Star Wars Episode IX: Revenge of the Jedi

About the Author

     Hello, my name is Matthew Christopher Martin. I never got to properly introduce myself. My purpose for writing this seemingly Historic piece of literature was to Enlighten Mankind. More specifically The United States of America. How? By ridiculing society in an ironic way through a form of writing known as Satire. As long as you learned something and are influenced to be a better person then I did my job.

I am from San Jose, California. I was born on January 22, 1996 in Good Samaritan Hospital. A few unfortunate events occurred along the way. 9/11 is obvious. Another, I broke my arm when I was 8. I was also cursed enough to see U.S. soldiers kill innocent civilians in Iraq around the five or six o'clock nightly news on NBC. It was during the Iraqi War that followed after 9/11. They year was 2004, maybe in February, I asked my Mom along the lines of, "Why are we killing people driving by?" She replied, "They're the bad guys." They didn't look like bad guys to me.

Keep in mind, most of them were just driving by in cars, and our soldiers were hitting a red button, igniting mines in road. Then what the soldiers did next was unforgettable. Just in case kids were watching, they had a nice cartoon to show us how they raided a building and killed everyone inside. The remaining soldiers stayed by the road and continued to blow up cars as innocent people drove by.

We were winning the War alright. But were we really? Next time, we shouldn't have to win a war at the cost of losing everything that we were before then. Just a thought from a guy who was 8 at the time. I have yet to find news coverage from that night anywhere online. I wonder why? Thank You George W. Bush for that wonderful memory.

I have some pretty shitty memories from my childhood as well. I was bullied at Del Roble Elementary School between Kindergarten through Fourth Grade. My Mother was a smoker. In Second Grade I learned that smoking was bad for you and that it could kill you. So, I asked my Mom to quit smoking. I was surprised she tried to willingly quit on spot. I don't know what made her quit so easily or if I even made an impact in her decision making.

The worst part is she got sick after that. I know she had a little bit of lung cancer, but it was mostly brain tumors and like Alzheimer's. She did her best to live out her remaining years and wanted me and my sister to experience a Cruise Ship and Disney Land before she would die. I don't know what my dad did to pay for both trips, but its was before the Recession of 08'. My mother died on April 18, 2006. Her last words to me were on April 17, which were, "I love you," and she pulled me closer and said, "Watch out for Satan." Those were her last words to me. My life soon changed after that.

I ended up having to leave that miserable school of Del Roble after that year and thought my life would take a fun turn. We ended up moving to Morgan Hill, California. That's where my aunts, uncles, and cousins lived. I thought everything was going to be better. I went to St. Catherine's where my cousin's attended, and I thought it would be fun. It was a Catholic School. My first day of school was in Fifth Grade. I had Mrs. Quinn.

Very early on in the school year, I learned she was crazy. It was September 11th, 2006. I was on the 5th Year Anniversary of 9/11. My question was along the lines of, "How do we know the people on the plane even came from where we say they did?" I had no idea what a conspiracy theory was at the time. I just thought it was a valid question because we weren't on it. She proceeded to say, "We just do." She went on talking about her memories from it. I didn't care. She held a news paper article in her hand, and it had a burning American Flag on it. She seemed happy teaching us about. I wasn't convinced what she was saying was true. Keep in mind what I had previously seen when I was 8.

I kept asking questions about 9/11. The Towers, the planes, the wars etc.... It was enough to make Mrs. Quinn snap. I can not recall the specific question that made her go ballistic, but she essentially went off on me. Poor 10-year-old me. I misunderstood a key concept about school. That was, if you don't understand something, ask questions. Boy did Mrs. Quinn hate questions. Her face got red, she yelled/raised her voice, and her glasses almost fell off. I locked eyes with a kid named Franke, and I could tell, he and I were both saying, "what the freak," in our minds. I was so scared, I forgot what my question even was. I wasn't conforming properly, clearly. She proceeded to make my life a living hell, at a Catholic School where we are supposed to learn about God. I was clearly on her bad side, and what ever meter she had for it, I shattered it by a few light years.