where have all the good weekends gone?

Staying up until 3:00 in the morning for the better part of a week can really screw up the way you function. I'm not eating, not sleeping, cursing myself when I actually do fall asleep and then again when I sleep in too much. What has the world come to when rest and relaxation has become a bad thing?!

Urban Dictionary defines the heinous term DEADLINE, which:
Designates the approximate point in time at which work begins in earnest; employee motivation is frequently observed to be "dead" before the deadline draws near.

"Christ, it's the nearly deadline already?! Hey Pete, put down the controller my friend - it's time that we looked at these shuttle schematics."

And in this case, shuttle schematics is a metaphor for the mindfuck of the week:

English
ISU
Logs.

Yep, it's that time of year again; the time when teachers of every subject delude students into believing their generosity and thoughtfulness by not piling on the independent assignments last-minute come January. Instead, they make the due date halfway through the semester to allow for the balancing of subjects.

Be warned, my friends, that this is no more or less than a strategic attack on the mental and physical health of the student body. Teenagers suffering from this ungodly amount of reading and writing have been found to develop extreme difficulty speaking. After spending countless (25+ dammit!) hours in front of the merciless glare of the monitor, students tend to slur their words together - even msn conversations lack the use of a spacebar:

BRD2TRS says: shitmanihaventdonemyenglishyet.

COD calls! [brb] says: yeahmanmeneitherfml.

Other symptoms include:
- constant fidgetting
- empty Tim Horton's cups littering the desktop
- forlorn appearance (droopy eyes, dragging feet, sagging shoulders)
- starvation*
- cries of agony (which can vary from a low, grumbly register to a high-pitched sceam)

*with the exception of caffeine-related products

So, for those of you suffering the way I am, I assure you - the end is near! You will soon be able to step outside into the sun again, breathe fresh air and frolic through meadows without a care in the world.

Until your next ISU is due, that is.

I must soon take my leave (as I have almost an entire log to finish in less than one day - wish me luck!) but before I do, I would very much like to thank my coffee maker and kettle, without whose support I would not be here today.

Fare thee well, fellow ISUers;

and future 4U students - beware!

***

not at all formal. format crazy > it's choppy.
but it was fun to write! (take THAT, english department!)

:) no hard feelings, ms hathaway!

Good Bye World

Hello everyone, so this piece is inspired by a moment i had at work today were everything was going so crazy, i thought i might pass out.
enjoy.

I'm passing out
I'm passing out
Hands are shaking,
feet are breaking,
I'm passing out.
My head is spinning,
the tickets printing,
I'm passing out.
The world is going black
and my head is going to smack
on the floor that hits back.
I'm passing out.
Good Bye World.

Hey guys, i wrote this poem after getting back from a horrendously long shift at work.
Its all about the simple thoughts that go through your mind as you are slowly slipping out of consciousness. I always imagined that if you're passing out, you would not be taking in very specific details about your surrounding and would only realized the very basic elements of whats happening. That's why i focused more on the feeling that this person is immediately feeling because the next moment they would not remember them.
This poem is also written with a certain element of euphoria and glee. That these pains that you feel have ceased to hurt you and you just feel happy inside. They way i see this piece is, that it is almost a song or a nursery rhyme. Something that the person is just uttering as they are slipping away.
I did not use any consistent rhyming scheme in this piece because i just think that it would take away from the piece. I did use some rhyming because i think that the character would probable find it funny that some of there words actually rhyme as there saying this, and it would add more glee to there voice, which i think adds to the sense of euphoria.

I would love to hear your opinion, and any constructive criticism. thank you

Idril had no idea where she was, or what she was going to do. With Iztyrr huddled up in her arms, he was managing to stay warm, but the cold rigid air was really starting to get to her. Her entire body was throbbing, from her probably frostbitten toes to her pulsing head. She looked up in disbelief, cursing as she saw snow flakes that dropped gently onto the ground. The snowflakes looked peaceful enough but soon the wind started screeching, sending them blasting into her body, seeming to permeate the outer layer of skin and freezing her to her inner core. Her cloak was wrapped around Iztyrr, and she was wearing nothing but a thin pair of pants, and a cloth summery top. She stumbled over a branch as her body began to tense up with the cold, and nearly dropped Iztyrr, who now woke up and snuggled deeper into his mother’s arms. She saw a figure in the distance and squinted to make out who or what it was. As she approached the being, she called out the best she could, although it was quiet and weak. She strained a second time and managed to belt out a shriek. The figure turned, and seeing Idril in this state, ran towards her quickly. Idril swooned, feeling herself drop into the cold. The figure emerged from the shroud of snow, catching Idril in his arms, and then sitting her down. Luckily the child managed to remain cradled there in her arms.

“You’re going to be OK. I’m going to take you back to a nearby city as soon as possible. Just hold on okay?” He quickly blurted out. She nodded her head in agreement. He took off his cloak and put it over Idril, helping her up, and took Iztyrr in his hands. He gave her the cape to tie around her ears and head. Idril was shaky, but slowly and surely lights flickered in the distance, showing signs of civilization. Idril was too faint to even show any signs of joy at making it this far. As soon as they hit the village, the elf ushered them into a house, and warmed up the fire immediately. The heat of the room seemed to revive Idril slightly, as the cold began to very slowly melt from her.

This is a portion of a story I wrote for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) last year. Now, I know it's not excellently written, but the point of NaNoWriMo is not beautiful writing - It's just writing for writings sake. The whole point of NaNoWriMo is that in 1 month you are to write 50,000 words, the length of a 175 page novel. This works out to being 1667 words a day. But you aren't supposed to be writing a masterpiece, the idea is to pump this novel out in the roughest form just to get it done. Then, if you like it you can go back and refine and edit and make it beautiful, and if you don't like it at least you were successful in writing something so long, and your writing ability and creativity will hopefully be improved along the way! This is entirely self motivated however, so you have to really want to do it to be successful. If you ARE successful your name gets recorded into their list to be preserved for all times!

Their description explains the point very concisely:
"National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft, NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down."

Unfortunately both years I entered I was not quite as successful as I would've liked. Last year I made it to 17k, which is the best I have done. Not even halfway. This year I am determined to do better though, and be successful in writing 50k!

One fun thing about this is that it's easy to do it with a group of friends, which is what I have always done. By entering with friends you're able to compare work and motivate each other to be successful! So if you guys enjoy story writing you should give it a go for sure! You can write about anything you want! So I challenge you all to meet the 50k deadline.

Can you do it?

Where The Wild Things Are

For those of you privy to my uncontrollable excitement Friday, it was due to the release of the movie 'Where The Wild Things Are'. Having grown up enjoying many childhood stories, Where The Wild Things Are was definitely one I had always loved. Early May of this year, i was blessed with this beautiful trailer that instantly made be 'Baww'. I instantly fell in love with this movie. Last night, I finally got the chance to watch it.

I really feel like writing a lot, but I won't! because I am doing an article for The Celtic, which you all should read when it gets distributed!

Anyways,

The innocence of a child is so beautiful. We are so naive to everything when we are a child. This is what I loved about this movie. It is simply about a child and his imagination, where it takes him and what he does there. For those of you familiar with the book, you're in for a treat, this adaptation of the short childhood book is beautiful. The cinematography is simply stunning, the CGI is phenomenal and Max, the main character is awesome. The movie is fun, but also dark, and not as uplifting as one would think, but just as moving.

Spike Jonze (director) did an amazing job at taking this little book, and brining it to life on the big screen. There is so much more to be said about this movie, but I know if I get started on explaining one bit, I'll end up ranting about the movie forever. So I'll finish this off with saying: Where The Wild Things are is simply amazing; GO SEE IT.

Halloween Horrors

When I was a child, the most frightening part of Halloween was.... finding the right costume. I always had a difficult time finding a pretty princess costume or the perfect stuffed dog to be Toto for my Dorothy costume. But even if I found the perfect costume, something would always go wrong on those Halloween nights:


For starters, it's always freezing cold. And I never wanted to wear my winter coat. And if I refused to conceal my pretty princess dress under an ungracious jacket, then my mother would have me wearing my coat under my dress. And, let me tell you, there is nothing pretty about a puffy princess.


One year in particular, I wanted to go as Cinderella. And as the sun went down, and the ghouls came out, I was so excited to go out Tick-or-Treating. I dashed up stairs and put on my princess dress (of course, not without a thick, white sweater underneath). But there was a problem: I'm brunette. And Cinderella simply cannot have brown hair. So we had bought a curly, blond wig (the only one we could find). And that blond wig was piled haphazardly on my head, in a horrible attempt at recreating Cinderella's perfect hairstyle. I took one look at myself wearing that ridiculous wig and I did what any other little girl would do: cry. And of course, my parents wouldn't let me take it off. They bought it for the sole purpose of my costume, so they wouldn't let me take it off until they had at least snapped a few photos. To be honest, I cannot remember that particular Halloween very well (for they say that the mind naturally blocks memories of trauma.) The only memories I have are the photographs that are doomed to haunt me forever: the first, before shot, of a frowning, tearful me wearing that godawful wig, and the second, after shot, in which I was smiling happily at the camera; my brunette hair piled upon my head in a terrible attempt at imitating Cinderella's signature 'do .



Another Halloween that makes me cringe was the Halloween of '99. My older sister decided that that year she wanted to go as a witch, so I decided I'd go as her black cat. My sister got excited about her witch costume and went crazy buying all sorts of accessories: long, black nails, a cauldron for collecting candy, a broomstick, as well as the necessities of the pointed hat, dress and sinister mask. And I'll admit, she looked pretty good. The problem is that everyone else thought the same thing; maybe a little too good. Some of the houses would rant about how she was 'the best witch they'd seen so far' while I stood behind her in my cute little cat ears and tail. I received no comments whatsoever except when someone said that I made for a perfect accessory for my sister. One particular house went so far as to give her extra candy; meanwhile I stood right next to her, and they didn't even give me any extra candy. Not even pity candy.

So although Halloween has many scary aspects, the 'boos' and gore failed to scare me year after year. For the most frightening thing of all, was trying to find the right costume: a well-insulated, wig-less phenomenon that would be better than any costume my sister would wear...

I still haven't found it.

Traiteur

“Damn it!”

I slammed my hands against the keyboard on my lap. This was the third time this week! If I didn’t have my story finished by Friday, I’d find myself in my editor’s office – blinds closed – out of which I would hastily exit, making a beeline for my coat and car keys. I would avoid the swiveling heads, silently curse the many fingers hovering over keyboards and head towards the elevator.

I made a mental note to thank Big Guns upstairs for the timely power outage.

I picked up the paper on the coffee table. I had been following the story of a missing 18-year-old girl from Austin, Texas named Leena Russett. I had studied her picture off and on throughout the past few days, pulling as much information as I could from that single photograph; long, dirty blonde hair framing a pale complexion and shockingly green eyes. She was on her way to visit her grandparents in Greece, her parents said in Monday’s Globe interview. The Police tracked down her luggage at an Athens airport only hours ago, but remained ill-informed of her exact whereabouts. She’s been missing for nearly four days now.

I rested my head in my hands, avoiding the glare of the monitor permanently imprinted on the inside of my eyelids. I had been at this desk for hours, scouring my sources and archives for something – anything – that would help me finish my article for The Chicago Tribune, back home. That is, until the glorious World Wide Web had cut out on me, followed by my phone… then my desk lamp...

The Tribune had placed me in a small apartment in France, above a well known café called Traiteur. Last Friday’s journey overseas had been quite the interesting flight, sitting beside both a Terminator fanatic and a Priest from Tennessee. Needless to say, I was glad when the pilot announced the beginning of our descent. During the past week, I had taken my camera with me in heavy bouts of rain and merciful streams of sunshine. In between professional shots I had taken to wandering the streets, interviewing local store owners and admiring the sights of cobblestone alleys and intricate stone fountains. I even found myself riding a rented bike to and from the world renowned Louvre one afternoon.

That night, however, I merely sighed and leaned back into the sofa I had come to call home. I would finish my article in the morning; there was little point in trying to continue without power. I felt my breathing slow as I closed my eyes and began to drift off…

Sleep never greeted me. I sprang to my feet at the sound of my apartment door being kicked to the ground. Five men dressed entirely in black charged inside. I reached for the desk chair and started swinging it madly in every direction, desperate to keep as much distance as I could between me and the approaching gang.

I needn’t have tried so hard. One caught me from behind, bringing me to my knees. Two others were searching through my papers strewn across the surface of the coffee table.

“Hey! Wha— ” I protested.

The blow forced my head to one side as I spat blood onto the floor. When I looked up again, blurry-eyed, it was to see a photograph – my photograph – a group of girls dancing festively in front of the Traiteur.

“You’re in over your head, boy!” one of the masked men snarled in my face.

And in the center of the photograph I saw her.

Blonde Hair. Green Eyes.

Leena.

***

This is my photograph-based short story! I admit I have a hard time condensing my work within assigned word limits, and I'm afraid that the sudden turn of events near the end seems like i'm rushing to get the story wrapped up.
Are my uses of narrative summary/moment effective?

A Dear Friend

I'd like to be the sort of friend that

you have been to me;

I'd like to be the help that

you've been always glad to be;

I'd like to mean as much to you

each minute of the day

As you have meant, old friend of mine,

to me along the way.

I'd like to do the big things and

the splendid things for you,

To brush the gray from out your skies

and leave them only blue;

I'd like to give you back the joy

that you have given me,

Yet that were wishing you a need

I hope will never be;

I'd like to make you feel as rich as I,

who travel on

Undaunted in the darkest hours with you to

lean upon.

And could I have one wish this year,

this only would it be:

I'd like to be the sort of friend

that you have been to me.

And I Listen

You blow your nose
Not but a foot away from me
We just stayed up the whole night
Talking Like we use to back in the day
For hours
And you tell me what is on your mind
and i listen
and I listen with all my heart
I notice that i tune everyone else out when they talk
but i always hang on your every word
and you tell me that you don't know
and i listen
and i think
and i think that i've always known
I've always known that you don't know
but that has never stopped me
and you sleep there in the silence
and i listen
and i think
and i hope
and i hope that one day you will know
That you will know exactly what to do
and you never have another doubt about it
and i listen
and i think
and i hope
and i slowly drift to sleep
and i slowly drift to sleep
Listening, Thinking, Hoping
and i dream
and i dream that one day
just one day we will be together
We will be together and happy
and you will know
and i will listen
and we both will think
and we wont need to hope
because we don't need to hope
because we have it
We have it
What we have always been hoping for


Just to let you know, this isn't personal to me...I have a boyfriend I'm not desperate for some guy haha. Give me feedback please!

Give us what we want to see: television and hot blondes in odd positions.

Okay, so I figure I should come clean to everyone about my past...

I used to have a really serious addiction...

It was using up all my time, all my money, I was gaining weight.
It was awful.

I was addicted to...

Reality TV.

I used to watch every reality TV show you could ever think of! I even had to make a chart to schedule out what shows were on which days so I didn't miss anything. I loved Fear Factor, Survivor, Hell's Kitchen, Amazing Race... the list goes on!
I would spend hours every day watching TV!
I would sit around eating junk food the whole time I was doing so!

I have since broken my addiction, deciding I had more important things to do with my life. It just wasted too much time!

There's one show I still watch though... it entertains my Wednesday evenings.
This show is...

America's Next Top Model.

Yes, I know, I know.
How typical. I just seem to be falling into ALL the stereotypes!
But it's so good! It's a secret pleasure of mine!

The reason this show has kept me captivated for so long is a combination of the fun photo shoots, the catty contestants and the added joy of the entertaining (although sometimes annoying) Tyra Banks. This season all the contestants are short (5'7 and under) which is kind of silly because really those models are not going to be as successful as taller models in the fashion industry. Through watching the show, though, you would have no idea they were short models. Their ridiculously tiny body proportions make them look like they're actually 7 feet tall. But I digress; their focus this season is giving shorter models a chance to make a name for themselves in the fashion world, but that isn't really all that realistic. At least they're trying to make a change for the better, I suppose.

One of my favourite contestants this season is Nicole.

The first reason I love Nicole is because I adore redheads and she is GORGEOUS. Secondly, she's the weird one. I always love the weird one, the one everyone considers as the underdog, although Nicole is certainly no underdog and is actually dominating the competition. She's also not scheming or gossipy, thankfully. I hate the mean girls, and when the girls are cruel to each other and do nothing but talk crap I lose all respect. She also just takes stunning photos.

My 2nd favourite is Laura!


What's great about Laura is that she is so sincere. She is a naive girl from the south who lives on a farm, talks in a thick accent and wears outfits that her grandmother handmade for her. She is just such a happy and honest person that her infectious smiles and laughter gets to you, even through the TV. Also, her rather plain looking beauty translates onto the camera in a gorgeous way. If Nicole doesn't win I want Laura to be up there!

But whether or not these girls win, I will still love this show. I'm too hooked to stop now! And yes, I watch Canada's Next Top Model too! It's just as entertaining, although there is less Tyra to enjoy.

So, do any of you watch ANTM? What reality TV shows are you guys addicted to?

*********

Walk, walk; fashion baby
Work it; Move that bitch crazy

Any Questions?

I decided to create this post like we do when we're doing free writing. I saw a picture of the milky way and gave myself a time limit to produce a story...

* * *
..."And that concludes today's lesson on space," Miss Johnson announced to the class. Her second grade class was sitting less than enthused at her lesson on the solar system. She gazed around the room at the little boys and girls that stared back at her with wide eyes. One little boy was dozing off at the back of the classroom. She sighed at the lack of response. The solar system is too advanced a subject for such underdeveloped minds, she thought sourly."Are there any questions?" she said as she twirled the chalk in her hand. One little boy's hand shot up into the air:

"Is the milky way made out of milk?" the young boy asked. There were a few giggles around the room. Chris was always making jokes. It seemed every class has at least one class clown. Miss Johnson strained from rolling her eyes and smiled patiently.

"Of course not," she replied. Chris smiled triumphantly at his ability to waste the teacher's time, even if it was just for a second. "If there are no more questions, let's move onto math. Everyone take out their noteb-" One of the quieter students, Sophie, quickly raised her hand. "Yes, Sophie?"

"I don't understand," Sophie said quietly.

"What is it you don't understand?" Miss Johnson said, her patience wearing thin. She wanted to move on to subtraction.

"I don't understand the universe."

"Well, that's a very broad subject," Miss Johnson replied, trying to conceal her fatigue, "what in particular don't you understand?"

"First of all, I don't understand how the universe can on for ever,"Sophie explained. "I mean, how can something go on forever; everything has to end, doesn't it?" Students around her perked up; listening in interest and nodding their heads in agreement. Sophie continued, her confidence building, "And if the universe ended, there would have to be something beyond it, right? So then I don't understand what would come after the universe? Another universe? But then what would be beyond that? It would have to end because everything comes to an end eventually, right? But also, I don't understand how the universe could not end, because how can there be nothing after the universe? Is there such thing as nothing? Is it like in cartoons where it's just a blank, white space? But then what would be beyond that?" Sophie took a moment to catch her breath, as the questions she always tossed around in her mind poured out. Miss Johnson was looking overwhelmed. But she continued: "And how was the universe created? Like, if it was God that created the universe, what was there before? How did God create something from nothing? And where was He if there was no universe to exist in? How could he exist in nothing? And then if you do not believe in God, how did the universe get here? And then what would have existed when the universe didn't, because something had to have existed? And also - "

"Sophie! One question at a time, please," Miss Johnson said exasperatedly. The class stared back at her, expectantly. Miss Johnson's head was beginning to pound. She had no idea what to tell the little girl. "Unfortunately, Sophie, we have to move on to math." Sophie frowned, clearly disappointed to not have answers. "So, before we begin on subtraction, did everyone understand the addition from yesterday?" The class sat quietly, clearly still thinking about the questions the little girl opened their eyes to. Miss Johnson wanted desperately for them to move on to math. "Really? No problems at all?" she asked as she smiled encouragingly at the quiet classroom. "Nobody has any questions?"

A dozen hands shot into the air.

Miss Johnson rubbed her forehead, exhaustion seeping in. "About the math homework?"

All the hands went down.

- - -

So when I first looked at the image, I didn't think I would have taken the approach I did. But it was a fun story to write that proves that you should never underestimate the intelligence and insight of youth.

Week 4 posts

Hi everyone!

Hope you enjoyed the turkey! I just wanted to remind you that asking questions is a great way to get the feedback that you want, and a helpful thing to do when giving feedback too! Asking for feedback on particular elements will help you out!

From the state of intoxication

Hey, this is my 20 line poem assignment. This poem is in my opinion a cleeshay, about a boy who's girlfriend breaks up with him, and now he is drowning his sorrows in liquor as a substitute for actual affection.
Enjoy.

Happy washes over me
as the shot glass begins to fall
the liquid love goes down with glee
I'm feeling ten feet tall

I am invincible
to all who might cross my path
liquid love by my mistress.
The slightest sound seem to make me laugh.

My speech slurred,
my vision blurred,
i take another dip
from liquid love my only friend.

Liquid love give me strength
to face my demons so,
i might stand straight with pride
in the morning glow.

The black veil of night drips over mine eye
as i depart of this scene,
of ghostly shadows on the floor,
and poor...lovesick...teens.

Hey i would love to hear what you thought of this piece, any suggestions, thanks.

oops.

Hey guys, Happy Thanksgiving!
I posted my second blog under Friday's date (which was when i began writing it) ... please check it out! :)

Anne Rice is a genius

Hey, so this weekend I decided to watch all my favourite movies. Staring with the cult classic inspired by Anne Rice hugely popular Vampire Chronicles series Queen of the Damned. Its safe to say that i never got to the other movies on my list, and have now seen it three times in three days.

The movies and most of the books follow the eternal life of the vampire Lestat de Lioncourt. Lestat is a bold, enthusiastic vampire with a taste for defiance, which earned him the nickname the brat prince.

In Queen of the Damned, Lestat awakes from 100 years of rest to find that the world has transformed from the aristocratic society of the 1800's to the Gothic punk clad years of the 90's. He becomes a rock star in a goth punk band. That conquers the world of music and pop culture. But Lestat's music has awaken an old friend. Akasha the queen of all who are damned awakes from 4000 years of sleep to plunge the world back in to darkness and suck the blood from every living thing, mortal and immortal. Lestat becomes her companion that must choose between ruling over a kingdom of corpses by akasha's side or protecting the lives of the people he will inevitable kill later.

I personally love these books. Anne Rice is a genius that has written not just the best fantasy series of all time, but one of the best series of all time. (Stephenie Meyer eat your heart out.) With timeless characters and a riveting plot line its hard to not love these fantastic literary gems.
The novels themselves are works of art, an intertwining complex story of love, betrayal, loneliness and self realization. Characters that have an eternity to find themselves and realize what they have become as a result of vampirism.

Unfortunately for all of us, Anne Rice herself found spirituality about 6 years ago, and has refused to write anymore dark demonic novels about vampires and her other hugely popular series the Mayfair Witches because they violate her religious beliefs.
But fortunately, we avid Rice fans still have her collection of works prior to 2003.

To close, these are wonderful books. They are targeted to an older reading audience, so definitely not for 12 year old twilight fans, but for teens they are perfect. If you are ever looking for an interesting read, try a copy of Interview with the vampire( first book of the series).

If you have ever read any of the novels, i would love to hear your opinion.

My Fall soundtrack

So both my posts this week will be relating to the fall. I really do love it. It's a great season to dress, for music, for colours, smells and sounds!

I love music in the fall. Every fall, it's a different band and a different sound. This weekend, I was in Toronto, at a music store when I came across a CD I've been wanting to get for quite some time. Now, this is big for me to actually want to spend money on music. I have 7 gigs of music on computer, none of which I've actually bought. This CD however, would add a 350 mb exception to my library of tunes.

Monsters Of Folk, a truly unique band, is my soundtrack this fall. Comprised of indie producer god, Mike Mogis, Conor Oberst, Jim James and M-Ward. I've listened to the CD fully 3 or 4 times now, and I'm absolutely in love. It's diverse, unique, and fresh. One of the most appealing features of this album is that Jim James, Conor Oberst, and M-Ward all add something different, while Mike Mogis sits back, plays guitar and produces it all.


Each member of the band comes from an already successful band in it's own way. Mogis and Oberst from Bright Eyes, M-Ward has his own solo career and Jim James from My Morning Jacket. Each member adds a very unique and powerful variety in singing. Most of the songs feature a very neat structure. They all share vocal duties, and often cycle through with each verse.

For example, the song Baby Boomer (arguably the best song on the album) begins with Jim James singing the first verse, and Oberst singing the second. They all come together in harmony during the chorus, and split once more during the remaining verses. This creates a really powerful effect, complimenting each of the artists.

Perfect for fall, Monsters of Folk has a classic rock sound, while having a raw indie feel to it. With songs that are pumped up with acoustics, mandolins, electric guitars and drums; other songs are stripped down to just a single guitar, and a trio of calming voices.

Autumn Falling

The leaves become crispy;
as the winds begin to chill,
The clouds settle in;
Causing the trees to play,
A new soundtrack is laid down,
Replacing the Summer;
With new sights and sounds.

Autumn falls in, as the summer drifts,
the sound of waves fade; the insects die,
What was once green, is now orange, red and brown,
The soft mud is now cold dirt,
Dew on grass; now frost,
The trees begin to shed,
As they litter the grass.

The days are lost, as the nights are found,
My face grows tender,
My fingertips, icy,
The air I breathe is cold,
The warmth I exhale, visible,
My cheeks rosy;
As I try to keep my hands warm.



In the heart of wood,
Once surrounded by thick air,
& Distant laughter, and the hum of play,
I stand in silence, blanketed with comfort,
The air so chill, so crisp
as I breathe, my nose hollowed out by the cold,
My lungs frosty, my veins icy,
At last; Love is found,


--------------------------


This something I wrote while very chilly, which influenced this quite a bit hehe. I love the fall, it's my favourite season. The colours are amazing, the air is clean, everything is so calm. It's not as wet as the spring, it's not as cold as the winter, and it's not as polluted as the summer. It's simply the best, so thats why I wrote this :)