College application

To whom it may concern,

My return address is on the reverse side of this letter; just mail my acceptance letter and rooming plan there. I know exactly what you’re thinking. Cocky? Overconfident? Presumptuous? False. My name is Zachary French and I am undoubtedly the best student your university could ever have the privilege of housing. Once again, I know what you’re thinking, “Why is this kid any better than the next?” Well, first of all, you should be able to tell that I can read minds. Second of all, the word perfection was derived from my middle name, Perfecticus.

Chuck Norris bows down to me; his ability to slam a revolving door shut is nothing in comparison to what I have achieved. I created Mount Everest by piling dirt on itself with a plastic shovel and was the first person to climb it. I plugged a ‘clapper’ into the sun and can make it night time by simply clapping my hands twice. I challenged Muhammad Ali to a fight and won because he fled at the thought of climbing into the ring with me. The boogie man is afraid of me, and so is North Korea.

When I stub my toe, I hurt the wall.  When I go to sleep the world falls silent so they do not awaken me.  When I act in theatres, good things happen when I say ‘Macbeth’. As amazing as I may be, I must confess I cannot defy the laws of physics… I can just change them, and even ask Stephen Hawking, it all makes sense.

I can do absolutely anything, and as you can tell from my completely honest examples I am the perfect student for your university. Now for my conclusion, I will leave you with a simple question. Shall I start packing tonight or tomorrow?

-Zachary French

              

Adding Details

43 hours. It has been 43 hours since I last slept. Exhaustion is seeping in, I can feel it overwhelming my body, yet I’m unable to sleep. Slumped over in a chair with my immediate family surrounding me in silence, we sit in plastic folding chairs waiting for an update. My little brother’s condition is completely unknown to us, yet the only thing that separates us from him is this thin wall covered in peeling wallpaper with a faded purple flower design on it and two large doors which have been freshly painted a crisp, bright red. Thoughts race through my mind as fast as they can in my sleep deprived state, and I continue to gaze around the bland room. I notice the secretaries in the office situated snugly in the corner of the room seem to be laughing and gossiping. Two middle aged ladies exchange banter and then both squeal in a seemingly endless cycle. I can’t believe it. People are sitting a mere 10 feet away from them and they’re laughing and chatting like two teenagers after school. Despite feeling agitated by the nurses and the severity of the situation, I start to doze off, my head dropping down onto my chest. Eyelids drooping, I see the dirty black runners I strapped on before rushing to the hospital and the black and white chessboard pattern of the floors. I hear the squeaking of door hinges desperately in need of lubrication and I see a doctor in full scrubs emerge. He peels off his surgical mask from left to right, revealing a hardened face. His face was covered in brown stubble which matched his short, dark brown hair. His small eyes revealed little to nothing, he showed neither happiness nor sympathy. Without seeing a sign of immediate success, my eyes dart over to my mother who covers her mouth and nose with her hands, eyes welling up instantaneously. The agonizing silence was broken by the doctor who said in a completely monotone voice, “French family?”

The Beatles In Hamburg

The Beatles, composed of John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Stuart Sutcliffe had ventured from Liverpool to Hamburg, Germany and was in need of a drummer, as they did not have a permanent one. Harrison had seen a good drummer playing in a club, and his new drummer was going to be Pete Best. The group had been booked for a full season of shows, but they did not expect the events of Hamburg to unfurl the way they had. They had to live in the Bambi Kino, stuck in an old storeroom without heating. The group was also expected to use water from the urinals for washing and shaving themselves. The Indra Club was where they would play on a schedule of 8:30-9:30, 10-11, 11:30-12:30, and finishing by playing from 1-2 in the morning. Their group had started playing at a new club, The Kaiserkeller, after the Indra was shut down due to noise complaints. Despite a newer, nicer venue, their playing schedule had remained the same. The Beatles had eventually broken their contract by playing at another club and Harrison was deported for being underage, McCartney and Best had been arrested and deported for attempted arson after lighting a condom on fire, and Lennon had taken a train back home.

Slam Poetry Analysis

Poet: Taylor Mali

Poem: What Teachers Make

Synopsis: Taylor Mali is asked, “What do you make?” and he responds not with an answer about money, but how he makes a difference in society. He addresses how people are often judged by how much money they make doing a job, not by what they do, and that is unfair. He indirectly raises the point that a person should not be judged based on the income they make, but the outcome of their profession.

Important Poetic Technique: Taylor Mali’s use of simile is extremely important. When he says, "I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor...", and "...an A- feel like a slap in the face if the student did not do his or her very best." I feel he means that as a teacher, he marks students based on what he knows they are capable of, and can develop a strong work ethic which is extremely important both in and beyond the realm of school.

Favorite Line: “Let me break it down for you so you know what I say is true; I make a god damn difference, now what about you?” This line is my favorite because it forces the listener to think about whether or not a job that doesn’t make a difference in the world but can pay well is as respectable as a job that pays considerably less but influences countless numbers of people to change for the better.


Poet: Common

Poem: A Letter to the Law

Synopsis: Common believes that the government abuses its power of control of the law. He says how black people are discriminated and stereotyped to be criminals, and when they are accused of crimes, it’s a bigger deal than if a white person did the same thing.

Important Poetic Technique: I believe the rhyme scheme is very important. The way he delivers the poem is in the tone of a rap, which I feel helps establish his point about black people being stereotyped as criminals and the injustice of the American justice system.

Favorite Line: “I hold up a peace sign, but I carry a gun” is a paradox because guns represent the exact opposite of peace, but also implies the another paradox of ‘If you want peace, you must prepare for war.’


Poet: Shihan

Poem: Father’s Day

Synopsis: Shihan loves poetry, and his family alike. He spends a large amount of his time away from his family, and one day his daughter asks him if he still loves her. Shocked and stunned, he contemplates whether doing the thing he loves and spending all the time away from the people he loves is worth it or not.

Important Poetic Device: He uses imagery very well. While he doesn’t describe the situation fully, when he talks about his daughter asking if “[He] still loves her” a mental struck me clear as day. It was an extremely powerful quote, and the way he would describe moving mountains like grains of sand later on in the poem was just as strong.

Favorite Line: “So you tell me if everything I’m saying is worth me missing my family for” was an extremely exceptional quote. It shows his passion for poetry and his family, and being torn with having to balance the two. He loves his family and his job, but to spend time with one, he has to put the other on hold.

Homework Blues

      "As I shuffled into the classroom, I knew that Mr. Van Camp would never believe me. I looked at my scuffed shoes and mumbled, " My homework is not done, Sir. I do have a good excuse though."

     "This is not the first time your homework has not been completed. Perhaps," Mr. Van Camp suggested, "it's time to speak with your parents."

     "Please, you have no idea what will happen to me if you phone my home. My parents will kill me for sure," I moaned.

     "Well, let's hear your excuse. It better be good."

    “Okay, so I was at Tim Horton’s during lunch hour as you can tell,” I held up my mangled and torn cup of coffee, “and I’m pretty sure it was bad enough to call a riot.”
   
    “There was a riot in Tim Horton’s?” Mr. Van Camp scoffed at the idea, “That’s preposterous.”
   
    “I’m being serious!” I raise my voice, “Even ask Corbin, he was there!”Mr. Van Camp turns to him and inquires,

“Is it true?” and after receiving a nod of the head from Corbin, he started to consider the fact that my story may be true. He turns back to me, and states, “Okay, continue.”

    “Okay, so I finished my coffee and it was near the end of lunch, about 1:30, so we decided to go back to school. Just as we were leaving, I rolled up my cup and stopped to read that I had won a car.”

    “Zach, this story isn’t even remotely believable. Nice try though.” Mr. Van Camp started to walk away from me.

    “I had yelled out that I won the car,” I continued as if he was still interested in my story with a hope that he was listening, “Immediately people swarmed me, everybody wanting to grab the cup and see it for themselves. I tried to make my way to the counter, fighting through the crowds-“

    “This is the cheesiest story I’ve ever heard. How many times did you rehearse it?” He proved to me that he was indeed listening, but he still didn’t believe me. I continued,
   
    “Anyways, I made it to the counter only to be told that I need someone older than 18 to be with me when claiming a major prize because minors can’t receive cars. Everybody around me started volunteering to take the car, and a few people even offered me money.”
    “You should’ve taken the money,” someone in the class called out, “You could’ve paid Van Camp off to give you an A!”  I struggle to continue my story, competing with the laughter of the class,

    “I wasn’t going to take the money; I mean a car is way better than a thousand dollars!” the tone of my voice becomes agitated, “So get this, some jerk walks up to me, hits me in the face and grabs my cup! I don’t care you who are, even if it’s a losing cup, you don’t grab my coffee. Ever.”

    “So let me guess, you engaged in a 30 minute long chase with guns and explosions and cars, only to end up here with a mangled cup and a terrible excuse?” Mr. Van Camp has written off my excuse at this point, and I could tell.

    “Nope, no car chase, I just watched him run into the door on the right, which is always locked. He dropped faster than a boulder being pushed from a cliff. The problem was, as I first stated, the ‘riot’ that happened.”
   
    “This’ll be good.” Mr. Van Camp sarcastically stated.

    “Well, I won’t go too far into detail, but about fifteen people dove for the cup, and I’ve got to say, the situation exploded really quickly. Within seconds, people were being thrown around and tables were being flipped all for a cup. The employees all just stood at the counter, unable to do anything.”

    “Then let me guess, you grabbed the cup from the ground and ran to the school to escape all of the deranged customers?” Van Camp walked to his desk, “So I guess you’ll be getting a zero on this assignment.”

    “No, I swear it’s true!” I cry out, “You’ve gotta believe me! What proof could I possibly bring to you other than this cup that will prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”

    “I don’t know but it better be good.” Van Camp feels the floor start to shake as if there were a group of elephants stampeding through the hallways. I make eye contact with Mr. Van Camp and smirk,

    “Well, here comes your proof.”

Letter For My Life

 

Zachary French   

330 Carmel Crescent

Okanagan Falls, B.C.

V0H 1R5February 22, 2013



Captain Van Camp
Commander
HMS Princess Margaret

O Captain, My Captain:

        Nobody on this submarine has a reason to die, but how many actually have a reason to live? How many people will be able to cope with the fact that their friends and classmates have been killed to ensure their life? I guarantee there are few people who can successfully manage that burden, and out of those few people, who will do something worthwhile with their life? I will not grovel, nor will I complain, but I believe my life should be spared. It will be a few days before rescue arrives, and you must think of who you would rather be stuck on a submarine with. I doubt you’d want to be trapped under the sea with Jesse for days on end; especially while you have to deal with the stress of having killed your students to save a few. Would it not be much more relieving to save students who you can have an intelligent conversation with? You must also consider the amount of oxygen that is in the submarine with the size of the people. I’m not very large, so I will require less oxygen than someone such as Tanner. If you read Cody’s plea for his life, you will see that he is obviously a liar trying to keep himself save for another day. Would you want that monstrosity of a person walking around in society? I am not self centered, I can uphold an intelligent conversation, and I don’t use as much oxygen as others. Society will not only benefitted by saving myself, but ridding itself of other people such as Corbin Graham, who are believe they are perfect. Our class has given your our pleas for life, and you have considered whether or not we should live. The only thing I can ask of you now is why should you live?

Sincerely, 
Zachary French