Garfield Minus Garfield

November 12th, 2008 / #awesomeness, #books

If I owned a coffee table, this would be perfect for it.

Thunder's Bad Day in School

November 23rd, 2005 / #awesomeness, #badgrammar, #books

In honor of my 18th birthday, I thought I’d take the opportunity to show you how my genius has remained steadfast throughout my growth. Take, for example, an epic piece I wrote in kindergarten. For 12 years, it has made readers laugh, cry, and inevitably learn something about themselves and the state of mankind.

Consider the following (text in bold, comments in italics):

“Thunder’s Bad Day in School,” by Casey Peterson

Note: Thunder is a brontosaurus, and does not resemble in any way the stupid tyrannosaurus rex sticker my teacher slapped on at the end. Gosh.

“Thunder, sit down!” the kids say. So he sat down. Uh oh! Gum on the seat! Thunder is stuck on the seat on the bus.

Notice the detail given to that piece of gum. It’s not just a blob, like the rest of the photo, but actually resembles a chewed wad of Bubblicious. The idea there was that the reader would focus upon that main piece while the other parts of the picture sort of revolve around it.

The driver has to unscrew the bus seat because Thunder is stuck to the seat. Then, as he got to the bus driver’s seat, he couldn’t get through the door. So he had to walk sideways through the doorway.

No human elements were introduced into the picture like the bus driver’s hand to portray the insatiable sentiment of loneliness in a dreary and unforgiving world that Thunder is experiencing presently. Also, the basic ideals of the three-element plot that is implemented in many, many fairy tales begins to take shape here. Problem 1: Gum on the seat. Problem 2: An immovable seat. Problem 3: You’ll see.

When Thunder got to school, he got off the bus, he got into his red line, he got inside the school, and he sat down in his cubby. Then, he gets stuck in his…

To clarify, the “red line” is a colloquialism to my particular elementary school, as it was a line painted on the ground upon which you were until the school opened its doors in the morning. Also, it was cool at my school to sit in your “cubby,” which was pretty much a locker sans door and made of pressed cardboard. We hung our lunch boxes there. You should pay special attention here to the suspense implemented by the discontinuation of the final sentence. Even in kindergarten, I knew that suspense is a vital component necessary for making any climax more exaggerated.

Cubby! Then he goes home with the cubby on his back and the bus seat on his bottom.

Problem 3 has arrived! It’s the cubby on the head, which is pretty much the oldest trick in the book. I like how suddenly I changed my mind about the type of dinosaur Thunder is, which caused me to draw him like Nessie of Loch Ness fame. I did this to convey the inherent feeling of belittlement within Thunder: with the entirety of the world looking upon him, he had to come to terms with the fact that the being he had become was totally different from the Brontosaurus that got on the bus that morning. He was now devoid of all confidence and made his sojourn home, dejected and alone.

By Casey Aostin Peterson, C.A.P.

I included my picture along with Thunder’s on this page to convey the message that Thunder’s tale is not an isolated event. Deep down, aren’t we all a little like Thunder, green and herbivorous? Also, I used the less common spelling of my middle name to make it look fancy and European.

The End

This piece serves two purposes. There’s the obvious fact that it exists to formally end Thunder’s tale of hope and heartache, but there’s something deeper in the conglomeration of pictures gathered below the text. The rain clouds, rain, and mud all serve to convey a motif of sadness and hatred, but the smiling sun in the midst of all of Mother Nature’s fury hints at a small bit of hope: hope that Thunder had, hope that the author has, and hope that, I think, exists deep down in the hearts of every person who is to read this classic piece of modern American literature.

Hiding behind a wall of illusion

November 30th, 2004 / #books, #music

Determined to read a book at least once in my life, I ordered from Amazon.com a piece about the possibility of John Lennon’s murderer being a “Manchurian candidate.” A strange possibility, indeed, but it seemed interesting enough to choose to do for a TOK presentation. Evidently, there are just too many coincidences surrounding the assassination and there were too little questions raised after the act to constitute a “lone nut” theory. Daily, I read this book with as much diligence as I had ever put toward reading. So, after about a month of reading (note that I read at about the rate of a mildly retarded sock puppet), I finished Bresler’s Who Killed John Lennon? – just in time to present to Dr. Yarborough the chilling facts surrounding John’s Death.

Ian, upon realizing that I had, against all odds, actually read 200 pages straight, gave to me R. Gary Patterson’s The Walrus Was Paul, a book that investigates all the legendary clues pointing to McCartney’s alleged death. Looking not only at album covers (i.e. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band), but also at backward masking and lyrics with double meanings, this volume ever so delicately suggests that the Beatles pulled off the greatest practical joke in history, even if it wasn’t so obvious. Underneath the exquisite musical stylings of the pre-breakup Fab Four lies a whole other artistic realm that is really, really cool to read about. After two days on the interstate between Clearwater and Dillard, Georgia, I am proud to say that I successfully read this book too; that’s two books (which I highly recommend) within a year, a new personal record.

Presently, I am reading The Catcher in the Rye, the piece that Mark David Chapman’s controllers used to allegedly brainwash him into killing John Lennon – this may take a while.

Edit 2/13/2011: I just ran across this post while restoring my database. I remember when I wrote this over six years ago, I took great pride in the fact that if you take the first letter of each sentence backwards, it spells a secret message. I was a tricky kid.

  • Who I Am

    I'm a nobody from Florida with things to say (sometimes).

  • What This Is

    This is a not-so-detailed account of my adolescence over the course of almost a decade. Here, I shared my thoughts about things of no real consequence while at the same time being reckless with semicolons and flowery language.

    I used this website to connect with folks before Facebook. Today, I sometimes chronicle interesting thoughts and observations I have. I don't update as much as I should.

  • Colophon

    This soapbox is powered by WordPress 3.0.5. The theme is inspired by Randa Clay's Bluebird.