Response Paper 6: Life in the Woods

Brian Cheever

Matt Thomas

Language Arts 11

10-4-07

 

Two Years, Two Months, Two Weeks, and Two Days Later…

 

            Henry David Thoreau once pulled off something amazing. He made a vow to live in the woods near Walden Pond for exactly two years, two months, two weeks, and two days. He succeeded. This adventure resulted in one of the most fascinating, hypnotic, yet ultimately sleep-inducing books ever written. One where you’re so engrossed in what he has to say that you don’t want to fall asleep, but you can’t help it. Amazing stuff. Anyway, Thoreau inspired me to do the same (besides the writing part; I’m far too lazy for that). If living in the woods will give me a better understanding of society, then I’m already there, because I could really use a better understanding of society.

            First things first, I am going to one-up Thoreau in my quest. I’m going to stay in the woods for two years, two months, two weeks, two days, two hours, two minutes, two seconds, and two milliseconds. Meaning when my time is nearly up, I’d better haul ass out of the woods. Wouldn’t want to end up staying a few seconds over the preset time, or everything will be ruined. Anyway, I will now go over what I will do once I’m out there.

            Food and water are obviously the number one priority. I’d bring a truckload of food. It would mostly be crap, seeing as how disgusting healthy stuff is. As with water, there’s more than enough in the rivers and lakes all over the woods to live off. Rather than blow money on Costco 24-packs of “purified” water, I’d rather save money, and go with what nature gives me. Besides, there are plenty of places to vomit in the woods.

            I’d also bring a few weapons. A gun and a large hunting knife. In case I get sick of junk food and find myself craving bush meat. That won’t happen though. I’m picky enough as it is.

            In case I found myself in need of a good thrill, I’d bring a portable DVD player, and a copy of The Blair Witch Project (how anyone could find that movie NOT scary is beyond me). Not only would it give me a good adrenaline rush during the night, but I’d also find myself paying more attention to the random sounds I heard in the woods, and analyzing them (just like Thoreau did). I’d learn a lot about the nature of sound, determining which ones are good, bad, and irrelevant. However, the terror that movie brings out tends to keep me up for days, so to wear down from it, I’d also bring a copy of the film’s crappy sequel, the pointlessly named Book of Shadows, which in addition to being unintentionally hilarious, also makes the stupid mistake of openly acknowledging the fictional nature of it’s predecessor.

            The problem with this excursion would be that I’m not philosophical. Henry David Thoreau managed to make his a success story due to his excessive deep thinking. Me, all I can think about is movies. Movie reviews, actors, directors, the emotions they bring out in me… It’s all movies. Movies aren’t a big part of my personality. Movies are my personality. As a result of this, rather than going through the grueling process of describing a single tree in three or more pages, I’d make a documentary about the adventure. Just take a bunch of random footage of me doing random stuff in the woods, as well as random images of the woods themselves. I’d then edit it together using various transitions, color filters, and maybe some voice over detailing how I felt at certain times. I’d have crafted the next masterpiece. It could either be known as a philosophical work of art, or if I had some encounters with angry bears or psychotic cavemen, it could be the next big horror movie.

            How this will give me a better understanding of society, I have yet to learn. Let’s just hope for the sake of my social life that it does.

Response Paper 4: Rip Van Winkle 2000

Brian Cheever

Matt Thomas

Language Arts 11

9/31/07

 

Rip Van Winkle in 2007

I awoke from a rather lengthy nap, surprisingly, without Dame interfering. Then something struck me. I remembered that Dame was dead. This was really weird. If I had slept for less than five years, I’d have remembered that. That means I overslept again. As I pulled out of my daze, I looked around and noticed that I was behind bars. It was a jail cell. I’d been there numerous times for loitering, so I didn’t care. What made me really uncomfortable about the place was the huge man who was in the bed right next to me. I called to the guard, who wore a completely different uniform than they had however many years ago I fell asleep. I called over to the man and asked him what year it was. He laughed and said, “Way beyond your years, old guy.” I told him I was serious, and he responded “This is the year that you die if you don’t shut up.”

I waited until the guy was asleep to devise my escape, seeing as how that guard was no help. However, the place was so secure, there was no way to get out. I spent all night wondering where I was, and how I was going to get out. The next morning, another guard came by, opened the door, and said “Okay old man. You’re awake, you’re free to go.” I figured, “what the heck.” They said I can go, I might as well go.

Outside looked different. There were these four-wheeled, horseless carriages, all over the place. You couldn’t look any direction without seeing one of these. I figured this year was well before 1984, because I had slept till the 1940’s recently and managed to read that George Orwell book, and what that book predicted had at least twenty years before it found it’s way into this society. After I read that, I fell right back asleep. But still, I must have been asleep for a much shorter amount of time than I thought, which wouldn’t explain why I didn’t remember Dame’s death.

I saw a little shack that was selling newspapers. The print sure had improved since my time. And they had pictures in it. Real pictures, not paintings or illustrations. The headline read “Crazy Old Man Awakens From 70 Year Slumber in Central Park.” And the picture was of me. I was asleep against a tree, and several little kids were posed around me. I had become what was apparently called a “tourist attraction.”

This place really started to scare me. I got dirty looks everywhere I went. I wasn’t helped by having a beard that was longer than I was. Not to mention I hadn’t bathed in seventy years, but that’s beside the point. I was grotesque in appearance. Oh well. What are you gonna do. You look bad, you look bad. The place was scarier when I considered the fact that the buildings were so tall you couldn’t even see the tops. In my old village, you could get to the top of buildings in one hop. Then again, how high can you make buildings made out of wood?

I continued down the street, and wandered near a building called “Broadway.” And when I got there, everybody turned to me. These people looked a lot smarter than the one’s I’d seen so far. They stared at me wide eyed, and one man shouted “Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!” Wow. Déjà vu. Why is it that I become a phenomenon everywhere I go? I just sleep for a few years like I always do, and everyone acts as if they’d just seen a ghost. Well, I didn’t want any more of this attention, so I ran out of there, hiding in a dark space between two buildings.

Sure enough, someone else was there. And this man didn’t even look like he knew his own name. The man offered me a bag of what appeared to be dried lawn trimmings. I had no idea what he wanted me to do with it, but being as courteous as I was, I asked him how much it cost. He said it was two hundred dollars. I freaked out at him. Only rich people had two hundred dollars in my time, and why would I buy lawn trimmings with it?

That must have made the guy very mad. Because the last thing I remember, I was staggering back to central park, with a large painful lump on my head. This place was absolutely horrible. I hoped as I passed out that I would come across a more simple time when I awoke. I guess I’ll find out in a few years.

Response Paper 3: The Perfect American

Brian Cheever
Matt Thomas
Language Arts 11
10-3-07

The Perfect American

The following is in response to a very interesting article I saw the other day. I was doing my usual aimless internet surfing, and came across an article on a magazine website, the name of which escapes me, and there was a reader poll about who the best American was. One of the top three came as quite a surprise. The first one was Abraham Lincoln. The third one was Benjamin Franklin. The one in between, who lost to Honest Abe, and beat out the man who discovered electricity, was Homer Simpson.
Now you may be asking yourself, how does a sitcom character beat out two men who actually helped make this country what it is. The thing is though, is that if you take the poll hypothetically, and really give it thought, you’d realize how accurate the results really are. Homer Simpson (again, hypothetically), is one of the greatest Americans. I’ll tell you why.
First of all, he’s a sitcom character. Sitcom characters always manage to resolve everything that goes wrong. And even better, he’s a character in an animated sitcom, therefore allowing endless possibilities as to what he can do. And before you go mentioning Family Guy, or whatever other show you might compare the Simpsons too. Peter Griffin may be similar to Homer in more ways than one, but the point is, Homer’s stupidity doesn’t get in the way of him succeeding. Peter’s a loser, plain and simple (albeit, a damn funny loser). Homer, has accomplished more in his laziness and stupidity than any intelligent man has in the real world.
Homer has been to space. He’s won a Grammy. He’s led a successful strike, served as the mayor’s bodyguard, and even beat up former President Bush (which from what I understand, automatically makes him a great American). The guy’s done it all. All the big things a person could possibly want, and not to mention, one hell of an impressive job resume. Homer’s been everything, from the sanitation commissioner, to executive producer of Mel Gibson’s remake of “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” He does all this, and still manages to find the time to drink copious amounts of beer, and warm the couch in front of the TV for hours. And once in a while, work at being a decent father.
That’s another thing about Homer. You’d have to be a damn good American to have a woman as fine as Marge be willing to stay with you in the midst of all the chaos that you create. Okay, being American has little, if anything to do with that, but it certainly adds to Homer. Only a real good man would be able to hold such an unlikely relationship together with his intelligence, or lack thereof. That goes with raising kids too. Okay, Bart is a total failure, and Maggie is a rebellious sociopath (only true Simpsons fans know what I mean). But Lisa is different. While most second graders are smarter than Homer, Lisa is a genius. She is self-taught of course, seeing as how Marge is too busy dealing with Homer’s antics, and Homer is too busy executing them, but most kids like Lisa would have already cracked under that situation and turned to drugs to ease the pain. Lisa is still only in second grade, and many people would say “wait till high school,” but come on. How many people develop genius IQs when they’re only in second grade? Actually, Homer has little to do with this, and truly does suck as a father. However, even an intelligent man would have trouble keeping his kids on the right track, so Homer gets an added bonus on that note.
Homer Simpson isn’t a smart man. Nor is he a particularly respectable man. However, he is a man who knows how to solve problems (even if it means consulting others to do so), and a man with this much experience has to be acknowledged as a great American. Homer is the man to turn to if you find yourself in a rough spot. Granted, his advice would suck, but he gives off the message “if a dumbass like him can get himself out of that, then anyone can.” And inspiration, my friends, is a great message to give off. The one thing that truly sets Abe Lincoln above him is that Abe freed the slaves. One of the greatest things ever done. And Ben Franklin may have had moral value, but what made him great was boring, and his teachings inspired people to become prudish pushovers. God bless America, and God bless Homer Simpson.

Note: What you have just read is for comedic purposes only, and not to be taken seriously. Anybody who truly believes Homer Simpson is a better American than Ben Franklin is a freak of nature. Screw magazine polls.

Response Paper 3: The Perfect American

Brian Cheever
Matt Thomas
Language Arts 11
10-3-07

The Perfect American

The following is in response to a very interesting article I saw the other day. I was doing my usual aimless internet surfing, and came across an article on a magazine website, the name of which escapes me, and there was a reader poll about who the best American was. One of the top three came as quite a surprise. The first one was Abraham Lincoln. The third one was Benjamin Franklin. The one in between, who lost to Honest Abe, and beat out the man who discovered electricity, was Homer Simpson.
Now you may be asking yourself, how does a sitcom character beat out two men who actually helped make this country what it is. The thing is though, is that if you take the poll hypothetically, and really give it thought, you’d realize how accurate the results really are. Homer Simpson (again, hypothetically), is one of the greatest Americans. I’ll tell you why.
First of all, he’s a sitcom character. Sitcom characters always manage to resolve everything that goes wrong. And even better, he’s a character in an animated sitcom, therefore allowing endless possibilities as to what he can do. And before you go mentioning Family Guy, or whatever other show you might compare the Simpsons too. Peter Griffin may be similar to Homer in more ways than one, but the point is, Homer’s stupidity doesn’t get in the way of him succeeding. Peter’s a loser, plain and simple (albeit, a damn funny loser). Homer, has accomplished more in his laziness and stupidity than any intelligent man has in the real world.
Homer has been to space. He’s won a Grammy. He’s led a successful strike, served as the mayor’s bodyguard, and even beat up former President Bush (which from what I understand, automatically makes him a great American). The guy’s done it all. All the big things a person could possibly want, and not to mention, one hell of an impressive job resume. Homer’s been everything, from the sanitation commissioner, to executive producer of Mel Gibson’s remake of “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” He does all this, and still manages to find the time to drink copious amounts of beer, and warm the couch in front of the TV for hours. And once in a while, work at being a decent father.
That’s another thing about Homer. You’d have to be a damn good American to have a woman as fine as Marge be willing to stay with you in the midst of all the chaos that you create. Okay, being American has little, if anything to do with that, but it certainly adds to Homer. Only a real good man would be able to hold such an unlikely relationship together with his intelligence, or lack thereof. That goes with raising kids too. Okay, Bart is a total failure, and Maggie is a rebellious sociopath (only true Simpsons fans know what I mean). But Lisa is different. While most second graders are smarter than Homer, Lisa is a genius. She is self-taught of course, seeing as how Marge is too busy dealing with Homer’s antics, and Homer is too busy executing them, but most kids like Lisa would have already cracked under that situation and turned to drugs to ease the pain. Lisa is still only in second grade, and many people would say “wait till high school,” but come on. How many people develop genius IQs when they’re only in second grade? Actually, Homer has little to do with this, and truly does suck as a father. However, even an intelligent man would have trouble keeping his kids on the right track, so Homer gets an added bonus on that note.
Homer Simpson isn’t a smart man. Nor is he a particularly respectable man. However, he is a man who knows how to solve problems (even if it means consulting others to do so), and a man with this much experience has to be acknowledged as a great American. Homer is the man to turn to if you find yourself in a rough spot. Granted, his advice would suck, but he gives off the message “if a dumbass like him can get himself out of that, then anyone can.” And inspiration, my friends, is a great message to give off. The one thing that truly sets Abe Lincoln above him is that Abe freed the slaves. One of the greatest things ever done. And Ben Franklin may have had moral value, but what made him great was boring, and his teachings inspired people to become prudish pushovers. God bless America, and God bless Homer Simpson.

Note: What you have just read is for comedic purposes only, and not to be taken seriously. Anybody who truly believes Homer Simpson is a better American than Ben Franklin is a freak of nature. Screw magazine polls.