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?"

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?"