Thursday, October 31, 2002

Democracy at it’s Finest

Over the past ten years, almost 400 journalist and photographers have been killed on the line of duty. They never get the respect they deserve and the paparatsi journalist and photographers who are never in any danger get all the praise from the public. These men and women are documenting world changing events and we the public cannot keep our eyes off of the enquirer and Antonio Banderas’ homosexuality and who he was seen with at the beach. I found this image on On the home page under gut shot gallery, picture number six. It was a feature about photojournalist who were in the line of fire. The photojournalist who was at Iwo Jima when the Marines Corps put up the American flag and similar events in different places of the world during conflicts, wars, disasters, ect…. I chose this image because I feel it really grabs you when you look at it. It is proof that a picture can shape public opinion and be more interesting than a shot of Eminem going into a courtroom for a assault case. The man getting hit and covered in blood is the vice presidential candidate, Guillermo Ford, whose party won the election, but the Current president of Nicaragua, Manuel Noriega, decided to nullify the election and have another party win. The people of Nicaragua began to riot soon after the election, and the photojournalist who took the picture said “I stepped up to take a photo and a man behind me politely said ‘Excuse me,’ stepped around, and took a swing at Ford with an iron pipe.” After Ford was hit a couple of times the soldier who is in the top right of the picture and saw the whole assault arrested the now even more bloody Ford.
This picture was taken by a New York journalist on his first risky assignment in 1989. It attracts me because there is blood and someone getting hit with an iron rod. I wonder why the man hitting Ford isn’t going after the soldier, this is a riot. Doesn't the public usually go after the established government not the party trying to change the government? The election should not have been made public if they did not want any other parties to win. That is how they do it in the Democracy of Cuba. No one can run against the established Fidel Castro and he always wins by a land slide. The picture makes you think that no matter how bad the Los Angles riots were, no vice-presidential candidate was covered in blood, beat up, and then arrested.
I hope one day we can respect the work of men and women who risk their lives to give us an awesome conversation piece in a magazine on our coffee table. Maxim took the time and money to put the photo-journalist story in their magazine. Why don’t we forget about the lives of stars and famous people?
the next entry is a rewrite of the first one I think it is alot better than the first one. read it !
The Longest Trip
The buzzing of his alarm clock awakens Sam. Out of one eye he notices his father standing in the doorway asking him to move the truck that is blocking him in out of the way. “I thought Lisa left already.” Still asleep Sam moves Lisa’s truck. When Sam makes it back to his room he wakes up Lisa. “What the hell are you doing still here?” Sam asks. “I must have fallen asleep.” Lisa replies. “That’s crap, this is the third time you’ve done this to me. You must want me to get caught. Who is it going to be your dad again or Jill?” “You brought this on yourself!” Lisa shouts. “You know your father has already gone after me with a gun, do you want to see me dead?” Lisa is silent, as she gets dressed. Before Lisa slams the back door shut, she declares, “You are going ho have to make a choice, me or her!” Sam pays no mind and goes back to bed.
On the other side of town, Jill is working hard in her mother’s kitchen. Sam is going away on vacation in two days and she promised him that she would make his last week here be the best ever. The oven timer goes off, Jill’s breakfast brownies are done. “Mom I’m taking your Suburban to Sam’s house.” Jill screams across the house while running out the front door. She hopes the brownies will stay warm all the way to Sam’s house. Just like any other drive when you are in a rush, every possible streetlight is of course red, and the train tracks that are never used are packed with the slowest possible trains. After what seems like an eternity Jill arrives at Sam’s house. Rushes inside grabs a cup of milk and runs to his room.
Sam notices his door opening slowly. “I thought I told you . . .” his greeting shocks Jill. “Hey baby” Sam tries again. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” The guilt shows with every word. “I told you, your last week here would be special,” Jill answers as she places the breakfast in bed tray on Sam’s bed. “Did you sleep well? You look tired.” Jill begins the conversation. “Dad woke me up when he left to work, he wants me to clean up my room and cut the lawn.” Sam sharply states. As Sam enjoys the fresh brownies Jill picks up Sam’s dirty clothes. Jill completely cleans Sam’s room, takes away the breakfast in bed tray, and goes back to Sam’s room to lie down beside him. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Realizing they are alone, they get the day started the way any young couple would start the day. After the best fifteen minutes of the morning is over, Sam rolls over and puts on some clothes to go out and take care of the lawn. Jill stays in bed, wondering about the empty condom wrapper she found while she was cleaning up the room. Jill has the whole day planned so she isn’t going to let this little thing ruin their last two days together. She hops in the shower and by the time Sam finishes the lawn she is out letting him take one himself.
They are off to the mall to find Sam some swimming trunks. After the mall they are off to Papadeaux for lunch. Lunch was great and Jill planned a movie for 3:00. On the way to the movie Jill notices someone following them. “Who is that girl following us?” Jill asks Sam. “I have no idea,” Sam says as he feels the inevitable coming. “It looks like she wants me to pull over, should I?” Jill asks. Sam doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Jill pulls into an empty Wal-Mart parking lot. A pissed off Lisa pulls Jill out of the front seat and begins to throw punches in every direction. Jill is a little more disciplined and lands the three punches that she throws. Like a man Jill grabs Lisa in a headlock and begins to uppercut her attacker. All this happened in the same amount of time that it took Sam to make it from around the suburban. Sam breaks them up and the fight is over. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam screams to Lisa. “You know this little girl, Sam” Jill asks Sam. “Tell her who I am Sam! Tell her who spent the night at your house last night.” A beat up and bloody Lisa yells proudly. “Is this true . . . Sam, is it true?” Jill asks. Sam has nowhere to hide and now is the moment he was hoping he would never have to face. Lisa blurts out “Well Sam what is it going to be, you’re caught. Why don’t you tell Jill what you promised me yesterday?” “What did you promise her you bastard?” Jill in tears asks Sam who still hasn’t said a word. Sam breaks the silence “Well, honey what happened was.” A punch to the mouth shut Sam up. “You know what screw you, you bastard and as for you, you skank you can have this limp little five minute man!” Flipping the bird as her tires squealed out of the parking lot. Sam looks at Lisa as she gets in her car. “Hey, do you think you could give me a lift?” Sam asks Lisa right before she slaps his already bruised face. Sam is stranded in the Wal-Mart parking lot. With no other way home he begins the five-mile walk to his house. Halfway home he notices Jill’s suburban slowing down behind him. Jill lowers the window and throws out Sam’s new trunks while yelling “here are your trunks, it would have been nice if you could have filled them up!” Walking with bag in hand and a broken spirit another vehicle pulls up behind him. The noise of the exhaust system identifies the truck as Lisa’s dad. The truck accelerates and Sam sprints off to the open lot on the side of the road. Sam looks back and sees Lisa’s dad in hunting clothes with the look of haven drank beer on his face following him into the pasture. There is nowhere to hide and Sam is already tired from the three-mile walk. The truck is coming closer and closer. Sam dives in a puddle of mud; a second later the truck drives over him. Luckily Sam is okay, he gets up and notices Lisa’s dad turning around to finish the job. Sam runs to the slightly wooded area lining the pasture. He is safe from the truck now, but not safe from the words of Lisa’s dad “Get back here you little shit, I’ll kill you! If I ever find out you were anywhere near my daughter you’re dead. Hear me boy?”
Muddy, wet and scared to death Sam is almost home. His friend Chris greets him when he arrives to his house at 8:00. “Man I just heard what happened, I never thought Jill would dump you.” Chris starts saying. “What were you doing with Lisa you already knew she was trouble when she tried to get herself pregnant by poking holes in your condom.” Sam has nothing to answer. “Look man, Lisa’s dad tried to kill me today on the way home from getting stranded.” Sam confesses. Sam is quiet for a minute thinking, ”hey, who told you what happened? Nobody who you talk to knows other than Jill.” Chris can see the anger building in Sam’s eyes. ”What are you doing talking to my girl punk?” Sam asks. “Screw you, Sam she isn’t your girl anymore! She’s my girl!” Sam out of rage tackles Chris, his former best friend. They roll around the floor of the garage until Sam manages to grab a baseball and hits Chris on the side of the head. With Chris still on the floor Sam kicks Chris until he stops moving. When Sam starts to walk inside the crack of a bat to the side of his leg stops Sam in his tracks. “Look man, what happened to you? You once were cool. Now you’re just a washed up player who just got his ass kicked”
The morning came without a trace of brownies. No phone calls and no one to talk to. Sam had to pack his bags by himself. Jill was not there to do his chores like she usually was. “Why did this have to happen to me, I shouldn’t have even gotten up yesterday.” Sam thought to himself packing his last bag with his mud stained new trunks.
Sam left his room with his phone hoping he would get a call from Jill to wish him well, but the more he hesitated the more painful the thought that she wouldn’t call became. Sam rode away from his house staring down the road that he walked down two days before. That five-mile walk made his vacation a gift instead of a sad goodbye.