Pointless

So I just did a dumb little ACT prep test in my AP English Class. As juniors (mind you, I'm a senior), we all took the actual ACT last year, I think in May. I made a 31, which is pretty freaking high. Like, top 10% nationally high. And all the people in my AP English class, I feel, are that smart. So why, then, do they waste our time making us redo these things. This would have been wonderful...as 10th or 11th graders. Not when it's too late. It's just pointless (that goes out to my buddy Dylan).

On Those Connecticut Shootings

It's horrible. Absolutely, 100% terrible. Stuff like this should not happen, especially in a country where even the poorest among us can get access to the basic necessities of life. As many, if not all, of you are aware, there was a shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut on Friday. The shooter just busted into the school and shot, and killed, 20-some people. I'm not going to question the guy's motives on this, because I don't know what would drive a man to slaughter children. I don't think I want to know what would drive a man to do this. But I will say something. The media is focusing on all the wrong aspects of the shootings. They continually talk about the shooter and how this is supposed to be a reason to restrict gun rights in America. They neglect to talk about how one teacher hid her children in closets and cabinets and took a bullet to save them. They don't focus on the heroes of this shooting, they just focus on the negative. This is, perhaps, the greatest damage done from this shooting, that we won't remember the heroes who protected all but 20 some people that day. I'm all for remembering these children, and I think that we should, 100%. But we should also definitely remember those who prevented the 20 some number from being 200 some.
***Also, just as a note, restricting gun rights helps no one but the criminals. I'd rather have people who are armed, trained, and willing to protect the innocent have guns than have people without these resources trying to prevent a shooting.***

Olympic Willpower

I saw a video while back of an Olympic 400 meter dash. One of the guys, who was actually favored to win, tore his hamstring halfway through and fell over in agony. Fighting through the pain, he continues on to finish his dash...with the help of his father who came out to help him up. At the very end, he leaves his dad and hobbles over the finish line.
I know I did a poor job of telling the story, but it was seriously heart touching and inspirational. And I also thought it did a wonderful job of showing, not only what will power can accomplish, but also the loving bond present in a family, and what that love can drive us to do. In my opinion, love is the force that changes the world. Not necessarily love of each other, though that is the best form, but material or spiritual loves as well. This love can help you create great things, but also destroy things. If the story of the Trojan War could teach you one thing, its that us men go to stupid lengths for love.
Thanks for reading, have a splendid day!

My Day

So. Today, I participated in a local parade. I do a couple of these every year, always for my AFJROTC unit. I always command it. Today, we switched things up. Firstly, a bunch of people didn't show up, so I had to take over in the middle of the parade all by my lonesome (usually there are three people up at the very front where I was, and I would command the majority of the people in the ROTC part of the parade and scream my head off and call out little military rhymes called jodies.). THAT was interesting. Also, I got a sword to play with during the parade. First time we've ever done that (and yes, i'm aware of the irony that they gave ME a sharp object after my knife incident.) So, not only was I all alone at the front of the parade, I had a freaking sword. And I also suffer from terrible stage fright. That was fun. I think I turned even whiter in the face if that's possible. But I did just fine. Afterwards, I talked to the mayor for a while, laughed, and went out to Zaxby's to eat, still in my ROTC uniform. I go order my food, then go to sit down. Some random lady taps me on the shoulder and says "Thank you." I got confused for a second, then realized what she was talking about. I tell her I'm not actually serving yet, I'm just in ROTC, and she said "Oh. Well, still, thank you." That just touched my heart. I'm so glad that there are people out there who, not only see what the military does for the country, but appreciate it enough to say thank you, and stick by it just because I'm going to eventually go serve. It's people like that that makes this country awesome, and it's people like that that make me want to go serve. I know it's not a big thing, but it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like puppies and stuff.

What I Do When No One's Home

Go to Zune. Open up my playlist of 597 songs, including such artists as Dave Matthews, Jerry Garcia, Black Crowes, Joss Stone, Johnny Cash, and so so so SO much more (I appreciate my music). And, of course, Flogging Molly. If you are unaware who they are, please do yourself a favor and listen to them. It's like Irish Punk music almost. Amazing. Then I proceed to dance everywhere I go. I just got finished jigging. I'll go set some food in the oven, forget to take it out and eat some slightly overcooked pizza, then continue dancing or whatever strikes my fancy. After a while, I'll get confused why my ankle is starting to hurt (probably because I'm dancing and jigging with the swagger of a cripple) and go sit down on the computer for a while. I'll probably wind up getting on Facebook and Twitter, and now my blog. That is what my Friday night consists of when I have nothing to do. Because I am such a freaking cool cat like that.

My Rambling Introduction

So lets start out with the name of the blog. I get it from that one Beck song, "Loser." I'm not actually a loser, but I sure do tease myself and everyone about me being one. By the way, my name's Ryan Quinn Mach. No jokes about the middle name, please. The middle name comes from my parent's at a Grateful Dead Concert. But I digress. I'm trying to get into Harvard, even though I go to a school in the middle of nowhere, I'm "that guy" that you love to tease (and, admittedly, I do stuff that's tease worthy), I try to be a bit of sunshine for everyone, and I have a story about EVERYTHING! Let me start out with this one: my ankle story. Two years ago, I would have been a sophomore in high school, I was playing football for the Burns Bulldogs. It was my birthday, and I was playing a JV game. They sent me in to play linebacker for the first time ever during the game (I used to play O-Line and D-Line), and I kind of dominated. I was supposed to go on to play Varsity ball later that year. Anyway, after I went home, I was opening up all my presents with my new Smith & Wesson pocket knife (It's really sharp apparently!), and I managed to cut my ankle. Severed an artery, came ***this*** close to severing my Achille's, all sorts of badness. Clearly, I lived. But I didn't get back to football again. But that's ok! Because instead I went to go into ROTC, and I'm now in charge of our local program. And everyone lived happily ever after. That's just one story by the way. More to come, I assure you :)