Wednesday, September 29, 2010

I am on a ROLL!!!

So far, I've gotten a LOT of Outcasts done...about 4 pages. In my world, that's really a feat to do in two days, because I usually jot down a paragraph or two until I die, but lately I've been writing like no tomorrow. So ~horrah~ for the world of Outcasts which I love so very much. I'm debating though whether or not to send it to a publisher, because things don't really pick up until the second book, and the first book is really slow...

Oh, and I plan to have a forest fire in their world. Fun for them. Maybe I'll split them up....but if I add that it'll make a long book...all the better! Hopefully I can extend my record of 71 pages to at least around 130. I'd like that very much, if I could do so. At first I was putzing over Awaking because it really didn't have a whole lot to it, but now it's way more complex that I think I'll overshoot my goal! And us writers know how GREAT that is. Not book is too long.

I have this awesome picture of Kovvie that I drew WAY back, and just have never gotten to uploading it. I'll get to it sooner or later.

*hm* Lately I've been talking a lot about Outcasts, and I shall do so a bit more (sorry if I bore you). Thinking back to when I started it, the sense of the old Outcasts compared to the current is WAY different. The old was really naive and young, the world just coming alive, and now it's has depth. You begin to wonder who the last Four could be, and that right there is a major mystery. And trust me, I hope you guys won't be able to guess until the end. Go on, guess! I'm pretty sure you know her/him...maybe...

But I started Outcasts on May 23, 2009, and finished December 8 of the same year. So that was...roughly around 6-7 months. Awaking I started around...whoa, I didn't realize this, May 10 2010. Is that creepy or what? But I highly doubt I'll have this done for you guys around December...I even doubt around next May... of now, I don't know what else to write about. Oh! Yes I do...

Take if you totally agree. Amen!

Monday, September 27, 2010

So hello Blogworld

Tis I. I feel like, since my characters have been so kind to me, they should get their own posts. Sorta like that blog I used to have, the one where my characters got to have a post to themselves, but that didn't quiet work out did it? So instead, I'll let them just have a little chat about themselves.

First off, onto center stage, is Xela.
Background: main Outcasts character. She is innocent of the mythical world until she turns into a werewolf on her fifteenth birthday. She meets the Outcasts, who accept her automatically into the pack. I characterized her as kind, thoughtful, and sometimes very obtuse. Xela tends not to notice when one wishes to inflict affections onto her, but constantly expresses her love for others through actions. She is the main antagonist's, Ironamo, daughter.

Her say: Hey blogworld. I know I don't really come on here a whole lot - that's Inora's job. Speaking of which, I could talk about him...well I know he's come from a tough background and all, and it is SO worth digging up deep into his kinder side. He may seem a little heartless, but he's actually really sweet. I am part of the Four, which is a no brainer with me level of magic. And I'm not going to tell who else is in the Four with me, because that would SO ruin the moment of when you find out. Let me just tell you,
it'd be one heck of a surprise. So go on, guess. Anyway, what I think of myself? I wish I wasn't magical and a normal werewolf. It's not great to be able to know what others are feeling. Sometimes I get headaches or even pass out.

But yeah, so onward to the next character, huh Icewolf?

Right, next is Akov.
Background: Former assassin of Ironamo. One of the main characters in Outcasts. He comes into play around the middle of the first book by exploding Aurum and Tamiki's house. He only wants to please Ironamo, until he meet Xela and falls in love with her. He helps her escape in the second book, get recaptured protecting her, and falls in love with another assassin of Ironamo's, Juniper, who is also Ironamo's daughter. His type: daughters of madwolves apparently.

His say: Well, thanks Icewolf for that intro. Really appreciated the comment on my type. *rolls eyes* Anyway, I consider myself a dark shade of a character, trying to find my own slice of light in the world, and find it in Tamiki. He's my Opposite, which only happens every say 300 years. But we're the first Opposites to be Dark and Light. There have been Fire and Ice, Air and Earth, and Sun and Moon. But never pure raw elements like shadows and light. Features like eyes and fur usually define opposites, hence my silver eyes. Originally though, Icewolf had my eyes white until she decided then that all others could really see was my iris, which would have been creepy, and silver was SO much better. More divine I think. I also tend to incline my thoughts toward strategy, a shadow of my past as an assassin. And... I don't really feel like saying anything else.

Divine Heart
Background: Considered the most powerful single Lethroe in the whole of the Outcast world. If you combined the sets of the Two, Three, and Four of the prophecy, they'd outstrip him by far, but separate they'd have no chance. His comes in around the middle of the second book to help the Outcasts prepare for the prophecies that are about to unfold through them.

His say: I don't have much. Compared to the Outcasts, I feel pretty humbled. They have something I don't, a family. They share no blood, but share deep bonds that can't be undone. They even have bonds with those who don't exist in their pack yet. For example, there is (name withheld for surprise!) who wasn't even born when my pack tried the Night of Awaking (basically a song a pack of Lethroes sing when they when they think the True Pack is alive to bring them together), and once he was born it was on the minds of the Outcasts until they found him. It was quiet something to witness instant bonding.

And of course, I must include one last character, the one we all know and love, Inora.
Background: Blinded by a society bully, parents killed by the same bully, and the outcast of his society of werewolves (different from a pack, societies are communities of werewolves living together), Inora was neglected as a young pup and grew up bitter. His world was pitch black until he met a powerful Lethroe, a Dark of the Lone Wolf Pack, Shadow. In anger she cuffed him and a bit of her magic restored his sight. He joined the Lone Wolf in their journeys until he meets the Outcasts. What is left of them, Tamiki, Aurum, and Flamdura, accept him into their pack. He began to feel loved for once and defended the Outcasts loyally, until a power within him was unleashed...

His say: Well, I already talk to much on this blog. So why bother typing about myself? 

Well then. Alright, I better go do something else. See you blogworld. Hope you liked that!

Sunday, September 26, 2010


Okay, so first of all, I have a brain implosion to tell you: I did it. I completed Kingdom Hearts 358/2 (heh, I typed it wrong at first...) Days. It is done. I DID IT.
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. And I also got an awesome poster for my room. I ~LOVE~ it so much. Sorry about the flash in that one. But *SCREAM*. I love Kingdom Hearts. Now all I have to do is get the first game so that I might completely understand the series...

And the second picture is of Inora and Charry. I love drawing Inora. It's so much fun seeing his expressions. I think I might use that in the ICF soon. And just in case you guys didn't see, I have a countdown for that as well as my Blogoversery. So, yeah. 

Hm, I don't know what else to add. I'm pretty psyched about defeating Kingdom Hearts, so I'm going to go be a geek and create more pictures. Later! 

Thursday, September 23, 2010

~breathe in, breath out~

Inora: Is she okay?
Rust: I don't know.
Tamiki: I'm not sure that's healthy...
Akov: *walks in* Hey guys, I- *SCREAM* ICEWOLF!
Icewolf: *rolling on the ground, foaming at the mouth*
Akov: Icewolf! What's going on?!
Inora: I-I don't know!
Tamiki: It's like her brain imploded!
Icewolf: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......
Akov: Ohmicickennuggets! *rushes to Icewolf* Icewolf, what happened?!
Icewolf: *giggles like a madwolf* do you know what (3+2)(2*10) is?
Akov: Why should I know?! Are you alright?
Icewolf: It's 200. ( 3+2=5 times 2*10= 20 is 5*20, which is 200). Because this is the 200TH POST!
Akov: ...
Icewolf: ISN'T IS GREAT?!
Akov: *brushing off confetti* That wasn't funny. I thought you were hurt.
Inora: Are you kidding? Icewolf having a brain implosion is N-O-R-M-A-L.
Rust: We really don't have a definition for 'normal' do we?
Icewolf: There shouldn't be a definition. Nothing is 'normal'.
Tamiki: Certainly not here.
Icewolf: *pout* Kovvie, if you're going to sulk, I'm not going to give you any cake.
Akov: *pouts back* Don't EVER do that to me again.
Icewolf: *grin* ~halo~
Akov: *sigh* Hand me the cake.
Icewolf: YAY! *hands cake* *hugs*
Inora: So, party?
Tamiki: You bet. Going to the Grand Canyon is going no where. *munch* *munch*
Akov: Please not my house. I just got a new deck. *forks cake*
Icewolf: *handing cake out* Hm, I would say Inora's house, but then again, it would be very gloomy.
Tamiki: Yeah, and you had the best house ever for a party!
Akov; *rubs temples (heh, I'm getting 'Fang vibes' off of him, you know, like Fang from Maximum Ride?)* No. *glances at computer screen* And don't compare me to Fang.
Icewolf: *noming cake* Okay.

So yup! This is my brilliant 200th post.

  • Take the invitation
  • Give to 3 other people
  • And go join the party! See you there
  1. Shimmer Kitty 
  2. Golden Eagle
  3. Bleah Briann
  4. Jayden Black
  5. and whoever else I missed that reads my blog

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Drawing Heartless

I'll post the picture's of Kingdom Hearts...again....

So, so far German, as I learned, talks a lot in the back of my throat *wince*. If I do it for a while, my throat hurts. You know what? I feel like writing. Did I tell you guys about Steel? No? Yes? If not, sorry, you'll find out later. If so, then alright, good for you.

His world was water. He was water. The whole of his being flowed and ebbed with the flow, like waves on a shore. All was peaceful.

Suddenly, fire plunged into the depths of his solitude. A mouth he never knew he had opened and let loose a muffled scream of agony. Water ripples, circling and spinning against natural forces. 

A voice. It wasn't a pleasant voice, moreover it sent chills up a spine that hadn't existed before. He blinked eyes which formed, thought that weren't his own, a mind that wasn't needed, a body he didn't want. Why couldn't he remain the way he was? What was happening? How come these questions were coming into his new mind? He didn't need them to live. He was torn from himself, and tossed into the harsh world of air, spice, fire, emotion, stone, and pain. 

The newborn creature opened his yellow eyes. A chirp of confusion escaped from within. In front of him, a being of fire shuffled her bloody paws. Cuts along her forelegs were easily visible on her blue scales. The newborn turned to glance behind. A basin of water was ringed with dark red blood and shadowed with fire was the sight he saw. 

His throat constricted, and sound came.

"Who am I?" 

The creature of fire pulled her mouth into an odd shape. She handed him something. He knew nothing, but suddenly his brain raced with knowing. 

He held a shadow rose. The creature of fire was a dragon. He had been created to serve. Powers sprang to his knowledge. 

His name was Steel.

And I just failed epically for the last two days to upload that video I created for this. Ah, well.

I agree on so many levels, Bleah

Visit the awesome post here.

Today, I raced home and opened my email...and screamed, bouncing in my seat. My screen beheld the word "Barnes and Nobel" and "your books have arrived". As soon as my mom got home we went right to the beloved store, and I was happy.

Before I could get my new books though, my mom wanted to go look at some in the store. So I wandered, found a book that I couldn't buy, sat right where I was (I have a habit of sitting in bookstores right by the shelves....) and began to read. My mom came to get me and I smiled and said:

"Could you look some more?" But alas, we went and got my books.

My two brand new Yu-Gi-Oh books. *screeeeeee* *fweeee* *fwaaaaa* ~love~

Also, Bleah talked about writing to her future (actual) husband. I found that a really neat idea and commented that wouldn't it be neat to hand your husband on your wedding day/honeymoon and say "I wrote this for you for when you came to me."

And then I realized how God says that to us. He wrote His letter to us (Bible, people), and is waiting for us to come to Him.

Ah, the sweetness of life.

Anyway. Did I mention I love THUNDERSTORMS?! You bet I do. We just got hit with a major one. Story: my family was riding in the car, and I saw a brilliant bolt of lightning, and made a noise like a hyena and a laugh of joy. It was quiet funny.

Well, later blogworld!



Monday, September 20, 2010


Your favorite thing about September:  THE COLD!!!
What you wear in September: Sweatshirt (previously black, but I added green and red to the mix :D), short-sleeve under, jeans, and shoes. :D 
Activity you do in September: Read outside in the nice cold. 
Your idea of how a fairy would dress:  Random, uh, in a dress made of snow?!
Your idea of how an elf would dress: Long awesome elf dress, what else?
Your favorite tree: Dogwood. And willows. Maples. Not so much pines.
Your favorite September color (orange, yellow, red, gold, brown, etc): RED! NO FREAKING QUESTION ABOUT IT.
Your favorite feeling in fall? The feeling of stepping outside in the morning to a fresh, crispy cool day, sensing winter in your bones coming. I can smell snow by the way, so I know when it's coming! ;D

Now add your own question and continue the pattern!

Bleah, Eagle, Shimmer, Jayden. Have fun!

Sunday, September 19, 2010

I'm a bit ticked off

Okay, I'm trying and trying to upload the Outcast video I made, but it keeps giving me 'error while uploading'. What do I do?! WHY WON'T IT LET ME UPLOAD?!


Friday, September 17, 2010

Everything is art

I just got done with getting a major Honors American Studies project. It was awful. I'm not going to go into details tonight because my brain is fried. My dad got home from a two week long trip, and it feels so nice to have him back. He got me Swiss chocolate!!! Tis called Toblerone. Anyone heard of it? It's really good. Any chocolate taste phenomenal to the simple American who is used to plain cow milk American chocolate. But ooooohhhh.....foreign chocolate is a interesting trip for my taste buds.

He also brought me a German hotel flyer. I liked going through it and attempting to know what it says, and the only thing I could recognize was erstklassigen which means 'upper class'. I only knew the 'klass' part because 'klassenzimmer' literally means 'classroom', so I knew part of that word had 'class' in it. It felt good to know something in another language.

On the topic of languages, one of my friends said 'shut up you stupid American' in Japenese and it was downright hilarious! I asked him to say it again and now its just so awesome.

Okay, rant time!

I really love and hate my art teacher. I've had this problem before. I really like my teacher as a person but not how they teach. For example, two years ago I had a teacher who I just didn't like how she taught us as if we were freaking 10 years older. It way over my freaking head.

So in art class, you know how you express yourself through creative colors and lines on paper or building? Well, apparently to her it's all about how you go about it. And it's really repetitive with her. She likes things cropped and overlapped, nothing in the center, and is really over-your-shoulder about EVERYTHING. She can't encourage well, and favors the naturally talented art people.

I may have some talent, but I'm in that class to expand on that and gain more talent, not look at the praise others get and feel awful that I don't have that skill. I just hurt in that class because I'm not great, I don't stand out.

Does that lady appreciate art for the beautiful thing it can be? Its a story all foretold in one instant, one glance, and you can create a story, a life, and a thriving creation. Art started and hasn't died out. Even cavemen drew! But of course cavemen didn't exist because Adam and Eve were intelligent enough to light a fire, so even then, there was art in all that they did.

Dance is an art. Movement can be an art. Feelings, paintings, stories, technology, anything! All of it can be an art. God made it that way, to be a beautiful thing, and if you look closely enough, beauty will surround you.

Anyway, I'm not sure she gets that art is expression, and not just composition. It may play a vital part in the expression, but for the most part, artist don't think, 'Oh I need to crop this so it doesn't look boring.'

Feh. Thanks blogworld for going through my rants!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

*chewing pencil*

Which I am. There is something I have wanted to blog about for a while:

I find it funny that I seriously would respond if someone called me 'Icewolf' rather than my real name. Like if for some reason you were in a crowd and I was as well and you shouted 'ICEWOLF' I would shout 'HERE!', and try to see which lovely blogger decided to shout my name with very little chance of finding me. :D

Just a random thought. That just means I've been blogging too long. :P But that's a good a way....

Ah well, see you guys later! That's all for now!


New blog!

Just so I can rant about my geekness, please visit The Geek Freak!

Monday, September 13, 2010

So here I am, sitting and typing.

Bleh. Icewolf have a LOT of homework. I just got done with one major one and now have to go do tiny ones.

I can't wait until I get to book three of Outcasts, but I never can seem to get through book two! I look at my plot graph (I was a bit bored and decided to try my hand at organization with mixed results) and say to myself, 'look, you don't have that much to go, you should be done soon', but then I confront the actual notebook (~le gasp~ my yellow notebook?! impossible.) I get brain damage.

What do you guys think? Right now I'm writing the scene when the big huge major Lethroe (magic werewolves for those who haven't read the whole thing) pack meets the Outcasts. Tamiki is outraged and confused, their leader had only visited him in his dreams before and he doesn't know why they need to come and intrude in his waking world as well. Xela struggles to come to terms with her magic and wonders why half her memory is left...

Wait, let me start from the beginning for those of you who didn't get here in time for the whole version.
Xela on her birthday finds out that she is a werewolf and adopted by the werewolf pack known as the Outcasts ( -sorry for the overuse of ( ) but yeah- EXCLUSIVE INFO: I named them such for their exclusion from most people). They live in the human world until an evil abnormal werewolf called Ironamo sends an assassin to bomb two of Xela's pack, Tamiki and Aurum. Worried he might go after her family, Xela escapes into the Ever-growing Forest with the remaining member of her pack and her sister Emogene, or Emmy. Flamdura, a black were-dragon, tags along.

You meet Morano and the Forest Pack, they stay with them, and Tamiki and Aurum come back to them and you find out there is major conflict between them concerning Xela. In the end, Tamiki finds out that he is a Lethroe and flees the Forest Pack with the Outcasts. Epilogue: Xela gets captured by Ironamo, sending the Outcasts into disaster.

The Outcasts aren't doing to well without Xela. Each wolf blames themselves. Meanwhile, Xela has lost all her memories of her past due to Ironamo's ability to steal them. Akov, a former assassin, comes into play, befriends Xela, and eventually escapes with her. He has fallen in love with her, and that becomes obvious when he is recaptured. Xela after his capture, runs blindly in one direction, traveling for a long time.

Month later: Tamiki, who has worked hard to hone his magic so that he might redeem himself from losing Xela when he could've used magic to prevent her capture (but really at his level then he couldn't), senses Xela come into his range and brings her back. He accidentally restores her memories halfway.

Thus we are at the point I am at. I think I might update my stories so you can see it a bit. Anyway, to my original question: What do you guys want to see out of Outcasts? Who do you want to live or (bwahaha) die?

Saturday, September 11, 2010

I'm on my 190th post

WHERE DID THE TIME GO?!?!?! Wow, I'm almost at my 200th post! ~le gasp~ I wonder what I shall do. I don't really have that many followers to do something like a cation contest (speaking of which, the Yugi Caption Contest answers were hilarious! Take a look if you'd like to see them...they're somewhere in my archive).

Today I feel slightly sick. My throat is scratchy, my nose is stuffy, but neither is at the point of sick-leave from school, so that's good. Wouldn't want to be stuck home all day. *rolls eyes*

Right now X-filer is on one of his preachings of 'you-spend-too-much-time-on-the-computer'. And the dork wants his own blog. He's just jealous. *sticks tongue out at the butt-head and laughs at his demise*

I GOT A PART IN THE PLAY MY SCHOOL IS DOING! *happy dance* I'm person 2, and there isn't even a person 1! I find that hilarious. But at least its a part! I'm thrilled. I didn't want a major part, and having a small role until I get a feel for acting is my plan.

And X-filer might be in his own play as well. So, I hope he gets a part.

Okay, check this out. Read the whole thing or you won't get what the underlaying message is!

The anthropologist has become so familiar with the diversity of ways in which different peoples behave in similar situations that he is not apt to be surprised by even the most exotic customs. In fact, if all of the logically possible combinations of behavior have not been found somewhere in the world, he is apt to suspect that they must be present in some yet undescribed tribe.  This point has, in fact, been expressed with respect to clan organization by Murdock.  In this light, the magical beliefs and practices of the Nacirema present such unusual aspects that it seems desirable to describe them as an example of the extremes to which human behavior can go.
    Professor Linton first brought the ritual of the Nacirema to the attention of anthropologists twenty years ago, but the culture
of this people is still very poorly understood. They are a North American group living in the territory between the Canadian Creel the Yaqui and Tarahumare of Mexico, and the Carib and Arawak of the Antilles. Little is known of their origin, although tradition states that they came from the east....

    Nacirema culture is characterized by a highly developed market economy which as evolved in a rich natural habitat. While much of the people's time is devoted to economic pursuits, a large part of the fruits of these labors and a considerable portion
of the day are spent in ritual activity. The focus of this activity is the human body, the appearance and health of which loom as a dominant concern in the ethos of the people. While such a concern is certainly not unusual, its ceremonial aspects and associated philosophy are unique.

    The fundamental belief underlying the whole system appears to be that the human body is ugly and that its natural tendency is
to debility and disease. Incarcerated in such a body, man's only hope is to avert these characteristics through the use of the
powerful influences of ritual and ceremony. Every household has one or more shrines devoted to this purpose. The more
powerful individuals in the society have several shrines in their houses and, in fact, the opulence of a house is often referred to
in terms of the number of such ritual centers it possesses. Most houses are of wattle and daub construction, but the shrine rooms of the more wealthy are walled with stone. Poorer families imitate the rich by applying pottery plaques to their shrine walls.  While each family has at least one such shrine, the rituals associated with it are not family ceremonies but are private and
secret. The rites are normally only discussed with children, and then only during the period when they are being initiated into these mysteries. I was able, however, to establish sufficient rapport with the natives to examine these shrines and to have the rituals described to me.

   The focal point of the shrine is a box or chest which is built into the wall. In this chest are kept the many charms and magical potions without which no native believes he could live. These preparations are secured from a variety of specialized practitioners. The most powerful of these are the medicine men, whose assistance must be rewarded with substantial gifts.  However, the medicine men do not provide the curative potions for their clients, but decide what the ingredients should be and then write them down in an ancient and secret language. This writing is understood only by the medicine men and by the herbalists who, for another gift, provide the required charm.
   The charm is not disposed of after it has served its purpose, but is placed in the charmbox of the household shrine. As these
magical materials are specific for certain ills, and the real or imagined maladies of the people are many, the charm-box is usually full to overflowing. The magical packets are so numerous that people forget what their purposes were and fear to use them again. While the natives are very vague on this point, we can only assume that the idea in retaining all the old magical materials is that their presence in the charm-box, before which the body rituals are conducted, will in some way protect the worshipper.

   Beneath the charm-box is a small font. Each day every member of the family, in succession, enters the shrine room, bows
his head before the charm-box, mingles different sorts of holy water in the font, and proceeds with a brief rite of ablution.
The holy waters are secured from the Water Temple of the community, where the priests conduct elaborate ceremonies to
 make the liquid ritually pure.

    In the hierarchy of magical practitioners, and below the medicine men in prestige, are specialists whose designation is best translated "holy-mouth-men." The Nacirema have an almost pathological horror of and fascination with the mouth, the condition of which is believed to have a supernatural influence on all social relationships. Were it not for the rituals of the
 mouth, they believe that their teeth would fall out, their gums bleed, their jaws shrink, their friends desert them, and their lovers
 reject them. They also believe that a strong relationship exists between oral and moral characteristics. For example, there is a ritual ablution of the mouth for children which is supposed to improve their moral fiber.

   The daily body ritual performed by everyone includes a mouth-rite. Despite the fact that these people are so punctilious about care of the mouth, this rite involves a practice which strikes the uninitiated stranger as revolting. It was reported to me that the ritual consists of inserting a small bundle of hog hairs into the mouth, along with certain magical powders, and then moving the bundle in a highly formalized series of gestures.
    In addition to the private mouth-rite, the people seek out a holy-mouth-man once or twice a year. These practitioners
 have an impressive set of paraphernalia, consisting of a variety of augers, awls, probes, and prods. The use of these objects in the exorcism of the evils of the mouth involves almost unbelievable ritual torture of the client. The holy-mouth-man open the clients mouth and, using the above mentioned tools, enlarges any holes which decay may have created in the teeth. Magical materials are put into these holes. If there age no naturally occurring holes in the teeth, large sections of one or more teeth are gouged out so that the supernatural substance can be applied. In the client's view, the purpose of these ministrations is to arrest decay and to draw friends. The extremely sacred and traditional character of the rite is evident in the fact that the natives return to the holy--mouth-men year after year, despite the fact  that their teeth continue to decay.

    It is to be hoped that, when a thorough  study of the Nacirema is made, there will  be careful inquiry into the personality  structure of these people. One has but to  watch the gleam in the eye of a holy-  mouth-man, as he jabs an awl into an  exposed nerve, to suspect that a certain  amount of sadism is involved. If this can be  established, a very interesting pattern  emerges, for most of the population shows  definite masochistic tendencies. It was to  these that Professor Linton referred in discussing a distinctive part of the daily  body ritual which is performed only by  men. This part of the rite involves scraping  and lacerating the surface of the face with a  sharp instrument. Special women's rites are  performed only four times during each  lunar month, but what they lack in  frequency is made up in barbarity. As part  of this ceremony, women bake their heads  in small ovens for about an hour. The  theoretically interesting point is that what  seems to be a preponderantly masochistic  people have developed sadistic specialists.
    The medicine men have an imposing  temple, or latipso, in every community of  any size. The more elaborate ceremonies  required to treat very sick patients can only  be performed at this temple. These ceremonies involve not only the thaumaturge  but a permanent group of vestal maidens  who move sedately about the temple  chambers in distinctive costume and head-  dress.
    The latipso ceremonies are so harsh that  it is phenomenal that a fair proportion of  the really sick natives who enter the temple The concept of culture  ever recover. Small children whose indoctrination is still incomplete have been  known to resist attempts to take them to  the temple because "that is where you go to  die." Despite this fact, sick adults are not  only willing but eager to undergo the  protracted ritual purification, if they can  afford to do so. No matter how ill the  supplicant or how grave the emergency, the  guardians of many temples will not admit a  client if he cannot give a rich gift to the  custodian. Even after one has gained admission and survived the ceremonies, the  guardians will not permit the neophyte to  leave until he makes still another gift.
    The supplicant entering the temple is  first stripped of all his or her clothes. In  everyday life the Nacirema avoids exposure  of his body and its natural functions.  Bathing and excretory acts are performed  only in the secrecy of the household shrine,  where they are ritualized as part of the  body-rites. Psychological shock results  from the fact that body secrecy is suddenly  lost upon entry into the latipso. A man,  whose own wife has never seen him in an  excretory act, suddenly finds himself naked  and assisted by a vestal maiden while he  performs his natural functions into a sacred  vessel. This sort of ceremonial treatment is  necessitated by the fact that the excreta are  used by a diviner to ascertain the course  and nature of the client's sickness. Female  clients, on the other hand, find their naked  bodies are subjected to the scrutiny,  manipulation and prodding of the medicine  men.
    Few supplicants in the temple are well  enough to do anything but lie on their  hard  beds. The daily ceremonies, like the rites of  the holy-mouth-men, involve discomfort  and torture. With ritual precision, the  vestals awaken their miserable charges each  dawn and roll them about on their beds of  pain while performing ablutions, in the  formal movements of which the maidens are highly trained. At other times they  insert magic wands in the supplicant's  mouth or force him to eat substances which  are supposed to be healing. From time to  time the medicine men come to their clients  and jab magically treated needles into their  flesh. The fact that these temple ceremonies  may not cure, and may even kill the  neophyte, in no way decreases the people's  faith in the medicine men.
    There remains one other kind of  practitioner, known as a "listener." This  witchdoctor has the power to exorcise the  devils that lodge in the heads of people who  have been bewitched. The Nacirema  believe that parents bewitch their own  children. Mothers are particularly suspected of putting a curse on children while  teaching them the secret body rituals. The  counter-magic of the witchdoctor is unusual in its lack of ritual. The patient simply tells the "listener" all his troubles and  fears, beginning with the earliest difficulties  he can remember. The memory displayed  by the Nacirerna in these exorcism sessions  is truly remarkable. It is not uncommon for  the patient to bemoan the rejection he felt  upon being weaned as a babe, and a few  individuals even see their troubles going  back to the traumatic effects of their own  birth.
    In conclusion, mention must be made of  certain practices which have their base in  native esthetics but which depend upon the  pervasive aversion to the natural body and  its functions. There are ritual fasts to make  fat people thin and ceremonial feasts to  make thin people fat. Still other rites are  used to make women's breasts larger if they  are small, and smaller if they are large.  General dissatisfaction with breast shape is symbolized in the fact that the ideal form is virtually outside the range of human   variation. A few women afflicted with almost inhuman hyper-mamrnary development are so idolized that they make a   handsome living by simply going from village to village and permitting the natives to stare at them for a fee.
    Reference has already been made to the   fact that excretory functions are ritualized,   routinized, and relegated to secrecy. Natural reproductive functions are similarly distorted. Intercourse is taboo as a topic and scheduled as an act. Efforts are made to   avoid pregnancy by the use of magical   materials or by limiting intercourse to certain phases of the moon. Conception is   actually very infrequent. When pregnant, women dress so as to hide their condition.  Parturition takes place in secret, without   friends or relatives to assist, and the majority of women do not nurse their infants.
    Our review of the ritual life of the Nacirema has certainly shown them to be a   magic-ridden people. It is hard to un-   derstand how they have managed to exist   so long under the burdens which they have   imposed upon themselves. But even such   exotic customs as these take on real   meaning when they are viewed with the insight provided by Malinowski when he   wrote:
    "Looking from far and above, from our  high places of safety in the developed civilization, it is easy to see all the crudity and irrelevance of magic. But without its power and guidance early man could not   have mastered his practical difficulties as he has done, nor could man have advanced to the higher stages of civilization."

Have you read the whole thing? Good. Now spell 'Nacirema' backwards.

Surprised no? Read through it again and be amazed. :D

Thursday, September 9, 2010

School has gotten better.

Yup. I was just having a bad day that one day. I really like being in school, despite that I don't get to see my friends a lot. :P But me being me, I'll work something out that won't completely kill me.

And Drama class is SO MUCH FUN!!! We play many games and I just wish some people would take this class seriously. Today though, after school my school theater club had a party for those in theater club. It was SO much fun. Do you guys remember Radical from Random Convos? If not, oh well. Well, she was with me and there was dancing competitions on the Wii, music, and APPLES TO APPLES! Gotta love the wacky fun times of Apples to Apples.

Oh! There was something I wanted to do....(((AND DON'T SKIP IT IF YOU'RE NOT A WUSS! Love, Icewolf. ;D)))

I've been doing my devotions and I found some neat stuff. Take a look: (all in the New Living Translation)

Galatians 1:10b:
              If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Romans 9:19-20:
              Well then you might say, "Why does God blame people for not responding? Haven't they simply done what he make them do do?
               No, don't say that. Who are you, a mere human being, to argue with God? Should the thing that was created say to the one who created it, "Why have you made me like this?"

Romans 11:34-35
               "For who can know the Lord's thoughts?
               Who knows enough to give him advice?
               And who has given Him so much
               That He needs to pay it back?"

Okay, let me delve further.

Galatians: Words are eternal. As I go through the bible and read it constantly amazes me how this still can be applied in today's world and yet written LOOOONG ago. Basically he is saying 'pleasing people isn't the goal of being a Christan'. There are so many of us (myself included) that are out to please people. I live my life to make my friends happy, talking to the happily and truthfully. Now he isn't saying never please anyone, he's just saying that isn't what we should be concerned about all the time. The goal of Christ is to share His love with us faulty humans.

Romans 9: Again, this can be applied to today. How many times have us Christians heard, "Well, why is God condemning these people for their natures?" First of all, this ties in with Romans 11, which asks us how on earth can we know so much to challenge God's decisions. And the other part where the created asks "Why have you made me like this?" Let me say, God has a plan for your life, and He created you for that plan. The thing is, are you willing to choose that path?

My personal stand: I can preach this, but can I apply it? I have no idea. Deep down I'm scared of what he might have for me, and throwing out "Well God has a plan and He's in control" can seem all fine in dandy, but it doesn't get rid of my fear. I can't claim to be the perfect Christian, and even though I can throw a bunch of scripture in your face, what would it mean if I couldn't even apply it to myself? I'll pray that He'll show me His plan and hopefully I'll come to accept it.

God bless you all!


Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Yup, book working is on the list

I just got back from writing more of Awaking, and here is sorta a sad scene I wrote.


            The Outcasts trudged onward through the underbrush of the Ever-growing Forest. All Kayla knew was that they were heading north for some reason that was absolutely vital for Xela. It was always Xela this and Xela that. Why was it that Xela seemed to be the center of the Outcast’s lives? She sighed.
            “What’s wrong?”
            Kayla jumped, looking behind her in a startled manor. Flamdura. He looked into her eyes with his vibrant yellow ones. They seemed to say ‘It’s okay, you can tell me anything’. She felt a tug in her heart, and found herself telling him what was going on.
            “I can’t stand all this…magic,” Kayla spat the word. “It is always about Xela isn’t it?” Near the front of the procession, Xela winced. Kayla glared at her form leading the way. If she heard, well. It was her fault after all that she drew others around her like a blanket.
            Flamdura cocked his head, about to say something when suddenly, Xela appeared next to Kayla.
            “Can we talk?” Her fur bristled slightly, and her tail was lashing fiercely. Kayla didn’t need to be a Lethroe to know that she was really angry.
            “S-sure,” she stammered.
            “We’ll be catch up, Tamiki,” Xela called out to him. Tamiki nodded without turning around, and only Aurum looked behind to see who was going with Xela.
            Xela gently nudged Kayla off the path and onto a parallel route out of ear shot. They walked together in silence. Kayla felt the time stretch unbearably, and she just wanted it to stop. Words were better than silence.
            Finally, Xela spoke.
            “I had a talk once with Morano about leaving the Outcasts,” she stated simply, looking into the distance.
            “Morano from the Forest Pack?” Kayla asked, remembering the green wolf. The last she saw him was that night when they had left. They had set Tamiki on edge and he urged (if not in words) the Outcasts to leave.
            “Yeah, right before that battle. I can’t remember some of it but I remember that I…I wanted to leave all you guys. But I wasn’t planning on getting captured,” Xela added with a grin. Kayla couldn’t help but laugh. A sudden rush reminded her of the old days, back when Xela was human and Kayla was her friend. They used to joke and laugh about things that weren’t funny at the time all the time. She smiled at Xela, glad to feel some positive emotion again. Xela smiled back, and continued solemnly.
            “I hoped that if I left that you guys would be normal. Morano set me right on that. And so did Ironamo. But do you think that I want this to happen?” The amused light in her eyes had disappeared and now dark shadows formed in Xela’s face. “Do you think I wanted them to always want to please me and be around me while you were alone and outcast? That I wanted my friend since first grade to suffer the loneliness that was always with me until I became one of you guys?
            “I hated changing who they were. I was na├»ve back then, but now whenever I think about how much Tamiki and Aurum compete…”
            Kayla saw her companion’s face twist in utter and complete self loathing.
            “It makes me sick.”
            When no more words came out of Xela’s mouth, Kayla jolted in realization that she was done. She was all caught up in seeing how Xela felt.
            “I…I’m sorry, Xela, I didn’t know…” Kayla managed to force out. There weren’t really any words to describe the sympathy she felt now. Xela turned sad, dark blue eyes onto her.
            “And as we speak, I’m changing you too. And I hate it!” Xela screamed. “What can I do to stop? What can I do against my own nature?” Her last words ended in a shout, a cry of anguish.

Bwahahahahahaa. Hope you liked it!  

School *sigh*

Let me tell you, I'm not going to have what would be considered 'the best of school years'. That sorta happened last year.

Science: Okay. I know. I don't hate this class, but at the same time, I don't really love it. I hope that it'll improve throughout the year, and if not, I'm doomed.

Drama: BEST CLASS. We play games to learn. GAMES. What isn't awesome about games?!

German: I really really really want to learn and grow in this class, but as of now, I suck. I can't say anything past the alphabet. I was a little disheartened after this class.

Honors American Studies: English and History COMBINED. I like this class, and I can survive, but do we have to rely on Google Docs all the time? Hello, that's what paper is for? That's what TREES are for! All in moderation though. ;D

Lunch: Yes, this is like a class. I'm not to thrilled about it because I have no friends there and the people I sit with are...weird...and very different from me...

Art: I nearly came out of this class crying. Yes, that isn't a typo. Crying. Everybody has natural talent at just flat out drawing, but me. I SKETCH. And when the teacher declared sketching wasn't allowed, I nearly broke down then and there. I can't draw without a rough copy first. It just doesn't work. But one nice kid saw my fail in the trash can and said it was really good, and he meant it because it wasn't like he knew it was mine. So I quickly fished it out when no one was looking and put it in the teacher's pile. *sigh* And I love art, but not "contour lines". Ugh.

Gym: Two words. EVERY. DAY. Da horror!!!
All the jockeys: YAY!
All the peps: WHEEE!
All the emos: *sighs* *glare*
Me: ....eep....

Math: I'm okay with this class. Not much I can rant on.

All in all: I'm doomed.


I feel like going and eating something. But, I also feel like ranting...

How about the topic of writing? Hm? How many writers we got out there? *multiple hands raise* Good.

I find it very hard to write when there seems to be a lot of noise. Well, loud, constant noises always bug me, but still. I just need a quiet area where I can think about what will happen next in my characters world. Also, my characters often seize control of me and say stuff. As you guys have see before...

Oh! Random topic: turkey dogs. There is no better substitute for hot dogs. I personally just cannot eat hot dogs. They are very very gross and I despise them. Turkey dogs on the other hand taste TOTALLY different. It's the imitation of heaven in turkey dog form, and that is pretty dang good right there. :D

I have to go and do work now. :P Bye.



Me wants dis award

So, I'm not quite sure about the rules...but I'd want dis award from Bleah!

Because who else could deal with Inora? You need a bit of creativity to deal with that.  Anyhow, be back soon with another post. Byas!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Yup, it's been a while

Do you guys remember the story Ice Crystals that I was writing a while back? Well I added to it.


            Elocin glared at me once I settled myself onto the dry ground for the night. I couldn’t help but bare my teeth back at her. All day she’d been making it clear (if not in words) that she didn’t like me or my ability to communicate with Shadow and Cougar. Next to me, Shadow sighed in relief. We worked hard today, racing as hard as we could to the institute, but we didn’t get close.
            “See the stars?” Shadow asked, folding his arms behind his head. I rolled on my back, shifting to make my wings more comfortable. I ended up having to turn slightly to one side, so I slightly faced Shadow and the sky above us.
            “Yeah, they’re really shining tonight.” I commented. Cougar’s snores entered the scene, but that didn’t interrupt this moment between Shadow and I.
            “There’s Orion,” Shadow pointed to an area in the sky. I squinted, but I couldn’t see what he was pointing at. When Shadow realized that I wasn’t gasping with excitement, he turned to face me. “Can’t you see him?”
            “Who?” I asked. Shadow inched closer so that his pointing arm was right by my head.
            “See the line of three stars? That’s his belt. Those two stars above it are his arms; the two below are his legs…”
            The sudden image of a mighty man shone in the night sky. His belt stood out greatly, and his arms waved mightily. This time I did gasp.
            “I see him!” I grinned. Shadow let him arm drop between us. He was so close that we were almost touching. I turned my head to look at him. He did the same, and smiled.
            A strange sort of emotion welled inside of me, but the only thing I could do was stare deep into the ice blue of his eyes. He stared right back. Quickly I rolled away, my cheeks burning.
            “Good night, see you in dream-land,” I whispered. A rustle told me that Shadow was getting into a comfortable position. But I was wrong.
            Suddenly, his face was right in front of mine. Stifling a shriek, I barely controlled the urge to leap to my feet. Silently, Shadow raised a hand, and almost hesitantly, stoked my flaming cheek. My eyes stretched wide.  
            “Yo, Shadow, it’s your turn to take night watch.” Elocin called her voice tense.
            “I’ll be there in a minute,” he called back before dropping his voice to say to me, “I’ll join you soon, okay?”
            I mutely nodded, and Shadow did something quite unexpected. Leaning quickly toward me, he planted a small kiss on my forehead. He smiled at me again. As swiftly as he had appeared, Shadow sprung to his feet and took the place of Elocin. She was shaking slightly in the dim starlight. Confused, I fell into a fitful sleep.
            “Finally! I’ve been waiting forever for you guys – hey where’s Shadow?” Cougar pounced at me in the dream. I flapped my great wings hard, rising above his head.
            “He’s taking watch right now, but he says he’ll get here soon,” I explained, easily remaining just out of grasp. Cougar grinned.
            “Well, then, that just gives me more time to talk to you, my confusing feathered friend.”
            I scowled. “I have something to say to you: what the heck was all that about ‘I’m glad we aren’t related’ junk?”
            “Oh, that. Nothing you should be concerned about,” Cougar smiled. I let out an angry breath, but swooped to land.
            Just then, right on my landing spot, Shadow appeared. My descent was already in full progress, so all I could do was scream and crash straight into him. Shadow turned in my direction, and got a face full of feathers and me.
            My cheeks blushed scarlet in embarrassment. The memory of star-gazing five minutes ago suddenly flashed in my mind, and I shoved it down.
            “Sorry!” I squeaked. Shadow only laughed. He gently shoved me off.
            “I guess I deserved that. So, what was that babble you guys were going on about?”
            Irritation welled in the pit of my stomach. I nodded toward Cougar. “Ask him. He was the one giving me cryptic messages.”
            Cougar scuffled the earth with his foot, not daring to look at either one of us. Shadow turned his sharp blue gaze onto him.
            “So, what did you say?”
            “Just some random stuff,” Cougar muttered. “Nothing important.” I snorted.
            “Oh, okay. So ‘I’m glad we aren’t related’ isn’t important and completely random,” I snarled, “At least one half of that statement is true.” My hair flushed a vibrant red and my eyes turned a sharp shade of green. My angry look. Even Shadow took a step back.
            Crystal, back off. There isn’t a need to get that worked up. But ‘I’m glad we’re not related?” Shadow’s hand began to twitch. Cougar saw it, and bared his fangs at Shadow. A growl rippled from his throat.
            Before anything happened, a roar exploded into the air. I screamed reflexively, and instantly the city we always looked over exploded. I could feel the shock wave blast me a few feet away from where I was standing. As I landed, Shadow and Cougar thudded to the ground as well.
            They disappeared. I assumed they had woken with the shock, or had been knocked unconscious due to the fall. Either way, I was left alone. Wind whipped in my face, lashing my hair into my eyes. It was no longer red, but the frightened color of white. Like before, I was moving against my will to crawl over to the edge of the cliff. In the midst of the rubble stood a great, huge, silver-red fox. Its tail lashed, its eyes gleamed, and it released another roar.
            I shivered violently. It was the same fox from before.
            Suddenly, the fox vanished, and then reappeared in front of me. I screamed and scrambled back. The octopus and bird part of me wanted to flee, and the human part of me was frozen to the spot. This fox was about as big as a house, and very demonic.
            It looked at me, cocking its massive head to one side. Finally, it opened its jaws and spoke.
            “Ice child,” was all it said, breathing the very essence of cold onto me. I was overcome with a vision of the artic, surrounded by snow and ice.
            I looked at the beast. There was a sore longing in its eyes as it gazed into the icy distance. Then, it turned to me.
            “Ice child not of three, but actually one,” it murmured. I blinked, my fear forgotten in the change of scenery.
            “You mean I’m not three different animals, but I’m actually just one?”
            The huge fox nodded. “Ice child will find heart animal one day.”
            “Wait a minute,” I held up a hand, “what are you saying?”
            “This is home. Can you feel home?” The simplicity of the fox’s language hit me in full blast, because sometimes words can be useless and the less the better.
            And I could feel a sense of homeliness in this vast area of snow. I looked into the fox’s great green eyes, which were the size of a bowling ball.
            “Yes, I feel at home.”
            “Good. Ice child have to go now. See later.”
            I was torn from my dream and gasped into the waking world. Above me, Shadow relaxed.
            “You wouldn’t wake up,” he explained.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

I rereading that book because I can't get to my school library a lot...actually I can't ever go to our school library due to the fact that I have no study halls because I chose to take three electives: Art, Drama, and German. :P

Anyway, here are a few quotes that I really liked:

" 'Politics,' she says, 'A toy for little rich kids that they won't let anyone else play with.' "

"What do you drink
What do you read
At breakfast
And I know who
You are."

I really liked the first one because it just made me laugh at how true it was. And the second one is just so awesome. I read a variation of books and drink milk in the morning. But that quote is so awesome it deserves a tag!!!

What do you read in the morning?
Usually manga, but sometimes it's the book I was probably staying up late to read. 

What do you drink in the morning?
Milk. I can't have orange juice because it makes me sick even though I love it. 

Name an unusual meal you sometimes eat in the morning.
Left-over Chinese food. It's so good in the morning. 

Create a breakfast food. 
Triple Decker Chocolate Pancakes. *yum*

Do you read at all in the morning?
Yup! Can't ever have breakfast without reading. 

What is a common thing you eat in the morning.
Toast. With butter and jelly. Or cereal. 

Tag 4 People:
Golden Eagle

Thursday, September 2, 2010


I drew this last night cause I was yeah. And the I edited on Picnik. FUN!

Bwahaha. Just cause it looks awful in real form. I destroyed Axel...Xion doesn't even look like herself, and I ROCKED AT DRAWING ROXAS!!! LOOK AT HIM!!! LOOOOOK!