A riveting tale of friendship, suspense, and total and complete lunacy. Michael Benanti's Award-Winning Novel, There Will Be Printers is adapted to film in a revolutionary and enthralling portrayal of one man's journey to inform is friend of his forgotten item. Printers, hatred, and wallets abound in this incredible film.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Something Indigenous to Springfield
There are a lot of things that are indigenous to Springfield. Also, there are a lot of points where I will be saying indigenous. It is now my goal by the end of this post to learn how to spell "indigenous". Yes, indeed, Springfield is home to many things that you can't find anywhere else! Such as... horseshoes, and... and... Blacksheep! and, uh... Abraham Lincoln, though I guess he was in Washington D.C. for quite a while during his presidency, but still...
Well, there's an idea! I'm sure everyone is talking about horseshoes on their blog. To be quite honest, I don't even like horseshoes. Yeah, I like cheeseburgers and I like fries, but I don't like cheese fries and I don't like burgers without two buns, so it's not a good combination. I never have liked horseshoes, and I just found out this year! that they're indigenous to Springfield. Yeah, go figure. Because of this disconcerting fact, I will go on to talk about Blacksheep.
Actually, I don't much like Blacksheep,either, but I like it more than horseshoes. Blacksheep, to me, feels like a bit of a cultural revolution for Springfieldians. There's never really been a hangout spot before Blacksheep where people could go and listen to music and hang out... Though there's not much space to hang out in in Blacksheep, and you can't really talk, considering the music is blaringly loud. So really, it's just a place to listen to music in. Also, I don't like the music that plays there, granted I went on a horrible night. It was packed and most every band was emo-screamo-metal, or something or other. I got a headache.
Seriously, though, you can't find Blacksheep anywhere else. Sure, every city probably has their own little place like that, but it feels incredibly different to have a place like that in Springfield. I know there used to be some place near 125. They'd have music and fun stuff to do in there, but that was back when I was in 5th grade, so I don't remember the name. We need the Emporium from Dazed and Confused! Matthew McConaughey would so be there!
Well, there's an idea! I'm sure everyone is talking about horseshoes on their blog. To be quite honest, I don't even like horseshoes. Yeah, I like cheeseburgers and I like fries, but I don't like cheese fries and I don't like burgers without two buns, so it's not a good combination. I never have liked horseshoes, and I just found out this year! that they're indigenous to Springfield. Yeah, go figure. Because of this disconcerting fact, I will go on to talk about Blacksheep.
Actually, I don't much like Blacksheep,either, but I like it more than horseshoes. Blacksheep, to me, feels like a bit of a cultural revolution for Springfieldians. There's never really been a hangout spot before Blacksheep where people could go and listen to music and hang out... Though there's not much space to hang out in in Blacksheep, and you can't really talk, considering the music is blaringly loud. So really, it's just a place to listen to music in. Also, I don't like the music that plays there, granted I went on a horrible night. It was packed and most every band was emo-screamo-metal, or something or other. I got a headache.
Seriously, though, you can't find Blacksheep anywhere else. Sure, every city probably has their own little place like that, but it feels incredibly different to have a place like that in Springfield. I know there used to be some place near 125. They'd have music and fun stuff to do in there, but that was back when I was in 5th grade, so I don't remember the name. We need the Emporium from Dazed and Confused! Matthew McConaughey would so be there!
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Red Badge of Courage, Chapters 1 to 8
The Red Badge of Courage, by Stephen Crane, is not a very good book. It may be praised by a lot of people and called a classic, but I don't really think it's much of classic material. Indeed, it's pretty low on the classic scale, in my opinion. Then again, what do I know? I'm just a high school student. I'm stupid and ignorant and completely oblivious of what is right and wrong. Thusly, there's no possible way that I'm right about anything! What am I talking about, again?
Oh, yeah, the chapters. While the novel incorporates its own individual qualities, it greatly represents those of the Realism period: The here-and-now aspect; less religious and paranormal aspects, more of the real and true; and the deeper look into the psychological aspect of the individual's mind. As the novel starts off, it seems less concerned with Henry's (the main character) enlistment in the army, and more concerned about the psychological ordeal he will have to suffer through.
As the novel progresses, the reader learns of Henry's ultimate fear: When the time comes to truly fight, will he stay, or will he run? To help validate his opinion, he does what any other person would do: He bases his decision around the decisions of an entire group. When he learns of the mens' disposition, he decides that, if they run, so shall he. Because of this, it creates a certain turmoil within him; he has a want to fight and continue onward, but his fear and cowardice are the true driving forces of his enrollment, not his innermost desires. Crane presents an idea unlike any other: Is the human desire to truly want more powerful than the primal instinct of fear?
To Henry, these desires are able to play out for one battle, but upon seeing a multitude of other men flee, he himself retreats as well. This psychological diversion from the battlefield to complete solitude and safety is directly contrasting to the outside forces, yet corresponding to the entire feel of Henry's character--he is driven by wants, but instead acts on cowardice and fear. These final emotions are what drive the entirety of the novel from beginning to end.
Oh, yeah, the chapters. While the novel incorporates its own individual qualities, it greatly represents those of the Realism period: The here-and-now aspect; less religious and paranormal aspects, more of the real and true; and the deeper look into the psychological aspect of the individual's mind. As the novel starts off, it seems less concerned with Henry's (the main character) enlistment in the army, and more concerned about the psychological ordeal he will have to suffer through.
As the novel progresses, the reader learns of Henry's ultimate fear: When the time comes to truly fight, will he stay, or will he run? To help validate his opinion, he does what any other person would do: He bases his decision around the decisions of an entire group. When he learns of the mens' disposition, he decides that, if they run, so shall he. Because of this, it creates a certain turmoil within him; he has a want to fight and continue onward, but his fear and cowardice are the true driving forces of his enrollment, not his innermost desires. Crane presents an idea unlike any other: Is the human desire to truly want more powerful than the primal instinct of fear?
To Henry, these desires are able to play out for one battle, but upon seeing a multitude of other men flee, he himself retreats as well. This psychological diversion from the battlefield to complete solitude and safety is directly contrasting to the outside forces, yet corresponding to the entire feel of Henry's character--he is driven by wants, but instead acts on cowardice and fear. These final emotions are what drive the entirety of the novel from beginning to end.
Veterans Day Field Trip
What is there to say about the Veterans Day field trip? I'll say this: I just recently learned that the correct grammatical way of spelling Veterans Day is not Veteran's Day, but Veterans Day, minus the apostrophe. Incredible, isn't it? You learn something new every day, I tell you. It's curious.
Anyhow, the field was, all-in-all, a pretty good success. I was surprised at how well the whole school (or my group, anyways) behaved, as well as the respect most everyone showed towards the military as well as at the cemetery. Now that I can praise the rest of the school for that, there's not much else I can say about everything.
The most exciting portion? I would say the military base. Why wouldn't it be, though? I got to play with (unloaded) guns and night vision, as well as climb around inside a, what, five million dollar military vehicle? If someone doesn't enjoy that, then something is incredibly wrong with them, I'm sorry! I got to see bullets that were about four inches long and I held a gun that was bigger than my torso.
Moving along, the memorial was cool, it had interesting stuff and was well-designed. The Air Force and Fire Department place was incredibly boring and not fun. I didn't learn much of anything, and I got lectured by a man saying how we should stay in Iraq. I did not like this place.
The Camp Butler Cemetery was much better. I thought some people could be a bit more respectful, but otherwise, I was enamored by the entire situation. It struck me in some way that I didn't think I'd be struck. It was a pretty good experience.
Anyhow, the field was, all-in-all, a pretty good success. I was surprised at how well the whole school (or my group, anyways) behaved, as well as the respect most everyone showed towards the military as well as at the cemetery. Now that I can praise the rest of the school for that, there's not much else I can say about everything.
The most exciting portion? I would say the military base. Why wouldn't it be, though? I got to play with (unloaded) guns and night vision, as well as climb around inside a, what, five million dollar military vehicle? If someone doesn't enjoy that, then something is incredibly wrong with them, I'm sorry! I got to see bullets that were about four inches long and I held a gun that was bigger than my torso.
Moving along, the memorial was cool, it had interesting stuff and was well-designed. The Air Force and Fire Department place was incredibly boring and not fun. I didn't learn much of anything, and I got lectured by a man saying how we should stay in Iraq. I did not like this place.
The Camp Butler Cemetery was much better. I thought some people could be a bit more respectful, but otherwise, I was enamored by the entire situation. It struck me in some way that I didn't think I'd be struck. It was a pretty good experience.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Realistic Dreams
Realistic dreams are pretty crazy, I have to tell you. As a matter of fact, they scare me. I'm not sure what to believe when I have a realistic dream. I'll think one thing, but it ends up being another. How am I supposed to know if this one thing will be real or if another will in fact be real? I'm not sure! Realistically, it's easy to figure out what is reality and what is not. Actually, it's very easy. I'm not arguing what's easy and what's not, though. The question of what is real and what's not is not up for debate! At least, not in this case. There are many philosophical ideas that could dismiss the idea that reality is reality. This doesn't matter, though! What matters is that I had a realistic dream once.
I was in second grade or something like that, I don't know. I had a dream that I died and that the elementary school was heaven! My family was there, too, because they died, apparently. I was sad and all freaking out, but it doesn't matter, because I was dead too. I walked around this apparent heaven and kind of chilled for a while. Needless to say, when I woke up I was incredibly scared. I kind of ambled about with an increasing idea of despair and sadness, feeling as though my life was fake and that I was actually dead. I had this feeling persist for hours on end as I pondered my predicament constantly throughout the entirety of this ordeal. Nevertheless, I came to the conclusion that I was, in fact, alive.
Am I alive now, though? That's the question. Maybe this is all a dream, and I'm really just in the middle of dying, like that one dude in An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, by Ambrose Bierce.
That would suck.
I was in second grade or something like that, I don't know. I had a dream that I died and that the elementary school was heaven! My family was there, too, because they died, apparently. I was sad and all freaking out, but it doesn't matter, because I was dead too. I walked around this apparent heaven and kind of chilled for a while. Needless to say, when I woke up I was incredibly scared. I kind of ambled about with an increasing idea of despair and sadness, feeling as though my life was fake and that I was actually dead. I had this feeling persist for hours on end as I pondered my predicament constantly throughout the entirety of this ordeal. Nevertheless, I came to the conclusion that I was, in fact, alive.
Am I alive now, though? That's the question. Maybe this is all a dream, and I'm really just in the middle of dying, like that one dude in An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, by Ambrose Bierce.
That would suck.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Favorite Tall Tale
As I sit here with a tongue burning due to Nerds and I wait on a video converter to install, I feel as though I should reflect on my favorite tall tale. What do any of these things have in common? Well, there's one thing: They have nothing in common, so by having nothing in common, they--in turn--have indeed something in common. Fascinating, huh? Not really.
Regardless, my favorite tall tale... Well god, I'm not sure. How am I supposed to? I don't even like tall tales, much less have a favorite of them! But I guess if I had to choose, it'd be Paul Bunyan. Why? Well Paul Bunyan is freaking Paul Bunyan. 100 feet tall, big, burly, strong--bearded! What more could a dude ask for? Sure, if you're a sissy you would deny the manly awesomeness of Paul Bunyan, but let's face it: No man, regardless of his masculinity, can deny Paul Bunyan.
Now, Johnny Appleseed? Hell yes, a guy could deny him! He was a wimp, walking around just planting apple trees. Paul Bunyan chopped down Johnny's little apple trees, that's what he did! And then right after, he and that bull went and kicked some ass elsewhere. Johnny was the olden times hippie; Paul Bunyan was an old school badBUTT. There's no other way to put it!
In lieu of these points, Paul Bunyan was still a cool tall tale. Okay, I can't stop myself; he made a bull out of a mountain, his axe, and pure testosterone! What the hell?! How could he not be the coolest person in the history of the world? You tell me, you honestly tell me how he is a wussy, and I will tell you that you are the greatest person ever.
Regardless, my favorite tall tale... Well god, I'm not sure. How am I supposed to? I don't even like tall tales, much less have a favorite of them! But I guess if I had to choose, it'd be Paul Bunyan. Why? Well Paul Bunyan is freaking Paul Bunyan. 100 feet tall, big, burly, strong--bearded! What more could a dude ask for? Sure, if you're a sissy you would deny the manly awesomeness of Paul Bunyan, but let's face it: No man, regardless of his masculinity, can deny Paul Bunyan.
Now, Johnny Appleseed? Hell yes, a guy could deny him! He was a wimp, walking around just planting apple trees. Paul Bunyan chopped down Johnny's little apple trees, that's what he did! And then right after, he and that bull went and kicked some ass elsewhere. Johnny was the olden times hippie; Paul Bunyan was an old school badBUTT. There's no other way to put it!
In lieu of these points, Paul Bunyan was still a cool tall tale. Okay, I can't stop myself; he made a bull out of a mountain, his axe, and pure testosterone! What the hell?! How could he not be the coolest person in the history of the world? You tell me, you honestly tell me how he is a wussy, and I will tell you that you are the greatest person ever.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Vengeance
Why is vengeance always considered such a bad thing? Vengeance is a natural reaction to a bad situation, and it's something that is completely natural. I'm sorry if this seems a bit overboard in comparison, but a homosexual person isn't wrong for being attracted to the same sex, it's just natural! So why is it wrong to feel compelled to give another person what they deserve? Of course vengeance can go too far, and a person's obsession with it could cause him or her to become severely psychologically disassociated with reality, causing a mental breakdown which could lead to effects of psychosis or other fun stuff (well, rarely, I guess).
Regardless, I feel as though vengeance is a good thing. Yes, it's good to forgive and forget; don't get all worked up over someone saying a rude comment to you, just let that go. Why give a damn about it if the hurt will just dissipate within a few minutes?* Such a lust for vengeance isn't worth it, in this situation. It's unfounded, obsessive, and all-around idiotic. Just because someone said you were ugly or have bad breath or some other such insult doesn't mean you need to dump pig blood on them, causing them to go all telekinetic on your ass. I'm looking at you, Carrie.**
But if the person truly hurt you? What if they harmed you in some irreparable way? Is it justified then? The line, at this point, begins to be blurred. What is right and what is wrong is, in some way, fallible. Is there such a thing as a moral and ethical choice in vengeance? I don't believe so. Vengeance is not about right or wrong, it is about justice. Just doesn't cater to right or wrong, it caters only to what is justified. Vengeance, in this respect, is indeed justified. What happens because of vengeance is where the negative portrayal of it in the media is founded. The ramifications, physically and emotionally, could be vast.
Vengeance, however, is not a toy to play around with, it is an aspect of one's life that is completely separate from the rest. Its origins are burrowed deep within the recesses of your mind, mimicking and following your patterns as if it is your puppet. These memories fuel vengeance, but they are not vengeance. Vengeance is an aspect of lust; a type of lecherous want that caters to all emotions--sadness, anger, happiness, etc. Vengeance, then, could be seen as a psychological drug that is used as a way of getting an ultimate high; so many emotions bursting forth through one act, one pursuit, one quest, these are what define vengeance, and what ultimately define its conclusion.
Take the Asian film, Oldboy, for example.
Before I continue, this will contain key plot points in this film, so if for some reason you want to see this incredible film (and I highly suggest you do), then skip over this section.
In the film, Oh Dae-Su, a father and husband, is imprisoned in a room for 15 years with no explanation or means of escape. Finally, he is inexplicably released. Upon his release, he vows to find the man who committed this crime and exact his revenge.
Is this vengeance unfounded? No, of course not. Indeed, it is more than understandable; after being locked in a room for 15 years, I'd want to maul the person that did it to death, too! But let's read on...
After he is released back into the world, he meets a woman by the name of Mi-Do. She invites him into her house and the two go on a quest to find the man, whose name is Woo-Jin. Upon finally finding and confronting him, however, Oh Dae-Su decides not to kill him in order to find out why he was imprisoned.
This is understandable as well. No matter how much we are under the influence of vengeance, that quest for knowledge and insatiable appetite for truth will always gnaw at the back of our minds.
Oh Dae-Su figures it out, though he loses an old friend in the process. He was imprisoned because he inadvertently spread a rumor in high school that Woo-Jin committed incest with his sister, which was in this case actually true. Due to this rumor, his sister ended up committing suicide.
Well that sucks, doesn't it? Oh Dae-Su didn't actually mean to spread such a rumor, regardless of its truth, and his sister's suicide was purely coincidental. At least the motive is finally discovered! Well, let's continue...
After this revelation, Oh Dae-Su and Mi-Do confess their love for each other and have sex. Oh Dae-Su confronts Woo-Jin, and this is where things get interesting... This is where the greatest twist in film history is revealed. Oh Dae-Su's daughter was secretly raised by Woo-Jin during this 15-year period of imprisonment. Both Oh Dae-Su and his daughter, who is actually Mi-Do were hypnotized into following a series of commands that would end up with them falling in love with each other. In the end, Woo-Jin forced an unknowing Oh Dae-Su and his daughter into committing incest together.
Worse comes to worse, Oh Dae-Su ends up being the one begging for forgiveness, with a laughing Woo-Jin watching in amusement. He cuts off his tongue as a sign of silence, and Woo-Jin agrees to not tell Mi-Do the truth. Here's the kicker, though: Oh Dae-Su has his memory erased of all the events surrounding the past 15 years of his life, and then reunites with Mi-Do in a passionate, loving embrace.
The end.
So what could we learn from this film? Not that vengeance is wrong, but that vengeance can have unknown consequences, and that one should exercise caution when commencing such a trek. It also teaches us to check our girl/boyfriend's birth certificate before you decide to go any further than a hug...
Regardless, I feel as though vengeance is a good thing. Yes, it's good to forgive and forget; don't get all worked up over someone saying a rude comment to you, just let that go. Why give a damn about it if the hurt will just dissipate within a few minutes?* Such a lust for vengeance isn't worth it, in this situation. It's unfounded, obsessive, and all-around idiotic. Just because someone said you were ugly or have bad breath or some other such insult doesn't mean you need to dump pig blood on them, causing them to go all telekinetic on your ass. I'm looking at you, Carrie.**
But if the person truly hurt you? What if they harmed you in some irreparable way? Is it justified then? The line, at this point, begins to be blurred. What is right and what is wrong is, in some way, fallible. Is there such a thing as a moral and ethical choice in vengeance? I don't believe so. Vengeance is not about right or wrong, it is about justice. Just doesn't cater to right or wrong, it caters only to what is justified. Vengeance, in this respect, is indeed justified. What happens because of vengeance is where the negative portrayal of it in the media is founded. The ramifications, physically and emotionally, could be vast.
Vengeance, however, is not a toy to play around with, it is an aspect of one's life that is completely separate from the rest. Its origins are burrowed deep within the recesses of your mind, mimicking and following your patterns as if it is your puppet. These memories fuel vengeance, but they are not vengeance. Vengeance is an aspect of lust; a type of lecherous want that caters to all emotions--sadness, anger, happiness, etc. Vengeance, then, could be seen as a psychological drug that is used as a way of getting an ultimate high; so many emotions bursting forth through one act, one pursuit, one quest, these are what define vengeance, and what ultimately define its conclusion.
Take the Asian film, Oldboy, for example.
Before I continue, this will contain key plot points in this film, so if for some reason you want to see this incredible film (and I highly suggest you do), then skip over this section.
In the film, Oh Dae-Su, a father and husband, is imprisoned in a room for 15 years with no explanation or means of escape. Finally, he is inexplicably released. Upon his release, he vows to find the man who committed this crime and exact his revenge.
Is this vengeance unfounded? No, of course not. Indeed, it is more than understandable; after being locked in a room for 15 years, I'd want to maul the person that did it to death, too! But let's read on...
After he is released back into the world, he meets a woman by the name of Mi-Do. She invites him into her house and the two go on a quest to find the man, whose name is Woo-Jin. Upon finally finding and confronting him, however, Oh Dae-Su decides not to kill him in order to find out why he was imprisoned.
This is understandable as well. No matter how much we are under the influence of vengeance, that quest for knowledge and insatiable appetite for truth will always gnaw at the back of our minds.
Oh Dae-Su figures it out, though he loses an old friend in the process. He was imprisoned because he inadvertently spread a rumor in high school that Woo-Jin committed incest with his sister, which was in this case actually true. Due to this rumor, his sister ended up committing suicide.
Well that sucks, doesn't it? Oh Dae-Su didn't actually mean to spread such a rumor, regardless of its truth, and his sister's suicide was purely coincidental. At least the motive is finally discovered! Well, let's continue...
After this revelation, Oh Dae-Su and Mi-Do confess their love for each other and have sex. Oh Dae-Su confronts Woo-Jin, and this is where things get interesting... This is where the greatest twist in film history is revealed. Oh Dae-Su's daughter was secretly raised by Woo-Jin during this 15-year period of imprisonment. Both Oh Dae-Su and his daughter, who is actually Mi-Do were hypnotized into following a series of commands that would end up with them falling in love with each other. In the end, Woo-Jin forced an unknowing Oh Dae-Su and his daughter into committing incest together.
Worse comes to worse, Oh Dae-Su ends up being the one begging for forgiveness, with a laughing Woo-Jin watching in amusement. He cuts off his tongue as a sign of silence, and Woo-Jin agrees to not tell Mi-Do the truth. Here's the kicker, though: Oh Dae-Su has his memory erased of all the events surrounding the past 15 years of his life, and then reunites with Mi-Do in a passionate, loving embrace.
The end.
So what could we learn from this film? Not that vengeance is wrong, but that vengeance can have unknown consequences, and that one should exercise caution when commencing such a trek. It also teaches us to check our girl/boyfriend's birth certificate before you decide to go any further than a hug...
Monday, November 9, 2009
My Biggest Fear
Ah, fears. That psychological phenomenon that I've never been able to defeat. It's impossible to think you'll never be afraid. Honestly, I still get spooked when I'm in the dark, feeling as though some killer will pop up out of nowhere and kill me. I don't believe in ghosts, and even when I'm alone, I'll feel like something like that will happen. Then again, there's more than just those types of fears. There's fears for the future; fears of death, heights, speed, there are so many fears that anyone can have.
My biggest fear, though, that's hard to pinpoint. I could say death, but I've sort of gotten over that. I could say heights, but I'm not too afraid of those. I would have to say my biggest fear is being in a situation where every person you've ever cared about and loved completely abandons you and knowingly betrays you. I feel like the pain would be so unimaginable that--well, I guess I don't really want to try and think of it. I get dramatic a lot, don't I? I can think of it, and I have. I just know it'd hurt uncontrollably.
Imagine just being completely helpless and alone. No one is there for you; those who you thought loved you have abandoned you and do things behind your back that completely paralyze you with pain. You cannot stop them, and they wouldn't listen even if you tried. All you can do is allow it to continue and deal with the pain. There is no fresh start, you have to live with this pain all your life. Of course, you can move on, but it just feels like the pain would be so unbearable. Maybe others have a higher threshold for it, but I don't give out too much trust and care, anymore, so when that rare trust is taken advantage of, it hurts!
While this may not be the most conventional fear (indeed, it's quite the taboo), it certainly means a lot to me.
My biggest fear, though, that's hard to pinpoint. I could say death, but I've sort of gotten over that. I could say heights, but I'm not too afraid of those. I would have to say my biggest fear is being in a situation where every person you've ever cared about and loved completely abandons you and knowingly betrays you. I feel like the pain would be so unimaginable that--well, I guess I don't really want to try and think of it. I get dramatic a lot, don't I? I can think of it, and I have. I just know it'd hurt uncontrollably.
Imagine just being completely helpless and alone. No one is there for you; those who you thought loved you have abandoned you and do things behind your back that completely paralyze you with pain. You cannot stop them, and they wouldn't listen even if you tried. All you can do is allow it to continue and deal with the pain. There is no fresh start, you have to live with this pain all your life. Of course, you can move on, but it just feels like the pain would be so unbearable. Maybe others have a higher threshold for it, but I don't give out too much trust and care, anymore, so when that rare trust is taken advantage of, it hurts!
While this may not be the most conventional fear (indeed, it's quite the taboo), it certainly means a lot to me.
Peaceful Protest
Honestly, peaceful protests are boring. I like hearing about riots where four people are maimed with one person's ear chewed off. Okay, so I'm joking around, peaceful protests are good. Of course, I'm not sure about how much of a job they get done. I'll be honest, the protests look great on paper, we look back on the 1960's sit-ins and such, but did they really do much at the time? Sure, they symbolized something greater than what they were, they were humane and loving, allowing the hatred of others against them to be used as a catalyst in their plea for African American rights.
Though the protests were ironic in a beneficial way, they seemed to be seen that way due to us viewing them with loving eyes. At the time, though, it's very likely they were viewed as idiotic, foolish, and counter-productive. So what can we infer from peaceful protests? I believe that there are two sides to the debate that must be addressed: Are peaceful protests productive for short-term fixes, or are they filler for a more cataclysmic event that truly changes the way everything becomes?
To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I believe in peace being incredibly needed in the world, and that it's something we all should strive for, but I'm not sure how effective it can truly be in the end. While I feel it should be the end-all-be-all, I struggle to see it approaching in the near future--or ever, for that matter. Hey, it's a grim outlook, and though I respect everything that peaceful protests are and all that they stand for, I cannot truly condone them. I am unsure of their final outcome and how well they end up being. While violence is definitely not the solution, I'm not sure peace can be, either. I guess it sounds stupid, but hey.
Though the protests were ironic in a beneficial way, they seemed to be seen that way due to us viewing them with loving eyes. At the time, though, it's very likely they were viewed as idiotic, foolish, and counter-productive. So what can we infer from peaceful protests? I believe that there are two sides to the debate that must be addressed: Are peaceful protests productive for short-term fixes, or are they filler for a more cataclysmic event that truly changes the way everything becomes?
To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I believe in peace being incredibly needed in the world, and that it's something we all should strive for, but I'm not sure how effective it can truly be in the end. While I feel it should be the end-all-be-all, I struggle to see it approaching in the near future--or ever, for that matter. Hey, it's a grim outlook, and though I respect everything that peaceful protests are and all that they stand for, I cannot truly condone them. I am unsure of their final outcome and how well they end up being. While violence is definitely not the solution, I'm not sure peace can be, either. I guess it sounds stupid, but hey.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Importance of Seclusion
I certainly know the importance of seclusion. After all, I experience it almost every day. Sad, I know, but true! Who cares, though. It's made me much more resilient to forced seclusion, so I like to think of it as training for when something happens that could potentially make me go mad. Though I normally have seclusion with a device that I can use to connect to the outside world...
Okay, I'll admit it: My seclusion isn't very healthy. I sit down for extended periods and just stare at a computer screen. Then, if I want to go out, I stare at an LCD attached to my camera, rather than looking at the actual world. Is that bad, looking through technology? That's a good book idea, actually...
Is seclusion important, though? Yes, I believe it is. You can't put yourself out there for days on end, dealing with person after person, making yourself depend on others for who you are, what you can do. I'm being melodramatic, it's definitely not that extreme, but my point remains valid! If you're surrounded by people constantly with no time to evaluate yourself, how do you know you're your own person? You could be completely mimicking every other person you're with and not realize it.
Let's face it, we're a product of our experiences. Individualism is a lie. All this "Be who you want to be!" bull crap is completely false. There's six billion of us, not to mention the billions that came before us. You're not the first person to think up an idea, you're not the first person to make a certain sound. Seriously, think of the most inane, idiotic thing you can right now. The odds that someone, somewhere, at some point in time thought that same exact thing could be pretty high. I'm sorry if I'm pessimistic, but it's true! You're not unique, you're not special! You're just another person. This seclusion allows you to deal with that.
I've dealt with this realization for a while now, but this realization allows me to continue on and discover new ideas and new ways to get past this minor set back. And, like I've said, I'm sure I'm not the first person to think this. Odds are, someone else reading this right now could have realized this long ago, too. I'm not unique in discovering this, but my seclusion allowed me to figure it out and deal with it.
I think I digress too much...
Okay, I'll admit it: My seclusion isn't very healthy. I sit down for extended periods and just stare at a computer screen. Then, if I want to go out, I stare at an LCD attached to my camera, rather than looking at the actual world. Is that bad, looking through technology? That's a good book idea, actually...
Is seclusion important, though? Yes, I believe it is. You can't put yourself out there for days on end, dealing with person after person, making yourself depend on others for who you are, what you can do. I'm being melodramatic, it's definitely not that extreme, but my point remains valid! If you're surrounded by people constantly with no time to evaluate yourself, how do you know you're your own person? You could be completely mimicking every other person you're with and not realize it.
Let's face it, we're a product of our experiences. Individualism is a lie. All this "Be who you want to be!" bull crap is completely false. There's six billion of us, not to mention the billions that came before us. You're not the first person to think up an idea, you're not the first person to make a certain sound. Seriously, think of the most inane, idiotic thing you can right now. The odds that someone, somewhere, at some point in time thought that same exact thing could be pretty high. I'm sorry if I'm pessimistic, but it's true! You're not unique, you're not special! You're just another person. This seclusion allows you to deal with that.
I've dealt with this realization for a while now, but this realization allows me to continue on and discover new ideas and new ways to get past this minor set back. And, like I've said, I'm sure I'm not the first person to think this. Odds are, someone else reading this right now could have realized this long ago, too. I'm not unique in discovering this, but my seclusion allowed me to figure it out and deal with it.
I think I digress too much...
My Favorite Thing to Read
There are a lot of things I like to read. I like to think I read a lot, but the sad truth is that I don't. I'm sure I've read more than the average person, but it doesn't change the fact that I could read a lot more than I do. What I don't understand is how other people look at reading with such contempt. They cannot grasp the fact that, even if schools force you to read material you don't like, there's still tons of interesting and entertaining material that's begging to be read.
Out of all the things I like to read, I'm going to say that I love novels the most. They're just entertaining in so many ways. If you want something more specific, then I'd say I like... dramatic novels the most. Comedies are sometimes funny, but I've never really laughed out loud (read: LOL) from a novel before, and I doubt I ever will. In fact, sometimes the humor of a novel just goes right over my head. I can read an entire novel before I find out it was supposed to be funny. It's hard for me to read a joke and understand it's a joke, I need the delivery to be clearly a joke. Maybe I'm just stupid. That's probably it...
Moreover, novels just expand my thoughts. I know my favorite book I've ever read that still gets me: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. This novel wasn't touching, it wasn't gentle; it attacked me with full force. It follows a 9-year-old girl's journey through Nazi Germany during World War II. What's more: The novel is narrated by Death. Instead of viewing him as a malevolent creature, Zusack envisions him as tired and downtrodden. The novel creates a force of sadness and deprivation that benefits from the child's discover of a new world, literature, while the entire world around her changes drastically. The plot only thickens when her family hides a Jew, who seems to meld the two worlds into one, defacing Hitler's Mein Kampf with the story of himself.
The mere fact that a novel is able to parasitically enter into my body and burrow directly into my heart is what exemplifies all that literature is. To read is something that is so needed, so wanted by a human soul, that depraving said soul of this unalienable ability would be torture. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but I guess that's just how I feel.
Seriously, read this book.
The Book Thief
Out of all the things I like to read, I'm going to say that I love novels the most. They're just entertaining in so many ways. If you want something more specific, then I'd say I like... dramatic novels the most. Comedies are sometimes funny, but I've never really laughed out loud (read: LOL) from a novel before, and I doubt I ever will. In fact, sometimes the humor of a novel just goes right over my head. I can read an entire novel before I find out it was supposed to be funny. It's hard for me to read a joke and understand it's a joke, I need the delivery to be clearly a joke. Maybe I'm just stupid. That's probably it...
Moreover, novels just expand my thoughts. I know my favorite book I've ever read that still gets me: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. This novel wasn't touching, it wasn't gentle; it attacked me with full force. It follows a 9-year-old girl's journey through Nazi Germany during World War II. What's more: The novel is narrated by Death. Instead of viewing him as a malevolent creature, Zusack envisions him as tired and downtrodden. The novel creates a force of sadness and deprivation that benefits from the child's discover of a new world, literature, while the entire world around her changes drastically. The plot only thickens when her family hides a Jew, who seems to meld the two worlds into one, defacing Hitler's Mein Kampf with the story of himself.
The mere fact that a novel is able to parasitically enter into my body and burrow directly into my heart is what exemplifies all that literature is. To read is something that is so needed, so wanted by a human soul, that depraving said soul of this unalienable ability would be torture. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but I guess that's just how I feel.
Seriously, read this book.
The Book Thief
United States of Drew
An ideal United States for me is hard to imagine. I don't like imagining a utopia, because then there's nothing to feel superior to; there's nothing to hate. I'm sorry if this sounds bad, but come on! Everyone needs to hate something, it's just in our genes. It feeds us anger, which can help power other emotions. People need to stop acting like anger is such a bad thing. Anger helps us, it can fuel us. I feel like there has to be something someone utterly hates and dislikes. It's a necessity.
Continuing my blog, I feel like a utopia would just suck. I guess it depends on the utopia, though. If it's a utopia where everyone is financially stable and no one goes hungry or whatever, then that's good! Well, not really. As a matter of fact, I'm fine with the poverty and death that goes on in the world. Again, it sounds bad, but everyone seems to overlook overpopulation. Sure, it's not an issue now, but at the rate we're heading it will be. I'm not saying let's commit mass genocides, but I'm saying something's gonna have to be done.
I would change some economic policies, eliminate the hold that religion seems to have on the entirety of the political system, and just try and make things better for the US. I would hope we wouldn't be looked at with such disdain, and that we would maybe be praised for being awesome. I'm not saying we're awesome, though. We're definitely not awesome. You know who was awesome? The founding fathers! They were freaking awesome, and we need to bring them back. No more of this crappy Palin and Cheney crap.
Also, I'd get rid of Fox News.
Continuing my blog, I feel like a utopia would just suck. I guess it depends on the utopia, though. If it's a utopia where everyone is financially stable and no one goes hungry or whatever, then that's good! Well, not really. As a matter of fact, I'm fine with the poverty and death that goes on in the world. Again, it sounds bad, but everyone seems to overlook overpopulation. Sure, it's not an issue now, but at the rate we're heading it will be. I'm not saying let's commit mass genocides, but I'm saying something's gonna have to be done.
I would change some economic policies, eliminate the hold that religion seems to have on the entirety of the political system, and just try and make things better for the US. I would hope we wouldn't be looked at with such disdain, and that we would maybe be praised for being awesome. I'm not saying we're awesome, though. We're definitely not awesome. You know who was awesome? The founding fathers! They were freaking awesome, and we need to bring them back. No more of this crappy Palin and Cheney crap.
Also, I'd get rid of Fox News.
My Favorite Director
I've chosen director because it's much broader than choosing only a favorite film. Plus, my favorite director composed much of my favorite movies, so there's that.
Actually, since it's been so long, I'm not sure if this is what this blog is supposed to be about. Let me check really quick...
Yep, I'm on track.
Moving along, my favorite thing to talk about is film. I love movies. I've developed a strong love of movies over the past few years, and along with this, I've grown a bit... snobby. It's a negative aspect, I know, and I'm working to get over it, but the road is a hard one. Anyways, the reason I'm telling you, my beloved reader, this is because of how it affects my taste in movies. I don't believe it's really possible to be a connoisseur of bad movies. Well, it's possible, but if one says they love movies and list their favorites as being Step Brothers, Transformers, The Happening, any movie with Dwayne Johnson in it, etc., then I'm not going to label them as a movie buff.
To get to my actual subject, my favorite director is Stanley Kubrick. Why? If I need to answer this question to anyone, then they're not into movies much. God, there's my snobbery, again... Whatever, it's true. Stanley Kubrick was just a genius of directing. None of his films could be ranked lower than four stars on a scale of one to five. Half of his films have become classics, and four of them are regularly quoted on a day-to-day basis. Each film is incredibly well-sculpted and toned to perfection.
2001: A Space Odyssey is indeed the greatest film ever made. Not only is it brilliantly acted and intelligent, but its visuals still look like they could have been made with today's technology. The philosophical and intellectual ideas it presents are mind altering, and will ring within each viewer's head for years to come. I'd like to think the film had an impact on cinema like that of World War II's impact on the world.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb is more than just a movie I based my blog's title off of. It is my favorite film of all time. It's hilarious, enthralling, and intelligently witty in a way that is completely alluring. I have never enjoyed a movie more than I enjoyed Dr. Strangelove upon viewing.
A Clockwork Orange is without a doubt Kubrick's most violent film. Perhaps it's due to the character's love of "ultraviolence" that is a prominent theme in this film (as well as in the book). This film is not for the weak of heart, though. As a matter of fact, it was given an X rating at the time of its release due to its mountains of graphic content. Well, not mountains, but it does have one scene in particular that will leave you trembling in your mind from its disturbing content. Indeed, this is Kubrick's most psychologically tormenting film to date. It intelligently commands an arsenal of tactics used to leave the viewer with an odd taste in their mouth.
Some more Kubrick films that you may have heard of are Full Metal Jacket, Barry Lyndon, Lolita, and--I'm positive everyone's heard of this one--The Shining.
Actually, since it's been so long, I'm not sure if this is what this blog is supposed to be about. Let me check really quick...
Yep, I'm on track.
Moving along, my favorite thing to talk about is film. I love movies. I've developed a strong love of movies over the past few years, and along with this, I've grown a bit... snobby. It's a negative aspect, I know, and I'm working to get over it, but the road is a hard one. Anyways, the reason I'm telling you, my beloved reader, this is because of how it affects my taste in movies. I don't believe it's really possible to be a connoisseur of bad movies. Well, it's possible, but if one says they love movies and list their favorites as being Step Brothers, Transformers, The Happening, any movie with Dwayne Johnson in it, etc., then I'm not going to label them as a movie buff.
To get to my actual subject, my favorite director is Stanley Kubrick. Why? If I need to answer this question to anyone, then they're not into movies much. God, there's my snobbery, again... Whatever, it's true. Stanley Kubrick was just a genius of directing. None of his films could be ranked lower than four stars on a scale of one to five. Half of his films have become classics, and four of them are regularly quoted on a day-to-day basis. Each film is incredibly well-sculpted and toned to perfection.
2001: A Space Odyssey is indeed the greatest film ever made. Not only is it brilliantly acted and intelligent, but its visuals still look like they could have been made with today's technology. The philosophical and intellectual ideas it presents are mind altering, and will ring within each viewer's head for years to come. I'd like to think the film had an impact on cinema like that of World War II's impact on the world.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb is more than just a movie I based my blog's title off of. It is my favorite film of all time. It's hilarious, enthralling, and intelligently witty in a way that is completely alluring. I have never enjoyed a movie more than I enjoyed Dr. Strangelove upon viewing.
A Clockwork Orange is without a doubt Kubrick's most violent film. Perhaps it's due to the character's love of "ultraviolence" that is a prominent theme in this film (as well as in the book). This film is not for the weak of heart, though. As a matter of fact, it was given an X rating at the time of its release due to its mountains of graphic content. Well, not mountains, but it does have one scene in particular that will leave you trembling in your mind from its disturbing content. Indeed, this is Kubrick's most psychologically tormenting film to date. It intelligently commands an arsenal of tactics used to leave the viewer with an odd taste in their mouth.
Some more Kubrick films that you may have heard of are Full Metal Jacket, Barry Lyndon, Lolita, and--I'm positive everyone's heard of this one--The Shining.
Declaration of Art
I value creativity and uniqueness. It's something I've always liked. Why do I value this? I'm not sure. Something about art and the like has always seemed to draw me in. I don't like sports and business and all that monotonous stuff that doesn't really add to anything. It doesn't expand, it doesn't grow; it stays the same. In 20 years, people will still be making the same comments about football or still be talking about the same business ethics. When it comes to art, though, something will have indeed changed. No one will be referencing Twilight as a classic of literature (I hope to God they won't, at least...), they'll be talking about the newest book, the newest movie, the latest band.
Art seems to have a broad type of hold on society. It can be timeless, while at the same time always changing. We still reference Moby Dick and The Odyssey, yet also talk about the latest craze in everything else. The classics are unforgettable, yet the changes are constant. It's hard to believe in certain things of our time becoming classics of literature or film history, later on. Who knows if Kanye West will indeed become the next King of Pop?* The Twilight films and book could become the Nosferatu's and Dracula's of a later generation.** It's unpredictable.
Art isn't something that can be calculated, it cannot be estimated. It just is, and it won't be anything else. It's just like how sports will always be sports, sure the games could change, but the physical activity used for a greater purpose of teamwork and victory will always remain. Regardless of whether or not film or digital media will still exist in the next 100 years (who knows where the human race will take us on the road to armageddon), art will never be any different from what it always has been.
*Hell no, he won't.
**For the love of all that is holy, NO.
Art seems to have a broad type of hold on society. It can be timeless, while at the same time always changing. We still reference Moby Dick and The Odyssey, yet also talk about the latest craze in everything else. The classics are unforgettable, yet the changes are constant. It's hard to believe in certain things of our time becoming classics of literature or film history, later on. Who knows if Kanye West will indeed become the next King of Pop?* The Twilight films and book could become the Nosferatu's and Dracula's of a later generation.** It's unpredictable.
Art isn't something that can be calculated, it cannot be estimated. It just is, and it won't be anything else. It's just like how sports will always be sports, sure the games could change, but the physical activity used for a greater purpose of teamwork and victory will always remain. Regardless of whether or not film or digital media will still exist in the next 100 years (who knows where the human race will take us on the road to armageddon), art will never be any different from what it always has been.
*Hell no, he won't.
**For the love of all that is holy, NO.
Logic / Reasoning vs. Emotion for Support
Okay, so it's been about, what, three weeks since I've written a blog? I'm not sure. I doubt I'm in the mood to write, and the mediocre-ness of Employee of the Month is distracting me from writing. However! I will commit, and I will indeed write. The TV is muted, I'm talking to no one, and my brain is in writing mode, so let's get this show on the rode. I have eight blogs to write... Well, nine. I think.
When it comes to support, many things depend on the certain thing that needs support. If I am having trouble deciding between which color I like more, logic and reasoning have no say in this matter. Of course, they could, but it seems pointless and foolish to include them in such a minuscule decision. Now, this idea doesn't really bleed over into other arguments, though. As much as I hate the absent-minded, logical robots that some people can be, I'm not going to shoot them down. Logic and reasoning is indeed a key factor in winning any kind of debate or argument.
Think of this: Who would you trust more in a state of emergency? The crying, whining man who preaches about how mean these people have been to our country and have bullied us, or the level-headed man who keeps his wits about him and tells the people why we should retaliate or turn the other cheek. Emotion cannot be the sole source of support. It can be used to rally, it can be used to bring forth revolution and change, but it is rarely used to explain fact.
I do not condone explaining evolution with your feelings. Obviously, you cannot teach kids evolution by maliciously gnawing at religion's throat. Logically, you explain to them what evolution is, and if any sort of argument from the other side is presented, you reasonably shoo it away; it doesn't get any simpler. Of course, it's easier said than done, but who's trying, really? We're teenagers: We're irrational, idiots, and egocentric. That's what makes high school so hard to deal with, and that's what makes so many people get angry over getting a D on their paper when all they do is rant about things with no support other than the feelings coming off the top of their heads.
That was a strange ending, and an emotional one.
When it comes to support, many things depend on the certain thing that needs support. If I am having trouble deciding between which color I like more, logic and reasoning have no say in this matter. Of course, they could, but it seems pointless and foolish to include them in such a minuscule decision. Now, this idea doesn't really bleed over into other arguments, though. As much as I hate the absent-minded, logical robots that some people can be, I'm not going to shoot them down. Logic and reasoning is indeed a key factor in winning any kind of debate or argument.
Think of this: Who would you trust more in a state of emergency? The crying, whining man who preaches about how mean these people have been to our country and have bullied us, or the level-headed man who keeps his wits about him and tells the people why we should retaliate or turn the other cheek. Emotion cannot be the sole source of support. It can be used to rally, it can be used to bring forth revolution and change, but it is rarely used to explain fact.
I do not condone explaining evolution with your feelings. Obviously, you cannot teach kids evolution by maliciously gnawing at religion's throat. Logically, you explain to them what evolution is, and if any sort of argument from the other side is presented, you reasonably shoo it away; it doesn't get any simpler. Of course, it's easier said than done, but who's trying, really? We're teenagers: We're irrational, idiots, and egocentric. That's what makes high school so hard to deal with, and that's what makes so many people get angry over getting a D on their paper when all they do is rant about things with no support other than the feelings coming off the top of their heads.
That was a strange ending, and an emotional one.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
School Spirit
Contrary to popular belief, school spirit is not in any way important. It's having fun that's important. If someone likes going to school football games, then what's important is having fun, not cheering for your team. Of course, there are other points that complement school spirit. Without it, no one would really care about anything pertaining to the school. Clubs could potentially not be formed, support for sports teams would dwindle, and the entire foundation of the American educational system would collapse upon itself, causing a cataclysmic event that would shake the entirety of the cosmos, rupturing time and space and bring about the end of reality as we know it.
Okay, so that last part might have been overkill, but you never really know.
Anyhow, the value of school spirit is a bit overdone, to be honest. I guess I have some school spirit. It's fine to like certain aspects of your school, but overall I'm not too big a fan of the rest of it. I find too much bias towards sports and certain other things in the school, rather than an equal amount of attention towards everything in the entirety of the school. Because of this, it's hard to have complete respect for the school and the decisions it undergoes. Then again, it bought to Canon Rebels that I get to take pictures with, so I guess I can't complain.
Another reason it's not a big deal is that, in the end, it doesn't really matter. You're going to graduate (at least, I'd hope you will), move on to college, and then go out in the real world. No matter how big of a hot shot you were in high school, it's not going to just move on with you into your future jobs. People may respect you and think you're great for being the one painting your entire body red and blue and bringing a blow horn to deafen people while you scream until you lose your voice, but is that really something you want to put on a resume? And if, for some god-awful reason, you do put something like that on a resume, it's not like that's going to make you any more likely to get a job.
I'm just me, though. I do what I do because I like doing things that I would actually do. I don't truly care about the school all that much, so why exert the energy to make it seem like I do?
Okay, so that last part might have been overkill, but you never really know.
Anyhow, the value of school spirit is a bit overdone, to be honest. I guess I have some school spirit. It's fine to like certain aspects of your school, but overall I'm not too big a fan of the rest of it. I find too much bias towards sports and certain other things in the school, rather than an equal amount of attention towards everything in the entirety of the school. Because of this, it's hard to have complete respect for the school and the decisions it undergoes. Then again, it bought to Canon Rebels that I get to take pictures with, so I guess I can't complain.
Another reason it's not a big deal is that, in the end, it doesn't really matter. You're going to graduate (at least, I'd hope you will), move on to college, and then go out in the real world. No matter how big of a hot shot you were in high school, it's not going to just move on with you into your future jobs. People may respect you and think you're great for being the one painting your entire body red and blue and bringing a blow horn to deafen people while you scream until you lose your voice, but is that really something you want to put on a resume? And if, for some god-awful reason, you do put something like that on a resume, it's not like that's going to make you any more likely to get a job.
I'm just me, though. I do what I do because I like doing things that I would actually do. I don't truly care about the school all that much, so why exert the energy to make it seem like I do?
Thanks, Comedy Central
Wow. A show for a ventriloquist. Is Comedy Central grasping for straws, or something? First, we've got Mind of Mencia; thank god we're rid of that. Next we get The Sarah Silverman Program? How is that compensation? We've just had our minds dumbed down to nothing by the horrible "comedy" of Carlos Mencia and his damned "DE DEE DEE!" and you feed us more garbage? Low blow, Comedy Central.
Just as we climbed out of our pit, though, you dealt the (hopefully) final blow. There we were, blinded from the dark in our dank, nightmarish prison, with Sarah Silverman dangling her horrible comedy in front of our faces, exclaiming, "It shoves the horrible 'comedy' down its throat or else it gets the Mind of Mencia, again!" When she's finally taken away and we, who have been left alone to desperately grope and grasp our way out of this pit of stink, finally reach the beautiful and warm embrace of sunlight, you have Jeff Dunham step in with his puppets. He gingerly picks us up, assuring us everything will be okay. Before we know it, though, we're chained to a wall with Jeff sitting there in a dress, playing tea time with us and his alter ego puppets.
So thanks a lot, Comedy Central, on giving us another horrible show that will be canceled after one season. Dear god, I hope it will be...
Just as we climbed out of our pit, though, you dealt the (hopefully) final blow. There we were, blinded from the dark in our dank, nightmarish prison, with Sarah Silverman dangling her horrible comedy in front of our faces, exclaiming, "It shoves the horrible 'comedy' down its throat or else it gets the Mind of Mencia, again!" When she's finally taken away and we, who have been left alone to desperately grope and grasp our way out of this pit of stink, finally reach the beautiful and warm embrace of sunlight, you have Jeff Dunham step in with his puppets. He gingerly picks us up, assuring us everything will be okay. Before we know it, though, we're chained to a wall with Jeff sitting there in a dress, playing tea time with us and his alter ego puppets.
So thanks a lot, Comedy Central, on giving us another horrible show that will be canceled after one season. Dear god, I hope it will be...
Ethics / Values
Ethics and values: They vary greatly from person to person. It's been made obvious from people like Hitler and Stalin, in comparison to people like Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. Yeah, I dropped some names. What are you going to do about it? Regardless, my point remains valid: No matter how wrong it may seem to other people in the world, your values are still your values... Except Hitler's. He killed millions of people...
Moving along, I have many morals and values, just like every other person. Sort of. Some people in the world just kind of live without any idea of what a moral is. They do things for themselves and think nothing of the repercussions that could transpire should they continue this negative lifestyle. These people, however, are few and far between, though I'm sure one day you will meet one of these people. My advice is to stay far away from them. You may feel as though I'm unethically putting myself before them, but in the end, it's best to keep far away from any of these people. Hey, you can't say I didn't warn you.
Finally, I guess we'll get to my ethics and values. First off, I try to be as nice to people as I can be. Even if they wrong me, I feel bad for anything that really happens to them. If they've really wronged me, though, I will feel nothing but contempt for said person. Of course, in the end, I'll just get over it and feel bad about anything that has to do with me being mean towards a person. It's a curse, and it seems like people take advantage of it at times, but whatever. I feel good for not being the one doing the wronging, so it's worth it in the end. I also value open-mindedness. I can't take people who can't reason with their own selves and see the big picture. If they can't accept something because of their inability to do so, then I'll lose some respect for them.
I don't respect how America teaches children about some things, as well. This is a school blog, though, so I guess I shouldn't be commenting on such touchy (and controversial) subjects. Now that I've chosen to lay off that, I'll just say that I also feel that caring is an important emotion. One that lacks caring is one that is not fully whole. It may sound mean to say, but in my world I think it makes very much sense. That's all I've really got to say right now, though. You guys have me in a bind.
Moving along, I have many morals and values, just like every other person. Sort of. Some people in the world just kind of live without any idea of what a moral is. They do things for themselves and think nothing of the repercussions that could transpire should they continue this negative lifestyle. These people, however, are few and far between, though I'm sure one day you will meet one of these people. My advice is to stay far away from them. You may feel as though I'm unethically putting myself before them, but in the end, it's best to keep far away from any of these people. Hey, you can't say I didn't warn you.
Finally, I guess we'll get to my ethics and values. First off, I try to be as nice to people as I can be. Even if they wrong me, I feel bad for anything that really happens to them. If they've really wronged me, though, I will feel nothing but contempt for said person. Of course, in the end, I'll just get over it and feel bad about anything that has to do with me being mean towards a person. It's a curse, and it seems like people take advantage of it at times, but whatever. I feel good for not being the one doing the wronging, so it's worth it in the end. I also value open-mindedness. I can't take people who can't reason with their own selves and see the big picture. If they can't accept something because of their inability to do so, then I'll lose some respect for them.
I don't respect how America teaches children about some things, as well. This is a school blog, though, so I guess I shouldn't be commenting on such touchy (and controversial) subjects. Now that I've chosen to lay off that, I'll just say that I also feel that caring is an important emotion. One that lacks caring is one that is not fully whole. It may sound mean to say, but in my world I think it makes very much sense. That's all I've really got to say right now, though. You guys have me in a bind.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Working with Partners
It sure is awkward meeting someone new. Not if you want to, though! I mean, I'm all for meeting new people. It can just become awkward if you have nothing to talk about with this new person. Thankfully, school sort of forces you to talk. I'll express this in terms of a play. Why? Because I feel like it.
SCHOOL
(impatiently)
Come on, come on! Talk to this person!
DREW sits in the computer chair uneasily. He fidgets slightly as the chair SQUEAKS beneath him.
DREW
(cautiously)
Do I have to? I don't even know what to talk about...
SCHOOL menacingly slaps DREW, as the the SNAP of skin upon intangible nothingness is heard throughout the class.
SCHOOL
(ferociously)
You fool! Just introduce yourself and write about virtues!
DREW
(sobbing)
Yes, Mr. School, sir.
END SCENE
Now, wasn't that just beautiful? It was better than Shakespeare. I'm sure with that incredible, soon-to-be-Oscar-nominated scene, you can see how it works. Though the school (in this case, a thinly-veiled abusive Mr. Langley) has us write to these strangers, they gently push us into it. What makes it all the easier is the fact that there is no actual physical or verbal contact between any of us. Sure, it's the coward's way of going about it, but that's why it works. You can't just take some students over to Farmington, introduce them to their new partners and say, "All right, well you three mingle. Oh, and go on out for a cup of coffee and discuss about our latest topic whenever you can! Ciao!" It just doesn't work that way. This is what allows students to sort of easily move into such a big change.
What is more interesting is the fact that the internet and technology seems to have disconnected humans from each other, but in some way also brought them into one point. They can converse easily and passively, yet change the setting to a simple get-together at the park, and many will only be standing awkwardly, trying their best to not associate with anyone in fear of the awkward introductions. There's two odd opposite poles to the value of the internet. There are connections being made, but are there really connections being made? Phone was considered too impersonal at the time of its conception, and some could say it still is. With text messaging being a prominent thing in society now, where has the development of communication gone? Sure, you're "talking" to a person, but you're doing this through kilobytes of data and numbers, not through interpersonal, verbal contact. That's what's scary about the rise of technology; the overall dependence upon it.
But I digress. I really digress. Partnering us up is a great way to get us to meet and collaborate with new people, but not in an awkward, I-don't-want-to-do-this kind of way.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Religion and its Intricacies
I'm atheist. That's what I'm going to start this post off with, since I feel it obviously has relevance to this subject. Its relevance, however, comes into play when I talk of my feelings towards religion. I could go on for hours about how I hate certain aspects of religion and how it's detrimental to society, but this is a school blog, and because of such I should hold back on such offensive comments. I will, however, give a bit of a watered-down reaction to this touchy subject.
For convenient purposes, I'll refer to the biggest religion out there, Christianity, to convey my personal thoughts and opinions on religion. Yes, this is generalizing, but it has the most prominence here in America, considering the sheer amount of Christian believers. What I feel is the worst part of religion is the sheer ignorance and hatred that it can spawn. Now, I say "can" because it's fairly obvious that religion doesn't cause every single person who believes in it to become an ignorant, blind believer. I know, however, that it does cater to those afraid. When Christianity was conceived, it was in a time of pessimism. There was no almighty heaven for those who lived a good life to retreat to, there was only an underworld where every person would go. Christianity, at the time, provided a way for those afraid to cope with death to, well, cope with death. Who wouldn't want to believe that, since they're a good person, they'll live in paradise for all eternity afterwards?
Curiously, this is what scared me when I was younger. Yes, I was living in paradise, but for all eternity? Eternity is a long time. It's endless, in case you didn't know. I'm not sure if you're like me, but I'd love to just stop existing one day. "Okay, I've had my fill, please just let me actually die." Does this sound pessimistic? Maybe. But it is a clear picture into my mind: I don't need a religion to solidify my fear of death. We're all afraid of death, anyone who denies it is lying. When it comes down to it, we will accept it, but never not be afraid. We, as humans, are afraid of many things that are unknown, and so we create these gods and deities that make us feel a little bit better about existing. Why be afraid if we convincingly trick ourselves into believing that it'll be okay in the end? There's a loving, omnipotent being that will be there for us in the end. Whether or not the Christian God is truly as loving and caring as many would have us believe is clearly up for debate, but many live under the falsehood that he truly is benevolent.
There are those that argue that the Bible is completely true and factual, while others merely state that they take a metaphorical approach towards their theological beliefs. I choose not to take it in any way. The Bible was never a good read for me, and I never once got what I wanted out of religion. Atheism is the only logical way of living, for me.
And I'm completely okay with that.
For convenient purposes, I'll refer to the biggest religion out there, Christianity, to convey my personal thoughts and opinions on religion. Yes, this is generalizing, but it has the most prominence here in America, considering the sheer amount of Christian believers. What I feel is the worst part of religion is the sheer ignorance and hatred that it can spawn. Now, I say "can" because it's fairly obvious that religion doesn't cause every single person who believes in it to become an ignorant, blind believer. I know, however, that it does cater to those afraid. When Christianity was conceived, it was in a time of pessimism. There was no almighty heaven for those who lived a good life to retreat to, there was only an underworld where every person would go. Christianity, at the time, provided a way for those afraid to cope with death to, well, cope with death. Who wouldn't want to believe that, since they're a good person, they'll live in paradise for all eternity afterwards?
Curiously, this is what scared me when I was younger. Yes, I was living in paradise, but for all eternity? Eternity is a long time. It's endless, in case you didn't know. I'm not sure if you're like me, but I'd love to just stop existing one day. "Okay, I've had my fill, please just let me actually die." Does this sound pessimistic? Maybe. But it is a clear picture into my mind: I don't need a religion to solidify my fear of death. We're all afraid of death, anyone who denies it is lying. When it comes down to it, we will accept it, but never not be afraid. We, as humans, are afraid of many things that are unknown, and so we create these gods and deities that make us feel a little bit better about existing. Why be afraid if we convincingly trick ourselves into believing that it'll be okay in the end? There's a loving, omnipotent being that will be there for us in the end. Whether or not the Christian God is truly as loving and caring as many would have us believe is clearly up for debate, but many live under the falsehood that he truly is benevolent.
There are those that argue that the Bible is completely true and factual, while others merely state that they take a metaphorical approach towards their theological beliefs. I choose not to take it in any way. The Bible was never a good read for me, and I never once got what I wanted out of religion. Atheism is the only logical way of living, for me.
And I'm completely okay with that.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Blame: When All Else Fails, Point Fingers
Oh, how truly easy it is to blame everyone else for something that you are trying to weasel your way out of--to expect everything to be okay if you can just grin and snicker your way through it. Blame is a double-edged sword, though. You lash out at one, but their parry could only harm you. So why, then, does one blame? Is the guilt not enough to stave their attempts? It is human nature that causes it.
In Arthur Miller's The Crucible, blame takes on a key factor in the play. If not for blame, none of the events would have transpired at all. Abigail's malicious intent is what causes the death of many innocents--all because of the base human emotions of fear and anger. Her complete hatred towards John Proctor's wife is what caused her to lie and blame. From The Crucible, it is made obvious that humans (in the end) are only out to save themselves, rather than another. Whether or not the other will be harmed does not matter; their name will already be thrown into the mud without regard for what could transpire.
I haven't blamed someone else for something in what feels like a very long time. Maybe I have and I don't remember, but it feels like it's been years. Not since I was a child. Going back to my true colors personality, maybe it was the guilt that I felt--the emotion. I'm not sure. I know I've blamed others for my problems, though, when I could have just sucked it up and tried to fix them on my own. I'm sure many people have done this, though. We have weak moments where the only way we could ever feel better is from putting the blame on others. Not directly to their, face, though. Only in our minds, to make ourselves feel better.
Maybe that's just me, though. Who knows. Regardless of that, it matters that blame only be placed on those that truly have done something to deserve such.
In Arthur Miller's The Crucible, blame takes on a key factor in the play. If not for blame, none of the events would have transpired at all. Abigail's malicious intent is what causes the death of many innocents--all because of the base human emotions of fear and anger. Her complete hatred towards John Proctor's wife is what caused her to lie and blame. From The Crucible, it is made obvious that humans (in the end) are only out to save themselves, rather than another. Whether or not the other will be harmed does not matter; their name will already be thrown into the mud without regard for what could transpire.
I haven't blamed someone else for something in what feels like a very long time. Maybe I have and I don't remember, but it feels like it's been years. Not since I was a child. Going back to my true colors personality, maybe it was the guilt that I felt--the emotion. I'm not sure. I know I've blamed others for my problems, though, when I could have just sucked it up and tried to fix them on my own. I'm sure many people have done this, though. We have weak moments where the only way we could ever feel better is from putting the blame on others. Not directly to their, face, though. Only in our minds, to make ourselves feel better.
Maybe that's just me, though. Who knows. Regardless of that, it matters that blame only be placed on those that truly have done something to deserve such.
I'm Blue, but Not Depressed!
Corny pun aside, I am indeed the color blue, as my True Colors personality states. To elaborate, blue is apparently the color of a whiny, emotional person that can't control their feelings for more than two seconds. I guess that's the morbid way of looking at it, but even so, I'm apparently it. Does this color define me, though? I feel like it does. I've found myself in situations where, if I were any other color, things would've turned out differently.
In truth, Mr. Langley was right in saying how blues basically forgive and forget. This applies strongly to me--I don't forget, though. I forgive, yes, but I hold whatever action that the person I'm forgiving has done against them until I can finally forget. Is this a bad quality? I guess so, but there's nothing much I can do about it. I never confront anyone about it, and I'm always as polite as possible if I can be, so I guess there's no harm, no foul.
My second color that I would be is apparently an orange. To be honest, I guess that's the best way of describing me. I'm emotional, and I try to be outgoing and fun. I'm a child at heart, I guess, but a mature one, apparently.
I guess I'm cutting this blog short. I don't have very much to talk about, to be honest. I've never liked talking about myself, anyways. It feels awkward.
In truth, Mr. Langley was right in saying how blues basically forgive and forget. This applies strongly to me--I don't forget, though. I forgive, yes, but I hold whatever action that the person I'm forgiving has done against them until I can finally forget. Is this a bad quality? I guess so, but there's nothing much I can do about it. I never confront anyone about it, and I'm always as polite as possible if I can be, so I guess there's no harm, no foul.
My second color that I would be is apparently an orange. To be honest, I guess that's the best way of describing me. I'm emotional, and I try to be outgoing and fun. I'm a child at heart, I guess, but a mature one, apparently.
I guess I'm cutting this blog short. I don't have very much to talk about, to be honest. I've never liked talking about myself, anyways. It feels awkward.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Categorization and Descriptions: Let's Make Some Friends!
It's very disgusting how judgmental people really are--he's too fat, or she's too tall, or he has a stupid voice, it's all the same: People judge, and there's not much more to it. But from person to person, it varies. Some have higher standards, while others just don't care. What's most important is asking the question: Why do people do it? What's the point of judging, categorizing, and describing people? Where do we place them in society? Where are they in our brains?
The truth is, they're not in our brains. They're not anywhere but in the real world. The perception of reality is what creates judgments. One man could easily state that the sky is green and the grass is blue, and while others would easily refute it, there is no denying that this is truth to the man. Cold, hard, irrefutable truth. And so the same philosophy applies to categorizing and describing. There are those religious radicals that will harshly categorize anyone who belongs outside their religion into their "bastard heathen" folder, but there are also some who will adopt a live-and-let-live policy. To expect every single person to be the same is pure balderdash!
What is important is how you, yourself, categorize and describe people. And how would I describe my styles of categorization and descriptions? It's hard to say. I would like to say I respect and treat everyone equally, but that's just not the truth. No one could ever truthfully say that. But do I try my best? Of course I do. I have weak moments, though. We all do. For me, though, there are some distinct groups:
Every day, we judge and categorize and describe who we see. It's not malicious, it's just human reaction.
The truth is, they're not in our brains. They're not anywhere but in the real world. The perception of reality is what creates judgments. One man could easily state that the sky is green and the grass is blue, and while others would easily refute it, there is no denying that this is truth to the man. Cold, hard, irrefutable truth. And so the same philosophy applies to categorizing and describing. There are those religious radicals that will harshly categorize anyone who belongs outside their religion into their "bastard heathen" folder, but there are also some who will adopt a live-and-let-live policy. To expect every single person to be the same is pure balderdash!
What is important is how you, yourself, categorize and describe people. And how would I describe my styles of categorization and descriptions? It's hard to say. I would like to say I respect and treat everyone equally, but that's just not the truth. No one could ever truthfully say that. But do I try my best? Of course I do. I have weak moments, though. We all do. For me, though, there are some distinct groups:
- Religious, racial, and political tolerance and/or preference
- Favorite anythings (hobbies, books, movies, etc.)
- Other stuff
Every day, we judge and categorize and describe who we see. It's not malicious, it's just human reaction.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
To Lose Everything
Imagine this: You're walking along a sidewalk as you begin to feel slightly "off". You stop dead in your tracks, thinking to yourself that something is wrong. Frantically, you pat the sides of your pants, realizing the undeniable truth: You lost your cell phone. You quickly go over all the facts in your head: Where did I last have it? Where could it be? Did someone steal it? After you search constantly for hours on end, you finally come to the conclusion that you'll never find it. You've been beaten. One day later, after much angry moping, you come across your phone. Your heart skips a beat, and the butterflies in your stomach almost lift you off the ground. Happily, you're reunited with what you desperately missed.
Now, let's take a different approach. What was it like in that one day you dealt with having no phone? Grueling to some, a slight inconvenience to others; but you found it, and that's all that matters. But imagine what it would be like if you didn't find it. Some would see this in a positive light. "Hey, at least I can get a new phone--a better one!" The sad truth is, though, most will just be heartbroken: "This sucks. I'll have to pay for a new phone, get a new number, add all my contacts, and I'll never get my pictures back!" The ending is the same for both, though: No matter what, you can get a new phone.
But what happens if you lost more than your phone? What if you lost everything? I mean everything. No, not just your precious little iPod or your laptop, I mean everything: Your house, your family, your money, everything. You'd be forced into the streets, cursed to scour and scavenge for what you could. And even more, you'd be completely alone. No one would be there for you; all would look upon you with contempt in their eyes, thinking you're nothing but a bum that gets drunk and high with the money you get. The physical and emotional ramifications of such a disastrous mishap would be unimaginable.
From the beginning, it hits you like a train, and the descent into anguish and despair would be almost unbearable. The horror is perhaps indescribable. A terrain of hate and depression surrounds you as you drift further into an abyss of unquenchable disaster. Could anyone truly survive this? Sure, someone could be able to climb back up to where they were--and perhaps even further into fortune! But could anyone ever mend the wounds that were inflicted upon them? I feel they would be a psychological phenomenon if they could. Humans can only endure so much before they just simply cannot take it anymore. Who knows how many would take their own lives, and how many would just be driven mad from their ordeal? It's a frightening prospect, and not one many can look upon with unconcerned eyes. You'll find yourself averting your gaze and being glad to live in a world of ignorant bliss. After all, if you don't think about it, it won't happen!
Right?
Now, let's take a different approach. What was it like in that one day you dealt with having no phone? Grueling to some, a slight inconvenience to others; but you found it, and that's all that matters. But imagine what it would be like if you didn't find it. Some would see this in a positive light. "Hey, at least I can get a new phone--a better one!" The sad truth is, though, most will just be heartbroken: "This sucks. I'll have to pay for a new phone, get a new number, add all my contacts, and I'll never get my pictures back!" The ending is the same for both, though: No matter what, you can get a new phone.
But what happens if you lost more than your phone? What if you lost everything? I mean everything. No, not just your precious little iPod or your laptop, I mean everything: Your house, your family, your money, everything. You'd be forced into the streets, cursed to scour and scavenge for what you could. And even more, you'd be completely alone. No one would be there for you; all would look upon you with contempt in their eyes, thinking you're nothing but a bum that gets drunk and high with the money you get. The physical and emotional ramifications of such a disastrous mishap would be unimaginable.
From the beginning, it hits you like a train, and the descent into anguish and despair would be almost unbearable. The horror is perhaps indescribable. A terrain of hate and depression surrounds you as you drift further into an abyss of unquenchable disaster. Could anyone truly survive this? Sure, someone could be able to climb back up to where they were--and perhaps even further into fortune! But could anyone ever mend the wounds that were inflicted upon them? I feel they would be a psychological phenomenon if they could. Humans can only endure so much before they just simply cannot take it anymore. Who knows how many would take their own lives, and how many would just be driven mad from their ordeal? It's a frightening prospect, and not one many can look upon with unconcerned eyes. You'll find yourself averting your gaze and being glad to live in a world of ignorant bliss. After all, if you don't think about it, it won't happen!
Right?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I Just Like Posting About Movies, Evidently...
My favorite opening for a movie, ever... A shot of earth, as the view progresses to the moon and sun. Perfect progression from C, to G, to an octave higher C. The transition from the dawn of man, to the progression, and finally to the future.
One of the best movies ever made...
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The Importance of Documented Rules
There are some out there who defy rules; some who rebel against them with an anarchistic cause. Some find a sanctuary in this idea. For practical (and noble) purposes, rules are very necessary. Order and law is something that allows each and every country in the world to thrive. Those with lax policies and unenforced rules are ones that typically fail. Now I'm not all high and mighty for rules. Authority can be wrong a lot of times, and it can be abused. The system can be easily flawed, as well. But, in all, rules are completely necessary as a way of allowing a society to survive.
The rules under my radar today are the rules of the Iroquois League, a joining of many different clans that inhabited central North America. Before their integration, many wars took place between all the tribes. Each one had a different set of rules and guidelines from the other one, and so chaos was almost impossible to avoid. When enough was enough, the tribes met and decreed that they would join together in an effort to create peace between them all. In this, a complete document of rules was established. The Iroquois Constitution envelops many principles of the importance of documented rules. If not for the Iroquois Constitution, havoc and chaos would have still ensued within the tribes of Central North America.
Not only this, but the overall principles of the Iroquois Constitution are completely revolutionary. Never before was a combination of rival tribes so fluid and easy. Though they often fought over trivial details between their beliefs and rules, they were able to integrate into a band of tribes that would live off of the peace of them as a whole. They invited outsiders with open arms, only asking any one that should wish to join to obey their rules and respect what peace they had created. The American Constitution took ideas from this constitution as well (along with philosophies by John Locke and the Roman council). Come to think of it, we're not too original when it comes to our core foundations and beliefs in our own constitution. Regardless, this only furthers the extent of the constitution's relevance, and the reason by which documented rules are to be looked up to and revered.
The rules under my radar today are the rules of the Iroquois League, a joining of many different clans that inhabited central North America. Before their integration, many wars took place between all the tribes. Each one had a different set of rules and guidelines from the other one, and so chaos was almost impossible to avoid. When enough was enough, the tribes met and decreed that they would join together in an effort to create peace between them all. In this, a complete document of rules was established. The Iroquois Constitution envelops many principles of the importance of documented rules. If not for the Iroquois Constitution, havoc and chaos would have still ensued within the tribes of Central North America.
Not only this, but the overall principles of the Iroquois Constitution are completely revolutionary. Never before was a combination of rival tribes so fluid and easy. Though they often fought over trivial details between their beliefs and rules, they were able to integrate into a band of tribes that would live off of the peace of them as a whole. They invited outsiders with open arms, only asking any one that should wish to join to obey their rules and respect what peace they had created. The American Constitution took ideas from this constitution as well (along with philosophies by John Locke and the Roman council). Come to think of it, we're not too original when it comes to our core foundations and beliefs in our own constitution. Regardless, this only furthers the extent of the constitution's relevance, and the reason by which documented rules are to be looked up to and revered.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Hunt for an XH-A1 Continues...
Oh, Beatty Televisual... Why did you taunt me by placing it in front of me and allowing me to cradle it in my arms? I'm only at $1,000... I'll need up to $3,000 if I want a chance at winning any bids on eBay. Still... A man can dream.
Although I can get a Panasonic AG-DVX100A for cheap, too. But the lack of future-proof HD and true 16:9 sensor chips disturbs me. Still, it's quite nice for a Junior in high school.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Films: Their Artistic Importance
I have found in my years of high school that few people truly know a good film when they see it. The entire idea of what is good and what is not is, of course, completely up to an individual. Some people can listen to the persistent pounding and screaming of death metal, while others can listen to the classical arpeggios of violins and cellos. Still, people can listen to the beats and auto-tuned voices of (some, if not most) rap artists; and while some may not understand another's like for their particular taste of music, they cannot truly distinguish how it could be considered bad.
But can this be applied to film? I'm not quite so sure about that. I feel like I'm a film snob. I love good films. Ones that should be commended for their masterful use of cinematography, or the superb acting that they hold. So when I hear--like last year--how a film like Step Brothers could win the majority vote for Funniest Film Ever Made, I sort of lose faith in the school system. You can't subject people to good music, because what is good depends on the listener; but you can subject people to good movies and books. The watcher/reader may not necessarily like them, but he or she will learn a valuable insight into each medium.
A student will never be able to go through school without hearing the names Hemingway, Shakespeare, and Orwell thrown around; it's scary to think that some people will go much of their adult lives without knowing the names of Stanley Kubrick, Orson Welles, Spike Jonze, Paul Thomas Anderson, Martin Scorcese, Ron Howard, and Steven Spielberg. Why, I ask, do we not have a film class as an elective in schools? Why can't we at least give the choice to subject students to films that will actually exercise their mind? If you introduce students to the beauty of film, only then will you see the true importance of them.
"Mr. Kane was a man who got everything he wanted, and then lost it. Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get, or something he lost. Anyway, I don't think it would have explained everything. I don't think any word can explain a man's life. No, I guess Rosebud is just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle."
Allow me to direct your attention to the film that is considered, by many, to be the best film ever made. Orson Welles created his masterpiece in 1941, entitled Citizen Kane. Upon the first view, it's hard to really find anything all that different about the film. "Best film ever made?" you say, "How could this be considered the best film ever made?" Only after you see it a few more times will you notice how it all works. The use of deep focus in many of the scenes; the artistic masterwork of the camera's hard, journalistic viewpoints during interviews; and its strong use of lighting and masterful acting distinguished Citizen Kane from all other films. Not only this, but it completely distinguished the entire genre of film as something truly meaningful. It revealed to all that film is art with a purpose, not just a way for Hollywood to cash a buck.
Can a school not encompass the idea of an artistic film? Can a school not view incredible films such as Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey or Citizen Kane to teach students and cause them to analyze more than just the underlying themes, but the use of lighting, angles, acting, and objects in a scene that compliment the entire message? Evidently not. And this is why we hear every day students talking about that latest spoof movie, or Michael Bay's newest explosion fest.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
How the World was Made: Native American Symbolism
Reading this story is like throwing me back five years to sixth grade, where our... English class, I believe? was assigned to create a story that explained how a certain animal acquired its most notable feature. I was paired with my friend, Blake, and together we explored the idea of how a beaver got its tail. I won't go into details, as it I'll just be rattling on (but I will say it involved waffles, a hook hand, and temporary blindness); but I said this to bring me to my next point: "How the World was Made" embodies this principle. While explaining the natural world, it teaches lessons and values that allow children to progress smoothly to adulthood. In this particular story, however, not as many lessons are taught, whereas explanations are abundant.
In the beginning, the world is floating in a sea of water, suspended by the four cords hanging down from the "sky vault". Briefly exploring humanity's ultimate fear of the unknown and ultimate end, the story explains how, after all things have died and the earth has grown old, the cords will break and the earth will sink to the depths of the water it resides. All will be water again--perhaps a symbol of rebirth. Water is adaptable, and flows as the bringer of all life. This great sea of water houses many mysteries of the past, and though it is the creator and holder of the world the Native Americans live in, it is ultimately their final resting place. But even as the earth sinks into its depths, so does the beginning of a new age begin.
As time goes on and the animals above the arch of sky become curious of what the water houses, they send a water beetle to explore its depths. As it explores, it stirs up mud that eventually hardens to create the earth. During this time, many different events unfold that causes it to become what it is today, and when the animals finally descended to the earth, they placed the sun in the sky and had it set on a track. It was too low, however, as it burned the red crawfish's shell. This spoiled his meat, keeping the Cherokee from eating it. Obviously, this event is a lesson taught to the young in order to discourage them from eating crawfish meat so as not to hurt them (though I'm not quite so sure on what repercussions would materialize out of its ingestion).
A brief intermission occurs as the narrator goes on to explain the existence of an "underworld" that resides on the other side of the world. It is viewed merely as a different, unknown place, however, rather than the Underworld of ancient Greek mythology which houses the dead. To reach the world, one must follow the waters from the mountains and enter the springs, followed by a guide from the underworld while fasting. This break in continuity is, at first glance, hard to really realize its reason to be included. I see this as a way of whetting the reader's--and listener's, at the time--curiosity. While it explains everything, it includes an allusion to the unknown while stating the complicated process into reaching this enigmatic land. Perhaps back then, it gave the listener something to ruminate, while also allowing he or she to anticipate a new story.
The story comes to a conclusion, telling of how animals were decided upon to see which ones will be nocturnal. After this, man is at last introduced. A brother and sister exist, and the man strikes his sister with a fish in order to spur her into multiplying. As time goes on and multiplication proves to be too much, it is made that a woman can have a child only once a year. With this, the story concludes.
As a last note, I'll say this: I was completely dumbfounded by the fact that the brother hit his sister with a fish. What was the point? I knew there had to be one, so I decided to Google me up some symbolic meanings of fish, and lo and behold, I discovered the symbol of the fish. In general, the animal is associated with fertility, femininity, knowledge, and transformation. The collaboration of the fish and human creation easily makes sense, after this discovery.
In the beginning, the world is floating in a sea of water, suspended by the four cords hanging down from the "sky vault". Briefly exploring humanity's ultimate fear of the unknown and ultimate end, the story explains how, after all things have died and the earth has grown old, the cords will break and the earth will sink to the depths of the water it resides. All will be water again--perhaps a symbol of rebirth. Water is adaptable, and flows as the bringer of all life. This great sea of water houses many mysteries of the past, and though it is the creator and holder of the world the Native Americans live in, it is ultimately their final resting place. But even as the earth sinks into its depths, so does the beginning of a new age begin.
As time goes on and the animals above the arch of sky become curious of what the water houses, they send a water beetle to explore its depths. As it explores, it stirs up mud that eventually hardens to create the earth. During this time, many different events unfold that causes it to become what it is today, and when the animals finally descended to the earth, they placed the sun in the sky and had it set on a track. It was too low, however, as it burned the red crawfish's shell. This spoiled his meat, keeping the Cherokee from eating it. Obviously, this event is a lesson taught to the young in order to discourage them from eating crawfish meat so as not to hurt them (though I'm not quite so sure on what repercussions would materialize out of its ingestion).
A brief intermission occurs as the narrator goes on to explain the existence of an "underworld" that resides on the other side of the world. It is viewed merely as a different, unknown place, however, rather than the Underworld of ancient Greek mythology which houses the dead. To reach the world, one must follow the waters from the mountains and enter the springs, followed by a guide from the underworld while fasting. This break in continuity is, at first glance, hard to really realize its reason to be included. I see this as a way of whetting the reader's--and listener's, at the time--curiosity. While it explains everything, it includes an allusion to the unknown while stating the complicated process into reaching this enigmatic land. Perhaps back then, it gave the listener something to ruminate, while also allowing he or she to anticipate a new story.
The story comes to a conclusion, telling of how animals were decided upon to see which ones will be nocturnal. After this, man is at last introduced. A brother and sister exist, and the man strikes his sister with a fish in order to spur her into multiplying. As time goes on and multiplication proves to be too much, it is made that a woman can have a child only once a year. With this, the story concludes.
As a last note, I'll say this: I was completely dumbfounded by the fact that the brother hit his sister with a fish. What was the point? I knew there had to be one, so I decided to Google me up some symbolic meanings of fish, and lo and behold, I discovered the symbol of the fish. In general, the animal is associated with fertility, femininity, knowledge, and transformation. The collaboration of the fish and human creation easily makes sense, after this discovery.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Just a Quick Message
I understand this is a school blog, but I just wanted to show this pretty cool picture I just stumbled...
Timon and Pumba:
Timon and Pumba:
Symbolism in J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye
I've noticed (out of the small portion of my classmates that have actually written a blog post as of now) that Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea is receiving a lot of attention--and rightfully so! It's pretty chocked full of symbolism and imagery, and it's the perfect candidate for anything pertaining to an analysis of symbolism and imagery. Obviously, it would be stupid of me to choose something else to write about, right? Well, being the pretentious and attention-seeking teenager I am, I decided to choose The Catcher in the Rye instead.
First and foremost, I'll start off with the name of the main character, Holden Caulfield. In my research of the novel, I acquired information on the actual term "caul". A caul is actually a thin membrane that covers the head of a fetus during development. Obviously, considering Holden's inability to truly let go of childhood and pursue into the world of adulthood, this part of his name could be considered his ignorance towards the world. Not only that, but during Holden's escapade around New York City, he is completely unaware of the fact that he is suffering from a mental breakdown. While on their date, Sally continuously tells Holden to quit yelling, while Holden is completely oblivious and responds believing that he is talking in a normal tone.
One of the most poignant pieces of symbolism in the novel is Holden's red hunting hat, however; but what is most interesting about it is that, while it has ear flaps and is meant specifically to warm one as they wear it, Holden only seems to wear it while safely alone. Even while slowly making his way through the cold of winter, he thinks not to wear the hat as a necessary accessory, but only as an individual's distinction. Ackley makes a comment towards Holden's hat earlier in the novel, stating that every hunter in his home town used to wear those as they shot animals. Holden, in desperate retaliation, distinguishes from the rest by doing one thing: eliminating any kind of potential enemy to his individualism.
"This is a people shooting hat . . . I shoot people in this hat."
As the novel progresses, the reader learns that Holden wishes only to be the catcher in the rye; to save children from the fall into adulthood. Thriving off the ignorance of childhood and knowing (or at least he thinks he does) first hand about the adult world, he idolizes the value of childhood. Phoebe, his younger sister, is the largest flaw in his idealized view of the world. She represents the perfect child, yet she knows the value of aging and growing. Holden, in hopes that she will take his place as the catcher, gives Phoebe the hat. Yet later on in the novel, Phoebe returns the hat to Holden and exhibits the perfect look into his romanticized version of the world. Phoebe, as it turns out, seems to know what Holden needs. Though she denied the offer of being the catcher, she allows Holden to save her one time; if only to have him truly happy at least once.
Another strong piece of symbolism in the novel is The Museum of Natural History. Holden remarks of how odd and frightened he seems to feel any time he is in it. He views the fact that, when anyone takes a visit to the museum, nothing at all has changed except for themselves. Already known is Holden's ultimate fear of growing up, and so his being in the museum itself is a symbol for the undeniable truth that, no matter what, time will continue. Holden is no exception.
First and foremost, I'll start off with the name of the main character, Holden Caulfield. In my research of the novel, I acquired information on the actual term "caul". A caul is actually a thin membrane that covers the head of a fetus during development. Obviously, considering Holden's inability to truly let go of childhood and pursue into the world of adulthood, this part of his name could be considered his ignorance towards the world. Not only that, but during Holden's escapade around New York City, he is completely unaware of the fact that he is suffering from a mental breakdown. While on their date, Sally continuously tells Holden to quit yelling, while Holden is completely oblivious and responds believing that he is talking in a normal tone.
One of the most poignant pieces of symbolism in the novel is Holden's red hunting hat, however; but what is most interesting about it is that, while it has ear flaps and is meant specifically to warm one as they wear it, Holden only seems to wear it while safely alone. Even while slowly making his way through the cold of winter, he thinks not to wear the hat as a necessary accessory, but only as an individual's distinction. Ackley makes a comment towards Holden's hat earlier in the novel, stating that every hunter in his home town used to wear those as they shot animals. Holden, in desperate retaliation, distinguishes from the rest by doing one thing: eliminating any kind of potential enemy to his individualism.
"This is a people shooting hat . . . I shoot people in this hat."
As the novel progresses, the reader learns that Holden wishes only to be the catcher in the rye; to save children from the fall into adulthood. Thriving off the ignorance of childhood and knowing (or at least he thinks he does) first hand about the adult world, he idolizes the value of childhood. Phoebe, his younger sister, is the largest flaw in his idealized view of the world. She represents the perfect child, yet she knows the value of aging and growing. Holden, in hopes that she will take his place as the catcher, gives Phoebe the hat. Yet later on in the novel, Phoebe returns the hat to Holden and exhibits the perfect look into his romanticized version of the world. Phoebe, as it turns out, seems to know what Holden needs. Though she denied the offer of being the catcher, she allows Holden to save her one time; if only to have him truly happy at least once.
Another strong piece of symbolism in the novel is The Museum of Natural History. Holden remarks of how odd and frightened he seems to feel any time he is in it. He views the fact that, when anyone takes a visit to the museum, nothing at all has changed except for themselves. Already known is Holden's ultimate fear of growing up, and so his being in the museum itself is a symbol for the undeniable truth that, no matter what, time will continue. Holden is no exception.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Introduction
First and foremost, I'd like to introduce myself to anyone not from my school that's reading this blog--or if you are from my school and don't know me. My name's Drew. I'm writing in this blog for Mr. Langley's English class. In it will be thoughts and feelings about anything having to do with what's going on in my class. Other than that, there's not much else to say. I'll get onto symbolism about The Catcher in the Rye or The Old Man and the Sea in my next post.
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