Eighteen chapters of craziness for your reading pleasure.
This chapter is dedicated to the
LHS janitorial team, who have done a fantastic job of keeping this place
presentable despite all the students' nonsense over the years.
I will briefly discuss the C Lunch Food Fight of 2009 from my point of view. This incident took place before the semester switch, which swapped out my first and fourth periods with different classes.
I have been bringing my lunch to school since the second half of 7th grade and had developed a habit of eating it relatively quickly so that I may enjoy and utilize the abundance of time other people use to wait in line before going back to class.
Most of the football team also had C lunch, and they shared the table next to the one at which I sat. After I'd finished eating, Dustin was repeating "Come on, throw it; that'd be hilarious." to someone who was holding up a fruit cup. This went on for some time with the occasional odd shout of "Food fight!" from random onlookers. Eventually, the tension reached a peak and I saw a tray of food come flying from the tables behind me. A blissful chaos ensued as everyone hurled the contents of their trays at the largest targets available then ran to the sidelines, shrieking and screaming if they'd been hit with something.
Staff members erupted from their meeting in the auditorium, roused like a hive of wasps into quelling the disturbance. As fast as it had began, it had ended. For a brief moment, life seemed a bit more laughable, an illusion which was enhanced by the presence of food splattered on the walls and security camera domes. I hadn't been hit by whatever it is they were serving that day, and was thankful for it as it seemed to be some sort of chicken casserole.
This event was the talk of the day and the next days, wherein my compatriots and I conveyed to eachother what we had seen. A friend of mine from 6th period, Daniel, said that he walked into the cafeteria just as it started and saw a stream of milk gliding through the air, after which trays went flying and people went running.
Afterwards came the "Bad things happen in C lunch, bad things happen to C lunch" speech from our other somewhat benevolent administrative overlords, a series of announcements that those like me scoffed at, as we know repercussive scenarios do virtually nothing to prevent a repeat situation. Sure, those involved were forced to clean, but my bet is they were laughing the entire time at the creative places the mess had found to stick itself to.
The past was awesome. For some reason, whenever I look back on how things used to be, I always find myself saying, "Man, that was great. If only things could still be that way..." One example of this is when cracking groups were huge on 8-bit computers and software for them, which was uploaded to and downloaded from BBSes. Some groups are still around, but the entire movement seemed more focused, organized, and visible back then.
Old technologies I'm not old enough to remember but wish I was often include older home computer systems such as the Commodore 64. I do remember MS-DOS 6.22, but I didn't really discover what was capable artwise on systems running it until I downloaded a 1991 game engine named ZZT. Some amazing stuff both then and now was produced in the ANSI art scene. These were the days when computers just worked if you had the technical know-how. A great website by the name of textfiles.com contains a massive archive of things produced during the BBS and Usenet eras.
Things seemed simpler, but were probably so much more complicated. Sometimes it's nice to wonder how much more rich or innovative the content could be if today's technologies were being used to render yesterday's graphical and sound standards. A lot of indie game developers, in lieu of artistic talent, make their games' graphics retro as hell and they end up being just fine. It can be a fun challenge to conform to these restrictions and still produce something worth playing, which could be why ZZT is still used, 18 years after it's creation. Working around its limitations to produce games is a fun and engaging experience.
"DAE le '90s??"
NOTICE: THIS IS A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY DREAMING SYSTEM. THIS IS ONLY A DREAM. NO PSYCHOLOGISTS ARE NECESSARY. DO NOT ADJUST YOUR DOCTOR.
This dream came in waves and was strange enough to inspire a video game project based on it. I was a sort of outlaw who went by the name of Akliiun. Some time ago, my hands had been replaced with cybernetic ones.
In wave one, I had been imprisoned on a moon base in some remote corner of the universe but was making friends with guards who had become tired of their administrators. My accomplices were William, one of the few human guards there, and Vazihr, another prisoner. The plan was to escape, stealthily if possible, during the next interrogation sweep. I would achieve this by means of a knife hidden in my cybernetic right arm, which I would use to untie myself if necessary, eliminate all interrogators and nearby guards, then get out of there. Our plan of action was to navigate to a high-security starship hangar by way of the ventilation system and hijack one of the ships contained therein.
In wave two, the breakout was in progress and we were undetected thus far but I had done something to break the trust of my partners and so had to sneak aboard the ship they were stealing. I encountered Vazihr in the hallway. She was surprised to see me. "You didn't think you were getting away that easily, did you?" The next thing I knew, I had been hit with a taser and was on the floor. William had entered from behind. He asked me, "You are one special kind of idiot, you know that?"
Wave three consisted of my brief imprisonment in the ship's brig, which I escaped by doing the chloroform rag thing on Vazihr when she came to visit with me thus leaving her to her own devices when she woke.
In wave four, I snuck through the ventilation systems and found her in the locked girls' shower room in some phase of transformation; her lower body had mutated into that of a worm-like creature and she now hung from the ceiling. This excited me greatly, as I had read about her species' biology and now had the opportunity to experience it firsthand. I knocked out the grating and jumped down.
"What are you doing
"Just thought I'd drop in."
"I can see that."
She paused. I stepped forward. She then presented two scythe-like limbs attached to her shoulders.
"I will not hesitate to kill you if you so much as think of coming near me."
"I don't doubt that."
I backed off and began to explain myself.
I don't remember the specifics, but she agreed to incorporate me into the transformation by assimilating me into a bubble-looking thing hanging from the ceiling called the 'slave cell'. This chamber would essentially turn me into a parasite, an extension of her, so that I could undergo the same physical changes as she would in the later stages of this evolution.
When I awoke in the short lived wave five, I felt as if I was no longer human, but something more. Indeed, I was(n't); my form had shifted into one similar to hers, a carapace-armored humanoid much more suited for combat and harsh environments. My arms retained their cybernetic properties, but the rest of me was unique again. I felt blissful and whole prior to waking up from this dream. If this isn't symbolism, I can't say what is. I also can't say what it symbolizes but it is clearly something that can be considered both magnificent and frightening.
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