Andrew Davis
Miss Smith
Enriched Language Arts 10- period 3
16/11/08
Thomas Payne Crisis Parody
What is this that stands before me? A man? I say that it is not! He who is overcome by sloth cannot be anything but one! I see before me one who has an accursed existence consisting of nothing more than his petty games and malnourishment. “Carpi Deum” to seize the day! This creature before me has but to outstretch his hand and he can seize the day for himself, but he lacks the will to do so. For very many years I have watched this loathsome creature develop from a stubborn child to a lethargic beast! For what else could he be, but a beast? With messy, unkempt hair and abominable posture the beast is quick to anger and lash out maliciously at those who tell him what he is.
Yet somehow I have come to call this monster friend. I have seen something within this terrible beast, a jewel that faintly sparkles amidst the squalid mire. I can see deep within this horrid beast the making of a lion, proud and strong! If only such an image were aloud to flourish, but alas, it seems to be repressed just barely below the surface, where it is seen, but cannot be reached.
I would like very much to impart a story upon this heathen beast. It is a story that has been passed down in my family for many generations from father to son until it was at last rendered unto me. Once upon a time there was a child who had everything his heart could want. It was surrounded by good friends and a loving family, but one fateful day everything was ripped away from the child. Stricken with grief and rage the child’s soul twisted and tore, until the child itself became a monstrous shell of its former self. It roamed the world, and driven mad with sorrow it murdered and maimed its way across continents! After a long and bloody age the monstrosity stopped its massacre, for each life it took only drove the spike of sorrow deeper into the tattered remains of its heart. For many years it lay dormant, until one day the monster was awoken by one who was so much like itself, yet not a monster! It was then that the creature learned to love again, and from that day the monster only took life when that life threatened to extinguish another. When the monster’s time upon the earth had met its end it was a monster no longer, but a hero! For it had saved many who had not the power to save themselves, and they held his memory dear for all the ages to come.
So now I say this of the beast that prowls the shadows of my footsteps, he is becoming a monster no more! Day by day he makes the tiniest conversion from beast to man. I have seen the apple that shines so brightly within his eyes, and the yearning to which he feels toward it! He can change! He will change, for the one he loves! For he can either change and embrace his love or remain a hideous self absorbed creature forever more. Man may slay the Monster, but only Beauty can tame the Beast.
Miss Smith
Enriched Language Arts 10- period 3
16/11/08
Thomas Payne Crisis Parody
What is this that stands before me? A man? I say that it is not! He who is overcome by sloth cannot be anything but one! I see before me one who has an accursed existence consisting of nothing more than his petty games and malnourishment. “Carpi Deum” to seize the day! This creature before me has but to outstretch his hand and he can seize the day for himself, but he lacks the will to do so. For very many years I have watched this loathsome creature develop from a stubborn child to a lethargic beast! For what else could he be, but a beast? With messy, unkempt hair and abominable posture the beast is quick to anger and lash out maliciously at those who tell him what he is.
Yet somehow I have come to call this monster friend. I have seen something within this terrible beast, a jewel that faintly sparkles amidst the squalid mire. I can see deep within this horrid beast the making of a lion, proud and strong! If only such an image were aloud to flourish, but alas, it seems to be repressed just barely below the surface, where it is seen, but cannot be reached.
I would like very much to impart a story upon this heathen beast. It is a story that has been passed down in my family for many generations from father to son until it was at last rendered unto me. Once upon a time there was a child who had everything his heart could want. It was surrounded by good friends and a loving family, but one fateful day everything was ripped away from the child. Stricken with grief and rage the child’s soul twisted and tore, until the child itself became a monstrous shell of its former self. It roamed the world, and driven mad with sorrow it murdered and maimed its way across continents! After a long and bloody age the monstrosity stopped its massacre, for each life it took only drove the spike of sorrow deeper into the tattered remains of its heart. For many years it lay dormant, until one day the monster was awoken by one who was so much like itself, yet not a monster! It was then that the creature learned to love again, and from that day the monster only took life when that life threatened to extinguish another. When the monster’s time upon the earth had met its end it was a monster no longer, but a hero! For it had saved many who had not the power to save themselves, and they held his memory dear for all the ages to come.
So now I say this of the beast that prowls the shadows of my footsteps, he is becoming a monster no more! Day by day he makes the tiniest conversion from beast to man. I have seen the apple that shines so brightly within his eyes, and the yearning to which he feels toward it! He can change! He will change, for the one he loves! For he can either change and embrace his love or remain a hideous self absorbed creature forever more. Man may slay the Monster, but only Beauty can tame the Beast.
