Dear President Barack Obama,
After working hard myself as a Young Liberal at Charlottesville High School I am naturally, very excited about your future term in the Oval Office. I phone banked, wandered house to house vouching for you to unsure voters and taken place in fundraisers all for you. However, with this dedication come expectations. With your time in office I wish that you work your hardest in the following fields:
1) The Economy
2) The War in Iraq
3) Public Education
With the shattered Economy that the US has at the moment you have the opportunity to rebuild it. What is left to lose? It is your job to make sure that we make smart decisions in economic policy. History proves that people are greedy and will take advantage of any slack that the government gives them money wise and so you must have the back bone to regulate the market the appropriate amount. Set up more generous welfare systems but keep high standards in poor communities so that the individuals do not become lazy and use the government as a crutch. We cannot afford to take shortcuts, do what is best for the long hall. It is your duty to set up the foundation for a better America and a better future. Our economy is greatly affected by our budget decisions; one huge issue that impacts our economy is the war in Iraq.
Our current war in Iraq is a very delicate situation, both in Iraq and on the home front. The decisions you will be forced to make will surely not please everyone, you might not be able to please anyone at all. The liberals are expecting you to pull out of the war almost as soon as you come into power. This cannot happen for it will take a very long time to undo our military involvement there. The republicans surely will not be happy with anything that you do unless you give them more tax breaks. They are relatively hopeless to please on the subject of the war because they have no real arguments to begin with, just bitterness. Mr. President, you have got to make up a plan that will get us out Iraq as soon as possible, but with the most responsibility and the least damage. Sorry to disappoint but I have no brilliant ideas for you. The Onion was right when they said “Black man gets worst job in the country” as headline.
With such programs like No Child Left behind our nation’s public schools have been rewarding mediocrity and discouraging creativity and “out of the box” thinking. Standardized testing not only takes the focus away from learning but takes the joy out of learning. If a school fails its SOL’s (Virginia’s standardized test) it loses its credits which mean the government no longer funds the school. This is the very OPPOSITE that should be happening. The school obviously needs more help and the students deserve better from their government. With your time in office you should eliminate No Child Left Behind and put in place an educational system that only sets high standards but helps out the schools that are struggling. Put more money into the arts at schools. Without art, kid’s minds would have nowhere go where they could rest. A little bit of creativity in schools goes a long way and refreshes the mind.
Good Luck.
With Respect,
William Toler Marsh from Charlottesville, Virginia
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Dear Kerouac draft 2
Dear Mr. Jack Kerouac,
You have been named “The King of the Beats” and so before even opening my first Kerouac book I was excited. I had no idea what a beat was or how to be the king of one but I was excited. My expectations were never left unfulfilled. As I turned the first page open eagerly I was instantly intrigued by the frank but detailed language. That first page was a fine cocktail of dry humor, longing and pure bitter-sweet composure. Everything about “On the Road” engaged me.
The motif of freedom and restlessness spoke to me, a bored teenage boy. What could be greater than leaving all responsibility behind you and seeing the world with your best friends? In the midst of the glorious 1950’s where “The American Dream” conquered the minds of the masses your character, Sal, decided that he frankly didn’t give a damn. He rejected the ideals of society at the time which was to acquire a huge monstrosity of a house in the suburbs, settle down with your beautiful blond wife and father several happy white children. Sal joined the hobos, the socialists and the bohemians with pride. But enough about Sal, I admire YOU, Jack Kerouac.
My admiration for you comes from my love of all that is indie. You, the founding father of “The Beat Generation”, have inspired me as a writer and I would imagine that you were good friends with Bob Dylan himself. If you were a folk singer I would buy every album promptly in vinyl form. That’s just how dedicated I am to you. I could only imagine that you lived a lifestyle similar to Sal’s and yet you say “I am no beatnik. I am a Catholic”. I don’t know of many devout Catholic Benzedrine junkies. You wrote “On The Road” in twenty days while high on speed the whole time. Although it did inspire masterpieces of literature such a crazy lifestyle was ultimately your downfall. “It’s better to burn out then to fade away. The king is gone but he’s not forgotten” says Neil Young, but dying of cirrhosis at the age of forty-seven does not seem quite as glorious. Where else could you get such substance and detail in your stories if not real life? Do words simply flow from your mind to the paper without troubles or do you strain over every inch of ink? I struggle with these things daily with my own writing. Your masterpieces are almost discouraging to me. I’ll never be as great as you and I often wonder what the point is. Is that a silly thing to think? It must be. I’d imagine that you need someone to pass the baton to and I’m right here. I hope you don’t mind passing some wisdom to me as well as the baton because I sure can’t do it on my own. I’m assuming that is where the Benzedrine comes into play... that was a joke.
Sincerely,
William Toler Marsh
You have been named “The King of the Beats” and so before even opening my first Kerouac book I was excited. I had no idea what a beat was or how to be the king of one but I was excited. My expectations were never left unfulfilled. As I turned the first page open eagerly I was instantly intrigued by the frank but detailed language. That first page was a fine cocktail of dry humor, longing and pure bitter-sweet composure. Everything about “On the Road” engaged me.
The motif of freedom and restlessness spoke to me, a bored teenage boy. What could be greater than leaving all responsibility behind you and seeing the world with your best friends? In the midst of the glorious 1950’s where “The American Dream” conquered the minds of the masses your character, Sal, decided that he frankly didn’t give a damn. He rejected the ideals of society at the time which was to acquire a huge monstrosity of a house in the suburbs, settle down with your beautiful blond wife and father several happy white children. Sal joined the hobos, the socialists and the bohemians with pride. But enough about Sal, I admire YOU, Jack Kerouac.
My admiration for you comes from my love of all that is indie. You, the founding father of “The Beat Generation”, have inspired me as a writer and I would imagine that you were good friends with Bob Dylan himself. If you were a folk singer I would buy every album promptly in vinyl form. That’s just how dedicated I am to you. I could only imagine that you lived a lifestyle similar to Sal’s and yet you say “I am no beatnik. I am a Catholic”. I don’t know of many devout Catholic Benzedrine junkies. You wrote “On The Road” in twenty days while high on speed the whole time. Although it did inspire masterpieces of literature such a crazy lifestyle was ultimately your downfall. “It’s better to burn out then to fade away. The king is gone but he’s not forgotten” says Neil Young, but dying of cirrhosis at the age of forty-seven does not seem quite as glorious. Where else could you get such substance and detail in your stories if not real life? Do words simply flow from your mind to the paper without troubles or do you strain over every inch of ink? I struggle with these things daily with my own writing. Your masterpieces are almost discouraging to me. I’ll never be as great as you and I often wonder what the point is. Is that a silly thing to think? It must be. I’d imagine that you need someone to pass the baton to and I’m right here. I hope you don’t mind passing some wisdom to me as well as the baton because I sure can’t do it on my own. I’m assuming that is where the Benzedrine comes into play... that was a joke.
Sincerely,
William Toler Marsh
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Dear Mr. Jack Kerouac
Dear Mr. Jack Kerouac,
Before even starting to read your book “On the Road” I was immediately struck by your name. Just the fact that your first and last name rhymed made me think of you in a greater esteem. A man with such a name must be some great poet, philosopher or at least a talented novelist. My expectations were never left unfulfilled. As I turned the first page open eagerly I was instantly intrigued by the frank but detailed language. That first page was a fine cocktail of dry humor, longing and pure bitter-sweet composure. Everything about “On the Road” engaged me.
The motif of freedom and restlessness spoke to me, the bored teenage boy. What could be greater than leaving all responsibility behind you and seeing the world with your best friends? In the midst of the glorious 1950’s where “The American Dream” conquered the minds of the masses your character, Sal, decided that he frankly didn’t give a damn. He rejected the ideals of society at the time; acquire a huge monstrosity of a house in the suburbs, settle down with your beautiful blond wife and father several happy white children. Sal joined the hobos, the socialists and the bohemians with pride. But enough about Sal, I admire YOU, Jack Kerouac.
My admiration for you comes from my love of all that is indie. You, the founding father of “The Beat Generation”, have inspired me as a writer and I would imagine that you were good friends with Bob Dylan himself. If you were a folk singer I would buy every album promptly in vinyl form even IF that was more expensive than CD. That’s just how dedicated I am to you. I could only imagine that you lived a lifestyle similar to Sal’s. Where else could you get such substance and detail in your stories? Do words simply flow from your mind to the paper without troubles or do you strain over every inch of ink? I struggle with these things daily with my own writing. Your masterpieces are almost discouraging to me. I’ll never be as great as you and I often what the point is. Is that a silly thing to think? It must be. I’d imagine that you need someone to pass the baton to and I’m right here. I hope you don’t mind passing some wisdom to me as well as the baton because I sure can’t do it on my own.
I want people to think of me and say “Man, he sure is going to do great things. He doesn’t even seem to try. He sleeps in class and everything. How is he so doggone brilliant if he sleeps in class?”. I’m quite POSITIVE you slept in class too. I bet you didn’t even go to college. Who needs college when you’ve got the whole world to teach you? I don’t see the point of sitting in some seminar in a steamy university building when you could be burning through Joshua Tree with folk rock on the radio and windows down. There is more inspiration and soul in the deserts of ole California then any smug college town. I still have one more question: do you wear flannel?
Sincerely,
William Toler Marsh
Before even starting to read your book “On the Road” I was immediately struck by your name. Just the fact that your first and last name rhymed made me think of you in a greater esteem. A man with such a name must be some great poet, philosopher or at least a talented novelist. My expectations were never left unfulfilled. As I turned the first page open eagerly I was instantly intrigued by the frank but detailed language. That first page was a fine cocktail of dry humor, longing and pure bitter-sweet composure. Everything about “On the Road” engaged me.
The motif of freedom and restlessness spoke to me, the bored teenage boy. What could be greater than leaving all responsibility behind you and seeing the world with your best friends? In the midst of the glorious 1950’s where “The American Dream” conquered the minds of the masses your character, Sal, decided that he frankly didn’t give a damn. He rejected the ideals of society at the time; acquire a huge monstrosity of a house in the suburbs, settle down with your beautiful blond wife and father several happy white children. Sal joined the hobos, the socialists and the bohemians with pride. But enough about Sal, I admire YOU, Jack Kerouac.
My admiration for you comes from my love of all that is indie. You, the founding father of “The Beat Generation”, have inspired me as a writer and I would imagine that you were good friends with Bob Dylan himself. If you were a folk singer I would buy every album promptly in vinyl form even IF that was more expensive than CD. That’s just how dedicated I am to you. I could only imagine that you lived a lifestyle similar to Sal’s. Where else could you get such substance and detail in your stories? Do words simply flow from your mind to the paper without troubles or do you strain over every inch of ink? I struggle with these things daily with my own writing. Your masterpieces are almost discouraging to me. I’ll never be as great as you and I often what the point is. Is that a silly thing to think? It must be. I’d imagine that you need someone to pass the baton to and I’m right here. I hope you don’t mind passing some wisdom to me as well as the baton because I sure can’t do it on my own.
I want people to think of me and say “Man, he sure is going to do great things. He doesn’t even seem to try. He sleeps in class and everything. How is he so doggone brilliant if he sleeps in class?”. I’m quite POSITIVE you slept in class too. I bet you didn’t even go to college. Who needs college when you’ve got the whole world to teach you? I don’t see the point of sitting in some seminar in a steamy university building when you could be burning through Joshua Tree with folk rock on the radio and windows down. There is more inspiration and soul in the deserts of ole California then any smug college town. I still have one more question: do you wear flannel?
Sincerely,
William Toler Marsh
Thursday, October 30, 2008
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