[Attesting] My Strangeness %D (Music Review)

[Note: hah. This is a music post, and you're STILL not spared the words. :P To skip most of the filler, go down to the highlighted symbols. It's that easy. :) ]

Agh. I can't think of that one word for my title...so it'll be blank for now, then I'll type one that has a blank, and then I'll keep this sentence here even when I finally remember said word. Mwahaha~

Ok. SO. We have to apparently do some type of music review, and honestly I kinda kept zoning out (I've been doing that lately), and Mr. M's words of wisdom and direction-giving. My apologies.

BUT! Here's what I got from his talk: I have to choose a song or an album of songs, and then--check this--WRITE. A. REVIEW.

*le GASP!*

Basically, I'll say whether it's good or bad or pure torture, and why I like it, blahblahblah...and possibly, explain a theme or something. Right, we all know what this post is about; all of us in Mr. M's Amercan Lit.

Those were his directions, more or less, give or take. Normal people will simply find a song and write about what they like or hate about it (Why did I think about Justin Bieber when Mr. M said we could bash a song that's seen as great?). However, I am NOT a normal person, and this fact will be supported by me blog post...becuuuuuz...

§§§

I can choose a song in a foreign language. YES! I want some things to be known, though...1) I do not speak the language in which these songs are sung, and 2) I will not be translating the songs..word for word.

Enough of this info crap--erm, stuff. I decided to do my review on this series of songs I enjoy, called "The Story of Evil," aka "The Daughter of Evil" series. It's this string of songs in Japanese that are put together by Mothy, or Akuno-P. I like the music a lot, but the best part of the series is how each song picks up and carries on the story of the previous song.

There were--WERE--originally 5 songs telling the story (here are their titles in Japanese and the English equivalents): "Aku no Musume"/"Daughter of Evil", "Aku no Meshitsukai"/"Servant of Evil", "Regret Message", "Shiro no Musume"/Daughter of White", and "Twiright Prank". There is another song that fits between Regret Message and Shiro no Musume (Daughter of White), titled "Re_birthday". However, that particular song is actually part of another album, although the producer says that it was an answer to "Regret Message." Also, I just looked up the series again, and Akuno-P apparently uploaded a new song, in EVILS COURT called "Wooden Girl~Thousand Year Wiegenlied~".

...Yeah. Don't ask. >.>

I don't think I have to tell you what the story is about; watch the videos, and you'll either figure it out or make up your own story; that's the fun of imagining. :)

The question is, should I find fan-made AV for this, or just get the original vids with English subtitles? (The difference mainly that the originals are sometimes just still, single pictures while fanmade vids are sometimes moving pictures). The story's all the same.

Meh. Both it is.

NOTE: I was able to get the videos on here, but the full screen option may not work. Click the link to watch on youtube and be able to actually read the subtitles, if it's too small to read here.

Daughter of Evil

This part is about the princess herself. She ruled with an iron fist--at only age 14!!!

Original (Akuno-P):

 FanMade:

Servant of Evil

This one's about the princess's servant (as you can tell by the title). The servant will do anything for said Princess, even if it means becoming evil.

Original (or so they say):

FanMade:

Regret Message

After the fact (the Revolution and such).

Original Best One:

Re_birthday

Regret Message's match. Made in the heavenly yard. :)

(Smile if you got it)

FanMade Favorite Ver.:

Shiro no Musume

This song is my absolute favorite out of all the Story of Evil. It's very well put together, and I like the music~. This one's from the viewpoint of a bystander ("Bystander" is the official English title for the song).

Original (and fave):

Twiright Prank

My...second fave? Also the one my dad refers to as "Nani Nuk ('nuke')." xD He's so strange...But I can't hold it against him; I listened to this song over and over for hours on end, and now he calls every Japanese song (or any song sung in an Asian language) that. This song is more of a flashback.

Original (and fave)

Annnd...I don't really care for the Wooden Girl one. It just came out recently, sometime this year, and for me the story stopped with the Twiright Prank. Besides, I didn't like parts of the music in the video. There was a choppy jump from this pop or rock sounding music to some softer, classical-ish music. It just wasn't blended well enough.

I enjoyed this post...Although I feel like I got off topic a bit... Oh well. Did you pick up on the story? Apparently a lot of people cried going through these videos.

...

NO, I WAS NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE.

Right-O. Now that I've given you a chance to be suckered into watching the videos and listening to high-pitched Japanese voices, I'd like to say some things:

1. The videos feature the singers as the characters
2. The Servant was a guy, in case you didn't realize, however...
3. He is voiced by a girl (Asami Shimoda--Shimoda Asami)!
4. The same girl, in fact, as the princess; they're twins~
5. the singers are Vocaloids

Yep. In case you didn't know. I found them...somehow...on the internetz...And there are tons of songs by them, and different versions and covers of the songs made by fans and actual "producers" (I decided that's what the "-P" is for in several of the better-known music-makers' names). I'm a fan of only some of their songs; namely, the ones that can actually make the Vocaloids sound human.

Right... a Vocaloid is a virtual character in the Vocaloid® voice synthesizer program. That's why they sometimes (if not often) sound very weird when you listen to them.

DISCLAIMER: Just because I like these Vocaloids, it doesn't mean you have to like them; I took this post as an opportunity to talk about my enjoyment of them. Like them if you like.

FIN!!! TRINNBLOOM OUT!

"I'll be the day;"

"I'll be the night;"

"When we hold hands we make a beautiful orange sky."

Write as They Come: More Wintry Worded Goodness

Ah. I've just finished reading everyone's poem that's out there (in my 5th period class, anyway), and I am impressed. And slightly disappointed. A few people voiced doubts about their own ability to write poetry. But all of the poems I read were really good. Poetry is art, and art is one of the things you don't and can't fail at. It's your own interpretation. Once you've written a poem, you're poetic and a poet. And I'll say it again: all of you guys in my class are superb poets. (Oops, I didn't say that already?)

Now that I've read all your works and got my inferiority complex started up, I shall write more random poems so that I can reach the incredibly high bar of standards you all have set.

I hope you're happy.

These poems can go under the same "Winter Poem" blog post, but they're really just poems:

"The Window"

Wake up to that abstract world of white
Outside the window

The white specks float down gently
Blown every which way
Hither and thither
Making their final landing
On the warm surface
Of a sleeping earth

Just sit up and watch
The snow swirl
The wind may howl
The windows may rattle
But it doesn't matter

Hot chocolate in hand
Swaddled in blankets
The bedside
The windowsill
The couch
The floor

Quiet
Peaceful
Warm
Cozy
Content

Calmly
Gazing out the window
It must be cold outside
For the world to just freeze
Like it does

But it's pleasant here
The world's blanket of white
To this blanket of warm
The world's icy chill
To the fire's heat

Separated
By only an inch
That world
So different from this one
Is just outside the window.

Snow Should Be Falling. Like, Right Now. (Winter Poem)

Ho-hum. It would appear that every time I have to do a blog, I forget the little, important details that I kinda need to do it right and in a appropriate timetable, namely because I completely fail at time management and I never get my…um, 8-9(?) necessary hours of sleep. It's all school's fault, I tell you.

Anyway, I do not remember the specifics of this poem post; I'm pretty sure it's due tomorrow (that's silly; good poetry within guidelines cannot be completed so quickly), and it's something about winter and snow…?

Meh. I'll just write up a poem (haven't done that in a while) and add another one if need be. I love writing poems. Or used to, anyway.


"Snowfall" by TrinnBloom

Red mercury plummets
And down, too, the snow falls
Frosty flurries drift slowly
Riding wind
Cov'ring all

All is calm
All is white
All is quiet
All not quite
As it was before
Hustle and bustle
Muffled
By the soft veil of snow

Snow continues to drift down
With no end in sight
Look up
Reach out
And catch
The flakes as they fall
On your hand
On your face
On your tongue

Cool and crisp
Crystals of ice
Last only for a moment
Blown by the wind
And piled into a collective white
No two snowflakes are alike
But suddenly no two are different

Down, down, down falls the snow
More on more
Build up
Ice up
Thaw out
And melt down

Then wait a little bit
Until the next snowfall.

J.D., Where Hath Thy Fled?

And, no, not my dog from years back. I'm pretty sure I know where he went.

Jerome David Salinger was an interesting man. I'm not exactly sure how I reached that conclusion, nor am I sure that you will agree with me. But that is what I have decided, so far. But although J.D. Salinger was slightly eccentric, I believe that it is no more than the rest of the human race. We're all strange.

Anyway, one thing that was very glaringly obvious in my research was the similarities between Salinger and his stories and characters. I won't beat around the bush or anything, because this will most likely become another Long-Winded post; cheers. J.D. Salinger took his own life experiences and molded his stories from those experiences.

JD Salinger (most likely to be referred to as "JD" from here on out) had a Scotch-Irish mother and a Jewish father, and his upbringing was apparently not all that different from those of his characters. Take Holden Caulfield, for instance. He was Irish too; with the Irish last name and red-headed family members. JD grew up in a pretty part of Manhattan, in New York and eventually attended prep schools; Holden lives in New York and attended several prep schools, including and before Pencey Prep. In 1934 JD's father sent him to a Military school, and I couldn't help but connect that and Holden's crew cut; army men often (if not always) have to have their hair in a crew cut.

Ahh...what else:

• JD and Holden were secretive about their private/personal lives
• JD attended Ursinus College*, but didn't agree with the structured and strictness of the college life.
• both JD and Holden were good at creative writing
• they planned on isolating themselves from the world (JD actually accomplished the feat--so far; have yet to finish CATintRYE
• Both JD and Holden are/were perceived as "sensitive and intelligent" people; but as we've seen, they had a bit of a cynical streak
• etc., etc., everything else major we covered in class

After JD successfully got published in the New Yorker, a lifelong dream of his, he shunned all of his previous work which had been published elsewhere. This marked the start of JD Salinger's "retreat from society."

Although, apparently, looking at Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye, shortened here to CATintRYE, because I'm bored and I can), JD already had issues with the world. According to TIME, JD was, by the time he had published his story "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" he had started to become a man who couldn't stand the world. Sound familiar? JD also raged against Hollywood concerning his precious Catcher in the Rye.

I think JD's dislike of the phony world he lived in pushed him to choose seclusion. I mean, according to TIME, JD actually gave an interview once; to two high school girls, thinking that the story would only make it to the high school page of the paper. When the story appeared as a major article in the regular pages of the paper, JD was outraged, refused to give any more interviews, and completed his isolation from society. He also soon after the incident built a wall around his cabin.

One reason why CATintRYE was banned from so many places for so long is because it rejected "traditional American values." I think that that shows the rigidity of society of the time between when JD published CATintRYE and today. People weren't as accepting, but it was for trivial reasons. Catcher was disliked by the people whose ways of life and ideals were countered by the book. But that's such a petty thing to ban a book for; I think it's phony. I also believe that JD agrees with that viewpoint; this world we've created for ourselves and its society is too superficial; everything is based on surface characteristics.

These are most likely the things that drove J.D. Salinger into his cozy Cornish cabin and kept him locked up away from us, the phonies who wanted him and his ideas for our own personal desires and gains. (Oh, JD didn't like or want fame)



Sources:
http://www.notablebiographies.com/Ro-Sc/Salinger-J-D.html
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1960265,00.htmlhttp://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1960265,00.html

"Don't ever tell anybody anything."

Caulfield the Pessimist (Holden)

Today I was wearing a The Catcher in the Rye T-shirt.

If I said that, would you believe me? Probably not. Or at least, you wouldn't remember. Honestly, no one cares about my shirt, and it wasn't really a Catcher in the Rye shirt anyway. Not directly, in any case.

So I pulled out this shirt with red lettering all over the front. The first thing you notice is the huge "California" in Coca Cola font (they think they're slick; they're not. We knew that font). Then you see the words above and below it, reading "HOLLYWOOD" and "IT'S THE REAL THING!" So now my shirt reads:

HOLLYWOOD California IT'S THE REAL THING!

 I'll let that roll around in your head for a second. Now for the connection (in my strange, Alex-brained way): Holden's brother, D.B. is in Hollywood. And Holden has this problem with things and people that are "phony," or as we refer to it in class, "not real."

Blahblahblah, Holden hates Hollywood and movies (yet made a date with Sally for a matinee), mostly because he thinks they're phony. For example, in the book Holden states that he hates actors because "they never act like people." I agree that things in Hollywood aren't real; everything is glorified and elevated to a higher level of awesome than necessary. Everything in Hollywood is phony, because it's all acting. Even outside of movies, people are pretending to be suave or to like each other. Like Mr. Mosby in the Suite Life of Zack and Cody said (regarding a plastic vase that looked important): "It's just like everything else in Hollywood; PLASTIC!!"

I digress. Basically, I was wearing a shirt that advertised the exact thing Holden hates. The end.

Aside from his dislike for all things that are not as great as they outwardly appear, Holden is a very pessimistic and carping--there goes that vocab word!--teenager. Not that there's anything wrong with that; it's a phase...a phase.

Zero Originality: My Red Hunting Hat

"'My red hunting hat.' My ††††-ing red hunting hat." That's what this post was gonna sound like, but I decided against it. This is, after all, a class blog, and it's gonna be read by you guys at some point or other. The thing is, I'm suuuuuuuupeeeerrrrrrrrrr tiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrred. Stuck at school till late o'clock tonight, and--I could go into that, but I won't. Let me talk about my metaphorical head covering that is a shade of red and used during THE HUNT.

Okay. Lessee...Holden Caulfield had a red hunting hat, and Mr. M says that it's a symbol (that's what my old school calls these images that have a significant meaning to a story), and we described the basics of what the heck a hunting hat's (that's red) purpose is. A hunting hat was worn during a hunt, and it was a bright red so that other hunters wouldn't mistake the movement of a fellow hunter as that of prey and shoot them. Also, deer are color blind, apparently, so they (the deer) wouldn't be able to discern the hunters from their surroundings...

Alright. Some quick research, and the gist of it is that deer aren't so much color blind as they only see 2 colors really well; something about dichromatic and red-green color blindness like humans. Anyway, they can see blue and green really well, but cannot tell some colors from others, like a hunter's red from the green foliage. How we know these random facts about other animals' vision, I don't know.

I see the hat as a representation of Holden trying to hide from most of the people around him; to blend in or fit in, while looking for others like him ("hunters"). The "hunters" like him will be able to recognize him because of some quality that others can't see, yet it makes him stand out from those other people (the "deer"). These "deer" people only see part of Holden and are unable to make out that one other part of him that is so important. Make sense? No? Oh well. Too...bad.

Now, MY Red Hunting Hat, what would that be? I don't think that I have anything that helps me fit in AND makes me stand out to specific individuals. I think I'm...iDunno, boring. Anything some others don't have (an ability or mindset or something) they can see in me, which means either I'm not blending or they aren't my fellow hunters. I think...is it possible that I'm a hunter-deer? I'm half and half? Like cream...

Man, if this post was about memory or word association, I'd KILL. I just go--WHOOSH!!--all over the place.

Umm...I'd say my "red hunting hat" is a hat full of sky (coughcough, bookreference, cough). And obviously not red, by the way (I liked A Hat Full of Sky; random book recommendation!!). A hat full of sky is an invisible hat. I can't quite touch it, and no one else can see it or touch it, nor can it be knocked off. Yet it is there, and it is there when it matters most, keeping the rain away from your head an such (I believe there may have been a wind use too, but cannot remember).

Maybe I have yet to come into contact with these fellow "hunters" that are so like me. Or, maybe I already have....


Sorry, this one was a crappy post; but I seriously canNOT think anything else up; maybe later....

Thank You for You (Thankful for a Classmate)

Hrmm...I've been over this with Classmate A, and Darn, I don't think I know anyone well enough in the class to be thankful for them...hmm...well, I know YOU, and you're my friend...*Sigh* I guess I'll have to go with you.

I've read everyone's posts on the topic thus far, and I agree with one or two: which class? English or any class or school in general? School's TOO general; I'm grateful for all my friends (LOL; "I'm grateful for all my fiends"). But, let's narrow it down to American Lit. I can talk to a handful of people, and can hold a decent 45-second conversation with even fewer, but the person I'm thankful for in that class (save for Mr. M; you're not a classmate, sir, sorry. ;] ) is Stina, or as she hates being called, "          ". xD No worries, Stina; I shall not go there.

In reality, I like all my classmates (I'm sure...if I haven't heard you speak in class, then not really). They are all so bright and witty. But aside from little comments in class discussions and groupwork, I can only talk to one person, really.

STINA!!! You're (one of) the best!! (If I say the best, my other friends'll get me...) You come talk to me, before class and after, in Orchestra too, and you'll wait for my slow self to get packed up and leave the classroom after the bell. You'll ask me to join your group when there's group work to be done, which does me a favor since I'm very socially awkward and dislike groups. You'll joke around with me at lunch, and you cheer me up or help me out when I need it (thanks for helping me look for my watch).

You're...I dunno, A GREAT FRIEND. How else can I put it? And how the heck can I explain why you make English better? You just DO. Your very presence makes my day in English class, and it only gets better when I look over and make a weird face at you and see how you react. xD

You make class (and school) better by being you. It's just that simple. So why did I write an essay describing how you do that? My apologies. You're such a good friend that I feel some sort of guilt by being with you; I feel like I'm not worth your kindness. FRIENDSHIP BROWNIES ON MONDAY!!!! LOL. Maybe; I don't know.

Just be Stina, not Christina or Justina or           . Just. Stina. Thank you for you.

<3

"11/18 Blog"

WHAT THE--?! I KNOW NOTHZING OF THIS BLOG!!

No one did or does either, I guess. Unless Mr. M told us to disregard it...which I of course didn't hear due to my lacking listening ability. xD I'll do it for the heck of it. A blog post's a blog post, and heck with it; it's a 4-day weekend (cough, cough, andEnglishistheonlythingholdingmeback, cough).

So, the topic of this post was supposed to be "Direction the Class Needs." I shall gloss over the fact that "you" is spelled with a "p" on Edline, and the other fact that I have suspicions that Mr. M even posted that. Straight to the point. Maybe. I guess.

Something about what should be added, subtracted, or enhanced in or for the clase. Hmmm...I'd like for the Journals to make their way back into our daily schedule. I mean, when we still did them, I got to WRITE. Not just answer questions, or analyze text, or do an assignment. I got to write how I felt about a particular topic, or I'd just write whatever was on my mind or whatever I felt like babbling on about. It was a source of freedom for me, and an opportunity for me to get back into writing for leisure. I liked writing journal entries in class, and I really wish we'd do it again, more often.

Please and thanxu~!

Revelation: Suddenly, a Connection

O. Mi. Gosh.

So, I was working on my previous post, the one about Love and Perseverance being a theme in the book The Road, and I was looking at a source, a review on the book, in which the author of the review strongly suggests that there are biblical references to the book (i.e. the man and his son are like prophets in a moral story, "Ely" is Elijah, herald of the Messiah, and the boy himself is "the 10-year-old messiah"). I was struck by these connections. I am not a very religious person, as mentioned in my post about the sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," but in my left-right notes (which are unfortunately not here with me at the moment) at one point earlier on in the story, I made a connection between the father and son and God and his son Jesus. Seriously, I did. I mean, WOW.

I don't remember what I wrote down, but it was some connection between the behaviors of the father and son and how they somehow seemed similar to those of God and His son, should they ever come down and walk the earth in the end. I'll go back to my notes and get back to you...Monday?

What really gave my mind a jolt was this part of the review:

"When they capture a man who stole their goods the father leaves him naked on the road to freeze. The boy protests but the father chides him: “You’re not the one who has to worry about everything.” And then the 10-year-old messiah, who is compassion incarnate, and carrying the fire, gives up his secret. He says to his father: 'Yes I am. I am the one.'"

So, yes. That was amazing. I mean, just this week I think, we were talking about how pure the boy was, even though he was born into such a life. And later in the book (I finished it; slight spoiler alert) the narration from the man's point of view (actually, third person limited) describes the boy as having "light all around him...when he moved the light moved with him."

I always wrote down how innocently smart and caring and amazingly understanding the boy was in my notes, and that kinda led me to my little note about the boy possibly being Jesus, reincarnated. The father himself asks Ely what he would think if he (the father) said that the boy was a god. I just...I'm amazed.

OK. I shall return after I get my notes back. ;)

The Road Research Post: Love and Perseverance

Hehehe...I once again forgot when the heck this thing is due, so I'll just give you (any readers/classmates) my usual tired delirious nonsense and pull out random stuff in the form of a decent blog post. *Snicker*
...Actually, I'm REALLY tired now, so...tomorrow. Morning. I'll do this then. Sorry.


Okay, so I was looking at some [one] sources, which included an interview with McCarthy. I noticed that

Righto. New day, changing post. I just read a review for The Road, and one thing that just caught my attention now was the conversation between the "Ely" fellow and the father. First of all, the author of the review made a connection to the prophets in the Bible, and he suggested that Ely was "Elijah, herald of the Messiah, who will return on the Day of Judgement...Anyway, Ely responds to the father's proposal that the boy is a god: "Where men cant live gods fare no better." When I first read this in the book, I couldn't make sense of the statement. But now, looking at it, I realized a possible explanation: gods are a belief of man; if there are no men alive to believe, there are no gods to believe in. A-HA!! I got it. :)

Oops. Back on to the actual topic of this post. I was thinking, and I was going to ask Mr. M if I could have this post about 2 topics, but I figured he'd say that I could do it if I managed to connect the two ideas somehow. Well, I think I can. Here goes...

Love and Perseverance. These two often go hand in hand. When there is love, there's reason to persevere. In The Road, the love between the father and his son is quite apparent, even though, as pointed out by John Jurgenson (author of the article "Hollywood's Favorite Cowboy"), "they never say 'I love you.'" In response, Cormac McCarthy states "No, [I didn't have the father and son say they love each other]. I didn't think that would add anything to the story at all."

Letter to the Author of "Dinosauria, We": Charles Bukowski

[Hmm. Alright, I honestly can't remember when this thing is due, tomorrow or next Friday. I blame it on my short attention span. But here's my all @ 11pm]

October 27, 2011

Dear Mr. Charles Bukowski,

I quite liked your poem "Dinosauria, We," and I found it interesting. The words and phrases you chose gave the impression that our actions now as humans will most likely lead us to that dark, desolate world described in your poem. In a way, I agree. Note that I do not completely disagree with human methods today (okay, okay, some of them I do). However, I feel that our choices now have an effect on the world, but we just may not know it. Or want to know it.

When answering some questions regarding your poem in my english class, I subconsciously decided to substitute almost every (if not every) "this" with "humanity," and everything makes a little sense in that point of view.

"Born like [humanity] 

Into [humanity]

[...]

Dying because of [humanity]

Muted because of [humanity]

[...]

Because of [humanity]

Fooled by [humanity]

Used by [humanity]

[...]

Made crazy and sick by [humanity]

[...]"

And so on and so forth. You can plug a lot of things into the poem to replace "this," and it would still make sense. Your writing was--is--just that profound.

I think that you developed the material for your poem by taking human nature and behavior and predicting the extreme outcomes of such actions. I too believe that our humanity will be then end of us, if not the entire world. The end of the world as you wrote it may have been brought around by wars (started by us), overdevelopment (of our society), and our human nature in general.

Speaking of human nature, I feel that you talked about it a lot in "Dinosauria, We." You speak of "political landscapes dissolv[ing]", and an overqualified bag boy at a store, and fist fights-turned-assaults-and-murders. Even today, some governments are being overthrown or are simply falling. The job economy is real low; an employee at a supermarket might very well be a college grad. And humans tend to be very sensitive and fragile, psychologically and emotionally, which would explain the fist fights (no big deal) and shootings, stabbings, and murders (troubling, but not quite at the top of our list of worries). Humans often have short tempers and a lack of understanding, and we are always ready to blame others or end it all. We also require a higher power to be above us at all times, as a desperate attempt to hope for a better day (the need for religion).

A lot of things we have today we won't necessarily need or value tomorrow. Money is just paper and metal. Land is just dirt we stand on. Many things  may not be here later on, like the water or rain you mentioned in the writing, or the trees or animals or organic life. 

So many things made sense in your poem telling of the potential future of the world as we know it, and the current world as well. Hospitals do cost too much, especially for facilities that were built to help people.  Courts and the law are less tolerant; all "criminals" in court are criminals; there can't possibly be a mental problem of some sort. Our development of nuclear weapons will most likely cause our downfall as well. Eventually, everything will just stop, and then everything will return to 0 and restart.

I really do like your poem, Mr. Bukowski. I think it is well-written and a very good interpretation of how our current choices and lifestyle can and will affect our precious world. You leave so much to the reader's imagination and leave no room for assumption in some parts. Overall, I'd say a job well done!

Sincerely,

TrinnBloom, a.k.a. Alexandra

Father and Son: The Bond

Hehe...too lazy to come up with a weirder title, so we'll go with da default. It's late (relatively; early by my other post standards), and I'm tired, and I brilliantly left 98% of my notes in my locker, so yeah. It'll be short--as much as possible.

In The Road, the main characters are a man and his son, and it is apparent that the father just wants to protect his son and keep him as happy as possible in their situation. I noticed that the dad is always agreeing with his son, as if he was just making sure his son was satisfied. He says things that don't really contradict the boy, and the conversations generally have a soft tone to them. "Yes," "sure," "okay," "I know," etc. (Sorry, no good examples at the moment). In the flashbacks with the man and his wife, at the statement "Her cries mean nothing to him" (or something close to that) implied to me that he kind of loved his son more than his wife, or rather, the boy was more important to him at that moment in time. The father overall wants to keep his son safe, which is why he's constantly moving and pushing him and trying to explain their situation.

A certain conversation that really stood out to me was:

"Do you want to die? Is that what you want?"--"I don't care; I don't care."--"I'm sorry. Don't say that. You mustn't say that."

That was after the whole "I saw a little boy" scenario, and it proved that the father is really protective, and that in the end he just wants his boy safe.

Another thing about the bond between the father and son was the mutual love between them. They's argue: about the boy getting more or better things than his father (and the boy not liking that), about what to do, and so on. But when it comes down to it, in times of danger or extreme caution, all negative thoughts, feelings and/or emotions (leaving the boy to scout, shooting the man) are forgotten, and they rely on each other and enjoy each other's company, and they truly love each other. For example, after the argument regarding the other boy and the dog, and the narrow evasion of the "bad guys," the father told the boy to stay put while he got more firewood. Yet the boy followed him and helped him gather wood too. That was an "awww..." moment for me.

Sooo... Yeah. I felt a mutual love between the two, and they were/are always looking out for each other. That's probably what the relationship between parent and child is, anyway. That whole "unconditional love" thing; the need to protect your child, even if it seems harsh or mean, and still loving them no matter what.

Yeah. That's all I got. But, I apparently rewrote this little speech by the father to his son in found poem format (not really "rewrote" per se; just reformatted it):

"The Bond"

My job is to
take care of you.
I was appointed to do that
by God.
I will kill
anyone
who touches you.
Do you understand?

"If we were going to die would you tell me?"

"You're Either Brave, or Stupid" (John Proctor, Hero or Stooge?)

Alrighty then; John Proctor. Is he a brave soul or an idiot? Let us look back on past events in the story...

• [In response to Rebecca Nurse's "I think she'll wake when she tires of it...a child's spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it; you must stand still, and, for love, it will soon itself come back."] "That's the truth of it."
• "This society will not be a bag to swing around you head, Mr. Putnam."
• "I like not the smell of this 'authority.'"
• [After Elizabeth Proctor's "You must tell them it is a fraud."] "Aye, it is, it is surely."

...And the list goes on and on. I'll stop to spare your eyes. XD From my point of view, Proctor is just trying to look out for the town/village, and he will not jump to conclusions such as witchcraft or other nonsense without tangible evidence. I think that is a good trait. I also believe that all the other townsfolk are far too eager to accept witchery and the Devil's work as a source of mischief, but hey, that was then, and they handled it as they did. Whether it was right or not is another question, but here we're debating the status/role of Mr. John Proctor.

I feel like he's attempting really hard to get everyone to come to their senses about the whole "witched girl" thing. He's a sensible man, and he agrees with Rebecca Nurse that it is probably just an act of foolishness from the girls. So far, he, Rebecca, and Elizabeth are the only ones who see the supposed witchcraft as false. Everyone else just wants to blame other people at random. I sympathize with Proctor...I mean, how must it feel to be the only one who has the slightest bit of an open mind???

So, in that aspect, I think Proctor can be seen as a hero, because he tries so hard to get everyone to see the light. He even got a confession out of Mary Warren and tried to free all the wrongly accused prisoners (even though the scared girl went right back to lying, just because she has no backbone; but I'll let it slide b/c she was being pressured).

However, one thing kind of throws a wrench into my thought process. The fact that Proctor had an affair with Abigail, and he still lets that affect him. I mean, when his wife suggests he go to Cheever and let him know that Abigail was pretending, he hesitated, either because he didn't want to get the brat of a girl in trouble, or because he didn't want his sin to come to light. I still don't think that qualifies him as a "stooge," but it definitely counts as a strike against his hero status. Just saying.

I thought of something, actually. About Proctor. (Note: this is straying away from the subject of the post, but I covered my thoughts, sooo.....) I know that the word "proctor" has to do with tests, like the person who gives out an exam or something (thank you, Naruto). My handy dictionary widget defines proctor as "a person who monitors students during an examination." I thought that was a strange coincidence, mainly because my mind made connects between the definition of a proctor and John Proctor's role in the Witch Trials. Looking at it, he does in a way monitor everyone else in an examination of sorts--the witch hunt. That doesn't mean that he is the one giving the test, oh no. But he's like a supervisor, and it's like he's the teacher: no nonsense, and you can ask him for help.

That's just my thoughts on the matter. I feel like John Proctor was a little Hero in the town of Salem, even if he gave in to the madness around him in the end of Act Three. I hope that everything turns out alright for him...

"Is the accuser always holy now?"

REPENT WHILE YOU CAN (Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God)

[Edit/Note: I have added the found poem; it's at the bottom of the post. If you've read this and returned to read it, just scroll down.]

Heh. I got a kick outta this one.

We read an excerpt of "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," a sermon  given by Jonathan Edwards. The class was also told to draw/create an interpretation of what we thought of when we read the sermon. I could upload a picture of my drawing, but meh, that's too much work. If you're really curious, though, here's a link to my art/drawing blog. I wasn't very original; I drew God's several hands, and the obvious images from the sermon. I think I treated it more like a practice session in drawing hands in perspective...BUT! This post is not entirely about my drawing skills (or lack thereof, depending on your personal views), rather, it is about my interpretation of the sermon "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." I'll give it the ol' college try, whatever that means.

OK. Sooooo...erm...The sermon. It was...powerful, I'll grant you that. There was a lot of anger in there, and it wasn't necessarily that of God. To me, Edwards seemed to dislike the humans (or at least, their sins) as much as God supposedly did. I mean, all he did was talk about how bad they (we) were (are), how each day we continuously build up the pressure of God's wrath. I wouldn't feel very comforted listening to that kind of sermon, and being yelled at, no less. If church is the house of God, should it not be a place of peace and solace? Mr. M said to put ourselves in the shoes of the five-year-old Puritan child who had to sit and listen to the sermon. Well, I'm fifteen and have a wild, vivid imagination, so I was scared just by hypothetically hearing it. All that talk of sins and the trip to Hell and the fact that God was/is only keeping us alive out of pure entertainment was just....WoW.

Now, I would like to just talk from what I guess is an objective view, so do not take offense or judge me, please. First of all, I am not a very religious person. I do...no, I won't even go there. I take some things religion-wise into consideration, and some things I'll turn to at certain times (vague, right?). But, from my point of view, which is quite indifferent about the whole thing, I just, well, didn't care? No, I wasn't as into it as I guess some people would be or expect to be. I read the sermon, sure, but I was like, "Okay, man, humans sinned, and we still do. No denying that. But...what's your point?" I don't know; don't judge/hate me. That's just how I was as I read it. Like I said, I was indifferent. I felt like Jonathan Edwards wanted to make humans as fearful and docile as possible.

One thing I did as a fun little add-on as I read was write a "found poem." I picked it up last year in Survey Lit., courtesy of our student teacher, Ms. Levine. A found poem is a...well, poem (usually freeverse) that consists of key or significant phrases or words from a text. I practiced doing it last year: once or twice as assignments, and once as farewell/thank you gift to the departing Ms. Levine, and I must say, it has grown on me. And now, I shall share with you my found poem of "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"...

¥†∆¬ß!!!! Darnit, why didn't you people remind me to bring it with me??! It's in my locker, so, yeah. No tengo la poema. However, I overheard Mr. M tell someone that we can indeed alter/revise our posts, so I will bring it home tomorrow and share with you the Awesommeness that is found poem. (I am aware that "awesommeness is either misspelled or not a real word altogether. I also know that "share with you...found poem" may not sound right to some, but whatevaz; I write as I please.)

Until I revise my post and add my poem--
Alex

[Edit: Here's the poem. I hope you like(ish) it. ^-^]

"Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" Found Poem, by TrinnBloom

The wrath of God
Is like great waters
Dammed
Rapid and mighty
When let loose.
Floods of God's
Vengeance
Withheld
Your guilt
Constantly increasing
Treasuring up more
Wrath
Everyday
The floodgate would open
Fiery floods of fierceness
Omnipotent power

The bow of God's wrath
The arrow on the string
Bends at your heart
Nothing but the mere pleasure of God
Keeps the arrow.

Never
A great change of heart
Never
Born again
Nothing but his mere pleasure
Keeps you from everlasting destruction

Peace and Safety
Were nothing
But thin air and shadows

God
Holds you over the pit of hell
Abhors you
You are ten thousand times
So abominable in his eyes
You have offended him

You did not go to hell last night
You were suffered to awake again
You have not dropped into hell
God's hand has held you up
Provoking his pure eyes
By your sinful wicked manner

O sinner!
Fearful danger
You are in
A great furnace of wrath
A bottomless pit
Full of fire
By a slender thread
With flames flashing about
Nothing you can do
To induce God to spare you
You are thus in the hands of an angry God.

---

I had fun with that. All you do to make a found poem is take out important words/phrases (or those that pop out at you) and write them down. I tend to rearrange some words or phrases to suit my tastes. You can do it too, if you so choose. Just pick any thing of text and go for it.

I think my next post is on John Proctor...Until then, friends.

"Does your watch tell you what year it is?"

New Kid on the Block (Arrivals...There Goes the Neighborhood)

New Arrivals...hm. Well, honestly speaking, I don't have much experience (thank you, spell check) in that area--the only time I've moved would be 3 days after I was born-- it's late, as you'll find out @ the bottom of this here post, aaand I tend to get a bit...eccentric when I'm tired. Hehe. See if you can follow my train of thought, which most likely will not run on a track.

The first thing I would like to address is the fact that I lived a sort of introverted childhood, neighborhood-wise. I mean, my range of playmates were my siblings and my direct-next-door-neighbors. The people down the lane and across the street were just that. People. (Ah-HA! Idea. Remember that sentence, in case I refer to it again.) I didn't start going out and playing in the front until my other neighbors came and asked for me. They'd ring the doorbell, and we'd spend the day outside.

But that sounds normal. I said so in my introduction: Normal bores me. So, yeah, that specific aspect of my life I wouldn't exactly call exciting. BUT! The matter at hand is what happens when different lives meet, or more dramatically, COLLIDE!! Hehehehehe....Sorry. I got excited.

Hello World--er, English

Hey, I'm Alex(andra)                 , and this is my blog for American Lit. Pleased to make your acquaintance. This first post is to be an introductory one, so I suppose I will talk about moi, myself, and I.

Let's see. I enjoy drawing as well as writing poetry and stories, but it much easier to read those that are already published. I read mainly fiction: fantasy, realistic fiction (strange things that can almost happen to people in reality), and anything that tells the story of things out of the ordinary. Normal bores me. For instance, I am a fan (haha, I typed "naf;" what's a naf?) of the W.i.t.c.h. series, and I'm this close to having every book that's out there, namely, novels and graphic novels. W.i.t.c.h. is, as I'm sure you've guessed, a story revolving around five recently-made-magical girls who are chosen to protect the realms, endowed with magical abilities, and destined to save a world or two...etc, etc.

What else...OH! I have this collection of children's classic books, and I love all of the stories. I'm particularly fond of White Fang, The Call of the Wild, and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass. I'm telling you, Lewis Carroll (author of the last two books) was thinking up some crazy stuff; he really makes you wonder about some things. Sometimes it warps your view of reality (it did for me, anyway). Speaking of which, I also love the Chronicles of Narnia series; all seven books.

I may or may not have digressed a bit, but other things aside, I'm done for now. I'll see you next week, I suppose. I'm looking forward to this.
Hmm...I wonder if smileys are allowed?

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"