Favorite Poem

Sonnet

From the deep blue of the pond
To the highest and whitest mountain caps
Where the woods does bond
And the trees always sap

The willows turn bright yellow
Yet the mountains are still white
And the pasture cows sit there in mellow
While the pool of water reflects the light

When I see the water it calms me
and its azure keeps me thinking
'Bout what and how things came to be
Where the fish come up and eventually sinking

Down into its depths of beauty
Where you can no longer see its eyes of ruby

Old Man and The Sea

Life’s struggles happen daily, from a common loss of money to a loss of a family member. The worst part is that they cannot be avoided, and we must get through them. What we do with these struggles is key, and we must defy the odds to even try to do good. This is what happens with Santiago in The Old Man and the Sea, who throughout the book he overcomes many obstacles, and through the melancholy and pessimistic view of Santiago, you find a peaceful and majestic setting and storyline in The Old Man and the Sea.

During the beginning of the story, the conflict is set. When the Old Man begins again, “He had gone eighty-four days (now) without taking a fish.”(9) This struggle is constant through the story, and even begins another one with his young friend, Manolin. After that long, Manolin’s parents decided that he fish with fisherman who caught everyday, rather than with the old Santiago. Santiago regularly speaks of having Manolin with him, and this keeps the old man thinking and wishing.

During the worst parts of the story, Santiago begins to think he will not survive the excursion out to sea. He even says to himself “No one should be alone in their old age.”(48) This is another struggle, as Santiago is an old fisherman who has no family, no friends, other than his young friend Manolin. He still, however, fights on with the Marlin and stays determined to catch the fish itself, even until death.

As he begins to reel the fish in, Santiago begins to speak of it being a brother to him, and his equal. He then says that “(he has) never seen a greater or more beautiful or a calmer or more noble thing than you brother.” (92) Here, he begins to rethink his fishing ways, and wondering if what he is doing is wrong, and whether or not he should let the Marlin go, or keep it and stay determined and bring it back to the village.

As the Old Man arrives back with just the Marlin’s skeleton, Manolin brings the Old Man into an inn and nourishes him after he collapsed on the dock. He then wakes up to see Manolin giving him coffee and talks about the Marlin. Santiago then says that “Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her?” (117) All the Old Man is left with is a skeleton, yet he is happy that he caught the fish, and continues to sleep, dreaming about sea lions playing on the beach. This gives a sense that we take many things for granted in our lives, and should appreciate the little things.

The Old Man has faced several struggles, but overcame them in a sense. He caught the fish, but only has a skeleton. He is also still as poor, but his determination and courage to catch such a fish provided a good story, even after five days of fishing. Even though Manolin did not come back with the Marlin as a whole, he is content with his catch and to him, that is all that matters in his eyes.

3rd ORB Review

Dimitri Kastrinakis
Feb 21st 2010
Accel English
Mr. BG
3rd Quarter ORB Review “The Secret Speech”
The book The Secret Speech is the second book in its series after Child 44 and takes place in fictional Communist Russia during the early 1960s. The protagonist is Leo Demidov, and is written in omniscient third person, giving the reader thoughts about other characters in the story. It is just after Stalin dies, and Russia is in chaos. There is mass arrests and “denouncements” of innocent ones, in which the names are given by the accused to prevent their families from suffering the same torture as them. Leo is the head of a shunned murder cabinet in the police, and as a former KGB agent he knows what he’s doing. The whole basis of the story is on a speech created by the new president, calling the ones making arrests the “bad guys” and Stalinism is dead. It is about Leo and his family trying to survive revolt after revolt in several cities.
“As in Child 44, Smith’s plotting is elaborate, and his pacing is relentless. His characters are wonderfully drawn, and the near-nonstop action is utterly gripping.” –Booklist. I absolutely agree with this critic, as it shows the exact things I liked in The Secret Speech. Its characters develop amazingly throughout the book and it is not boring to read, as well as there is a lot of action throughout, which I like a lot. There is also a sense of moody and depressing sense at some points, but adds a very thick plot to the mix, which makes it all very interesting.
The writing style in this book is very descriptive, without being a boring read however. It is one of my favorite books, and I like how the plot shifts from different persons at key points. “Cowardice lay behind the shameful arrangement. The ecclesiastical authorities, having rallied every church congregation behind Stalin during the war, were now an instrument of the State, a ministry of the Kremlin. This demolition was a demonstration of that subjugation.” (5) During the beginning of the story, this is about a church being blown up and continues from events in the previous book. Here the author uses important language and complex, making me need a dictionary at some points.
Reading this book, I liked how Leo was made to be a likeable protagonist and is not in fact as evil as other KGB members are depicted in the book. He is shown to have a heart, which is not always a good thing at some points. I especially enjoyed reading this as I like reading about these areas and points in time as I know so little about them. It also makes me wonder on some things in communist Russia. I like reading fiction about these events and even non-fiction about the same events.

Rough Draft Short Story

Dimitri Kastrinakis
1/20/10
Mr. BG
Accel English
Blood Sport
Andre stood juxtapose to the guard rail on the fourth floor in the empty Michael’s Apartment in the shadows. All he needed to do was wait, he was good at that. But acrimony made him angry enough to hurt, no, kill the man who had done this to him. He heard a rush of feet hurrying up past the third staircase. Infallibility was Andre’s specialty, and he would have no problem with this problem. As the man shuffled with his keys, Andre began to move out of shadows. The man, shaking with fear hurried into his apartment to immediately close the door. It closed, but not by him. The door flew open with force and the man fell to the ground screaming in pain. Andre’s brass knuckles flashed in the pale moonlight. Andre threw the man into the apartment and up against the wall. The door closed and the man looked up in fear, blood staining his suit and jacket. “Where is it!” shouted Andre, reinforced with a kick to the face. “Tell me Jack!” Jack sputtered in a frenzy. “I..i…I gave it to Angelo.” Andre stood back, shocked. Obstinately, he punched Jack again. “You gave him five million dollars? Just gave it away?” Jack’s breathing had evened as calmness overtook him for a moment. “It was for protection.” “Protection?! Where is he now, huh?” Jack took several blows in the stomach and face. Jack was bleeding profusely now and his sense was muddled. “You sold out your only friend in this world Jack, and now you’re going to leave it.” Andre wasn’t concerned; he had gotten the information he needed. He pulled out a gun and put it to Jack’s forehead. Now he needed his money, and this was a perfect way to scare Angelo. It took a few moments for Jack to respond, but a look of horror swept over his face fast enough for Andre to see the fear in his eyes before he died. Andre just laughed.
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Don Angelo was watching the Michael’s apartment the moment he had seen Andre enter it. He was atop the roof above an abandoned house looking directly into the window of Jack’s apartment. Don Angelo was actually only 37, but considered old for this trade. Money Laundering was his game, but Andre was much better at it. He was much younger than Angelo, and didn’t have the kindness he had. Andre was much more ruthless, more dangerous, more likely to kill for pleasure and without reason. This is why Don Angelo was afraid for Jack, even after selling out Andre. Faintly, he heard a tussle and screaming over the traffic a few streets down. He cringed at the gunshot, but knew what had happened. He ordered his men to meet him at the car, and he could hear the four hulking men’s footsteps all the way down to the car door opening. He knew Andre would never give up, and plotted the worst way to take him down. Angelo’s beeper flashed on and he knew that he had to leave. Andre would pay for what he had done. After all, money was a blood sport.
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Andre awoke the next day. His room was a mess but that was an impasse. He had never gotten the chance to clean it and never planned on it. What had woken him wasn’t normal though, a stench of chloroform. Someone planned on killing him, and he needed to get out of his apartment. Picking up his gun, knife and cell phone, he laconically but quickly ran out of the room. There were two armed men about to breach his door. Just then, something hit Andre. A pang of trepidation swept over him. Enough for him to hesitate, but the two men hesitated also. They were not trained as well as he was, and this gave Andre the upper hand. He stepped with his knife and jerked it into one of the men’s stomach and then across his neck. The other man pulled up his gun and pulled the trigger but Andre knocked it out of his hand. The bullet echoed throughout the apartment and Andre pulled his gun and shot without hesitation. Both were dead within a few seconds. Sprinting out of the apartment, he ran to the only other place he knew. But he first had to do something.
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Andre opened the door with Jack’s keys and stood, ready for it. Angelo sat in a chair just out of Andre’s reach, flanked by two other armed men. Also were his colleagues, men Angelo had loaned money to, given protection to, all the lower men. He started clapping, Andre had never been outsmarted before, at least the man who outsmarted him never got away alive. Angelo snorted vapidly. “You still think you’ve won haven’t you?” Andre laughed and smiled. He knew how to get inside someone’s head. “All I want is my money.” Angelo scoffed. “YOUR money? Never. It belongs to me.” “It doesn’t belong to some wannabe Italian gangster!” Spat Andre. Angelo immediately shot Andre in the leg. He writhed in pain and looked and laughed at Angelo. “That’s right, you probably never told any of your people have you?” The large group started muttering in question. “I called the police; they will pick you up shortly.” Andre had his mouth taped shut and left on the outside of the building. As soon as Andre went into that police car, nobody knew that more than just one person would die.
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“Andre Rodriguez, you have pleaded guilty to the murder of Jack Stevenson, your sentence is life in prison, you will be taken away now, anything that you would like to say on record?” Andre smiled coolly and stood from his seat. “I bet that all of you in this courtroom deserve it.” Above all, he looked directly at Angelo and his men and pulled a trigger in his pants. C4 linked to the trigger immediately exploded and destroyed the courtroom. Andre Rodriguez was now guilty of killing 54 people and the taking of his own life. After all, money is a blood sport.

Second Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Second Quarter Outside Reading Book Review
The Cretan Runner by George Psychoundakis. Published by Penguin Books
Novel Genre: Non-Fiction


The Cretan Runner is a witness account of the German Invasion of Crete in 1941 which devastated Crete for several months. It is written like a journal, and narrated in first-person by the author, George Psychoundakis. The story's protagonist is the author during the invasion where he is 21 at the time and first takes place in Canea, Greece but through his journeys is brought to several other cities on the island and even Egypt. George is given the task of sending important messages to cities and villages on the island of Crete, which is very mountainous. This means he and whomever he runs with must cross mountains daily and avoid German search parties. Throughout the book, he suffers from close calls with the Germans, starvation, and many other problems.
"Full of death, and the excitement of a fighter who wildly enjoys his own part of the dangerous business."-The Sunday Times. I completely agree with the quote as George did live and enjoy the lifestyle at several points, even in the bleakest times. He was also known for his infectious laugh and personality by many who knew him, and by his commander at one point who also translated the book from Greek, (Sir) Patrick Fermor.
In this book, the writing style is very similar to basic English and is sometimes hard to read in one sitting as some points in description become very lengthy. Also, since it was translated into English by a British man, it sometimes differs from American English in certain word meanings. "Soon the long-awaited telegram, saying that the aeroplane with stores would be arriving in a few days, came from Cairo. I don't remember where I had been sent, but I was not present at the drop. But when I got back, I learnt the whole queer story."(81) This was towards to beginning of the story which was describing the first night of the invasion when several airplanes began dropping German parachutists onto the island during the dead of night.
Reading this book I saw how hard some moments were for many in Europe. People often times had livestock and food stolen so that the Germans could continue to fight. I also have a relationship with this book through my grandfather and his brother who were very similar to George. They also served in the Greek Resistance during World War II and also sometimes sent messages to other cities and villages. I enjoyed this book greatly and would like to read other books by George Psychoundakis as he wrote other books about World War II, and the fact that I like to read about stories, fiction or non-fiction, about events in World War II.

Man's best friend or Pricey Music?

Do something you think is valuable have to be something pricey? Or can it be one always-memorable moment that stays in your thoughts forever? Modern day society is infatuated with new technology as new gadgets and gizmos are all the rage nowadays, but do you think that without them you wouldn’t be happy? Do you cherish the moments that stay present in your mind for a lifetime, or the technology-savvy new objects that are placed at ever-rising expensive prices?


I pull a jet-black hoody over my head and shut the door behind me. My black Labrador, Daisy, gallops out from underneath me. As she almost trips me she grabs the old and ripped ball in her mouth and utters a playful growl. She stares at me with happiness and joy. She rips the ball around, tearing more and more pieces of it off as she does. She wants to play, and the games will finally begin.

It all started back in July when my brother bought me a dog for my birthday. He was coming back after graduating from college, and on his way back from Colorado, he saw a sign for Labrador Retrievers. He knew I wanted a dog, and hastily chose the rambunctious one, knowing I would like her, and got on his way back to Massachusetts. When he first brought her to me, she ran to me and tackled me, licking me vigorously. She quickly became part of the family.

As we start to play, she runs circles around me, toying with me with the soccer ball falling half-way out of her mouth. I grab her, wrestle the toy away and kick it across my yard. Her spindly puppy legs fly out immediately to chase the ball with ease. She, with lightening speed, gets the ball back to me within seconds. This is the routine with her almost daily, and it’s what I love.


As I turn on my glossy iPod, I am still drowsy with sleep. Its azure plating shines from even the dim light in my bedroom. I rise with some soft rock and finally get on with the day. Since it’s not even six o’clock in the morning, I need everything I can to start the day off in as best of a way as possible. By the end of the day, I’m listening to some fast-beat hip-hop and heavy rock to get me ready for my game.

I first got my iPod a year ago for Christmas. It shone luminously when I first saw it, still in its case. I tore open the case as gently as possible, careful not to scratch its gleaming plating. I opened it and my face was in a grin ear-to-ear. Within the next week I had 300 songs and an abundant amount of videos and pictures saved to its memory. My iPod was now to be put into regular use almost daily, even after going through a washing machine three times.

I sluggishly step into my father’s car still with the sound of soft rock tuned into my ears. As he revs his engine of his “Tank,” a Chevrolet Two-door pickup truck, I am oblivious to the sound over the guitar solo by Coheed and Cambria. He then pulls out of the rain-slicked driveway and we embark on our journey. It takes a good forty minutes to get to school, being that I live in Palmer, but I manage with the help of my iPod. The shuffle setting is like heaven as I lay back and relax. I do this prolifically throughout the weeks. From the bus ride to long soccer games, or to the long rides to school, my iPod is always in my pocket playing some beats to either calm me down and relax, or get me pumped for a game.



What is, in actuality and reality, valuable? Spending time with my puppy and listening to my iPod are two completely different things, but are both invaluable. From my routines in the morning, my iPod gives me relief and relaxation during the late nights and early morning drives to school. Even on my way to games, it gets me pumped and ready to play. My trench-coated puppy is the same way. Sleeping in my bed with me at night, and playing with me during the day with her ripped soccer ball, she is loveable and playful yet always with me to comfort me in bad times, but keep me happy in good times. Even though there is always something I can do with my iPod, I prefer my dog-playing-days over any iPod usage ever. Even during the cold winter nights when my iPod is half frozen and not working, my dog is there to warm me up, sitting on the couch with me until we both fall asleep.

First Quarter Outside Reading Book

First Quarter Outside Reading Book Review
Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. Fine Creative Media Inc. 2005.
Novel Genre: Adventure

Treasure Island is a story of greedy pirates, lust for treasure and sheds light on some of the inner community of piracy. The storyline is narrated by a an adolescent by the name of Jim Hawkins and shows descriptively throughout the book how a young boy in the 18th century would retell an epic adventure. Set in England, Jim finds a map in an old pirate’s room and is convinced it is a treasure map. He and two other men are set on finding the treasure, but are set up for failure from the very beginning.
Angus Fletcher writes;” The unexpected and complex relationship that develops between Silver and Jim helps transform what seems at first to be a simple, rip-roaring adventure story into a deeply moving study of a boy’s growth into manhood, as he learns hard lessons about friendship, loyalty, courage, and honor- and the uncertain meaning of good and evil.” I like how Fletcher describes some of the deepest parts of Treasure Island and am astounded by how he writes this, as it seems very much so like the writing of Stevenson’s’ but in a much modern form. Fletcher picks the bowels of this book and completely puts them in a view that describes the troubles in Treasure Island.
Treasure Island is written like it should be, in a descriptive old English and is perfect for the description of many of the events throughout the book. Stevenson writes like a boy would, describing much almost in a poetic manner and shows certain emotions like fear and independence as I expect Jim would have. Stevenson shows the adventure a teenage boy would have and flows very well throughout the book, even at its roughest parts the book still shines.
“It was Silver’s voice, and before I had heard a dozen words, I would not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended on me alone.” (75)
As I read Stevenson’s Treasure Island I was infatuated by its style of description. Being written in the 1800s, it is easy to see how such a book can still be read for centuries to come, as it contains a flow some have only dreamed of writing and its descriptions are amazing, containing some of the best writing I have ever seen. I will certainly look to see if Stevenson has written any other books and give them a shot at reading them.