The Kraemenator

Look, A Picture!

 Now, how many of you stopped mindlessly scrolling through your google reader feed and stoped to read this sentence, not because of the awesome person who wrote it, but because it immediatly followed a pretty picture?

My point is, when I open up my google reader feed, and find 109 unread blog posts, I will probably not stop to read more than the first sentence of your post, unless it A) has a picture somewhere (people like to look at pictures, don’t ask me why) B) has a really interesting first line (asking a question is a good way to start) or C) Manages to convince me that your post is really interesting and thus, worthy of my time. I don’t mean to sound like a jerk when I say that, it’s just that adding media will make more people people look at your work. Also, when you have a video to share, it would be a good idea to embed it instead of just linking to it (Here’s how), and having a snazzy title doesn’t hurt either.

Just some advice… Now that I (hopefully) have your attention here is a tour of my learning centre for you, enjoy.

and an extremely epic video that I created, about Lenin. Trust me, it’s worth your time to watch.

Now, I know you’re all itching to read my bibliography, but unfortunatly it is sitting on the school server for the moment, so you’ll just have to content youself with my thank you notes.

Liam StLouis:
You helped me come up with Lenin as a person  to do this project on, have helped me develop my speech, and have provided moral support when I felt like throwing my computer out the window.

My Family:
Thank you guys all so much for sitting through the dry runs of my speech, I realize that it was significantly less awesome than my later versions. All of you helped me get from idea to finished project. Also, thank you for the lessons you gave me about how to properly shake my fist at the audience.

(a copy of an e-mail sent to) Hellen Rapport:
Thank you very much for your time and for helping me with these questions. You have no idea how much they helped me in “getting to know” Lenin, and by extention, helping me with my project. I do appologise however, as I haven’t had time to read your book as this is a rather short project and I didn’t see it in the library when I went looking for research material. Thank you for taking time out of you busy schedual to answer these questions for me, your time is greatly appreciated by me.

Thank you again,
-Nicholas K.
 
P.S. Good luck with your book

Oh, and if any of you are interested, here is my speech

Ethics

Everybody has them.
Everybody’s are different.

You might call it a moral compass, right and wrong or even your religion, but everybody has their own personal set of ethics, and it guides peoples every decision whether they’re aware of it or not.

Ethics, the balancing of your actions to create right from wrong.

So what are ethics exactly? Well, everyone will tell you something different, and I’ll tell you that it’s that little voice inside your head that is constantly nagging at you to stop using plastic bags, give to the homeless shelter, or to let your friend/ sibling/ spouse have a chance to redeem themselves and earn your forgiveness after they’ve done something that particularly upsets you. For example, say it’s late, you’re tired and you still have a page of math to do. You could either not do it because you know that your teacher will give you the same mark regardless, even if this causes them extra stress, or you could do your math even though you’d really rather be doing pretty much anything else, because you don’t want people’s conditions to be worsened because of you.

A sense of right and wrong not only guides us in the decisions that we make, but it also makes up the fundamental things about us. Our personalities and very souls are made up of what we believe in, and what we believe in deviates from what we think is right. We act to change our surroundings. We act to make things right and to better things… as defined by our morals. A corporation may seem evil to some for destroying nature, but in it’s eyes, it’s making things better for it’s shareholders, it’s providing it’s employees with a way to survive and it’s trying to improve the world as it sees fit.

The lines between right and wrong are not always clear, in fact, they are often blurred and sometimes cross over each other. What may seem the right course of action to one man, may seem a complete atrocity to another, indeed, what may seem wise and noble to a man on one day can appear as a horrible act the next. These different, and often opposing views are the root of all human endeavors. Conflict, harmony, wonderment and destruction all stem from man’s different views and opinions, which are defined by our own personal moral code.

This leaves me to conclude that truth, is, has been, and always will be relative. As much as I would like it to be, there is no black and white in terms of right and wrong. There are only shades of grey. France recently tried (and succeeded) to ban women from wearing a burqa in public. Since France is a democratic country, evidently there is a great section of the population who thinks that it is morally and ethically right to prevent women from wearing burqas. However, the wearing of the burqa is a cultural part of many peoples lives, so there is also a great number of people (myself included) opposed to banning it. This is a prime example of different people’s personal ethics clashing with one another’s to create two very different opinions. Which one of these opinions is right? I can’t tell you. Can anyone else tell you? No, they can’t, or if they do, they’re lying. Truth is relative to he who is receiving and interpreting events around him and everyone has a different perspective on events.

Ethics, morals, ideals or a sense of right and wrong.

Everyone has them.
Everyone’s are different.

What is a tree?

Ask a logger, and he’ll tell you it’s food on the table. Ask a company, and it’ll tell you that it means happy shareholders. Ask a member of green peace, and they’ll tell you it’s something that needs to be protected at all costs. Ask a politician, and he’ll tell you whatever his voters think. Ask a Coast Salish native, and he’ll tell you it’s an integral part of his culture. Ask me, and I’ll tell you I don’t really know.

B.C. has been blessed with the fact that empires, with their need for land, weapons and wood didn’t really begin to arrive until a few hundred years ago. Therefore, BC is one of the few places left on earth where you can find huge forests in vast quantities. Even in Eastern Canada, there is significantly less forest than over here on the west coast.

So now humanity (or rather, B.C.’s government) is faced with the decision of what to do with this natural resource. Do we chop it all down? (probably a bad idea) Do we leave it alone and make the mere thought of chopping down a tree a crime? (also, probably a bad idea) Personally, I think that there’s no simple answer to this question. Logging creates hundreds of jobs, and it’s one of B.C.’s primary ways of making money. However, we can’t just go off chopping down whatever we like. As you have no doubt heard before, trees are rather important to the environment, which, in turn, is rather important to us.

So I pose the question to which there is no easy answer, “what should we do with this gift of trees that we have been given?” I think that the answer is in finding the right (and precarious) balance between prosperity, and responsibility. No answer will please everyone, but, we’ll have to do the best we can.

-Nicholas K.

Green.

It’s everywhere. Above me, below me and to all sides, like some sort of monster trying to swallow me whole. It’s in the trees, the ferns, the moss, the bushes and the plants. Seriously, when it comes to colour choices, the forest sure is lazy. I remember asking sarcastically around the table one night about why every single thing in the forest seemed to be only one colour. My son, ever the scholar and proud to show off his knowledge, took the liberty to tell me that green things were green because of photosythi-something. Not that it mattered. The whole place would be reduced to brown by the time I was done with it. I thought about this as I started up my chainsaw, the mechanical noise drowned out all those pesky birds… never figured out why people got all emotional over their singing. It’s just noise, and personally I prefer the noise of my chainsaw. It means a tree is about to be taken down by unstoppable me! God I love my job.

As I begin the last few moments of this tree’s life, I get that little high I always get when I’m about to earn my pay. There’s nothing quite like driving your saw into a tree. That sense of power that you feel, felling giant trees is one of the best sensations I’ve ever felt.

“TIMBER” I yell, but mostly for my own amusement, the others know exactly what’s happening, whether or not I yell out. The behemoth comes crashing down, and I’m pleased to see that it’s the biggest tree I’ve brought down all month. Maybe I’ll buy the first round of drinks tonight to celebrate my accomplishment.

“What do ya say? So you think we take this tree to the truck and then head back?” my buddy Mike asks me.

“Sounds good.” I say. “Now help me get these branches off this tree.”

We make short work of the tree and get it on the truck in almost record time. I’m ready to crack open a bottle and celebrate the end of the week.

“Come on man,” Mike shouts over the truck engine. “Hop in”.

“Tell ya what,” I shout back, “you take that old clunker down the hill, and I’ll race you there. I beat you to the T-junction, you owe me a beer.”

“You’re on!” he says, laughs and takes off.

I start sprinting straight down the hill, cutting off all of the switchbacks that Mike has to go down. The trees rush past me, threating to tear me apart should I collide with one of them, but that won’t happen, I own this forest, nothing can stop me. I see the junction up ahead, where the main logging road splits into this one and another. I slow my pace as I get to the junction. Mike’s just rounding the corner now, approaching the last 20 meters or so until he reaches me.

“What took you so long?” I ask Mike as I hop in the cab of the truck.

“Would you believe a huge mud patch I got bogged down in?”

“Nope” I reply. “And you owe me a beer.”