Circuits and Wires
A journey through my brain
To connect the dots and to understand
The ways in which a mind works.
Spirit's up gotta look good
Gotta support for what I love
To be the image of a crowd
Practicin' what you preach son.
A dance a dance a
wonderful dance. A
time to be free and enjoy
the little things in life.
But what to wear?
Oh my what to do?
Formal it seems hmm hmm...
A Doctor's voice calls
an idea emerges; but
when shall he arrive again?
The sad man in a box?
Or not so sad anymore
For he passed his sad
endings and is arriving
at a happy beginning.
It seems we all do this
In the lives we live
We are the writers of
our sad endings, just
to find ourselves the composers
of happy beginnings.
(Word Count: 147 Words)
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Shakespeare, the guy everyone loves to hate.
Oh Billy. Wherever I turn, it seems people get frustrated with Shakespeare, the friendly, arrogant poet slash playwright from the good ole fifteenth century. What's there to hate? Okay, I guess granted the language is a huge barrier. It's like trying to talk to someone with a thick accent, you just keep looking at them and thinking "Huh?" I guess Shakespeare can be the same way. Still, that's what makes it fun to read.
For my English class this week, we are starting to delve into Hamlet. We were told this is the most difficult of Shakespeare's plays, so I went in with a bit of reluctance. My expectations were too low. For those having trouble, try reading it all out loud. Trust me, hearing it all in my voice and being dramatic about reading the play helped me follow through with what was going on, rather than just glazing my eyes over it and pretending I got it.
I got it all first try, I think. In just the first three scenes, I succeeded in laughing my butt off a total of three times (3). I just find it completely hilarious the way the language is used to express humor. Lets go to Act 1, Scene 3. Laertes is about to take his leave back to France, and he says goodbye to his sister. Being her brother, he has to give some kind of brotherly advice before he leaves her in the big bad world...
Shakespeare had two choices here. He could have said something blunt and obvious, like "'Ey gurl keep it in ur pantz and stay away frum tha' Hamlet punk", but instead, he said this. "Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain if with too credent ear you list his songs or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open to his unmastered importunity."
Ouch. That one hurt. And throughout the entire play these people are harassing Hamlet. I mean, look at Cladius. He is the uncle of Hamlet's late father, whom also married his sister-in-law not even a month after her husband had died. She don't care. She do what she wants. But when Hamlet laments his father, all Cladius does is say "Maybe we should chug on over to mamby pamby land where MAYBE we can find some self-confidence for you, you jackwagon!". Even later on, Polonius questions Ophelia about what Laertes had told her, and when she told him, he just reinforces the statement.
It seems that Hamlet is a depressed little teenager. How? Well ask Horatio and he'll tell you. He comes in saying he is but a poor servant and Hamlet says "I'll (ex)change that name with you." Seems Hamlet wants nothing to do with the royal blood he was born with. Personally, he should be a little more grateful. I bet all the peasants in Dunsinane would kill a king to get an opportunity like that (cough cough Macbeth.)
So wrapping this up, I am excited to continue reading this. Shakespeare, even after 600 years, is still a great writer who never fails to amaze me. I'll certainly be looking forward to finishing this play.
(Bonus)
I always imagined Shakespeare in his teenage years. He would sit out on street corners, dressed all fancy, and he would walk up behind women and declare, "Your eyes are nothing like the sun." Curious, she turns around and looks at him imploringly. He continues his sonnet, sniggering sometimes in-between lines. "And in perfumes there is more delight, than in the breath that from you reek." SLAP. The woman backhands him in disgust and trots away. Shakespeare has this impish grin plastered across his face, and he rubs his cheek where he was hit and looks to find another woman to "woo." Sometimes he uses "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" and sometimes he uses other sonnets. He never gets to the end of them, because usually he gets slapped or the woman leaves before he can get to the turn. He spends his nights crashing at a buddy's house, where he and his friends help him write some of his more arrogant sonnets, and they usually end up falling asleep exhausted from all their laughing.
(Word Count: 710 words)
For my English class this week, we are starting to delve into Hamlet. We were told this is the most difficult of Shakespeare's plays, so I went in with a bit of reluctance. My expectations were too low. For those having trouble, try reading it all out loud. Trust me, hearing it all in my voice and being dramatic about reading the play helped me follow through with what was going on, rather than just glazing my eyes over it and pretending I got it.
I got it all first try, I think. In just the first three scenes, I succeeded in laughing my butt off a total of three times (3). I just find it completely hilarious the way the language is used to express humor. Lets go to Act 1, Scene 3. Laertes is about to take his leave back to France, and he says goodbye to his sister. Being her brother, he has to give some kind of brotherly advice before he leaves her in the big bad world...
Shakespeare had two choices here. He could have said something blunt and obvious, like "'Ey gurl keep it in ur pantz and stay away frum tha' Hamlet punk", but instead, he said this. "Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain if with too credent ear you list his songs or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open to his unmastered importunity."
Ouch. That one hurt. And throughout the entire play these people are harassing Hamlet. I mean, look at Cladius. He is the uncle of Hamlet's late father, whom also married his sister-in-law not even a month after her husband had died. She don't care. She do what she wants. But when Hamlet laments his father, all Cladius does is say "Maybe we should chug on over to mamby pamby land where MAYBE we can find some self-confidence for you, you jackwagon!". Even later on, Polonius questions Ophelia about what Laertes had told her, and when she told him, he just reinforces the statement.
It seems that Hamlet is a depressed little teenager. How? Well ask Horatio and he'll tell you. He comes in saying he is but a poor servant and Hamlet says "I'll (ex)change that name with you." Seems Hamlet wants nothing to do with the royal blood he was born with. Personally, he should be a little more grateful. I bet all the peasants in Dunsinane would kill a king to get an opportunity like that (cough cough Macbeth.)
So wrapping this up, I am excited to continue reading this. Shakespeare, even after 600 years, is still a great writer who never fails to amaze me. I'll certainly be looking forward to finishing this play.
(Bonus)
I always imagined Shakespeare in his teenage years. He would sit out on street corners, dressed all fancy, and he would walk up behind women and declare, "Your eyes are nothing like the sun." Curious, she turns around and looks at him imploringly. He continues his sonnet, sniggering sometimes in-between lines. "And in perfumes there is more delight, than in the breath that from you reek." SLAP. The woman backhands him in disgust and trots away. Shakespeare has this impish grin plastered across his face, and he rubs his cheek where he was hit and looks to find another woman to "woo." Sometimes he uses "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" and sometimes he uses other sonnets. He never gets to the end of them, because usually he gets slapped or the woman leaves before he can get to the turn. He spends his nights crashing at a buddy's house, where he and his friends help him write some of his more arrogant sonnets, and they usually end up falling asleep exhausted from all their laughing.
(Word Count: 710 words)
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Steam-Powered Apocalypse
Hello again everyone, happy hump day. If you are not a fan of that video, happy Wednesday. If you do not enjoy Wednesdays, it has been cancelled due to a scheduling error. I am gonna review a book today. Although I haven't finished it, I think I am far enough in to review it accurately.
So these past few... two weeks? Maybe? I have been reading a novel called Romulus Buckle and the City of Founders by Richard Ellis Preston. It's a pretty good novel all and all, the concept is interesting--it's about a bunch of aliens destroying the Earth, putting the remaining human population into a steam-powered apocalypse where feuds between clan leaders ravage the frosted landscape--the characters are dynamic, the imagery is nice, and the plot is good. I can say that this is a good book, but I also kinda disliked it... But I believe that is due to the similarity to another book series.
Just last year I read a series called the Edge Chronicles, which was a steampunk/fantasy hybrid. The characters, plot, setting, backgrounds, and everything else was amazing. To top it all off, one of the authors of the book, Chris Riddell, also illustrated the novel. This led to drawings every couple of pages to give the reader a better image of what was happening. The picture on the right is just one example of what the art looked like. I really loved this idea, because although the books were more based towards kids (hence why they were pictures, I think) it really created the image in my mind of what was happening in the book, how the the characters interacted, and key locations. It also made some great drawing references.
Back to the main point, I think the Edge Chronicles book series kind of tainted my view for the Romulus Buckle book. It is almost the same in main aspects; there are giant floating skyships, the characters dress in a certain manner, the plotline of Romulus Buckle could easily be a plotline in the Edge Chronicles, and many other things. So while I am reading this, I keep reading all this great description of what the characters are dressed like and what the airship is like and the likes of such. I keep expecting a picture to go along with it, but then I remember that it's a whole other book series. It's still good, don't get me wrong. It was slow reading at first, but I am really getting into it.
So these past few... two weeks? Maybe? I have been reading a novel called Romulus Buckle and the City of Founders by Richard Ellis Preston. It's a pretty good novel all and all, the concept is interesting--it's about a bunch of aliens destroying the Earth, putting the remaining human population into a steam-powered apocalypse where feuds between clan leaders ravage the frosted landscape--the characters are dynamic, the imagery is nice, and the plot is good. I can say that this is a good book, but I also kinda disliked it... But I believe that is due to the similarity to another book series.
Back to the main point, I think the Edge Chronicles book series kind of tainted my view for the Romulus Buckle book. It is almost the same in main aspects; there are giant floating skyships, the characters dress in a certain manner, the plotline of Romulus Buckle could easily be a plotline in the Edge Chronicles, and many other things. So while I am reading this, I keep reading all this great description of what the characters are dressed like and what the airship is like and the likes of such. I keep expecting a picture to go along with it, but then I remember that it's a whole other book series. It's still good, don't get me wrong. It was slow reading at first, but I am really getting into it.
I guess what I am trying to say is that I miss the Edge Chronicles. The final book of the series was released just over three years ago, and it hasn't been the same since. I have read and reread each book to try and fill the void, but it simply won't go away. The good news is that the authors announced another book to be released next spring, even though they said they'd stop. Pretty excited for that. Book-wise, my patience is being tested this year. So here's to being able to enjoy all the books to come in my future.
Hobey ho.
Word Count: 525 words
Hobey ho.
Word Count: 525 words
Monday, September 16, 2013
Music and Poetry
Due to me feeling un-creative tonight, and that it is nine o' clock at night, I'm just gonna write a little piece of something we all know and love... Music.
As we approach the end of our poetry unit, we were asked to find a song that, to ourselves, is a poem. There's a funny thing about music that we don't quite experience in poetry, mostly the rhythm of each (bu-dum tiss). Well, what I mean by that, is one has a catchy beat in the background and the other goes through a lame pattern of tame matters that rhymes in sequence of time and secrets. Oops, you didn't just see that.
Anyways, music makes us feel inspired and emotional. When you are reading a poem, you read it in your own voice. When listening to music, you are hearing the intensity of whoever the artist is, telling their poem the way it is meant to be heard. Imagine good ole Billy Shakespeare reciting Shall I compare thee... to whichever fine (or maybe not-so-fine) mistress he wanders across. (Time machine Bucket List. It's official)
A lot of people complain about not "getting" poems. They have so much hidden meaning buried in metaphor and simile and imagery and implication and explication and literal and imaginary and concrete and abstract that it is hard to figure it out on the first go. It took me several reads to actually understand Sylvia Plath's Metaphors, and even then, I had to talk to some classmates to truly understand the different aspects of the poem that related to what it meant. If you haven't read it, click here; it really is a good beginner's poem to read if you want to get started into poetry.
So what makes music so different? Returning to my original statement, its rhythm. I doubt many people can get a song right on the first go, even if they tell you they can. Granted, these days all this lame poppy music is pretty blunt and obvious (oh hey, you just met me and want me to call you maybe. will do), but I am talking about music that isn't trying to appeal to us in that way, the stuff that makes us think. Pop music really just tries to sell us their songs, and it's not easy to do that if someone has to think about why they want to buy it.
When I get a new album, I gotta listen to it 5 or 6 times through, and even then I only get the lyrics. After days and days of singing the songs to myself, then is when I really get it. But hey, I enjoy listening to music, to sit on the bus and blast out the world in the sweet sounds of stereo and synthesizers. Put a nice beat across a poem and I bet I'd listen to it a thousand times as well.
So to wrap this up, I guess what I am trying to say is to give things a chance. Poetry isn't easy to get at first, and you're not gonna record yourself saying it just so you can listen to it a million times and understand it, and no one else is either. Music IS poetry, it's just easier to understand. So instead of throwing your [insert literary medium here] into the air, burning it to pieces, feeding it to your dog, or tossing it at your little brother, try to read a couple lines and hey, maybe you'll run into something you really like!
Since it's a calm-ish night and I am feeling slightly generous, enjoy this peaceful eight song playlist for your listening pleasures.
Modest Mouse - World At Large
Modest Mouse - Custom Concern
Motion City Soundtrack - Boxelder
Motion City Soundtrack - Hold Me Down
Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks
Death Cab for Cutie - Lack of Color
Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
Ben Folds Five - Brick
Word Count: 662
As we approach the end of our poetry unit, we were asked to find a song that, to ourselves, is a poem. There's a funny thing about music that we don't quite experience in poetry, mostly the rhythm of each (bu-dum tiss). Well, what I mean by that, is one has a catchy beat in the background and the other goes through a lame pattern of tame matters that rhymes in sequence of time and secrets. Oops, you didn't just see that.
Anyways, music makes us feel inspired and emotional. When you are reading a poem, you read it in your own voice. When listening to music, you are hearing the intensity of whoever the artist is, telling their poem the way it is meant to be heard. Imagine good ole Billy Shakespeare reciting Shall I compare thee... to whichever fine (or maybe not-so-fine) mistress he wanders across. (Time machine Bucket List. It's official)
A lot of people complain about not "getting" poems. They have so much hidden meaning buried in metaphor and simile and imagery and implication and explication and literal and imaginary and concrete and abstract that it is hard to figure it out on the first go. It took me several reads to actually understand Sylvia Plath's Metaphors, and even then, I had to talk to some classmates to truly understand the different aspects of the poem that related to what it meant. If you haven't read it, click here; it really is a good beginner's poem to read if you want to get started into poetry.
So what makes music so different? Returning to my original statement, its rhythm. I doubt many people can get a song right on the first go, even if they tell you they can. Granted, these days all this lame poppy music is pretty blunt and obvious (oh hey, you just met me and want me to call you maybe. will do), but I am talking about music that isn't trying to appeal to us in that way, the stuff that makes us think. Pop music really just tries to sell us their songs, and it's not easy to do that if someone has to think about why they want to buy it.
When I get a new album, I gotta listen to it 5 or 6 times through, and even then I only get the lyrics. After days and days of singing the songs to myself, then is when I really get it. But hey, I enjoy listening to music, to sit on the bus and blast out the world in the sweet sounds of stereo and synthesizers. Put a nice beat across a poem and I bet I'd listen to it a thousand times as well.
So to wrap this up, I guess what I am trying to say is to give things a chance. Poetry isn't easy to get at first, and you're not gonna record yourself saying it just so you can listen to it a million times and understand it, and no one else is either. Music IS poetry, it's just easier to understand. So instead of throwing your [insert literary medium here] into the air, burning it to pieces, feeding it to your dog, or tossing it at your little brother, try to read a couple lines and hey, maybe you'll run into something you really like!
Since it's a calm-ish night and I am feeling slightly generous, enjoy this peaceful eight song playlist for your listening pleasures.
Modest Mouse - World At Large
Modest Mouse - Custom Concern
Motion City Soundtrack - Boxelder
Motion City Soundtrack - Hold Me Down
Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks
Death Cab for Cutie - Lack of Color
Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
Ben Folds Five - Brick
Word Count: 662
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Time to Board the Scholar Ship
Well, it's come to that time of our lives. It's time to get ready for college; it's time to write all the essays, to submit our applications, to take a million tests that abuse acronyms (SAT, ACT, HSPE, ASVAB, WAT, MIT, CIA, FBI, LOL), and to try and get those pesky scholarships.
Scholarships. Boy aren't these fun. Our economy is built in such a way that either one, you have enough money to fund yourself through college, or two, you get a couple of scholarships, you get a job, and you work your butt off to struggle through four years. Usually at the end you are piled in student debt too, and from what I have heard, that's a joy. In my English class, we've had to start writing essays, a sorta nudge in the write direction by my teacher to hopefully give us a chance. It's time to board the Scholar Ship, and trust me, you're not gonna get those tickets by winning poker with a Full House in some shabby bar at the port. (Full House, Boys!)
Most of us will get the Millennium's Scholarship, and hey, that'd help. But past that, we're out on our own. We're out on the College Safari with our Jeep broken down, hunting for food in the middle of the night. Sometimes you'll nail a gazelle or two, and that will feed you for a short time. Most of the time, the tigers and lions (and bears, oh my) will kill you with debt.
Okay. A little too much hyperbole for you? I agree. I was over exaggerating. But that's sorta how I feel right now. My future is a train coming across the tracks at full speed; it's a game of chicken, and on one side is high school and the other is college. Gotta be fast. Gotta be ready. Can't be pommeled by that overwhelming responsibility and crumble under the pressure.
So as you can tell, I am more than a bit worried. I found a couple of scholarships here and there, and I took my shot. Who knows when I will find out if I get them though, sometimes you just need to close your eyes and pull the trigger. Sitting to my right, there is a list of about 60 or so scholarships I need to complete (shout out to my mum for getting that together), but trust me, the list does not look to appealing.
Good luck to everyone this year; I bet we're all gonna be fighting the same battles in our own way this year, and we could all use a little help from each other. It isn't worth getting mad over some of the little things someone says, they've got bigger battles to fight and can't be trying to participate in all the smaller ones. Good luck getting those scholarships, good luck writing those essays, good luck finding the college you want to get into, good luck with all the tests and grades and leadership and life and whatever else gets in the way. I'm with you all every step of the way. Hobey ho.
(Word Count: 521 words)
Scholarships. Boy aren't these fun. Our economy is built in such a way that either one, you have enough money to fund yourself through college, or two, you get a couple of scholarships, you get a job, and you work your butt off to struggle through four years. Usually at the end you are piled in student debt too, and from what I have heard, that's a joy. In my English class, we've had to start writing essays, a sorta nudge in the write direction by my teacher to hopefully give us a chance. It's time to board the Scholar Ship, and trust me, you're not gonna get those tickets by winning poker with a Full House in some shabby bar at the port. (Full House, Boys!)
Most of us will get the Millennium's Scholarship, and hey, that'd help. But past that, we're out on our own. We're out on the College Safari with our Jeep broken down, hunting for food in the middle of the night. Sometimes you'll nail a gazelle or two, and that will feed you for a short time. Most of the time, the tigers and lions (and bears, oh my) will kill you with debt.
Okay. A little too much hyperbole for you? I agree. I was over exaggerating. But that's sorta how I feel right now. My future is a train coming across the tracks at full speed; it's a game of chicken, and on one side is high school and the other is college. Gotta be fast. Gotta be ready. Can't be pommeled by that overwhelming responsibility and crumble under the pressure.
So as you can tell, I am more than a bit worried. I found a couple of scholarships here and there, and I took my shot. Who knows when I will find out if I get them though, sometimes you just need to close your eyes and pull the trigger. Sitting to my right, there is a list of about 60 or so scholarships I need to complete (shout out to my mum for getting that together), but trust me, the list does not look to appealing.
Good luck to everyone this year; I bet we're all gonna be fighting the same battles in our own way this year, and we could all use a little help from each other. It isn't worth getting mad over some of the little things someone says, they've got bigger battles to fight and can't be trying to participate in all the smaller ones. Good luck getting those scholarships, good luck writing those essays, good luck finding the college you want to get into, good luck with all the tests and grades and leadership and life and whatever else gets in the way. I'm with you all every step of the way. Hobey ho.
(Word Count: 521 words)
Sunday, September 8, 2013
How Far Can You Stray?
Good afternoon, everyone. Today, I'll be discussing the book Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1985), and more specifically, how I think (from what the trailers have shown me) how it will compare to the movie. So here we go. Possible spoilers ahead, so if you plan on reading the book (or watching the movie) enter on your own whim. I will try to keep the spoilers to a minimum. Very spoiler-y parts will be run over in gray, highlight them to read those parts.
So first, lets discuss the author. Orson Scott Card (OSC) has written over 50 books, many in the Sci-Fi genre. You can correct me if I am wrong, but I didn't notice any extremely prevalent viewpoints in Ender's Game (although I can't say much about his other novels), and so because of his personal opinions on topics such as same-sex marriage, political stance, religion, and science he has been under fire by various people. You might find some people with VERY strong opinions about his writing. I have talked to some people who really love his books, and some who really hate them; when I asked them to provide reason for these opinions, usually it was his opinions that were the reasons for someone liking his books.
Now, the book, in my opinion, was very good. It was only until I inquired with others about why they liked or disliked the books that I looked up what his beliefs were. So I wasn't reading the book because I disagreed or agreed with him in one way or another (I read it cause it was assigned for book club). Back to that, the book was good for a couple of reasons. I like science fiction, and I pleasantly enjoyed imagining what the games he played would be like. I like how humanity was one of the "themes" of the book, which was present throughout most of it. I also like that it made me think, I read it, and I felt like I could clear my thoughts and talk to people in a way that made sense. If this post doesn't make sense, it's mostly cause I am not reading the book anymore.
I watched the trailer the other day, after finishing the book (both trailers are viewable here and here), and from what I saw, it will not even be close to the book. I know, this is typically how movies are, but hear me out. At about 1:40 in the second trailer, he is inside of his flagship, controlling the fleet, ready to destroy the planet in the distance. In the book, this wasn't the case; he spent his time after graduating from the first school playing more simulations, thinking he was only playing games and preparing for the war. It was not revealed until later that he was actually controlling a real fleet, and fighting against the Buggers in the war. He felt almost overwhelmed and defeated in the final battle, and all but gave up and, as he thought, "broke the rules." When it was revealed to him that he had just won the war, he got angry. He didn't want to kill anyone, even the Bugger enemy. In the movie, it seems like he is almost happy to be fighting against the enemy, and the whole book's conflict of being human seems to have been erased.
So that brings me to the question. How far can a movie really stray? Does the director not want to include it, because he does not agree with OSC's beliefs? Or is there something else? Or am I overanalyzing it entirely and merely taking assumption based on a couple short clips? I dunno. I still am gonna go see the movie when it comes out, and hey, maybe I'll like it as much as I liked the book. We'll see.
On a side note, I would like to brush on a connection I noticed. This book, in at least the atmosphere of it, seems very similar to Starship Troopers (1959). Space wars, "Bugger" hostile aliens, propagandic in some minute way. Stuff like that. I looked it up, and OSC said he had not even read the book until after he wrote Ender's Game. Just some food for thought. There's another book I should start reading. Maybe after I finish all the ones I got. Hmm...
(Word Count: 730 words)
So first, lets discuss the author. Orson Scott Card (OSC) has written over 50 books, many in the Sci-Fi genre. You can correct me if I am wrong, but I didn't notice any extremely prevalent viewpoints in Ender's Game (although I can't say much about his other novels), and so because of his personal opinions on topics such as same-sex marriage, political stance, religion, and science he has been under fire by various people. You might find some people with VERY strong opinions about his writing. I have talked to some people who really love his books, and some who really hate them; when I asked them to provide reason for these opinions, usually it was his opinions that were the reasons for someone liking his books.
Now, the book, in my opinion, was very good. It was only until I inquired with others about why they liked or disliked the books that I looked up what his beliefs were. So I wasn't reading the book because I disagreed or agreed with him in one way or another (I read it cause it was assigned for book club). Back to that, the book was good for a couple of reasons. I like science fiction, and I pleasantly enjoyed imagining what the games he played would be like. I like how humanity was one of the "themes" of the book, which was present throughout most of it. I also like that it made me think, I read it, and I felt like I could clear my thoughts and talk to people in a way that made sense. If this post doesn't make sense, it's mostly cause I am not reading the book anymore.
I watched the trailer the other day, after finishing the book (both trailers are viewable here and here), and from what I saw, it will not even be close to the book. I know, this is typically how movies are, but hear me out. At about 1:40 in the second trailer, he is inside of his flagship, controlling the fleet, ready to destroy the planet in the distance. In the book, this wasn't the case; he spent his time after graduating from the first school playing more simulations, thinking he was only playing games and preparing for the war. It was not revealed until later that he was actually controlling a real fleet, and fighting against the Buggers in the war. He felt almost overwhelmed and defeated in the final battle, and all but gave up and, as he thought, "broke the rules." When it was revealed to him that he had just won the war, he got angry. He didn't want to kill anyone, even the Bugger enemy. In the movie, it seems like he is almost happy to be fighting against the enemy, and the whole book's conflict of being human seems to have been erased.
So that brings me to the question. How far can a movie really stray? Does the director not want to include it, because he does not agree with OSC's beliefs? Or is there something else? Or am I overanalyzing it entirely and merely taking assumption based on a couple short clips? I dunno. I still am gonna go see the movie when it comes out, and hey, maybe I'll like it as much as I liked the book. We'll see.
On a side note, I would like to brush on a connection I noticed. This book, in at least the atmosphere of it, seems very similar to Starship Troopers (1959). Space wars, "Bugger" hostile aliens, propagandic in some minute way. Stuff like that. I looked it up, and OSC said he had not even read the book until after he wrote Ender's Game. Just some food for thought. There's another book I should start reading. Maybe after I finish all the ones I got. Hmm...
(Word Count: 730 words)
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
A Study of Blogging Habits
Today for my English class we were assigned a couple poems to analyze and answer questions for. Of these, one poem really stuck out to me. It is called A Study of Reading Habits by Philip Larkin (1922-1985). This poem was more or less pretty interesting, and the imagery it supplied, as well as the message it displayed at the end were very humorous. Here, read it for yourself real quick:
Well. That was certainly an adventure. First of all I am going to define some words I didn't recognize, and maybe you readers didn't quite recognize either.
Lark - A bird who's song is delivered in flight
Meringues - A type of light and fluffy desert
Stewed - Drunk
Anyways, this poem seemed really interesting to me, as I connected to it as an avid reader. Each stanza describes a period in the speakers life; the first, describing his life as a child. The speaker usually felt the cure for most ills was reading (besides school of course), and that this activity he considered fun was worth ruining his eyes for. The next three lines may describe the kinds of books he is reading: old adventure books in which the hero is constantly beating up the villain and his henchmen. The speaker connects with this, and imagines himself in the same situation.
The next stanza describes his life as an adult. Due to all his reading as a kid, he has to wear some large glasses just to see with his damaged vision. He constantly makes adventures into the night, doing the dirty deed with women and "breaking" them like fragile deserts. This could also possibly describe the literature he was into at this age; thrilling suspense novels, set in dark places with which the heroes may have several different types of adventures.
Finally, the last stanza describes him as an old man. He identifies with the side characters of books, rather than the main protagonist; the character who lets the girl down, maybe betraying her, just before the brave hero arrives, or the "yellow" (scared) shopkeeper who stays in hiding if he was being held up. Suddenly, the speaker realizes this life is all too familiar, and suggest one simple thing to fix that: to get madly drunk.
"Books are a load of crap" he describes. His entire life he lived through the characters of a book, and at the end of his life he realized that this may not have been a good idea, although he only realized this when it was too late.
Overall, as I stated previously, this was a pretty interesting poem. The humor was spot-on, and it kept me interested. The way the speaker describes the characters he relates to and how he is using these characteristics inside of his own life is also pretty humorous. It took me a couple reads to get it, but when I finally did, it made a lot of sense.
I tried to write this blog piece six times, before I was satisfied with this result. Please enjoy it for my own sanity.
Blogging is a load of crap.
(Word Count: 629 words)
When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.
Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my cloak and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.
Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store,
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.
Well. That was certainly an adventure. First of all I am going to define some words I didn't recognize, and maybe you readers didn't quite recognize either.
Lark - A bird who's song is delivered in flight
Meringues - A type of light and fluffy desert
Stewed - Drunk
Anyways, this poem seemed really interesting to me, as I connected to it as an avid reader. Each stanza describes a period in the speakers life; the first, describing his life as a child. The speaker usually felt the cure for most ills was reading (besides school of course), and that this activity he considered fun was worth ruining his eyes for. The next three lines may describe the kinds of books he is reading: old adventure books in which the hero is constantly beating up the villain and his henchmen. The speaker connects with this, and imagines himself in the same situation.
The next stanza describes his life as an adult. Due to all his reading as a kid, he has to wear some large glasses just to see with his damaged vision. He constantly makes adventures into the night, doing the dirty deed with women and "breaking" them like fragile deserts. This could also possibly describe the literature he was into at this age; thrilling suspense novels, set in dark places with which the heroes may have several different types of adventures.
Finally, the last stanza describes him as an old man. He identifies with the side characters of books, rather than the main protagonist; the character who lets the girl down, maybe betraying her, just before the brave hero arrives, or the "yellow" (scared) shopkeeper who stays in hiding if he was being held up. Suddenly, the speaker realizes this life is all too familiar, and suggest one simple thing to fix that: to get madly drunk.
"Books are a load of crap" he describes. His entire life he lived through the characters of a book, and at the end of his life he realized that this may not have been a good idea, although he only realized this when it was too late.
Overall, as I stated previously, this was a pretty interesting poem. The humor was spot-on, and it kept me interested. The way the speaker describes the characters he relates to and how he is using these characteristics inside of his own life is also pretty humorous. It took me a couple reads to get it, but when I finally did, it made a lot of sense.
I tried to write this blog piece six times, before I was satisfied with this result. Please enjoy it for my own sanity.
Blogging is a load of crap.
(Word Count: 629 words)
Monday, September 2, 2013
Out of My League
Well, first of all hello everyone and welcome to my blog. I will be posting things about what I am reading inside of class, as well as thoughts of what I am reading outside of it (which may or may not be in several parts). I will likely be describing my thoughts on the reading or what I have read thus far, and may be criticizing or appreciating various aspects of whatever I am writing about. So lets begin.
This week, I finished Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea (1870). Quickly summed up, the book follows Mr. Arronax and Captain Nemo aboard the submarine The Nautilus as they travel 20,000 leagues across the sea. Some may consider Verne's work as the mother of science-fiction, due to the absurdity of the ideas he wrote about in his day and time--although they certainly seem less absurd in our modern era.
Despite talking to other people, who say to have enjoyed the book, I can't with an honest mind say that I liked it. I thoroughly appreciate the science-fiction genre, and in that statement I can say that I appreciate Jules Verne for kick-starting the idea, but this book appealed to few of my fancies.
One reason I failed to like this novel is that the main character, Mr. Arronax, describes his trip and what he sees in as many vivid details as possible. Initially, I enjoyed reading this but after the fifth or six time it happened, I got very bored, very quickly. Arronax lists the Latin names of every fish he sights, as well as several sentences of what their appearance. My small understanding of marine biology failed to identify many of the creatures, save for the cuttlefish and other similar species. I glazed over many of these details in the latter half of the book, due to them having no real contribution to the plot, or characters, in the novel.
These long segments of detail were interrupted by small amounts of humor, and some action such as when Captain Nemo and Mr. Arronax explore the lost city of Atlantis, the much too short battle with the giant squid, the ice berg, and the maelstrom are examples of this. Sadly, these moments never really lasted any longer than a page or two and the story went right back into description.
Overall, the book was not so good. I can understand the purpose of the way it was written--a journal written by a biologist who wished to record every detail of his journey--but that I think made it the biggest turn off for me. If that sounds like your cup of tea, then I would suggest you read it, but if you are more attracted to the modern day sci-fi (see Ender's Game, Dune, 1984, or any of Crichton's novels) than you might want to pass this up. Or maybe not, it's always good to see the origins of these things.
At least I got a cool cover.
(Word Count: 500 words)
This week, I finished Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea (1870). Quickly summed up, the book follows Mr. Arronax and Captain Nemo aboard the submarine The Nautilus as they travel 20,000 leagues across the sea. Some may consider Verne's work as the mother of science-fiction, due to the absurdity of the ideas he wrote about in his day and time--although they certainly seem less absurd in our modern era.
Despite talking to other people, who say to have enjoyed the book, I can't with an honest mind say that I liked it. I thoroughly appreciate the science-fiction genre, and in that statement I can say that I appreciate Jules Verne for kick-starting the idea, but this book appealed to few of my fancies.
One reason I failed to like this novel is that the main character, Mr. Arronax, describes his trip and what he sees in as many vivid details as possible. Initially, I enjoyed reading this but after the fifth or six time it happened, I got very bored, very quickly. Arronax lists the Latin names of every fish he sights, as well as several sentences of what their appearance. My small understanding of marine biology failed to identify many of the creatures, save for the cuttlefish and other similar species. I glazed over many of these details in the latter half of the book, due to them having no real contribution to the plot, or characters, in the novel.
These long segments of detail were interrupted by small amounts of humor, and some action such as when Captain Nemo and Mr. Arronax explore the lost city of Atlantis, the much too short battle with the giant squid, the ice berg, and the maelstrom are examples of this. Sadly, these moments never really lasted any longer than a page or two and the story went right back into description.
Overall, the book was not so good. I can understand the purpose of the way it was written--a journal written by a biologist who wished to record every detail of his journey--but that I think made it the biggest turn off for me. If that sounds like your cup of tea, then I would suggest you read it, but if you are more attracted to the modern day sci-fi (see Ender's Game, Dune, 1984, or any of Crichton's novels) than you might want to pass this up. Or maybe not, it's always good to see the origins of these things.
At least I got a cool cover.
(Word Count: 500 words)
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