Oct 8 2013

Water poem

Drip, drip,drip:

into puddles and streams;

streams flowing past houses,

of people indoors,

they’re bored out of their heads,

heads filled with the knowledge,

that sometime in the near future,

the rain will subside,

leaving soggy wet soil,

for the men to then work,

work upon till it rains again,

Drip, drip,drip:

in raindrops, in hail stones,

or what form they may take,

the rain will keep going,

to rivers and lakes,

and some place on earth,

will be unlucky enough,

to bear the bright raindrops,

till the heavens subside,

Sep 30 2013

Animal farm

I think that the implied reader for animal farm is not a child. This is because of the implication of the story and what it symbolizes. For example also the story is not one truly suited to younger readers because of the fact that the story has not got a happy ending, it is also not a finished plot unlike most child books. The fact that is symbolizes the hypocritical government of Russia also shows that it is meant for a reader that understands what it is about.

Sep 29 2013

I cant seem to access the homework on The class page, as every time I click onto “year nine- Mr north” it goes to year 8. Does anyone have the homework table?

Sep 21 2013

George Orwell Language Devices

George Orwell uses language devices such as empathy to make the reader put themselves in each others shoes and feel for the characters.

‘they had no reason for thinking that it would be within their own lifetime,’

This example shows that what they are doing may not even be for the animals own benefit, which can be sad, but also shows that the animals are willing to sacrifice themselves for others, a quality not normally seen in farm animals. This is usually seen done by humans, for example humans have made roads. These roads were built by people that would not necessarily benefit from it. Yet they let others come along and use it for free. Animals have made great things as well, such as nests and dams but they generally only benefit the builder. This shows that George Orwell has also used personification to present the animals.

Sep 15 2013

My seven commandments

1. Whatever goes upon four legs or has wings is an enemy.

2. Whatevever goes upon two legs is a friend.

3. A human with an oppertunity must harm or kill an enemy.

4. No human must be found portraying animal instincts.

5. All humans are equal- in different ways

6. No human shall consume any animal product.

7. A human found disobeying any rule will be punishable by death or exile.


The thoughts behind my commandments:
As George Orwell made the commandments for the animals against humans, so I decided to convert them from human commandments to animals commandments and then back to human. So the commandments will be assumming that at the end of the story the animals win, and the humans that are surviving are forced into labour (although this does not happen). So the humans make commandments against the Animal race. But the humans are slightly more severe in their commandments…

“Two legs good, Four legs bad!”

Jul 18 2013

Dystopian thing

Mr. Waugh
I would like this to be in the book thingy


I crunched on my dry, crusty bread. We had run out of water again, it’s dry taste in my mouth, sour from its days in the zone. I had been told about the zone once, but I would rather not be reminded of what it was like in there. Its location was secret, so nobody could go and scavenge, but also to hide its secrets. How I knew it had secrets I am not entirely sure, but just the thought of what the terrible place may be hiding. A vulture squaked from its perch above, this was a signal for me ; to get out of this place. Dusk was lowering now enveloping the light, clenching out the life that was left in this gloomy place. I set off at a jog, as the sounds of the night started approaching, forcing me back to the shelter of my vault.

My heavy steel doors rolled into place to keep me safe for the night, my one use of protection against the creatures outside. I had just half a loaf of bread to last me for the next day, so I started to finish it off, each bite of the gruelling substance draining my taste buds of the taste they deserved to get, but I was denied, a feeling that I was getting used to feeling in this world. The emptiness that surrounded our homes and the life that proceeded within them, seeming to be cut off from the rest of the world somehow. Or maybe there would be no better place to get to, maybe everywhere else was just as desolate as where I lived. I entered the room where my parents used to live. Silence, silence everywhere surrounded me. I ventured into a deep sleep in the old chair I used to sit in when I was a child, gnarled and cracked it had somehow survived through the times. For this chair at least times had not changed, had not moved on like like most people, trying to find a better place. Somewhere that the grass is greener, the animals are more humane, ans somewhere that the quality of life is much better. I then slept till the dying sun started to approach midday the next morning.

The cold metal doors were rolled back as I stumbled up the steps ready for another day at work. I passed junk yard after junk yard of heaps of rubbish, with the occasional sight of a child scavenging through the messy heaps looking for any scrap metal that they may be able to sell or trade. As messy as they may look though they were mainly organised pieces of rubbish now, generations having already searched through them. I arrived at the biggest mountain of stuff in the whole country I had ever been to, and met by the usual meeting point beside a pile of decaying blue plastic bags. The stench, unbearable, forced its way in through my nostrils, I tried to restrain but the smell just kicked its way into my nose. Here I saw our other men, pale yellow skin, standing over the grey rubbish, and dark gloomy clouds, brown with the fumes of pollution. They were not the prettiest bunch ever but like all of us we all needed work. We scavenged off the crash site that was the dump, I assumed something large had crash landed here at one point, the mess of materials from the machine spread out across the site, burnt and charred from the wreck. Perched everywhere were birds waiting to pounce.

We started our day of labour putting all thoughts out of our mind, all exept for the thought that one day, maybe soon the world would become better again and that we would have food to allow us to survive, that we could find that evening when we had finished the day. If we were lucky…

Jul 2 2013

Other idea for dystopian novel

My initial idea for my dystopian novel was not a very good one in my opinion, so I have a new idea. There has been a scare around for a long time that if the bottom of the food chain were to become extinct the other animals would also die. This is what gave me the idea for my story: the seas have become so polluted that fish can no longer survive, this leads to other animals dying. The human race has become extremely unhealthy, and selective breeding has come into place, so people who are unhealthy are discriminated, so that they will end up dying. But this means a lot of cross breeding ends up taking place…

Jun 18 2013

Planning: writing in the style of John Whyndham

The style that he writes in:
-first person
-letting you know what is is happening while the main character doesn’t
-the way he writes reflects the age of the character
-he talks in the past and reflects his past youth
-he writes In a dystopian style

Writing in a dystopian style:
-to write like this- finding a thing people either take for granted or think nobody could live without. -> ideas: nobody allowed to communicate with anybody else and are not allowed to leave the place that they were born (no migration, with all Internet and phones scanned for traces of trying to escape).

Plot: before this happens there is a family,and one of their parents has gone away to another country for work, and ends up stranded, not able to communicate. The government has put these rules in place, to supposedly stop the problems of terrorism, and illegal migration. But this means that no country will let people into the country, so one of the parents cannot get back…

May 31 2013

Drama- silent film script

Hi guys I will not be there on the day of performance, so Arthur will have to take the place I was practicing last week.
Bruke – criminal
Arthur – policeman
Meshach – shop keeper

Begins with:
meshach robbed by Arthur – arthur tries to catch him but instead catches bruke.
bruke chases arthur with meshach following behind. get to a pillar, do the look around pillar scene with mechach pointing out. bruke goes round back and the everyone starts to congo. arthur realises who he is but bruke grabs him and starts to dance with him.

May 16 2013

Chrysalids: Uncle Axel’s journey

When I was younger I used to pretend to be an explorer. I would dream of discovery, of lands far and shining, waiting for them to be found. It was much doubted by everyone else that these far lands existed, but to me there were as real as the problems that faced my family everyday. People wanted to find more land, food, and a new place to start again. So the logical solution for was to discover a new place all together, investigated or even another place habited!

The first people set out early in the year, people waving there goodbyes, and wishing them farewell. I was only 8 years at the time and so I had a growing curiosity of the world and so asked many questions about where they were going, what they would find and so forth. For the Elders, who everyone knew had the wisdom, the places where they where going to were inhabitable and had no interest to such a man willing to seek his fortune somewhere else, but could not describe what it was actually like. So when I told them I wanted to find out what it was like, all my father did was refuse, and that was that. There was No use arguing with my father, I always lost, usually ending with me locked inside my room and not allowed to go out and play for a few days.

It was only when I had come of the age of fourteen that I dared to try again. I could not stand to just wait around all day doing normal jobs, I wanted to discover. “Axel you may not leave,” my father said,” there are things out there that you don’t know of, you may be possessed by the Blasphemies”. There was much alarm about blasphemies recently as a few months earlier the number of them increased dramatically, people believing that they might overtake the human race and repopulate the earth with their devilish nature. My brother told me “Axel if you leave you will be completely consumed and will not realize that they are wrong and become one of them.” Nobody wanted me to go. I took my chances and hired out a boat with money I had, and did not come back till years later…