Happy Halloween

"The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it's when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there..."

-Stephen King

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

People have asked me if I believe in ghosts. It's a question I never really know how to answer. I don't think I have an answer, really. I do believe in an afterlife, that there is something after death. But whether spirits can get "lost," or not make it to their destination and are forced to stay here for some reason is something I don't know if I believe. A person whose time is up must leave this world and go to his awaited reward or punishment. An omnipotent God (in whom I do believe in) could not just allow a soul to be lost in between unless there was a reason that God saw fit to allow.

When I think about ghosts (and I don't think I'm alone on this thought), I think of something scary and horrible. There are three types of "common ghosts" I can think of. The first type are people, often women and/or children, who died under truly horrific circumstances. They were tortured and/or suffered at the hands of another especially sick and evil person and eventually were murdered by that same monstrous individual. When a person, especially when that person is innocent of any wrong doing, quits this life under horrific pain and surrounded by such evil, it is believed that it causes that innocent's soul to be trapped in that area of their death. You hear ghosts stories about houses being haunted by children who were murdered by some despicable person and are forced to remain in that house perpetually in their suffering. This is an idea I can't get myself to believe. Someone who suffers so much pain and agony in their life, especially at the end, deserves relief of some kind. They deserve comfort and peace when it is all over. It isn't fair that a soul should be continuously punished because of the particularly heinous and painful way they died, especially if their end was not their fault but the result of another twisted soul.

The next type I've commonly heard of is ghosts of people who left this life by their own hands. It is believed that people who committed suicide are forced to continue their suffering they experienced on this Earth by never being able to leave it. I understand where such an idea may have come from. Most religions view suicide as an unforgivable sin. Some religions have the view that if a person commits suicide, they are automatically condemned to hell. This is an incredibly sensitive issue for many people who know someone who was successful in ending their own life or people who tried to end their own but weren't successful or didn't follow through. I would consider myself in the latter group. Having had to deal with severe depression for most of my life, I know how painful it can be. The mere thought of existing for one more day seems too much to handle. You can't see an end to your suffering. I have a dear friend in whom I confided in when I was feeling suicidal. He said something I'll never forget. He was relating how people often remark that suicide is "fucked up." He looked at me with sincerity and said, "There is nothing fucked up about wanting to end pain." That's how I feel. Of course, I am not condoning suicide. I beg of anyone out there who is struggling with thoughts of ending their life to please, please find someone you can trust (or someone you believe is generally a trustworthy person) and talk to them. I don't believe people who commit suicide would be forced to have their soul forever stuck on this Earth continuously in the same state of pain they tried so desperately to escape. It isn't fair and it isn't right. They were seeking peace and comfort. They deserve to find it.

The last type relates back to the first type. It is a person who in life was a evil in the most basic sense of the word. They maliciously hurt people. They were mean to animals. There was very little, if any, goodness in them. These people were so profoundly malevolent and malicious that they took the lives of others who had done nothing except exist. These horrific people possessed such an evil that they took the lives of people in the most inhumane and sickening manner. As I stated previously, those innocent people whose lives were taken under such circumstances deserve peace and should receive it. However, the person who committed such nightmarish crimes does not deserve relief or comfort in my eyes. They deserve nothing except continuous pain and torture, worse even than the kind they inflicted upon their victims. When that person dies, I believe their soul automatically becomes trapped in the place where they horrific crimes. There they must suffer pain and especially fear; they must suffer a fear even more excruciating than the kind their victims must have felt. They have to live in their constant state of fear and torture, suffering for their actions. If they ever do leave this world, they will not find comfort. They will only be welcomed into the arms of hell where even more agony awaits them, the kind of which we cannot begin to comprehend.

These are the kind of ghosts I believe in. It seems like the most fair to me. Being a ghost, having your soul trapped on this Earth in a state of perpetual pain and anguish is not for people who were innocent but for people whose hands are stained with the blood of innocents. These souls who showed nothing but meanness and malice towards their fellow men are forced to spend an unknown amount of time scared and in pain. I cannot emphasize their fear enough. They relished in inflicting fear in their victims. Now they must be continuously terrified. The only difference is they don't know what is causing so much fear inside them, which makes it all the more horrifying.

As for their interactions with the living, I view it like in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. In the novel,  the souls of evil men are forced to look upon the suffering of humanity and know they cannot help them. I think that's how the ghosts the previously talked about men must live. Not only must they be forced to look upon the suffering of humanity but they must be forced to see their crimes being committed by others and can do nothing to help the victim or stop the perpetrator. They also must gaze upon the happiness of humanity and know they will never, ever experience any form of happiness, love or compassion. They are the souls of the damned and their fate is constant agony.

These areas where the souls are trapped do have an evil that can be felt by the living. When you are there, you feel unsettled and uneasy. You can't figure out why you feel this way but you can't shake it off either. The presence of an evil soul can be felt but these souls cannot hurt you. They can scare you, no doubt about that. They scare you because it's an evil that most of us cannot comprehend. It makes us uneasy because we have never experienced such an extreme amount of it before. But like I said, these damned souls have no power to harm us anymore. It may be a part of their punishment. If doing harm brought them a sick form of happiness in life, they are forever denied that feeling.

I guess I do believe in ghosts then, in evil spirits who are forced to exist in agony until called into hell for even worse torture. I don't believe I have ever encountered an evil presence like the one I describe above and I hope I never do.

Happy Halloween everyone.

Love You.
Mean it.

You Had Me At Hawthorne

~Note from Kelly~
This was a paper I wrote for one of my classes. I reference the class in the work. The assignment was to write about our experience reading Nathaniel Hawthorne.

I fell in love with Nathaniel Hawthorne the first time I read him. I somehow managed to get through high school without ever reading him. It wasn’t until my third year of college that I ever picked him up.

It was American Literature I taught by Dr. Jim Aton. He was a brilliant man, the kind who are so intriguing to talk to outside of class but was a really lousy professor. We had spent the first few weeks of the semester reading journals/autobiographies of the first people in America. It was painfully boring and Dr. Aton’s bland, monotone lectures didn’t help the situation. I was dying in that class.

When we finally got to Nathaniel Hawthorne, we were assigned to read The Scarlet Letter. I had my doubts about the novel. My mom had always expressed her passionate distaste for the novel. My mom is an incredibly smart woman who graduated top of her class in high school and had a 4.0 her first two years of college. Her hatred of The Scarlet Letter was not something I could brush off lightly.

But Hawthorne didn’t have that effect on me. Actually, it had quite the opposite. The Scarlet Letter pulled me into itself in way that few other books have. I have always enjoyed reading and grew up reading anything I could get my hands on. But I can only say I’ve felt a connection with a book on a level that almost is akin to something spiritual only three or four times. Earlier that year when I was living in St. Petersburg, Russia I had felt it when I read Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Another time in my life nearly five years before, it was Anthem by Ayn Rand. I remember hearing a quote from one of my teachers in high school by Christopher Morley, “There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.” That’s how it felt to read The Scarlet Letter and those other few books. It was like falling in love.

I felt emotionally connected and invest to Hester Prynne, even if I didn’t understand why. She confused me often by her feelings towards her Letter. She felt shame from it, yet there was always this independent defiant spirit within her. Her stubborn commitment to keeping the identity of her lover, her fellow “sinner,” a secret was inspiring and yet I questioned whether I could be so loyal under the same circumstances. Of course, I’d like to think I could but I wonder.

The theme of guilt and shame in both public and private settings was so rich and lush. Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale were guilty of the same “sin” but Hester must suffer publicly while Arthur does is private. His private guilt tortures him and eventually destroys him. In addition, Roger Chillingworth still remains to this day one of the most evil characters I have ever read. The man perpetuates a poor man’s suffering and self-torture just out of sheer malice and meanness and the subtle ways he goes about it made my skin crawl.

I haven’t read anything by Hawthorne since that American Literature class two years ago. Having the chance to read a few of Hawthorne’s shorter works was an opportunity I was looking forward to the most in this class. It was like seeing an old lover after many years. You notice things that are different about them but they still have that underlying feeling you fell in love with the first time. It’s comfortable. I was falling in love once again with Hawthorne’s complexity of characters and emotions. I knew I must have become more cynical in the two year absence because I always expected the worst thing to happen to the characters in the short stories. More often than not, these things never happened but I still enjoyed reading Hawthorne again. I would find myself staying up late, reading more than what was assigned. I had felt that same feeling when I began to first date someone. Sleep seemed less important than just being together. Reading his short stories rekindled my love of Hawthorne, though it wasn’t ever gone.It never left me. It was just hidden, waiting for me to find it again.

Love you.

Mean it. 

Let Me Know You're Okay

I know you wouldn't believe me if I told you I missed you. You'd probably tell me you weren't worth missing. But you are. And I do.

The weeks ago we were talking about you having too much baggage for anyone to be interested in you. I tried to convince you that everyone has baggage, everyone has scars. You told me not all scars heal and not letting people into your life has been working for you so far, though you later confessed you didn't think it'd always work.

Then I told you something I've wanted to tell you for awhile. There are people who want to be close to you when you're ready to let them in. You replied that it might be awhile but I said they know that and are willing to wait. You asked me what I meant by "they," even though you knew I meant me.  I know you don't let people become close to you and I understand why. But I promise I'll be here when you're ready to let me in. I'm not going anywhere.

Last night I told you that you've seemed distant lately. I asked if there was a particular reason for it. You told me you had a lot on your mind and you have been laying low and ignoring everybody. That's fair enough, I suppose. It just worries me. I know you've told me several times not to, but I really can't help it. The less I hear from you the more I worry. That old idiom about how "no news is good news" is full of shit. No news scares the hell out of me. I know I can't force you to talk, and texting is a pretty lousy form of communication to begin with, but I hope someday soon you'll send me a message. It doesn't have to be long or complicated. Hell, it can just be, "I'm doing alright" like that one Format song. If you'd send me something, I'll trust you and believe you when you say you're okay.

Love you.
Mean it.

The World's Got Me Dizzy Again

Jude read the text Gracie had sent him.

"The world's got me dizzy again."

It was a line from a Bright Eyes song called "Landlocked Blues" and it was there code. It was a secret message Gracie would send to Jude if her depression ever got the better of her. Sometimes Gracie would become overwhelmed by sadness, despair, or pain. More often than not, there would be no discernable cause for the torment. It was then she would send Jude their code. He knew how bad those times could get and was worried. He was still at work, although he wasn't currently occupied by anything. The writing center on campus has been slow that day with only two appointments that were already over and no walk ins. Jude put his phone back in the front pocket of his jeans and ran his fingers through his disheveled blond hair. He had lost what little interest he originally had in his assigned Milton reading and closed the anthology. He checked his watch. Still another hour before the writing center closed.

He looked towards the two other tutors in the room. Shelley, a bright, somewhat bohemian girl was typing at a computer. She paused to push her hair behind her ear. She had long blonde hair that was naturally curly in a way that made people question if fairies really did exist. Her eyes were expressive and warm. She wore a white lacy tank top and a flowy peach skirt that came about two inches above her knees. She was barefoot, having taken off her sandals long ago. Seated next to her was Damian, a tall, intelligent young man who had a talent for witty and snarky remarks. His brown hair was shaggy and unkempt and he wore a plain green shirt with the words, "Make Art Not War" written in white on the front. He was seated in front of a computer next to Shelley but was drawing/writing in a notebook he always carried with him.

Shelley and Damian were arguing over whether or not Leonardo DiCaprio can succeed in a film that wasn't directed by Martin Scorsese when Jude interrupted them.
"Hey, do you think it'd be okay if I took off?"
Shelley turned to him with a smile to reply when her face changed.
"Is everything alright?" she asked looking right into his eyes. "Is Gracie okay?" Jude never knew how Shelley always seemed to know what was going on in everyone's heads. They were friends but had hung out outside of the writing center only a few times. She had met Gracie once when a bunch of the tutors had gone out to eat after midterms. Shelley had this ability to read people and understand nearly everything about them only after a few moments of interaction. It was an amazing talent, if not a bit creepy.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's just had a hard day. Would you two be okay if I just peaced out now?"
Damian looked up from his notebook. "Yeah, go," he said then turned his attention back to his writing. We'll hold down the fort."
~
Jude unlocked the door to the small one bedroom apartment he and Gracie shared. They had moved in after being together a year and were approaching their two year anniversary. The only lights on were in the kitchen to the left, which was open to the small living room Jude walked into after crossing the threshold. He saw Gracie's bag on the couch her parents had donated to their apartment. Jude looked down the small hallway to the left that separated the kitchen from the small pantry and laundry room. Directly in front of him was the door to the bedroom. The door was closed but light was coming out from the crack at the bottom. He put his messenger bag next to Gracie's and walked to the bedroom. He knocked softly.

"Come in," Gracie called in a tired voice. Jude walked in and saw Gracie laying in their full size bed, her back to most of the room. Jude closed the door behind him. He took off his jacket and placed it on the chair next to the desk to his left. Without turning, Gracie said, "I made some macaroni, if you're hungry."

"I'll have some in a bit," Jude said as he sat down on her side of the bed. He looked at her and when she didn't look back, began to take off his shoes.
"How was your day? Did you finish that Milton reading?" Gracie continued. Jude knew she wasn't trying to avoid a conversation about her depression. Gracie was genuinely interested in his day and making sure he was fed. She didn't want her depression to keep her from being a good friend and girlfriend to Jude.
"No, I didn't finish it," Jude admitted. "I don't know how I'm going to pass this class." It was then Gracie looked at him. "Don't worry. You will. You'll do great," she said with a hint of assurance. She looked back at the wall and Jude put his hand on her ankle that was hidden underneath the comforter. He rubbed it gently and looked at the wall as well. Just to the right of where he was looking, underneath the window was a bookcase jammed with books. They had been meaning to buy another bookcase for a while but have never got around to it. Jude stood up and walked over to it. He crouched down and surveyed the titles. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a well-worn hardback. Its dust jacket was long gone and was fraying at the corners. Jude walked around to his side of the bed, crawled under the comforter, propped himself up on pillows, and began to read aloud.

"A throng of bearded men, in sad-coloured garments and grey, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes."

As Jude read, Gracie's body language changed. She knew those words almost by heart. She knew what Jude was reading and it made her almost cry. Not out of sadness or despair, but out of amazement. It was the feeling of realizing someone knows everything about you, not because you remind them but because they listen. She turned on her back and stared at the ceiling while Jude continued.

"The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as a site of a prison."

Gracie then looked at Jude, who stopped reading and looked at her. "Thank you," Gracie said and smiled. She turned and cuddled up to Jude, putting her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her. After an affectionate squeeze, he kept reading. The book was originally cream color but had black smudges from being read over and over. The front didn't have the title but instead an intricately decorated letter A, one matching the tattoo on the back Gracie's shoulder with the exception her's was a P.

Love you.

Mean it. 

Stuck Between Master and Tyrant

"Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public."

-Winston Churchill

The Times, They Are A'Changing

I've been thinking a lot today.

I've come to realize that it's always when we look back that we notice how much we've changed. We grow up, we mature, we learn and we grow. We look back and we see the distance we have covered in our journey of life. We hardly ever realize we're changing when we're in that state of change.

I've only been thinking about it because for the first time I have realized I'm changing while I'm in that state of change. I don't even know how to describe the change that is taking place. I'm less happy-go-lucky (if you ever believed I was to begin with). I've cut myself off from destructive relationships that I only maintained because I had no one else to go to. I trust strangers a lot less and I find myself often feeling angry or irritated for no apparent reason.

But a good change is I've made friends, or rather, I've strengthen the friendships I've had. I've realized now who means a lot to me and who really doesn't. The greatest of these realizations is discovering that my friend Jon is probably the only friend I completely trust within a 200 mile radius. He's my dearest friend within that radius as well. He was one of the very first people I met when I moved. He knows more about me than most people do up here. I trust him. He's become one of my very few friends whom I would drop everything to help. I'm very lucky to have him as a friend.

I'm becoming more self-confident but in a different way. I've always been self-confident but I'm learning how to be so in a more passive way. I'm learning to be content being by myself. I'm learning to feel of worth when I'm alone. It's hard, really hard but I'm making progress.

I've said this before, I'm sure. I'm just trying to figure out a way to live my life that works for me. And I guess that means I need to be open to change, not only around me but also within me. As long as all of the changes help me to be happy, I can deal with it I suppose.

Love you.
Mean it.

Highs & Lows

I woke up angry this morning. I really have no idea why. So I'm going to deal with it the same way I deal with pretty much everything else in my life that is irksome. I'm going to write my way through it.

It's been a troublesome week, full of exciting highs and crippling lows. I'll talk about the lows first, I guess. That way I will hopefully have more to talk about with the highs.

Low Points in the Week

• My dog, Scotty, passed away. The vet said he most likely had an aneurism sometime last week. He had been acting really strange for a while and not like himself at all. Towards the end, he wasn't eating, drinking, and only moving when it was necessary. My dad took him to the vet and after being told there wasn't anything we could really do, made the decision to put him down. I was really upset over the whole thing. I loved that dog so much. He had the funniest personality. But I take comfort knowing we gave him a good life. The day my dad adopted him from the pound was the day before he was going to be put down. We gave him three more years he wasn't suppose to have. I'm going to miss the little muffin.
• I was sick last week and stayed home from school. I received an email from my one professor telling me that I had accumulated four absences in that class. Since it is only a term long class, four absences or more is an automatic failure. There's nothing I can do about it. It's the policy not only for her class but for all term long classes. I've done every single assignment in that class and got an A on all of them as well. But now I'm going to fail. It sucks hardcore. 
• I've been having trouble sleeping lately. My depression is hitting me hard at night and I can't fall asleep for hours. Because of this, I end up sleeping in and missing my classes. In addition, my sleep has been fitful lately. I wake up feeling like I didn't sleep at all. I'll wake up in the middle of the night several times, mostly from nightmares that I can't seem to remember once I'm awake. I'm drenched in sweat and my body aches as if it was ridged for a long time. I don't know what is causing it. I don't like it one bit. 
• My email was hacked and someone has been sending out emails with some kind of phishing scam to all my contacts in my name. I've changed my password three times but they're still happening. I might need to change my email, which is going to be a huge pain in the ass. 

High Points of the Week

• I was made assistant-editor of the culture section of the Review! I'm way excited about that. I'll be receiving a small scholarship starting next semester and I'll be able to go to a national conference for collegiate newspapers that will be in California. It's so great! I can't believe it, honestly. I mean, I only started writing for the paper back in July-ish. I'm very grateful and very excited.
• My improv group, What's So Funny?, did a benefit show to raise money for the Provo Survivor. The members of my singles ward showed up for their FHE activity. I'm so glad they came because they made up over half the audience. In addition, my good friend Jason came, as well as my parents. We did a great show too. The audience seemed to really like it. Plus, in weird news of Kelly's life, I found out that two members of my group are married to girls I graduated with. Reed married Katie Fallon & Seth married Lorien Stice. Weird weird weird. Also, Katie happens to know Jorgen "Bug" Madsen, a good friend of mine I met down at SUU. Her cousin is best friends with Bug. 
• Speaking of my world getting smaller, last week I went out to dinner with an old high school friend, Ammon. He brought with him an old mission companion, Daniel. Daniel is from South Africa, which is where they served. I told them I have a friend who is serving there right now. When Daniel asked who it was, I told them Elder Nick Adams. Daniel then proceeded to freak out. Daniel had been Nick's training companion. He couldn't believe I knew him. (I met Nick down as SUU. He and Bug are pledge brothers in Sigma Chi). Daniel then went on and on about how much he loves Nick. I don't blame him. Nick is one of the coolest people I know. 
• This could be a high and a low but I finished the "The Girl..." series by Stieg Larson. I don't know what to call the series really. It's made up of three books: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, & The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. All of them have been so good. I've loved reading them. By the end, I was so invested in all of the characters, I was a wreck to know how the story would end and if everyone was going to be okay. I'm really sad it's over and there won't be any more books (Larson recently passed away). They're great books and I highly recommend them to anyone. 
• I saw the play Noises Off last night at UVU. It was hilarious! I loved every minute of it. It's a great farce about a group of actors, a director, a stage manager, and a tech guy trying to put on a play with little rehearsal time, little talent, lots of drama, and one alcoholic actor who keeps drinking. It's so entertaining. It's made up of three acts, the second being my favorite. It takes place backstage of one of their performances. There is some dialogue but as soon as the play-within-the-play starts, the only dialogue comes from onstage, which the audience cannot see. All of the action backstage, which the audience can see, must be performed as quietly as possible, which is hard to do when there are a few actors who want to kill their ex-lovers/fellow actors, the stage manager is on the edge of a mental break down, and everyone is trying to keep alcohol away from the alcoholic actor. All the while, they are trying to make their entrances and exits and keep the show going. Please, if you have the time, go see this play. I mean it. It ends on the 30th. Go! 

I was smart to have the Highs last. I feel much better. Thanks for reading an update of my life. And I'm serious about seeing Noises Off. It's too good to miss. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Movies (and TV Seasons) I Own

1. (500) Days of Summer
2. 10 Things I Hate About You
3. 12 Monkeys
4. 24--Season Four
5. 24--Season Three
6. 300
7. Accepted
8. The African Queen
9. Airplane!
10. Alien
11. Aliens
12. All Dogs Go to Heaven
13. Alpha Dog
14. Amelie
15. American Gangster
16. American Psycho
17. Anne of Green Gables
18. Anne of Anvonlee
19. Annie Hall
20. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
21. Babe
22. Bad Boys
23. Bad Boys II
24. Best in Show
25. Big Fish
26. The Big Lebowski
27. The Big Sleep
28. The Birds
29. Blade
30. Blade II
31. Blade Trinity
32. Blade Runner
33. The Blair Witch Project
34. Boondock Saints
35. The Bourne Identity
36. The Bourne Supremacy
37. The Bourne Ultimatum
38. Braveheart
39. The Brothers Bloom
40. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
41. Casablanca
42. Catch Me If You Can
43. Citizen Kane
44. The Color Purple
45. Constantine
46. Coraline
47. Crazy Heart
48. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
49. The Dark Knight
50. Dead Poets Society
51. The Deer Hunter
52. The Departed
53. The Devil Wears Prada
54. Dial M for Murder
55. Die Hard 
56. Die Hard II
57. Die Hard With a Vengeance
58. Donnie Darko
59. Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
60. Ed Wood
61. Empire Records
62. Family Guy: Blue Harvest
63. Family Guy: Something, Something, Something Dark Side
64. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
65. Fiddler on the Roof
66. The Fifth Element
67. Fight Club
68. Forrest Gump
69. Four Brothers
70. Frost/Nixon
71. The Fugitive
72. Gabriel Iglesias: I'm Not Fat, I'm Fluffy
73. Gangs of New York
74. Garden State
75. Gladiator
76. The Godfather
77. The Godfather Part II
78. Gone Baby Gone
79. Gone with the Wind
80. Good Will Hunting
81. Goodfellas
82. The Graduate
83. Gran Torino
84. Green Street Hooligans
85. The Hangover
86. He's Just Not That Into You
87. Hellboy
88. Hellboy II: The Golden Army
89. Hero
90. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
91. The Hurt Locker
92. The Illusionist
93. The Incredible Hulk
94. Inglourious Basterds
95. Interview with the Vampire
96. The Invention of Lying
97. Iron Man
98. Jaws
99. Julie & Julia
100. Juno
101. Jurassic Park
102. Jurassic Park: The Lost World
103. Kill Bill Volume One
104. Kill Bill Volume Two
105. Kung Fu Panda
106. Lars and the Real Girl
107. The Last Kiss
108. Law Abiding Citizen
109. Liar Liar
110. Live Free or Die Hard
111. Lock, Stock, & Two Smoking Barrels
112. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
113. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
114. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
115. Lucky Number Slevin
116. The Maltese Falcon
117. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
118. The Matrix
119. Matrix Reloaded
120. The Men Who Stare at Goats
121. A Midsummer Night's Dream
122. A Mighty Wind
123. Monty Python and the Holy Grail
124. Moon
125. Much Ado About Nothing
126. The Mummy
127. The Mummy Returns
128. O Brother, Where Art Thou?
129. Ocean's 11 (the original)
130. Ocean's 11
131. Ocean's 12
132. Ocean's 13
133. Office Space
134. On the Waterfront
135. Once Upon a Time in Mexico
136. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
137. Pan's Labyrinth
138. Perfume--The Story of a Murderer
139. Pineapple Express
140. The Postman Always Rings Twice
141. The Prestige
142. Pride & Glory
143. Pride & Prejudice
144. Pride and Prejudice (7-hour edition)
145. The Princess Bride
146. Project Runway: Season 2
147. Project Runway: Season 3
148. Project Runway: Season 4
149. Project Runway: Season 5
150. The Proposal
151. Psycho
152. Public Enemies
153. Pulp Fiction
154. The Punisher
155. Raging Bull
156. Reality Bites
157. Rear Window
158. Reign of Fire
159. Reservoir Dogs
160. Resident Evil
161. Resident Evil: Apocalypse
162. Resident Evil: Extinction
163. Revolver
164. Riddick Trilogy
165. The Ring
166. Romeo + Juliet
167. The Sandlot
168. A Scanner Darkly
169. Scarface
170. Seabiscuit
171. Secret Window
172. Serentiy
173. Shaun of the Dead
174. The Shawshank Redemption
175. Sherlock Holmes
176. Shooter
177. Signs
178. Sin City
179. The Sixth Sense
180. Sleuth (2008 version)
181. Smokin' Aces
182. Snatch
183. Speed
184. Star Trek
185. Star Trek: First Contact
186. Star Trek: Generations
187. Star Trek: Insurrection
188. Star Trek: Nemesis
189. Star Wars, Episode IV: A New Hope
190. Star Wars, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
191. Star Wars, Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
192. Stardust
193. Stranger Than Fiction
194. Sunshine Cleaning
195. Super Troopers 
196. Taken
197. The Taming of the Shrew (Broadway Theater Archives version--Not Elizabeth Taylor version)
198. Taxi Driver
199. The Terminator
200. Thank You for Smoking
201. There Will Be Blood
202. To Kill a Mockingbird
203. Underworld
204. Underworld: Evolution
205. Underworld: Rise of the Lycans
206. Unforgiven
207. The Untouchables
208. Up in the Air
209. The Usual Suspects
210. V for Vendetta
211. Vertigo
212. The Village
213. Waiting for Guffman
214. Waking Ned Divine
215. War of the Worlds
216. Watchmen
217. White Christmas
218. The Wicker Man
219. Wonderfalls: Complete Series
220. Zombieland

Pride in Myself, A Poem

~Note from Kelly~

This is an assignment I had in my Literature of the American Renaissance class. We had to write a poem that was inspired by Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself." Personally, I hate Walt Whitman and I especially hate "Song of Myself." But I made a go at it and it turned out quite nicely.


Pride in Myself


I sing of myself
and only myself

I've been years in the making
and have only recently started liking
the results

The bitter taste of betrayal
launched me into myself

I trust myself, I rely on myself
and I know myself.

For the first time I can remember,
I've been falling in love with myself.
It's strange & foreign
but exciting with
new possibilities.
It's a new way to live.

It may be called sinful
(or at least in bad taste),
to have an honest and unadulterated love of myself.
But it's taken me so long to get here
and I'd rather deal with gossiping acquaintances
than with an existence of misery.

The love of myself
and only myself
will one day
be evidenced
with the Hawthornian Scarlet Letter P
tattooed on my back shoulder
just in case I forget again.

My Love of Comics

I blame Joe.  It really is his fault that I'm into comic books now.


One day I stopped by his office for him to sign my timesheet. His “office” was really an old storage closet on the third floor of the Braithwaite Building. There were no windows, no phone hook up and I believe he had to share it with another professor. On one wall was a poster from the movie Fight Club with a picture of Brad Pitt as the infamous Tyler Durden and the eight rules of fight club. I should’ve taken that as a omen of things to come considering Fight Club was one of my favorite novels by my favorite writer who still happens to be alive, Chuck Palahniuk. 


Also in his impossibly small office were stacks of comic books intermixed with great works of fiction, including Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Kerouac, more of my favorite writers. There were also action figures of various comic book heroes sitting on his desk next to his black MacBook, the exact same one I had. 


After he signed my timesheet, we started talking. The conversation veered to comic books. I was skeptical of comic books. My favorite kind of books were what could be considered "classic literature." I was a huge fan of Russian literature, such as Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy. I couldn't see much value coming from comic books.  


Joe, energetic at the chance of talking about his favorite subject, grabbed one graphic novel off the shelf and began to passionately discuss its merits. “Batman: The Long Halloween,” he rapidly explained, “is full of allusions and references to other works, from Othello to How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” He talked about the intriguing comparison between Detective Gordon’s blossoming marriage and Harvey Dent deteriorating one. He mentioned the latest Batman movie, The Dark Knight, and how this book goes into so much more detail of Harvey’s transformation into the villainous Two-Face. 

After an epic trip to St. George (as most trips to St. George are) I got myself a copy. I opened the first page and nearly dropped the book. The first page had Bruce Wayne in a tux, holding a hat in his hand. He was saying the words, "I believe in Gotham City." I couldn't believe it. This was exactly how the movie The Godfather started out, except it was the baker in a suit holding a hat and saying, "I believe in America." How could Joe not have mentioned this? The Godfather is only one of the greatest movies known to mankind and Joe knew his movies. There were allusions and tributes to  The Godfather throughout the entire book. I got more and more excited each time I found a new one. 


I ended up finishing the book in one sitting. I even read it a second time in that same sitting. It was fantastic. It was complex, rich, and intriguing. The fact there were "pictures" to go with the words only added an additional layer of characterization and insight into the story instead of being a distraction as I had first anticipated. 


I had grown up watching (and loving) Batman: The Animated Series. In those children's cartoons, the Joker was a playful, not really super evil character. But in The Long Halloween, it showed me a side of Joker that had recently been played up in movie, The Dark Knight.  I also loved Catwoman in the book since I had never really understood her motivation in any of the Batman stories I had known. In my young and innocent days, there were good guys and bad guys with very little in between. Catwoman was on no one's side, or rather, she was on whosever side benefitted her the most. 


So there you have it. The reason I love comic books was because of Joe and Batman: The Long Halloween. I now currently own 39 comic books, most of which are either Batman, Hellboy, or Ex Machina. 


Love you.
Mean it. 

Books I Own

1. "They Say/I Say" by Gerald Graff
2. 100 Best Loved Poems by Phillip Smith
3. 501 Most Notorious by Paul Donnelley
4. 501 Must Read Boooks by Emma Beare
5. 1984 by George Orwell
6. Abe Sapien: The Drowning by Mike Mignola
7. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahme-Smith
8. Absolute V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
9. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
10. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
11. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol
12. All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum
13. All Quiet On the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
14. All Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder by Frank Miller
15. Am I Not A Man? The Dred Scott Story by Mark L. Shurtleff
16. America On Film by Harry M. Benshoff
17. American Literature Volume II Edited by William E. Cain
18. American Zombie Gothic by Dr. Kyle William Bishop
19. Anahita's Woven Riddle by Meghan Nuttal Sayres
20. Animal Farm by George Orwell
21. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
22. Anthem by Ayn Rand
23. Aristotle and an Aardvark Go To Washington by Thomas Cathcart & Daniel Klein
24. The Associate by John Grisham
25. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
26. B.P.R.D. Volume 2 by Mike Mignola
27. B.P.R.D. Volume 1 by Mike Mignola
28. Batman: Dark Victory by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale
29. Batman: Haunted Knight by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale
30. Batman: Hush by Jeph Loeb
31. Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller
32. Batman: The Dark Knight Strikes Again by Frank Miller
33. Batman: The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale
34. Batman: The Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul by Various 
35. Batman: Year One by Frank Miller
36. The Beautiful and the Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald
37. The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King
38. Believing Christ by Stephen E. Robinson
39. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
40. Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ by Lew Wallace
41. Beowulf by Unknown Author
42. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
43. Blankets by Craig Thompson
44. The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne
45. Book of Rock Quotes by Michael Heatley
46. A Book of Luminous Things by Czeslaw Milosz
47. Braided Lives by Minnesota Humanities Commision
48. Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote
49. Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
50. The Brethren by John Grisham
51. A Bright Red Scream: Self-Mutilation and the Language of Pain by Marilee Strong
52. The Broker by John Grisham
53. Brother Odd by Dean Koontz
54. Buddha's Little Instruction Book by Jack Kornfield
55. By the Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder
56. The Call of the Wild by Jack London
57. Candide by Voltaire
58. Cannery Row by John Steinbeck
59. The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
60. Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal by Ayn Rand
61. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
62. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
63. Ethics and Values by Louis P. Pojman
64. A Certain "Je Ne Sais Quoi": The Origin of Foreign Words Used in English by Chloe Rhodes
65. Choke by Chuck Palahniuk
66. City Dog: Essays by W.S. Di Piero
67. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
68. Collected Tales and Poems by Edgar Allan Poe
69. The Collected What If? Eminent Historians Imagine What Might Have Been by Stephen E. Ambrose
70. The Color Code by Dr. Taylor Hartman
71. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
72. The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx
73. The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson by Emily Dickinson
74. Comstock Lode by Louis L'Amour
75. Confessions of an English Opium Eater by Thomas De Quincey
76. Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
77. The Critical Tradition by David H. Richter
78. The Crucible by Arthur Miller
79. The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon
80. Cyrano De Bergerac by Edmond Rostand
81. A Dash of Style by Noah Lukeman
82. The Death of Ivan Illych and Other Stories by Leo Tolstoy
83. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
84. The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger
85. The Devils: The Possessed by Fyodor Dostoevsky
86. The Diary of a Madman and Other Stories by Nikolai Gogol
87. Diary by Chuck Palahniuk
88. Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
89. A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen
90. Dracula by Bram Stoker
91. Dune by Frank Herbert
92. East of Eden by John Steinbeck
93. Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss
94. Emma by Jane Austin
95. The Encyclopedia of Useless Information by William Hartson
96. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
97. Ender's Shadow by Orson Scott Card
98. The English Language: An Owner's Manual by Lee Thomas
99. Essential Shakespeare Handbook by Leslie Dunton-Downer
100. The Essential Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson by Ralph Waldo Emerson
101. Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer
102. Everything's an Argument by Andrea A Lunsford
103. Ex Machina, Vol. 1: The First Hundred Days by Brian K. Vaughan
104. Ex Machina, Vol. 2: Tag by Brian K. Vaughan
105. Ex Machina, Vol. 3: Fact v. Fiction by Brian K. Vaughan
106. Ex Machina, Vol. 4: March to War by Brian K. Vaughan
107. Ex Machina, Vol. 5: Smoke, Smoke by Brian K. Vaughan
108. Ex Machina, Vol. 6: Power Down by Brian K. Vaughan
109. Ex Machina, Vol. 7: Ex Cathedra by Brian K. Vaughan
110. Ex Machina, Vol. 8: Dirty Tricks by Brian K. Vaughan
111. F My Life by Maxime Valette
112. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
113. A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
114. The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan
115. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk
116. Final Exits: The Illustrated Encyclopedia of How We Die by Michael Largo
117. The Firm by John Grisham
118. The First Four Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder
119. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
120. For the New Intellectual by Ayn Rand
121. Ford Country: Stories by John Grisham
122. Forever Odd by Dean Koontz
123. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
124. Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
125. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt
126. Ghostgirl by Tonya Hurley
127. Ghostgirl: Homecoming by Tonya Hurley
128. The Giver by Lois Lowry
129. The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
130. The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams
131. God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater by Kurt Vonnegut
132. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
133. The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
134. Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
135. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
136. Great Dialogues of Plato by Plato
137. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
138. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
139. Great Short Works of Herman Melville by Herman Melville
140. The Greatest Movies Ever by Gail Kinn
141. Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales by The Brothers Grimm
142. Holes by Louis Sachar
143. Hamlet by William Shakespeare
144. Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk 
145. Hawthorne's Short Stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne
146. Hellboy, Vol. 1: Seed of Destruction by Mike Mignola
147. Hellboy, Vol. 2: Wake the Devil by Mike Mignola
148. Hellboy, Vol. 3: The Chained Coffin and Others by Mike Mignola
149. Hellboy, Vol. 4: The Right Hand of Doom by Mike Mignola
150. Hellboy, Vol. 5: Conqueror Worm by Mike Mignola
151. Hellboy, Vol. 6: Strange Places by Mike Mignola
152. Hellboy, Vol. 7: The Troll Witch and Other Stories by Mike Mignola 
153. Hellboy, Vol. 8: Darkness Calls by Mike Mignola
154. Hellboy, Vol. 9: The Wild Hunt by Mike Mignola
155. Hellboy, Vol. 10: The Crooked Man and Others by Mike Mignola
156. Here, Bullet by Brian Turner
157. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
158. The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis
159. House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
160. The House of the Dead and Poor Folk by Fyodor Dostoevsky
161. How to Win Friends & Influence People by Dale Carnegie
162. I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley
163. I'm an English Major--Now What? by Timothy Lemire
164. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky
165. The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde
166. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote
167. In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash by Jean Sheperd
168. Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice
169. Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
170. Iraqi Poetry Today by Saadi Simawe
171. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
172. Jesus the Christ by James Talmage
173. Jubal Sackett by Louis L'Amour
174. Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
175. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
176. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
177. The Karamazov Brothers by Fyodor Dostoevsky
178. King Henry the Eighth by William Shakespeare
179. The Greatest Unsolved Mysteries of All Time by TIME Magazine
180. The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis
181. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. 1 by Alan Moore
182. The League of Extraordinary Gentleman Vol. 2 by Alan Moore
183. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
184. Light in August by William Faulkner
185. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
186. List Yourself by Ilene Segalove
187. Literary Theory: A Guide for the Perplexed by Mary Klages
188. Literature of the Western World, Vol. 2: Neoclassicism through the Modern Period by Brian Wilkie
189. Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder
190. Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
191. Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
192. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
193. The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder
194. Look at Movies by Richard Barsam
195. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
196. The Lower Depths by Maxim Gorky
197. Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk
198. MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers by Modern Language Association
199. Madness of the Day by Maurice Blanchot
200. Maisie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear
201. The Malady of Death by Marguerite Duras
202. Many Moons by James Thurber
203. Math Through the Ages by William P. Berlinghoff
204. Matilda, Who Told Lies & Was Burned to Death by Hillary Brilloc
205. Maus I: A Survivor's Tale: My Father Bleeds History by Art Spiegelman
206. Maus II: A Survivor's Tale: And Here My Troubles Began by Art Spiegelman
207. Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare
208. Meditations and Other Metaphysical Writings by Rene Descartes
209. The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and Other Stories 
210. Mendel's Daughter: A Memoir by Martin Lemelman
211. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
212. Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka
213. Moby Dick by Herman Melville
214. Moral Philosophy by Louis P. Pojman
215. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
216. Naked by David Sedaris
217. Naked Pictures of Famous People by Jon Stewart
218. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass
219. Native Guard by Natasha Trethewey
220. New Historicism and Cultural Materialism by John brannigan
221. The Next American Essay by John D'Agata
222. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. A by Nina Baym
223. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. B by Nina Baym
224. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. C by Nina Baym
225. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. D by Nina Baym
226. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. E by Nina Baym
227. The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Vol. F by Nina Baym
228. The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Vol. 1 by Stephen Greenblatt
229. Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky
230. Nothing Feels Good: Punk Rock, Teenagers, & Emo by Andy Greenwald
231. Odd Hours by Dean Koontz
232. Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz
233. Of Mice & Men by John Steinbeck
234. Oh, Say Did You Know?: The Secret History of America's Famous Figures, Fads, Innovations & Emblems by Fred DuBose
235. On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder
236. On the Road by Jack Kerouac 
237. The One Hundred: A Guide to the Pieces Ever Stylish Woman Must Own by Nina Garcia
238. One World, Many Cultures by Stuart Hirschberg 
239. Othello by William Shakespeare 
240. Paradise Lost by John Milton
241. Paradise Regained by John Milton
242. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind
243. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
244. Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood by Marjane Satrapi
245. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
246. Philosophic Classics: From Plato to Derrida by Forrest E. Baird
247. Philosophy: Who Needs It by Ayn Rand
248. Picasso at the Lapin Agile and Other Plays by Steve Martin 
249. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
250. Plato and a Platypus Walk Into a Bar by Thomas Cathcart
251. The Pocket's Idiot's Guide to Buddhism by Various Authors
252. Poetics by Aristotle
253. The Portable Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
254. Practicing New Historicism by Catherine Gallagher
255. Pride and prejudice by Jane Austin
256. Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis
257. The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli
258. The Problems of Philosophy by Bertrand Russell
259. Pygmy by Chuck Palahniuk 
260. Rant: The Oral Biography of Buster Casey by Chuck Palahniuk
261. The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
262. Religions of the World by Spencer J. Palmer
263. Rhetorical Grammar by Martha J. Kollin
264. Robert Frost's Poems by Robert Frost
265. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare 
266. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
267. The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
268. Serial Killers & Mass Murderers by Nigel Cawthorne
269. Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels & Stories, Vol. 1 by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
270. Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels & Stories, Vol. 2 by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
271. A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
272. Shutter Island: Graphic Novel by Dennis Lehane
273. Silas Marner by George Eliot 
274. The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis
275. Sisters of Misery by Megan Kelley Hall
276. Six by Seuss: A Treasury of Dr. Seuss Classics by Dr. Seuss
277. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
278. Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk
279. Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury
280. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
281. Stencil Pirates by Josh MacPhee
282. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski
283. Stranger Than Fiction: True Stories by Chuck Palahniuk
284. Stuff White People Like: A Definitive Guide to the Unique Taste of Millions by Christian Lander
285. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
286. SuperFreakonomics by Steven D. Levitt
287. Survivor: A Novel by Chuck Palahniuk
288. The Most Notorious Crimes in American History by TIME Magazine
289. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens 
290. The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare 
291. Tell-All by Chuck Palahniuk
292. Tess of the d'Ubervilles by Thomas Hardy
293. The Testament by John Grisham
294. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
295. These Happy Golden Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder
296. This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
297. Thomas and Beulah by Rita Dove
298. Tim Gunn: A Guide to Quality, Taste, & Style by Tim Gunn
299. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
300. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
301. Travels with Charley in Search of America by John Steinbeck
302. The Trial by Franz Kafka
303. Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
304. Twelve Angry Men by Reginald Rose
305. The Ultimate Book of Useless Information by Noel Botham
306. The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
307. The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath
308. Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
309. Under the Covers and Between the Sheets: Facts & Trivia About the World's Greatest Books by C. Alan Joyce
310. Under the Dome by Stephen King
311. Understanding English Grammar by Martha J. Kolln
312. The Virtue of Selfishness by Ayn Rand
313. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis
314. Waiting for Godot: A Traicomedy in Two Acts by Samuel Beckett
315. Walden by Henry David Thoreau
316. The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells
317. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
318. Watchmen by Alan Moore
319. Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
320. Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein 
321. Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare by Stephen Greenblatt
322. The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck
323. Witness by Karen Hesse
324. The Witness of Poetry by Czeslaw Milosz
325. The Works of Edgar Allen Poe by Edgar Allen Poe
326. World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks
327. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Sanest Man Alive

"If you don't stick to your values when they're being tested, they're not values--they're hobbies."

-Jon Stewart

(aka my hero)

Love you.

Mean it. 

Please, Just Be Kind

The other day someone said, in a rather condescending tone,  "So you some kind of feminist?"

The question was asked after I had voiced my disapproval of a blatantly sexist remark made by the same person who threw the question at me in reply. My answer seemed to catch him off guard. I stated, "In this instance, yes." After he gave me a puzzled look I continued, "I am against all forms of hatred towards any person because of who they are. What you said was sexist against women so in this instance, I could be considered a feminist." Our class started and we were unable to continue our "discussion" but I hope I made myself clear. 

It is my belief that everyone should be judged individually by their actions and not by gross stereotypes or generalizations. I have an intense aversion towards hatred and violence stemming from hatred. It is when people make judgements based on stereotypes and generalizations that we get so much hatred. Furthermore, as I stated to my classmate, I am against hatred towards people because of who they are. In most cases, who a person is is not a matter of choice. I am a white heterosexual young woman born and raised in Provo, Utah in an LDS home. I don't have a whole lot of choice in any of those circumstances (yes, the argument could be made that I can have a sex change but since I do not have any desire to do that & for the sake of argument, it can be considered a non-choice). I was white the day I was born and I'll be white the day I die. Same goes for my sex. There isn't anything I can do about my upbringing either, considering I'm 22 and those days are long gone. I'm heterosexual. I was born that way and have not real inclination to change. All of these qualities are out of my control. There is very little I can do to change them. Therefore, any hatred towards me for any of these qualities is wrong. 

The same goes for everyone else. A homosexual black man who grew up in California can't do anything about his qualities and neither can a bisexual asian woman from Georgia. It is wrong to judge or hate anyone based upon things out of their control. In my argument, you may have guessed that I am claiming homosexuality is not a choice. This is my belief. A person who is truly homosexual has no more control over their sexual orientation than a heterosexual person has over theirs. It's just the way a person is "programmed." 

However, I do believe in fair judgment placed upon people based on their actions. It is actions that determine who we really are. We may claim various things about our personality or our mind but these all mean nothing if our actions do not reflect those claims. If a person is caught molesting children, I don't give a damn what race, sex, age, or sexual orientation they are. They are the scum of the Earth and no punishment is harsh enough for their actions. Same goes for anyone else who purposely and/or maliciously hurts another human being. 

There is so much hatred in this world today and even more violence stemming from that hatred.  And so much of that hatred comes from judgments based upon qualities the "judged party" has no control over. This upsets me so much. All human beings on this planet have DNA that is 99% identical to every other human being. On this molecular level, only 1% makes us different from anyone else. Why, then, are we so hateful towards other people whom we perceive as being different? We're not that incredibly different and most of the qualities that make us different are things we have no control over. I don't understand it and I'm not sure that I want to. 

But I'm calling out to anyone and everyone who reads this blog. Please, please love others around you. Show kindness to someone who is in need of it. Let go of hate based upon differences that cannot be changed. Refuse to perpetual hatred towards individuals because of who they are instead of what they do. Stand up and stop violence against innocents. Please, just be kind. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Why Yes, I Am Miserable.

So I'm sick.

I have a rather irritating cold that is making me miserable. And to add to my misery, it's fall break. So instead of enjoying my time away from the stress of school and work, I get to be in bed, sneezing, coughing, and generally hating life.

The only up side to this whole thing is I might be able to get more writing done than I have in a while. With nothing else to do & being confined to either my bed or the couch, my laptop will be a source of sanity for me. No promises though.

Love you.
*cough cough*
Mean it.

Original "Howl" Article.

~Note from Kelly~
This is the article I originally wrote for the UVU Review about a performance of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl." I ended up writing over 1,200 words, which I know will not all make it into the final edition. I loved what I wrote so I'm posting my original work here before I start to revise it. If you have never read "Howl" I strongly encourage you do. Enjoy.

On October 8th, at the Salt Lake City Public Library, a group of artists, dancers, musicians, and poets gathered to present a performance piece of Allen Ginsberg’s famous poem, “Howl.” Titled “Howl: a Neo-Bob Opera in Five Acts,” and led by UVU’s professor and Artist in Residence, Alex Caldiero, the performers brought to life Ginsberg’s 3600 word epic poem through the use of photography, film, voice, music, and dance. The previous day marked the 55th anniversary of Ginsberg’s first reading of the poem at the Six Gallery in San Francisco, California in 1955.

Ginsberg, born in 1926 and died in 1997, was regarded as the leader of the Beat Generation. The “Beats,” as they were often called, were a group of American writers whose work became famous in the 1950’s. These writers infused their work with spontaneity, open expression, raw emotion, and gritty visualization but often reflected a yearning for spiritual and intellectual freedom. The Beat culture often involved experimentation with drugs and alternative forms of sexuality at the time. Often the Beats’ work was joined with passionate political ideas that called for personal freedom, and denounced materialism. Throughout his life, Ginsberg was an active supporter of free speech, gay rights, anti-war political agendas, and the demystification of drugs. Ginsberg’s famous reading of Howl in 1955 is widely considered to be the true beginning of the Beat movement.

The performance that took place in Salt Lake began with a documentary done by Trent Harris back in 1979. It showed Ginsberg as he truly was, a revolutionary and an artist who did not claim to know all of the answers. In the interview, Ginsberg retold an anecdote of a person coming up to him and asking, “Are you Allen Ginsberg?” to which Ginsberg replied, “No, that’s just my name.” Ginsberg then related the fact he had given up on trying to understand who he was years perviously and focused on just existing.

After the screening of the interview, Alex Caldiero stepped to the front of the stage. Behind him to his left were the “Chorus of Ranters,” made up of Steve Hall, Meghan Smith, Larry Harper, Meghan Wiemer, Jack Waters, Sara Caldiero-Oertli, and Daniel Sabin. To Caldiero’s right was a three person band with Will Lovell on bass, Daniel Featherstone on guitar, and David Featherstone on the drums. Caldiero began the performance by offering a prayer to the spirit of Ginsberg. Since Ginsberg was a Buddhist, Caldiero’s prayer sounded like a chant of a Buddhist monk, accentuated by ringing a bell in Caldiero’s hand.

After the prayer for the spirit of Ginsberg, Caldiero opened his book and began. The first line of “Howl,” the most famous line of the whole poem, was delivered by Caldiero in a flat voice with no special emphasis: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness...” After that, the energy in the room grew as Caldiero recited the words of Ginsberg. The Chorus of Ranters in unison joined Caldiero in emphasizing phrases or even just a word. The band began playing improvisational jazz, while “The Beat Angels,” a group of dancers made up of Samuel Hanson, Julian Baranowski, Conor Rickman, Jesse Carrier, Ashley Anderson, Kendall Rantunde, and Aiko Johnson, began to move rhythmically with the words. Often their movements were spastic, full of uncontrollable shaking and jerking to represent the madness of the Beats.

As Caldiero continued to read, he infused the audience with an electric excitement that left people unable to move. As the energy grew and grew, black and white pictures of the Beat Generation were projected upon a screen on the back of the stage while Caldiero and his Chorus of Ranters used Ginsberg’s words to say who they were. They were Beats, “who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listened to the Terror through the wall.” They were writers, “who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish.” Caldiero finished part one shouting, “...with the absolute heart of the poem butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years!” For what seemed like eternity, no one in the audience applauded or moved. It was as if they couldn’t breathe, so struck by what they had just experienced.

Caldiero, The Beat Angels, the Chorus of Ranters, and the band started up again with part two. With a different tone but the same energy, Caldiero spoke Ginsberg’s words about Moloch, a characterization of industrialized civilization. Photographs of of destruction and war flashed on the screen while Caldiero and his Chorus of Ranters shouted, “Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!” Again, the excitement of every performer invoked a sense of insane anxiety within the audience. The words, powerful enough on their own, combined with music, dance, images, and voice left the audience gripped by the experience they knew was unrepeatable.

In between part two and part three was an reenactment of the obscenity trial that occurred in 1957 against the City Light’s Bookstore, which was “Howl’s” domestic publisher. The poem was brought to trial for obscenity charges because of its blatant discussion of drugs and sex, both heterosexual and homosexual. With Ken Sanders, a rare books store owner in Salt Lake City, serving as The Judge and Caldiero playing the part of Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the owner of City Light’s Bookstore in 1957. The arguments of the freedom speech & expression, as well as freedom of the press were brought to into question, with Ferlinghetti’s words, spoken by Caldiero echoing in the hall. When the Judge pronounced the words, “Not Guilty” over and over to each of the charges, the Chorus of Ranters joined in his shouting. The rapidity of the words and the heavy significance of them stirred the audience to join in shouting the words of freedom, “Not Guilty.”

Caldeiro started the third and final part of “Howl” with shouting, “Carl Solomon! I am with you in Rockland...” Ginsberg is addressing Carl Solomon, to whom the poem is dedicated throughout the remainder of the poem. Solomon had met Ginsberg when they were both patients in a mental hospital, the Columbia Presbyterian Psychological Institute, in New York. The line, “I am with you in Rockland” is used repeatedly in reference to the Rockland State Hospital in New York where Ginsberg’s mother was often a patient. Though the sentences in the third part of the poem are short and simple in comparison to the previous two parts, Caldiero kept up the vibrancy. The Chorus of Ranters punctuated words while The Beat Angels moved onstage with a fluid indifference, as if to represent the futility Ginsberg often felt when confronted with issues of the nation and of his own mental instability.

Once the performance was over, the audience sat motionless for a brief moment before erupting into mad applause. Mere seconds later, the entirety of the auditorium was on their feet, clapping and shouting their praises. After the entire group took their bows, Caldiero approached the microphone once again and shouted himself. He encouraged the audience to join him in “howling” to Ginsberg, to society, to insanity, and to life. As the audience milled out, each person looked at one another knowing they had all experienced something significant.

Love you.
Mean it.

Requirements for a Proper College Experience

1. Live in a crappy apartment/house.
2. Stay up all night but not to do homework.
3. B.S. a paper.
4. Work a job you hate.
5. Attend opening night midnight movie.
6. Have an impromptu road trip.
7. Have an epic spring break.
8. Go on a terrible blind date.
9. Attend a play put on by the theater department.
10. Attend a college sporting event that is neither football nor basketball.
11. Attend a concert of a local or not well known band.
12. Be forced to get creative when it comes to what you eat and/or how you eat it.
13. Attend functions put on by the school just to get free food.
14. Do a study abroad if possible. 
15. Attend a church service that is not your faith.
16. Take a philosophy class.
17. Join a club and be an active member.
18. Do something just because you can.
19. Have a horrible roommate.
20. Cram for an exam you have no hope of passing. 
21. Play night games on campus. 
22. Meet someone under the most random of circumstances and become best friends.
23. Go to Wal Mart at 3 a.m. just because there is nothing else to do.
24. Attend a poetry reading.
25. Go to a student art gallery.
26. Become an activist for a cause you support.
27. Use public transportation at least once.
28. Wear your least favorite clothes because it's laundry day.
29. Make use of the local laundry mat.
30. Have 4 a.m. breakfast at Denny's.
31. Go camping with your friends.
32. Become good friends with a professor.
33. Have your heart broken.
34. Have your first walk of shame.

If any of you think of others, let me know.

Love you.

Mean it. 

#75 What is your favorite painting?

My favorite painting is called "The Umbrella" by Maria Bashkirceva. I saw it at the Russian Museum of Art in St. Petersburg, Russia.

This picture doesn't do the painting justice. Her eyes are haunted by things she's already had to endure yet she knows it is not over. She knows she is left alone and doesn't know if she'll be able to make it.

If you're ever in St. Petersburg, go check it out.

Love you.
Mean it.

Invitation to Help the Provo Survivor--Comedy Night Benefit Show

The following is an open invitation to anybody who is in the Wasatch Front area, or any other place but has decided to come and visit.

I'm a member of the UVU improv group called "What's So Funny?" In conjunction with the UVU Applied Behavioral Science Club (ABSC), we're putting on a benefit improv comedy show on Monday, October 18th.

Here are more specifics:

What: Comedy Night featuring "What's So Funny?" Improv Group

When: Monday, October 18th

Time: 7 pm

Where: Center Stage in the Student Center on UVU Campus

Price: $3 w/ any student I.D., $4 w/o student I.D. 

We're raising funds for the "Provo Survivor," the former UVU student who was attacked on the Provo River Trail earlier this year. Even after insurance, her medical bills are over $200,000. All of the proceeds go to help this woman who has had to endure so much. 

In case you have never even heard this story, here's the run down. A 19 year old woman was running on the Provo River Trail when some bastard attacked her. He brutally raped her, then bashed her head in repeatedly with a brick and left her for dead. (And what makes me really sick is it all happened in broad daylight!) 

She was somehow able to survive, crawl out of a ditch and get help. She was the ICU for a very long time. 

Luckily they caught the guy and his court date has been pushed back far enough that the woman is going to be well enough to testify against the creep. 

Sometimes there isn't punishment enough for this kind of evil.

Here are some articles about the attack. 

So if you're going to be in the area, I ask that you come and help this young woman and her family with her medical bills so she can move on with her life. Plus, you'll get a really funny show. You'll laugh and you'll feel good about yourself. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

This Is War

"You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair -- the sense that you can never completely put on the page what's in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page."

-Stephen King

Gay Rights--Which Side Are You On?

Some once asked me if I meant everything I write on here. I replied that I meant every word. If I didn't mean it, I would never, ever put it up here. If there is one thing I believe in with a fervent passion, it is the freedom of speech & expression. Everyone should have the right to say (or in my case, write) whatever they believe. No one should have the power to silence anyone just because what is being said might be troublesome for the silencer. However, with freedom of speech & expression comes a responsibility that must never be ignored. If you are going to put something out there, you had better attach your goddamn name to it and stand behind every single word. I have said this before, "Anonymity is cowardice. If you won't attach your name to your words, you aren't worthy to write them." I believe that with sincere dedication. Being a writer should involve an occasional act of bravery and defiance. As writers, we need to be brave enough to take a stand and use our talents to point out injustice we see in this world. We need to show society what they may be unwilling to see for themselves. It is the obligation of writers to write the truth as they see it and in these times of corruption & injustice, writers cannot be fence-sitters.

All this being said, I need to write about an injustice I see in our country right now. I mean to cut out all of the bullshit and publicly declare which side I firmly put myself. Those who know me know I very often joke about serious matters. I take a candid approach to nearly everything because I have such an aversion to to seriousness & formality. Today is different, my friends. Believe me when I tell you I am being completely serious and I mean every goddamn word.

A dear friend of mine was recently kicked out of her mother's home because her mother discovered she was dating a girl. My friend, we'll call her "Sarah," had nowhere to go except out of state to live with her girlfriend. Her world, her sense of family & love was destroyed. Her mother, who is suppose to love, nurture, and care for Sarah betrayed her and turned her back on her own daughter. This, to me, is one of the biggest injustices in our society today. I know Sarah's mother very well and have had a good relationship with her throughout the years. Upon hearing of her treachery, I was infuriated. Punishing, shunning, or mistreating someone because of their sexual orientation is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Those of the LGBT community are not second class citizens and should not be treated as such. These people are citizens of our country and should be allowed all of the basic rights and freedoms that their citizenship calls for. When the Founding Fathers wrote the Declaration of Independence, they penned these inspired words,

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty & the pursuit of Happiness."

Unfortunately, when these words were written, they did not apply to "all men". African-Americans, women, immigrants, etc. have had to fight to make these words true. They have had to fight for these so-called "unalienable" rights. They fought and have gained victory for the most part. Now people of a different sexual orientation find themselves fighting the same fight for equality. Why haven't we learned lessons from our past? Why do we still harbor so much hate towards those who are different than us?

The basis of my political/social/cultural belief system is essentially, "Don't tell me what to do and I won't tell you what to do." There is no one set way to live a life. Just as there are six billion unique people on this planet, there are 6 billion different ways to live. What works for one person doesn't always work for another. We are all just trying to find a way to live that brings us the most happiness. What right does anyone have to tell someone that their way of life is incorrect? As long as no one is infringing on your life or your rights, why should you care how anyone else lives?

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all the hatred in this world. So much hatred is generated by the belief that differences between people are bad. In the grand scheme of things, our differences are so minute in comparison to our similarities that hating each other because of them is pointless.

When I say I am on the side of gay rights, I mean to say I am on the side of human rights. I will never condone hatred towards someone because they are different. I will never consider anyone to be lower than me because they are different. And I will never support any type of political/social/cultural agenda that perpetuates injustice and hatred towards my fellow human beings.

Now you know where I stand. Now, my friends, which side are you on?

Love you.
Mean it.

Sean, Gus, & "Jack"

Remember when I talked about how I only feel fiercely loyal to three guys?

I've been thinking about them a lot lately.

It always seems weird when I talk about any of those three. I refer to them as my friends but that word just doesn't seem adequate. They're more than just friends to me. I mean, friend is a word that I throw out flippantly and with very little regard. But with these three, it's different. They mean so much to me that a casual word like "friend" doesn't seem like enough.

I use the term Numero Uno when I talk about Sean because that's what we call each other. But every time I use it, I have to explain what I mean. "Numero Uno" is more of an inside joke between us. I sometimes say, "best friend" because it's easier for others to understand my meaning, but I don't like using that either. I had "best friend" once and he ended up destroying me. That term is forever tainted for me. Sean has been there for me when no one else has. I know it sounds cheesy (and he would agree that it does) but he's been my rock for over a year now. I owe a lot to him.

He pokes fun at me because I say, "Love you" to a lot of people. He doesn't think it means anything since I use it so often. But I really do mean it when I tell him I love him. It's not like a boyfriend/girlfriend type of love. I don't think it'll ever be that type of love. And it's not like that old stupid cliche, "I love him like a brother" because I don't love him like I love my brother. I love him because he is my Numero Uno, someone who understands me and is there for me when I need him. And it's that love that makes the term "friend" seem so unsatisfactory.

When I talk about Gus, I usually refer to him as my ex-boyfriend because that's what his is. But the term "ex" has so many negative connotations that I'm quick to add that we're really really good friends still. But that stupid word, "friend," doesn't seem to really describe who his is to me.

For one thing, the guy's incredibly intelligent. I mean, I know I'm smart but he leaves me in the dust. I guess that's one of the reasons why I love talking to him. He challenges me, stimulates me to be smarter. He reminds me so much of that one guy. Gus has been there for me in my wrestle with religion from the very beginning. He's been one of the most supportive of the entire ordeal, probably because he was in the exact same situation only a few years ago. He wants me to be happy; he doesn't care where I find that happiness. He's always there for a quick pep talk or comforting word. Again, not to sound too cheesy, but he's a kindred spirit. I'm extremely lucky to have him in my life. I love him not only as someone who understands me & supports me but also because we were together at one point. All of that cannot be conveyed with just the simple word "friend."

There's also "Jack." I'm not even positive on how we became friends. We met through mutual friends. I think the first time I had a real conversation with him was when I went over to the Sig house one day. He was there cooking deer. It was around October and the deer hunt was in full swing. He offered me some. I honestly had never had deer before (a shock for a girl born & raised in Utah) but it was really good. I guess it kind of went from there. He means a lot to me. I've mentioned before he keeps people out for the most part. But he lets me in occasionally. Maybe he lets me in more than most people.

He was up here this past weekend for drill. We met up at a bar in Salt Lake called, "Liquid Joe's." His friend's band was playing there. It was only my third time being in a bar in my life but it was great to see Jack again. Even though we had to yell in each other's ears to be heard over the insanely loud music, it was good to talk to him again, actually talk and not just text each other late at night. I know this may sound weird but I love making him laugh. I mean, I can make people laugh anytime and it doesn't particularly matter. But seeing him grin, or even crack a full-blown smile and let out a chuckle, it makes me feel awesome. I swear, every time we hang out, I learn something new about him. Or, more accurately, he tells me something about himself I didn't know before. Once I hear it, I wonder why it was a "secret" to begin with.

Sometimes he texts me at night cause he's having a rough time. I talk to him and I hope I help him feel better. Sometimes all I can do is just let him know I care about him. He's been there for me a few times when I feel stuck in a night without hope of morning. He listens and gives me his straight forward, no bullshit replies. At least he's consistent. And even with him, the word "friend" seems so cheap, so trite. I mean, we are friends, yes, but we're more than just friends. We're not dating but I care about him more than just a friend.

These three guys, there some of the very few people I trust in this world. I hope they know how important they all are to me. And I need to come up with a title for them that's better than just "friend," a word that is actually worthy of what they mean to me.

I'm open to suggestions.

Love you.
Mean it.

Rip Van Winkle

I can't seem to write anything today.

Must be due to the fact I slept for 14 hours straight last night.

It sure isn't from lack of ideas. I have about four things I really want to write about. I just can't seem to get it all to come together and work.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, after I get a normal amount of sleep.

Love you.
Mean it.