Void

Chris Spangenberg

Grade 12

Creativity is a nick in the flesh, a blood-sport. At times, a gash above the carotid artery severs lines, great geysers of words spurting and spittle, stream-of-consciousness running like blood appeasement down the stone steps of a Mayan temple. Other times, a paper-cut of slighted capillary jocks dribbles morning dew, the village well runs dry and lips parch and crust over with mantra; no honour amongst the thirsty, no chivalry when there is no mouth left to water. I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream child bonding, overgrown toddlers line of inquiry. Indeed, lack of creativity is as gulping down sawdust and expecting to shit out a mahogany rocking chair. Feels like swimming in an ocean of censorship naked, all exposure and suppression, eggs hatching in addled brain and calling out the blank thoughts Mommy... First still-born chirp of futility, when will its mother return? You hope soon, because that newly hatched chick you can't take care of wants to be fed... All this, creativity and lack thereof, it brings to the lumpen individual, the poor sentence sodomite that commits itself to the art of writing. May they live long, in their chosen martyrdom.

But no matter how much the parasite that is writing will suck the life outta you like a babe's thumb, remind oneself that this is only natural. Then proceed to bash one's head in several times with the Encyclopaedia Britannica; arms fully extended, outstretched, before flexing the gripped book to hit the forehead at less than fantastic rates.

That parched throat kerosene desperation. All sentence sodomites, sentenced sodomites, Charles Manson menaces struggle with this premise of writing: Words are not your own. Writers don't own their words. Since when do words belong to anybody? William S. Burroughs had commented. “Your very own words.” Indeed! And who are you? Sound of deflating egos like post-birthday party balloons. Smell of burned hair tearing out of scalp. Who am I? The writer puffed out chest huffing and puffing exclaims rhetorically (failed attempt). Why, I am the One that brought into existence these words! Nobody else has! And there the runaway train of thought has to derail, for it is a very megalomaniac track, that only leads to grandiose and self-importance. None of which has no place in the actual being of the word. The word has always been there; the writer is there to make visible, permutate and make orderly the fashion and structure of letter to word to sentence to paragraph to... whatever. Novella, love-letter, papal bull, self-help manual, speech, newspaper. The permutations are endless and claimable, but the disassembled components are free for all.

The Duke doesn't own Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. He doesn't own Fear, Loathing, nor does he own Las Vegas. But whatever's well in the scripture he might well hold claim to. Charles Dickens doesn't own Oliver Twist, nor Oliver, nor Twist. But he has dibs on the character. And etc etc.

Ah, it bids well for these mongrels. Watch them scurrying around with their copyright claims and ownership trysts and handshakes with the devil... Watch them write for the sake of money, write for the sake of freedom, write for the sake of fame, but never write for the sake of writing. Though granted, why anybody would write purely for the sake of writing, I do not pretend to understand. Spreading the virus that is language, letting the meat-hooks slide and latch onto the voice house gristle flesh has its own allure, considering all things considered.

Following digression, the question I propose to pose considers this: Was the word already in existence, merely made visible through collage that are sentences in creative fits? Or does the human mechanism truly create the word, conjuring the spectral abstract and slotting them into endless permutations? Or rather, does creativity pertain to the infinite procession of new abstracts, or is creativity merely the reinvention of many wheels?

Dare to be Different

Mauvreen Allan, Grade 8

In communities all around the world, bullying takes place every day. There are many different kinds; some you can see, others go on "behind the scenes." One of the most common ways in which people are bullied seems harmless but can in fact be very hurtful. This kind of bullying happens between friends, with comments directed at your clothing or style. Often, kids go to school or a friend’s house and experience negative criticism because their "friends" do not like what they’re wearing. Their friends may say things along the lines of "I'm sorry but that’s hideous, it looks like something an old person bought you." They say it in a harmless way, not thinking that it could actually hurt someone. If a friend ever says something like that to you, then maybe you need to evaluate if they’re truly your friend. Even if they say "sorry” or "don’t take it personally," it’s still extremely rude, and if it hurts you, don’t just pretend everything’s fine, call them out. Tell them it’s rude and it hurt you. Tell them you don’t care what they think about your clothes, if you like them then it doesn’t matter what other people think. They’re not the "Fashion Police." Dare to be yourself, even if it’s different from other people! If you ever see anyone being bullied or you’re a victim then tell someone, don’t just close your eyes and pretend the problem doesn’t exist. You can do something to help them or yourself. You can do something in your community to prevent bullying. Don’t just sit back and watch do, something about it; don’t help the bully by doing nothing. Maybe someone you love is being bullied and you don’t even know, maybe you’re bulling people without knowing. Every word said can have an impact on someone, negative or positive. Think before you speak. If you’re a victim, then don’t put up with bullying, you can make it stop. Tell someone or talk to the bully, don’t just hide. If you hide then that bully will not only continue to bully you, but other people, and they won’t learn to stop. Help everyone out by speaking up, whether you’re the victim or not. Help the world, save a soul.

Greenpeace Still in Russian Prison

Anika Fairholm

Wednesday, September 19th, thirty Greenpeace members were taken prisoner in Russia after peacefully protesting against the country’s oil drilling in the arctic.

Greenpeace is a non-government environmental organization. It started as a formation of peace and anti-nuclear activists in Vancouver in the 1960s and 70s, and now has offices in over forty different countries. It is one of the largest environment organizations in the world, and is known for their take-action attitude, which has sometimes resulted in the death of their members. They have dealt with issues concerning global warming, deforestation, overfishing, toxic waste, commercial whaling, genetic engineering, and anti-nuclear protests.

The situation in Russia started on September 18th when two Greenpeace activists climbed aboard an oil rig belonging to the energy company, Gazprom, and tried to hang a banner. After trying to dislodge the activists by spraying them with water cannons, the Russian authorities made an appearance and arrested the entire thirty-strong Greenpeace party at gunpoint. The party consisted of 28 activists, a freelance photographer and a freelance videographer. Two of the members are Canadian citizens, Alexandre Paul from Montreal and Paul Ruzycki from Ontario.

The activists are being held in Murmansk, Russia, and were charged with hooliganism, “a gross violation of the public order which expresses patent contempt for society, attended by violence against private persons or by the threat of its use, and likewise by the destruction or damage of other people's property,” which has a maximum sentence of seven years. A few weeks later, they added on a charge of piracy, which could push the time to ten to fifteen years. Protests were planned and carried out in forty-eight countries as Greenpeace supporters fought to free the imprisoned activists, especially in the eighteen countries from which the crew was put together, including Russia.

Many officials have attempted to plea with Russia, including Quebec’s minister of international relations, the foreign minister of the Netherlands, the Dutch foreign minister, the European Parliament, and even Russian President Vladimir Putin, who stated that “I don't know the details of what went on, but it's completely obvious they aren't pirates.”

Spokespersons from Greenpeace, government officials, and protestors have tried everything to plead their case for the activists, ranging from the fact that they are a peaceful organization, to the illegal detention of the Dutch ship that the activists were using. One of the activists, Alexandra Harris from Britain, said this in a letter to her family:

“…The blizzard blew my very poorly insulated window open and I had to sleep wearing my hat. I'm nervous about spending winter here…I should be going to court next week for my appeal, which is pointless because they have already been rejected…I'm worried about what's going to happen…”

Letters such as these have stirred many protests from the families of the activists held in Russia. However, the charges only seem to be increasing, as accusations such as “posing a threat to the oil platform”, “making an attempt on lives and health of the representatives of the authority”, “possession of narcotics”, and “illegal boarding into Russian waters”. Furthermore, the release on bail for all of the activists has been rejected, due to their supposedly dangerous nature.

The activists have been held in Russia for over seven weeks now, and rather than listening to the appeals of Greenpeace and their allies, the Russian Investigative Committee are constantly adding charges to those already existing, and refusing any chances of having the activists return to their families. Online protests and campaigns have been continually increasing in their directness as Greenpeace supporters try to free the activists in Russia. Even improving the conditions in the prison would be a victory for the supporters, as they report losing weight and being woken up by snow in their cells.

If you want to send a letter to your local Russian Embassy, please visit http://www.greenpeace.org/international/en/campaigns/climate-change/arctic-impacts/free-our-activists/





Sources:

http://www.cbc.ca/archives/categories/environment/environmental-protection/greenpeace-always-bearing-witness/greenpeace-inc.html

http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/episode/2013/10/04/greenpeace-admits-to-a-protest-against-oil-drilling-but-whats-this-about-piracy/

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/greenpeace-holds-vigils-for-activists-jailed-in-russia-1.1914008

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/quebec-asks-russia-for-clemency-in-greenpeace-arrests-1.1927610

http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/netherlands-seeks-release-of-greenpeace-activists-in-russia-1.1912962

http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/russia-may-add-drug-charges-to-greenpeace-piracy-case-1.1958616

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2013/oct/18/letter-greenpeace-protester-russia-cell

http://www.greenpeace.org/canada/en/

http://www.greenpeace.org/canada/

http://www.greenpeace.org/international/en/

http://www.greenpeace.org/international/en/news/features/Greenpeace-responds-to-allegations-by-Russian-authorities/

http://www.greenpeace.org/international/en/news/features/From-peaceful-action-to-dramatic-seizure-a-timeline-of-events-since-the-Arctic-Sunrise-took-action-September-18-CET/

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2013-10-31/wife-of-australian-facing-jail-in-russia-demands-action/5061992

http://www.greenpeace.org/canada/freepaulandalexandre/

Cracking Rocks

Chris Spangenberg

Yawning Saturday came slow that week, like all preceding Saturdays and all oncoming Saturdays, typical burning wreckage in the fast lane of the suburbs. Fresh air over into lunacy, each moment driven near to desperation... And they haven't even seen the daily papers yet, picked up their lifeless phones, nor stepped out of bed with the wrong foot. But there is something terrible afoot, erstwhile conversations halt to a grind-house when the body detects the undercurrent. Flushing skin and bristling chicken hairs, lead in to rapid breathing and cue speeding heart rate, zooming down the M1 for a pack of milk and a carton of eggs. It must be oil. Only the black smear curdling in the gas tank can tear hair out, form cartels, rape oceans, and drop the dollar faster than a ton of lard. Or it's the rising influx of immigrant workers from the South, or from the East; hell, they might even be coming from outer space! Some point with hat in hand to the economy, that slump hiding under the rug, leaving no hump at all. Pressure points tethered to a cobweb of possibilities, all bad. But how strange, these ideas! Like Soylent Green without people. How so very strange indeed...

Fossils belong in museums; not in privatized gas tanks where they are grilled mercilessly and pooped through the exhaust; not in drums of steel where they gather dust; not in sentimental value jet fighters taking off to bomb the next Baghdad; not in toxic plastics which choke little children; and most certainly not in the Enola Gay that dropped the bomb. All of the above most notably, but the war machine must be fed. Its stomach roars like Jim Cramer without crack, and we are more than content to feed it. Though it looked like nukes have been in for a while now, coming up shortly to North Korea and the flat stares of Middle Eastern ambassadors shaking hands with political America. Beside the point, it has been posed that we must look for more sustainable sources of wanderlust and bloodlust and power. Sustainability, in the sense that we must sustain our Western habit of bleeding the planet dry, whilst hounding everyone else in the third world not to act the same we act so as not to disturb the delicate ecosystem of political power. Real Promethean dastardliness, the kind of bastards we'd hang out to dry... usually. But this is old news, revisited merely for the purpose of re-visitation. The only true point was that dirty pots and pans in the kitchen will still be there the following day, thus, something must be done.

That is why I propose... We need midnight oil to fuel the new world... No aerospace cubs whizzing like bees and bombing poor faceless empire ants. People have come from all over the First World to get their share and they won't leave without it. It is the most vital commodity out there this moment, right now, that one second a second ago. And that commodity is time, that of which everybody thinks they already have, like pre-purchased tickets to the show. For in this exciting age; with plenty of entertainment, ways to kill the time, and plenty information to lose your mind to, there is simply no time to do everything. No time at all; yet the presumption of an existing correlation between money and time, or time and fuel to sustain, are wrong. It is only the flashbulb condition of the world or person that is altered, not sustainability. The correlation is made in the mind, and the mind is false. We first need to differ our perimeters and physiological understanding of time, and until we have time, only then can we worry about fossil fuels and funhouses. People think they have all the time in the world. They're wrong. They only have a moment, and that moment is already over.

Gagging Order

Chris Spangenberg

“Man, when you lose your laugh you lose your footing...”

-Ken Kesey, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

It was on days like these that I forget how to laugh. An average day, when the concrete sets in the same pattern as it did yesterday, and in front stretches an endless gag routine that I've seen before, all three-hundred and sixty-four minutes. I can't help myself. The monotony eats all the apples of my eye, treads on plexi-glass eggshells with no small juggernaut jag. Saws off the table edges, makes child-proof a peeping booth, and pillows my fall out of bed. I know the motions of course. The perpendicular pendulum upturn of the lips, a slight gust of air, a snort perhaps; some hissing? Who knows? But this serial solidarity, a United Snakes prospect, does not discount total freedom. Only the taxable parts of it, and that was saying enough. Or at the very least, I take leave of staccato sincerity; like a repeated joke, told until its meaning died in the sentenced syntax. A joke, which was a funny thing all things considered.

A joke is only funny the last time it's told. To me, at least. There is something about its due date, its mass expiry that persists through all penance. The instant one has to explain the joke, it might as well not have been told at all. And that is worse than not having spoken, and resting your case in sullen silence. Still, the senseless repetition, the spread the joy mentality that accompanies the farce scares me into inaction. Much like a contagion, spreading the good word of St. Elsewhere. Wish you were here wishfulness. But happiness is a selfish drug, not to be taken lightly in autobiographical aptitude, or amputated motif. Much more so than say, tea-leaves or opium drips. For we are natural slaves to the awareness of bliss; our pursuit of it is but a constant and callous calling-card. I know others like us don't care to share the sunshine that comes between them and their rose-tinted shades. But hey, whatever makes you happy. I could care. But I care less.

The joke was funny the first time round; a politically incorrect notion of some enforced stereotype, a black market trade of guffaws and glee. To this day, I cannot remember how it went again. But it was funny. That much I held in store of recollection. Rather than not, it was the fading humour that caught me unaware. I didn't laugh when I heard it. I laughed a good hour after. I laughed.

And it was a hollow, spineless laugh; all dentures and no difference, no care in the world. The tunnel could light itself, halfway through, and I would still be laughing till kingdom come. It was the sort of laugh that laughed for itself, a self-aware spasm that comes cheap but paid heavily, on the lungs and limbs. They get caught up as well, trussed up and tangled in the indignation, swatting the air like newspapers and flies in a linear line.

It wasn't borne of desperation. Desperate laughs are short and braying, like sheep who know that the grass is fading under their hooves, but still feed on the green cause it's the last thing they know. The only people to hear such true laughs are 1-800 SUICIDE operators and debt collectors. Desperate, like having the rug pulled under you; and you're on the long way down the stairs.

It was a cannibal laugh that fed on itself to sustain its nature; unholy gusts of air that sucked all the joy out of me, left me dead in the water. I laughed until there was no more laughter to laugh. I laughed until there was no air to breathe. I laughed until the penny dropped, and my sides split for a dime's worth. The laughter ended half a minute after it started.

Looking back now, on nihilism; I can speak for myself no longer. You could hold a candle to my reasoning behind, but you wouldn't see the fire until the silent alarm screeched bloody murder. In all trueness though, I laughed for America. I laughed for cancer patients. I laughed for all the missing children. I laughed for global warming. I laughed for the starving in Africa. I laughed for Soylent green. I laughed for asbestos in the walls. I laughed for a happy ending. I laughed at nothing at all.  

Free to Play vs Pay to Play

Tommy Sandrin, Grade 11

If you know me at all, you know that I love MMORPGs, and I’ve played a fair amount of them. As I grew older, and my parents wouldn’t pay the monthly fee anymore, even if I asked real nice, I started to see the biggest differences in F2P (Free to Play) and P2P (Pay to Play) games, and the mix between them.

Just to clear up any confusion, for a game to be considered free to play in my books, you have to be able to reach max level in the game, and have the majority of content open to you. For an example of a free to play, I will go back to one I almost always seem to be bringing up; Maplestory. In Maplestory you can reach max level and go anywhere you like without having to spend a dollar on the game. What you can spend money on is things to make your character look all pretty, stuff to make gameplay a bit easier, or to change any mistakes you made, or get a pet, etcetera, so not huge game changing stuff. 

As an example of a P2P game, I think the one most people know of would be World of Warcraft. Of course you can get a free trial, but you can’t get very far in it. Also, just because I feel like I should cover them, there are games that are sort of between the duo of F2P and P2P, like Dofus, Runescape and anything else that will let you get pretty far in terms of levels or what have you, but have the full world closed off to you. I’d call this limited F2P. They’re a little odd; you could play free forever, but chances are after a while you’ll be sick of grinding on the same few mobs. Now, to the meat of this article - the pros and cons. The most obvious one of course, is the fact one is free, one is not, but if you play the game for any decent amount of time, eventually you will probably spend some money on it. Really the main difference is how you spend the money, be it either a monthly fee, or a one-time purchase. Another difference is that usually a P2P game will probably be of a bit higher quality, perhaps updates will come out faster, patches will be done quicker, more things will be added, while a F2P game might not get new content for years at a time, because they won’t have the steady cash flow behind them. This isn’t always the case however, and you should hold the companies behind these games accountable for what they make, but that’s a rant for another time, eh? The point I’m trying to get across here is that P2P and F2P don’t have huge differences between them, and if the fact that you might have to spend money on a game is turning you off from it just know that even if you go for that F2P game you might still end up spending some of your hard earned cash on it, so go with the game you are more interested in! 

One Billion Rising

Geena Papini, Grade 11

Valentine’s Day is probably one of the least appreciated of all ‘holidays’ (although yes, technically it’s not a holiday). It has long been perceived as a Hallmark plot to scam us all out of our money and to make single people feel depressed about their perpetual solitude. But if you can get past all of that, then really it’s just a special day to celebrate your significant other, which, let’s be honest, is actually a really nice idea. But in case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t really a lot of people these days who seem to be into the whole Valentine’s Day ploy, even those who are in a happy relationship.

This year, however, something’s a little difference. This year, Valentine’s Day isn’t going to just be about how many candy-grams you received, or whether or not your boyfriend bought you a 24-karat diamond necklace. This year, it’s about something much bigger.

According to the 2008 campaign UNITE To End Violence Against Women, initiated by the UN Secretary General’s Office, one in three women on the planet will be raped or beaten in her lifetime. And yes, one in three does mean one billion women. That is something that a lot of people are not willing to accept, so, on February 14, 2013, one billion women and men have been invited to demand an end to this violence. They have been invited to take part in the One Billion Rising Campaign- a global strike, organised by V-Day. It is a call to people all over the world to rise up and dance- to show the world the collective strength of women everywhere. They are protesting the sheer number of women and girls who have to live in fear, and the fact that these days, rape culture is becoming worse and worse, especially seeing as now it is almost commonplace to blame the victim, and to be as disrespectful as to ask what they were wearing at the time of their attack. To find out more about the One Billion Rising Campaign, visit their website at http://www.onebillionrising.org/pages/about-one-billion-rising

If you’re interested in going to a One Billion Rising event, to dance and learn more about the fight to end rape and rape culture, then you’re in luck. The North Shore Women’s Centre is organising a rising, at 11:30 on February 14, on 145 West 1^st Avenue, North Vancouver at the John Braithwaite Community Centre. Learn the steps to the dance at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRU1xmBwUeA and come prepared to break the cycle and change the world!

Need another reason to rise? Then read Eve Ensler’s story below.

“I WRITE FROM THE SKY BETWEEN MEXICO CITY AND GUATEMALA CITY” BY EVE

November 21, 2012

I write from the sky between Mexico City and Guatemala City. I write as Eastern Congo is being occupied and overtaken by M23 militias and the world - well a very small section of it - passively watches. I write as my sisters in Goma flee and others tend the wounded with bare resources, as thousands are displaced with nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat and danger and terror in every direction. I write as my sister Christine Schuler Deschryver, who directs City of Joy, spends another sleepless night worrying whether M23 troops will be descending on Bukavu, experiencing anxiety, chaos and escalating violence around her. I write as she bravely stays to protect the women at City of Joy and attempts to give them hope when she herself is totally in the dark. I write as we wait and wait and wait, as we have year after year for the Security Council, the Secretary General, the 19 thousand UN peacekeepers to protect the people. As we wait for the power players behind the scenes - the U.S. and Great Britain and France - to put pressure on Rwanda (who they greatly support) and Uganda to withdraw the M23 and stop supporting armies lead by war criminals.

I write after days of reading devastating blogs, stories and emails arriving from women on the ground in Palestine and Israel and Syria. Women who have been fighting for peace and an end to occupation and violence. Women who report the terror of bombs landing around them and the tremors and explosions and loss of limbs and lives and hope. Women who are burying the small bodies of children and who report feeling manipulated and controlled by politicians who do not see them, who use them merely as pawns in their game of power and rage.

I write after the storm Sandy flooded New York and New Jersey - 23 US states in total - and the Caribbean, from Haiti to Jamaica to Cuba. I write in its aftermath, leaving neighborhoods and houses and lives destroyed. I write as drought and fires and extreme and unusual temperatures rage across the planet. I write as fossil fuel companies continue their drilling and plundering knowing that if this excavating of oil does not stop, it will soon be too late.

I write after women survivors of Mexico talk about rape and domestic violence and human trafficking and being sold for less than a bicycle. I write after holding an 18-year-old Mexican girl in my arms who was recently freed from a pimp who had kidnapped her for years and forced her to be raped, sometimes 60 times a day. I write knowing that sex trafficking is becoming one of the leading industries of the world and each day poor women's bodies become more objectified and violated in the so-called free market.

The future seems bleak. This is the 2012 the fortune tellers have been predicting.

But I have also have spent my last days in a theater where miraculous young women are performingEmotional Creature with their full hearts and talents and where other young women are discovering they have meaning and value and can make an impact. I have spent my days reading the plans of activists in 177 countries who are joined with One Billion Rising, organizing festivals, holding workshops writing new laws and enforcing old ones, holding perpetrators accountable and planning where and who and what they will dance to, linking our issues so that we come to see the intersection of violence against women and racism, climate change, poverty, war, homophobia. I write with the energy of the billion infused in me, as I begin to circle the planet inviting women and men to rise for a future where we honor and cherish and protect our mother earth and the bodies and souls of our mothers, sisters, daughters, lovers and wives. Where we protect the people and insist on diplomatic and fair solutions rather than dropping drones and bombs and rockets. I write because in spite of every sign indicating we could be doomed I feel the heartbeat of women pressed against my chest, I feel their hunger to live and to create a world where their children live in peace and prosperity. I write because I know the time of rape and male domination can and will come to an end and the energy of hoarding and pillaging and hurting will be transformed into sharing and including and feeling the heart inside each heart.

There is a wonderful Nicaraguan expression that says "Struggle is the highest form of song." Struggle gives life meaning and it keeps one in a state of perpetual love. We all know what is possible in both directions. I am opting for life. I am opting for the many having the resources and respecting the resources. I know we can turn this around, there is still time. I know we can rise out of this cage, this tyranny of domination and hierarchy and exclusion. I know we can through the movement of our bodies and our collective envisioning push past the perpetrators, the war criminals, the rapists, the exploiters of the earth and women. I can feel this energy. It is in the billion and more who will rise and dance on 14 February 2013.

- Eve Ensler

(http://onebillionrising.org/blog/entry/read-i-write-from-the-sky-between-mexico-city-and-guatemala-city-by-eve )

The Compounding Benefits of The 2 km Golden Idea

By:Bosco Noronha, Grade 11

Natural gas and petroleum- we’re all enslaved to use these fuels. From cooking the food we eat every day, to driving to work to earn the money for that food. With oil prices at an all-time high since the market crash in October 2008, we’re all ensnared in the monopolistic game played by the one percent of the oil oligarchy who control the world economy.

The above graph depicts when oil which, was priced at 73.3 c/L in 2003, spiked to 147.6 c/L in 2008 and subsequently went down to 81.5 c/L a few months later. Now, the cartel has ever since organized its rise.

The Oil company cartel: There are a handful of oil companies that control oil prices by lying about production numbers and creating wars/accidents/upheavals throughout their various foundations.

Prices increased and what caused it to increase? There are plenty reasons for the increase in oil prices, some of the major ones are due to “reports” of many terrorist attacks on oil and gas installations in major oil producing countries like Nigeria, Libya, Iran and other Middle Eastern countries. For example, the seizure of a Saudi Arabian oil tanker by pirates in the Gulf of Aden worried many investors. As of that date no major country is serious in arresting this man-made problem, which is self-evident, since huge ransom amounts are paid to these pirates.

Solutions: Biofuel, Hydrogen fuel or sacrifice using gas to make prices drop (using consumer power).

Biofuel:

Biodiesel is the most common biofuel in Europe. It is produced from oils or fats. Biodiesel is the most common biofuel in Europe. It is produced from oils or fats using trans esterification and is a liquid similar in composition to fossil/mineral diesel. Chemically, it consists mostly of fatty acid methyl (or ethyl) esters (FAMEs).

Ethanol(C₂H₆O) is also a promising fuel, which can be directly introduced to the I.C.E of today. It is produced by the fermentation of sugars acquired from wheat, corn, cane sugar- basically any sugar or starch from which alcoholic beverages can be made. The ethanol production methods used are enzyme digestion (to release sugars from stored starches), fermentation of the sugars then distillation, and finally drying.

Biofuel is a trustworthy idea, but remember, where there’s demand, there’s the need for greed. Remember that biofuel is produced using organic material, such materials including corn wheat and other food related products. If we start building an industry based on the consumption of food for a replacement in fossil fuels, this may lead to an increase in food and produce prices, which we definitely don’t need in this economic crisis.

Combustion of Ethanol:  C₂H₅OH + 3 O₂ → 2 CO₂ + 3 H₂O   (ΔH = −1371 kJ/mol)

Combustion of Petroleum: 2 C₈H₁₈ + 25 O₂ → 16 CO₂ + 18H₂O   (ΔH = −10.86 MJ/mol)

Combustion of Hydrogen: 2H₂+ O₂→ 2 H₂O  (ΔH = −286 kJ/mol)

Notice the molar production of CO₂ is the highest for petroleum and doesn’t exist for hydrogen.

Hydrogen: This fuel is the cleanest element that can burn without any other products except water. Many young researchers and innovators under this breed of new technology have been shut down by major oil companies. Anyone can produce Hydrogen using electrolysis; all you need is a source of D.C current and a clean batch of salt water, which is vastly available on our planet (about 70 %). Cars were also built by many automotive companies to run on hydrogen, so much so that we had a program called the BC Hydrogen Highway. It was supposed to link Vancouver and Whistler and seven fueling stations were planned. In 2007, Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper announced funding of almost $200 million Canadian for environmental projects in B.C. including the hydrogen highway.

It is necessary for us the consumers, to show our power by tightening our belts and changing to healthier lifestyles.

For example: Consumers can target a specific oil company to make their purchases for three months in a row. This will make the other oil companies take notice and bring down their prices and enable competitive market forces to takeover. Let’s remind ourselves that the consumer is king!

So the next time we sit behind a wheel or jump into a fuel guzzling vehicle can we just pause and tell our minds to think of the 2 Km golden idea: walk or cycle to the destination. Most of us can easily walk 2 km for a start, since most stores, markets, schools and bus stops are within that range.

These 2 km saved by each of us is equal to a healthy lifestyle, a healthy body, less sickness and a fresher world around us. The compounding benefits of the 2 km golden idea.

Sources: www.forbes.com, oil-price.net, www.eia.gov, www.greenfieldethanol.com, www.piquenewsmagazine.com/whistler/whatever-happened-to-the-hydrogen-highway/Content?oid=2283903, common sense.

  

Searching for Wi-Fi

Geena Papini, Grade 11

Listen very carefully. Can you hear it? Echoing throughout our corridors is the sad, plaintive call of nearly 12,000 people lamenting the loss of their beloved Wi-Fi. Classes grind to a halt as teachers realise their videos aren’t buffering, students pull out their hair as they try to download the overdue homework they emailed to themselves, only to find the internet- gone.

Or at the very least, there, but not connecting.

It is true; we have never loved the Wi-Fi here at Carson. It’s slow, and unreliable (Seriously, it feels like there’s less bandwidth than a house), and notorious for tricking you into thinking it’s going to work only to die on you when you’re up in front of the class giving a prezi. No doubt you’ve had, or know someone who’s had a similar experience. The internet at Carson isn’t ideal- anyone who’s used it knows that- but it’s better than nothing, right? The world can call us unhealthily internet-dependant if they like, but the truth is, Wi-Fi is now a vital part of student, teacher, and admin life. We use it primarily for research, but a majority of senior students (and quite a few junior ones, I imagine) also use it to manage homework and projects, download presentations, and contact teachers during spare blocks. Our teachers, too, are at the mercy of our Wi-Fi’s whims, as they rely on heavily on BCESIS, an internet-based program, to take attendance, store grades, homework and manage other student information. BCESIS isn’t the most loved program- you’ll find plenty of teachers who will easily curse its name- but that is what they have to work with, and when the internet is down….well can you blame them for being irritable? They also often need internet to teach their classes; whether they’re showing a video, looking at a website, or trying the download the amazing worksheets they’ve spent hours altering to perfection. When the internet’s gone, they can’t do any of that, and while that at first may seem like an amazing situation (no class work, yay!!), let me tell you, it’s not. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I like to get all my work done in class. It means I don’t have to do a mountain-load of homework, which is what has been happening the past few days as a result of the fact that no work gets done in class.

So now we’ve come to the whole point of this article. We all know that we need the internet, and not only that, we need reliable internet. For the past few weeks, we have not had that- the teacher’s network has been sketchy at the best of times, and the NVSD-Portal- the student network, has been all but non-existent. There have been rumors flying around as to why this is, and the one that I’ve heard not only from students, but teachers as well, is that somebody, most likely a student, has hacked the networks and has infected it with a virus. I personally don’t know if this is 100% true, but if it is- this is for that person: Bravo. You can hack. Good for you, I’m sure your parents are so proud. Now that you’ve taken joy in destroying something that is vital to the school, and you’ve had your fun feeling like such a rebel- I kindly request that you stop this childish uprising, and give us back our Wi-Fi. Do you honestly think that people will admire you for making their lives that much harder? Maybe you think you’re doing everyone a favour; that we won’t have to do as much school work without the internet, but that is dead wrong, and school is stressful enough without having to worry about whether or not the Wi-Fi will work when you have to get up in front of the class and do a huge presentation. So please, if there really is someone sabotaging the internet- stop. This isn’t a threat, or a promise of retribution. But know this: if this keeps going and we eventually do find out who the culprit is, I sincerely doubt that anyone will be in a particularly forgiving mood. Just something to think about.

If hacking isn’t the problem, well then, I guess we can all go back to complaining about shoddy building quality and the broke school district. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed, and maybe help the school out by fundraising for a better system.