Come and Take it

"We view ourselves on the eve of battle. We are nerved for the contest, and must conquer or perish. It is vain to look for present aid: none is at hand. We must now act or abandon all hope! Rally to the standard, and be no longer the scoff of mercenary tongues! Be men, be free men, that your children may bless their father's name." - Sam Houston

As I was driving home from church today I found myself listening to conservative talk radio, as is my custom on Wednesday nights. I was listening and heard Chris Krok on air. He was livid to the point of standing up in the studio nearly screaming about the injustice that is happening in this nation.

The topic at hand was Senator Royce West's statements in March regarding the Trayvon Martin case.

Sen. West stated at a rally, "I’m going to ask the Lt. Governor to have the Criminal Justice Committee of the Senate study the Castle Doctrine in light of the Trayvon Martin assassination in Florida.”

Remember Goliad!

This Texas senator from Dallas is challenging the very fabric of what makes us Texans. The reason Texas even exists as a state at all is because we have a passion to stand up for what is right. Instead of the sentiment that has been stated by some that we as citizens are obligated to run, instead as a nation we should be obligated to stand up and fight for what is right!

While I am not in agreement with what Mr. Zimmerman has done and I am in full support of the Murder 2 conviction that he has received; I am APPALLED to see that people, including Sen. West, are comparing the Trayvon Miller case to a clean cut self defense case here in Dallas. Using sensationalism and the emotional turmoil caused by the racial issues related to a completely unrelated case in Florida.

Remember the Alamo!

Our country is changing, we are on the verge of losing the rights that make us American. While West himself admits, "There’s no way in the world we are going to do away with the Castle Law in the state of Texas," his actions are stating that he actually believes the opposite. He is not only of the opinion that the doctrine should be changed, he is actively trying to overturn this doctrine.

Read the case that Sen. West is challenging.

A man is being attacked in his home, he defends himself and now is having to defend himself in front of a grand jury. This goes against everything that we as Texans AND as Americans have stood for since the founders signed the Declaration of Independence. They were signing it in defiance of the British tyranny and then many of them died defending their homes.

Unfortunately, the loss of rights have become more and more common place in today's society. Unless we as citizens stand up to protect ourselves from tyranny, we will find ourselves in society that is not unlike modern day North Korea.We need to put aside racial issues and stand together in defense of our country.

Remember, the wise words of Rosa Parks "Stand for something or you will fall for anything. Today's mighty oak is yesterday's nut that held its ground."

The National Defense Authorization Act

Forgive me as some of my writing was copied from a previous blog. This is the letter I sent to Congresswoman Eddie Bernice Johnson, D - TX Congressional District 30.

Lady Congresswoman,

The Declaration of Independence states, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
This declaration's statement was not written with the clause, "Unless that person is a terrorist." It does not make the provision, "If that person's having rights is quite convenient for you." It has a kind of universality to it. This declaration was and is a symbol for those who are being oppressed worldwide. It is indeed the very foundation of this nation. All men are created equal! This extends to all genders, race, religion and nationality. Not only is the National Defense Authorization Act a violation of the rights of American citizen's it flies in the face of everything that this country was founded upon. The right to a fair trial and being presumed innocent until proven guilty. If this bill is passed it will change the face of this nation forever. We will cease to be a Democratic Republic.
“If Tyranny and Oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy,” James Madison said.
Our government has scared its people into blind submission through threats of terror and foreign enemies. They have policed the world as a way to slowly leech our liberty.
This in itself has perverted the very foundation of our nation – the Constitution – into some kind of living document that should be changed instead of followed.
“Do not separate text from historical background. If you do, you will have perverted and subverted the Constitution, which can only end in a distorted, bastardized form of illegitimate government,” Madison said.
Benjamin Franklin once said, "They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." I believe that this alone speaks volumes in opposition of The National Defense Authorization Act. While we have already trampled on the rights of Americans with the Patriot Act of 2001. Do not further remove our nation from its very foundations.
In conclusion, I urge you to vote against this Act.

"As for me, give me liberty or give me death!" - Patrick Henry

I urge you ALL as well to contact your representative and save our country.

~Stu

I'm Back!!!

So... after about a year and a half on hiatus (Yes I spelled it right) I have decided to pick this back up. Not because I think I have any readers or I am trying to change the world, but because I miss it. So look out world I am going to attempt to blog once a week (at least) for one year. I am trying to come up with some series and themes so that I don't get bored and so that if anyone comes across this blog they might be interested. The most recent change to the iPlatt blog you may have noticed is the addition of some older posts. This is because I decided to get rid of the other blogs I had (that I had also been ignoring) and put it all in one place. I hope that none of the old poetry/whiny/depressing literature below has not deterred any one. This blog will now take on the personality of its author and not take itself too seriously. :)

Stay tuned more to come!!!!

Notepad rant

I'm a little obsessed with notepad of late.
I Love that it reminds me of a type writer.
With technology booming, it reminds me of a simpler time.
Strange what is considered old or antique in this world.
I think it's the font.

Maybe it's the fact that this little program can do so much
It can simply be used to write a note. Or write HTML code,
or write a program. Yes technically you need something else
to run it but you could still write it here.
There's so much in life that is taken for granted.
Money, Food, Clothing, Water, Healthcare, Freedom, Family,
friendship, generosity, goodness, Love...

In today's western society, we have this sense of entitlement
that if left unchecked will be the demise of our culture.
Sporting Coaches are fired for speaking too harshly,
Hitting some one who deserves it could send you to jail.
Not warning someone that what they are doing could be harmful
could end with you paying them millions of dollars for their stupidity

We need the newest and best of everything, no matter what.
House, Cars, clothes, food, make-up, entertainment, even lightbulbs.
When did things like books go out of style?
or when did learning get replaced with test scores?

Our government was elected by promising the American people that
if they are elected all of our dreams will come true.
That we'll never want for anything, That without earning it we'll
be given everything. and what's worse we think we deserve it!
Our "money for nothing and our chicks for free"

When did we forget? There's no such thing as free.
There always has been and always will be a price!
The price of freedom has been lives lost.
The price of our dreams is sacrifice and dedication.

You cannot lie down and expect everyone and everything to cater to you
it doesn't work that way. Life doesn't work that way.
People want fair, LIFE'S NOT FAIR!
People want easy, LIFE'S NOT EASY!

There will always be a struggle,
there will always be a fight of good vs. evil.
There will always be the decision between hard and easy
And the result of Easy will never be as good as hard.

Unless something drastic changes, America will go the way of Greece
and Rome before her. I have heard the statement,
"If America was to fight for its Independence from England today,
we'd still be part of the UK." and conversely that same statement
restated of WWI and WWII.

But, I must believe that it is untrue.
I must believe that there are enough good men still left in this
country that would stand strong in the face of oppression.
Many of them I believe have been to Iraq and back.

My prayer is that we will finally come to our senses as a nation.
and that good men will no longer be silent in the face of
foolishness and tyranny.

TIPA Awards

I received two awards from the Texas Intercollegiate Press Association this year. If you are interested in reading them, here they are. I hope you enjoy them as much as they did.

First place in Division 5 Newspaper for a Feature story
Hurricane Ike

Third place in Online for Best breaking news story.
Obama Election

and the actual election story that ran in the paper...
Bells Election Story

Enjoy! =)

On Nasal Congestion

Since I was five years old (which is essentially as far back as I can consciously remember) I have had sinus problems. I can remember at that fragile age driving for hours to a specialist in Los Angeles to have them subject me to numerous tests all of which were uncomfortable and some of which were painful (and scary I might add) for a five year old. Of course, they would be uncomfortable for an adult too. I remember getting two gigantic stamps that covered both of my arms with black ink. Anyone that's had this torture test is familiar with the idea that the stamps are only designed to cover your wrists or forearms with ink boxes depending on how many different things for which you are being tested. I had ink boxes stamped all the way up to my armpits (almost). This of course is not the worst part of the test, after your arms are covered with ink boxes that are each individually labeled with a different selection of things for which to be allergic. Then they bring you into a room hold your arms still and inject you with everything known to man. A small prick in each box, everything from plants to soil, animals to food. When you only have a few on the wrist, not too torturous. When you have hundreds and you are five it is quite dramatic experience. Of course all of the pricks itch at first and then only the ones you are allergic to itch, but they for into ant-bite-like bums that itch like crazy and you are not allowed to move. People wonder why I don't like hospitals.
Aside from dramatic experiences being tested for allergies the actual allergies themselves have been much more traumatic over the years. Sneezing uncontrollably, hay-fever, post nasal drip, countless nose bleeds, a hernia caused by sneezing, severe sinus pressure and a yearly battle against sinus infections.
SINUS INFECTIONS. My hatred for you is most severe. I have said I do not like hospitals because of traumatic experiences, here's another one.
Again during one of the most tragic periods of my life just before the allergist stamp test experience I found myself again as a five year old in the hospital with a severe sinus infection. The doctor's were unsure what was the cause of my problems and decided that I needed to give blood. My mom took me to the appropriate area of the military hospital and we waited. When it was my turn the young naval nurse took me to the chair and strapped me down. Let me describe this chair. Have you seen the electric chair? No exaggeration it was that chair with large leather straps for your waste and twice on the arms without the head part. After having been strapped down to the torture chair the nurse then took what looked like an inkwell pen and forced it into my arm. I closed my eyes and held my mother's hand. Just when the worst was nearly over the nurse says to me, “Look it looks like kool-aid.” I looked and saw the large gauge hose protruding from my arm filled with a bright red ooze. I don't remember anything after that moment. From that moment on, every time any needles have been in or around my body I have lost all consciousness. I have of course been able to prevent the black outs by never looking at the needle. A grown man who passes out from needles. Sad.
Finally, many people have tried to convince me that sneezing is enjoyable if you embrace them, never have I sneezed and it felt good in any way. I despise the very thought of it.

Train ride

I half expected the conductor to yell, “All aboard,” as I boarded the southbound Amtrack from Dallas to Temple. I climbed the narrow stairs and found an empty seat on the second to last car.
“I wonder if they still call it the caboose?” I thought to myself silently.
My bags stored above me I plopped myself down onto the seat and threw my backpack that was filled with various technological devices into the empty window seat next to me. I did this partly to claim the seat as my own so as to be able to spread out comfortably and partly to ward off any freaks wanting to chat my ear off for the next four and a half hours. I was in no mood for talking.
This was my first time to ride the train and I was (for the most part) impressed. I had almost expected the seat to be made of hard wood and that at any moment we may be overtaken by bandits on horseback who would undoubtedly loot us for the strong box. Instead, riding coach reminded me more of an airplane than of a train and was in actuality was much better than air travel in many ways.
As I settled in and the train began to pull out of the station my thoughts began to wander back to the city that I was leaving. The sapphire blue eyes of the girl I loved and the tears we had shed an hour ago. It was a hard time for us both and work had again separated us from each other. I brushed her hair away from her forehead as our bodies surged together for yet another long goodbye kiss. We stood together in the rain holding each other close one last time until we would once again see one another. At least how I liked to remember it. In reality a quick peck on the cheek and a muttered goodbye was all that was exchanged as she dropped me off at the station. A quick mumbled, “I love you baby,” was all I replied in return as I rushed off to barely catch the train. It didn't matter, either way my heart still ached for her.
The train lurched back and forth unsteadily on the track as it reached full speed.
“Eighty miles an hour,” some one across the aisle was saying.
“Not too bad for an old steam engine,” I commented sarcastically.
The constant sway of the train reminded me of the cruise that my family had taken a few years before. How I had bragged to my sick cousins that as a pirate and a lover of the sea and as such would never succumb to seasickness. Perhaps my constant state of inebriation had more to do with my apparent immunity to motion sickness than any nautical infatuations. I was starting to feel a bit woozy. This was the same feeling I had on the night that I had first kissed my then girlfriend. My stomach was turned upside down in nervousness. When the time came, I prayed to Jesus that I wouldn't hurl. Thankfully, my prayer was answered and fireworks came instead of my lunch. How I miss those soft lips.
The train stopped and my unhealthy bad habits came back. I left the train with a half-empty can of grizzly. Upon re-boarding I pulled out my pen and notepad. Having just come back from a writer's conference, I was inspired to to finally finish that novel that I had promised myself to finish before Christmas but which had instead gotten lost in the shuffle of life. As pen touched paper my mind began reeling with imagination and I instead attempted to write a poem. Having finished the poem I was reminded why I had not yet become a famous poet. It was, as is often the case, too strange to be clever and too disjointed to compile one complete thought. I often think that I am too strange to write. My imagination runs wild turning the most mundane scenes into a fairytale dreamscape in which you will find the most fantastic and horrible creatures ever concocted. Any original idea or thought is often lost in the mangled mess of my mind.
“Would you like to make a dinner reservation?” said the large well dressed black man standing next to my chair.
In his hands he held a menu and what I assumed was the dinner reservation list and he had a pleasant look about his face.
“No thank you,” I replied.
My destination was not far enough to warrant the need to pay for overpriced train food. I probably should not have assumed that the food was overpriced or not quality food for that matter but I had promised an old friend to take him to dinner upon my arrival to Temple and I had no intentions of eating twice. A snack sounded did sound too good to pass up and I made my way to the dining car. Upon arriving to the snack bar I had been very tempted to succumb to one of my other vices and order a cocktail. Instead I held true to my promise and stayed on the wagon with some nuts and a soda. God, how we used to argue as I would stumble into our apartment smelling like Jack Daniel himself. The tears that I caused her had finally quenched my thirst and I had been sober for nearly a year. On the return to my seat you would have thought me to have been drunk to see me as I stumbled back and forth. I had the balance of a toddler as the train jerked from side to side. I dove back into my seat and once again restored my composure as I attempted to appear unaffected by my journey. I still felt a bit woozy, perhaps the soda would help. I checked my phone, a text message. I must have missed the alert during my trek for almonds and Pepsi.
“I LOVE YOU,” is all the message said in all caps.
I smiled and pictured her hand gesturing in sign language.
I wrote her back, “I love you bigger!”
It was our way of competing with something that cannot be measured. I could still barely comprehend the knowledge that she loved me. I had been told that by many others and all had turned out to be liars. Needless to say the trust she had gained from me in our three year courtship was not easily attained. I still had my moments.
I nodded off. My dreams were filled with adventure and more of the randomness that fills my head on a daily basis. I was currently dreaming of a picnic in the country with my fiance that had been attacked by Nazis when I heard a loud voice over the intercom. “Next stop, Temple, Texas.”
I jolted awake. Once I regained my bearing and some of my consciousness I gathered up my things and prepared for departure. The train screeched to a halt and I descended the stairs and jumped out to the sight of the familiar city to which I was traveling.
Temple was where we met. Two bright eyed star crossed lovers who were unaware of anything or anyone outside of themselves. I needed her.
As I waited for my long lost friend who was running late for our dinner appointment I couldn't help but count the minutes until I would return to Dallas and to her.

On Reading

I love books. Literature, poetry, picture books, magazines, newspapers, etc... I am a sucker for a good read. If I am ever in a book store it is likely I will not make it out without buying at least one or two books. I own more books than I know what to do with and my friends and family all know that if they want to make me happy on any holiday a great gift for me is a book. However, I must admit like Paul I have thorn in my side, a life long struggle about which I often pray for deliverance.
I am not a strong reader. When it comes to reading I am inept.
Don't misunderstand me, however, I am not saying that I do not enjoy reading, I am simply commenting on the fact that I am not a good reader. For some people reading comes as naturally to them as walking or riding a bike. While the concepts may have been somewhat difficult to learn for them once the knowledge held fast in their brains they were able to fly through the pages of books as if gale force winds were turning the pages for them. For some it is a steady retention of knowledge. It may take them a bit longer to read, once they have read it the information is attained as if their memory banks were some sort of computer database to which they may refer at any moment they need to regurgitate the information. I must admit that I would give nearly anything to read like either of these two types of readers.
As for me I can read something ten times and not remember the information half an hour later. While I retain some of the knowledge but much of it is muddled in the mess of dis-connectivity that is my brain. The other bothersome feature of my reading ability is my speed. If I were in a race against an average joe to read an essay, he may be likened to a Chevrolet Corvette while I am stuck in an Electric car, not one of the new revolutionary hybrids that are supercharged with potential but more like a go-cart that is low on batteries.
Do not be mistaken, I am not illiterate! My grammatical and phonetic skills are much higher than average and I received a nearly perfect grade on the reading and writing portion of many placement tests. However, while those sections took a small amount of time for most students, I was doing them nearly the entire time.
But why is my ranting today over reading? I can assure you it is not to complain. “woe is me,” to the cyberspace universe. It is instead to encourage anyone reading this to take advantage of you superior reading skills. If I could read like you I would likely have read many more books that I currently have. Possibly all of my books.

Soon Everyone, Like Fools In Sin, Have Nothing Except for themSelveS

By Terrynce Caleb McKeown & D. Stuart Platt

Selfishness is the root cause of every action,
It’s the love of one’s self and the hatred of everything
It’s the reason we eat and drink in a redundant pattern of excess
The reason children cry in the night & why husbands cheat on their wives.
It’s the cause of pain and hunger in 3rd world’s you’ll read about in the news
It’s the fall of mankind in and of it’s self
I know this because it’s the reason behind my next action
I sit alone at a table, staring down at the glass of false courage that’s half empty
I’ve waited a while, courage is hard to muster when your only friend is a loaded pistol.
A picturesque slideshow of things past, flow methodically through my brain like a bad documentary,
And everything passes so slowly that I wish I could just get this over with.
Yet in reality not a second has passed since this slideshow began.
An image of my Mother crosses the screen, I hit pause
I can’t imagine the look on her face when she sees my “poor course of action”
All over the ceiling and walls
Or my Father after viewing the crime scene that once represented the life he rejected
No doubt he’ll forget my existence after a visit from his best friends Jack and Jim
Hit play, my friends, they won’t notice I’ve gone until their object of ridicule is no longer present for the sole purpose of their enjoyment
They feel bad for a moment and sit back remembering their acquaintance
Whom they assumed was their friend,
Until some new freshmen comes along and they again have an object of amusement for their short lived attention spans
The film is almost finished, it was so short most people thought it was still in the beginning stages…
But then, they weren’t really paying attention were they?
Each empty greeting is a silent farewell address, a symbolic gesture of their apathy.
As I have said, Selfishness will kill
I reach for the Colt and pull back the hammer, the last noise I hear is both quick and effective
A light flashes before my eyes, a glimpse of what could have been if only I’d made different choices… if only…
My body goes limp as it hurls itself backwards, the darkness engulfs me as I fall towards the silence that awaits
The room is still and the air is thick.
Very soon the sound of latent sobs will be the only thing that’s heard all around the blocks where I once resided.
Selfishness is the root cause of every action
And as actor with curtains closed, my act is finished

Hello my name is (Insert name here)

I am an addict, addicted to feeling completely sedated. A feeling of floating that kills all brain cells addicted to numbness and dumbing down of senses; pins and needles pin pointing my needs. The only meaning to me behind the words, “cold turkey,” are the left-overs I scarf down. High off of so many substances I lose count and take another bite. Roaming through life like a lost dog I lose all concept of time. Months? Years? Seasons? Even days blur together in one psychedelic jumble.
Darkness...
I wake up and walk to the next room only to see what once was a kitchen, now turned into a laboratory. Then again, I'm not sure whose house this I am in. Maybe it was always like that. I walk past a tear-away calender, March 22.
“It's my birthday...”
I sigh and continue my trek towards the bathroom, not because I need to go but because it is the only place I can be alone. I step over three still unconscious students. At least they have an excuse for being here. They are still young and foolish. Perhaps they'll out grow this stage before it's too late. Maybe they'll wake up before they end up being a thirty year old addict still running the party circuit of a college town. A drug dealer whose only income is spreading the very poison he consumes in lethal doses. It's ironic really, I used to despise the old guys who were at all the parties, hitting on the young girls and using them through paying them with free drugs. I'm that guy.
“I hope that girl from last night was legal,” I wonder.
Let's face it, it's been a long while since anything I've done was legal. She looked not a day older than sixteen but who knows? She said she was eighteen and that's what matters, it's not like I card.
I sit down on the porcelain. Through a small window above me a ray of sunshine beams on my face like a laser beam from star trek set to blind. I shield my eyes. When was the last time I've seen the sun? I can't even remember. Like a vampire with a hang over I quickly hide in the shadow. Only I didn't turn into dust and disappear. I reach into my pocket and pull out my shades. I laugh to myself as I realize that my perception of life is like these shades. Everything I see is darkened by my warped ideas of how to exploit it for my own monetary gain or more devious personal pleasure which is the true harlot of all my misdeeds to whom I am forever enslaved. Enough of this serious self examination.
I light up a joint that I saved from the night before and drift into oblivion. This was the good stuff. The premiere merchandise I saved only for myself. The stuff that's laced with things I can't even pronounce. I feel a little better now. I think I'll go grab a leftover beer and head across town to meet my supplier. Then I'll just let myself wander 'til the next time I wake up somewhere. Then I'll begin it all again. “Happy Birthday to me.”

FRUSTRATION

By, Stuart Platt

Tension
Pulsing, Burning
Memories fade to Black
nothing...
mountains are climbed
boulders towards heaven roll
frivolously falling further down
life's existence foiled
circular motion forced
round milky way's edge
unrequited, unending
satisfaction, no guarantees
tip toeing toward turning
failing to pass the course
we will weep when we wash on
sleeping slumber of solace
usurping Satan's stare

Photo by Chris Robinson

International Adoption

In a normal Texas household, a young girl of approximately 15 years old sits in a chair contemplating her life. She seems to be reminiscing about her past and then pondering her future. She stands about five feet tall, has brown hair, and weighs about 98 pounds. At a glance, she seems to be a normal teenage girl living in the southern United States. Then, she speaks. Her accent is anything but a sweet southern drawl. She speaks broken English with a thick eastern European accent.
Meet Amelia Pauline Platt. She is an adopted child from Kazakhstan. Amelia is a product of the international adoption agency, Children’s Home Society and Family services of Minnesota.
CHSFS international aids American couples in adopting children from over a dozen countries. In 2006 alone, more than 700 children were adopted through their international adoption programs. This organization and others like it are a much-needed ministry that we as Americans should consider. There are approximately 100 million orphaned children in the world today. Sadly, many children are simply over looked for consideration to be adopted because of their age.
Age is an important factor in the adoption process. The only requirement for the graduation of older orphans is age. In many cases graduation can come as young as 16 years old, for an orphan this means leaving the orphanage that they have called home for most of their lives. This means being put onto the streets alone and penniless.
It is estimated that approximately 10% of orphans that “graduate” from their orphanages kill themselves within their first year on the streets. Of the remaining orphans who are kicked out, one in five will become involved in crime. Drugs and prostitution are the majority of the offenses in which graduated orphans participate.
The ministry of adopting older children is something that Doug and Lee Ann Platt of Bryan, Texas took to heart. After years of consideration and prayer they decided to adopt a girl from Columbia who was nearing the age of graduation. During the process of adopting, Ana Carolina, they were approached by a representative of Forever Family, an affiliate of CHSFS, and asked to consider adopting another girl. After having been told of the extreme circumstances behind the adoption, they accepted the offer. The Platts met their new daughter, Amelia, in Waco with her then mother.
“When I came to America to the family, I have a hard time.” Amelia said. “I fight with my sister, Natasha, and with the wife. I disobeyed her. She slapped my face… she pulled my hair and all the way to the door she pulled my ear so I ran away for six days. The police came and got me and took me home to talk to the wife. I came back to their house and I slept on the floor.
“They said (that) I going to Missouri in the morning to think about if I want to stay in them house or if I want to go back to Kazakhstan. When I come back from Missouri,(Her original adoptive father) met me in the hotel and said that I am not their daughter anymore; I am going to another family. He gone. Then the wife came the next morning and picked me up and took me to meet the new family in Waco.”

In November of 2006, Amelia came to live with the Platt family.
Now, Amelia is a happily adopted member of the growing Platt household. In this year she has gained a new sister, learned to roller skate, learned to ride a bike, participated in organized sports such as volleyball and basketball, and is flourishing home school student.
Due to the poor condition of her orphanage and the language differences, Amelia, who by age should be a freshman in high school, is only in the 4th grade.
“My language is way different ... It was hard to hear the change in the speaking...It was hard to tell and understand.” said Amelia.
“The weather is way different (too),” said Amelia. “When I came to America. I saw big, huge airplanes and lots of people... (There) were stores and things everywhere. They were different clothes and dress. We in Kazak, wear sweaters and long clothes and when I came here there were people wearing shorts and not covered and it was hot.
“The grocery stores were huge! Lots of room and food everywhere. The houses have lots of room and space everywhere. Things are clean… (in America) people are everywhere. They go all the time.”
Despite the differences in culture and the hardships that she faced Amelia seems happy to be a part of her new family.
“Being in a family you share with sisters. You learning things from each other.” Amelia said. “I love having friends and a wonderful home, sharing things at church, having brothers and sisters to laugh with. I love the pets...dogs and cat. I love decorating at holidays, especially the tree and lights.
“Having people who care about you and sharing and helping them. I love to play with this family and volleyball and basketball and riding bikes together. This family loves me and teaches me and helps me write letters and I don't have to figure it out alone. They pray with me.”

Amelia is just one example of adoption in the Platt family. Between them and their extended family they have adopted six children from two different countries. Their willingness to minister to these children is something that others should take to heart. People should take action in aiding those in need who unable to help their selves. Whether that aid is adopting a child, financially supporting children whose families are in need, or even simply giving donations to ministries like CHSFS who allow others to adopt, action must be taken.
“Right now, life is not scary anymore,” said Amelia. “I was watching over kids in (the orphanage) like my sister and here I don't have too. We fight in the orphanage all the time and here it doesn't. We have clothes (in America) and there we doesn't. Houses are pretty (here) and there they are not.”

The Four-Year Stigma

As seniors look forward to walking down the aisle during commencement ceremony, the fast approaching reality of graduation throws many students in a quandary, while graduates visit with family and friends and celebrate their benchmark achievement. Seniors stew in the knowledge that their so called “victory lap” may not be so victorious.
The number of awarded bachelor's degrees awarded from 1987 to 1997 rose by 18%. In the year 2003 the U.S. had 37.4 million citizens between the ages of 20 and 29. In the subsequent years these statistics have grown. The rise in number of these “twenty-somethings” with a college education has led to a phenomenon of depressed young adults that is commonly called “the quarterlife crisis,” a term applied to the period of life immediately following the major changes of adolescence into adulthood that causes feelings of depression, inadequacy and confusion of identity.
Many psychologists recognize QLC as a real problem among young people, and it is often compared to the mid-life crisis of adults 40 to 50. All these statistics can be found at quarterlifecrisis.com, a site dedicated to literature and statistics related to alleviating this problem.
Although QLC is usually found in college graduates, the issue is more commonly being found in all students nearing the end of their collegiate career. The general belief held by many Americans that adulthood begins at age 26 may further the problem.
The quarterlife crisis looming above our heads, the thousands more dollars of debt we will accrue in the following semesters trying to finish our degree plans, and the constant hassling of others over when and why we are not graduating on time. It would seem to be a grim outlook of life for my fifth year compatriots.
Though suffering from feelings of embarrassment or depression from our inability to finish our collegiate journey, we may take comfort in a report by The Education Trust put out in 2005. It shows UMHB’s six-year average graduation rate is only 41.2%.
This statistic may bring us encouragement. The simple fact that we are still in school and close to finishing, should spur us on to no longer furthering the statistics.
We are ahead of the curve. We must focus on the prize at hand by putting our nose to the grindstone and putting away our slacker-like ways. Together we can show the incoming freshmen not born in the 1980’s how it’s done.
If we focus on graduation in 2009, it will not only help keep our mind off of our busy senior schedule, with robing, midnight march and all the last experiences of our collegiate experience, it will also then be less likely for us to think ahead toward the great unknown of the future ahead.

Water

Rain slowly drips from the clouds like a leaky faucet, a light mist fogs the windows as a small grouping of droplets form into a community. Together they slowly conform to one single unit, one mind, one soul, one spirit. Yet each droplet is its own being. Its own personality. Its own consciousness. One individual thought in a sea of flowing rain. As one they are nothing but a drop, a speck in the large scaled existence of the universe. As a unit they comprise a driving force capable of causing the untold tragedy of entire planets. We need it for survival. It sustains the erratic system of life on which we cling and is the very fabric of our being. The majesty of its beauty holds spectators breathless as it dances through nature a holy trinity three in one. Immersion in its depths will awe those who brave it, many fall victim to its might. This deadly temptress of navy and gray may also heal those who thirst for its power. Then all at once the time will come when the sun breaks through the clouds and everything will fade into nothingness.

What happened to the American Dream?

As I listen to the two presidential nominees argue against one another as a way to somehow win the hearts and votes of the populous, I can't help but wonder what happened to America?
When the Founding Fathers laid down the Constitution for the United States, they did so with the great ideals, hopes of freedom and dreams of liberty. Their stance against the tyrannical monarchy of oppression, from which all colonists fled, was a radical new idea. The idea that all are created equal. When were Liberty and hard work replaced with the socialistic ideas of governmental control and handouts?
The current administration as well as the upcoming administration that is to be elected in November have much more in common than they would have us believe. The so-called partisanship of Washington fades away when citizens see the voting records of those running. Both John McCain and Barack Hussein Obama have voted with the Bush administration; they have also both voted against it. When will the American people wake up and realize that the freedoms they once enjoyed in this country have been traded away for a false sense of so-called, “safety?”
Benjamin Franklin once said, “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
The Founding Fathers would never have agreed to things like the recent government buy out or the Patriot Act of 2001. These blatant power grabs are just two examples of the extent of corruption that the powers that be have jumped into.
“If Tyranny and Oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy,” James Madison said.
Our government has scared its people into blind submission through threats of terror and foreign enemies. They have policed the world as a way to slowly leech our liberty.
They have perverted the very foundation of our nation – the Constitution – into some kind of living document that should be changed instead of followed.
“Do not separate text from historical background. If you do, you will have perverted and subverted the Constitution, which can only end in a distorted, bastardized form of illegitimate government,” Madison said.
The First Amendment guarantees freedom of the press as a way for the government to be held in check. Constitutionally, the media should be having a field day with this current way the government is being run. Why is the media so slanted towards push one party's rhetoric or the next? Those who would say that the media should not criticize and critique the government are not in agreement with the Founding Fathers.
“To announce that there must be no criticism of the president... is morally treasonable to the American public,” Theodore Roosevelt said.
These are just some examples of how far the United States have fallen from grace and how very close we are to becoming a completely socialistic society. Short of a violent revolution, which none truly want to see, the only way to change this reality is to lobby and vote for the men and women who do hold to the values the Founding Fathers held.
In the words of John Quincy Adams, “Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone, and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost.”

Woo-hoo for yoo-hoo

Yoo-hoo chocolate drink is by far the best beverage that has ever existed. Often when I write I will not be able to continue until I have made the trip to a local grocery store to grab at least a six pack of yoo-hoo and some Little Debbie snacks.
It is no secret that college students frequently eat unhealthy snack food and highly caffeinated beverages during late nights cramming for exams, papers, and the like. But not one of those midnight snackers can compare with yoo-hoo.
For those who are unfamiliar with the drink, yoo-hoo is a wonderful chocolate milk alternative.
According to the company's official website, the drink got it's start in the early 1920's by a man named Natale Olivieri, owner of a bottling company in New Jersey which made fruit drinks.
Olivieri believed if he could create a chocolate drink that would not spoil in the bottle, it would be a major success. After many experiments, he finally found the correct mix of natural flavorings and bottling methods, and yoo-hoo chocolate drink was born. Today yoo-hoo is still headquartered in New Jersey and is bottled and sold throughout the United States.
Yoo-hoo is often label as a chocolate milk alternative. Some critics point out that it does not traditionally score well on purely taste-based chocolate milk comparisons. It is true that good chocolate milk is very tasty and does taste more like itself than does yoo-hoo. However, leave milk on the counter for a day in an unopened container and come back and taste it then, or leave a chocolate milk in the refrigerator for over a month and try it again. Now do the same thing with a yoo-hoo.
Compare the two again.
Does the milk taste different? Yoo-hoo doesn't.
Yoo-hoo not only boasts of no preservatives and no left-over growth hormones from some mistreated cow, its nutritional facts blow away opponents.
When compared against any of the most popular chocolate milks or soft drinks on college campuses yoo-hoo stands strong. Common sodas and energy drinks are loaded with calories and mass amounts of sugar and caffeine. Chocolate milk is high in fat, calories, cholesterol and sugar. Yoo-hoo, however, not only has fewer calories and less sugar than sodas, energy drinks and chocolate milk but also is 99 percent caffeine free and 99 percent fat free.
Yoo-hoo is a delicious alternative to the usual junk drinks that are consumed on a daily basis. So, next time tempted with the high in sugar high in caffeine drinks or fatty calorie stuffed milk, reach for a yoo-hoo instead. Don't forget to shake it.

I Like Pants

By, Stuart Platt

I like Pants as every boy should
On or off my pants are good!
They keep me all cozy, like a warm woolen blanket
and if they are gone I can't hardly take it
My Pants are my friend at good times and bad
they remind me of friends that I've never had
Pants are the thing that keeps me all quiet
they even remind me when I need a diet.
A feel very lonely when pants are away
I wish that in public that they'd always stay
For me and my pants we'll be friends forever
until comes the day when seams start to sever.
I like Pants

3:16

By, Stuart Platt

What is it about the night that brings out the philosopher in us all?

There seems to be a silent longing to know more about life and meaning.

The quietness.

It screams in our ears so loudly that we feel as if our eardrums might burst from anymore.

Minds racing thinking about yesterday and looking forward towards tomorrow. Responsibilities, Work, Obligation, Bills, Friends, God, Love,

All these come to the forefront of the mind in the silent deadness of night.

It is in the light of day that we lose ourselves to our life.

In the hectic blaring noisiness of the monotonous rush and bustle of the day.

We lose that quiet part of ourselves that longs to sit in silence.

Perhaps that is why we come back to ourselves in the night.

A haunting shadow, our fears and desires, our phobias and dreams.

Maybe that is why we fear the sanctuary of the night.

Do we fear His still small voice?

The Waiting Room

By, Stuart Platt

Uncertain, walls stare blankly back into on lookers eyes
Thoughts reel through each mind leaving a trail of fear in its wake
Lead hearts await news ranging from mild to life shattering
The clock ticks away as if to prophesy some foreboding demise
Cold sterile greetings of employed cronies one’s only reassurance
Nervous gestures, worried glances, pointless busy-work are these our comfort
We throw away millions of dollars of our hard earned income
Only to pay some worthless quack to give us drugs and send us home
Our own personal professionally trained drug dealers
The television drags on in a monotonous attempt to distract our apprehension
As if to say, “bright colors and sounds will calm your fears!”
A generation so addicted to noise we drown out all emotion
Other evidences of our addictions sit affront of me in cylinder
We use temporary stimulation to ease our permanent problems
What are we waiting for…

A Mother's labor of Love

By Stuart Platt
As I peered up from the kitchen table, I saw her. There she stood with the sun shining through the small kitchen window. On her face was simple determination; her lower lip rolled over her teeth as if it were a wave breaking over the top before it crashes against the sand. Her hands move swiftly over the dishes as a small cascade of water pours over them. Finally, the mountain of dishes is finished. She leans over and wipes the sink with a small sense of triumph and accomplishment.  As she closes the door to the dishwasher, she inspects her work. Now she turns to yet another task at hand. But as I see her walk away, do I hear a moan of despair? Does a scowl of endless drudgery come across her face? No, only a sense of responsibility and love for those for which she toils.