05-21-2015, 08:33 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2015, 08:34 PM by Chosen.)
Alright so for my last AP Language essay we had to write a satirical essay (Rather short sadly) on a topic of any choice, below is what I did. Enjoy , also sidenote this was written in about 30 minutes before I needed it done , but I liked the end result.
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Now who really leads us?
Many years ago, when Al Gore invented the internet and UFO's were a sign of man's impending doom – or was that still Al Gore – society started to focus on the next race after Space and Destruction . . . Technology. This race led to many things generations see as a necessity: Phones, Internet, Computers, Star Bucks , and many other capitalistic spawns. Phones have become the only way mankind can communicate instantaneously and clearly. These not-so-little devices allow for clear and private conversations that nobody could ever find out about , unless they're your mother. These devices let us free up many days a week for things such as : Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter. A person just commented and liked your photo about a disfigured pizza slice from the mall? Well they deserve a gold start and a marathon of being Facebook stalked. Your selfie you spent two hours preping for and making sure the lighting is perfect and the lens flare is on and you tweeted before hand a “#Selfie #BombsAway” did not get a single comment? Time to lock yourself away because nobody can understand that feeling of alienation and the only thing who does understand is this phone. Siri knows how you feel – as a complex AI program made from the leftovers of OnStar (s)he certainly knows what alienation feels like – and (s)he is the only one who can help you through this unbearable torture. Second to the devil's contract – obviously the phone companies are the devil himself in disguise – is the ethereal Internet. A sentient being of no emotions and hatred of human life, it has but one goal in life. . . to make sure your 44 hours a week are not wasted on the outside world for that is unforgiving and cruel. Personally, the internet creates a great hub of ideas for people to share for free ,or for a subscription of $1 plus your SSN, it is the online black market that has no reals nor any regulations whats-so-ever , but for the rotten bunch they see it as the Devil himself, reincarnated selling contracts to a glorious machine that requires only one invaluable object . . . your soul. This deal seems fair as many people are willing to sell their soul to a government , so why not sell it to an omnipotent leader that neither cares what race you are or your age. Just that you give it the attention it deserves. The radicals in office can not witness , nor shall they, the almighty that is serving a machine – this was the original intent for the internet to be Skynet – as it does not need our food , water, oil, sun, trees, the very natural things that define what our life was revolved around. The age of man comes closer to this end because as gullible as we were thinking we created machines originally to solve our problems , but as we kept going down this chrome-plated road we never saw what our end was for we were already allured by the limitless possibilities made from a spider-web of servers hosting data we could upload or download at the press of a button.
We had to do the same exact thing in my AP Lang class and one of my friends wrote about UFOs to NASA xD. Mine was to the magic clean eraser people and i was wondering why the magic wasnt working.
05-21-2015, 08:47 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2015, 08:52 PM by Terran.)
I skimmed that and slightly vomited in my mouth. This was an old story I had to write for school and only had, like, a day to do it, so I did it. We were allowed to go as lengthy as we want, "within reason" and the only other rules it had to contain elements of "non-realism". I think I was like 13 or 14 when I wrote it. Well, typed it. Everyone else in my class wrote theirs out, but I typed and printed mine if I remember because FUCK writing. I think I got it done in about an hour and a half, while referencing Dragonlance books. At least I think that was when I wrote it. Hard to remember.
The day was a well spent one. Though the road was long, the prosperity was well worth the travel. Not a single cloud in the sky, nor a vermin on the road. It all seemed so smooth and clear...Until night fell. But, before that, let me begin with this morning...
I awoke to clear sunlight and a soft wind. My wagon was beside me, and my twin, ever-faithful horses, Prance and Skitter aside it. The air had a sweet tinge of promise, as if the winds bade me good fortune. I lounged in my bedroll for a few moments, under the blue sky, until the sun reached the peak of the trees. At that signal I stretched my back, and prepared to clean up my bedding. Afterwards, I hitched the horses and mounted the wagon. I had a busy day today...
I knicked my mares back on the road, and bade them to begin the long treck. As I sat on that seat, which I have sat on many, many times afor, I pondered things which required pondering. Good fortune would always take a turn for the worse, as would bad fortune. One must follow the other, so say the fates.
A pitched whistle awoke me from my trance, as I hurridly started to speed up the horses, fearing bandits. The voice behind me shouted something incorigible, yet I slowed, feeling it as a friendly one...Hopefully. Not that I could outride bandits anyhow. The stranger rode up beside me, effortlessly matching my old mares - A great white stallion, and an even greater man astride it, siddled up aside my wagon. Tipping my hat to the Cloud Guard, I greeted him. "Hullo, M'lord. Fine day, twixt it not?"
"Indeed it is" came the smooth reply. "What be you hauling off, merchant?" the question had the obvious air of regality, as the Cloud Guards were regarded as nobility, for their strength was the divine powers of the Gods themselves. "Just baubles and trinkets, ha'v a look if ye wish." "That I will do" came the curt reply.
Slowing the horses, I pulled them to a stop. The Cloud Guard unmounted, and apporached my wagon. After a few moments of sifting, he walked astride me again and smiled. "Would there be anything ye would like, Your Lordship?" The question didn't have much of a use, since the Cloud Guards never take from the poor - Just another benefit of having them around. "Nay, my good peasent, I am glad enough that you don't carry illegal goods." I quickly nodded my head, deciding not to mention the jars of Fireblaze hidden in the back. "Well, I must bade ye a g'day then, for oi have an appointment to make." That wasn't quite true, but it was better than nothing. "Indeed. Perhaps we shall meet again." It wasn't a question, just an offhand statement. I could feel sweat beginning to form on my brow. "Phew, it be hot today..." my quick incerssion came. The Guard nodded once, and clicked his horse fowards. Nothing else happened on the road, except for a passing farmer sharing with me some bread and cheese for a small bauble.
I arrived in town later that morn, the children and wives gathering around and following my cart. The menfolk would come later, when our transactions wouldn't be bothered. I preceeded to sell my cheap wares to the fools who would buy them, everything from rings to pots. I would also trade for goods, since most commonfolk didn't have much coin, if any at all. Surprisingly enough although, this town had a good bit of coin. Tipping my head to one such persons, I decided to ask them why. "Oi see you people have a wee bit of coin, aye? Where beist the large payments coming from?" I hoped for a reply, and finally the lady looked up at me. "A small copper mine was discovered down the road, and the town lordship shared the coin from it with us commonfolk. 'Tis a kindhearted man he is, one any woman would want in bed." The lewd remark brought a small smile to my face, and I handed the pretty lass a small ring. "Keep it, for your help this day." The lady smiled once more, and mingled with the crowd. And so the day went.
Finally, the crowds began to disperse, and my bag was once more full of coin - But it would be even more so full soon. The awaited time came, and the Menfolk of the village quietly gathered around. Covering me from view, I opened up the secret compartment, showing the flagons of Fireblaze. A few men whistled, and others gave them a good whack, telling them to hush. The deals were made, the coin and whiskey passed, and smiles traded around. It would only be after the enchantment wore off that they would realise they were drinking fresh woodland water, gathered by yours truly.
As the last of them left, laughing and talking, I gathered up my wagon and prepared to leave. The innkeeper doubled around, for reasons obvious. "The whiskey is good, and would be even better if we had another man to share it with. I have a free room at the inn, mayhaps you would be interested?" I couldn't accept of course, so I courteously declined. "Nay, my fellow goodsir, I have another town to reach before noon tommorow." The remark seemed to work, until the innkeeper seemed to realise something. "D'ya mean Nurnkent? That's a good two days away, no way you'd reach it by tommo'!" The man seemed to have thought I was hooked, but I still had a last card up my sleeve, albeit a cheap and short one. "Then I had best be off, no?" I clucked the horses on, and left the innkeeper shaking his head at me incrediously.
The night was crisp and clear as I rode my wagon out of town. A few of the commonfolk waved me on, bidding my goodnight. I was in high spirits, listening to my coins clank in the pouch by my waist. I was so happy that I never seemed to notice the silent figures in the trees...Atleast until it was too late. Without warning, a flash of red appeared, and a low whistle hummed through the air. A short yet stout spear seemed to grow from the wagon wall aside me, and it took me a moment to register it. When it did, my fear clicked in, and the terror rose. "Bloody caps!" came my cry. I was reaching for my whip, to hurry my horses on, when a large axe flipped through the air, beheading one and biting into the others flank. Realising that the wagon was lost, I quickly dove onto the road, as the surviving mare screamed and pulled sideways, breaking the ropes and bringing the wagon down. My coin bag rolled out from under me, copper and the odd silver flashing in-front of my eyes. I wasn't much of a fighter, but I had saved my life a few times. I pulled the hand crossbow from my belt, and duly equipped my short iron blade. The woods seemed quiet, and I almost had trouble believing it had happened. But there! A flash of red, and another one. Two powries? Or was it three? Blast them all, fast little bastards! My question was answered as the dwarves ran out, blood red caps on their heads all. They were naturally dyed red, from the human blood they were bathed in, sometimes daily - Hence the name Bloody Caps. I loosed the small bolt at one, and it buried in the creatures chest with satisfaction. The dwarf never even took notice, so full of battle lust. I knew that I was doomed, but I couldn't die here...I closed my eyes, a stupid thing to do, and prayed for the gods...Any god...
My call was answered. A shout came from down the road, and I saw a Cloud Guard ascending. He charged the horse into one of the powries, all the while leaping off to spear anothers chest. Quick as silver, the man drew his steel blade, and retrieved the spear. The remaining six dwarves slowed, and began to circle him. I knew that I should aid him, but what could I do? A merchant was no match against a Bloody Cap. I could only stare in awe, unaware of the figure approaching behind me. The Guard was slowly turning, keeping an eye on all opponents. I was praying that he would be able to defeat them, but ne'er had I heared of a man who could single-handedly take down six powries, much less two or three. There! One of the caps on the left suddenly darted fowards, as did the rest. The spear whistled down, but was knocked aside by a huge axe. The three an' a haf' foot tall figures seemed to dance around the Guard, weapons meeting blade and armor. The attacks left dents and scratches on the armor, whistling a horrid sound. The Cloud Knight parried the attack of one dwarf, all the while punching another, for the spear had been lost. The sword flashed, and a Powrie head flew, landing not two feet from me. A sharp grunt came from the knight, and I saw the hilt of a dagger stabbed deep down under the vulnerable kneepad. Blood trickled down, and the Guard went to a knee. Still he kept fighting, that beautiful blade whistling through the air. I gathered my resolve, and was about to stand to my feet, when a horridly grating voice echoed in my ear. "Not so fast, laddy - Yer blood be mine." Before I could reply, I felt a wicked dagger touch my neck, and the cold steel ripping through my flesh. The Guard noticed me, and shouted something - Then a Powries axe caved in his skull, and everything went misty.
The last thing I saw was a bloody cap, drinking the life energies flowing out of my body. The stars were bright today...What a clear night. I gently closed my eyes, and let peace overcome me.
"Oy, looky here! That damned lying trader seems to be dead, and a Cloud Guard too - No blood around, must've been powries..." "The bastard deserved it, he-" Suddenly the voice cut off in a gurgle. The three other men turned around, questions on their face. The man stood afor them, bent fowards slightly. One of the three commonfolk walked up to him, and lightly pushed him. "Are ye alright, Bill-ee?"
Too bad the fool never saw the axe in the mans back.
I once wrote an essay about a guy named Jamal B. Trippy who lived in Shroomville and who was addicted to magic mushrooms, and one day his sister, Shenequa B. Trippy, found him super trippy, and so she called the police. Turns out, Jamal got lung cancer because of the mushrooms, and he was gonna sue his provider, John B. Socheap.
This part of the essay is my pride and joy. Shenequa said this while being questioned by a news reporter: "I be hangin' up mah wet, perfumed laundry and be gobblin' up mah tender, mmm so tender, hot, and oh so spicy fried chicken, oh baby, praise the lawd, that chicken be some good stuff, I wish I had some of dat stuff right now, but anyways, where I at? Ah yeah, I remember, I was eatin' mah chicken when I heard mah brotha Jamal outside at exactly 5:16 on dis very day." (This is exactly how I typed it and turned it in)
I got a B on that essay, which was upsetting cause I thought I met all the requirements.
Fuck the max 2 image limit. (Imagine happy asian guy here)
(05-21-2015, 08:56 PM)TheEpicZephyr Wrote: I once wrote an essay about a guy named Jamal B. Trippy who lived in Shroomville and who was addicted to magic mushrooms, and one day his sister, Shenequa B. Trippy, found him super trippy, and so she called the police. Turns out, Jamal got lung cancer because of the mushrooms, and he was gonna sue his provider, John B. Socheap.
This part of the essay is my pride and joy. Shenequa said this while being questioned by a news reporter: "I be hangin' up mah wet, perfumed laundry and be gobblin' up mah tender, mmm so tender, hot, and oh so spicy fried chicken, oh baby, praise the lawd, that chicken be some good stuff, I wish I had some of dat stuff right now, but anyways, where I at? Ah yeah, I remember, I was eatin' mah chicken when I heard mah brotha Jamal outside at exactly 5:16 on dis very day." (This is exactly how I typed it and turned it in)
I got a B on that essay, which was upsetting cause I thought I met all the requirements.
I’ve learned all I know about professionalism from the teachings of Spongebob Squarepants, so obviously I was a bit skeptical about there being more to learn. Ten seconds into the video my eyes were opened to a whole world of Professionalism that I had never dreamed of. All the cartoons in the world didn’t prepare me for the bombshells dropped in that video. I learned that being polite to everyone, wearing appropriate attire, and admitting my mistakes were vital in being successful in the workplace.
For decades, I thought being polite was simply being more of a Spongebob than a Squidward. It turns out there is a lot more to being polite. You don’t just smile and nod, you actually listen and show empathy. This is especially important in healthcare because they are likely stressed and want emotional support. If my job as a medical assistant was just to get vitals and whatnot, then I would be replaced by a less handsome robot. Instead, my job is to listen and comfort people like an underpaid Dr. Phil or Oprah while also doing my robot labour. Even small things like saying “sir” or “ma’am” will show them that I respect them and make their experience a bit better.
My attire is just as important, if not more, than being polite. While I respect Spongebob’s choice of hard, honest work, I’ve aspired to do a bit more. As such, I’m expected to look the part. My inability to look clean and presentable would reflect poorly on myself and my employer. By looking the part, I’ll hopefully increase their confidence in me and their confidence in the office as a whole. Aside from looking the part, my attire can also influence my ability to do my part. Things like rings and long finger nails can rip gloves and also hold bacteria. No matter how overwhelmingly attractive I look with these things, I simply cannot perform my duties with them.
The final part of being professional, and perhaps the most important, means admitting my mistakes in order to improve them. This part was totally unknown to me, largely because of the simplicity of Spongebob’s profession. For me, as a medical assistant, I’ll need to embrace my numerous goof-ups in order to improve. The video presented a scenario where a staff member forgot to record giving medicine of some sort. The scenario was shown with such talented “acting” that I question rather it was actually acting or not. Still, the point was crystal clear: The only way I can un-stupid myself is if I acknowledge my stupid.
Being professional basically means going beyond the bare minimum. Not just showing up and doing medical assisting duties, but also comforting your patients as much as possible. Not just showing up in pajamas, but showing up in attire that gives a good impression. Not just moving on from your mistakes, but learning from them. In a way, you could say that professionalism isn’t just finishing an essay, but incorporating Spongebob in it as well.
(05-21-2015, 09:46 PM)OpTicX420xSpoonx360XFaZe Wrote: I had to write an essay about how I will use these professionalism tips in my medical career. I referenced spongebob in it. Got an A
Only you could write an essay including Spongebob and professionalism and get an A.
(05-21-2015, 08:56 PM)TheEpicZephyr Wrote: I once wrote an essay about a guy named Jamal B. Trippy who lived in Shroomville and who was addicted to magic mushrooms, and one day his sister, Shenequa B. Trippy, found him super trippy, and so she called the police. Turns out, Jamal got lung cancer because of the mushrooms, and he was gonna sue his provider, John B. Socheap.
This part of the essay is my pride and joy. Shenequa said this while being questioned by a news reporter: "I be hangin' up mah wet, perfumed laundry and be gobblin' up mah tender, mmm so tender, hot, and oh so spicy fried chicken, oh baby, praise the lawd, that chicken be some good stuff, I wish I had some of dat stuff right now, but anyways, where I at? Ah yeah, I remember, I was eatin' mah chicken when I heard mah brotha Jamal outside at exactly 5:16 on dis very day." (This is exactly how I typed it and turned it in)
I got a B on that essay, which was upsetting cause I thought I met all the requirements.
That's no essay, that's a narrative!
Well same shit
Essay/paper/narrative/etc
Fuck the max 2 image limit. (Imagine happy asian guy here)
![[+]](/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
Merchant Deception
