Solving World Hunger

Tsk Tsk. You didn't eat all the food on your plate. Don't you know children in Africa are starving?

World hunger may seem like it's not a big deal. Why don't people eat grass and tree bark? Well, for the same reason everybody else doesn't. it's not edible and digestible. Actually 3.5 million children die every year to hunger. That's only the children. Millions of adults die every year too from malnutrition and diseases that attack their weakened immune systems. 

So the big question is how can we end world hunger. My 9th grade world history teacher came up with the perfect solution. Feed them the elderly. Solves all the big problems of today. 

There's hungry children? Eat the elderly.

Financial debt too large? Eat the elderly.

The population is getting too big? Eat the elderly.

Maybe old people are just too mean and crotchety. Just eat them.

Together we can solve world hunger one old person at a time. Think of the children.

Jainism

 Sadly, the SAT is coming up and parents everywhere are shoving their kids off to whatever class that takes the most time. I am one of those kids who now must dedicate my very lively hood  hunched over a desk, crying on the inside, yet gritting my teeth and carrying on. In my torture class, I came upon an article about Jainism.

This religion started out in India where a rich man suddenly found enlightenment and decided to enter the ranks of poverty. The religion holds many beliefs like harmlessness and renunciation. Their belief in harmless is so potent, in fact, that they will refuse to eat root vegetables as it's bad for the mind/body and essentially kills the vegetable.

People today are so concerned about meat, fish, lobsters, that it seems the extent of these floras existence is having vitamins and making oxygen. No one takes the time to consider the root vegetable. Carrots, radishes, and turnips no longer count as beings, but as objects -- bad tasting ones at that. At least potatoes contribute to taste bud society.

Every year millions of root vegetables are grown in farms across the world. They are living beings, too. Imagine if millions of baby chicks were grown every year and slaughtered and turned into chicken nuggets. Oh Wait.

The marked man

Blue, Yellow, Red! The colors swirled throughout the screen as the monotonous speaker droned on about profit margins and marketing spiel. I noticed these colors seemed to blur around the outlines of all the men in the room, but not one color seemed to grace the all-business suits the men wore. The colors brown, black, and grey hogged all the space on the clothing and they didn't exactly demand attention. The men's hair differed from combed, to uncombed, and even a bald one. Whenever they spoke it all seemed to be with the same voice, as if they were all robotic recordings -- never speaking just telling. My eyes started to wander and a speck of color glinted across the room. A woman wearing an ornate yellow butterfly brooch was animatedly taking notes. Under her business attire was a blue blouse only showing at the edges. Her glasses at first glance seemed to be completely inconspicuous until the light reflected a dark red rim as her eyes darted between the screen and her pad. There was something special about what she was wearing; something seemed to stand out about her that screamed attention. Then it hit me that she was completely unique in the meeting. She had some mark that symbolized who she was and only she had that mark. I looked back at all the other corporate men who were still driveling on about financial trends and I wondered "Why are there so many unmarked men?"

Playing with Mother

    If you went to my house during the summer you could tell everything was just fine. The flowers were in bloom and there was laughter and sunshine filling the air with joy like our own Garden of Eden. There wasn't anything terribly wrong. My mother and I both like to play games, lay down relaxing, and fancy bubbly drinks were our drink of choice

    My mother and I disagree on one thing and that was at what time to get up -- I prefer later and she leans toward earlier.

    I am the son of an IT software designer. I like to call my house the United States to Peace.
 I was six when I moved into that quiet house. I distinctly remember my mother cooking a warm home-cooked meal while my family and I sat around the dinner table watching TV.

My mother and I used to tell jokes to each other and laugh heartily, I bought a joke book in China and we'd read our favorite jokes and have fun. It was a good time.

Nowadays my mother and I seem to argue about some of the smallest things. She'd tell me to finish some random 1000 page SAT book and I'd say that was totally unreasonable. I wasn't always so rebellious. There were times when I would actually enjoy my mother's company and we could do family activities.

There were times when we could play games like Sorry and Life, knocking pieces aside or collecting cash from all the tiles. It was a blast. The games were really useful when my friends came over too. I could just grab a random board game whenever a party got stale.

Of course nowadays I prefer playing games online with my friends and my mother seems to enjoy her Candy Crush. She definitely seems to enjoy denying me the chance to go online and play games with my friends there. She insists on studying and whatnot, like a typical Asian mom on Youtube. Of course she tells me her history of how when she had to go to school she studied all day long and she her brother studied all the time too.

Now it seems we share different hobbies and we separate ourselves into our own corners of the house.