Mom’s Guide to the Galaxy

This week is more of an advertisement for my mom’s blog than a standard post on my own, but hey, it’s cool and it’s geeky, so I’m counting it.

Almost two years ago, my mother decided to join me in the land of weekly blog posts (something that she is much better at keeping up with than I am), and not just as my editor. She got her own website, entitled Mom’s Guide to the Galaxy, where she talks about, well, everything.

Unlike Random Geek Child, Mom’s Guide to the Galaxy is largely direct personal information. She talks about our garden, our cats, karate, books… like I said, kind of just everything. In general, her writing is more cohesive and better at explaining things than mine, probably because my mind jumps from A to G with nothing in between, and then I have to try and fill in the blank. But whatever the reason, I find her writing to be surprisingly enjoyable. I mean, I always knew she could write fiction (see the Papa’s Gift series, part 1 here) but she also somehow manages to make the real world seem interesting, a difficult feat indeed. I won’t gives you specific examples for that one, since they make up most of the website. Go find them yourself.

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Godly Brothers (Light MCU Spoilers)

Sticking with the poetry theme, a free verse poem I wrote about the relationship between Thor and Loki in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Some of it is made up on my part, some of it is canon, and as such there are some small spoilers involved.

My name is Thor
God of Thunder
My brother is Loki
God of Mischief
Worthy of his title
He’s always stabbing me

“Ooh, a snake!”
I love snakes
I pick it up
Whoops, it’s Loki
“Mmblargh!”
He stabs me

Scavenger Hunt in Asgard
Gotta find the item and bring it back
“There it is!”
And… it’s Loki
“Mmblargh!”
He stabs me

“I’m off to the dining hall.”
Walking down the corridor
Round the corner
Look, there’s Loki
“Mmblargh!”
He stabs me

“We won!”
Battle’s over
Celebrating
Hug Loki
He grins
And stabs me

Older now
About to be king
Responsibility and all that jazz
No time to be stabbed
Loki’s smiling from the sidelines
Bet he wishes he could stab me

Loki’s dead
Wait, no he isn’t, just mad
Fighting on a building
“We can. Together.”
My brother is still in there somewhere
He stabs me

Gotta save Jane from an elf
We need a plan
Loki will pretend to be one of them
We can trick them, together
This time I know it’s coming
He stabs me

Stuck on Sakaar
Have to escape
Loki’s helping
Or not
Planning a betrayal
I zap him so he won’t stab me

Apparently we have a sister
Oh joy, she’s evil
Fighting side by side
Against her undead minions
Loki’s dueling some
He stabs them

On our way back to Earth
Ship gets boarded
Half our people slaughtered
Killer’s an old friend of Loki’s
It should be no surprise
He tries to stab him

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Icarus Laughed

I’m in the mood to share some free-verse poetry with you this week, so I’ve chosen a favorite poem of mine that I’ve encountered in a couple of different places on the internet recently. (Edit: to clarify, this is a poem I found, not a poem I wrote. All credit goes to the original source, here.) As far as I know, it doesn’t have a title. Enjoy!

Here is what they don't tell you:

Icarus laughed as he fell.
Threw his head back and
yelled into the winds,
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.

(There is a bitter triumph
in crashing
when you should be
soaring.)

The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
Feathers floated like prayers
past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
Death breathed burning kisses
against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
The sun painted everything
in shades of gold.

(There is a certain beauty
in setting the world on fire
and watching from the center
of the flames.) 
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Lessons of the Holocaust

Sticking with last week’s theme of the Holocaust, here’s the other article I wrote for that project:

We’ve all heard about the Holocaust, a systematic mass slaughter conducted by the Nazis in Germany before and during the second World War that left approximately 17 million supposedly inferior humans dead. This atrocity was so lacking in some way to aptly describe its magnitude, it warranted the creation of its own word, “genocide,” which refers to the deliberate killing of a large group of people, especially those of a particular ethnic group or nation.

The Holocaust was not actually the first genocide, but it was the first to fall so significantly into the public eye and likely the largest. Similar horrors have been happening for centuries, with examples as far back as the Greeks and Romans, and in Biblical reference to the relentless and unjust persecution of the Jewish people. More recent examples include the contemporary Armenian, Assyrian and Greek genocides during and after World War I carried out by the Ottoman government in an attempt to remove those ethnic groups from their population. They had approximately 1.5 million, 150,000 to 300,000, and between 450,000 and 750,000 casualties, respectively, most of them civilians and rightfully Ottoman citizens. Still, none of these even neared the atrocious death count of the Holocaust that brought such an issue to the world stage.

Since the discovery of this massacre, several similar genocides have occurred in various places across the world. There was the Cambodian genocide of 1975, which lasted over 3 and a half years and killed between 1.671 and 1.871 million, which was 21-24% of Cambodia’s population at the time. Another example is the Rwandan genocide against the Tutsi in 1994, which left between half a million to a million dead, a devastating death toll even before considering that it occured over only a hundred days, or just little over three months.

You’d think that, after such a horrendous act as the Holocaust, humanity would have learned its lesson. So why hasn’t it?

Unfortunately, it likely has. The lesson is just not what we would have hoped. Instead of discouraging such a thing from ever happening again, the Holocaust set a precedent, showing that it was and is humanly possible to systematically dispose of people you oppose or consider inferior. It also suggests that the international community is not likely to interfere so long as the details of the situation are kept out of the public spotlight, or worse, that the international community simply won’t care, a combination of which seem to have been the case during the Holocaust.

The other incidents reinforce this message. In each of the Armenian, Assyrian and Greek genocides, which I’m overarchingly going to refer to as the Ottoman genocides for simplicity, and in the Rwandan genocide, while the rest of the world was at least somewhat aware of what was happening, they made no impactful move to stop it. In the Cambodian genocide, at least, they had some excuse, since they didn’t really have much intel on what was happening, but that too sends a dangerous message.

While this may seem downcasting and pessimistic, it is important to note that just because humanity has learned the wrong lesson does not mean that it cannot learn the right one. Perhaps, if those whose hatred, anger and fear may lead them to commit these atrocities have not been discouraged from such actions by examples like those I’ve shared with you today, but instead empowered, then it now falls on the rest of us to learn our lesson from history. To learn that we cannot be complicit in these actions, even if only by inaction, and that it is our obligation to learn and see all that we can, and where we see these wrongs, resist them. If the rest of the world hadn’t sat back and let these horrible things happen then they may not have, and it is my hope that in the future they won’t, because we will learn from our prior mistakes and not repeat them, but instead stand and fight these injustices.

To quote the Bataillon de Chasseurs Ardennais motto: “Résiste et Mords!” (“Resist and Bite!”)

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The Unseen Purpose of the Concentration Camps

Now that I’ve run out of old poetry, I figured I’d continue on the World War II/Holocaust chain of thought from about a month ago, when I brought up my granddad’s account of the Blitz. This time, it’s an article I wrote for school about the medical experiments conducted at the camps.

We are taught that the concentration camps were used to kill the Nazi’s victims and enemies. They also served to incarcerate people whom the Nazis believed were a security threat and to exploit forced labor. The lesser known use of these camps, however, was medical experimentation.

    With theoretically “inferior” subjects in the camps, doctors could experiment without worrying about the patient’s wellbeing. They were, for all attempts and purposes, disposable, allowing the medical personnel to operate at risk to the subject’s life without qualms. As a result, many of those who were experimented on during this time did not survive the tests, or were severely injured in the process.

    They did a combination of experiments based in curiosity, efficiency tests, and attempts at finding cures and solutions to problems without risking the lives of their own in the process. The term “curiosity” here sounds innocent; believe me, it was not. They put twins through inhumane tests, compared how different ethnicities withstood various diseases, and collected heterochromatic eyes. They tested efficiency of their various methods of murdering people and of sterilization.

    As for the other tests, they did everything from infecting patients with deadly diseases like typhus, tuberculosis, yellow fever, and more, and then trying to cure them, to bone grafting attempts, to exposing them to chemical weaponry in hope of finding antidotes, to forcing them to drink seawater (attempting to make it drinkable) to freezing them (finding a treatment for hypothermia) to killing them with simulated high altitudes (what altitude is safe for pilots to parachute from?).

    It is unknown exactly how many people were experimented on in the camps. There is a minimum of 15,754 documented victims, but it is likely that there were many more, considering the Nazis’ notoriety for leaving these kind of statistics undocumented.

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“I Am”

I saved this one for last in my poetic arsenal, because it seems to me that it means more to project an image of yourself than it does to make metaphorical connections between other things. It’s amazing for me to look back on my younger self and see what has changed, and while I’m not going to discuss that in a post, nor am I going to write a more up-to-date version of “I Am,” I do want to share this one with you.


I AM

I am talented and polite
I wonder if any place is truly peaceful
I hear birds chirping outside my window
I see a huge pile of stuffed animals in my bedroom
I want to win the Blog Cabin in Idaho
I am talented and polite

I pretend that I am a veterinarian and I use my stuffed animals as my patients
I feel satisfied
I touch the clouds
I worry about my parents’ well-being
I cry at the Arizona Memorial

I am talented and polite
I understand that my room needs cleaning
I say that nothing is perfect
I dream of finding a new world and making a huge empire
I try to get good grades on my report card
I hope that people never stop reading books
I am talented and polite

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The Sensing Feelings Poem

One of our poems was a project where we were supposed to take a feeling and correlate it to each of the five commonly accepted human senses, and a color. I don’t know why I wrote upset in connection with dark blue, since dark blue is actually a wonderful color. I’m not sure what I would rewrite it as in retrospect, though, so I’m just going to give you the original work from my 9-year old self. Enjoy! (Or don’t, since this is supposed to make you think about being upset.)

Upset
If upset was a color,
It would be as dark blue as the deepest parts of the ocean.
If upset was a taste,
It would be as sour as eating an entire jar of sauerkraut at once.
If upset could be seen,
It would be me in a dark room surrounded by homework.
If upset was a smell,
It would reek like rotten eggs.
If upset was a sound,
It would rumble like thunder.
If upset was a color,
It would be dark blue.
Upset
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Crabs in Fall?

Since I have 2 really short poems on hand, I’ve decided to just put them both in the same post. The problem is, they’re almost entirely unrelated, hence the title of this week’s insanity. Introducing crabs and autumn leaves, in that order! (In case you couldn’t tell by the completely different topics of the poems.)

Crab
Hard, mean
Scuttling, pinching, hiding
Attempting to pinch you
Crustacean

Leaves
Dry, pretty
Falling, crackling, crunching
Trees, ground, wax, collection
Blowing, fluttering, twirling
Red, orange
Foliage

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“Green”

Heads up, I’ll be following last week’s fourth grade poem theme for a few weeks to come. Sorry in advance. Anyhow, we were told to choose a color and write a bunch of similes about it, and for some inexplicable reason I chose green instead of blue, even though I’m reasonably sure blue was still my favorite color back then (as opposed to now, since I don’t have a favorite color anymore, though I generally prefer blues and greens – big shock there).


Green
Green is the celery Mom is cutting for a stir fry dinner.
Green is the grass on a summer day..
Green is a tree swaying in a spring storm
Green is the money I collect in my allowance
Green is a bitter lime tickling my tongue.
Green is the Jell-O jiggling in a clear plastic bowl.
Green is a turtle trying to cross the road.
Green is the steamed broccoli on my ceramic plate.
Green is a saguaro cactus protecting its hidden fruit.
Green is the Grinch stealing the best Christmas.
Green is a striped shirt camouflaging into the grass.
Green is the envy you feel when your best friend gets $50 for Christmas.
Green
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“My Mind Is Like A Cheetah”

I’ve been sorting through old Google Docs of mine and found a rather large collection of poems that I wrote for fourth grade. I thought it might be fun to share some of those with you. The first of these and the one I want to share today is titled “My Mind Is Like A Cheetah.”

My mind is like a cheetah
speeding to find the correct answers.
My hands are like minions
doing all of my work for me.
My eyes are observant as lizards.
My feet are like my chauffeurs
taking me everywhere I need to go.
My heart holds my creativity
which is tie-dye as the rainbow.
I live in books
and eat the words.

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