Israel's stand point

If the U.S. went into Pakistan and took control of their nuclear weapons because the U.S. feared that Al Qaeda would take control of them then the stand point of Israel would be that the U.S. was right. Israel believes that the U.S. is right in doing this because not only can they relate with the fear of enemies getting nuclear weapons-Iran-the U.S. is one of their biggest supporters and the relations between Pakistan and Israel are bad.
Pakistan doesn't even officially recognize Israel as a country let alone a people-Jews-who even deserve a small portion of what they did receive at the end of the World War II. So since the formation of this Jewish State the relations between Israel and Pakistan have been severe, Both angry for what they feel is an injustice from the other people.
Now to go along with that the U.S. is one of Israel's biggest supporters since the formation of this Jewish State and their relations are good, both supporting the other. Does this sentence sound familiar? It should because Israel's relations with the U.S. are the exact opposite of their relations with Pakistan. So of course Israel would go along with what the U.S. is doing.
Also the other reason that Israel would agree with the U.S. in this situation is because Iran is supposedly trying to build nuclear weapons and not only does the Iranian Government openly hate Israel(President of Iran-Mahmoud Ahmadinejad- said "Israel should be wiped off the map.") but they also don't recognize them as a country. In this situation Israel can relate to the U.S.'s stress. They can say hey we understand. If Iran started to whip out a nuclear weapons then we'd try to take them out. But you are just taking control before something that serious actually happens good job.
Some people say that the U.S. taking over the weapons would be wrong, but this report isn't about right or wrong, good or evil, but Israel's standpoint.
So basically Israel would agree with the U.S.'s actions in the event that they went into Pakistan and took control of their Nukes because not only can Israel relate to the U.S.'s predicament, but also because their relations with the U.S. are good and with Pakistan bad.

In Global Education I participated in S.I.M.U.N., a mock United Nations. I represented the state of Israel and went under 4 different scenarios. S.I.M.U.N. was exciting and difficult at the same time. I especially enjoyed the challenge of thinking on my feet while the other country’s “Representatives” fired questions at me. I believe that I represented Israel well and I am very happy that it was my country. Next year I hope that I will get just as great a country, maybe Iran-they’re enemies (lol)! It was an experience that I relished and am looking forward to experiencing again. Even though there were times I didn’t answer the questions well there were also times when I rocked them! I loved S.I.M.U.N. and I can’t wait to do it again next year, but there are some things that I’m going to need to improve on.
This year I didn’t really look up my allies and that hurt me in S.I.M.U.N. Next year I’m going to have to find my allies so that the S.I.M.U.N. experience is more pleasurable and less stressful. I’m also going to have to change the way I prepare for my speeches next year. I now realize that I can no longer just “wing it” after listening to the other representatives, but have to prepare them (writing them down) while they talk. But besides that I believe I did pretty well in preparing for S.I.M.U.N. overall.
In Global Education I had to do 4 dramatically different essays. I had to do one on the Falkland Island conflict with Argentina and the United Kingdom. I had to write one about why Iran wants nuclear materials and if it is a threat to Israel’s safety. I wrote one on the Kuril Island conflict between Russia and Japan. Finally I wrote about the Ukraine election and their relations with Russia regarding them and NATO. It was a required school preparation for S.I.M.U.N. On my own time I tried to look up allies (unsuccessfully) and read hour after hour the history of Israel. I also quizzed myself on what Israel would say in certain events (scenarios).It was really hard but extraordinarily helpful. I was so happy that I did all that to prepare for S.I.M.U.N. It was worth it.
While S.I.M.U.N. was hard in some parts it was easy in others. I believe that what I did to prepare for S.I.M.U.N. was very successful and with a few adjustments will be even better next year.

short cultural analysis

In the book Sold there were many cultural differences that I noticed. There was the fact that marriages were arranged at birth, and having a man in the house, even one that used up all the money for gambling, was crippled, and beat his family was better than not having one at all. Selling ones own family was looked down upon but not that strongly, and if you had your period then you were a woman and could not let any man see your face or it was a dishonor to the family. You also couldn't look a man in the eye. Once you had children the boy babies would breast feed until they were 5 and the girl babies for 2 years. It was really different to see that those in Nepal would consider such things important.

Dreams are a Curse Part 1 of 50

Dreams are a Curse Part 1 of 50

Have you ever had a dream? One so big you couldn’t stop it; one so great that it conquered all the others?
Have you ever been afraid to dream? Afraid to have it ripped away, and destroyed? To see it crumble right between your finger tips, before your very eyes?
Have you ever stopped dreaming? Refused to dream no matter how fleeting? Refusing because you know that you will lose everything just like the rest of the world?

Laurel woke up to the smell of cinders. The fire was warm but was dying down. Laurel shivered in the crisp winter air. It was a long winter this year. Tightening her mother’s hand woven blanket, she tip-toed across the frozen dirt floor towards the wood pile. She made sure to not step on her brothers and sisters as she went. She had 4 big brothers and 4 older sisters. She also had 2 younger sisters and 3 younger brothers. 6 sets of twins had left her with a lot of siblings but she didn’t mind. She loved little Jerry, Tommy, Lucy, Mari, and Robby. She loved George, Stephan, Laura, Toad, May, Stacy, Daisy, Mark, and Michael. She loved her Ma and her Pa and their soon to be baby. Even though they never had much room or food to eat she was content. She had her family’s love and she was happy.
Carefully she picked out several large pieces from the woodpile and, while shivering, tip-toed back to the fireplace. She put in two big pieces of wood and stood them against each other. Then she grabbed a handful of sticks, leaves, and twine to place around the logs. She grabbed the tinder box and coaxed the fire back to life. Cold but warming up she snuggled as close to the fire as she dared and smiled when her younger sister Mari snuggled up to her too. Laurel fell asleep smug, never knowing that this would be the last time she slept peacefully with her family.
“Smack!” A wave of pain shook Laurel awake. As she looked around sleepily for the cause shock completely woke her when she saw her Pa on the ground with lifeless eyes and a thick pool of blood beneath him. She was confused and scared. What was happening? How could this have happened? She must be having a nightmare. Everything was too sudden!
“Smack!” Laurel looked behind her to see Mari smacking her on her back with her finger pointed toward the door. As Laurel looked towards the door she saw them. The Mysers. They were the black plague that was destroying the world. They were demons in human costumes, evil traitorous hags. The only way you could tell they were a part of Kai Laiyers troops were two black and silver Crow-Crown emblems on their chests, and neck. They were the pictures of crows piercing the crown intertwined. Symbolist of the murder of her nation’s King Lan and his son Prince Riloh. They were murderous Monsters and they had invaded her home.
Terrified Laurel grabbed Mari’s hand and tried to make a run for it through the back door. She stumbled and fell to the floor. They were coming after them. They grabbed Mari as she tried to escape and then stuck a sword down her throat when she tried to fight back, ending her useless cries. Laurel went towards the back door as they feasted on Mari and grabbed Lucy and the youngest twins Robby and Tommy, as she ran. Laurel’s feet pounded the forest ground as she half dragged half carried the kids through the dense wood. As she ran she heard her Ma’s pain filled screams and smelt smoke coming from the house. Her Ma was being burned alive. Tears streaming down her face Laurel drove on. Finally when her legs wouldn’t support her anymore she placed Lucy on the ground and let the twins off her back before she collapsed. Confused, exhausted, and scared Laurel, Lucy, Tommy, and Robby curled up together and fell into a dreamless sleep. This was just the beginning of the hardships Laurel, and them would endure. Almost easy compared to what was coming.
Part 1 endTo be continued…

What I learned in language arts

In language arts I learned about Ethos. Ethos is about using the other person’s emotions to help your cause; whether it is a charity event or a murder trial. Like instead of writing 1 million people died of starvation, you would write something like this: The boy fell to the ground again. This time he could not get up. Tears streaming down his face he crawled to the bodies of his parents as his legs dragged uselessly behind him. He reached out his hand to touch his mothers arm. As soon as his finger brushed her too loose sleeve he collapsed. Gasping in pain he struggled to get up. His hands scraped against the rotting wood floor leaving splinters in his palm. "Mom..." he croaked his dry throat like sand paper. “Not you too. Don't leave me..." The boy pushed forward. As he grasped her hand he let go in shock. Her hand slapped against the floor with a thud. She was like ice. She was cold like death. She had left him too." Noo..." Croaked the boy, his throat to torn to wail like he wanted. "No..." The boy's head hit the floor. His shoulders drooped and he too would soon be ice cold. Such are the effects of starvation. Almost 1 Million people, 400,000 children, died this same way.
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In language arts I also learned about Mythology. Before I used to think that it was a fairy tale from the past, but now I know it's much different. Myths are stories from the past yes, but they're stories to represent what cannot be explained (usually involving gods). Questions like: Why am I here? What is my purpose in life?What happens when I die? A myth is used to explain all of those questions. Usually they used to believe that the sun and stars were some kind of god (Native Americans). They also used to make myths about gods that made the earth, stars, and us (Greek).There myths that you wouldn't have an after life unless your body was preserved (Egyptians). There were myths about everything. But the thing I learned was that a myth is not an old fairy tale, but an old story used to explain the mysteries of nature. The things that every human worries, wonders, and fantasizes about.
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I also learned how to be concise in my writing. Being concise meant that I would cut down on everything, and anything I didn't need in my writing. I didn't always need to be concise, but I now know how to much better than before. Like instead of writing a 16 word sentence I would write an 8 word sentence. For example: Instead of writing I went to the park with lots of pretty flowers to ride my bike, and play with my friends, and go on the swings, and smell the flowers, and play tag with my mom and brother; I would write I went to the park with my family to play and smell the flowers. That sentence was a lot better right? My teacher taught me to be short and sweet. It really helped me a lot. Thank you Mr. Fielder

Sand Dunes!

My family and I went to the sand dunes last summer. We had a great trip. We junked out. We played at the beach and each of us got buried. We climbed the dunes and rolled from the top. We stayed up all night in hotels and motels. We had a blast!

Prologue
Most babies are born crying but I was born silent. It’s not that I couldn’t talk, or scream, or cry, but more that I knew not to. From the time I was born I’ve known things. Most people called it a wix (That’s how they defined powers) but I’ve always thought of it as something else, something special; it was definitely not something to die over. Too bad I was the only one who thought that way.
~~***~~
Scotland
April, 6, 6881 Arana screamed. "Push ye slow woman!" a hard voice commanded. "Ye are taking too long. The babe will die! You will not kill my heir."
""Ah! Help me I'm t...tearin'...aparahhh!"
"Ye daft woman I waited nigh on ten years for this babe. Ye will deliver me my heir safe and whole!"
"Ayhh help!!!"
“Deliver the babe now.”
“P…pp…please!!”
“Now!!”
~~***~~
My mother died on the day of my birth. My father used to tell me, pride saturating his voice, that it was as if I was a bloody demon tearing through my own mother to reach the clean fresh air. Every year on my birthday he tells me the wonder of it. About how I rid him of a horrid woman who refused to bear children who inherited the Drameir, a power that took various forms in his line. I hate my father when he talks about such things. I've always wanted a mother, a family, and friends. But I'm his heir and I have to learn my ancestors’ ways. To destroy the government. To kill all the normal humans; everyone who has ever ridiculed, and laughed at us will now live in fear. Tomorrow is the first day of a new era, the day that my powers will manifest-my 15th birthday. My name is Ares, and like the Greek god of war my birthright is destruction.
Ch: 1
15 years later…
As I broke out in a sweat, the autumn leaves twirled and spun around me; the red and gold colors mixed and shone like bright stars in the morning sun. How wondrous I thought, that the great leaves of the earth welcome me on this day. To begin the war to kill the bloodthirsty humans. They who have been draining her life force for thousands of years. Today, my fifteenth birthday, I’m inheriting my powers along with the memories of all the other Axdars. I will become the ruler of my people and I alone will start the war for us and our new beginning.
I walked deeper into the forest, my feet bare, the dirt curling around my toes, and I breathed in the fresh damp air. My first rite of passage, to walk to the curve of the mountain and into the Spine—a holy place where my people go to receive their position, in accordance to their power. Being one of the last of a half-breed kind has made my blood weaker. If my powers are not strong then I am afraid the Drameir line will die out completely. I am the last chance to redeem my dyeing and scattered tribe.
When I was finally in front of the Spine I started to disrobe. It was sacred land. Everyone who has ever lived in my tribe was born in the Spine, and so came back into it as they did since their very first breath—naked. Taking the time to catch water from a nearby stream I bathed my body. I then placed my clothes in the shade of a mother oak tree. The only thing that I took with me was my Axdars pack; it was the one thing my people allowed within the shade of the Spine. I was cleansed and I was ready.
I walked into the spine, my feet firm upon the ground, my head held high. Anxiety forced my heart to pound a drum beat against my chest. “Bum, bum, bum!” It grew louder and harder with each step. The wind swirled around me; it yanked and pulled my hair hard-bloodying the roots.
The Spine was a clear meadow surrounded by ancient oaks and firs. Inside it had seven thin long rocks pointed toward the seven great stars, Mard, Leo, Rold, Tera, Forn, Meta, and Crus—the givers of Drameir. I took my sky blue pack and let it fall to the ground. “Plop…” I went to my knees and grabbed the Creia, a ceremonial dagger used on the Axdar blood leaders. I grabbed my long white braid and cut it off midpoint. The braid toppled to the ground, almost as long as I was—we weren’t allowed to cut our hair until we turned fifteen. My dark violet eyes, the tell tale sign of my race, narrowed in pain as I sliced my forearms, then my shins, my lower back, my cheeks, and along my forehead to the bridge of my nose. Blood formed a thick puddle at my feet. Pain laced my body and I wanted to drown in it. I took out a bottle, unlaced the stopper and dipped my head back. My body was on fire. My limbs burned. Soon all there would be of Ares was a pile of ash. Legs trembling I stood up. Gong to each star rock I gave the gods a sacrifice of blood. “Abmallin!” I breathed through gritted teeth. Give me life. “Abmallin!” I cried. I went to the center of the Spine. My Father watched me from the shadows, pride enveloping his features. Pride again I thought viciously. I hate his blasted pride! As I fell to my knees, dropping to the bloody grass like a stone, about to finally receive my powers, a single idiotic thought occurred to me, my father was a mad man; and then I fainted.


Chapter 2
To be continued…

A Fighters Life

The power of one changes everything

1/4/2010

Tatiana Rodriguez



A Tale depicting a young girl’s path to save the world

Prologue
Boom! He was coming and she had to get away. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her, cursing her pure blonde hair that called out like a beacon. “Come. Come to me. I’m right here.” it said. She knew that to be caught would mean death. It was why she’d run in the first place.
As she sloshed through the mud, feet heavy, chest heaving, she swiftly thought out a plan. She had to get to the pipe hidden in the waterhole. She understood that it was possible that he would find her on the way. But even so she thought, determination hardening her features, it was the only choice that she had. It was the only chance she had to get him off her trail. She had to take it.
Ayah suddenly veered off course. Before she had been following some old trails while trying to keep low. Now she was going through completely untamed land. As she ran the tree branches whipped across her face causing splotches of blood to splatter onto her rain soaked sweater. The only sign that she felt the pain were her narrowed her eyes as she drove forward. The under growth scratched and sliced her legs leaving rips of flesh and cloth in her wake like a trail of death.
“Boom!!” He was closer. She knelt into the mud, and sniffed the air. It smelled like them, heavy and rotten. He had gotten much closer- too close. She had to get away. She started off again, her feet slipping and pushing into the mud. She was starting to lose feeling in her left leg, and she panicked. Her sheer dread only added to her already frenzied pace as she scraped through the brambles. If she did not get there soon then all would be lost.
Then up ahead, like a long awaited dawn, she saw it. She was almost there. Relief washed over her. She could have laughed. But it was short lived. As she breathed in a sigh of relief she detected it, heavy, rotten, sharp, and bitter. He was almost upon her.
She zoomed under the bushes, and dove through the old dirt mound down the water tunnel that should cover her tracks. She shimmied down an old pipe and waited. It was cramped and that brought her torn legs into view. As she ignored them she tried to console herself with the thought that she would not be caught. She could not fool herself. She had a 50/50 chance of getting out of there at best.
“Boom, boom, crash!” She froze in mid breath. He was right above her. In the seconds that she waited her heart thumped as though it was determined to get an entire life time of beats. Her blood seared through her veins. Still she did not breathe. She heard his footsteps echo in the distance and she let herself relax. He was leaving. There was no other explanation for it. She suddenly felt giddy as her heart beat slowed. She would live!
As the adrenaline rush subsided she felt the full effects of the forest’s malice. Her abrasions screamed out in pain. So shocked by this sudden onslaught she moaned. Her hands covered her mouth and a lump grew in her throat. Too afraid to make a sound she waited and wondered. Would he find...
“Crashoom!!!” Even before finishing her thought, the world collapsed. She felt the old metal pipe tear and burst as a wave of pain shattered her leg. She saw the world explode around her as dirt and water sprayed the earth black. She felt a hand grab her collar and pull her out of the pipe’s broken remains. Her mind went blank as minds often do when under so much pain and terror. He was the hunter, she the hunted, and she had just been caught.


Two months earlier…

This is just the prologue! Please tell me what you think!