Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Das Energi
So I'm on here right? I decided to click the 'next blog' button to see what would pop up.THIS came up and all I could think was wow... look at that awful grammar. It's like there's no hope anymore I know few people who actually care how they spell. I get b____tched at all the time on facebook for correcting others it's like I'm sorry you're a total idiot I'm trying to help you so maybe if you ever get a job you won't look like the idiot you are on your reseme when you can't spell things right. People these days... I've corrected 2 honors english students on their you're / yours (not sure if I've mentioned that before but I'll do it again!). So sad... In other news I'm going to a rave this saturday. If you're not sure what a rave here's the definition: "Rave, rave dance, and rave party are parties that originated mostly from acid house parties, which featured fast-paced electronic music and light shows. At these parties people dance and socialize to dance music played by disc jockeys (dj's) and occasionally live performers. The genres of electronic dance music played include house, trance, psytrance, techno, dubstep, jungle, jungle techno, drum and bass, UK Hardcore, Hardcore techno, Happy hardcore, breakbeat, hardstyle and many others with the accompaniment of laser light shows, projected images, paint, glowsticks and smoke machines." So basically a gathering of people dancing and having a blast to techno music, like a concert but x290384 better in my opinion. Everyone is so happy there. Raves have bad reputations though, everyone thinks that nearly all the people there are on ecstacy or some type of drug. That's not even the case, yeah sure there are a few that do that stuff at raves but that happens everywhere. For all you know your neighbor could be rolling right now (doing ecstacy). I for one would never do these drugs but others enjoy experiencing the trip it gives and I don't have a problem with people who do. I'm really excited though and the date pretty coincidental since it's a day off exactly one year since I went to the last (and only) rave on May 27th. It was the best day of my life hands down and I hope Das Energi is just as dope and tops last years.
Why not put it on here... it's an extra blog. (:
Formal analysis
It gets the mind working, thinking, and wondering. Ray Bradbury is an accomplished American Essayist, poet, novelist, short-story writer, screenwriter, and playwright who grew up in Illinois most of his life and is extremely talented in portraying his captivating and creative tales. His writing style is like none other, as most would agree. Some claim Ray is a science fiction writer; nevertheless, others bicker that he simply applies the far-out setting to castigate racism, nuclear war, censorship, technology, humanistic principles, and nuclear war. All of his work relates closely to his personal experiences, what he has gone through, and the life he lives to this day
First, his early existence in the state of Arizona and Illinois greatly influenced some of his first writings. This was around the time when he began experimenting with literature such as writing. Bradbury’s writing style is distinctly related to his experiences that he’s had in the past, Ray said that he acquired the knowledge to write by remembering past experiences. All the while this course of time, Bradbury starts to slowly but surely discover himself as a writer. "The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine percent of them is in a book.” p. 86
Ray Bradbury discovered his process for writing and own unique one-of-a-kind style. His major commissions represent the emotions going through most Americans minds during the period in time in which Bradbury wrote. The Martian Chronicles, for instance, is his first distinguished novel, known by plenty. The Martian Chronicles still remain one of his eminent novels, it is a fantastic exhibit of this since it depicts the readers feelings about 'atomic warfare' while World War II was taking place. "If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides of a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none." p. 61
Ray Bradbury's writing style should basically be considered it's own genre, I have yet to read a book that is anywhere near similar to that of a Bradbury book. It's quite enjoyable to have such a change in literature, he wasn't my favorite author but I'm sure that's not the case will thousands of others across America. A quote from 'the locusts' , in my opinion, greatly shows the artistic flow and talent that this man has in his writing. "The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmitted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. "The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke. And from the rockets ran men with hammers in their hands to beat the strange world into a shape that was familiar to the eye, to bludgeon away all the strangeness, their mouths fringed with nails so they resembled steel-toothed carnivores, spitting them into their swift hands as they hammered up frame cottages and scuttled over roofs with shingles to blot out the eerie stars, and fit green shades to pull against the night. And when the carpenters had hurried on, the women came in with flowerpots and chintz and pans and set up a kitchen clamor to cover the silence that Mars made waiting outside the door and the shaded window." p. 78
In conclusion, Rad Bradbury is truly a remarkable writer. His work seems to be simply timeless, and will be in the minds of Americans for hopefully generations to come. One of the many criteria that makes him such an incredible writer is his intensely unique style of writing, it's basically unmatched. He's so descriptive and uses the strangest most lovely examples to truly set the eery mood for whatever he may be writing. He grew up and lived in Illinois most of his life and was a very successful American Essayist, poet, novelist, short-story writer, screenwriter, and playwright. Ray Bradbury's literature was all linked with experiences he has had throughout his lifetime which is part of the truly interesting writing style that this man has. It's nearly it's own genre.
It gets the mind working, thinking, and wondering. Ray Bradbury is an accomplished American Essayist, poet, novelist, short-story writer, screenwriter, and playwright who grew up in Illinois most of his life and is extremely talented in portraying his captivating and creative tales. His writing style is like none other, as most would agree. Some claim Ray is a science fiction writer; nevertheless, others bicker that he simply applies the far-out setting to castigate racism, nuclear war, censorship, technology, humanistic principles, and nuclear war. All of his work relates closely to his personal experiences, what he has gone through, and the life he lives to this day
First, his early existence in the state of Arizona and Illinois greatly influenced some of his first writings. This was around the time when he began experimenting with literature such as writing. Bradbury’s writing style is distinctly related to his experiences that he’s had in the past, Ray said that he acquired the knowledge to write by remembering past experiences. All the while this course of time, Bradbury starts to slowly but surely discover himself as a writer. "The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine percent of them is in a book.” p. 86
Ray Bradbury discovered his process for writing and own unique one-of-a-kind style. His major commissions represent the emotions going through most Americans minds during the period in time in which Bradbury wrote. The Martian Chronicles, for instance, is his first distinguished novel, known by plenty. The Martian Chronicles still remain one of his eminent novels, it is a fantastic exhibit of this since it depicts the readers feelings about 'atomic warfare' while World War II was taking place. "If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides of a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none." p. 61
Ray Bradbury's writing style should basically be considered it's own genre, I have yet to read a book that is anywhere near similar to that of a Bradbury book. It's quite enjoyable to have such a change in literature, he wasn't my favorite author but I'm sure that's not the case will thousands of others across America. A quote from 'the locusts' , in my opinion, greatly shows the artistic flow and talent that this man has in his writing. "The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmitted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. "The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke. And from the rockets ran men with hammers in their hands to beat the strange world into a shape that was familiar to the eye, to bludgeon away all the strangeness, their mouths fringed with nails so they resembled steel-toothed carnivores, spitting them into their swift hands as they hammered up frame cottages and scuttled over roofs with shingles to blot out the eerie stars, and fit green shades to pull against the night. And when the carpenters had hurried on, the women came in with flowerpots and chintz and pans and set up a kitchen clamor to cover the silence that Mars made waiting outside the door and the shaded window." p. 78
In conclusion, Rad Bradbury is truly a remarkable writer. His work seems to be simply timeless, and will be in the minds of Americans for hopefully generations to come. One of the many criteria that makes him such an incredible writer is his intensely unique style of writing, it's basically unmatched. He's so descriptive and uses the strangest most lovely examples to truly set the eery mood for whatever he may be writing. He grew up and lived in Illinois most of his life and was a very successful American Essayist, poet, novelist, short-story writer, screenwriter, and playwright. Ray Bradbury's literature was all linked with experiences he has had throughout his lifetime which is part of the truly interesting writing style that this man has. It's nearly it's own genre.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury (1950)
Bradbury's Mars is a land of dreams, hope, crystal pillars, and fossil seas-where a finely grained dust settles on the wonderful, barren cities of a silently demolished civilization. Here, the earthlings invade and come to commercialize, despoil, to grow, and to learn. First a trickle of humans came, then a cascade, fleeing from their world with a seemingly non-existing future with a promise of tomorrow. The Earth people take over Mars ... and then are shortly conquered by it, becalmed by dangerous falsity of familiarity and comfort, enchanted by the loitering beauty of an extremely ancient, and mysterious native Martian race. Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles is a classic work that is not questionable. However, it didn’t appeal to me all too much. Ray Bradbury’s imagination and literary skills are why he’s one of America’s favorite authors; he is a truly remarkable author whose work will remain undimmed by time’s passing.
This book is obviously from the 50’s because the theme/s of this novel has already been used in plentiful amounts of science fiction books. Since this book was also from a time with strong feminist and racist thoughts, it disturbed me to read these parts of the Martian Chronicles. The sequence of short stories was not appealing to me because they were all superb ideas and every one of the stories making up this book could have been an incredible book themselves. It’s kind of random and spazzy I think, to have such a variety in one novel.
In the late 20th century, rockets from earth began arriving on Mars. The Martians tried to defend themselves and their planet with their telepathic abilities, at one point they projected a false projection of a town inhabited by the absent relatives of one rocket’s crew, but they are gradually killed off by the exposure to chicken pox, their bodies have no way to protect this from happening. Earth-men start arriving on Mars and settling many communities. The reasons for these exploring men coming to Mars are different, but all view Mars as a planet that exists solely for their usage and purposes when they don’t even realize the culture and beauty that is the Martians and their planet.
Bradbury’s writing style is impressively unique. A majority authors are distant, unknown, and unimportant beings that are somehow or distantly connected to the story. Ray Bradbury, on the other hand, is very much present in all (or what I have read) of his literary work. After reading and analyzing what Mr. Bradbury has to say, you can visualize and understand him as a person. The many varying component that consist of Mr. Bradbury’s writing style. Only you can decide if it’s for you or not.
In conclusion, this series of short stories is about Earthmen traveling to the planet Mars, they soon discover about the Martians that live there. They play to use the planet for their own selfish human needs as if the planet belongs to them. The Martians tried defending their planet, culture, and over all population with their telepathic abilities. Mr. Bradbury’s writing style is a classic, one of America’s most beloved writers whose work and creativity will remain a favorite unchanged by time.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Furry Vengeance
The crack of the .308 cal AR-30 was loud enough to twitch my ears. I
saw my target drop to the ground in cover, as the shell of my round
clanked against the old hardwood floor. Time to change positions before I
give away my location I thought to myself. I pulled out of the room I
set up in, and dropped down a floor through a collapsed hole in the
flooring. I set up again, covering myself as much as possible in the
shadows of the abandoned apartment room. Looks like a lot of chaos in
the streets, civilians are pointing in all directions at different
windows. I looked around the streets through my scope, my target was
gone… milk me.
I woke up the following morning, licked myself clean, coughed the occasional hairball. I put on my black suit, and grabbed my gun case. “Mr. Whiskers” they call me. I fought in the great Fur Wars of 1946, scored the most kills of my platoon. Sadly, I love killing, it became a hobby of mine… At first they were simple murders, mass murders, a serial killer if you prefer… It was so satisfying to see the headline of every news paper “Another 20 dogs murdered”. However, it was just too easy… I wanted a challenge in my life, to make it a specialized career. I met the strangest cat… He calls himself “Tron Cat”, and he’s the one that gave me the business in a Hitman career. Years have gone by though… The business has collapsed ever since Nyan Cat Industries took over. Its been hard, but I’ve learned from the best, and I became my own Killin’ Kitty.
I set back up in the abandoned apartments. This place is dreadful, I should have brought my ball of yarn. I looked out of my scope and adjusted my sights. “Where is he…” I thought to myself as I scanned the streets for my expected target. “Meow! What’s thi–” PEW. I instantly laid down. “What the furball!?” PEW, PEW, PEW. I rolled up into a ball, I saw the incoming fire this time… Lasers? There was a long silence… it was dead quiet. The second I got back on my sniper rifle, it hit me. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. A laser round went through the very end of my tail. I looked back at it to watch my fur singe off from the end of it, the heat of the blast closed up my wound quickly. Focusing back on the task at hand, I heard the weirdest sound… getting louder and louder… “nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan”, each “nyan” was followed by a laser round, and it made those sounds quickly. The entire apartment was being shot up, I fell down the collapsed hole, as lasers burned by my head on the way down. I landed and looked back up, the building was catching on fire, I had to get out, fast.
I dashed through the streets, which were for some unknown reasons were completely empty. I shortly realized I left my gear in the apartment, no chance of recovering it now… A storm of lasers were hailing down upon me, I didn’t lose speed, and I didn’t stop zig-zagging. So this is how it all ends, i’m going to die by the most annoying sounding, 8-bit cat the internet seems to love and adore. I miss Keyboard Cat… Why did he have to pass away? I feel something inside of me… Building up…
*COUGH* A hairball erupts out of the black cat onto a computer monitor. “MR. WHISKERS!” Rachel yelled, “Falling asleep on my computer is one thing, but coughing hairballs all over the monitor is another!” She cleaned up the mess and got on the computer. “What is this?” She looks into the internet history, its nothing but Nyan Cat, Sniper Rifles, and massive balls of yarn.
-675 words
I woke up the following morning, licked myself clean, coughed the occasional hairball. I put on my black suit, and grabbed my gun case. “Mr. Whiskers” they call me. I fought in the great Fur Wars of 1946, scored the most kills of my platoon. Sadly, I love killing, it became a hobby of mine… At first they were simple murders, mass murders, a serial killer if you prefer… It was so satisfying to see the headline of every news paper “Another 20 dogs murdered”. However, it was just too easy… I wanted a challenge in my life, to make it a specialized career. I met the strangest cat… He calls himself “Tron Cat”, and he’s the one that gave me the business in a Hitman career. Years have gone by though… The business has collapsed ever since Nyan Cat Industries took over. Its been hard, but I’ve learned from the best, and I became my own Killin’ Kitty.
I set back up in the abandoned apartments. This place is dreadful, I should have brought my ball of yarn. I looked out of my scope and adjusted my sights. “Where is he…” I thought to myself as I scanned the streets for my expected target. “Meow! What’s thi–” PEW. I instantly laid down. “What the furball!?” PEW, PEW, PEW. I rolled up into a ball, I saw the incoming fire this time… Lasers? There was a long silence… it was dead quiet. The second I got back on my sniper rifle, it hit me. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. A laser round went through the very end of my tail. I looked back at it to watch my fur singe off from the end of it, the heat of the blast closed up my wound quickly. Focusing back on the task at hand, I heard the weirdest sound… getting louder and louder… “nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan nyan”, each “nyan” was followed by a laser round, and it made those sounds quickly. The entire apartment was being shot up, I fell down the collapsed hole, as lasers burned by my head on the way down. I landed and looked back up, the building was catching on fire, I had to get out, fast.
I dashed through the streets, which were for some unknown reasons were completely empty. I shortly realized I left my gear in the apartment, no chance of recovering it now… A storm of lasers were hailing down upon me, I didn’t lose speed, and I didn’t stop zig-zagging. So this is how it all ends, i’m going to die by the most annoying sounding, 8-bit cat the internet seems to love and adore. I miss Keyboard Cat… Why did he have to pass away? I feel something inside of me… Building up…
*COUGH* A hairball erupts out of the black cat onto a computer monitor. “MR. WHISKERS!” Rachel yelled, “Falling asleep on my computer is one thing, but coughing hairballs all over the monitor is another!” She cleaned up the mess and got on the computer. “What is this?” She looks into the internet history, its nothing but Nyan Cat, Sniper Rifles, and massive balls of yarn.
-675 words
I will start writing a poem and we'll see how this ends...
Hi my name is lexi and I really love apples.
I eat them every day, I'd even eat them on my waffles.
I tried that in foods once, it tasted pretty nasty,
but I bet I could find a way to make them tasty.
My friends always joke around about how I have apples every morning and every day after school,
I say it's because I'm just too cool.
Too cool for school that is,
Hi my name is lexi and I really love apples.
I would almost change my name to miss apple.
Wouldn't that be insane if there was an apple that was purple?
It would truly blow my mind, the thought is just plain crazy!
Now on a totally different subject,
Hi my name is lexi and I really like watermelon.
If all you ate was this melon, you'd probably look like a skeleton!
I reckon, all that watermelon I be eatin'
has got all my taste buds recedin'
I just eat it too dang much.
Then all of a sudden it was like a strange BANG, I realized maybe I liked cake more so than apples and watermelon!
Cake, what a wonderful creation.
Filling the empty stomachs of the fatties around our nation,
we will not ration the world would go crazy without cake.
Wake n bake it's just what I do,
I bake a cake everyday before I go to schoo'.
Chocolate cake, vanilla cake, swirly cake, strawberry, or even a confetti cake.
I'd eat it in a lake,
in a guy named blake,
on top of a freight,
bouncing on eight trains,
I eat cake just about anywhere.
Heck, I'll even wear the dang dessert if you want me to.
Actually you know whats even better than cake, watermelon, and apples?
Brownies.
Brownies, far as the eye can see.
A truly breath taking land awaiting me,
Oh how free I would feel in such a beautiful place, filled with brownie goodness.
We would go together like pickles and ice cream, pizza and Americans, dirt and plants, teddy bears and a new born child!
This poem is getting pretty lame,
maybe then I'll see the fame,
I have about as much poetic talent as Rebecca Black,
maybe I'll just go back to doing my homework as good children do.
Actually, I think I'll stay a bit longer, you know why?
This is my homework, or some of it.
I spy with my little eye about 80 words to go.
You haters can't match my flow! (hehe)
RANDOM RHYMING TIME OH YEAH!
cat hat flat mat scat flap frappe latte clone scone brown clown crown gown bow flow slow fro yo cool school tool duel fruit scoot boogey orangey catastrophe loop boop goop coup coop rope mope vote mote wont
Back to the poem session, children!
Well I am just about to bid you adieu,
But the lid on this creative mind is just about to explode,
I'm not in one of those motivated moods,
oh how can I be so crude?
-505 words
I eat them every day, I'd even eat them on my waffles.
I tried that in foods once, it tasted pretty nasty,
but I bet I could find a way to make them tasty.
My friends always joke around about how I have apples every morning and every day after school,
I say it's because I'm just too cool.
Too cool for school that is,
Hi my name is lexi and I really love apples.
I would almost change my name to miss apple.
Wouldn't that be insane if there was an apple that was purple?
It would truly blow my mind, the thought is just plain crazy!
Now on a totally different subject,
Hi my name is lexi and I really like watermelon.
If all you ate was this melon, you'd probably look like a skeleton!
I reckon, all that watermelon I be eatin'
has got all my taste buds recedin'
I just eat it too dang much.
Then all of a sudden it was like a strange BANG, I realized maybe I liked cake more so than apples and watermelon!
Cake, what a wonderful creation.
Filling the empty stomachs of the fatties around our nation,
we will not ration the world would go crazy without cake.
Wake n bake it's just what I do,
I bake a cake everyday before I go to schoo'.
Chocolate cake, vanilla cake, swirly cake, strawberry, or even a confetti cake.
I'd eat it in a lake,
in a guy named blake,
on top of a freight,
bouncing on eight trains,
I eat cake just about anywhere.
Heck, I'll even wear the dang dessert if you want me to.
Actually you know whats even better than cake, watermelon, and apples?
Brownies.
Brownies, far as the eye can see.
A truly breath taking land awaiting me,
Oh how free I would feel in such a beautiful place, filled with brownie goodness.
We would go together like pickles and ice cream, pizza and Americans, dirt and plants, teddy bears and a new born child!
This poem is getting pretty lame,
maybe then I'll see the fame,
I have about as much poetic talent as Rebecca Black,
maybe I'll just go back to doing my homework as good children do.
Actually, I think I'll stay a bit longer, you know why?
This is my homework, or some of it.
I spy with my little eye about 80 words to go.
You haters can't match my flow! (hehe)
RANDOM RHYMING TIME OH YEAH!
cat hat flat mat scat flap frappe latte clone scone brown clown crown gown bow flow slow fro yo cool school tool duel fruit scoot boogey orangey catastrophe loop boop goop coup coop rope mope vote mote wont
Back to the poem session, children!
Well I am just about to bid you adieu,
But the lid on this creative mind is just about to explode,
I'm not in one of those motivated moods,
oh how can I be so crude?
-505 words
I don't completely approve of the new blogger.
Hello Stranger. Goodbye Stranger. What? Your curiosity wont leave? Well then, the names Alexis. But you can call me Lexi. I love the color purple & I love to draw pretty much anything especially, and I'm really good at it. August 20th is the day i get to say I've lived another year! (my birthday) My favorite animal is a moose. I hate mint gum. I really REALLY love Powerade, it's my thing ya dig? I enjoy pretty much all the seasons but winter is my favorite lately. I enjoy not having to care what I look like and just put on a hoodie. I love it when its warm and raining! Thunder and lightning don't scare me, I've noticed that with a large amount of teenagers that is not the case for some peculiar reason.I thoroughly enjoy my friends and their company but in the long run I trust no one. The sad thing is, my family taught me I can never trust anyone. I learned that the hard way. I wanna sky dive and scuba dive before I pass. I have a kitten named Izzy. I am agnostic (I believe in a higher power but not 'god' because I believe there is a severe lack of proof to support the religions theory that such a power can exist). I am what you would call a super Grammar Police. I find it extremely irritating when I don't agree with ones musical tastes and they freak out on me for not enjoying their musical style. I am extremely independent, more so than most people at my age should have to be. I feel like I must impress EVERYONE I meet.I listen to: Dubstep, hardstyle, heavy metal, old school music of all kinds. I respect others if they respect me back, respect is immediate with most people. I'm far from a judgmental person, I have experienced enough to have had my thoughts changed about being such a 'butt' in lighter terms to others. If I hear someone is talking about me I will confront them because I think people who talk to others only on facebook and not in real life are one of the many falls of this present generation. You can often find me on facebook correcting the idiots that are consisting of my friends list.I have absolutely no idea what I want to be when I grow older, all I know is that I want to go to college to get more money throughout my lifetime. I'm rather splendid at designing and creating blogs with coding/etc so maybe that will be a future career choice of mine. The universe sparks my interests, the unknowns, the areas non-military peoples, I want to explore all of these things. Eminem is my Idol, I would do anything to meet him one day. He has been there and understands my problems deeper than I thought a complete stranger could. You can not tell me what to do and what not to do, I do as a please.
-508 words
-508 words
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
I like to poke holes in the top of my water bottle cap so I can drink it in a peculiar way. (april.1)
Nice title right? I thought you'd think that. It's just a lot funner, and it makes it seem like the water is never ending! This blog, and possibly the next blog, are going to be summaries of movies I have seen recently. First off, let's start with the movie I saw today. Side note: You'll notice that a majority of the movies on here are old, I have quite the collection of VHS's at my house. I love old things, not saying they're that old but they're old enough to where I'd want them. Back to the point, I finished 'Better Off Dead' this afternoon. This was quite the incredible movie, I must admit. On my top 20 favorite movies, that's for sure. It was about this guy Lane Myer who really enjoyed to ski. The beginning of the show shows him trying out for the ski team at his high school, he would have made it if this Jock-butt face would've pressed the time down when Lane really did cross the finish line. He was '2 seconds off' when he really made it down the mountain just in time. One of the first things you learn about Lane, however, is his obsessive love for his girlfriend Beth Truss. He has these freaky neighbors, the mother is kind of milfy (kind of like a cougar if you for some reason don't know the definition of this it's a 40+ year old woman who prowls for younger men and attempts to look younger but completely fails.) but the son is just the chubbiest nerdiest kid you could possible think of. I thought this was going to be a waste of time, just a dumb movie from the eighties. I was wrong, this is a fantastic movie! As you continue watching a new, french foreign exchange student moves into the family he lives across from (the chubby family). They say she can't speak a single word of english, but about a little past half way through the movie we come to find that she only did that because "it's better to not talk at all, in a family such as theirs." (or something close to that) He was completely devastated when Beth broke up with him, she was his world, he attempted suicide many times. They were silly attempts because he'd realize shortly after he tried to kill himself that it's a bit dramatic and maybe he should reconsider what he's going to do to himself. Beth left Lane for the ski captain in the ski high school group. I believe she realizes her mistake later on in the movie with realizing how big of a jerk the guy is to everyone, especially Lane but the movie never verifies if that is true or not. Lane and the french foreign exchange student start to hang out a lot (especially after he finds out she speaks English) fall in love, just like all the viewers of this movie thought would happen. She's a very pretty girl, if you haven't seen this movie and would like to see how pretty she is her real name is Diane Franklin. Such a beautiful 80's woman!
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