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Recently on the “Anomalies” Klat blog I posted an article entitled “To the time out room,” a succinct reminiscence of a place once located inside Southwood Elementary in Bloomington, Minnesota when it played host to a pilot program named Family Focus in the 1980s.   Targeted at special needs students, these kinds of school rooms have been defended in some circles as providing a means to protect staff and students. It is not just my opinion but bitter personal experience that leads me to believe they must be banned instead.

As I noted in my post to “Anomalies,” Family Focus had a four-step disciplinary program.   If you crossed the line in class, you got a “reminder;” if you crossed it a second time you got a “check mark;” if you crossed it a third time, you got stuck into a cubbyhole equipped with a hard plastic chair where a timer was placed before you set for either three or five minutes. If you crossed the line after that treatment,  it was off to the “time out room.”

The “time out room” was located in a converted classroom located at the head of the T-shaped hallway system in the building.   It was filled with more cubbyholes equipped with hard plastic chairs as well as their heaviest artillery: two cubbyholes with narrow rectangular windows which you would get locked into for the same amount of time as in the cubbyholes.

Did I ever wind up in one of those cubbyholes or booths because my behavior threatened myself or others?  No!  Not once was I banging my head on my desk, trying to cut myself, or seeking to attack somebody.  

In my “Anomalies” post I wrote that I got into trouble because I had (and still have) a hard time with strict rules and was in general rebellious over having to be at Family Focus, but that is a generalization. The nitty gritty facts as to why I would get into trouble stemmed from frequent outburst of crying when I was frustrated, scared, or just plain overloaded. I got no sympathy, even from my counselor, one Thomas Cook. All they wanted me to do was shut up and conform, and whenever I wouldn’t, the vicious cycle of reminder, check mark, time out, and getting hauled off down the hall would revolve again and again.   

The memories that linger aren’t pleasant. The most unpleasant of the bunch is the day that I stood before a man seated at the desk by the time out room door. He had curly black hair and wore dress pants, a white shirt, and a black tie. I still remember with extreme distaste how he looked at me with stern eyes and asked an equally stern voice “Are you ready to go to the film festival?” To which I replied in a trembling voice “What?” as I recoiled inwardly at the very thought of having to attend yet another school activity with the power to send me into sensory overload thanks to the kids and adults almost always whooping with laughter at whatever flick was playing and tearing the heck out of my concentration in the process. My memory is dim, but I do believe his words set off a wild round of crying and agitation from me, though I can’t remember if I was punished or got dragged to the classroom showing the movie.  

At best that man had looked at me like I was some kind of troublemaker, or a wild animal at worst. Regardless, wherever he is now … well, I don’t send him my regards because I think he ought to be ashamed of the way he treated me, because I am not a wild animal but a human being!

Some of my memories from when they would shove me into one of the booths are downright surreal. I remember once defacing the wall of one of those with my spit because I had nothing else to do as I resisted whatever they were forcing on me that day; another time I actually slept in that hellish contraption until a boy locked up in the other booth began calling my name. The staff quickly quashed our attempts at conversation like we were prisoners in a cell block.  

All the times I got hauled down the hall to that room severely taxed me both emotionally and physically. While the punishments they meted out did not break me because I am stubborn to the core of my very being, the sensation of being helplessly hauled off by force despite my desperate attempts to break the grip of the teacher’s assistant hauling me down there ultimately inflicted emotional harm. In fact that experience, coupled with the fact that my father as an abusive bully, gave rise to two great emotions within as I grew older: a deep sense of being unable to protect myself from anyone or anything, and a deep sense of mistrust in other people which helped stunt friendships.    

Call them what you will: “seclusion room,” “time out room,” whatever. Based upon my own experience and what I have read of others, I believe they must be banned from all schools both public and private. They are little better than what you would find in jail, or a POW camp, and contribute nothing to the growth and development of our children because they are a legal form of child abuse.

It’s been on the market for a while now, but to me it’s a new discovery - The Walking Dead video game.  With the new season of the television series just arrived I decided I had to try this out and see what the hype was.  Turns out I was not disappointed, as this $25 game runs pretty much just like a season of the series, except you get to make the decisions on how the story pans out.

Released in late April, there are eventually going to be five chapters to the game.  The $25 covers them all, however, so you don’t have to worry about paying more for additional content.  They were supposed to be released one every month, or thereabouts, but considering that the fourth installment just finally came out a few weeks ago, it’s looking more like an episode every few months.  I’m guessing the last one should be here late November or at least sometime before Christmas.

In The Walking Dead, you play a character by the name of Lee.  When the story begins, he’s on his way to prison for murdering a senator that he found out was sleeping with his wife.  Lucky for Lee, the zombie apocalypse is on the way, so there’s no prison stay for him.  The clumsy officer driving the car slams into a walker and runs off the road, freeing Lee to go find his own way amid the carnage and chaos.

As the game moves from chapter to chapter, Lee finds allies, loses allies and all the while must look out for a small girl named Clementine.  He gets put into a leadership position (in contention with some other characters) and what you decide as a player determines, several times, who lives and who dies.

Most of the game is played through a simple walk-around-and-look-for-crap format.  Action uses a reticle system whereby you have to aim at whatever you want to interact with, whether it be a weapon to pick up or a zombie to kick in the head.  Every time the action gets heated, the game will tell you to wail on a button over and over until you manage to accomplish whatever task you’re attempting to perform.  Conversation and social interaction takes place throughout the story and what you say will have an effect on whether characters like or dislike you, for the most part (some will always like you and others hate you forever).

Every once in a while, you’ll have to make a decision on whether to save one character or another, both of whom are in peril from the walker menace.  Which person you save sometimes determines which characters will be present through later scenes in the game.  Some people, however, are destined to death and there’s simply no way to keep them alive.

The game feels very organic, has amazing stylized art and is very fun to play through, initially.  Unfortunately, there is almost no replayability.  It is like watching a season of The Walking Dead, in that when you go back again, it’s almost the exact same thing.  Even the decision to save one person over another is a purely superficial element and has no effect on the game other than who you get to talk to.  I was pretty disappointed by this when I went to try it a second time to see if the story would change or not.  The game is about as linear as they get.  Whether this holds up at the very end of the fifth and final chapter remains to be seen.  The game creators might, if they feel like messing with us, make all the decisions of the game add up to one of a number of endings.  I dunno if that would alleviate the linear feel or make it more frustrating in that you’d have to play through an almost exact same progression just to see a different ending because you made one different decision.

Aside from this major flaw, it’s still worth the $25 if only for the new Walking Dead story.  It’s very engaging, dark and morbid, and the characters are rich and believable.  More than once I found myself hating one person or getting really upset that someone had died.  If you have the spare cash and about six hours to kill, it’s worth a play-through.  Personally, I’d suggest finding someone you know who already has it, since once you’ve won you’re not likely to go back and play it again.

Cat lovers, this story is for you. This week, a 17-year-old kitty named Tiki Bear was rescued from his owner's burning home in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The firemen at the scene bravely fought the blaze, and they still took the time to get this lucky cat out.

Yes, this is great news, but why do I think it's so important? I'll tell you why: Anyone who owns pets needs to have a special sticker or sign on their doors, to let firefighters know they're inside.Two years ago, a close friend of our family had a devastating house fire. He and his wife lost everything they owned in a matter of minutes. The blaze, which broke out at 4 a.m.., started with an electrical problem in one of their cars. It took seconds to ignite the garage, and then the whole home. Thankfully, smoke detectors alerted our friend and they got out in time.

They got out, and then realized that their two cats were still inside. I don't have to tell you, pet lovers, how devastated they were. There is good news: They had a little sticker inside their door, letting firefighters know there were two cats inside. Both were rescued!

I'll get off my soapbox now, but really, make sure you have some way of letting rescue crews know you have pets. It can make all the difference.

Back to Tiki Bear: Dave Adams and his wife's historic home suffered a lot of damage, but firefighters managed to get the elderly cat outside. He was given oxygen and thankfully, he began to breathe! A vet checked Tiki Bear out for smoke inhalation. The sweet kitty is still in intensive care, but she's alive. A special Facebook page was set up to help the owners pay for all of Tiki's medical care, too.

Get well soon, Tiki Bear!

When we left off last week on The Walking Dead, Rick and the gang had a few problems to deal with.  While clearing out a cell block of the prison they’d taken, the group ended up being chased into a corner by a horde of walkers.  Hershel was bitten and, as a result, Rick had solved that dilemma by hacking half his leg off and praying that the infection wouldn’t take.  In addition, five new potential members of the group showed up in the form of some prisoners that had been trapped in the prison cafeteria during the early stages of the zombie uprising.

Rick and the crew ignore the prisoners at first, instead choosing to rush Hershel back to safety.  This is despite the fact that one of them (the apparent leader) is training a gun on them.  We can see right here just how bad-ass the group has become.  They know they can take care of the confused prisoners in a heartbeat if needed and have no reserve about potentially losing someone should a conflict arise.  They’ve seen many of their friends die at this point and someone getting shot is just par for the course.

After getting Hershel to safety, Rick has a talk with the prisoners, trying to figure out what’s best for his group.  The subject of killing them outright comes up a few times, and Rick is now to a point where that is a completely viable option.  Mercy has left the man and most of the members of the group are right there with him.  They finally decide on making a deal with the five prisoners - they get half the food in the cafeteria in exchange for letting the prisoners set up shop in another cell-block.

The combined party makes its way into the other cell block to clear it out, the prisoners showing just how unskilled they are and Rick and company demonstrating once again that taking out walkers is now second nature.  The simple clean-and-sweep turns into a mess when the leader of the prisoners tries to take Rick out in the middle of the chaos.  But Rick survives and, in what has to be one of the most brutal scenes in the entire series, makes sure that such a betrayal will never happen again.

It’s this episode that truly shows the amount of change the group has gone through since we last saw them in season 2.  There is no more mercy and very little compromise.  Everyone thinks quick and acts quicker, a well-oiled machine.  Each person has their place and they look out for each other without a second thought.  If viewers thought Shane was bad in the last season, they have a surprise for them, cause Rick and several of the crew are now much worse than he ever was.

I’m very happy at the way the series has been developing so far.  They’ve dragged the characters down into the depths of their own bestial natures, showing what happens when human beings are forced to face life-and-death situations nearly every day of their lives.  Whether some of them will remain with a bit of their humanity intact or perhaps come back from where they’ve settled remains to be seen.

Next week promises some very interesting developments, as the Governor shows up and Michonne and Andrea finally get some air time.  Until then readers, keep your basement well-stocked with food and weapons, just in case the zombies come to your neighborhood.