Censor Me

The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books 1990-2007 (American Library Association)

The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books 2000-2007 (ALA)

Somehow I ended up looking at these lists today. It's sad that many of what are usually considered staples of children's literature frequently receive ban attempts. If the people who find these books inappropriate in some way all succeeded, what would be left? Nothing but (some) alphabet books and those sickening YA novels that go along the lines of: Once upon a time there was a girl named Cassie who was blond and skinny and smart and good at sports and had tons of friends and was a good, observant Christian*..... ARRAGH!

I've read a little more than half of the books on the two lists combined. Many of them are, or have been, favorites at some point. I understand how some would cause parents and teachers to be concerned, for example Bridge to Terabithia (#9 1990-2000, #20 2000-2007) is intense- an eleven-year-old girl dies, and this might traumatize some less mature kids, because, as we all know, death of a loved one is a terrifying prospect. But, it's not graphic; the protagonist never even sees the corpse of the girl. By age 10 or 11, only the most naive haven't encountered death in some form. I imagine that this book also received some negative criticism for the young protagonist having a crush on one of his teachers, but hey, that happens too, and it's not as if the relationship goes anywhere. Bridge to Terabithia was one of those books I hated right after I read it, but I've come to appreciate it over the years.

Sometimes I wonder if people realize that they're trying to censor life. Drugs happen. Sex happens. There are non-major religions. God fucking knows profanity occurs. Homosexuality is not something made up for literature-land (and why people see it as a problem in literature in the first place mystifies me. You might as well ban heterosexual couples.) In the award-winning Speak (#65 2000-2007), a young teenager deals with the aftermath of being raped, and Cut, a YA novel about self-injury, is ranked #86 on the 2000-2007 list. Some people even try to remove books from libraries because the characters don't use correct grammar (Junie B. Jones, #74 2000-2007). And for the life of me I can't figure out why Where's Waldo? made the 1990-2000 list at #88. What's offending in a search-and-find picture book? (Hm. Just looked at the Wikipedia page. Apparently one page has a woman sunbathing topless.)

As I see it, the reason so many extremely well-written books make the list is because they make people think. If a work of literature doesn't get people talking, then the author hasn't done his or her part. It's just frustrating that some people don't realize that talking about books is not a bad thing and that if the subject is something you'd be horrified at your own daughter doing the book should not be banned. And to be honest, I don't understand why everyone's perfectly OK with teaching Romeo and Juliet to fourteen-year-olds in English class but when a contemporary novel with a similar theme comes up they howl.

As far as I am able to tell, I should not be allowed to talk to other teenagers. No, my life is inappropriate. If someone were to write my story and call it fiction, I'd probably skyrocket to the top of the list. But the thing is, and this is what bothers me, all this happened. So why must we pretend that it couldn't have? I thankfully exist as a breathing person and not as a literary character, so this isn't an issue. But why do people think other teenagers need to be sheltered so? I'm not the only one who has had crap happen in her life.

*I've nothing against Christians, or blonds either for that matter- actually, Eva was both. It's just that it seems that Christians seem to be the ones making the fuss a good percentage of the time (*cough* Harry Potter) and for some strange unknown reason it seems as if almost all the girls at my school dye their hair blond... so they must think it's better somehow.

Also, I've finally gotten around to making a more decent banner. Yay? Nay?

No One Really Seems to Care

"I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall

Like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall

And so it seemed to confess

It didn't say much but it only confirmed

That the center of the earth is the end of the world

And I could really care less

.

...

.....

...

.

City of the dead

At the end of another lost highway

Signs misleading to nowhere

City of the damned

Lost children with dirty faces today

No one really seems to care..."

- from Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day

.

...

.....

...

.

Why write what I'm thinking when there's already something out there that sums it up perfectly?

The Coming White

The first flakes of snow sprinkled down today. It wasn't much at all, not even measurable, and it melted as soon as it touched ground, but it was snow all the same.

I like winter. It's quiet and dead and people don't care that you're not out and about all the time. However, the roads are sometimes next to impossible to navigate; last year the city ran out of salt for the roads (no kidding). And there's something about snow before Halloween that irks me.

My brothers and I used to build snow forts as soon as there was enough snow on the ground. And sometimes we'd try even when there wasn't.

Spring and autumn are very short where I live- most years, they're less of a season in their own right than a transition between winter and summer or summer and winter. There is something exciting about these transitions, be it a foreign breeze or strange smells and tastes. It makes one anticipate what's to come, I guess.

A lot of people complain about how dreary winter is, but I like it. Perhaps that's because the weather suits my mood, for it's only been these last few years that I've especially enjoyed the season.

Concrete Wasteland

*****

I don't really know what makes me ramble so
Some day I'll find out what it's all about
That keeps me on the go

Some say I'm running from reality's scheme
Trying to find peace of mind
They're faceless people with no distant dreams
I'm just following mine

So if seeking dreams is my trend
Then my travelling days will never end
For it's difficult to find all the wonders of my mind
As I wait for the road's last bend

*****

Is there anybody out there?

Is there anybody out there?

Is there anybody out there?

Is there anybody out there?

Is there anybody out there?

*****

Why does cyberspace have to seem so impersonal? Am I the only one left in a sea of clones?

Who is this "I" anyway?

The Suicide List in Review

As I feared, this blog has become nonsense, especially to those people who have not been reading for a very long time. Since no one has enough time to read a whole blog (and really, who'd want to?) I'd like to present a condensed, summarized, version:

February 2008

I started this blog with two posts, uncreatively titled "Part One" and "Part Two," that are essential to understanding the rest of the blog. They briefly explain Eva's suicide, and what drove me to consider my own. Almost everything I write about elaborates upon something in one of these two posts.

I like to call this the Information part of the blog. There are general encyclopedia-like entries about such topics as suicide myths and self-injury. The misconceptions about suicidal people are also touched upon for the first time, as well as mentions of hate against the emo subculture. Many of these topics will reoccur.

March 2008

Not a whole lot happens here.

April 2008

Nothing all that interesting here either. There's one post when I reflect that I've forgotten certain aspects of Eva, but other than that, nothing of note.

May 2008

Things finally started picking up some speed. I actually consider this the most interesting part of the blog. My bad poetry makes its first appearance, dealing with the repercussions of self-injury. There is more remembering/forgetting Eva, and questioning if there's a point when suicide stops being immoral. This month also contains three (according to my stats) very popular posts following the controversy surrounding the suicide of 13-year-old Hannah Bond and the alleged cause, a band called My Chemical Romance.

June 2008

June begins with a discussion of whether the accusations of selfishness at those who are considering suicide is justified. It has no real conclusion.

I then jump ahead to another post involving music, this time about The Wall by Pink Floyd.

I am also extremely shocked at the extent of hate put forth by a website called Encyclopedia Dramatica. I am so upset, in fact, that I write two posts about it.

Other sights include another bad poem about me feeling chained to the past, a follow-up post to the Hannah Bond thing, and an explanation of why I am an atheist.


July 2008

Here's what I was thinking about in July:
Reminiscing about who I used to be, in the form of a bad poem.

A heart-felt letter to Eva, containing everything I wish I could say to her.

A really good article by New York Times Magazine trying to get to the bottom of why some people succeed in committing suicide and others don't.

Religious morons on YouTube.

Me revisiting the selfish question, and still without a solid conclusion. A bit later, some lady on Yahoo! Answers states that all people with a mental illness are selfish, self-absorbed, and "don't give a crap about self-introspection."

Two debates with myself: Is suicide a waste of life? Will I really miss out on anything?


August 2008

Eva died in an August. So, Augusts are basically not all that pleasant. This was the second anniversary of her death.

If Eva had lived, I wonder where she would be now.

I muse about what this closure I am seeking is, and if I really want it. I explore my lifelong connection to reading and writing, and how it has helped me through the dark times. I also realize that I probably used to be one of those people who think suicide is stupid. However, I can assure you that I was never as insensitive and just plain fucked up as this other lady on Yahoo! Answers, who evoked around the same range of emotions as did Encyclopedia Dramatica.


September 2008

This is two years longer than I ever intended to live. However, suicide persistently stays in the back of my head.


I reflect on the Augusts of the last three years and how I've changed each year. This, of course, is in the form of a bad poem.


I write about a new award-winning book in young adult literature, Th1rteen R3asons Why by Jay Asher, the subject of which is a teen's suicide and my reactions to the novel.

October 2008
I am probably being generally unappreciative of this month. The only things that might be worth reading are a study correlating breast implants and suicide, and a rantish piece about book censorship.

November 2008

The conversation series is continued with a discussion of assisted suicide. I extract some PostSecret postcards about self-injury from the depths of the Internet, and flashback to February 2007. Meanwhile, the Internet generally goes nuts over the suicide of Abe Biggs, which was streamed live on webcam.


December 2008

I sink into another bout of depression, which may or may not have anything to do with Eva's birthday.

The year must be winding down, because PsychCentral has selected the top depression blogs of 2008.

Rest be assured though, some things never change: YouTube still has an unnaturally high population of idiots.


January 2009

Stages, detailing depression, is one of the few posts I actually like. I also write about the first time I self-injured.

I deal with an idiot school counselor (and an idiot singer), and argue with Suicide.org.

February 2009

Life is actually good; what more needs to be said?

March 2009

Self-harm awareness day is March 1st.

I can't make sense of the continued sense of almost-happy- it scares me.

And is depression really so bad? Why do we feel the need to be so darned happy all the time? I blame the Enlightenment.

Updates on Th1rteen R3asons Why- and they're different than you might expect.

April 2009

I get really sick. This is important, but I consequentally don't write much. A concern troll drops by for a visit however.

May 2009

I remain sick. I want to die. I'm back in the hole in which I started. So much for feeling pretty good a few months ago.

June 2009

Feeling of inhumanity abound.

Although depressed and cutting, I embark on a solo road trip.

Also, depression apparently doesn't exist.

July 2009

The road trip concludes.

I want to be safe with my illness, and I don't want to be defined by it either.

TWLOHA sells t-shirts, perhaps to an audience that thinks cutting is cool, trendy, and fun.

I still blame myself for Eva's death. Really.



I will do my best to update this post every few months or so, to keep a nice directory handy.

Don't Get a Boob Job

In an article published a little over a year ago (I know,VERY old news) women who choose to get breast implants are three times more likely to commit suicide.

As indicated in the article, I imagine this has more than a little to do with alleged low self-esteem. It also makes one wonder why the heck someone decided to study that in the first place.

Apologies for the recent lack of better posts- I haven't been finding inspiration, which, actually, I consider a good thing.

10 Good Things About Today

1. The three-day migraine headache has finally subsided.
2. Saturday = no school. Enough said.
3. The roof has been fixed so it doesn't leak anymore.
4. I actually have a plan to go out tonight.
5. I have succeeded in cooking an entire meal without burning anything.
6. I went to the library and checked out some interesting-looking books.
7. I did all the homework I've been assigned this weekend.
8. I found a funny Billy Joel parody on YouTube (the Journey parody is very good too).
9. Laughter.
10. I'm alive.

More Than This

"It needs to be autobiographical, or be about yourself."

Oh no.

"It can include things you've done, things you like, places you've been, places you want to go, or just almost anything else as long as it's about you- it must be representative of your life."

I gather the supplies and stare at them blankly. All the other students start working on ideas- or at least the girls do, sketching out logos of their favorite clothing stores and characters from movies they like. As usual, the boys would rather take double gym than this art class.

"Mariah, why aren't you working?"

"There's more to me."

Not to be vain, but my life is more complex than can be put into five images.

*****

That was then (seventh grade art class); this is now.

You know that there's more to me than what's in this blog, right?

Like, you know that my life isn't quite so awful as it seems, I don't think about this stuff 24/7, I have real hobbies?

Good, I just wanted to make sure.

Meme

I've considered myself tagged with a meme by la of Letters From Exile.

Instructions:
a) Answer the questions below, do a Google Image search with your answer, take a picture from the first page of results, and do it with minimal words of explanation.
b) Tag 5 other people to do the same once you’ve finished answering every question.

1. The age you’ll be on your next birthday
(Yes, this is what came up. Nothing on the page had the number on it.)


2. A place you’d like to travel to


3. Your favourite place

4. Your favourite food


5. Your favourite pet


6. Your favourite colour combination


7. Your favourite piece of clothing

8. Your favourite TV show


9. First name of your significant other


10. The town in which you live


11. Your first job


12. Your dream job

13. A bad habit you have


14. Your worst fear


15. What you’d like to do before you die





I KNOW some of these make absolutely no sense.

I also don't know who hasn't done this meme already or who'd like to.

So, take it if you want, or just leave it here for the virus to be killed.

The Trinity of the Lost

Can you miss people you've never met? And is it really right to miss people who you know will never return?

Sometimes I feel as if there's an immense, gaping, hole inside of me. It is not the hole left by Eva, no, that one is distinct. I feel as if there was something I should've done, someone I should've met, but now the opportunity has gone. I grope blindly at vapors of thought, trying to put my finger on who -or what - it is. Maybe it's that I think that I shouldn't still be suspended in this ever-present state of semi-darkness and should be out reclaiming my life.

I know it's completely normal for a person to miss someone close after they've died, or someone not so close, for that matter. After all, a large part of our lives previously consumed by that person is suddenly left stripped naked, freezing to death. But, I ask myself, if we know it's never going to change, why must we put up with ourselves like this? Evolution sure isn't all that brilliant sometimes. It's like a child who keeps wishing he could fly to Neverland.

Today is one of those days that I find myself missing so many people: Eva, myself, and that person I never met. The trinity of the lost.

Institutionalized Education 101; or, Mariah Flips Out

Cast of Characters:

MARIAH- sixteen years old, author of The Suicide List

MR. TRESSEL*- an English teacher

CARLY*- a student

AIMEE*- a student

OTHER STUDENTS- a mass of nameless classmates

(*name has been changed to protect the person's identity. I may be mean, but I'm not that mean.)

Setting: Friday, October 3, 2008, a dank classroom, third hour English

(Scene opens. MR. TRESSEL is standing at the front of the room. The STUDENTS are sitting at their desks. The bell rings, and MARIAH slides into her seat just in time.)

MR. TRESSEL: Good morning class. Today we will continue our discussion of Hamlet to prepare you for writing your paper. I hope all of you have read the assigned pages.

(STUDENTS groan- many of them have not done the homework.)

MR. TRESSEL: Turn to page 217 in your books.

(There is more general complaining from the STUDENTS.)

CARLY: (raises hand) Mr. Tressel, this book is too hard.

MR. TRESSEL: What do you mean by that, Carly?

CARLY: Well, like, who ever talks like that? I know it's a play but... it's too hard to understand, like, there's not enough description. And, it's like I don't get all the, the, (she flips through notes to find the right word) metaphors. Why can't Shakespeare just tell us what's going on like normal people?

MARIAH: (under her breath) He does.

MR. TRESSEL: (glares at MARIAH, then answers Carly's question) Shakespeare lived during the fifteenth century- the writing style was much different then. Hamlet does include a lot of figurative language, which is why it has been chosen for this course. So, on page 217 there is a very famous monologue, or soliloquy- (AIMEE raises her hand)- yes, Aimee?

AIMEE: Can you explain what that whole big blathering about arrows and slings and a sea and sleep and dreams is about?

MR. TRESSEL: We're going to dig through it together. Who thinks they can explain the first line? (He searches around the room) .... Mariah?

MARIAH: (reads) To be or not to be, that is the question. (shuts book; she has memorized the speech years ago) To exist or not to exist. Hamlet is pondering if it would be better to have never have existed at all, and the pros and cons of life. 'Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,/ And by opposing, end them' weighs whether it is morally better to suffer and hope that suddenly things will get better, or if it is easier to try to tackle the consuming issues that are too much for one person to handle and therefore.... die.

CARLY: That was more than one line.

MARIAH: And?

MR. TRESSEL: Mariah, is there a suggestion of a particular manner of death?

MARIAH: Well, obviously, there's the implication of... (she trails off)

AIMEE: Stop, I'm still writing this down. (She scribbles frantically)

MR. TRESSEL: (somberly) There is an implication of what, Mariah?

MARIAH: I.... I.... I can't talk about this right now.

CARLY: (suddenly has an enlightenment as to what the soliloquy is about. She gets an evilish gleam in her eye) What's the matter, hmmm, Mariah? Are you too emo to say suicide?

MARIAH: (softly) I said... I can't talk about it...

AIMEE: Psh. It's not like anything has ever happened to anyone in here.

MARIAH: (jumps out of desk and stands glaring over AIMEE) HOW DO YOU KNOW? YOU THINK YOU KNOW EVERY FUCKING DETAIL OF EVERYONE'S LIFE. BUT GUESS WHAT? I GUESS YOU DON'T KNOW EVERTHING ABOUT ME! MAYBE, JUST MAYBE SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED.

(The STUDENTS stare in shock.)

MR. TRESSEL: (rubs forehead) Mariah, please calm down. It is not worth getting upset over.

MARIAH: (resolutely, as she gazes around the class) You're all clueless, aren't you? (to MR. TRESSEL) Too late. I'm already upset.

MR. TRESSEL: Consider this your second warning.

MARIAH: And Carly and Aimee get none? 'The law's delay, the insolence of office' that Shakespeare wrote of is still going strong, I see.

MR. TRESSEL: (feeblely) Mariah... ISS- now.

MARIAH: That's it- I'm DONE. FUCK YOU, (She shoves the book into her bag) FUCK THIS SCHOOL, (kicks the desk aside) AND FUCK EVERYONE WHO THINKS SUICIDE IS A SUPERFICIAL MATTER! (She storms out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind her.)

(End scene)