The Censorship of Huck Finn

            Do you believe that authors should be censored? While we are at it, should we throw out the first amendment altogether? A publisher has come out with a censored version of Mark Twain’s classic American novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. In this version, the publisher has switched the “n-word” with the word slave. The reason for this is to make schools feel more at ease with having the book in their schools. I do not believe anyone’s words should be tampered with, especially those of an American treasure like Mark Twain’s timeless classic, because it changes the power of the novel, it does not erase the “n-word” from America’s past, and it is unconstitutional.

 Mark Twain’s novel has grittiness to its language that gives the book its lower class American feel. Twain wanted the reader to feel like they were in the shoes of a poor child in the American south. So instead of writing everything in proper English, he wrote using slang words and phrases that were part of the common vernacular of the time. This was not something often done at the time Mark Twain wrote this novel. However, after reading it many believe that it gave the book more power and feeling then if he had written using only accepted vocabulary. The reason we want children to read this novel is for its powerful moving story.

Changing a word does not erase that word or its meaning from life. Taking the “n-word” out of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn does not mean the word no longer exists. The word still has the past in American life that made it offensive to begin with. Keeping the “n-word” in the novel can teach a lesson to a student that is never easy to learn. That lesson is why and how a word like the “n-word” can become so hated. Also, why someone should never use such a word like that while referring to others. It is an emotional and sometimes painful lesson to learn, but it is one that should not be forgotten or over looked.

Taking an author’s words and changing them to not offend other people is censorship, and censorship is unlawful according to the Constitution of the United States. The change being made is one to make others feel more comfortable. That is not a reason to change anyone’s words. The first amendment is to the freedom of speech. This is exactly the kind of protection that amendment is for. If anyone objects lawfully to this change in the school, then I believe that they could take it to the Supreme Court to have it changed back.

Finally, author’s words are like a painters brush stroke, or a note in a musical piece. You would not want to take out the notes in a Mozart’s sonata, nor censor parts of a painting from Rembrandt. Mark Twain is not here to defend his words, nor his he able to give permission to change them. Without his presence it falls to us to protect his legacy.

Thoughts on the Boston Massacre

                 There are many questions surrounding the famous Boston Massacre. How did it begin? Was there an order given to fire on the crowd? What affect did it have on the aftermath? Looking at depositions and facts collected from people that were there, you can begin to piece this event together and find some of these answers. I intend to show that there was no order given to fire, and that an object thrown from the crowd was the spark that ignited the incident.

First, it is important to know the events that led up to the Boston Massacre. Tensions between the British and the American colonist began to rise after the French and Indian War, known by some as the Seven Year War. In 1763 at the end of the war there were British soldiers all through the colonies. Most were stationed in people’s homes. A new law passed by the government did not allow for expansion by the colonist past the Appalachian Mountains. These things forced on the American colonist made them feel as if they were lesser citizens then those of the British Isles. Furthermore, the British needed to find a way to pay for what they had spent fighting the French and Indian War. They began to tax the American colonist heavily. Taxes on all imports such as sugar, food, and anything else except tea started to get the colonist in an uproar. The Stamp Act in 1765, which is an act for granting and applying certain stamp duties, and other duties, in the British colonies and plantations in America, towards further defraying the expenses of defending, protecting, and securing the same; and for amending such parts of the several acts of parliament relating to the trade and revenues of the said colonies and plantations, as direct the manner of determining and recovering the penalties and forfeitures therein mentioned, was so unpopular that it was overturned just two years later.

The town of Boston itself had been particularly bitter since 1768 when Britain sent two regiments to Boston to enforce the Laws of Parliament. This infuriated the people of Boston. “They will not find a rebellion, they might in fact make one.” said Benjamin Franklin. The tensions of the Bostonians rose rapidly at this time. This lead to many confrontations between the colonist and the British soldiers. Therefore, in March the tensions came to bloodshed.

On March 5, 1770 a group of Bostonians were traveling up King's Street. They began to heckle a sentry in front of the town custom house. The heckling began to escalate, colonists began gathering in groups. Then a group of British soldiers came to the defense of the sentry. After that the reports begin to vary.

In depositions taken from the incident, it is clear that a stick or other object was thrown from the crowd knocking down one of the soldiers. Seven different people gave accounts of an object or objects being thrown from the crowd. What makes this even more prevalent was the fact that there were people on both sides of the political divide commenting on the sticks. Edward Gerrish who claimed to start the argument with the sentry said, “Saw some persons with sticks coming up Quaker Lane.”, a man who was obviously anti-British talking about men with sticks. On the other side was Captain Preston himself who claimed, “While I was thus speaking, one of the soldiers, having received a severe blow from a stick.” A woman named Jane Whitehouse who seemed not to have any political affiliation said, “I saw one man take a chunk of wood from under his coat throw it at a soldier and knocked him down.”

The best evidence of the order to fire not being given is the fact that the shots were not fired at once. Muskets were not as accurate as the later rifling guns. Because of this it was normal military behavior to fire all the guns at once. The famous engraving by Paul Revere showed all the soldiers firing their weapons at once on the command to fire. Revere not being there this is probably how he imagines the event. According to the depositions, as many as five people recall hearing one shot after another before more shots started firing. “Half a minute after first gun to second, same to third.” said Ebenezer Hinkley. Robert Goodall said, “They all fired one after another.” It seems clear that they had not fired all at once the way it was known to occur with the old style muskets.

The thought that the British soldiers randomly fired on and murdered innocent civilians is probably from the way leaders of the revolution used the event. Those leaders got anti-British sentiments whipped into a frenzy. After a few years the colonist got the revolution they wanted, and the Boston Massacre was one of the major reasons for it. In 1775, a month before the battle of Lexington, a ceremony was held at the location of the Boston Massacre. At the ceremony Joseph Warren said, “Take heed, ye infant babes, lest, whilst your streaming eyes fixed on the ghastly corpse, your feet slide on the stones bespattered with your father's brains.”

Response to Grass

 GRASS

by: Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)

ILE the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo,

Shovel them under and let me work--

I am the grass; I cover all.

 

And pile them high at Gettysburg

And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.

Shovel them under and let me work.

Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:

What place is this?

Where are we now?

 

I am the grass.

Let me work.

“Pile the bodies high” says Carl Sandburg giving us a dark and dramatic image right at the beginning of the poem. What did Sandburg mean by Grass with its imagery of death and nature? I believe that the author was meaning to show us the effect that time and nature has to have in covering up the destructive force of mankind.

The destructive force of man is evident in the poem. Its meaning is given to us by the mention of well known and important places where a battle has taken place. The author gives the never ending feel of destruction by placing the battles, in chronological order, from two different centuries. Austerlitz and Waterloo taking place in the beginning of the 19^th century, Gettysburg later on during the Civil War, and Ypres and Verdun in the early 20^th century during World War II.

It is written from the point of view of grass, almost as if nature itself was talking to you. Saying that no matter what damage you can inflect time can cover it up. The last stanza is very short and to the point. It rounds the poem out and ties it all together. It gives the impression that in the end there is just nature.

The three stanzas of the poem gives a clear point at the beginning and the end. It moves you to almost a futile look at what we as humans do. Nothing that we as mankind can do will last forever.

Developing Self-Worth

               I have had a hard time in my life developing my self-worth.  Until the age of 28 I thought of myself as useless.  Almost as if I was a waste of space.  Fortunately through my twenties I developed a sense of being that made me feel important and loved.  The first was my love of writing, and the second was my family.

               My writing developed out of a need to express myself when I had no other way to do so.  It is always hardest on the middle child.  You hear that saying a lot, especially when you are a middle child.  My older brother received a huge amount of attention because he was always the star.  My younger brother was given even more attention.  My mother felt that he needed to be protected from his horrible older brothers, being the baby and all of five years younger than us.  So for a long time I felt I had no voice in which to speak.

               In high school I had an English teacher that made me keep a journal.  I had to write in it three times a week.  Suddenly everything I want to say was coming out on paper.  The three times a week became four times, the four became five, and so on until I became writing something every day.  After high school I found it hard to find a place to display my writing.  This was a few years before blogs became common place on the internet.  I began entering contests for poems and short stories.  There was little success to be found.  A few poems, and one short story, got published.  However, none of them were placed high enough to land me in the money. 

               I spent the last few years writing short films for local indie film makers.  It was a revelation to have people laugh at the things I wrote.  Listening to audiences applauds a film I have written gave me more confidence and self-worth then I have known.  Now at the age of 31 I decided that I was going to go to college.  I wanted to do this to strengthen my biggest flaw grammar, and to find better ways to have my voice be heard.

               In my younger days family was a thing to dread.  As I mention before I was a middle child, and as such ignored most of the time.  Things became much worse before my 11^th birthday when my father fell off a tree he was working on.  He suffered minor brain damages.  The savings my parents had dried up fast due to the cost of hospitals.  Life at home became bad after that, and a few years later my parents were divorced.

               My mother wanted to have something that was us, just her and her three boys.  So on every Christmas Eve we would start with a candle light service at the First Baptist Church of Pleasanton.  Then we would have pizza at a restaurant called Pizza Inn.  And last we would drink apple cider and open the presents we would give to each other.  All this I thought was a chore, something I was being made to do when I rather have been left alone.  Looking back I guess I thought that about everything I did.  I was not what anyone would have called a happy child.  Nevertheless, I did it all anyway, because it made my mother happy.

               This last year I went up to my older brother’s house for Christmas Eve like I do every year.  The apple cider has been replaced by beer and whiskey, and my brother makes homemade pizza now.  Instead of the candle light service my brother does a pray before the meal.  This year he mention how we have been doing this since our mother gave us this tradition, and it was her that kept us a family.  That pray made me realize that I belong to something bigger than myself, I was part of a family.  I thank them for being there for me and I am thankful for having an opportunity to write about it.

              

The Car Sped Off... (2nd half)

It was a two bedroom, one bath apartment in the city.  I hadn’t seen Brandon it two years, not counting Christmas.  I was in town because I wanted for him to meet my girlfriend Lacy.  Brandon’s roommate let us in, a big guy named Charles, and we sat in the living room waiting for him to come out of the shower.
Brandon came out wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt that said, “Define Girlfriend”.  His hair was still wet from the shower, and it looked as if he had gain some weight since he moved here.  We stood up when he walked in.
“Brandon this is my girlfriend Lacy, Lace this is Brandon my brother.” I said.
“Hi, it is nice to meet you.” Brandon said while shaking her hand.
“I’m glad to meet you too.” Lacy said while shaking back.
“So, what do you have plan for us this evening?” I asked.
“There is a little pub just a little ways up the road.  I thought we would go there and have some drinks.” Brandon answered.
“Sounds good, should we take your car or ours?” I asked.
“Since I know where we are going, I think I should drive.” he replied.
“Let’s go then.” Lacy said.
The pub was a little English one called Sherlock’s.  It had a giant British flag hanging on one of the walls. The music was a live band singing cover songs of any poplar Indie rock they could think of.  Low lighting for what they would say is for atmosphere, but I think it is just to cover up the stains and cracks on the wall.
They sat in an area of couches.  There is nothing classy about it, but there was noting classy about any of the places I drink.
Brandon ordered two Dos XX’s for us and a Rum and Coke for Lacey.  He then started to ask her questions, your basic questions. Where did we meet? How long have we known each other? Why would you be interested in a idiot like my brother? You know, basic stuff.
“I need to use the little girl’s room.” Lacey said.  She got up and I watched her go.  When I turned back I saw Brandon ordering another round from the cocktail waitress.   The song being played was a hard rock version of a Scottish folk song.  I was thinking about what people from Scotland would think of it when Brandon asked me something.
“Huh? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” I said.
“I said, how is school going?” Brandon asked.
“Well, you know…”
“No. I don’t know.  That is why I asked.”
“I’m not going to go back.  In fact I’m not finishing this semester.  I dropped out, is what I’m saying” I said reluctantly.
He just sat there looking at me thoughtfully.  I tried to ignore it.  I tried to find other things in the pub to look at.  After what was an eternity, or about 15 seconds which ever comes first, I turn back to face him.
“What?” I said.  He just shrugged in response.  “Stop looking at me like that.”
“How should I look at you?” He asked.
“Just… not like that.”
“Are you upset with me, or yourself?”
“Shut up!”
“Okay…” he held his hands up. “I ordered another round, so finish up that beer.”
Lacey return and the night went on like before.  Only I started to drink a lot more than I had been.  And as the night wore on things got a little… blurry.
I remember the first couple of shots, but not any of the ones after that.  I also remember Lacey saying something about slowing down, but I can’t completely recall the details.
We headed out to the car, Brandon asking me if I was okay.  Lacey said that we should get a cab.  I told them that it was stupid idea, I was fine, and there was no way I would leave my car here overnight.  After much debating I relented to letting Brandon drive us.  He had said that while he was drunk he was at least better off than me.
I climbed into the back seat, Lacey took the passenger, where I started to drift in and out of consciences.  Lacey was directing Brandon where to go.  They came up to where you change highways.  It was one of those curvy off and on ramps.  They came up to the yield sign, I knew it well.  There were many a times where I almost had a…
It felt like a house had fell on him.

The car was almost out of sight…  Things could have been different that night.  Brandon said.  Sean knew that he was right, he was the one that should have been driving that night.
Actually none of us should have been driving that night.  Sean knew that was right also.  If he hadn’t of been so angry at Brandon that night, he would have been more open to reason.  Instead he got mad because Brandon just stated the obvious.
Now, what are you going to do about this situation? What can I do?  It’s over, I know that.
Do you think I would be here if it is over?  You…  You are just a figment of my imagination.
That’s right! So do you believe I would be here if you  didn’t truly believe that it wasn’t over?  You are right Brandon.  Oh no, what have I done?
Nothing that you can’t fix. So Go! Be the man I always knew you could be and go fix it!
I took off running to my car, I stopped turn back to the image of Brandon in my head and said out loud.  “I am sorry you died in that car wreak that night.”
I know, but we all have to go sometime.
“I’ll never forgive myself.” I told him.
So don’t let this me one more thing you won’t forgive.
I jumped into my car a went after her.  I drove really fast and caught up to her quickly.  I flashed my lights and she pulled over.  When I got up to her car she was getting out.
Lacey looked to me the most beautiful woman in the world.  Even though she had been crying and her eyes were puffy and red.
“I’m sorry, baby.” I told her.
“Why?” she said.
“I was running away, like  I always do when things get tough.” I noticed my voice started to crack. “I never finish anything, but I won’t let it happen to you.”
“You freak out when I told you.  How will I know you won’t just change your mind again?”
“I didn’t know what to do.  I mean you just kind of threw the I’m pregnant thing at me out of nowhere.  But I promise, I will not freak out on you again.  Well, at least not on propose.”
She smiled, then hung him as hard as she could.
“So,” she said, “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, “ but I won’t give up.  Not on this.”

Turn Around and There You Are

I turn around and there you are

No that was a shadowy light of a star

It burns with the brightness of a dream

I find myself awake in my sleep

Fighting against the certainty of reap

Relaxing in to the rush of a stream

I fight against the on coming storm

A world of strange looking for the norm

In my head you're near in truth far

It has been a day for a hundred years

Why do I fight say my inner fears?

I turn around and there you are

Blank Paper

In front of me on the table

Single blank sheet of white paper

Dreams and desires become able

Quickly down or up with vapor

Stories of goblins and ghouls

Falling below or rising above

Ascending heroes, descending fools

Romantic scenes, unrequited love

Strangers invited in my mind

Words rolling through the street

Praying I won't be left behind

Filling the void in the blank sheet

Running Out of Night

I'm long past lonely, I'm long past right

You and me are here and the ends in sight

Can't you feel the rhythm beating away?

Can't you hear the melody, and what the song has to say?

Here we are, running out of night

It's on the horizon a new day dawns

Hold me quickly now it won't be to long

Some things in life aren't meant to last

Like a shooting star we're burning up the past

Here we are, running out of night

Do you remember the moon and the stars?

When we danced in the headlights of my old broken down car

But no dance last forever so here we are

I want to keep fighting but we're running out of night

I'm long past lonely, I'm long past right

You and me are here and the ends in sight

Can't you feel the rhythm beating away?

Can't you hear the melody, and what the song has to say?

Here we are, running out of night

Texas Saturday Night

Standing on the back porch in the evening air

Watching the smoke drift past the porch light

Cigarette on my lips, wind through my hair

Thoughts on my mind; a Texas Saturday night

Floor's Country Store and dance hall

Chasing down a shot of whisky with a Shiner Light

A smile and wink at a girl by the wall

Another great time; a Texas Saturday night

A truck, a girl, and a road with no name

Pulling off to the side just out of sight

For an impromptu dance in the rain

Beholding beauty; a Texas Saturday night

The cracks of cue balls fill the room

In the background Waylon Jennigs sings

Then good feelings start to bloom

Thoughts on my mind; a Texas Saturday night