Well, obviously.

Jim Crow laws. 1880s through the 1960s.

They make perfect sense to me.

Clearly, colored people in this time period were deemed 'inferior' for good reason. Though that reason is kind of unclear to me, it must have been excellent, because of all the laws that limited African Americans.


Textbooks: Books shall not be interchangeable between the white and colored schools, but shall be continued to be used by the race first using them.
Oh of course. This should be a no-brainer. Obviously children in grade school should not only be split up because of skin color, go to different schools, but their textbooks should carefully be kept within their own race.

But wait, what if a child is half-white and half-black? What does that child do?

No worries, no worries, the Jim Crow laws took care of that too!


Intermarriage: The marriage of a person of Caucasian blood with a Negro, Mongolian, Malay, or Hindu shall be null and void. (Arizona)

Intermarriage: All marriages between a white person and a Negro person or between a white person and a person of Negro descent to the fourth generation inclusive, are hereby forever prohibited. (Florida)


Intermarriage: It shall be unlawful for a white person to marry anyone except a white person. Any marriage in violation of this section shall be void.


Intermarriage: All marriages between . white persons and Negroes or white persons and Mongolians... are prohibited and declared absolutely void... . No person having one-eighth part or more of Negro blood shall be permitted to marry any white person, nor shall any white person be permitted to marry any Negro or person having one-eighth part or more of Negro blood. (Missouri)


Intermarriage: All marriages of white persons with Negroes, Mulattos, Mongolians, or Malaya hereafter contracted in the state of Wyoming are and shall be illegal and void. (Wyoming)
I'm glad they decided to be extremely specific, and to go as far to say if one has "one-eighth part or more of Negro blood" that that marriage will be null and void. Does that mean if a person has one-sixteenth Negro blood, that marriage would be accepted? Also...would anyone even be able to tell if someone is one-eighth black? Hm. Interesting thought.


Circus Tickets: All circuses, shows and tent exhibitions, to which the attendance of.more than one race is invited or expected to attend shall provide for the convenience of its patrons not less than two ticket offices with individual sellers, and not less than two entrances to the said performance, with individual ticket takers and receivers, and in the case of outside or tent performances, the said ticket offices shall not be less than twenty-five feet (25) apart. (Louisiana)
This law is my personal favorite. Circus tickets? Wow. Whoever made up these rules was very clearly thoughtful. I can just see a stuffy, wrinkly old man in horn rimmed glasses hunched over his paper. He's tapping his chin and furrowing his brow, thinking "Did I miss anything?" And he thinks, oh! I forgot to mention circuses. He also remembers to mention theaters, baseball, and juvenile delinquents. How very thoughtful.


Obviously, these laws aren't enforced nowadays. It's too bad, right? After all that time and effort they put in to restrict many, many people from having basic human rights? Too bad...

The Never Ending Chocolate Bar.

Eggs.

This is definitely the most straightforward title for a short story I have ever read. 

I won't lie, this brings back memories of a story I had written when I was in the fourth grade, and I was certain that I could get it published and be rich and famous. 

I had typed up the story "The Never Ending Chocolate Bar" (Or should I say *THE NEVER ENDING CHOCOLATE BAR*?) on the computer for the first time, so I thought myself to be pretty tech savvy already. The words had seemed to just be flowing out at rapid 20 wpm speed (look at those fourth grader fingers go, am I right?) 

The story itself had been what I wished would happened to me upon entering a candy shop. The little girl went in to buy a normal chocolate bar, but the man behind the counter suggested that she give $5 for this special candy bar, and she'd never have to pay for another one again.

Pretty cool. 

It's weird to think about that now, just as William Kennedy said in his short story. Just like his mom, both my parents praised my story and said it was really good, and I glowed with pride. 

Every couple of days I find this story that I printed out of the computer, and it gives me a chuckle at the hope I had had as a 9 year old.

Imagination.

For fun, I searched google images for "imagination" and got this. I quite like it.

Also, I just realized people are going to think my url means "fat imagination" at first rather than a clever combination of my name and the word imagination. Lame.

Why I Write.

Why do I write?

It's a strange question to ask yourself.

You never really think about why. You just kind of do it. You write because you have to, for school, for work, or for anything else. You may write because you just feel like it, as in a journal.

Why do I write?

I write because it helps me get my frustration out. Too many times it's been the case that I have frustration, anxiety, and general feelings of being upset built up inside of me, and I feel if I don't get them written down in a ranting sort of letter, I'll explode. I like to write these feelings, because obviously people get tired of hearing it all the time. My notebook and pencil never get tired of me.

I write because I can. I can write about whatever I want to. I can visit anyplace I want, do anything I please when I write. It's just a nice escape from reality.

I write because I want to improve. That's the only way it can be done, right?

Frustration.

Don't you hate when you want to know what you want to write, but you jsut don't know how to start it?

You know exactly how the rest of your is going to work out, it's already a masterpiece in your mind, but you just can't seem to figure out how to "hook" your reader from that first sentence so they keep reading your work.

Also, the blinking cursor is pretty daunting the way it just sits there and blinks, as though with each passing second it's judging you for your lack of productivity.

Grr.

Inaugural Post.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my very first post on my brand new blog.

I know this may be obvious, and I don't want to insult your intelligence by saying it like that. Saying it that way makes the thought more apparent in my head that this is the post that will introduce my blog. The one that all you potential followers will read and judge, to see if my blog is worthy of your interest.

I hope it is.

I'm guessing it'll be a lot of ranting, because like most high school seniors, that's what I do best.

Let's see where this goes.