About a week before I got my copy of The Great Gatsby, one of my favorite writers commented on how it wasn't really all that great. It was just a quick comment, not a snide remark or anything, and even complimented Fitzgerald, but it gave me my doubts. Feeling a bit cheated by the almighty powers of AP Comp, I resigned myself to reading Fitzgerald's fiction.
And you know where I'm going with this, but I have to say it anyway--I love this book. It's this beautiful mixed bag of sweet and shallow and snarky plot and people that leaves me simultaneously delighted and uncomfortable. Yes, The Great Gatsby is full of empty conversations and superficial characters, awesome alliteration and all, but it confronts you with a force that is undeniably human. It seems that all of my favorite books have given me that emotion at least once.
With all these "America Is..." presentations, I thought about Gatsby. He is the American Dream personified. He rose from poor obscurity into money's limelight. Gatsby had it all, except for Daisy, and so he shifted his priorities from the present to the past. To me, Daisy seems to demonstrate the "good old days"--charming and innocent, easily able to rivet you with (ridiculous) words, and full of promise and potential. When Gatsby tried to return to the past through any price, any risk, he ran into consequences. If America only focuses on what was instead of what could be, there's no doubt that She will fall.
I also enjoyed Fitzgerald's Wilson character. A poor man among the ashes of industry whose wife goes after the very man keeping their income on tenterhooks--it reminded me how America feeds on others. Our claim to capitalism keeps us assured that we are doing it for their economy, to help them, really. However, that's a load of crap--we're just using them for our own ends. And when those places revolt, we won’t hesitate to shove the blame aside to save our own skins.
On that cheery note, thanks for reading, and may Dr. T.J. Eckleburg be with you!
(If you're feeling especially literate or curious or bored, check out one of my favorite writer's stuff here!)
Monday, February 22, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Independence
On these sacred documents in which Providence has rightly blessed, we declare one thing: a renewed and reaffirmed vivification without the curling webs of secondary education to squander precious time.
It is only just and right to rectify that time spent in a morning’s precarious beginnings. Drugged from warm cloths and pompous pillows, our youths have again and again subjected themselves to the injustices of early morns coupled with exacting education. In those hours whence sleep is most required, our youths are wronged, kept languor and listless, longing for nothing more than a few deserved hours rest. Is it such a sin to bring salvation to these children from their time oft demanded in the doldrums of mathematics and pop quizzes?
Nay! For what man, woman, or child does not long for a minute more of comfort and warmth before partaking in the day-to-day delirium these early mornings hath wrought? Nay, not one could rightly raise his hand and exclaim his love for this monstrous monotony without betraying truth. Not one could sing praises to those who built the temple of tedious testing before ten in the morning. Not one could honestly deny the promise, the peace, the purity of two hours more sleep. Not one.
But the asinine and extreme declare that the zombie-like appearance of our youth are for the good of all. Blasphemous, they ignore how they have become the profiler to our youth, cutting them into ‘perfect’ form, ready to mold our children into ashen-faced employers of a future none are certain of. Those in power, forgoing the health of the many for the prosperity of the few, ought to pry away from beloved beds at the shrill shriek of an alarm clock before casting damnation upon our youth.
So again, there is none we are more certain of than the Declaration of Independence from the pagan capitalistic worshipping of days begun too soon for too little. It is our Honor, our Duty, our Promise to edify the very foundations of our days before they are nothing more than the ghosts of hope.
It is only just and right to rectify that time spent in a morning’s precarious beginnings. Drugged from warm cloths and pompous pillows, our youths have again and again subjected themselves to the injustices of early morns coupled with exacting education. In those hours whence sleep is most required, our youths are wronged, kept languor and listless, longing for nothing more than a few deserved hours rest. Is it such a sin to bring salvation to these children from their time oft demanded in the doldrums of mathematics and pop quizzes?
Nay! For what man, woman, or child does not long for a minute more of comfort and warmth before partaking in the day-to-day delirium these early mornings hath wrought? Nay, not one could rightly raise his hand and exclaim his love for this monstrous monotony without betraying truth. Not one could sing praises to those who built the temple of tedious testing before ten in the morning. Not one could honestly deny the promise, the peace, the purity of two hours more sleep. Not one.
But the asinine and extreme declare that the zombie-like appearance of our youth are for the good of all. Blasphemous, they ignore how they have become the profiler to our youth, cutting them into ‘perfect’ form, ready to mold our children into ashen-faced employers of a future none are certain of. Those in power, forgoing the health of the many for the prosperity of the few, ought to pry away from beloved beds at the shrill shriek of an alarm clock before casting damnation upon our youth.
So again, there is none we are more certain of than the Declaration of Independence from the pagan capitalistic worshipping of days begun too soon for too little. It is our Honor, our Duty, our Promise to edify the very foundations of our days before they are nothing more than the ghosts of hope.
You are BEAUTIFUL
Lately, in AP Comp, we've been talking about different views of America. There is so much negativity ignited just by how people look. I think that is something brought on Americans by Americans even today. So I don't think I'm the only one bothered by modern society's emphasis on putting people down--especially us, girls. There is so much hate, so much sadness, that it breaks my heart.
We need to stop it, together, but I don't think that can happen without you realizing a few things first.
You are funny--
You are brilliant--
You are gorgeous--
Just the way you are.
You may not believe me, but it's true.
So smile and check out operationbeautiful.com!
Also, givesmehope.com is also a gem. Check that out too if you ever need a smile. ;) Let's stop the hate. There are more things to be concerned about than how people look.
We need to stop it, together, but I don't think that can happen without you realizing a few things first.
You are funny--
You are brilliant--
You are gorgeous--
Just the way you are.
You may not believe me, but it's true.
So smile and check out operationbeautiful.com!
Also, givesmehope.com is also a gem. Check that out too if you ever need a smile. ;) Let's stop the hate. There are more things to be concerned about than how people look.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
National Novel Writing Month
November has arrived. For students, this means Thanksgiving, holiday debates, growing guts, falling leaves, and exams. For many, November also signifies writing--or, more specifically, writing 50k in a month.
Don't freak out. It's just National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. This "is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved." NaNoWriMo opens its literary doors to anyone with an internet connection, ideas, and a pulse. It's free, though donations are welcomed, and it houses a great community of people all over the world who just want to write.
I won NaNoWriMo in '08 at the expense of both a plot and a point. I made it past the 50k line, verbs and adjectives and flowery prose in my wake. What scares most people is the number. 50,000 seems huge--er, is huge. How can you write that in a month? First, shut up your inner-critic and let loose all the words you can. Don't edit, don't revise, don't toss that chapter out because it's irrelevant and made of suck. When it comes to your NaNo writing, it's about quantity, not quality. NaNoWriMo isn't about churning out great works in thirty days, it's about letting yourself take risks in writing, to construct raw worlds of literature without an inner-critic nitpicking every three seconds. Wait until December for that.
So, anyway, I'm just curious to see if anyone else is trying NaNo this year. You might only make it to 15,000, more fiction than most ever write, or you might win and spend the following six months editing, editing, editing. If you like your novel, you can get a free copy in book form of your choosing. Do your writing a favor and check NaNoWriMo out.
Don't freak out. It's just National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. This "is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved." NaNoWriMo opens its literary doors to anyone with an internet connection, ideas, and a pulse. It's free, though donations are welcomed, and it houses a great community of people all over the world who just want to write.
I won NaNoWriMo in '08 at the expense of both a plot and a point. I made it past the 50k line, verbs and adjectives and flowery prose in my wake. What scares most people is the number. 50,000 seems huge--er, is huge. How can you write that in a month? First, shut up your inner-critic and let loose all the words you can. Don't edit, don't revise, don't toss that chapter out because it's irrelevant and made of suck. When it comes to your NaNo writing, it's about quantity, not quality. NaNoWriMo isn't about churning out great works in thirty days, it's about letting yourself take risks in writing, to construct raw worlds of literature without an inner-critic nitpicking every three seconds. Wait until December for that.
So, anyway, I'm just curious to see if anyone else is trying NaNo this year. You might only make it to 15,000, more fiction than most ever write, or you might win and spend the following six months editing, editing, editing. If you like your novel, you can get a free copy in book form of your choosing. Do your writing a favor and check NaNoWriMo out.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
War Stories and Rambling
(I've got to warn you of two things. One, I read ahead, so read at risk of spoilers. Two, I'm basically rambling, but it is rambling concerning AP Comp, so here we go. Enjoy if you can, haha.)
I'm really not sure on my thoughts, so let's make one thing clear, shall we? I hate war stories. I hate blood and bone breaking through skin; I hate bombs going off forty years after the battle; I hate seeing broken families pray for dead brothers; I hate boy soldiers shooting other boys soldiers in the jungles of Vietnam, the snows of Stalingrad, the hills of a divided America. Watching old men cry over bullet holes and Dear John letters breaks my heart. Rage and terror and pure, unbridled sadness rap at my ribcage just acknowledging what war is.
But what and why and how are war and the stories it leaves behind? It was chapter seven of The Things They Carried that took my string of reasons and pulled it apart. Wars stories are so many things, hate included, and O'Brien's prose pulled me along, breathing the words in and out and breaking down and building up what war stories are. Throughout the reading I realized, in the words of Rat Kiley, that I was a dumb cooze. I abhorred war from the get go, sometimes ignoring the very human, very real side of it, thinking it nearly pretty when printed on paper. I may not appreciate people killing each other for reasons they don't understand in a war that's so tangled up in hidden agendas that it's nearly a blessing that the media is doling out news and not the truth, but I can't just turn my nose up at it either.
"A true war story is never about war." I'm figuring that out as I devour O'Brien's words. I've never watched my best friend die or had a leech latch onto my tongue, I've never been drafted, ordered to fire, charge, bomb, kill, rinse and repeat. I hope I never do. I hate the pain that war presents us, but, for the first time, I'm starting to see that there's more there than negativity. I haven't figured it out yet, and I doubt I ever will, but maybe The Things They Carried will leave me less of a cooze than I was during chapter one.
I'm really not sure on my thoughts, so let's make one thing clear, shall we? I hate war stories. I hate blood and bone breaking through skin; I hate bombs going off forty years after the battle; I hate seeing broken families pray for dead brothers; I hate boy soldiers shooting other boys soldiers in the jungles of Vietnam, the snows of Stalingrad, the hills of a divided America. Watching old men cry over bullet holes and Dear John letters breaks my heart. Rage and terror and pure, unbridled sadness rap at my ribcage just acknowledging what war is.
But what and why and how are war and the stories it leaves behind? It was chapter seven of The Things They Carried that took my string of reasons and pulled it apart. Wars stories are so many things, hate included, and O'Brien's prose pulled me along, breathing the words in and out and breaking down and building up what war stories are. Throughout the reading I realized, in the words of Rat Kiley, that I was a dumb cooze. I abhorred war from the get go, sometimes ignoring the very human, very real side of it, thinking it nearly pretty when printed on paper. I may not appreciate people killing each other for reasons they don't understand in a war that's so tangled up in hidden agendas that it's nearly a blessing that the media is doling out news and not the truth, but I can't just turn my nose up at it either.
"A true war story is never about war." I'm figuring that out as I devour O'Brien's words. I've never watched my best friend die or had a leech latch onto my tongue, I've never been drafted, ordered to fire, charge, bomb, kill, rinse and repeat. I hope I never do. I hate the pain that war presents us, but, for the first time, I'm starting to see that there's more there than negativity. I haven't figured it out yet, and I doubt I ever will, but maybe The Things They Carried will leave me less of a cooze than I was during chapter one.
Student Protesters and Change
This article certainly got me thinking. I was amazed by the Madison protests that we watched in class, but this article saddened me. Before 2008 I felt any number of emotions towards our government, our way of living, our country's stand in the world--but velleity was at the forefront. When I felt the spark of change I dosed it myself, believing I had no right to try and change the world when I couldn’t even ace a math test. It was the campaigns and my personal connection to them, for all their ridiculousness, that chucked that way of thinking out of my mind.
In a time when messages can appear in our hands instantly, I was confused by the writer's stance on technology. In a recent Time magazine, there was an article on how people rallied in D.C. for gay rights. They used Facebook to get the word out. The difference, I think, between Smith's students and these gay rights advocates was only that the latter actually cared. You can fill a person's head with whatever war info you want. You can shove newspapers under their nose, keep the TV on the news, or whatever. They still won't care in most cases. A personal connection can inspire far more concern than death tolls and war stories that don’t relate to the average teenager.
I was somewhat irked when “Lampert Smith: Times have changed for students protesters” pointed out that people preferred to gaze longingly at a screen than address the giant gorillas in the room. I can understand, I can empathize, but I can’t defend that kind of apathy. But as Buhle mentioned, times have changed—society, humanity, feelings—and it’s evident everywhere. A simple change in the American mindset could do wonders. Don't expect people to do things for you. If you want something, don't just sit on your butt and pray; don't complain about a president who's not working fast enough, hard enough. Get up and do something. Turn your thought into words into action into change. Thinking can be tough, doing something can be painful, but when you change the world for the better you'll be glad you miss that Grey's Anatomy episode.
In a time when messages can appear in our hands instantly, I was confused by the writer's stance on technology. In a recent Time magazine, there was an article on how people rallied in D.C. for gay rights. They used Facebook to get the word out. The difference, I think, between Smith's students and these gay rights advocates was only that the latter actually cared. You can fill a person's head with whatever war info you want. You can shove newspapers under their nose, keep the TV on the news, or whatever. They still won't care in most cases. A personal connection can inspire far more concern than death tolls and war stories that don’t relate to the average teenager.
I was somewhat irked when “Lampert Smith: Times have changed for students protesters” pointed out that people preferred to gaze longingly at a screen than address the giant gorillas in the room. I can understand, I can empathize, but I can’t defend that kind of apathy. But as Buhle mentioned, times have changed—society, humanity, feelings—and it’s evident everywhere. A simple change in the American mindset could do wonders. Don't expect people to do things for you. If you want something, don't just sit on your butt and pray; don't complain about a president who's not working fast enough, hard enough. Get up and do something. Turn your thought into words into action into change. Thinking can be tough, doing something can be painful, but when you change the world for the better you'll be glad you miss that Grey's Anatomy episode.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Animal Cruelty
(For those of you not in 3rd block AP Comp, we read a very one-sided article on animal testing and how it’s wrong, cruel, etc. This is a rather delayed response to the conversation held in class.)
First off, I’ll admit that I may be biased, that my mind is often swayed by both personal experiences and a trait where my logos fall to my pathos and ethos. However, my opinion is just as valuable as any. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for animal testing. I’m diabetic. When I was seven, my family rushed me to the hospital where I, phobia of needles and all, could only survive if I was injected with insulin. I won’t go into the details of diabetes, but insulin was made available to people through animal testing (pigs, if I recall correctly). So, yeah, I get the point for animal testing—it saved my life.
Needless cruelty is, however, needless. While this article was not the most eloquent that I have ever read and lacked in citations, it struck a cord. There are people today that do NOT give animals the compassion they deserve. Waffle with me if you like, call me a slave to PETA, tell me to go hug a tree, or what have you, but I’ve been exposed to enough injustices. We as a race often see ourselves as the creation almighty, ruler of the earth, and Darwin’s grand contender. Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, but we don’t need to disregard other living beings just because we wrote ourselves some books, constructed concrete cities, wasted earth's natural resources, and use a whole 2% of our brains.
We set the standard for what is or isn't worth something, what does or doesn't qualify as knowledgeable. Throughout history, certain human beings were treated as—to put it nicely—utter crap. We've had discussions on the holocaust (which, mind you, incited anger when disregarded, but eyes rolled at animal cruelty) and the mistreatment of blacks in America and the general disregard for women. In the Holocaust, humans were experimented on by ‘Doctor’ Mengele. It wasn’t for beauty products, sure, but it was painful all the same. But, then again, it was done in the name of science—therefore it must be okay. The experiments were done on lesser beings, therefore it's fine. Those Jews and Roma were people though, with feelings and the ability to feel pain. I'm not trying to personify animals like Gopnik's daughter, but if you slap your dog upside the head, you cannot deny they'll feel it.
Anyway, that's my two cents. I'm not saying we should cease all animal experimentation, just that humanity could cut back on the needless cruelty. It'll be hard, considering our species, but not impossible.
First off, I’ll admit that I may be biased, that my mind is often swayed by both personal experiences and a trait where my logos fall to my pathos and ethos. However, my opinion is just as valuable as any. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for animal testing. I’m diabetic. When I was seven, my family rushed me to the hospital where I, phobia of needles and all, could only survive if I was injected with insulin. I won’t go into the details of diabetes, but insulin was made available to people through animal testing (pigs, if I recall correctly). So, yeah, I get the point for animal testing—it saved my life.
Needless cruelty is, however, needless. While this article was not the most eloquent that I have ever read and lacked in citations, it struck a cord. There are people today that do NOT give animals the compassion they deserve. Waffle with me if you like, call me a slave to PETA, tell me to go hug a tree, or what have you, but I’ve been exposed to enough injustices. We as a race often see ourselves as the creation almighty, ruler of the earth, and Darwin’s grand contender. Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t, but we don’t need to disregard other living beings just because we wrote ourselves some books, constructed concrete cities, wasted earth's natural resources, and use a whole 2% of our brains.
We set the standard for what is or isn't worth something, what does or doesn't qualify as knowledgeable. Throughout history, certain human beings were treated as—to put it nicely—utter crap. We've had discussions on the holocaust (which, mind you, incited anger when disregarded, but eyes rolled at animal cruelty) and the mistreatment of blacks in America and the general disregard for women. In the Holocaust, humans were experimented on by ‘Doctor’ Mengele. It wasn’t for beauty products, sure, but it was painful all the same. But, then again, it was done in the name of science—therefore it must be okay. The experiments were done on lesser beings, therefore it's fine. Those Jews and Roma were people though, with feelings and the ability to feel pain. I'm not trying to personify animals like Gopnik's daughter, but if you slap your dog upside the head, you cannot deny they'll feel it.
Anyway, that's my two cents. I'm not saying we should cease all animal experimentation, just that humanity could cut back on the needless cruelty. It'll be hard, considering our species, but not impossible.
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