Education sucks
Nobody understands me
Disappear from here
After reading "Teenage Wasteland" by Anne Tyler (Kennedy 36-42) I wrote this Haiki (my first). This story is set in an era I can relate to, but the story itself is ageless really. It tells of a young teen who struggles to suceed in the conventional education system and the parents who are at a loss with how to handle the situation; sadly a common theme still today.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Blog Entry 8
Poem:
"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden (Kennedy pp. 779)
Paraphrase:
Even on Sunday, the day of rest, “father got up early”(779). The air was so cold is can only be described as “blueblack”(779). Father’s hands were intensely worn from working outdoors; it was a thankless job. The crackling fire indicated that the cold was turning to warmth. This was the prelude to being summoned out of the warmth of the bed; apprehensively getting dressed to face another day of endless madness. Don’t dare mutter a word of complaint, and be grateful for how father’s love is demonstrated, no matter the form.
"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden (Kennedy pp. 779)
Paraphrase:
Even on Sunday, the day of rest, “father got up early”(779). The air was so cold is can only be described as “blueblack”(779). Father’s hands were intensely worn from working outdoors; it was a thankless job. The crackling fire indicated that the cold was turning to warmth. This was the prelude to being summoned out of the warmth of the bed; apprehensively getting dressed to face another day of endless madness. Don’t dare mutter a word of complaint, and be grateful for how father’s love is demonstrated, no matter the form.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Freestyle Number Seven
Fiction and Nonfiction.
As much as I enjoy reading short (fiction) stories, I seem to have a tendency to look for the weakness in the story. I don’t know if this is the reason I like nonfiction more, but when I read nonfiction I only find myself asking questions that would bring clarity to the story; I’m not questioning the reality of it.
I understand that with fiction, there are some things that have to be assumed in order to tie certain ideas or events in with the story line. I also understand that fiction is often derived from real life stuff. At any rate, it’s a struggle for me, most of the time, to sit down and spend time reading or watching a movie that is made up stuff.
I haven’t always had this affliction; it started about ten years ago and just seems to be more prevalent as I get older. About this time I was on a John Grisham kick and would stay up till the wee hours to finish a book. I knew these stories were based on real cases, which made it even more interesting to me. But then something happened; the questions in my head were now along the line of, “oh, how could that be?” rather than, “I wonder…” and I switched to exclusively reading biographies and history.
The paradox is such that, as I get older, I feel as if I should spend more leisure time on things that aren’t of great importance but just more entertaining, like reading fiction. After all, one of my all time favorite movies is The Wizard of Oz. I watched it recently (for the, oh, 100th time maybe) with two of my grandchildren; not once did I get up or find any flaws with the story line. Maybe there’s hope for me still.
As much as I enjoy reading short (fiction) stories, I seem to have a tendency to look for the weakness in the story. I don’t know if this is the reason I like nonfiction more, but when I read nonfiction I only find myself asking questions that would bring clarity to the story; I’m not questioning the reality of it.
I understand that with fiction, there are some things that have to be assumed in order to tie certain ideas or events in with the story line. I also understand that fiction is often derived from real life stuff. At any rate, it’s a struggle for me, most of the time, to sit down and spend time reading or watching a movie that is made up stuff.
I haven’t always had this affliction; it started about ten years ago and just seems to be more prevalent as I get older. About this time I was on a John Grisham kick and would stay up till the wee hours to finish a book. I knew these stories were based on real cases, which made it even more interesting to me. But then something happened; the questions in my head were now along the line of, “oh, how could that be?” rather than, “I wonder…” and I switched to exclusively reading biographies and history.
The paradox is such that, as I get older, I feel as if I should spend more leisure time on things that aren’t of great importance but just more entertaining, like reading fiction. After all, one of my all time favorite movies is The Wizard of Oz. I watched it recently (for the, oh, 100th time maybe) with two of my grandchildren; not once did I get up or find any flaws with the story line. Maybe there’s hope for me still.
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place"
“And what do you lack?”
“Everything but work.”
(Kennedy 150)
In this short story by Ernest Hemingway, we learn about an older deaf man who frequents a café and is the subject of the two waiters; one young and the other old. It’s obvious that the younger waiter is irritated with the older deaf man because he stays late and sometimes leaves without paying. The quote above reveals, to me, that the older waiter can relate to the old deaf patron; one works at the cafe and the other frequents the café, and both men don’t seem to have much more going on in their lives. Both of the older men are lonely and stay out till early in the morning. Their inability to verbally communicate disables them from engaging in chit-chat they might otherwise enjoy; which would fill a void of loneliness.
“Everything but work.”
(Kennedy 150)
In this short story by Ernest Hemingway, we learn about an older deaf man who frequents a café and is the subject of the two waiters; one young and the other old. It’s obvious that the younger waiter is irritated with the older deaf man because he stays late and sometimes leaves without paying. The quote above reveals, to me, that the older waiter can relate to the old deaf patron; one works at the cafe and the other frequents the café, and both men don’t seem to have much more going on in their lives. Both of the older men are lonely and stay out till early in the morning. Their inability to verbally communicate disables them from engaging in chit-chat they might otherwise enjoy; which would fill a void of loneliness.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
The Story of an Hour, Kate Chopin
In reading from Kennedy, it is said that Kate Chopin had the “ability to write short stories of compressed intensity” (pp. 326). After reading The Story of an Hour, I would say this is, at best, an understatement.
Okay – I must stop my reader and advise you that I’ve given then end of the story away in this posting. So, if you’re interested in reading it for yourself first – please take the opportunity to exit and come back after you’ve read it.
Mrs. Mallard is the main character in this short story who, upon hearing of her husband’s supposed death in an accident, is at first distraught and wants only to be alone. I think this is probably something that a lot of people can relate to and therefore, it’s easy to understand why Chopin would describe her immediate need for seclusion. Chopin makes sure the reader knows early on that Mrs. Mallard is “afflicted with a heart trouble” (Chopin 326) as this is quite useful to the way the story takes the reader on a path of possible outcomes.
As I read from sentence to sentence my assumptions about where this “hour” would end were many, but not once did I consider the turn that Chopin takes at the end, after all, Mrs. Mallard was obviously overjoyed at the reality of being widowed. Once it became apparent that she was through the initial shock of her husband’s death, and that she was beginning to feel a sort of liberation; I wondered what the significance of the heart affliction actually was.
As it turns out, she dies, and her husband is not dead. He arrives home within minutes of her dying, and he would never know what had transpired in her mind in the previous hour. I would be willing to bet that Alfred Hitchcock would have enjoyed this story, and probably did; it’s right up his alley.
I have to admit that I picked this story for my freestyle blog posting because, well, it’s really short and time right now is of a premium. But as the old saying goes, “good things come in small packages.”
Okay – I must stop my reader and advise you that I’ve given then end of the story away in this posting. So, if you’re interested in reading it for yourself first – please take the opportunity to exit and come back after you’ve read it.
Mrs. Mallard is the main character in this short story who, upon hearing of her husband’s supposed death in an accident, is at first distraught and wants only to be alone. I think this is probably something that a lot of people can relate to and therefore, it’s easy to understand why Chopin would describe her immediate need for seclusion. Chopin makes sure the reader knows early on that Mrs. Mallard is “afflicted with a heart trouble” (Chopin 326) as this is quite useful to the way the story takes the reader on a path of possible outcomes.
As I read from sentence to sentence my assumptions about where this “hour” would end were many, but not once did I consider the turn that Chopin takes at the end, after all, Mrs. Mallard was obviously overjoyed at the reality of being widowed. Once it became apparent that she was through the initial shock of her husband’s death, and that she was beginning to feel a sort of liberation; I wondered what the significance of the heart affliction actually was.
As it turns out, she dies, and her husband is not dead. He arrives home within minutes of her dying, and he would never know what had transpired in her mind in the previous hour. I would be willing to bet that Alfred Hitchcock would have enjoyed this story, and probably did; it’s right up his alley.
I have to admit that I picked this story for my freestyle blog posting because, well, it’s really short and time right now is of a premium. But as the old saying goes, “good things come in small packages.”
Miss. Brill Has a Bad Day
“Yes, I have been an actress for a long time” (Wolff 86): Miss. Brill’s proud proclamation in response to an inquiry of her profession.
“But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there?” (Wolff 86): A young lad’s response to his date’s resistance to a risky public display of affection.
Wow – talk about being hit in the gut! Who doesn’t love to sit and people watch, and no one would expect to encounter this level of emotional devastation from such an innocent past time. Obviously, Miss. Brill has taken people watching to another level; she’s created a diversion from her otherwise lonely existence. Isn’t this what we might equate to modern day “reality TV,” another method of escapism?
Miss. Brill was having an exceptionally grand time on this particular day, and then all of a sudden, a few thoughtless words of a selfish young lad, trying to steal a romantic moment in public with his young love, and she finds herself immersed in mental agony.
Wolff does an exceptional job in creating a climax by building up a mental picture of this elderly, yet sophisticated, woman who is taking in every moment that surrounds her. She was so pleased to be watching the young couple, “…beautifully dressed; they were in love” (Wolff 86). As she attempts to eavesdrop for her own enjoyment and amusement, she is stabbed in the throat when she is referred to as the “stupid old thing” (Wolff 86) sitting within ear shot. Was this punishment for her taking the liberty of being the voyeur? At this moment, the reader can feel her pain. But even when she finds herself back in the solitude of her home, she has refused to acknowledge herself as being the source of the sound of whimpering, and instead transfers it to her little dead furry friend, “But when she put the lid on [the box] she thought she heard something crying” (Wolff 87); the ultimate form of denial.
“But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there?” (Wolff 86): A young lad’s response to his date’s resistance to a risky public display of affection.
Wow – talk about being hit in the gut! Who doesn’t love to sit and people watch, and no one would expect to encounter this level of emotional devastation from such an innocent past time. Obviously, Miss. Brill has taken people watching to another level; she’s created a diversion from her otherwise lonely existence. Isn’t this what we might equate to modern day “reality TV,” another method of escapism?
Miss. Brill was having an exceptionally grand time on this particular day, and then all of a sudden, a few thoughtless words of a selfish young lad, trying to steal a romantic moment in public with his young love, and she finds herself immersed in mental agony.
Wolff does an exceptional job in creating a climax by building up a mental picture of this elderly, yet sophisticated, woman who is taking in every moment that surrounds her. She was so pleased to be watching the young couple, “…beautifully dressed; they were in love” (Wolff 86). As she attempts to eavesdrop for her own enjoyment and amusement, she is stabbed in the throat when she is referred to as the “stupid old thing” (Wolff 86) sitting within ear shot. Was this punishment for her taking the liberty of being the voyeur? At this moment, the reader can feel her pain. But even when she finds herself back in the solitude of her home, she has refused to acknowledge herself as being the source of the sound of whimpering, and instead transfers it to her little dead furry friend, “But when she put the lid on [the box] she thought she heard something crying” (Wolff 87); the ultimate form of denial.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Freestyle - The Chris Farley Show
During the break between summer and fall classes I started reading several books, one of which is The Chris Farley Show written by Tom Farley, Jr. and Tanner Colby. For those you who are familiar with Chris Farley, I don’t have to say much to convince you that he was an endearing, yet troubled, young comedian who met with an untimely death. If you’re not familiar with Farley and his repertoire of characters from Saturday Night Live and his movies, I suggest (if you’re interested) to check out the SNL archives (circa early 90’s)featuring him as the motivational speaker, Matt Foley and/or his movie with David Spade, Tommy Boy.
This book is written in a style that allows you, the reader, to feel as though you’re sitting in a room listening to his friends and family members reminisce about their interactions with this comedic genius. Each person gives a short paragraph or two in each chapter of the book that takes up where the previous person leaves off, or they begin a new story or an account of some experience they had with Farley. It’s done in a no holds barred honest account of their feelings and opinions about what Farley did, should have done, could have done, and how he touched them on some level.
I enjoy biographies, and autobiographies, and recommend this book to those who also enjoy the real-life stories of others. This story also demonstrates the destructiveness of addiction and how it can rule and dictate an individual’s struggle to “be clean,” as well as the profound affect that an addict can have on the people around them, close or otherwise. There is a common theme among those who are afflicted with the addictive gene; there is only one pivotal moment in which their lives change forever.
This book is written in a style that allows you, the reader, to feel as though you’re sitting in a room listening to his friends and family members reminisce about their interactions with this comedic genius. Each person gives a short paragraph or two in each chapter of the book that takes up where the previous person leaves off, or they begin a new story or an account of some experience they had with Farley. It’s done in a no holds barred honest account of their feelings and opinions about what Farley did, should have done, could have done, and how he touched them on some level.
I enjoy biographies, and autobiographies, and recommend this book to those who also enjoy the real-life stories of others. This story also demonstrates the destructiveness of addiction and how it can rule and dictate an individual’s struggle to “be clean,” as well as the profound affect that an addict can have on the people around them, close or otherwise. There is a common theme among those who are afflicted with the addictive gene; there is only one pivotal moment in which their lives change forever.
"A & P"
“By the time I got her feathers smoothed and her goodies into a bag – she gives me a little snort in passing, if she’d been born at the right time they would have burned her over in Salem…”
“You never know for sure how girls’ minds work (do you really think it’s a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glass jar?) but you got the idea she had talked the other two into coming in here with her, and now she is showing them how to do it, walk slow and hold yourself straight.” (Updike, pp. 15-16)
In reading this short story there are several adjectives that give me the impression that Updike’s character, “Sammy” is somewhat of a misogynist and perhaps a pervert. A word like “feathers” to imply the woman in his check-out line is a hold hen, and his suggestion that the girls’ minds (and those of girls in general) are relatively empty except for the “buzz.” He assigns each of the three girls a nickname to indicate a level of attractiveness as if they’re just objects to toy with.
Further on in the story it’s obvious he’s actually an immature hormonal post adolescent who finds himself in a moment of impulsiveness for, what seems to be, defending the honor of the young ladies who he disappear and miss his heroic act.
This story is colorful, humorous, and actively engaging. At the point where you begin to have total disdain for young Sammy, it takes a turn and it’s obvious that his family has aligned with his impetuous decision to walk off his job in defense of the young girls. At the conclusion of this story Sammy realizes that his actions were in fact quite dramatic by his statement, “and my stomach kind of fell as I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter” (pp. 19). Did life really become difficult or was that just his fearful assumption at that moment? Did he actually meet the girls later on and befriend them? If so, were they impressed with his defense of their defiance of the store’s dress policy? Perhaps quitting the job at the A&P lead to better things for him; got him out of a possible rut. It’s all left to each reader’s imagination and what they want for the smart-alec young Sammy.
“You never know for sure how girls’ minds work (do you really think it’s a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glass jar?) but you got the idea she had talked the other two into coming in here with her, and now she is showing them how to do it, walk slow and hold yourself straight.” (Updike, pp. 15-16)
In reading this short story there are several adjectives that give me the impression that Updike’s character, “Sammy” is somewhat of a misogynist and perhaps a pervert. A word like “feathers” to imply the woman in his check-out line is a hold hen, and his suggestion that the girls’ minds (and those of girls in general) are relatively empty except for the “buzz.” He assigns each of the three girls a nickname to indicate a level of attractiveness as if they’re just objects to toy with.
Further on in the story it’s obvious he’s actually an immature hormonal post adolescent who finds himself in a moment of impulsiveness for, what seems to be, defending the honor of the young ladies who he disappear and miss his heroic act.
This story is colorful, humorous, and actively engaging. At the point where you begin to have total disdain for young Sammy, it takes a turn and it’s obvious that his family has aligned with his impetuous decision to walk off his job in defense of the young girls. At the conclusion of this story Sammy realizes that his actions were in fact quite dramatic by his statement, “and my stomach kind of fell as I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter” (pp. 19). Did life really become difficult or was that just his fearful assumption at that moment? Did he actually meet the girls later on and befriend them? If so, were they impressed with his defense of their defiance of the store’s dress policy? Perhaps quitting the job at the A&P lead to better things for him; got him out of a possible rut. It’s all left to each reader’s imagination and what they want for the smart-alec young Sammy.
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