonized by foreign bodies”-Alexie, What Sacagawea Means to Me, (pg. 115, Arlington Reader). Using his own race and background as well as a familiar anecdote, Alexie relates a menacing story of old to our culture today. He brings to light a reality that has always been true and gives it a little more solidity and authenticity so that we may understand the truth through our own eyes. We are all part of the process, the ingestion of the multitudes. The great machine of enterprise that chews you up, strips you down, and taking only what it wants leaves you merely with your soul. There are few exempt from this process, and as such, Alexei addresses his essay with the world as the recipient, we all can relate, we all can sympathize.  This is an extremely effective approach to writing. Start with some basic emotion or experience, gain your readers empathy, and then introduce your radical idea.   

We all define ourselves by things: our physical being, our mental state, our surroundings, our memories, our experiences, our faith. Determining the dominant factor that defines us evolves discerning our most valuable and precious possessions; the things you base your life around, your morals around, your soul around.

I wish that I could say in truth that my faith, my belief in God the father, was my most defining aspect. I wish that I, like every other human being on earth, did not put so much stock in visible and physical things. I wish that I could resist temptation perfectly and follow my father’s laws flawlessly. I wish that I could be satisfied with the world and live content with God’s promise of perfect grace and salvation. That would be the perfect world in human eyes with human goals. That is not reality, that would not fulfill the goals of my Father.

If I were the perfect Christian I would say that my life is defined by my faith. I am far, far, from perfect, and because of that sobering fact I must confess that I dwell much more on my physical and selfish state. I define myself sorrowfully now with my physicality, my manhood, and my passion. These things I base my identity on, these things I knowingly and unknowingly obsess with. Today, there is such little perceptible difference between professed Christians and non-Christians. 

A Beautiful Dance

I write in a duel response to my previous posts (where I addressed my views on Abortion as well as a few topics concerning gender and cross gender studies), and to an assigned reading for my English class about Sojourner Truth.

Women's rights have been an issue in this country since before the Declaration of Independence was written. We have come a long way from the darker days of slavery and the oppression of woman. Because of the cumulative actions of many outspoken people we now live in a nation without blatant, legal, slavery that possesses equal rights for the vast majority of all races and genders. Women now have their rightful standing in society with an even footing and a solid platform to assert their strong opinions and be heard around the world.

Sojourner Truth was traveling the country, speaking out against slavery and woman rights; both with equal vigor and validity. The country was on the eve of civil war and people with "different" pigmented skin were being treated worse than crap stuck to the bottom of ones shoe; you give some consideration and thought to the offal while scraping it off. Woman were treated similarly, albeit in a slightly more civil and humane way. With no rights to speak of and nothing to stop a man beating his wife, a woman could not under law give vent to her bound up thoughts and ideas and was unable to contribute her full tempered persona to society.

There is a reason that humans come in two sexes. With man and woman there is formed a beautiful balance, a dance per-say, with both genders contributing equally and diversely. In this dance both the man and women have assorted roles dependent on mental and physical build. Nether role is intrinsically attributed with superior value and neither role is more dominating. We have come closer to this ideal since the time of Sojourner Truth. We now must decide to either continue this fantastic dance that is necessary for a moral based society, or drift away without genders, without the distinguishing foundation of man and woman.   

The Hole Were Headed Toward

Until recently, humans have always been categorized as being male and female, man and woman, masculine and feminine. This distinction is present in all mammals and most macroscopic creatures. The reason for this (other than creation, natural selection, or whatever faith or science one associate's with) is quite simple: its the only way to survive.

In our lively class discussion earlier this week we talked about a verity of topics all based around a personal essay about a gender change. Breaking down many questions including: Why do we put so much stock on our gender? What stereotypes affected the formation of your identity? Why are there still relativity defined lines between genders in some parts of society?

During the whole time in class, there was an overall aura of negativity  towards the lack of non-existent lines in the U.S. We classified today's perceived differences between sex and gender and reasoned that only because of wrongly appointed stereotypes and social expectancy's do we not currently live in a better free world. Never once did we hit upon the underlying principle that is fully necessary for a functional society and that would be lacking in the gender-undefined utopia that we described. The family is the foundation for a successful country and government.

Once sex has no bearing and the gender free-for-all commences, what will hold together the very bonds our social structure? When family is only a restrictive and evil idea of past times and the term marriage is so loose there is nothing to define it or defend it. When basic morals fail to be passed down from self-centered parents to selfish children and humans turn savage without the decency to know what they are doing is evil. What will we do then? We gained our ultimate goal of complete freedom without any government or mediator but at what cost. We do away with gender lines and decided that the huge differences between a man and a woman aren't actually that big. Next were convinced of it and we have humans trying to become apes, grafting fur onto there skin and walking on all fours.   

More Thoughts

I would have written a short response to Olga Kibalova in comment form but after thinking for a bit I thought it deserved more of my attention.  Olga, I speak directly to you. In my previous post I thought I made it clear at what I was getting at. I am sorry if my point was hazy, I will try to clear things up a bit.

A human fetus is a living, thinking, human being, with as much right to live as you or I.  I ask again, why should anyone have the “choice” or “right” to kill. It’s like saying that the Jewish holocaust was Hitler’s personal choice and that he had a right to slaughter millions of innocence because they were an inconvenience.

You said “Sometimes teens know nothing or very little about contraception or simply act recklessly. Young women may not appear ready to carry the burden”, does that give them the right to kill? I really want to know what you think.

Liberty! But For Who?

Law defines homicide as the killing of one human being by another human being. Homicide always involves the death of a human being. This is a very broad term and can be broken down into sub categories; criminal homicide and justifiable or excusable homicide. Criminal homicide can be further broken down into two groupings, murder and manslaughter; murder being intentional or planed and manslaughter being accidental or involuntary. The act of murder has a verity of sentencing’s; taking into consideration the motives, situation, background, sanity, and age of the perpetrator.

Currently 38 states, including North Carolina, have fetal homicide laws that concern violent acts against pregnant woman, covering situations both fatal and non-fatal to the mother. In states with fetal homicide laws, the act of murder against a fetus is the same as the act of murder against any born human being; and the sentencing just a severe.  The only case in which criminal murder is legal is when it is done in a clinical setting by virtual cremation.  How can we justify that? How is abortion a legal “choice”? 

This is happening now.

Read more! If you think it should be legal then tell my how? Why? Some more insight.

Books

             I love books, reading them, holding them, and just having them on my shelf makes me extremely happy. Recently I started on a Science fiction and fantasy rave. I routinely search the internet for books I have not read and either buy them used on amazon, or check them out of the library. It has always been a problem for me during the school year to stop reading, set down my book and do homework instead.
 With the infinite number of readable books out there I hope and regret that I will never stop having this problem.  After years of constant reading my writing has been heavily affected by the various authors writing styles. Had I not read so much in the past, my writing would not be anywhere close to the low state it is in now, and I would have allot further to come than I do now. That is the wonder of reading.

A Short Story

Instead of my usual post I tried my hand at writing a short story. Tell me what you think and what I should write If I wanted to continue on the same story line. Any comments or criticisms are welcome.

Little T-tom

By Christopher Hunt      

                         

                “Wait! “said little T-tom, “that's not the way to go”. The band of travelers had started on the east bound pathway to Hansforth.  Ignoring the dumpy man, the group continued on their way.

 “No, no, no!” he exclaimed, “You mustn’t”.  Waddling along with short puffs of air, T-tom followed.

“I take it you have been spying on us for the past few days” said the tallest man in the group, not looking around.

“Jamaal, you know I have been trying to see the King ever since we separated.”

“We did not separate; we told you that you had to leave our party.”

“Yes, but do you know how important this is?”

 With a smirk, Jamaal chuckled “Not at all, please enlighten me”

“Well it’s about the east grounds outside the border, they…”

“Don’t take me for a fool!”

The chatter cut off for a moment while they worked around a fallen tree.

T-tom eagerly resumed his fusillade, “Anyways, we must turn around!”

“There is no ‘we’ here”

“But...”

“No more little man, leave us!”

With drooping shoulders, T-tom stepped aside and stood, watching the travelers continue down the path ‘they are going to die’.  

                The Kingdom of Acheron, bound to the east coast of Limenzule, was a small state. Based around agriculture and trading, it had a successful sea port and no military to speak of. With the three main towns all surrounding the capital (Greatsfin, Hansforth, and Beauning) Acheron was somewhat overpopulated. The King and his aides were receiving some pressure from a few unnamed activists who wanted the voluntary conscriptions of their cattle to cease and were pushing quite hard on the matter.

“Lee, tell Jacobs to write up some script or another to appease the brutes for now. And hurry along that malt brandy, my head is utterly splitting.”   

The old man went with a languished bow.

“I’m convinced he’s gone senile,” the King said to empty air.

                “We must act immediately, we must give the people appeasement, and we must do so now!” The council had just begun and Filon was already yelling. The King, sitting in his corner, was waiting, ‘these morons must really think me the idiot to let this problem breed into such a catastrophe.’ After on hour of pointless debating the King decided it had gone on long enough, and stood up. Gradually, after much hissing and grumbling, quite finally fell on the hall.

“Gentlemen, members of the most esteemed high council, my subjects; I have left you in the dark. I have let you believe that this so called invasion in Hansforth is real. You latched on to this rumor and fed on it like wild dogs. There is no trouble coming from the sea, there is no attack on our land. It is all a farce, dreamed up for the good of our land and the health of our people. I will tell you why shortly, but first I must inform you that if you were not such lumbering buffoons, I would never have educated you in the first place. I have sent a sortie of our most skilled psycho-adjusters all around the Kingdome to slowly spread the word of this invasion. They arrived in Hansforth just two days ago. After adjusting a select few, the citizens are now convinced that they are about to be attacked. But my men did not leave them completely without hope; we do not want the city abandoned.  I instructed Jamaal to instill in the Mayer the notion that we will defend the city with all our strength, and that a sea battle will take place.  You are asking yourselves why such an extravagant procedure that will displace hundreds of families and possibly risk many lives is being carried out. Shock politics and perceived weakness are both helpful in ensuring stability, promoting patriotism, and discouraging outside attack. “

The King sat down to a complete silence. There was a tangible aura of befuddlement and shock that seemed inserted far down everyman’s larynx so as none could speak.

A door opened somewhere and the King watched as the page that entered made his way through the crowd.

“Sire, a man outside wishes your presence immediately, he says it is urgent”

“Who is this man?”

The same door through which the page had entered burst open for a second time and a short man came running in.

“My King, you must hear me. We are being invaded! There is a plan to take our fair city of Hansforth!”

“Guard’s, remove this man straightaway”

Three guards were already in motion and dragged the man away. When he was nearly out the door the man screamed again “No! You must hear me.”

“Who was that man?” The King demanded.  Answering timidly the page said, “I’m not certain but he goes by the name of T-tom.”

 With a chuckle the king addressed the council, who if possible, looked even more confused, “as you can see Jamaal has been busy if not overly so. Lee! Lee! Where are you old man?” 

Something to Ponder

    I was rummaging through my shed today, looking for a pair of portable speakers, and came upon an artifact of technology, a floppy disk. This was surprising to me because you can nary find a computer today that accepts this type of ancient equipment. After standing still in shock for a few seconds I flipped the thing over and acquired another little jolt. Written there in black sharpie is the word KEN, underlined a few times. What most fond memories of my childhood are behind this useless piece of plastic: sitting in my dad’s office with one or two of my older siblings, plinking away at the keyboard of some Aztec aged monstrosity, playing my first computer game. -For those of you who don’t know KEN is one of the first FPS shooter games made, that has pixels the size of my thumb- I now write this looking at that black square of pointless plastic and think of everything that has happened since, all pointless if my life did not have some meaning outside of myself. Why do you live such a short life and not fight to realize that you are not just some random, pointless, piece of dust floating through space? Why do you continue to live if you truly believe that it is all worthless? Because you don’t, you think you can gain meaning by living a fuller life or by building your body and mind. But I ask, if your body and essence is just dust then how can that emptiness give it self any significance?  I am proposing that the yearning you feel is actually a want to believe in something outside of self, something greater than self, someone more pure that self. I am telling you that maybe there is a God, and that maybe if you believe and trust, and follow him, then you don’t have to fight for meaning anymore. 

The Grimke Sisters

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

                    

  An old essay of mine that I dug up. 

            Late in the seventeen hundreds Judge John Faucheraud Grimke‎ became a strong supporter of slavery and of the subservience of women. He owned a huge plantation in the South Carolina colony as well as a large number of slaves. John and Mary Grimke gave birth to Sarah in 1792 and Angelina in 1805. Both the sisters grew up surrounded by wealth and luxury as well as servants and slaves. After a few short years both sisters grew to despise slavery and at the early age of five, after seeing a slave being whipped, Sarah hated everything about slavery to the point of trying to board a steam boat and leave her father’s plantation. After growing up under repression as women and after living around slavery their whole youth, Sarah and Angelina Grimke rebelled against subjugation and their hatred of slavery grew into passions that would define the rest of their lives.

            Although they were daughters of a plantation owner, Sarah and Angelina Grimke grew to loath slavery with all its degradations and filth. Their intimacy with slavery in their youth gave the sisters a strong platform of experience on which to base their future books, columns, and speeches. This gave them a weapon of sorts to realistically portray the atrocity of slavery and convince people of its brutality.

            Sarah accompanied her dying father to Philadelphia. She stayed in Philadelphia for a few months longer after her father’s death and meet Israel Morris, a Quaker. He introduced her to Quakerism and after a few weeks Sarah returned home. After a short stay on her family’s plantation Sarah decided to become a Quaker minister and went back to Philadelphia, leaving her Episcopalian upbringing behind. Being a woman and disrespected when it came to public speaking, her endeavors were unsuccessful as a minister. With her younger sister in mind, Sarah returned home to “save” Angelina from an otherwise likely life of repression and to bring Sarah with her. After converting Angelina to Quakerism, the sisters continued to fight for women’s rights and the abolishment of slavery. 

            Viewing women’s rights to be equal in importance to abolitionism, both sisters continued to fight for their causes.  In 1836 Sarah wrote and had published Epistle to the Clergy of the Southern States and Letters on the Equality of the Sexes and the Condition of Women in separate newspapers which gained her large amounts of criticism from the general public as well as fellow Quakers and abolitionists. The sisters grew famous for breaking the social norms of the time, like speaking to mixed audiences and debating with men. In 1838 Angelina got married to a prominent abolitionist named Theodore Weld.  After a few years of speaking around the country the sisters retired and became less conspicuous while taking the back stage.

           From an early age the Grimke sisters led a life of selflessness. Against the law and her parents’ wishes, Sarah taught her personal slave how to read and write until her parents found out and threatened to whip the slave. Once away from home, their lives revolved around ways of fighting against slavery and for women’s rights. The sisters were notable for their unprecedented forwardness and passion and as women they gained huge amounts of publicity, positive as well as negative. Sarah and Angelina Grimke are remembered as prominent members in the early abolitionist movement that led to the eventual prohibition of slavery; and as strong advocates of women’s rights that started a movement that would change how women were treated and respected worldwide.

A try at today's popular genre: comedy and ads.

Writing Sample

It is hard to find anything more exhilarating than being on the top of a mountain with nothing below you but clear slopes and endless forests to navigate. You have a type of freedom that, when embraced, is almost euphoric. Panoramic views of giant snow-caped mountains, the crisp glare of sun-on-snow reflection, and the fresh bite-scent and quiet murmur of falling snow, all overpowering your senses. With a rush you start downhill, and everything changes.

You’re flying, through clouds of snow and forests of evergreen. The muffled swish of pure power and the grinding of ice, taking their turns in the dance of extravagant mountain maneuvering: heel-toe-heel-toe, twist, catch an edge, twist and flatten out, slight hop, heel-toe-heel-toe. Its you, your board,  and the snow, simple things yet somehow they give you the ability to attain unimaginable speeds and incredible joy.

There is a jump coming up and you decide to try it. You take a small crouch on the approach, a nice line up, and then you wait, up, at the last moment burst with your legs. You are flying again, but this time through the air, keep level, wave your arms a bit for balance,  then bend on impact. With a giddy laugh for a successful jump you continue the dance. This is the life.

Intro:

Hello, My name is Christopher Hunt. I have lived in Asheville North Carolina all my life and have always loved the mountains. Being a senior in high school and duel-enrolled at AB-Tech I do not get many chances to engage in the activities that I have always enjoyed such as Ultimate Frisbee, beach volleyball, biking and excessive casual reading. Although I should be making my decisions for the immediate future, I have absolutely no idea what I want to do or where I want to go.

Most Blogs these days are written and designed to appeal to a younger crowd. Bold flashy titles that grab the readers interest and mammoth pictures which scream for attention are used like meat hooks to pin down and real in every browsing populous, no mater his or her interests. Articles are chalk full of little verbal innuendos, slang, and sarcasm to appeal to today's Internet crowed and words are ghettoized by intentionally cutting off or shortening them. Bloggers are first rate salesmen, and there product is words.

The gaming Blog, Joystiq, and the technology Blog, Gizmodo, both
  use this method like kings. Its nearly impossible to not be influenced by there guises and therefore I willingly submit that both Joystiq, for its gaming atmosphere, and Gizmodo for its sassy approach to modern views on technology, both interest me.