Daves Cooks the Turkey..

The main character, Dave, In Stuart McLean's short story, "Dave Cooks the Turkey", is put in charge of "looking after the turkey" to make Christmas stress free and fun again for his wife. Little did Dave know that "looking after the turkey [...] meant buying it as well as putting it in the oven." Some of the humor in this short story in created using exaggerations. When Dave couldn't find a turkey in either freezer he "unloaded both freezers to be sure." After pouring himself some scotch and pacing around the kitchen worrying Dave called himself a taxi. "At 4:00 am, with the help of a taxi driver named Mohamed, Dave found an open store" and bought himself a grade B turkey. At the time he hadn't a clue what grade B meant but it was the least of his worries, it was the last turkey in the only open store on Christmas eve. He returned home and set out to prepare the turkey as it defrosted "it became clear what grade B meant. [...] Dave's turkey looked like it had made a break from the slaughter house and dragged itself a block or two before it was captured and beaten to death." The story begins to get out of hand as Dave pours himself another scotch, starts referring to the bird as Butch, and then discovers a lock on his stove. Dave then goes to a hotel, checks in, and asks them to cook the turkey for him. This short story does a very good job of using exaggerations to create humor and teaches Dave to never underestimate the obligation of cooking the Christmas turkey.

Certain experiences mark the beggining of maturity.

Certain things happen that mark the beginning of maturity. For some, maturity comes smoothly, but others encounter circumstances that thrust them into maturity. I was an individual who wasn't given a chance to mature naturally. My mother was diagnosed with cancer when I was a mere eight years old. The cancer spread fast and developed tumors in her brain. She didn't have a fleeting chance.

Now, you think that being only eight years old I wouldn't know enough about what was going on around me to be faced with the repercussions. My father would have stepped up and been strong for all of us. But with the lose of my mother, the love of his life, my father quickly fell to pieces. He was an early bird who started sleeping in till noon. He no longer ran each morning as he had in the past and my father left my mothers stuff in the closet for years.

I had a little sister, 5 years old, wondering "When is mommy coming home from her business trip?" I became a mother to my sister and a shoulder for my father. When I was eleven we started going to therapy. Though no one was fooled, my father did his best to pretend everything was perfect. Without a true mother figure my sister became a manipulative brat. She stormed around and made her demands. Dad became her victim, letting her do as she pleased.

After some time had past my dad continued on with most of his fatherly duties. I took over as many roles as I could. My roles grew as I did. I got my sister ready in the mornings and to bed at night when I was too little to help with much else. By the time I was driving I had a part-time job, and had practically raised my sister. I took her where she needed to go, packed her lunch, I did the laundry, and I cooked when I was home. With all of this and my schoolwork you can imagine I wasn't someone who had a very large social circle. I had more responsibilities and felt older than anyone I knew.

I matured at a very young age. For most, maturity is marked by new responsibilities such as getting your drivers license at age sixteen, graduating from high school at age eighteen, or moving away to university at age nineteen. But for me, maturity was marked by the lose of my mother at age eight.

The resolution: An increase in profanity is indicative of a decline in society's morals.

Affirmative Side
There is a direct correlation between profanity and morals. Foul language is rude, disrespectful to those around you, and shows a sense of carelessness. According to wikipedia.com, "morality means a code of conduct or a set of beliefs distinguishing between right and wrong behaviors." If your using profanity you are exhibiting wrong moral behavior. The more swearing is accepted on television, in schools and all other aspects of our day to day lives the more our morals decline. If improper language becomes 'the norm' then what was once considered 'wrong moral behaviour' becomes 'right moral behavior' and if wrong becomes right then I don't see how anyone could argue profanity to not be proof of our decline in morals. Profanity is also associated with hate and anger. Any basic moral code does not encourage a wild show of anger in public or society. In the past, one was to remain calm and speak about their issues in a respectful way but as time changes and morals decline simple conflicts are blow out of proportion and profane words are often of choice while arguing. It is evident that society's moral declines are indicative of profane language.

Negative Side
Profanity is simply another form of speech. It is a way of expression and feeling. There is no tie between profanity and morals. Language has evolved as time has passed and the standards have changed for much more than just the words we use. Society's morals are more greatly effected by the lack of responsibility placed on youth today. Punishments have become much less harsh and second chances are given out like hard candy at a parade. People can get away with more and something that would have been considered immoral and punishable by law simply becomes a slap on the wrist. The decline in morals is not indicative of profane language it is a direct reverberation of the constant negation of crime and punishment.

I'm worthy.

I have scaled mountains with no ropes, dropped from planes with no parachute, and ran marathons with no shoes. I cook the perfect boiled egg, both hard and soft, no timer required. I have been recruited by the coast guard, when they found themselves unable to complete their mission. I'm known to sculpt better than Michelangelo and rap superior to Snoop. I build houses for the needy in my spare time and calligraphy is just one of my many talents. I am a yoga master, bending into pretzels with ease. I happen to be one of the last teens surviving day to day life without a cellular device. My humor is capable of making even the strongest willed British guard keel over in laughter. Although it is against my morals, I have gone completely undetected swiping ninja's wallets, robing casino's vaults, and extracting teeth's gold fillings. I've drank from the milky way. I've parted seas.
But I have not yet gone to university.

Uncle Paul.

A sharp rap rap rap on the solid wood door startles me. I get goosebumps as I walk warily to see what monstrosity awaits. I peer through the peep hole only to find a man, small in stature though evidently powerful. He has a sneer on his lips and the look of constant disapproval stained in the wrinkles of his face. The smoke from his cigar lingers briefly beneath the rim on his hat, dancing out with each chance. A shadow makes his eyes dark and furious. I allow him to enter.
As I turned to close the door I become aware of a second person. To my complete shock it's my aunt. But what could she be doing with such a ghoulish looking man?

Forsaken.

Not daring to be the one who chickens out first, we walk warily up the path to the abandoned mansion. Staying close together, flinching and cursing beneath our breath as the lifeless trees lean in the wind. Not one of us says a thing, but we all wonder who's great idea it was to spend the night in this place so void of human existence. We make our way to the bottom of the porch steps just as a black cat crosses our path. Brushing it off as coincidence we continue forward, no need to open the door as it does so itself. The house seems to have been abandoned while under construction, the floor creaks causing me to lurch forward right under a ladder. Terrified and certain that I am now cursed I turn to my friend, shes no white as a ghost and shaking in her boots. With my tail between my legs I sprint from this damned old house knocking things over like a bull in a china shop. With no sign of my friends following I figure them left for dead.

Telepathic Fish

Imagine a power so incredible, so strong, so beneficial that you don't even have to move to use it. Without asking a question you could get your answer. You would never have to wonder, "Is this the truth?" You could win over anyone with this power.
The power of telepathy opens many doors. Your classes would be a breeze. We all know that Mr. Van Camp is thinking of his ideal response when askind for the word that best decribes him. You could get on a teachers good side within minutes, getting away with virtually anything. Just think, you've been pulled over for speeding and the officer is thinking about writing you a ticket. With the ability to get in his mind you'd be apable of saying the right thing to sway him into letting you off with a warning. So many things could be accomplished in a much simpler manner with the power of telepathy. If given the choice, telepathy would get my vote!