Growing Up in a Bad Place
The theme “growing up in a bad place” describes a person who is born in a place that later becomes very affected and will interfere with a person as he/she ages. This theme is broken up into subcategories no matter what kind of event will happen. Each of these subcategories of the theme is very affected such as the phoniness of the adult world; alienation as a form of self-protection; and the struggle for self-definition. The main characters in “The House on Mango Street”, “The Catcher in the Rye”, and “The Body of Christopher Creed” all had the same pain of growing up in a bad place.
In “The House on Mango Street”, Esperanza doesn’t want to cross over from childhood to adolescents. She uses the monkey garden as a place to escape and be innocent, a place where no adults go. To Esperanza, the adult world means suppression of women and sexual submission. In “The Catcher in the Rye”, Holden feels that the adult world is superficial and shallow and that adults are pretentious (phony). He finds the adult world complex and confusing and considers childhood as a time of innocence, curiosity, and honesty. He insists on drawing a barrier between the two worlds. In “The Body of Christopher Creed”, to Chris, the adult world is considered one of secrecy and rumors. His childhood is characterized by bullying as a means of defining social status.
In “The House on Mango Street”, Esperanza considers herself an alienated writer. She feels that her community is separated from the world and that she is separate from her community. She refuses to accept Mango Street and “escapes by writing.” In “The Catcher in the Rye”, Holden isolates himself from his environment. He feels victimized and that alienation is his way of protecting himself. His feels overwhelmed and confused and his sense of superiority and cruelty separates him from having to interact with others. In “The Body of Christopher Creed”, Chris’s isolation was done in the form of bully verbal and physical. He attempts to find his place and figures out where they fit in by ganging up on others.
In “The House on Mango Street”, Esperanza has a strong personality. She reminds herself not to forget her reasons for being. She initially wanted to change her name, then wanted to separate from her family and create her own life, and finally was able to define herself as a writer. In “The Catcher in the Rye”, Holden separates the child and adult world by labeling one as innocent and curious and the other as phony. It helps him to perceive himself as virtuous. This is how he keeps himself from the confusion and complexities of relationships and the adult world. He was not successful in figuring out where he fits in. In “The Body of Christopher Creed”, Chris attempts to correct people by his superior intellect and language. His disappearance redefines who they are and where they fit in.
The main characters in these three books share the same problems with growing up even though they have different circumstances. The issues are transitioning from childhood into the adult world, isolating themselves as a form of self-preservation from the fear of the unknown, and their struggles to define where they fit in.
This is my thesis. :)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Asperger's: My life as an Earthbound alien
One CNN manager recently learned -- at 48 -- that she has Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism. Today she shares an inside view of life with the condition.
ATLANTA, Georgia (CNN) -- Recently, at 48 years of age, I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome. For most of my life, I knew that I was "other," not quite like everyone else. I searched for years for answers and found none, until an assignment at work required me to research autism. During that research, I found in the lives of other people with Asperger's threads of similarity that led to the diagnosis. Although having the diagnosis has been cathartic, it does not change the "otherness." It only confirms it.
When I talk to people about this aspect of myself, they always want to know what it means to be an "Aspie," as opposed to a "Neurotypical" (NT). Oh, dear, where to start . ...
The one thing people seem to know about Asperger's, if they know anything at all, is the geek factor. Bill Gates is rumored to be an Aspie. We tend to have specialized interests, and we will talk about them, ad infinitum, whether you are interested or not. Recognizing my tendency to soliloquize, I often choose silence, although perhaps not often enough. Due to our extensive vocabularies and uninflected manner of speaking, we are called "little professors," or arrogant.
I don't quite understand small talk, and early in my adult life, solecisms were frequent. At meetings, I launch into business without the expected social acknowledgments. It's not that I don't care about people, I am just very focused on task. Do you have to rehearse greeting people to reinforce that you should do it? I do.
I am lucky to have a very dear friend who savors my eccentricities. She laughs, lovingly, about one particular evening at a restaurant. Before she could get seated, I asked her what she knew about the golden ratio and began to spew everything I know about it. I re-emphasize how lucky I am to have her as a friend, because this incident occurred long before I was diagnosed.
A misconception is that Aspies do not have a sense of humor. It is true that we can be very literal, so we often miss the humor in everyday banter, but we can and do enjoy even subtle humor. Our literal interpretations, however, can be problematic.
In first grade, whenever someone made a mess in the classroom, the teacher would ask a student to get the janitor. The student would come back with Mr. Jones (not really his name), who carried a broom and large folding dustpan. When I was asked to get the janitor, I looked all over the school and reported back to the teacher that I could not find it. After all, the person was Mr. Jones, so the janitor must be the object, right?
I lack the ability to see emotion in most facial expressions. I compensate for this deficiency by listening to the inflections in people's voices and using logic to determine emotional context. The words people choose, their movements, or even how quickly they exit a meeting can provide clues to emotion.
I also have intensified senses -- touch, taste, smell, sight, and sound -- so I am attuned to lights, noise, textures, and smells. In a "busy" environment, I will eventually go into sensory overload and my mind will go blank. When this happens, I have to "go away" mentally for a brief period to regain focus. When I "return," I have to piece together what occurred while I was "away." The additional mental processing I must do to function every day is fatiguing, and I don't handle "ad hoc" very well. Being asked to respond quickly in the midst of all this other processing is difficult, sometimes impossible.
I am so sensitive to touch that a tickle hurts me. This is the hardest concept for most people to understand. How can a tickle hurt? All I can tell you is that it does, so I avoid being touched except by those who have learned how to touch me.
Hugs are dispensed infrequently, but if I do hug someone, I resemble Frankenstein's monster, arms extended to control contact. When my dad (who I suspect is an Aspie, too) and I hug, we both have "the approach." We sometimes miss and have to re-approach a couple of times until a brief, awkward hug is achieved.
In school, other children noted my differences, and I was bullied (and tickled into fits of despair) for years. Already needing extended periods of time alone, my response was to become even more of a loner. Uh oh. When you are weird, you are a joke. When you are a loner, you frighten people. It's always the quiet ones. ...
I am married (wow!), and my brilliant husband is an absolute sweetheart. I don't know any other man who has the self-confidence to be pushed away (sometimes sharply), both physically and mentally, as often as he has been. He has been gentle and patient (and, yes, frequently emotionally depleted) as we both worked through my need for space, tendency to go so deep into my own world that the real world and everyone in it cease to exist, and sensitivity to touch during the 26 (soon to be 27) years of our marriage.
I live with anxiety, because the world can be overwhelming and people have expectations that I always, sooner or later, fail to meet. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I have been told that I am rude, inaccessible or cold, yet I have never purposely tried to harm anyone, nor do I mean to be, well, mean.
I could tell you so much more, but instead let me share one last insight. Don't pity me or try to cure or change me. If you could live in my head for just one day, you might weep at how much beauty I perceive in the world with my exquisite senses. I would not trade one small bit of that beauty, as overwhelming and powerful as it can be, for "normalcy."
I like this article because I, too, also suffered from Autism. The word "Earthbound" also reminds me of that old NES (Nintendo Entertainment System) video game Earthbound since it also meant something about aliens and does it like to be one of them. ^^
ATLANTA, Georgia (CNN) -- Recently, at 48 years of age, I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome. For most of my life, I knew that I was "other," not quite like everyone else. I searched for years for answers and found none, until an assignment at work required me to research autism. During that research, I found in the lives of other people with Asperger's threads of similarity that led to the diagnosis. Although having the diagnosis has been cathartic, it does not change the "otherness." It only confirms it.
When I talk to people about this aspect of myself, they always want to know what it means to be an "Aspie," as opposed to a "Neurotypical" (NT). Oh, dear, where to start . ...
The one thing people seem to know about Asperger's, if they know anything at all, is the geek factor. Bill Gates is rumored to be an Aspie. We tend to have specialized interests, and we will talk about them, ad infinitum, whether you are interested or not. Recognizing my tendency to soliloquize, I often choose silence, although perhaps not often enough. Due to our extensive vocabularies and uninflected manner of speaking, we are called "little professors," or arrogant.
I don't quite understand small talk, and early in my adult life, solecisms were frequent. At meetings, I launch into business without the expected social acknowledgments. It's not that I don't care about people, I am just very focused on task. Do you have to rehearse greeting people to reinforce that you should do it? I do.
I am lucky to have a very dear friend who savors my eccentricities. She laughs, lovingly, about one particular evening at a restaurant. Before she could get seated, I asked her what she knew about the golden ratio and began to spew everything I know about it. I re-emphasize how lucky I am to have her as a friend, because this incident occurred long before I was diagnosed.
A misconception is that Aspies do not have a sense of humor. It is true that we can be very literal, so we often miss the humor in everyday banter, but we can and do enjoy even subtle humor. Our literal interpretations, however, can be problematic.
In first grade, whenever someone made a mess in the classroom, the teacher would ask a student to get the janitor. The student would come back with Mr. Jones (not really his name), who carried a broom and large folding dustpan. When I was asked to get the janitor, I looked all over the school and reported back to the teacher that I could not find it. After all, the person was Mr. Jones, so the janitor must be the object, right?
I lack the ability to see emotion in most facial expressions. I compensate for this deficiency by listening to the inflections in people's voices and using logic to determine emotional context. The words people choose, their movements, or even how quickly they exit a meeting can provide clues to emotion.
I also have intensified senses -- touch, taste, smell, sight, and sound -- so I am attuned to lights, noise, textures, and smells. In a "busy" environment, I will eventually go into sensory overload and my mind will go blank. When this happens, I have to "go away" mentally for a brief period to regain focus. When I "return," I have to piece together what occurred while I was "away." The additional mental processing I must do to function every day is fatiguing, and I don't handle "ad hoc" very well. Being asked to respond quickly in the midst of all this other processing is difficult, sometimes impossible.
I am so sensitive to touch that a tickle hurts me. This is the hardest concept for most people to understand. How can a tickle hurt? All I can tell you is that it does, so I avoid being touched except by those who have learned how to touch me.
Hugs are dispensed infrequently, but if I do hug someone, I resemble Frankenstein's monster, arms extended to control contact. When my dad (who I suspect is an Aspie, too) and I hug, we both have "the approach." We sometimes miss and have to re-approach a couple of times until a brief, awkward hug is achieved.
In school, other children noted my differences, and I was bullied (and tickled into fits of despair) for years. Already needing extended periods of time alone, my response was to become even more of a loner. Uh oh. When you are weird, you are a joke. When you are a loner, you frighten people. It's always the quiet ones. ...
I am married (wow!), and my brilliant husband is an absolute sweetheart. I don't know any other man who has the self-confidence to be pushed away (sometimes sharply), both physically and mentally, as often as he has been. He has been gentle and patient (and, yes, frequently emotionally depleted) as we both worked through my need for space, tendency to go so deep into my own world that the real world and everyone in it cease to exist, and sensitivity to touch during the 26 (soon to be 27) years of our marriage.
I live with anxiety, because the world can be overwhelming and people have expectations that I always, sooner or later, fail to meet. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I have been told that I am rude, inaccessible or cold, yet I have never purposely tried to harm anyone, nor do I mean to be, well, mean.
I could tell you so much more, but instead let me share one last insight. Don't pity me or try to cure or change me. If you could live in my head for just one day, you might weep at how much beauty I perceive in the world with my exquisite senses. I would not trade one small bit of that beauty, as overwhelming and powerful as it can be, for "normalcy."
I like this article because I, too, also suffered from Autism. The word "Earthbound" also reminds me of that old NES (Nintendo Entertainment System) video game Earthbound since it also meant something about aliens and does it like to be one of them. ^^
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
FDA suspects cantaloupe, salmonella link
WASHINGTON (AP) -- People should throw away cantaloupes from a Honduran manufacturer believed to be linked to a salmonella outbreak.
The Food and Drug Administration issued the alert Saturday for melons from Agropecuaria Montelibano. Grocers are advised to remove from their stock any cantaloupes from this company. People should check with stores to see whether recently purchased cantaloupes came from Honduras.
So far, 50 people have become sickened in 16 states and nine have become ill in Canada after eating the cantaloupes. No deaths have been reported, although 14 people have been hospitalized, the FDA said.
The government also is seeking to detain all cantaloupes shipped to the United States by Agropecuaria Montelibano.
The FDA said it was taking this step while it continues to investigate the outbreak with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and individual states.
To reduce the risk of contracting salmonella or other foodborne illnesses from cantaloupes, the FDA recommends:
• Purchasing cantaloupes that are not bruised or damaged. If buying fresh-cut cantaloupe, refrigerate or surround it with ice.
• Washing hands with hot, soapy water before or after handling fresh cantaloupes.
• Scrubbing whole cantaloupes by using a clean produce brush and cool tap water immediately before eating.
• Cutting away and not eating bruised or damaged areas of the cantaloupe.
• Discarding leftover cut cantaloupe if left at room temperature for more than two hours.
Symptoms of foodborne salmonella infection include nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea and abdominal cramps.
The 16 states that have reported illnesses are Arizona, California, Colorado, Georgia, Illinois, Missouri, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Tennessee, Utah, Washington and Wisconsin.
Salmonella is a very serious disease. Thats why I post this to warn anyone who wants to be a deer hunter when they grow up.^^
The Food and Drug Administration issued the alert Saturday for melons from Agropecuaria Montelibano. Grocers are advised to remove from their stock any cantaloupes from this company. People should check with stores to see whether recently purchased cantaloupes came from Honduras.
So far, 50 people have become sickened in 16 states and nine have become ill in Canada after eating the cantaloupes. No deaths have been reported, although 14 people have been hospitalized, the FDA said.
The government also is seeking to detain all cantaloupes shipped to the United States by Agropecuaria Montelibano.
The FDA said it was taking this step while it continues to investigate the outbreak with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and individual states.
To reduce the risk of contracting salmonella or other foodborne illnesses from cantaloupes, the FDA recommends:
• Purchasing cantaloupes that are not bruised or damaged. If buying fresh-cut cantaloupe, refrigerate or surround it with ice.
• Washing hands with hot, soapy water before or after handling fresh cantaloupes.
• Scrubbing whole cantaloupes by using a clean produce brush and cool tap water immediately before eating.
• Cutting away and not eating bruised or damaged areas of the cantaloupe.
• Discarding leftover cut cantaloupe if left at room temperature for more than two hours.
Symptoms of foodborne salmonella infection include nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea and abdominal cramps.
The 16 states that have reported illnesses are Arizona, California, Colorado, Georgia, Illinois, Missouri, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Tennessee, Utah, Washington and Wisconsin.
Salmonella is a very serious disease. Thats why I post this to warn anyone who wants to be a deer hunter when they grow up.^^
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tourists hit 'cheaper' Japan
TOKYO, Japan (AP) -- His head wrapped in cloth and wearing black head-to-toe, Michael Studte throws darts, turns summersaults and twirls lassos in a ninja class for foreign tourists in Japan.
"It didn't seem quite like the normal touristy showy sort of thing," the 40-year-old information-technology engineer from Perth, Australia, said Wednesday, a little breathless after pushing down a mock opponent.
Foreign visitors have always flocked to old tourist spots in Japan like Kyoto, the Sapporo Snow Festival, hot-springs baths and Mount Fuji.
But these days, they're also checking out new offbeat ways to experience Japan like ninja classes, a geeky pop culture in Tokyo's Akihabara gadget district and animation museums displaying manga, or Japanese-style cartoons.
And they're coming in record numbers -- many of them from elsewhere in Asia. Last year, an all-time high 8.34 million foreign tourists visited Japan, up 14 percent from the previous year.
Japan -- traditionally considered an expensive destination -- has become cheaper for many because of the recent surges in the euro, Australian dollar and other Asian currencies against the yen, says Junsuke Imai, a government bureaucrat in charge of promoting the 25 trillion yen ($232 billion; 157 billion euros) a year tourism industry. The government has set a goal of raising that to 30 trillion yen ($278 billion; 188 billion euros) by 2010, Imai said.
Even Americans, whose dollars have weakened against the yen, are visiting Japan in about the same numbers. The 815,900 visitors last year was unchanged from the previous year.
Eager to accommodate the droves of foreign tourists, Tokyo department stores now employ clerks who speak Korean, put up signs in English and French, and accept Chinese-style debit cards, which were previously rejected.
The number of Japanese stores, restaurants and hotels that accept a dominant debit card, China Union Pay, has jumped 50 percent to about 8,400 from the previous year, partly because of efforts by the government to promote tourism.
"Chinese people easily buy three times what average Japanese buy in one visit," says Hiroyuki Nemoto, director of Invest Japan Business Support Centers, a government-backed organization.
Department stores are hoping to make up for dropping consumer spending among Japanese with the stronger buying power of China, South Korea and other Asian nations.
Visitors from neighboring Asian nations are finding it quicker and easier to travel to Japan to buy European designer items than to go all the way to Europe, said Tatsuya Momose, spokesman for the tony Takashimaya department store in Tokyo.
"We are so grateful for this," he said of the flood of Asian shoppers.
The appeal of Japan as a travel destination is mostly its novelty, as Koreans have already traveled a fair amount to the U.S., Europe and China, said Park Yongman, counselor at the Embassy of the Republic of Korea in Tokyo.
"These days, Japan is seen as the best place to travel," he said, adding that the changing image of Japan has done wonders.
Young Koreans don't harbor the bitter memories of Japan's brutal colonization of the Korean Peninsula before and during World War II. These days, Japan is emerging the perfect spot to enjoy animation, video games, movies and other entertainment, he said.
For the first time ever, the 2.6 million Koreans visiting Japan last year surpassed the 2.2 million Japanese visiting Korea. Adding to the momentum is the strengthening won, up 6 percent against the yen over the last year.
The visitors at the 15,000 yen ($139; 94 euro) ninja class said they had seen ninja in samurai movies, manga and the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," and wanted to try it out.
The travel agency that set up the 2-1/2 hour ninja class, H.I.S. Experience Japan Co., also offers make-your-own-sushi workshops, "taiko" drumming classes, a visit with sumo wrestlers and sake tasting.
Ninja master Masayuki Waki, 49, who was teaching newcomers the art of fleeing grabs and choke holds, acknowledged foreigners were more interested in spirituality and other things Japanese than are most Japanese.
"They are so dedicated," he said. "People abroad are far more drawn to the sensibilities of survival than are Japanese, who tend to take comforts for granted."
Jason Chan, 28, an information-technology business analyst from London, who has also visited Spain, Germany and Hong Kong, said he had fun playing ninja.
"I watched the movies, and ninjas are always the ones that get away," he said. "Generally it's a misconception that traveling in Japan is really expensive. I actually find it pretty reasonable compared to everywhere else."
I agree too. There are lots of Japanese entertainment and leisures I always wanted to see in this country.
"It didn't seem quite like the normal touristy showy sort of thing," the 40-year-old information-technology engineer from Perth, Australia, said Wednesday, a little breathless after pushing down a mock opponent.
Foreign visitors have always flocked to old tourist spots in Japan like Kyoto, the Sapporo Snow Festival, hot-springs baths and Mount Fuji.
But these days, they're also checking out new offbeat ways to experience Japan like ninja classes, a geeky pop culture in Tokyo's Akihabara gadget district and animation museums displaying manga, or Japanese-style cartoons.
And they're coming in record numbers -- many of them from elsewhere in Asia. Last year, an all-time high 8.34 million foreign tourists visited Japan, up 14 percent from the previous year.
Japan -- traditionally considered an expensive destination -- has become cheaper for many because of the recent surges in the euro, Australian dollar and other Asian currencies against the yen, says Junsuke Imai, a government bureaucrat in charge of promoting the 25 trillion yen ($232 billion; 157 billion euros) a year tourism industry. The government has set a goal of raising that to 30 trillion yen ($278 billion; 188 billion euros) by 2010, Imai said.
Even Americans, whose dollars have weakened against the yen, are visiting Japan in about the same numbers. The 815,900 visitors last year was unchanged from the previous year.
Eager to accommodate the droves of foreign tourists, Tokyo department stores now employ clerks who speak Korean, put up signs in English and French, and accept Chinese-style debit cards, which were previously rejected.
The number of Japanese stores, restaurants and hotels that accept a dominant debit card, China Union Pay, has jumped 50 percent to about 8,400 from the previous year, partly because of efforts by the government to promote tourism.
"Chinese people easily buy three times what average Japanese buy in one visit," says Hiroyuki Nemoto, director of Invest Japan Business Support Centers, a government-backed organization.
Department stores are hoping to make up for dropping consumer spending among Japanese with the stronger buying power of China, South Korea and other Asian nations.
Visitors from neighboring Asian nations are finding it quicker and easier to travel to Japan to buy European designer items than to go all the way to Europe, said Tatsuya Momose, spokesman for the tony Takashimaya department store in Tokyo.
"We are so grateful for this," he said of the flood of Asian shoppers.
The appeal of Japan as a travel destination is mostly its novelty, as Koreans have already traveled a fair amount to the U.S., Europe and China, said Park Yongman, counselor at the Embassy of the Republic of Korea in Tokyo.
"These days, Japan is seen as the best place to travel," he said, adding that the changing image of Japan has done wonders.
Young Koreans don't harbor the bitter memories of Japan's brutal colonization of the Korean Peninsula before and during World War II. These days, Japan is emerging the perfect spot to enjoy animation, video games, movies and other entertainment, he said.
For the first time ever, the 2.6 million Koreans visiting Japan last year surpassed the 2.2 million Japanese visiting Korea. Adding to the momentum is the strengthening won, up 6 percent against the yen over the last year.
The visitors at the 15,000 yen ($139; 94 euro) ninja class said they had seen ninja in samurai movies, manga and the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," and wanted to try it out.
The travel agency that set up the 2-1/2 hour ninja class, H.I.S. Experience Japan Co., also offers make-your-own-sushi workshops, "taiko" drumming classes, a visit with sumo wrestlers and sake tasting.
Ninja master Masayuki Waki, 49, who was teaching newcomers the art of fleeing grabs and choke holds, acknowledged foreigners were more interested in spirituality and other things Japanese than are most Japanese.
"They are so dedicated," he said. "People abroad are far more drawn to the sensibilities of survival than are Japanese, who tend to take comforts for granted."
Jason Chan, 28, an information-technology business analyst from London, who has also visited Spain, Germany and Hong Kong, said he had fun playing ninja.
"I watched the movies, and ninjas are always the ones that get away," he said. "Generally it's a misconception that traveling in Japan is really expensive. I actually find it pretty reasonable compared to everywhere else."
I agree too. There are lots of Japanese entertainment and leisures I always wanted to see in this country.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Getting the Whole Picture, in and Out of Class
RESPONDING to the film classes and clubs proliferating in high schools around the county, the Westchester International Film Festival has added a Future Filmmakers Division this year. The student submissions in grades 9 through 12 will be screened at the City Center 15: Cinema de Lux in White Plains on March 9 and, through the support of the Matthew S. Hisiger Film Foundation, the student capturing first prize will win $1,000 and the student’s school will receive a professional high-definition camera package valued at $5,000.
Iris Stevens is the director of both the Westchester County Office of Film and Television and the film festival. When she and members of her staff called every high school in the county to promote their new competition, they discovered what she called a “staggering statistic.”
“Of the 63 public and private high schools in Westchester,” she said, “only 12 do not have some form of film education!”
At Hastings High School, the English department chairman, Michael Mahony, has been teaching two film courses — analyzing Hollywood films and creating nonfiction films — since 1994. Recent annual enrollment has been as high as 90 students. The school has had a Film Society for more than 10 years and a film festival for three. As part of a new senior alternative last spring, 15 students worked on a documentary under Dr. Mahony’s direction and several current seniors have already approached him to sponsor their individual filmmaking efforts.
“Film is one medium that students seem to intrinsically value, maybe more than any other, and students from both ends of the academic spectrum thrive in the classes,” Dr. Mahony said. “Recently, I’ve had many more who are seriously considering the film industry.” A number of his former students have gone on to film school, and Benh Zeitlin, a 2000 Hastings High School graduate, won the award for Best Animated Short at the 2005 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City, Utah.
Byram Hills High School offered only one film media class when David McMichael began teaching in its art department 10 years ago. Now, he and another teacher work with about 150 students each year in Film I, Film II and Advanced Film Workshop. The school has two film clubs — one for watching and one for making movies — and a yearly screening of the best student films.
“Kids are watching a ton more films these days in so many different ways — on iPods, computers, pay-per-view, DVDs — and it has become technically much easier to make a film because extremely sophisticated tools are less expensive and easier to acquire,” Mr. McMichael said. “And since students are able to make movies in school and be involved in so many aspects of filmmaking — operating the camera, directing, acting and editing — they can get a better idea of the whole picture.”
Six years ago, Eastchester High School’s director of technology, Anita Better, recognized the need for a full-time person to take charge of the school’s TV studio and Michael Goldstein was hired as a teaching media specialist. After converting the simple studio to a media production center, he began teaching two levels of film courses in which, he said, he covers “all factors from pre- to postproduction, including concept ideas, screenplay writing and formatting, storyboard design, filming, lighting, sound and computer-based editing.” Mr. Goldstein anticipates that the Eastchester Film Festival, complete with its own version of the Academy Awards, will screen close to three hours of student films this spring.
“I don’t think this increased interest in film is a blip or an aberration,” Ms. Stevens said. “It’s something that’s very real within the teen and young adult community. Education is changing in response to the kinds of careers young people want to go into and filmmaking is becoming a major player.”
I think every school should have courses designed to teach real life skills geared to careers. Film making is a good job for students who like art.
Iris Stevens is the director of both the Westchester County Office of Film and Television and the film festival. When she and members of her staff called every high school in the county to promote their new competition, they discovered what she called a “staggering statistic.”
“Of the 63 public and private high schools in Westchester,” she said, “only 12 do not have some form of film education!”
At Hastings High School, the English department chairman, Michael Mahony, has been teaching two film courses — analyzing Hollywood films and creating nonfiction films — since 1994. Recent annual enrollment has been as high as 90 students. The school has had a Film Society for more than 10 years and a film festival for three. As part of a new senior alternative last spring, 15 students worked on a documentary under Dr. Mahony’s direction and several current seniors have already approached him to sponsor their individual filmmaking efforts.
“Film is one medium that students seem to intrinsically value, maybe more than any other, and students from both ends of the academic spectrum thrive in the classes,” Dr. Mahony said. “Recently, I’ve had many more who are seriously considering the film industry.” A number of his former students have gone on to film school, and Benh Zeitlin, a 2000 Hastings High School graduate, won the award for Best Animated Short at the 2005 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City, Utah.
Byram Hills High School offered only one film media class when David McMichael began teaching in its art department 10 years ago. Now, he and another teacher work with about 150 students each year in Film I, Film II and Advanced Film Workshop. The school has two film clubs — one for watching and one for making movies — and a yearly screening of the best student films.
“Kids are watching a ton more films these days in so many different ways — on iPods, computers, pay-per-view, DVDs — and it has become technically much easier to make a film because extremely sophisticated tools are less expensive and easier to acquire,” Mr. McMichael said. “And since students are able to make movies in school and be involved in so many aspects of filmmaking — operating the camera, directing, acting and editing — they can get a better idea of the whole picture.”
Six years ago, Eastchester High School’s director of technology, Anita Better, recognized the need for a full-time person to take charge of the school’s TV studio and Michael Goldstein was hired as a teaching media specialist. After converting the simple studio to a media production center, he began teaching two levels of film courses in which, he said, he covers “all factors from pre- to postproduction, including concept ideas, screenplay writing and formatting, storyboard design, filming, lighting, sound and computer-based editing.” Mr. Goldstein anticipates that the Eastchester Film Festival, complete with its own version of the Academy Awards, will screen close to three hours of student films this spring.
“I don’t think this increased interest in film is a blip or an aberration,” Ms. Stevens said. “It’s something that’s very real within the teen and young adult community. Education is changing in response to the kinds of careers young people want to go into and filmmaking is becoming a major player.”
I think every school should have courses designed to teach real life skills geared to careers. Film making is a good job for students who like art.
Fewer Youths Jump Behind the Wheel at 16
DETROIT — For generations, driver’s licenses have been tickets to freedom for America’s 16-year-olds, prompting many to line up at motor vehicle offices the day they were eligible to apply.
No longer. In the last decade, the proportion of 16-year-olds nationwide who hold driver’s licenses has dropped from nearly half to less than one-third, according to statistics from the Federal Highway Administration.
Reasons vary, including tighter state laws governing when teenagers can drive, higher insurance costs and a shift from school-run driver education to expensive private driving academies.
To that mix, experts also add parents who are willing to chauffeur their children to activities, and pastimes like surfing the Web that keep them indoors and glued to computers.
Jaclyn Frederick, 17, of suburban Detroit, is a year past the age when she could get a Michigan license. She said she planned to apply for one eventually, but sees no rush.
“Oh, I guess I just haven’t done it yet, you know?” said Jaclyn, a senior at Ferndale High School, in Ferndale, Mich.
“I get rides and stuff, so I’m not worried about it. I’ll get around to it, maybe this summer sometime.”
Until she does, she has company. The national rate of licensed 16-year-olds dropped to 29.8 percent in 2006 from 43.8 percent in 1998, according to the Federal Highway Administration.
The falling rate of teenage drivers is perplexing to Michael T. Marsden, an expert on car culture and dean of St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wis.
“It’s a big change in a major American ritual of driving as early as possible,” Mr. Marsden said.
The way students learn has undergone a major change, too. Twenty-five years ago most teenagers took driver’s education in their local schools. But the number of school systems offering the program has plummeted to about 20 percent today, from 90 percent in the 1980s, said Allen R. Robinson, chief executive of the American Driver and Traffic Safety Education Association, which represents high school and commercial driver education instructors.
“High schools are out of the business because of the cost,” said Henning Mortensen, owner of Bond Driving School in Sacramento.
Commercial driving academies have stepped in to fill the gap. For example, in Louisiana, the number of private schools has grown to about 60 this year, from just two in 1993, said Sheila Vernado, a spokeswoman for the Driving School Association of the Americas, which represents owners of commercial driving agencies.
In contrast to high schools, which offered driver’s education as a regular class or for a modest fee during the summer, driving schools charge higher rates. Mr. Mortensen, who has been in business since 1990, said his average program runs about $400.
Insurance costs are also rising. Where parents used to be able to add their young drivers to their policies for a nominal charge, it now costs 80 percent to 100 percent more to add a 16-year-old to a family’s auto policy, said Raleigh Floyd, a spokesman for the Allstate Corporation in Northbrook, Ill. The highest rate is charged if the teenager owns a vehicle, he said.
Over all, teenage drivers have the highest crash risk of any group. Car accidents account for one-third of all deaths of 16- to 18-year-olds, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.
Graduated driver-licensing laws, which delay awarding a full license until a teenager spends time with a parent or driving under certain conditions, are also keeping down the number of 16-year-olds on the road, said Frederik R. Mottola, executive director of the National Institute for Driver Behavior, which promotes driver education.
“Now people are learning that the more repetition you can give the teens, the better,” Mr. Mottola said.
These laws, in existence for about a decade, have helped reduce the number of fatal crashes involving 16-year-old drivers by about 11 percent, according to a 2006 study by the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. That average increases to 20 percent for states with the strictest laws.
Forty-nine states allow young drivers to obtain restricted licenses before, on or within a few months of their 16th birthday. (The age for a restricted license is as low as 14 in some states.) New Jersey requires a driver to be 17 years old.
Sweeping changes to teenage driving laws in Illinois ranked the state among the nation’s most restrictive, said Melissa Savage, policy analyst for the National Conference of State Legislatures.
The Illinois laws, in effect since January, set a weekend driving curfew of 11 p.m. (10 p.m. on weeknights) for drivers up to 17 years old. They also tripled the length of a learner’s permit from 3 to 9 months and increased the number of training hours behind the wheel to 6 hours from 1 hour of actual driving time. (Previously, computer simulation could substitute for the other five hours.)
In Delaware, teenagers not fully licensed may not drive between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m.
Indeed, the fatal crash rate for 16-year-olds driving at night is twice as high as it is during the day, according to the National Transportation Safety Board.
At the other end of the spectrum are states like North Dakota, which allows a learner’s permit at 14 and has no minimum supervised-driving requirements, according to the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, which evaluates graduated licensing laws.
Beyond the tighter regulations, some parents are just not encouraging lessons, said Naomi Drew, author of “Peaceful Parents, Peaceful Kids,” which studied family lifestyles.
“The roads are angrier these days,” she said. “Parents are worried for their children’s safety.”
One such parent is Teresa Sheffer, of Bethlehem, Ga. Her daughter, Kelsey, has had a permit for nearly two years, but is not yet fully licensed because of her mother’s safety concerns.
Ms. Sheffer, a pediatric nurse, even paid a police officer to drive with Kelsey to previous accident sites and graphically explain what had happened.
“This is in hope of instilling an element of fear,” Ms. Sheffer said. “Cars are lethal weapons, and I want to make sure she has the experience she needs, and knows what can happen when you don’t pay attention.”
Kelsey, who will turn 17 in June, said she had lost the motivation to pursue her full license. For now, her mother is happy to shuttle her to swimming and cheerleader practice.
“I’m disappointed, but if I had my license mom probably wouldn’t let me drive anyway,” Kelsey said. “But even if I did, I’d have to drive our minivan.” That prospect, she said, “is just totally not cool.”
I agree with the parents. Children shouldn’t have their driver’s license until the age of 17.
No longer. In the last decade, the proportion of 16-year-olds nationwide who hold driver’s licenses has dropped from nearly half to less than one-third, according to statistics from the Federal Highway Administration.
Reasons vary, including tighter state laws governing when teenagers can drive, higher insurance costs and a shift from school-run driver education to expensive private driving academies.
To that mix, experts also add parents who are willing to chauffeur their children to activities, and pastimes like surfing the Web that keep them indoors and glued to computers.
Jaclyn Frederick, 17, of suburban Detroit, is a year past the age when she could get a Michigan license. She said she planned to apply for one eventually, but sees no rush.
“Oh, I guess I just haven’t done it yet, you know?” said Jaclyn, a senior at Ferndale High School, in Ferndale, Mich.
“I get rides and stuff, so I’m not worried about it. I’ll get around to it, maybe this summer sometime.”
Until she does, she has company. The national rate of licensed 16-year-olds dropped to 29.8 percent in 2006 from 43.8 percent in 1998, according to the Federal Highway Administration.
The falling rate of teenage drivers is perplexing to Michael T. Marsden, an expert on car culture and dean of St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wis.
“It’s a big change in a major American ritual of driving as early as possible,” Mr. Marsden said.
The way students learn has undergone a major change, too. Twenty-five years ago most teenagers took driver’s education in their local schools. But the number of school systems offering the program has plummeted to about 20 percent today, from 90 percent in the 1980s, said Allen R. Robinson, chief executive of the American Driver and Traffic Safety Education Association, which represents high school and commercial driver education instructors.
“High schools are out of the business because of the cost,” said Henning Mortensen, owner of Bond Driving School in Sacramento.
Commercial driving academies have stepped in to fill the gap. For example, in Louisiana, the number of private schools has grown to about 60 this year, from just two in 1993, said Sheila Vernado, a spokeswoman for the Driving School Association of the Americas, which represents owners of commercial driving agencies.
In contrast to high schools, which offered driver’s education as a regular class or for a modest fee during the summer, driving schools charge higher rates. Mr. Mortensen, who has been in business since 1990, said his average program runs about $400.
Insurance costs are also rising. Where parents used to be able to add their young drivers to their policies for a nominal charge, it now costs 80 percent to 100 percent more to add a 16-year-old to a family’s auto policy, said Raleigh Floyd, a spokesman for the Allstate Corporation in Northbrook, Ill. The highest rate is charged if the teenager owns a vehicle, he said.
Over all, teenage drivers have the highest crash risk of any group. Car accidents account for one-third of all deaths of 16- to 18-year-olds, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.
Graduated driver-licensing laws, which delay awarding a full license until a teenager spends time with a parent or driving under certain conditions, are also keeping down the number of 16-year-olds on the road, said Frederik R. Mottola, executive director of the National Institute for Driver Behavior, which promotes driver education.
“Now people are learning that the more repetition you can give the teens, the better,” Mr. Mottola said.
These laws, in existence for about a decade, have helped reduce the number of fatal crashes involving 16-year-old drivers by about 11 percent, according to a 2006 study by the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. That average increases to 20 percent for states with the strictest laws.
Forty-nine states allow young drivers to obtain restricted licenses before, on or within a few months of their 16th birthday. (The age for a restricted license is as low as 14 in some states.) New Jersey requires a driver to be 17 years old.
Sweeping changes to teenage driving laws in Illinois ranked the state among the nation’s most restrictive, said Melissa Savage, policy analyst for the National Conference of State Legislatures.
The Illinois laws, in effect since January, set a weekend driving curfew of 11 p.m. (10 p.m. on weeknights) for drivers up to 17 years old. They also tripled the length of a learner’s permit from 3 to 9 months and increased the number of training hours behind the wheel to 6 hours from 1 hour of actual driving time. (Previously, computer simulation could substitute for the other five hours.)
In Delaware, teenagers not fully licensed may not drive between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m.
Indeed, the fatal crash rate for 16-year-olds driving at night is twice as high as it is during the day, according to the National Transportation Safety Board.
At the other end of the spectrum are states like North Dakota, which allows a learner’s permit at 14 and has no minimum supervised-driving requirements, according to the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, which evaluates graduated licensing laws.
Beyond the tighter regulations, some parents are just not encouraging lessons, said Naomi Drew, author of “Peaceful Parents, Peaceful Kids,” which studied family lifestyles.
“The roads are angrier these days,” she said. “Parents are worried for their children’s safety.”
One such parent is Teresa Sheffer, of Bethlehem, Ga. Her daughter, Kelsey, has had a permit for nearly two years, but is not yet fully licensed because of her mother’s safety concerns.
Ms. Sheffer, a pediatric nurse, even paid a police officer to drive with Kelsey to previous accident sites and graphically explain what had happened.
“This is in hope of instilling an element of fear,” Ms. Sheffer said. “Cars are lethal weapons, and I want to make sure she has the experience she needs, and knows what can happen when you don’t pay attention.”
Kelsey, who will turn 17 in June, said she had lost the motivation to pursue her full license. For now, her mother is happy to shuttle her to swimming and cheerleader practice.
“I’m disappointed, but if I had my license mom probably wouldn’t let me drive anyway,” Kelsey said. “But even if I did, I’d have to drive our minivan.” That prospect, she said, “is just totally not cool.”
I agree with the parents. Children shouldn’t have their driver’s license until the age of 17.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
On a Branch by Issa
On a branch
floating downriver
a cricket, singing.
Another good haiku ^^ This also gives a description of a sound of nature
floating downriver
a cricket, singing.
Another good haiku ^^ This also gives a description of a sound of nature
In Kyoto by Basho
In Kyoto,
hearing the cuckoo,
I long for Kyoto.
A very good haiku. ^^ I love how this poet describes Kyoto.
hearing the cuckoo,
I long for Kyoto.
A very good haiku. ^^ I love how this poet describes Kyoto.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Caged Bird by Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
From "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
From "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou
John Lennon by Mary Jo Salter
The music was already turning sad,
those fresh-faced voices singing in a round
the lie that time could set its needle back
and play from the beginning. Had you lived
to eighty, as you’d wished, who knows?—you might
have broken from the circle of that past
more ours than yours. Never even sure
which was the truest color for your hair
(it changed with each photographer), we claimed
you for ourselves; called you John and named
the day you left us (spun out like a reel—
the last broadcast to prove you’d lived at all)
an end to hope itself. It isn’t true,
and worse, does you no justice if we call
your death the death of anything but you.
II
It put you in the headlines once again:
years after you’d left the band, you joined
another—of those whose lives, in breaking, link
all memory with their end. The studio
of history can tamper with you now,
as if there’d always been a single track
chance traveled on, and your discordant voice
had led us to the final violence.
Yet like the times when I, a star-crossed fan,
had catalogued your favorite foods, your views
on monarchy and war, and gaily clipped
your quips and daily antics from the news,
I keep a loving record of your death.
All the evidence is in—of what,
and to what end, it’s hard to figure out,
riddles you might have beat into a song.
A younger face of yours, a cover shot,
peered from all the newsstands as if proof
of some noteworthy thing you’d newly done.
Once again another sad poem. T.T
those fresh-faced voices singing in a round
the lie that time could set its needle back
and play from the beginning. Had you lived
to eighty, as you’d wished, who knows?—you might
have broken from the circle of that past
more ours than yours. Never even sure
which was the truest color for your hair
(it changed with each photographer), we claimed
you for ourselves; called you John and named
the day you left us (spun out like a reel—
the last broadcast to prove you’d lived at all)
an end to hope itself. It isn’t true,
and worse, does you no justice if we call
your death the death of anything but you.
II
It put you in the headlines once again:
years after you’d left the band, you joined
another—of those whose lives, in breaking, link
all memory with their end. The studio
of history can tamper with you now,
as if there’d always been a single track
chance traveled on, and your discordant voice
had led us to the final violence.
Yet like the times when I, a star-crossed fan,
had catalogued your favorite foods, your views
on monarchy and war, and gaily clipped
your quips and daily antics from the news,
I keep a loving record of your death.
All the evidence is in—of what,
and to what end, it’s hard to figure out,
riddles you might have beat into a song.
A younger face of yours, a cover shot,
peered from all the newsstands as if proof
of some noteworthy thing you’d newly done.
Once again another sad poem. T.T
Thursday, February 7, 2008
The Assassination of Robert F. Kennedy by Nikki Giovanni
Trees are never felled . . . in summer . . . Not when the fruit . . .
is yet to be borne . . . Never before the promise . . . is fulfilled . . .
Not when their cooling shade . . . has yet to comfort . . .
Yet there are those . . . unheeding of nature . . . indifferent to
ecology . . . ignorant of need . . . who . . . with ax and sharpened
saw . . . would . . . in boots . . . step forth damaging . . .
Not the tree . . . for it falls . . . But those who would . . . in
summer’s heat . . . or winter’s cold . . . contemplate . . . the
beauty . . .
This is a very sad poem. T.T
is yet to be borne . . . Never before the promise . . . is fulfilled . . .
Not when their cooling shade . . . has yet to comfort . . .
Yet there are those . . . unheeding of nature . . . indifferent to
ecology . . . ignorant of need . . . who . . . with ax and sharpened
saw . . . would . . . in boots . . . step forth damaging . . .
Not the tree . . . for it falls . . . But those who would . . . in
summer’s heat . . . or winter’s cold . . . contemplate . . . the
beauty . . .
This is a very sad poem. T.T
The Walrus and the Carpenter by Louis Carroll
"The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright —
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done —
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun."
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead —
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,'
They said, it would be grand!'
If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
That they could get it clear?'
I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.'
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head —
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat —
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more —
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
The time has come,' the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
And whether pigs have wings.'
But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed —
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'
But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
Do you admire the view?
It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf —
I've had to ask you twice!'
It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
The butter's spread too thick!'
I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none —
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one."
Very silly ^^ Esperanza in The House on Mango Street mentioned that poem
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright —
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done —
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun."
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead —
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,'
They said, it would be grand!'
If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
That they could get it clear?'
I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.'
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head —
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat —
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more —
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
The time has come,' the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
And whether pigs have wings.'
But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed —
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'
But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
Do you admire the view?
It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf —
I've had to ask you twice!'
It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
The butter's spread too thick!'
I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none —
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one."
Very silly ^^ Esperanza in The House on Mango Street mentioned that poem
The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Very long poem! ^^ Just to remind us from reading his short stories
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Very long poem! ^^ Just to remind us from reading his short stories
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
This is a great fantasy poem besides reading Alice in Wonderland :)
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
This is a great fantasy poem besides reading Alice in Wonderland :)
Although the Wind by Izumi Shikibu
Although the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also leaks
between the roof planks
of this ruined house.
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also leaks
between the roof planks
of this ruined house.
This poem was originally from Japan and what I like about this poem is that it shows the pros and cons of what was happening in nature.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Forbidden Love by Madonna
Just one kiss on my lips
Was all it took to seal the future
Just one look from your eyes
Was like a certain kind of torture
Once upon a time there was a boy, and there was a girl
Just one touch from your hands
Was all it took to make me falter
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Just one smile on your face
Was all it took to change my fortune
Just one word from your mouth
Was all I needed to be certain
Once upon a time there was a boy, and there was a girl
Hearts that intertwined
We lived in a different kind of world
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Just one kiss
Just one touch
Just one look
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
(repeat)
Just one kiss
Just one touch
Just one look (three)
Just one love (two)
(one)
So how did you like it? It's very romantic. :)
Was all it took to seal the future
Just one look from your eyes
Was like a certain kind of torture
Once upon a time there was a boy, and there was a girl
Just one touch from your hands
Was all it took to make me falter
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Just one smile on your face
Was all it took to change my fortune
Just one word from your mouth
Was all I needed to be certain
Once upon a time there was a boy, and there was a girl
Hearts that intertwined
We lived in a different kind of world
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Just one kiss
Just one touch
Just one look
Forbidden love
Are we supposed to be together?
Forbidden love, forbidden love
Forbidden love
We seal our destiny forever
Forbidden love, forbidden love
(repeat)
Just one kiss
Just one touch
Just one look (three)
Just one love (two)
(one)
So how did you like it? It's very romantic. :)
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