My scattered, horror-stricken thoughts typed up, but without much rhyme or reason.

This actually isn't the big thing that I was going to write about (and I will get to it eventually). I just really feel like I should. Okay. Here we go.

I need to talk about violence, like, "fake" violence such as movies. Well, let's just start with movies. Okay, how many kids 10 or under do you know that watch movies today that you would NEVER be able to watch? I just went to see Spiderman 3 last night. It's easier to watch than 2 (or at least I thought so) simply because there isn't a scene like the hospital scene in 2. Nothing like that. Just plain violent, not my-nightmares-go-something-like-this stuff. But it was still violent. People are blown up, chopped up and run into walls at a rate that makes you wonder if the writers forgot there was such a thing as a concussion. AND CHILDREN WATCH THIS. Okay, I realize that some boys take a while to hit a growth spurt and guys that are fifteen can look like they're eleven, but they don't look like they're nine. Or if you want to go back to a different violent movie (Star Wars Episode III) they don't look like the're... oh,... I'd say about six. Yeah. Just because they can watch the old Star Wars doesn't mean anything for the darker movies of today. Just because it's based on a comic book doesn't mean it's for kids.

But do you want to know what scares me in all of this?

These kids, you know, the ones way younger than me, THEY'RE LESS AFFECTED THAN I AM BY THE VIOLENCE.

Now, you must understand that I was born with one of those blessing/curse things that you find in movies. Mine is an extremely vivid imagination. So violence affects me; like, if someone is getting stabbed, I can get pretty close to knowing how they feel, so I feel really bad for them. And some things just affect me. For instance, my parents took me to Chicago for my birthday and we went to Medieval Times (which was SO much fun). At Medieval Times they have a torture chamber museum thing, and so I wanted to go. And so we went. My whole family. Even my little brother and sister. And I saw things... and I get sick at the thought of it. AND MY SIBLINGS SAW IT!... AND MY BROTHER WASN'T AFFECTED AT ALL! After I rushed through it all I wanted was to keep him from seeing it. To keep him from seeing the horror that my mind was giving me. And I couldn't.

Well, I mixed up subjects there, but now you know my side of watching violence - I'm more affected.

The rest of the world? They aren't affected.

Because it's common.

Okay, I'll talk about Video Games. Specifically, I'll pick on Marvel: Ultimate Alliance (my siblings and I just bought it). This game consists of killing bad guys. At first they're robots, so it's cool. But then they're human. And your powers get scarier, so you're zapping the brains out of one or grabbing them with your web and using them as a weapon. Now I don't think about it while I'm playing, so we just keep going on and on and on. And then my brother starts talking. And I realize that the violence has had its effect. He loves it.

When a kid says something like "There's only a little bit of blood" or even "There's no blood" you've got trouble. They ascociate violence with blood. Just to let you know, something can be VERY violent and have no blood at all. So what is violence, anyway?

Violence |ˈvī(ə)ləns| noun behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something.

Yeah, I'll agree with that definition.

You can't just say that something is "fake". The point of a movie is to seem as real as possible, so while you're watching it (especially if you're young) that movie isn't fake. When war is going on in your backyard, you don't want your children to see. You don't want your children to start shooting at people. You don't want them beating people up. So why do you give them these roll models?

When you're a kid (or at least I was like this), you want to be tough, you want to be able to handle the violence. Then you see it, you can't handle it, you flip. Then you laugh at yourself, you talk yourself into believing that it's not that bad. Then you go back and watch it again. And it's not that bad.

Things need to be "that bad". Violence is shocking because it's wrong. Death is shocking because it's wrong. No one should be able to see someone die by being horribly mutilated and not be affected (I understand that this is sometimes nessesary for people in medical professions and people who fight in wars - I am not trying to say that they are wrong, actually they should be admired because they can handle it).

People are like the Romans with their gladiators. Nothing ever changes.

But please don't let your children see too much violence. Just because they CAN handle it doesn't mean they SHOULD.

Sorry. I'd love to say more. I'm just too sad.

Baby Sophia

Thank you to anyone that prayed. Keep praying. I just received word that Baby Sophia passed away last night. Please keep her family in your prayers.

Baby Sophia

Alright, I know it's been awhile since I've been on here with anything interesting (okay, I know that that's never happened - so make it Resonably Intersting) but I have a lot to say, It's just going to be a little longer until I can say it.

Right now, however, my bed is calling and I have no time. I have to let you know about one thing, however:

PLEASE PRAY FOR BABY SOPHIA!!!

That might not make any sense, but visit this link and it will. Please, PLEASE pray for this child. please pray.

www.caringbridge.org/visit/sophiamichelle

Thank you.

Right now I'm working on my Evolution paper thing. I keep hitting spots of inspriation and spots of braindead-ness. You never could have told me that I would have trouble meeting the word-minimum on a contest. I used to go thousands of words over-board. Now I'm sitting here desperately trying to collect my thoughts. I had so many ideas, but I only got a few of them written down. And it's due very soon. I have to finish it tonight. Inspiration. Gone. Oh Lord, please help me!

It's raining, it's pouring... but now it's not.

Today we went to the zoo, expecting it to rain... well around now. Instead, it started pouring on us as soon as we entered. Oh well. It was a lot of fun, but by the time we got to the insectarium I was soaked to the skin. I'm still slightly damp - but only slightly. We saw gi-antic spiders and millions of little gross bugs and beautiful butterflies. Then we ran off to the Living World part of the zoo so that I could try to figure out what I'm doing for the Evolution paper thingie that I'm working on. Just so you know, the St. Louis Zoo is awesome, but don't believe anything you read in the Living World. They've got evolution stuff in there that the evolutionists agree isn't true. They even have something that says that the sound that a mourning dove makes is the sound that the great horned owl makes! It's so sad. But I still love our zoo. Sorry, I'm kind of distracted right now, because Slyder (my cat) is attacking my sister's foot. Now he has to go back outside. Bandit will be happy. He hates that cat. Slyder's always attacking him. Oh well. Great. Now I'm way off the subject. OKAY. After we went to the Living World, my sister wanted to go to the Red Rocks (or something like that) part, which is where they keep all of the Girraffes and Okapis and kangaroos and animals like that. She's always loved that part. Then we ran to the other side of the zoo to see the penguins for my brother. I was glad that he picked the Penguin Puffin House, because I wanted to see them really bad, but my exibit was the Living World - the only reason we got to go today. I love the zoo.

Well, you probably didn't think that was interesting. Sorry. I'm on here because our internet is freaking out and I'm trying to make use of it while it's on. I've already done my chores, so I'm done for the day. I am so tired, though.

There's something that I want to tell (well, I'd like to tell ANYONE at this point) but I'm scared my mom reads my blog... well... I don't think that she'll get a chance to, but I can't take that chance. Well here: I'm getting her an Easter gift. Isn't that exciting? Now she'll know, so I hope that she doesn't read this before Easter. Well, if she does, then I could always get her something lame for Easter and save the present I have in mind for Mother's Day. The problem is that I'm impatient. I don't like waiting to give things to people. That's why I'm waiting so long to get it. The sooner I get it, the longer I have to wait until I get to talk about it. I never realize how much I talk until I can't.

Well, I'm going to see about ordering it now.

I'll write later... maybe there'll be something of more interest then!

Hey, it's raining again!

Good-bye!