A&B

LIST [i like] A
1- swimming
2- traveling
3- hoodies
4- whiskey
5- long necklaces
6- foreign cars
7- crocheting
8- texting
9- weather
10- sky
11- skateboarding
12- incense
13- exercise
14- splenda
15- gum
16- coffee
17- summertime
18- sleeping in
19- $
20- family/friends/boyfriend
21- singing
22- magic

LIST [i dislike] B
1- pricks
2- spoiled rich kids
3- pop music
4- sugar
5- carbonation
6- vodka
7- 8:00 classes
8- sexism
9- the prez
10- wars
11- memphis city schools
12- racism
13- gas prices
14- being robbed
15- popcorn
16- religion
17- temperatures below 40degrees
18- reading
19- Mississippi
20- excessive muggy days


A11 [is like] B8
Some people have sexist ideas about skateboarding. Although the number of male skaters far surpasses the number of female, this doesn't mean girls can't skate. It's also assumed that any girl who picks up skateboard is only doing it because her boyfriend does it or she just wants to seem cool; the first time she falls and busts her ass on the concrete she trashes her board never to return to the magical sport. Perhaps this was true back when skateboards first entered the world, but the number of females determined to skate is on the rise.

A4 [is not like] A5
Whiskey and long necklaces are not alike although I might misplace a necklace after drinking too much whiskey. I have liked them both for a long time and cannot decide which I favor more. Whiskey makes me talkative while my long necklaces sometime attract people to talk to me. The two mainly aren't alike because I began drinking long after I began wearing jewlery.

B5 [is like] B7
Carbonation is horrible for my skin and throat while 8:00 classes are horrible for my sleeping schedule. Here's a second comparison- Carbonation is in soft drinks. Most soft drinks contain caffeine. Without caffeine I wouldn't ever make it to my 8:00 classes. A shower usually wakes me up halfway, but a fat cup of coffee finishes the process.


Writing Commonalities
I have the ability to find a correlation between any two objects, activities, or beliefs. Although it's not necessarily a direct connection, in the end I can always relate them. It's much harder for me to describe how two unrelated things are different other than the obvious. This may be because I can find too many similarities which obstructs me from decifering their differences. I also like using big words. I like to sound intelligent. Eloquent vocabulary takes up space, but I always make sure I know what the words mean. Otherwise that defeats the purpose. Sometimes I have trouble elaborating for pages and pages. I can get jumpy in my essays as well. Oh wait, I'm doing it again.

A-HA

My a-ha moment would probably be when I realized I want to be a meteorologist. I don't care how hard it's going to be to reach this goal because I'm pretty damn determined. Finding a grad school that's close is going to be a tad difficult though. I refuse to go to Mississippi State.

Anyway.... I pretty much came to this realization at a young age. I always liked being outside even though I get horrible allergies come springtime (or cats). But I deal with it; being outdoors is just too stupifying sometimes. I love the sunrise, the sunset, the clouds, the colors, the sun's rays streaking across the skyline or slipping through the thick clouds. It's just incredible. Then I've always wanted to know how the sky worked. Why's it blue? How can you predict the temperature? How do you measure the wind? Anything about the sky and weather, I had to know. And I still do. Dave Brown, here I come.

Earliest Memory

I haven’t always been a daredevil when it comes to amusement parks. But now if you show me a new, insane, twisted thrill ride to get on, I’ll be sure to do whatever is necessary in order to do so. I have to admit, though, some of those extreme, ultimate rides like Six Flags’s Mr. Freeze and the Mid-South Fair’s Sling Shot required me to psych myself up quite a bit beforehand. But in the end I always managed to conquer whatever doubts or fears I had in my mind. There is one out of an abundance of memories early in my childhood in which the “psyching uppage” particularly stands out.

When I was five, I was already about forty-eight inches tall. It just so happened that the height prerequisite for admission to any of the rides at the Mid-South Fair/Libertyland collaboration was just that. I was ecstatic. There was one ride I had longed to get on ever since I could walk--the Ring of Fire. Sure, now that I look back on it, it is not so terrifying in appearance, but just take a minute to imagine that massive loop at the mere age of five. Pretty intense, huh? My mom was a thrill-seeker like me, but I suppose that is how genes usually work. She agreed to ride the Ring of Fire with me though she had already been on it a million times. I worked up the courage and finally boarded the ride.

It started slowly, so I was soon overcome with a feeling of both comfort and reassurance. My mom was already screaming like she does on every other thrill ride. Suddenly I remembered how I had seen the people dangling upside down, yelling at the top of their lungs all the years prior. I tried my best to suppress the thought as the ride crept higher and higher while moving from side to side along the circular track. The higher we would go in the loop, the more the butterflies tickled my stomach. Eventually we made a revolution around the entire loop. It wasn’t so bad after all; I had conquered yet another ride. Everyone around me was shouting.
They were having a great time and so was I.

Another memory soon inched its way into my mind before the ride was over. I had completely forgotten that the operators of the ride like to hold people upside down at the top of the ring indefinitely. This one I could not suppress, and it scared the hell out of me. Then it happened. It seemed as though we were hanging up there forever. I wasn’t used to staying upside down; generally rides just do not do that.

As I looked down at the crowd of unknown faces, I began to feel the pole that I had tightly clenched between my hands all of sudden become slippery. The rest of my accomplices continued their shrieking. Even my mom did not notice the slippery situation at hand; her yelps just meshed with all the others. My miniature five-year-old frame was too small to be properly contained in the ride. I was not even touching the black, padded seat anymore. Knowing this, I held on for dear life hoping that the operators would soon quit unintentionally tormenting me. The ride did not appear to have the over-the-shoulders security harnesses as other loop-di-loop rides do. I came to find that these were later installed. But the thought of slipping out of the Ring of Fire haunts my memory forever. That was the day I literally almost died on a ride at the fair.

Family Ritual

Every year my family comes together from all parts of the country for one reason--Halloween. It is only the best holiday of the year. Sure, Thanksgiving and Christmas are jolly and filling, but Halloween by far surpasses them both. There is a completely different mood around the end of October. Some find it creepy and evil, but my relatives cannot get enough of this fine particular fun-filled evening.

We all dress up and deck my grandparents' house in all the most outrageous decorations we can get our hands on--glow-in-the-dark spider webs, skeletons, zombies, spiders that chase you, crystal balls with talking heads inside, and fog machines. We definitely also have the festive thriller music and bowls choc full of gobs and gobs of sweet, sour, gooey, chewy, chocolately, nutty, minty, dilectable candies.

Since we do not get together around the remainder of the year's holidays, my family goes ahead and celebrates them on the thirty-first as well. The kids get all the candy their hearts so desire while the adults cheerfully booze it up near my grandparents' wet bar in the living room. Although turkey is not our main dish for our partial Thanksgiving dinner, everyone leaves so full that loosening their belts is a must. Since it is also a partial family Christmas, all members receive a few gifts in addition. The little ones get the most, of course. Everyone leaves happy.

Things Fall Apart Reflection

Chinua Achbe’s Things Fall Apart is an African tale based on the lives of the Ibo peoples and the changes which come about in their villages, but more specifically for a bold man named Okonkwo. There are two definite sides visible in the text: the colonizing British and the already colonized Nigerians. The Africans clearly do not want to be colonized by the British, but the British apparently see things much differently, ultimately leading to major conflict.

In the village of Umuofia the people are well established and have their own accepted ways of life. They worship and fear many gods and spirits such as Agbala, Ani, Ekwensu, and Ogwugwu in addition to each inhabitant’s personal chi. The head god of all Ibo gods is Chukwu, who is believed to be their version of Jesus Christ. The priests and priestesses advise the people and take care of birth and death issues and everything else imaginable to simply appease the gods. There appear to be extremely high birth rates and infant mortality rates which are generally hard on the women, specifically Okonkwo’s third wife, Ekwefi. On average the men have approximately 15 to 20 children in a lifetime. The gods decide whether the children will survive or perish within the first six years of life. Ogwugwu is the evil spirit which the villagers consider to be the reason for so many of the children’s illnesses and deaths; it possesses them to be reborn to the same mother over and over again only to die young over and over again.

When Okonkwo unintentionally kills a young boy he, his three wives, and children are exiled for seven years to his motherland, Mbanta. Luckily he has a good friend back in Umuofia named Obierika who takes care of his yams after his compound there is burned to the ground. When Okonkwo and his family return from the exile, he comes to find things have changed considerably. The white man is no longer a leper named Amadi. The British have come to settle.

The imperial British first come to surrounding villages such as Abame. They shoot the villagers in the midst of participating in the local market completely catching them off guard. Okonkwo is severely angered by what he heard of this, but deems all those specific Nigerians to be fools for not having their guns and machetes on hand. Soon enough, the British make their way to Umuofia, first establishing a church. Ironically the people allow the church one plot of land—the Evil Forest. Their way of life is somewhat shifted when they come to realize this land is not so evil at all. A handful of the villagers decide to leave the clan when they see that the British peoples, especially the head of the church, Mr. Kiaga, are not dead within a week of its building. The things this handful once believed of spirits, gods, and evils were beginning to seem false and unnecessary. Mr. Kiaga and a man named Mr. Brown offer them religious enlightenment and instruction. They teach them the word of God, not of false the gods which were presently embodied in pieces of wood and stone. These villagers now know the Lord and his son who they refer to as Jesu Kristi.

Okonkwo and numerous stronger believers refuse to give in and accept the teachings of this Mr. Kiaga, Mr. Brown, or those of Mr. Brown’s successor, Reverend James Smith. There is soon continuous conflict because these Nigerians simply do not desire to have their values and beliefs tarnished by the white man’s religion. They neither know what Christianity is nor do they honestly care. I think this is still typical of older generations today. No elder wants his firm views to be threatened or changed just because another person claims it is right. I say, to each his own opinion, belief, and ideology.

It is such a travesty that the British were as ruthless as they were in coming and taking over the Ibo people who they feel are “primitive” and must be educated which the book later explains. These people already have set ways which clearly work for their culture. Why would the British want to come in and annihilate their heritage? Why would they try to eradicate their customs and their ways of life? Religious enlightenment is one thing. The instructors followed the ways of God unconditionally by treating their students humanely. But as far as the District Commissioner and the undesired court systems they organized in Nigeria, it’s just an abomination. I have no doubt in my mind that although the characters do not seem like they truly existed, the devastation of this situation is completely factual.

For centuries the dilemma has been Black versus White, so unfortunately this comes as no surprise. Things Fall Apart for the most part accurately presents the roots of this ongoing confrontation presented as the Ibos of Nigeria versus the power-hungry imperialist British.

The Black Death

Have you ever heard the children’s nursery rhyme “Ring Around the Rosie?” How about the term “Black Death?” Well, guess what? The two are directly related. By examining the widespread death, economic disaster, and social distress created by the Black Death during the Medieval period, the devastation of this pandemic disease is more easily understood.
The Black Death of the 14th century, famous for holding the highest death toll from any non-viral epidemic, wiped out between one- and two-thirds of the European population. (Black Death.html) The popular aforementioned chant “Ring Around the Rosie” was created to describe the widespread death among the inhabitants. It is as follows:
“Because of The first line evokes the round red rash that would break out on the skin of plague victims. The second line’s ‘pocket full of posies’ would have been a pocket in the garment of a victim filled with something fragrant, such as flowers that aimed to conceal the smell from the sores and the dying people. A second creative explanation for this line is that it referred to the purported belief that fresh-smelling flowers, nosegays, and pomanders would purify the air around them thus warding off disease. A third possibility
includes the idea that ‘posies’ are derived from an Old English word for pus, in which case the pocket would be referring to the swelling sore. ‘Ashes, ashes’ would refer to when people alive and dead were gathered up into piles and lit on fire in a belief that burning the diseased bodies would not allow the disease to spread. Several alternate endings to the song exist, one being: ‘atishoo, atishoo, we all fall down,’ interpreted as invoking the sneezing before ‘we all fall down,’ the eventual succumbing to death.” (Ring A Ring O’ Roses.html)
Some regions suffered more than others. For example, in only one year 45 to 75 percent of Florence Italy collapsed while 60 percent of Venice was wiped out in a period of 18 months (with a daily rate of five hundred to six hundred deaths at the peak). There was a 50 percent mortality rate at Avignon. “Long-term population loss was also instructive. Urban populations recovered quickly, in some cases within a couple of years, through immigration from the countryside because of increased opportunities in the cities. Rural population though, recovered itself slowly, for peasants left their farms for the cities.” (Knox 15.html)
A second aspect is the disaster which the Plague placed on the economy. “Malnutrition, poverty, disease and hunger, coupled with war, growing inflation and other economic concerns made Europe in the mid-fourteenth century ripe for tragedy… Economic historians like Fernand Braudel have concluded that Black Death exacerbated a recession in the European economy that had been under way since the beginning of the century. As a consequence, social and economic change greatly accelerated during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.” (Black Death.html)
In the cities, financial business became warped when debtors, their families, and their kinsmen nearly all fell victims to the plague. The creditors no longer had a means of collection. Consequently, the money was lost. Special machinery and mills would cease to run properly, but only a handful of townsmen could repair them. These men would most often be found dead due to the Black Death. Little or no construction was being done due to the loss of workers. Towns became desperate for this work to be completed and proposed excellent pay. The short-term effects of the rigorous labor shortage were increasing wages. The prices of numerous goods lowered in accordance with the mortality. To put it simply, the standard of living for the living went up. (Knox 16.html)
In the countryside, whole villages and farms felt the plague’s wrath as well. The only remaining survivors saw no point in sticking around, so they up and left these abandoned places. By the early 1400s Norwegian seamen rediscovered some of these villages and farms in Greenland only to find the remaining untamed cattle wandering aimlessly. Entire families died leaving whole homes barren. The remaining landlords were left to deal with labor shortages. Because of this shortage, they ceased to release their Serfs. (Knox 16.html) “As a result of depopulation, the nature of farming in some areas changed. In middle England, there was a move away from arable to pastoral farming which was less labour intensive. Lords leased out their land because rents had fallen and land that had been left was taken up and used to meet costs. Consequently, many labourers enjoyed higher standards of living and lords enjoyed greater profits, despite higher costs.” (Economy After Black Death.html)
Serfs wanted to get away from their lords so that they might enjoy the beauty of life amidst the grimness of death surrounding them. They left all the tilled land, crops, and animals as they were so those things eventually just died. (Knox 16.html)
There was no real law enforcement, so the people did as they pleased. “Bechini” were a group who ransacked houses, killed and sexually assaulted people. They wore red robes and masks which concealed all but their eyes. (Black Death: 1347-1350.html)
As far as social distress is concerned, it didn’t matter which social group a person was in or how much money they had when the Black Death hit; it was seemingly unstoppable. This is evidence that there was much social distress during that day and time. “The noted Florentine historian, Villani, wrote this: ‘And many lands and cities were made desolate. And the plague lasted until __________’ Villani left a blank at the end of the sentence, planning to fill in a date after the plague had abated. He never did. Villani died in 1348 from the plague.” (Knox 18.html)
Schools and other educational facilities closed due to the mass loss of life. At Cambridge University 16 out of the 40 professors fell victim. In the churches, priests, bishops, and successors all died leaving no one to hear the remaining populations confessions. The people were left in hopelessness. There was a lack of religion at this point because nobody could figure out why God would allow such terrible things to transpire. (Knox 18.html) “The plague was a serious blow to the Roman Catholic Church, Europe’s predominant religious institution at the time, and resulted in widespread persecution of minorities such as Jews, Muslims, foreigners, beggars and lepers. The uncertainty of daily survival created a general mood of morbidity influencing people to live for the moment.” (Black Death.html)
Many also assumed the end of the world was near. Courts and city counsels closed as well. Wills could not be proved genuine since there were so many. A name could be borrowed at any time for a quick profit from the remnants of the economy. (Knox.html) “Normal people were tormented by the threat of death, causing them to change their views on leisure, work, and art. Even children suffered.” (Black Death.html)
By now it is quite evident that the 14th century’s Black Death was indeed a mass surrounding of “black death.” After taking a look at the widespread death, economic disaster, and social distress, the ghastly epidemic could only bring back a plethora of horrific memories.

Foreign Mud Writing Assignment

According to Wikipedia, author Maurice Stewart Collis (1889-1973) was an apparent history buff during the course of his life. With this knowledge it is no surprise to find that the majority if not all of his published works are largely based on historical matters. Take Foreign Mud for example. Although the text is not a primary source, being that Collis was not living during the time frame highlighted, he managed to find first-hand accounts from those actually living in the period of Anglo-Chinese conflict. These documents, which could be articles from newspapers like the Chinese Repository, journals of those secretly assisting in the opium trade, or official letters transferred between countries, are carefully pieced together for effect and innumerably quoted throughout the book. As a whole Collis does not appear to take the side of either the British or the Chinese; he remains neutral, letting the reader alone decide which country seems to be more “in the right.” To the reader’s advantage, he fully expands on the views of both sides.
Collis takes the point of view of both the British and the Chinese, which allows the novel to be more intellectually challenging. He is basically saying to his audience, “Here’s what went down. Now you decide for yourself. Who was right? Were the consequences and penalties fair?”

The conflicts begin while Britain’s Lord Napier serves time in China to assist with the trade and foreign matters. The Chinese are so meticulous and uneasy about all the foreign merchants trying to establish trade with them, so Napier has to deal with all sorts of ridiculous Chinese rules and edicts constantly being issued. He is renamed Laboriously Vile because he is highly disproved of by the majority of the Chinese officials. But soon Napier falls extremely ill and dies a sudden, unexpected death.

Not long afterwards (December 1838, to be exact), the Chinese emperor appoints a native called Lin Tse-hsu as Imperial Commissioner. His job is to aid in the overthrowing of the drug traffic since the foreign devils refuse to cease delivering his poor citizens the addictive foreign mud regardless of edicts, fines, and a strangling. Lin’s answer to the emperor was this: “All could be accomplished by pressure; the Europeans at Canton were wholly in the power of the Empire; …they could be overawed and frightened into delivering up the whole store of their opium, both at Lintin and afloat; …they could be forced into a written undertaking to deal in opium no more [because if convicted in Chinese Courts, strangulation was in order].” (Collis 204-205) Commissioner Lin follows through these views with which the emperor is well pleased. Captain Elliot, the British’s current Chief Superintendent at Macao, is pressured by Lin to surrender all of the smuggled drug. Twenty-thousand chests are eventually surrendered, Lin disposes all of it by dissolving it in water which basically just empties out into the harbor. Then as promised, the port of Canton is reopened for trade.

Later a Chinese man is killed on shore while English and American sailors are present. Commissioner Lin makes it of the utmost importance that China be compensated for this loss by the loss of another. Trials are held, Thomas Tidder is found guilty of murder, but there is no hard evidence to ensure his conviction is fair. For this reason the captain refuses to allow the Chinese to take one of his men. “Captain Elliot, whose main duty had become the safe-guarding of all British subjects, held is to be unsafe for any of them to remain at Macao…On 21 August [1839] he issued a public notice advising the British to cross the bay to Hongkong and take refuge there on the merchant fleet…It was a great shock for such people to be told, in the hottest month of the year, to abandon their luxurious homes at a moment’s notice… [But] they were afraid to fall into Lin’s hands, knowing him to be elated by his recent success.” (Collis 243-244)

Eventually all the arising conflicts in China make their way back to Parliament in the form of letters and accidental leakage. The public soon becomes fully aware of the drug traffic and the Whigs and Tories go head to head for days in the great Commons debate. Each party does its best to appoint eloquent and persuasive persons to speak on matters such as morality, fairness, and war.

Ultimately there is a war. Actually quite a few wars are tied together and named in history as the Anglo-Chinese Opium Wars. The Chinese try and stand firm, but the British artillery and warships are far too overpowering. Captain Elliot is dismissed and succeeded by Sir Henry Pottinger who carries out all the goals Britain had intended on having accomplished once the wars had concluded. On 14 August 1841 demands had begun to be met: “[The Treaty of Nanking] was a dictated peace and forced the Chinese to grant everything the British had been asking for from the time of Lord Macartney in the eighteenth century, as well as give satisfaction for Lin’s seizure of the opium…Hongkong was ceded to the British Crown absolutely. In addition… Treaty Ports were opened--Canton, Amoy, Foochow, Ningpo, and Shanghai--where British merchants could reside with their wives permanently…and without being obliged to buy and sell through Hong merchants.” (Collis 307) Obviously enough, these were very detailed demands, but the Chinese fulfilled them nonetheless. They now respected British power, and the British soon began to enjoy the luxuries and comfort of living on true foreign mud.

To wrap it up, I cannot help but reiterate the fact that Collis has introduced these specifically selected occurrences during the time of the Opium Wars in such a non-biased and neutral manner. There is an abundance of factual evidence in the accounts collected. He does not give his personal opinion, which I would find almost impossible to accomplish within such a sizeable book.

Under the Influence- symbolism of cans and bottles

As the author mentioned, at the time the essay was written, some ten or fifteen million Americans shared his father's disease of alcoholism. As a child I used to see my own dad drink constantly. I'm not sure if he was an alcoholic or simply liked the taste of the drink, but there would always be a myriad of tallboys in the fridge when I'd come home from school. Every passing day I would see a beer slide its way into his hand as he sat on the recliner watching a football game or comedic movie, as he conversed with a buddy he had invited over, as he relaxed after getting off work. Every so often I would spy a sizeable bottle of Crown Royal lying around the house.
He really liked drinking on the holidays, but who doesn't? At annual family gatherings around Thanksgiving and Christmas the frothy beverages seemed to make the warm, comfortable atmosphere all the more bubbly. And as opposed to the author's father while drunk, my dad would transform into a stand-up comedian. He cracked jokes and checked people left and right never failing to make my relatives laugh hysterically. Although I was young back then, that didn't keep me from thinking my dad was amusing. He didn't have to be drunk to be funny; it just added on to the hilarity of his cool personality. He never got violent unless the wrong circumstances came about while he was drinking with a certain brother of his. After the first few incidents, however, this was avoided altogether.
His adoration for alcohol never really got in the way of my childhood either. And I say "never really" for a reason. In some ways booze did get in the way. Sometimes on random nights during the week he wouldn't even come home. Looking back I suppose that was a good thing since a DUI isn't too awesome. He was a good dad in most respects, always picking my sister and me up and throwing us high in the air so we would feel like we were flying, carrying us on his shoulders through the grocery store so we would feel like giants (and wouldn't have to walk), taking us with him to work just so we could spend more time together.
Then there’s my mom. She would stick to wine coolers and Smirnoff Ice on those giddy family-oriented holidays. It wasn’t until a few months ago actually that I finally discovered she had tasted liquor. Of course, unlike my dear old dad, she wasn’t a fan of Jack or Jose or any of their mouth-watering associates for that matter. My mom was always a more reserved sort of company. She loved to laugh at the crazy things my dad would come up with, but she was never the first to jump into the conversation and be wild and spontaneous as him. Basically she managed to have a great time regardless of the involvement of alcohol.
On a different note, this essay sort of scared me. Now that my dad doesn't live in the same state as me I no longer have a clue as to how much he might be drinking these days. He seemed kind of depressed when my mom told him she wanted a divorce (not because of alcoholism, mind you). It is a well known fact, however, that forms of depression may sometimes lead to alcohol or drug use and possible abuse in order to "ease the pain." The essay also worries me in the respect that alcohol is known for addictive properties, and I myself began consuming it in the tenth grade. I wouldn't necessarily say the piece makes me want to quit consuming my beloved whiskey altogether, but it definitely made me more clearly aware of the drink's potent and controlling power. And being the skeptic that I am (a see-it-to-believe-it type person), having read this first hand account from decades ago has truly caused me to be more wary of my consumptions.

Hedda Gabler

The first reactions I heard from others around campus on the subject of Hedda Gabler was that it wasn’t very good. People were saying they couldn’t relate to it and that it was too old-fashioned. A guy in my English class reiterated this fact when he told the class that on opening night it was packed, sold out, but that the audience didn’t react the way the cast or director expected. “They laughed when Hedda was displaying emotion. I mean, this is a melodrama not a comedy,” he said. The night I decided to see the play, there wasn’t as much laughter as I had anticipated which was a very good thing. Don’t get me wrong, there were some funny parts, but it was clearly as aforementioned a dramatic production.

I thought the lighting was pretty neat. As soon as Hedda broke out General Gabler’s two pistols for the first time, the backdrop turned red. Colors in theatre always represent something, so I figured at least one character was going to die somewhere along the way. The fact that the backdrop stayed a reddish color throughout a great deal of the play continued to reinforce my opinion, and the entire time I wondered who would be the victim.

I didn’t really understand how you could kill yourself gloriously, but Hedda kept saying that it was how a person contemplating suicide, especially her ex-flame, Lovborg, should go out. I share the same view as my boyfriend on that matter: I don’t have much respect for someone who commits suicide. It just seems like they couldn’t handle life, didn’t want to deal with it, and took the easy way out. Well guess what? Life isn’t always easy. I understand that she tangled herself into that unwanted predicament, but she shouldn’t have just shot herself in the head (or anywhere for that matter). She could have run away like Thea did. Obviously Hedda was smarter than Thea. I think anything is better than suicide because hey, “when life gives you lemons- make lemonade.”

Hedda was a very controlling lady. I don’t understand why she married Tesman if she didn’t love him. Then again I never had the chance to experience a woman’s life in the 1950s. But for such a control freak, it seems like she would have gotten her way a long time ago. It seems as though she would have the man of her dreams, the prime house, and loveable children of her own. Perhaps she’s just immature and can’t decide things on her own. She takes numerous drastic measures which in the end hurt more than help her situations (i.e. marrying Tesman, putting specific thoughts in Thea’s head, giving Lovborg a pistol, burning his book, shooting herself in the head). It all just adds up to disaster.

The props were all suitable for the time period. The tables and chairs had an older elegance to them. The set was very airy, but who needs walls? I’ve always wanted beautiful glass doors opening to a luscious backyard garden, so those were pretty cool. The lighting and costumes were very appropriate. I especially liked all of Hedda’s clothes. People in the ‘50s didn’t dress to bad in my opinion.

Overall I really enjoyed watching the play despite what I’d heard prior. Having read A Doll’s House also by Henrik Ibsen, it is apparent that he’s a decent playwright. Hedda Gabler was far more entertaining than anything I’ve seen at Malco lately.

The Rake: A Few Scenes from My Childhood

When you think of a rake, the first thing that comes to mind is yard work. Everyone knows that it is a utensil for cleaning up a yard, for removing small sticks and leaves. The rake, as do many other lawn care tools, has a very violent and vehement appearance. It is almost as though the teeth are a large claw connected to a sturdy stick. In The Rake: A Few Scenes from My Childhood, this simple device becomes anthropomorphic, or seems to take an animated form.
Throughout the entire story neither the boy nor his sister feel safe in the midst of their home. Constantly being blamed for whatever goes wrong within their household (around dinner time especially), they reluctantly endure living with their mother a stepfather. Though they live in their neighborhood’s “model (first built) home,” the atmosphere within the walls are anything but exemplary. The stepfather causes the children to feel there is an absence of security all around them by frequently abusing them and refusing them rights. Their mother, who, coincidentally was treated the same way by her father as a child, doesn’t offer them much help; she is the one who married the sinister man. Whenever the boy goes to visit his father on the weekends his sister always manages to get beat, hit, or slapped by the stepfather. On one occasion the mother even performed an unrighteous act towards the girl. She removed her from the lead role the night of the school play because she was too nervous to eat.
Now let’s talk more about the rake. After all, it is included in the title obviously making it an important article to the author. As I said the brother and sister are repeatedly being maltreated in an ongoing battle in which they can’t prevail against the mother and stepfather. The rake seems to symbolize one battle somewhat won by the children. Although the girl’s wound caused by the rake is the brother’s fault this time (as opposed to the oh-so-wonderful stepfather), he apologizes and the two quickly hurry inside. Also this time neither of the children are banished from the dinner table as usual nor do they manage to do something that might cause the round glass table to be shattered. The mother threatens she won’t take them to the hospital if they don’t explain what happened to the girl’s lip, but once they quietly finish their dinner she surprisingly shows signs of compassion by taking them anyway. Because of that, this childhood scene is clearly separated from the rest making it appear to be a victorious battle.

A School Shooting Response

By now everyone on campus, in the city of Memphis, and probably the entire country know of the incident which happened on Sunday evening. University of Memphis football player Taylor Bradford was shot and later died after crashing his car into a tree. Personally I didn't know him nor could I honestly verify I had ever seen him on campus for the short time I've been there. But there are a few things regarding this tragedy I just don't understand.
Why did the guy have so much money on him? I heard reports saying he had gone down to the casino prior. I also heard he was at a safety meeting. Either way why would he just be walking around on campus with that kind of money anyway? Some say the act was premeditated. How did the shooter know of this large some of money? Did he even know? Why did Bradford try to drive himself somewhere instead of making use of the numerous emergency posts on campus? How about a cell phone? If you have thousands of dollars in your pocket surely you must have one.
It's really sad that I can say this, but I'm not surprised something like this would happen. After all, we live in Memphis which is known for its high crime rate, bad drivers, and idiotic mayor. My boyfriend used to live in some apartments off of Spottswood and Highland. Incidents like this happen over there even more, that being only a block or two away off campus. The University of Memphis definitely isn't in the best area of town.
Now I think enrollment rates will drop because this is the third incident that has happened since classes began a mere six weeks ago. The people who already lived in Memphis are likely to stay because they are used to hearing about murders and the like. But as far as out-of-towners-- they probably fear for their lives. Memphis Police are so used to these incidents as well, so I'm wondering whether they will seriously be looking into this crime, or if they will just give up since cases as this are so abundant in the city. It is almost too easy to get away with murder in such a substantial area inhabited by over a million people.
I don't know if this had to do with a trip to the casino or if it dealt with drugs. Alongside Memphis's high crime rate come quite a few large drug smuggling operations. There have been relatively recent busts to prove this fact. To reiterate, not many people walk around with a couple thousand dollars on them and have somebody else know about it.
I hate the fact that life is so fragile. I know people who have been shot. They were fortunate enough to get through it a live to see another day. This whole shooting incident does make me a little uneasy, but I've been around guns pretty much every day these last few months. I think it's about time I learn how to use one for my own safety. I heard this was one of the safest campuses in the state of Tennessee. So much for that claim.........

The Textual Analysis Essay

The selection I chose was The Fourth of July by Audre Lorde. In this essay the main themes are obviously racism (man vs. society) and coming of age. Throughout the text the tone, symbolism, and choice of words slowly but continuously alter according to the girl’s experiences.
In the beginning the tone is very peppy and comfortable. The family is about to go on a vacation. Soon the tone takes a change for the worst. The delightful family vacation becomes an ill one and is overall disappointing.
Lorde uses vivid and alluring words as well as some alliteration to describe items as the foods the mother prepares for the train ride: “…brown bread and butter and green pepper and carrot sticks…little violently yellow cakes…” (Lorde 567). She also uses food words that are more gustatory: “…sweet pickles…dill pickles…peaches…rosewater and glycerin…” (Lorde 568).
There is a stress on the color white throughout the entire essay. This makes sense of course because the young girl is a member of an African-American family traveling from New York to Washington, D.C. in the year 1947. This wasn’t such a jovial time for black people in the United States, which was deliberately meant to contradict the date of which this family trip occurs—Independence Day. This holiday is well renowned as a day of the country’s remembrance of freedom and liberty. The girl, having just graduated from the eighth grade becomes fully aware that at this point in time the previous statement is only a half-truth. “I viewed Julys through an agonizing corolla of dazzling whiteness, and I always hated the Fourth of July, even before I came to realize the travesty such a celebration was for the black people in this country.” (Lorde 569). The day she finally acknowledges this, she considers the day she officially “stopped being a child” (Lorde 567).
The silence of this whole essay is apparent on multiple occasions. Her parents refuse to be riotous and infuriated (though it can be inferred they feel this way on the inside) and quietly take the absurd injustices as they come: “As usual, whatever my mother did not like and could not change, she ignored. Perhaps it would go away, deprived of her attention.” (Lorde 568).
Ultimately, when the family is refused dine-in service at a Washington ice cream and soda parlor, the youth grows up and realizes what kind of ridiculously racist society in which she is living. The color white has never been as unfair and hideously blinding as it now appears. Lorde does a superb job conveying a distinct tone, symbolism, and word choices. The themes of both racism and coming of age are clearly delivered.

Prime Directive

One of the first writing elements I recognized in this essay was when the author mentioned a "darkening sky" on page 125. From this use of foreshadowing, it is apparent that the text will be serious in tone. Nonetheless, the author soon fools the reader when he brings up Halloween, a day known for both death and childish frivolity-- opposites placed together.
He also mentions to Star Trek as a war reference stating they should stay out of the affairs of alien nations. His wife is mentioned a few times as well. He misses her and feels like he should be with her, as do the Iraqui soldiers.
It is, after all Halloween, so the author and his buddy decided to party hop. This constant change of location refers to the way the soldiers are constantly being shuffled around in the arid climate overseas. Each "party" they attend is the same, as is each party.
The author has a hard time accepting how things should be versus how things are.

THEME: MUSIC - Group Essay

Group Members: Jonathan, Mauricus, Jannica

For centuries, music has played a role in society. As a group, we have discovered that music has affected each of our lives through our relationships with family and friends, school, and controversial lyrical themes. To further explain music’s effect on our lives, we give you our personal encounters:

Jonathan-

Ever since I was a child, there has always been music in the background of my surroundings. There was always something either playing on the radio or a track spinning in the background. My brothers and I were always practicing our instruments. I played the drums, two of my brothers played the saxophone, and the other played the bass guitar and cello. I had many cousins who played instruments as well. Also, one of my uncles is a professional drummer. If you ever listen to the Shaft soundtrack, you might hear him playing the drums, or you could possibly see him at a concert on stage with Patti Labelle, Ronald Isley, R. Kelly, Isaac Hayes, and many more artists. Music followed me throughout middle school and high school and allowed me to meet many friends along the way. In middle school, I was a member of the seventh and eighth grade band-- the marching band and symphonic band. I also participated in All-West Band which allowed me to meet many of the friends who I still communicate with to this day. We still get together and reminisce on our old performances, talk about music in general, life, and our pursuits in music.
In high school, I was a member of the concert band and marching band. I met so many people from across the country in marching band. We would travel every weekend to different states for competitions. Everyone I met, we all shared a common interest, and I still talk to some of the people I met while in marching band as well.
After my freshmen year, I grew out of the whole marching band concept and wanted to pursue my own musical interest. A friend I met while I was in marching had a makeshift type studio at his house. A group of my friends and I made up a name for a sort of record producing project. We would just go there after school and come up with songs and go in the studio (my friend’s closet) and just record the songs. We even sold our recordings at school for five dollars. That was one of the best periods of my life so far.As of today, music is somewhat the root of my relationship with my family and friends. If there is nothing to talk about we always seem to find a subject in music. I even wrote this blog while listening to music.

Jannica-

“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.” A Jamaican reggae singer and musician, better known as Bob Marley, once spoke these very words.Music is something to which everyone can relate. I have yet to meet a person who has a burning hatred for such a universal theme. It has the power to do anything from inducing an insane amount of adrenaline for a football game to easing a person's frustration after a hard day's work. And unless an electric guitar gets smashed on your head or your fingers get caught between some symbols, music definitely isn't painful. There's such a wide variety of music on this earth that it's impossible not to enjoy something. A person might also change their mind about their musical preferences. For example, I used to dislike Bob Marley, or reggae for that matter. Then one day I sat down with my Jamaican friend and really listened to what this influential, Rastafarian man had to say. His lyrics made me rethink my perception of life at the time. I had constantly being given home suspensions for ridiculous reasons. Particularly this was due to the recently recruited and not to mention crooked school administration in charge."Don't worry about a thing cause every little thing is gonna be all right," he proclaimed. Hearing this made my presently hectic, unrighteous world far more manageable. I felt as though I had always longed to hear these words from somebody throughout the course of my life. I was overcome with a sense of calmness though still engulfed in the upbeat reggae rhythms.I continued on for the remainder of my high school career inspired (only enduring a few more unjust issues) and received my diploma on that momentous day. Now here I stand-- a college freshman ready to take on life.

Mauricus-

Has music lost its content? This issue has been bought up many times in the last decade. Most of the answers are very opinionated. I personally believe that in some cases it has, but in some ways its still the same or maybe even better. I have had many personal encounters and influences with music. Music has always been used to send out various messages such as love, hate, and problems. The same issues are still talked about today. There have been many controversial issues with today’s music. Themes such as sex and violence have really stirred up America. People fail to realize that this has always been talked about in music, the styles of discussion were just different. For example, Marques Houston’s hit song “Naked” was on the verge of being banned because of its title. On the other hand, some of the same people who had problems with this song loved the 1980’s hit “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye. These two songs have the exact same topic, but the one from today’s society was considered controversial. This is just one example of why I think music has some of the same content. On the other hand, topics such as robbing and killing do take away some content from music. Even with this, no matter what, you will always have a couple of bad apples in the bunch. Will we let this be the overall deciding factor of today’s music?

Although the three of our personal encounters don’t overlap perfectly, they share one major aspect: music tremendously influences all of us.

THEME: MUSIC

"One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." A Jamaican reggae singer and musician, better known as Bob Marley, once spoke these very words.
Music is something to which everyone can relate. I have yet to meet a person who has a burning hatred for such a universal theme. It has the power to do anything from enducing an insane amount of adrenaline for a football game to easing a person's frustration after a hard day's work. And unless an electric guitar gets smashed on your head or your fingers get caught between some symbols, music definitely isn't painful. There's such a wide variety of music on this earth that it's impossible not to enjoy something.
A person might also change their mind about their musical preferences. For example, I used to dislike Bob Marley, or reggae for that matter. Then one day I sat down with my Jamaican friend and really listened to what this influential, Rastafarian man had to say.
His lyrics made me rethink my perception of life at the time. I had constantly being given home suspensions for ridiculous reasons. Particularly this was due to the recently recruited and not to mention crooked school administration in charge.
"Don't worry about a thing cause every little thing is gonna be all right," he proclaimed. Hearing this made my presently hectic, unrighteous world far more manageable. I felt as though I had always longed to hear these words from somebody throughout the course of my life. I was overcome with a sense of calmness though still engulfed in the upbeat reggae rhythms.
I continued on for the remainder of my high school career inspired (only enduring a few more unjust issues) and received my diploma on that momentous day. Now here I stand-- a college freshman ready to take on life.

Themes

M U S I C
Groups members: jannica, mauricus, jonathan

- played clarinet in middle school
- Bob Marley-- when it hits you, you feel no pain
- favorite band for five years was the Vines
- started taking piano lessons in 3rd grade; stopped in 7th
- was in Orff All City in 6th grade
- trophies for musical excellence
- learning to play my Fender DG-7 acoustic guitar
- subs are bumpin; iloveBASS
- i can tolerate any music playing
- muck sticky = awesome local music
- musicfest
- hear songs on the radio and teach myself to play them
- i sing
- music is everywhere.

Tools of Writers, Esquire

This article in Esquire titled "Milkenize Me" is based on men's generally bad eating habits. The author, Cal Fussman, hopes to influence his readers to eat healthier by explaining his own mistakes and those of his parents. He uses Michael Milken as an aid for his health-conscious cause since his name is already so familiar and appeals to the business world.
The article is chronologically structured around the major events in Fussman's life and includes his choice of foods during these selected time periods. At first he is disappointed in the photo hanging on his wall which is a visual aid suggesting obesity. He tells how his mother has presently been diagnosed with cancer, a disease which Milken (the author's main inspiration) overcame. He also informs his readers of his father's poor eating habits--

"If you gave me a choice between living a few more years or eating good steaks, I say: Give me the steaks." (Esquire 100)

The tone the author displays is serious, vital, and straightforward. Eating healthy can potentially save your life, and your health is obviously nothing with which to play around. Fussman is attempting to tell his audience that getting in shape is possible. Since he's giving his own personal account, more of the audience can relate. He starts out the article saying he never believed in diets. The Buddy Diet failed him miserably, so he gave up all hope until the esteemed health nut Michael Milken told him that he can still eat what he wants--

"I've found that through creativity, I'm able to eat almost anything I desire." (Esquire 97)

What Milken meant by this was any foods a person longs for can be mimicked with a more nutritional but tantalizing alternative which will in turn enhance the body's immune system.
Words of diction such as fat, belly, Hagen Daas, and cancer offer a negative connotation while fruits, vegetables, exercise, and diet suggest the opposite. The voice Fussman is trying to get across is a healthier lifestyle is feasible for anybody willing to make the jump. You don't have to try painstaking diets or meticulously keep count of tiny, useless weight loss pills. It's just a matter of altering the dishes you desire all the while keeping the tastes you love.
Food is something every human being can relate to, so this article immediately grabs most readers' attention. It certainly caught my eye.