Final Project: Holden Style Writing

Final Project: Holden Style Writing

This Guy Really Got Me

An epic piece of literature by Max Duckworth

I had been sitting in the back of that goddam cab for hours. This driver was really a moron, no matter how many times I told him to take one of the back more empty roads he stayed on the busy ones with damn near a million others cars waiting for the light to turn green. He must of figured that the longer he takes the more I’m gonna pay him, but I was spent up – I mean it. There’s no way I’m gonna pay this guy for making me sit in the back of his crumby cab. These kind of people kill me, they really do.

It was so damn cold out tonight. I was freezing my ass of in this cab and the dumb bastard didn’t even turn on the heating for Christ’s sake. I didn’t really care much; it’s just that people’s laziness can really get in my nerves sometimes. I gave myself a hard time thinking about all the other poor people that had to freeze their ass off in this cold taxi, and then the people in the summer. That’s the deal with Ney York, too damn hot in the summer, too damn cold in the winter. Did this guy even put the air conditioning on for the poor people in the summer? The coldness was getting to me, it really was.

The cabbie hadn’t even said anything to me yet. I am really getting sick of morons like this. So what I did was, I tried to strike up a conversation. “Do you know what happens to the ducks when the lake in central park freezes over?”

“What ya tryin’ to do mac?”

Mac? If there was a word I hated more, I got enough of that crap from the last cabbie, that stuff kills me. “I’m not tryin’ anything. Just curious.”

“I dunno where the hell they go, and who the hell gives a damn about a few stupid ducks”

This bastard was really starting to get on my nerves. “I give a damn about a few stupid ducks! Ya know what, let me out here. I have better things to do than sit in this damn traffic!” I got out and slammed the door as hard as I could but I was too damn cold to do it hard enough to intimidate the guy. Walking wasn’t so bad, I do it quite a lot actually.

“You gonna pay the fare or what?” The cabbie asked. I ignored him; this moron wasn’t worth my time- the stupid bastard. I started walking a few blocks. My legs started to ache and stuff so I called another cab. This guy could tell I was as drunk as hell and tried to take advantage of me and charge more than an average fare. I didn’t really care, I had money.

I fell on to the back seat the second the car door opened. “Where to?” The cabbie asked.

“You tell me.” I had nowhere to go. I told the last cabbie to drive around until I saw a hotel that looked nice. “Ya know any good hotels I can stay in?”

“One, on the other side of town though.”

The lying bastard, this guy was a thief, he really was. I could name a million hotels between wherever the hell we were now to the hotel he just mentioned. I didn’t care; I was as drunk as hell. “That’ll do.” I told him.

The guy was quite a talker, I was up for it. I felt like chewing the fat a little bit myself­. This guy was a nice fella, he really was. “You want to get a drink?” I asked.

“Sorry, can’t do that. Savin’ money for the wife. She wants a big diamond ring for Christmas. How the hell is a cabbie supposed to provide stuff like that?”

I was sorry I asked; he went on a rant about how his wife is always wanting whatever she saw in a shop window. Why the hell should I care? I really hate it when people start ranting about whatever they can get their hands on. I roomed with a guy a couple of years back for about two months. Anything would set this bastard off. Door’s unlocked, get mad. My bed isn’t made, get mad. Leave the lights in the can on, get mad. I get mad at him for getting mad, get mad. He killed me, he really did. So what I did was, I put so many things out of place that this bastard damn near had a heart attack. But of course, after punching me in the face and damn near knocking all of my teeth out, he got me kicked out of the dorm. That bastard killed me, he really did.

“You got a wife?” The cabbie asked.

“Uhh, no,” I replied.

“Lucky bastard, what I would give to be single. Imma be bankrupt if my wife keeps wanting to buy stuff like a goddam ring.”

Sorry I asked. “Oh, really?” I asked, trying to be polite.

“Anyways, so how long ya in New York for?” He asked.

“I’m not really sure yet.” I responded.

“It’s a beautiful place isn’t it.” He asked.

Yes it is, I can’t get enough of these beautiful car fumes. “You got that right.”

“One thing I don’t get, where do the ducks go in the winter?”

This guy got me, he really did.

Just When I Thought My Day Was Getting Good

Just When I Thought My Day Was Getting Good

An epic piece of literature by Max Duckworth

I stepped out of my apartment holding my dog’s leash. We strolled through Central Park enjoying the serenity. It was practically silent considering it was five in the morning and this was one of the more quiet parts of the park. I couldn’t believe the profuse amounts of snow along the fields. It would have been the perfect moment had my dog not just peed all over my new shoes. It wasn’t like this was some regular old shoe; this shoe symbolized everything that had to do with 1949 and all of the great technology that we Americans enjoy every day. That’s what the radio says at least, but the world is full of symbolism that people say is there but it really isn’t. This shoe symbolized a new modern age…and now it was soaked with dog piss. Speaking of symbolism that people say is there but it really isn’t, guess who I just ran into: Holden Caulfield, the asshole maniac from my old school.

“God damn it.” I whispered to myself as I saw him notice me. Just when I thought my day was getting good, god ruins it with this. I wasn’t surprised to see his usual drunk waddle. As he waddled towards me I could see a bottle of beer in his hand. It reminded me of our school days, always drinking. Except I was conscientious about my alcohol intake, but this guy would drink until somebody was forced to confiscate the booze. People never change, I thought to myself.

“Hey there, Max.” He tried to say but he was too drunk to make the words clear. He dropped his bottle on the floor when he got close to me, he seemed to not notice. My dog started to lick it up; I really shouldn’t give him anything he can pee out all over my shoes. But I had bigger things to worry about. I had almost forgotten how audacious he was. “I’m sorry, I really am,” he started. “The night is still young.”

“No,” I told him, “Before I left school, I remember you saying that you’d sort your life out and look at you!!” He was wearing yet another school uniform clad with vomit and vodka. “Please just go home, Holden, and put on some nice clothes for Christ’s sake!”

“Shut up you dumb bastard!” He shouted. I forgot how irascible he was. “Ya know, I thought I saw you the other day. He looked like you –the guy I mean-, so I conjectured it was you, I introduced myself. It wasn’t you.” –AUTHORS NOTE: Yes that was a cheap shot at what Vigan said the other day--.

That made me depressed; anybody stupid enough to say something like that just killed me and made me despondent. Wow, Holden is rubbing off on me. I felt impelled to help him but he abhorred any advice anybody gave him about his life.

I told him that he needed help (despite the fact I already knew the answer). He didn’t care though. Like I said, it was his disposition to ignore advice. He started shouting at me using his usual unnecessary cuss words and dumbass repletion of everything and (what I hated most) his stupid symbolic hidden messages. Then he stopped, he looked like something was amiss. I should have gotten out of there when I had the chance, but I stayed. Then he spontaneously threw up all over my dog!

“WHAT THE F-!!” I started but he cut me off.

“Don’t say that word you dumb moron!! Your goddam bad words will scare all of the goddam kids you goddam stupid bastard!” Oh, the irony. It recurred to me how he always had a love of innocence of kids, he was always blabbing on about (not that anybody gave a crap about it)

He endeavored to put his finger on my lips to silence me, but he just collapsed. I was electrified; it just came out of nowhere. He looked like he had passes out and blood was coming out of the back of his head. THANK YOU GOD!!! I thought to myself. I finally had a chance to get away from this maniac AND he was in pain. This day might not be so bad after all. I started to walk away.

But no, he grabbed onto my ankle. This bastard wasn’t unconscious or in excruciating pain. God damn it!! What did I do to deserve this?? Who knows what this could escalate into: a trip to the hospital? Bringing him to my place? I wouldn’t want to see my wife’s “WHY THE HELL IS THERE A SOCIOPATH IN THE HOUSE!!” face.

“Wanna get a drink?” He offered again. This guy was just weird. As if the second spontaneous offer wasn’t weird enough, it was followed by one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. “You know, if they fall off, they fall off but it’s bad if you say anything to them.”

“What the hell does that even mean!?!?” Now he was just talking complete crap. I assumed it was another typical ‘Holden message’ that was something deep hidden behind his usual ranting on everything he can get his hands on. “Don’t demean yourself by saying stupid hidden messages that nobody gives a crap about!”

I then walked away, I had heard enough. Stupid Holden and his dumbass hating on everything and randomness. I didn’t even care if he bled to death on the floor. If anything it made me happy. The concept of Holden in pain is better than any Christmas present anyone’s going to get me.

Catcher in the Rye Poem

Catcher in the Rye Poem

The following poem sucks and is pessimistic.

He stands on the hill,

Watching,

Wanting,

Waiting,

For a sign,

A sign of goodbye.

He is leaving

From his school,

That he hates.

His crumby, Phony

School.

He hates

The people,

He hates

The lies.

He hates

Being surrounded by phonies.

He lives,

In a world of people,

People with bad hygiene,

People that lie,

People that are fake.

He is not a fake,

He is honest,

Candid,

Real.

Phonies,

Phonies,

Phonies,

He hates them so,

But what can he do?

Nothing,

For he is as hopeless as that annoying guy in ‘Ratatouille’,

But he is leaving,

His crumby, phony

School

…for ever.

He is an under achiever,

Who has really weird friends,

And a fondness for bad words,

He likes his brother’s baseball mitt,

For so long he has kept it.

He lives in a dorm with a guy

That he considers sexy,

Even though his razor blade is super-nasty,

But Stradlater- the roommate,

Is nowhere near as weird as the neighbor-

Ackley…

His name is Holden,

He used to fence,

Until he left the stuff on the subway,

He has flunked out of,

Four out of five classes,

He thinks that people are asses,

His history teacher was some old,

Creepy dude,

That smelt like Vick’s nose drops,

And now Stradlater has gone on a date with his old best friend,

Who keeps her kings at the back,

When she plays checkers,

And Holden like kings in the back,

Yes, he is a boring as an old Big Mac.

He calls the bathroom the can,

His roommate is a man,

This story is going nowhere,

All Holden seems to do is not care.

Why should I dare,

To go on to the end,

I probably won’t find a climax there,

This book is almost as slow as Avatar,

Watching that felt like being burned by tar.

But this book isn’t as excruciatingly boring,

So I guess I will read on,

And hopefully the boredom will be gone,

And I will be done.

Poetry Friday: My mother

My Mother

By Max Duckworth

is a saint,

My mother is a leaf,

My mother is play-doh,

The queen in a king’s castle.

My mother is a giver,

My mother is a teacher,

My mother the one,

Who watches the last slice from afar.

My mother is an ant,

My mother is a bee,

My mother is the guy that gives you

combo number three…at McDonalds

My mother is the bird,

My mother is a priest,

My mother is the one,

Who is to-the-beast.

My mother eats Mint Oreos,

Pizza, chocolate,

Pain, Sadness,

Boredom.

She is water in a desert,

Rain in summer,

Fun at a funeral,

Healthy stuff at KFC.

She watches Dexter,

Entourage,

True Blood,

Us.

Because of her: I am funny (or so I’ve been told),

Because of her I am able to help,

Able to care,

Able to eat a hell of a lot of food.

Able to dare.

Because of my mother,

I am me.

Which is a good thing by the way!

For some reason stanzas arent showing up in the poem :( I dont know how to re-stanza it because when I typed it in word it had stanzas in it. If anybody knows how to re-stanza can you post it in a comment or something like that? Pleeeeeease

Book Review

Book Review for Halo: The Fall of Reach

One of the books I read this year was Halo: The Fall of Reach by Eric Nylund. It is a science fiction/action novel that I would recommend for any fan of the genre or the major hit video game series that it is based on.

The book starts off explaining the war raging on between humans and a powerful alien enemy known as The Covenant. Living on planet Reach five hundred years in the future is a six year old boy named John who has been chosen for the a military project known as Project: SPARTAN. John – along with other six year olds – is then trained to be a ‘Super-Soldier’ to fight The Covenant.

On John’s journey towards maturity and becoming a more experienced warrior he meets other people such as: Kelly, Sammy, Keyes, Dr. Haseley and A.I. human-simulation Cortana. After The Covenant becomes stronger and start invading the planet Reach(which is John's home planet) John (and the other SPARTANS) are thrown into full-scale combat and John does things that he has never done before, things like: jumping through slip-stream space, destroying a Covenant ship and let go to the people that mean the most to him.

The number one protagonist in this book is John (who later in the book is addressed as Masterchief). Ever since childhood he has been determined to win no matter what the costs are. He is a very likeable character and despite the ‘win or die trying’ attitude he feels more like a human than an object.

Another important character in the story is Kelly; she has been a major part in John’s life since they were six years old. She is a fellow SPARTAN and takes commands from John. It is very hard not to like this character because she is obedient, loyal and cares about the other team-members.

The antagonist in this novel is a group rather than an individual: The Covenant. The Covenant is a brutal alien force hell-bent on destroying humanity. Their technology is far more superior to that of the humans (and this is 500 years in the future). It is only Captain Keyes who has destroyed one of their ships seeing as the Covenant lives by one rule: Destroy the humans no matter what.

In my opinion, this book is a great read for anybody that enjoys guns, explosions and blood. Even though John is a protagonist like no other, you feel like you can connect to him because at some point in our life we have all been thrown into situations that we didn’t like. The characters in the story are very believable and likeable and they are involved in a story line that is deep and action-packed at the same time. Unlike many other action novels, this one does not throw violence and fighting for no particular reason.

I must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed this book despite the fact that I don’t like the video-games that this story is based on. Like I said, this book is an incredible read for fans of the game or the genre. Eric Nylund has written two of the other Halo books in the series on addition to other novels such as: Mortal Coils, A Signal Shattered, A Game of Universe and many more. This book is the first in a series of six (if you exclude an anthology of short stories) and the prequel to the wildly successful X-Box game, and my opinion is worthy of the name: Halo.

On a scale of one-to-ten I would give this an eight because it dragged it’s feet at points and the story line was a little predictable. But by all means I would still recommend it if you were a fan of the games or not.

Confession Tuesday: I Hate Chatty Stuff

Confession Tuesday

I Hate Chat Stuff

All of you that are reading this have been on some kind of chat thing at some point in your life. Most of you chat with people everyday, whether it is on Facebook or BBM, you always chat. Even though day after day you say the same thing. Here is an example of a conversation:

Lifeless Guy Number One: Hey.
Lifeless Guy Number Two: Hey
Lifeless Guy Number One: What’s up?
Lifeless Guy Number Two: NM. U
Lifeless Guy Number One: NM. See ya.
LIFLESS GUY NUMBER ONE IS OFFLINE

Everyday people say that, and everyday people don’t get bored. Before you text somebody can’t you just assume that they aren’t doing anything remotely entertaining and save your self a few minutes of life? I mean really, they wouldn’t be talking to you if they were doing something interesting now would they?

Another thing I hate about chat stuff is the stupid shortcuts: LoL, ROFL, OMG. Why cant you just say the actual words. Half the time you say Lol, you didn’t even laugh! Why not write CL (which means courtesy laugh) instead of making people think that they are funny! Next is ROFL, have you ever seen somebody receive a message then start rolling around on the floor laughing? Then there’s OMG. Instead of writing that, write wow or something. It’s still three letters long (saving you from the torment of having to spend a couple of seconds typing) and it is an actual word, thus making you seem less ‘buttish’ My all time worse short cut is ‘NM’. When did people become so boring that they decided, “Why not make something that says that we aren’t doing anything fun.” Did somebody get so fed up with having to write, “Nothing much because I am a boring recluse.” That they narrowed it down to two letters.

As bad as shortcuts are, they can not compare to how annoying people are when they use shortcuts in regular conversations. If I had a penny for every time I said something to someone and they said, “Lol or ROFL” I would have enough money to…now that I think about it a dollar doesn’t go very far these days. I am not going on a ‘Nicholas tirade’ I am just saying that people need to keep their annoying ‘chat language’ in cyber-conversations and not come up to me (who is one of the few that enjoys talking the good old way) and say annoying three letter shortcuts!

It is not just the annoying chats that annoy me, it is the people who are using them non-stop. The amount of people you see now-a-days on their Blackberry asking somebody, “What’s up.” And then receiving confirmation that the other person is up to ‘NM’ Is just horrendous! The other day my mum nearly ran over some dumb-ass that decided that it was a good idea the text somebody in the middle of the road!

As if speaking like a robot and texting in the middle of the road isn’t enough, I really hate the people that BBM each other when they are talking to you! There you are being interesting and actually using your voice and then they say: “Excuse me but I need to make sure that this person is up to ‘NM’.” Also, there are those that just have to text people while you’re at a movie with them. Are they blind? Can they not see the ‘turn off your cell phone’ sign. You do not know how annoying it is hen you’re at the ending of a movie and you are completely absorbed by over-exposure to awesomeness and then you are brought back to reality by the vibration of a phone.

Then there are those who go on Facebook (on your computer) when they’re at you’re house. I AM TALKING TO YOU JACOB!!! DON’T PRETEND THAT YOU DON’T KNOW!!! It is unbelievably annoying when somebody is at your house and then they decide that they have to go on Facebook to make sure that everybody is up to ‘NM’. For god’s sake people, a Blackberry is kind of acceptable I guess because it is their thing and is small. But a computer? It is your computer! And it is big and distracting! It is so annoying!

To conclude, stop messaging each other all of the freaking time!!!!!!!! RAWR (that was supposed to intimidate you into stopping messaging…it failed didn’t it.)

Memoir Monday: Sock, Croc and Two Smoking Barrels

Memoir Monday

Sock, Croc and Two Smoking Barrels Before I start writing this awesome story I just want to warn you that it is more ‘slice-of-lifey’ than ‘memoir mondayey’. So here goes. Also, the title is a spoof of an old movie.

It was a regular Saturday morning: hot and boring. I rose from my bed thinking about the stuff I had to do that day: buy shoes, watch ‘Wall Street Two’ and (most importantly) finish watching ‘Dexter’ season four. I felt impelled to finish ‘Dexter’ first seeing as it was the most entertaining. Also, I completely abhor buying shoes! The interminable selection seems to go on forever, even though every shoe is the same.

In my mum’s mind: ‘the early bird catches the worm’. So we had to get the shoes and watch ‘Wall Street’ early to beat the crowds. Anybody that has met my mum will know that. Have you ever seen her pick me up from the mall after eight o’clock? That meant that ‘Dexter’ had to wait…NOOOO!!! For shoe-buying purposes I was going with the sock-croc look. The crocs are easy to slip off and everybody seems to get offended by people not wearing socks in shoe stores.

For those of you that are ‘fashion-blind’, you cannot wear socks and crocs together. The croc already looks stupid enough as a stand-alone piece of clothing, (seeing as it is no more than a colorful eraser full of holes) never mind the socks beneath it. Back to the story: I walked into the mall, wearing the dreaded clothes. As if that wasn’t enough, I just had to be wearing shorts to made the disgusting combination on my feet a thousand percent more visible.

I personally feel profoundly sorry for those who casually wear them, looking like they have no idea about the catastrophe going on below them. How can they not take amiss to the intense ugliness? While you’re wearing that, why not pop on those ‘heli-hats’ (the things nerds wear in cartoons) and that full-body, green thong from Borat?

Anyways, (Quick message to Dyvon and Mikkel: saying the words: ‘anyways’ and ‘okay’ does not make you gay!), we had just bought the shoes. (Here goes another rant). Have any of you hit up Dunkin’ Donuts recently? Have you noticed that they no longer serve the only good donut: the chocolate filled one? They have hundreds of crap flavors (emphasis on crap), but is a ‘Chocolate Cream’ too much to ask for? What they have on the menu is: pineapple cream, ‘Dulce de Leche’ (whatever the hell that is) and Bavarian freaking cream!! Not only that, but ECLAIRES!!!! E-FREAKING-CLAIRES!!!!!! They’re not even donuts for Christ sake! Munchkins are acceptable I guess because they are ‘Dunkin’ Donuts’ own creation…unlike éclairs! Max’s definition of éclair: long, annoying Bavarian cream! (This is where that tirade becomes relevant) My shoes are waaaay to long and thin. Anybody that has seen them will tell you that, (consult Mikkel for details). So my shoes are now called ‘The Éclairer-darers’…my family likes to make stupid names for stuff. Examples include: omelet = Ommer-Dommer, hamster = Hammer-Dammer and so on.

What I realized that humiliating day was that I really need to be more observant so that I won’t be seen in public with such apparel. Oh-yeah, I forgot to tell you how ‘Wall Street’ went. It was being screened in the biggest room ‘cinepolis’ had to offer: the 3-D one. Of course (seeing as ‘Wall Street’ was a sequel to the ‘Wall Street’ from twenty-three years ago) it was hard to see anybody under the age of sixty and the room was half-full. The last thing I needed at that point in time was about seventy snobby, old people seeing the ‘croc-sock’ combo.

Morale of the story: Be observant and DO NOT WEAR SOCKS WITH CROCS!!