10.31.2010
10.30.2010
it gets better, but don't wait!
i know this is late.
it saddens me that there has been a surge in teen suicides due to lgbt harassment. (EDIT: as julia so wonderfully pointed out to me (thanks, btw), it's just more media coverage. but it still doesn't change the fact that there is hatred.) when will america learn that we are all people, and no one should be discriminated because of anything? it seems that every group that comes to america (besides the first settlers) experienced a time of prejudice. the quakers, the native americans, the african-americans, the italian immigrants, dutch immigrants, chinese immigrants, japanese immigrants have all done their time. but honestly, how needed is this? must we really be a nation that has a "filter" to be american? now, muslims and the homosexual population are being discriminated against. how can this be fair, in the land of the free? where all people have certain unalienable rights?
america is supposed to be freedom. the first amendment declares this be so. freedom of speech. freedom of religion. freedom of the press. freedom to petition. the list goes on. america was viewed before as a land of freedom, where dreams could be freely pursued. is america still this today? or are we viewed as bigots who think nothing of ourselves, and fear everything/everyone different from ourselves? i urge all of you to ask yourselves this and consider it.
i, for one, declare that i am guilty of discrimination--but i do not wish to be so any longer. if you are with me in this effort, please leave me a comment. together, we as a class can change the way our school thinks... and maybe the way the nation thinks. and then maybe, just maybe, the world.
it saddens me that there has been a surge in teen suicides due to lgbt harassment. (EDIT: as julia so wonderfully pointed out to me (thanks, btw), it's just more media coverage. but it still doesn't change the fact that there is hatred.) when will america learn that we are all people, and no one should be discriminated because of anything? it seems that every group that comes to america (besides the first settlers) experienced a time of prejudice. the quakers, the native americans, the african-americans, the italian immigrants, dutch immigrants, chinese immigrants, japanese immigrants have all done their time. but honestly, how needed is this? must we really be a nation that has a "filter" to be american? now, muslims and the homosexual population are being discriminated against. how can this be fair, in the land of the free? where all people have certain unalienable rights?
america is supposed to be freedom. the first amendment declares this be so. freedom of speech. freedom of religion. freedom of the press. freedom to petition. the list goes on. america was viewed before as a land of freedom, where dreams could be freely pursued. is america still this today? or are we viewed as bigots who think nothing of ourselves, and fear everything/everyone different from ourselves? i urge all of you to ask yourselves this and consider it.
i, for one, declare that i am guilty of discrimination--but i do not wish to be so any longer. if you are with me in this effort, please leave me a comment. together, we as a class can change the way our school thinks... and maybe the way the nation thinks. and then maybe, just maybe, the world.
10.29.2010
the translation.
for all of you math buffs, no, it is not the sliding of something around in a plane keeping orientation the same and all. (bad joke, sorry.)
i really liked this story, surprisingly. the opening was a little weird and it took me a bit to follow and understand it, but i ultimately got it. which is really good. i don't think i've done enough analysis of the short while i read it to say anything about joyce carol oates's personal style, but i think i agree with what she's saying--the fact that if we go to a foreign country with a translator, the translator becomes one of our senses. depending on who our translator is, we will have a good or bad experience, as shown by oliver's story.
the translation is a short story about a middle-aged man named oliver who goes to russia. i'm thinking that this takes place during the time period where russia is still the ussr because there's some underlying tension between oliver and the setting (though not exactly man versus nature...) as he seems amazed that people can be living so well behind the iron curtain. (this comes with the disclaimer from before, i don't know if this is soviet russia. actually, JK he said it was central europe. so somewhere in the ussr but not soviet russia.) oliver is first taken through the city by his first translator, liebert. liebert becomes oliver's mouthpiece and also his method of perceiving other people through their questions and the dialogue that happens between the oliver and his surroundings. oliver eventually meets a woman named alisa who he thinks he falls in love with. however, once oliver's translator is switched, the magic of the city vanishes, and everything (including alisa) is drab, uninteresting, hypocritical, and all sorts of other Things Made of Bad. now, for the analysis. that's the hard part. :(
i really liked this story, surprisingly. the opening was a little weird and it took me a bit to follow and understand it, but i ultimately got it. which is really good. i don't think i've done enough analysis of the short while i read it to say anything about joyce carol oates's personal style, but i think i agree with what she's saying--the fact that if we go to a foreign country with a translator, the translator becomes one of our senses. depending on who our translator is, we will have a good or bad experience, as shown by oliver's story.
the translation is a short story about a middle-aged man named oliver who goes to russia. i'm thinking that this takes place during the time period where russia is still the ussr because there's some underlying tension between oliver and the setting (though not exactly man versus nature...) as he seems amazed that people can be living so well behind the iron curtain. (this comes with the disclaimer from before, i don't know if this is soviet russia. actually, JK he said it was central europe. so somewhere in the ussr but not soviet russia.) oliver is first taken through the city by his first translator, liebert. liebert becomes oliver's mouthpiece and also his method of perceiving other people through their questions and the dialogue that happens between the oliver and his surroundings. oliver eventually meets a woman named alisa who he thinks he falls in love with. however, once oliver's translator is switched, the magic of the city vanishes, and everything (including alisa) is drab, uninteresting, hypocritical, and all sorts of other Things Made of Bad. now, for the analysis. that's the hard part. :(
mobile1: old friends
waiting for the bus near uwajimaya to go to bc 'cuz my mom is picking me up there. i haven't ridden the 245 in a while, so it's almost like seeing an old friend.
edit:
i tried to take the 233, but that gets to bc in a super roundabout fashion so i decided just to ride the 245. the ride seems so much shorter than it normally is, but it was very familiar. it wasn't very nostalgic, though. so kinda like seeing an old friend, but not exactly.
edit:
i tried to take the 233, but that gets to bc in a super roundabout fashion so i decided just to ride the 245. the ride seems so much shorter than it normally is, but it was very familiar. it wasn't very nostalgic, though. so kinda like seeing an old friend, but not exactly.
10.28.2010
mobile updates!
so since inspiration comes at ANY TIME, i've decided to hook up my phone to this doohickey so that i can write down ideas as i see them. i'm going to record the setting and what exactly i'm thinking of. a challenge, as i'm limited to 160 characters. we'll see how this goes.
10.27.2010
musica: tswift! and how she's a great storywriter.
so andrea was All Sorts of Awesome and a Bearer of Good this morning when she lent me the new tswift album, speak now. all the songs are AMAZING (especially mean and better than revenge) and i wholeheartedly recommend them to anyone who would like things to listen to.
i think authors can learn from songwriters, because they have such a limited time to tell a story (OH MY GOODNESS LIKE IN COMMON APP WHERE WE HAVE ONLY LIKE 150 WORDS TO SAY ANYTHING GOOD) and they do it pretty successfully most of the time. in "speak now," taylor's able to address both the present, the past, and all the characters and their yearnings. same with "back to december." and... "mean." a little bit. i think the songs that she released as singles address the stories of the characters and just fill many of the aspects of story-writing that we've look at as a class. ke$ha, however, does not do this. woe.
i think authors can learn from songwriters, because they have such a limited time to tell a story (OH MY GOODNESS LIKE IN COMMON APP WHERE WE HAVE ONLY LIKE 150 WORDS TO SAY ANYTHING GOOD) and they do it pretty successfully most of the time. in "speak now," taylor's able to address both the present, the past, and all the characters and their yearnings. same with "back to december." and... "mean." a little bit. i think the songs that she released as singles address the stories of the characters and just fill many of the aspects of story-writing that we've look at as a class. ke$ha, however, does not do this. woe.
10.26.2010
muse:poison
muse:
i'm reading your story, your life on my brightly lit computer screen. perfect, perfect, perfect, that's all this is. all because you've felt needed by somebody. wanted by somebody. loved by somebody. the lack of that burns through my veins like a poison, igniting something within me that you've never seen before. your story, your perfection is all i've ever wanted. and though it's fitting (because you've struggled so much), i can't help but feel cheated. how can this even be fair? i shouldn't be feeling this anger against you, you have no hand in the matter. but it's seeping through me entirely and i can't help but hate you just a little bit for having what i've sought for so long.
i'm reading your story, your life on my brightly lit computer screen. perfect, perfect, perfect, that's all this is. all because you've felt needed by somebody. wanted by somebody. loved by somebody. the lack of that burns through my veins like a poison, igniting something within me that you've never seen before. your story, your perfection is all i've ever wanted. and though it's fitting (because you've struggled so much), i can't help but feel cheated. how can this even be fair? i shouldn't be feeling this anger against you, you have no hand in the matter. but it's seeping through me entirely and i can't help but hate you just a little bit for having what i've sought for so long.
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