Here is the video of Nicholas White stuck in an elevator for 41 hours. Don't worry, it's not 41 hours long. Just 3 minutes, 11 seconds.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
LADY GAGA
I saw this woman perform on "American Idol" a year ago and I lost my mind because she had lost her mind and all those people who make "American Idol" run had lost their collective mind.
Then I read this article, and some of it made sense. Written by Sasha Frere-Jones
Dedicated fans of popular music have a certain conversation at least once a year. Call it The Question of Endurance. You and your friends are talking about music, and the conversation turns to a popular band. You express support. A friend voices her opinion, maybe as favorable as yours, but appends a qualifier: “I like them, but will they be around in ten years?” You may feel compelled to defend whomever it is you’re talking about, covering the present moment and the future with your positive take. After trying this approach, though, you realize that pop music has no Constitution and doesn’t operate like a de-facto Supreme Court: precedent is not always established, and isn’t even necessary. Pop rarely accretes in a tidy, serial manner—it zigs, zags, eats itself, and falls over its shoelaces. Some pop successes go head to head with Blake and Bach; others win their blue ribbons by doing everything upside down and out of tune.
Exceptional pop creates a precedent precisely by abrogating the presumptive rules. How did that grouchy Bob Dylan become a critical favorite by spitting back at interviewers with silence and riddles? (Didn’t being cute and funny help the Beatles? Why would the opposite behavior work just as well, and at exactly the same time?) How did the Jamaican shantytown hero Bob Marley become an American Ivy League dorm-room staple? How did the tiny, androgynous Prince become a hero to alpha-male guitar-solo fiends? Pop acts become classic when they reveal the contingent nature of “classic.”
So it goes with one-hit (or two-hit) wonders, who can also become classics—or not. The nature of pop recycling makes it hard to measure, or define, endurance. In 1980, Gary Numan’s synthesizer pop song “Cars” was a reliable presence on broadcast radio here and in the United Kingdom. By 1985, though, you’d have been hard pressed to find a trace of Numan in the mainstream of pop. Today, he’s ubiquitous—“Cars” has been referenced in television shows and pop songs steadily throughout the past decade, and Numan’s synthesizer sounds are audible in the work of tiny Brooklyn bands and enormous stars alike. Just because the anonymous Euro-techno group Eiffel 65 was on the charts for only one stretch in 2000 does not mean that its mission was not accomplished. Eiffel 65’s one known song—its nonsense hit “Blue”—is the basis for a new Top Forty hit by Flo Rida called “Sugar,” and has inspired many user-generated videos on YouTube that are all better than the official video, a C.G.I. monstrosity. The artist who stays on the charts for years without interruption sometimes does it by virtue of professional acuity and inoffensive predictability. Some of pop’s most delightful figures endure exactly because we can’t figure out what they are up to.
Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta would have you believe that she’s not just beating the system—in her version, she’s stormed the castle walls, spirited away the Dauphin, and changed the national language to semaphore. Better known as Lady Gaga, Germanotta was born twenty-three years ago in Yonkers and has had two verifiable worldwide No. 1 hits, which are definitely dance music: “Just Dance” and “Poker Face.” (The kids say electro-pop, I say disco, and I suppose we’re both right.) Less verifiable is her theorizing about her work. She cites Andy Warhol, claims to be a “fame Robin Hood” who has lost her mind, opines in public about whether a certain shade of red is “Communist,” and has dropped Rilke’s name more than once. Don’t take this skepticism for distaste—Lady Gaga and I share preferences, especially as far as well-written pop music goes, and I am thrilled to see Communism and Rilke getting ink. I am also happy that her album, “The Fame,” will be with us all year, even if you can’t find Marx or Rilke anywhere in the music. What is most amusing is watching a trained pro like Lady Gaga try to sell herself as the Flying Lizards. Who were they? A colorfully deadpan British art-school unit of brainy, primitive one-hit wonders (“Money”) who did business in the early eighties and are resurrected in spirit every seven years or so. They were really odd.
Gaga is not odd, give or take some warbles and that one time during a session for AOL when she pounded on her keyboard with her high heel, but she is as smart as she repeatedly claims to be. Germanotta went to Convent of the Sacred Heart High School and grew up on the Upper West Side. (Her parents call her Joanne.) After a stint at N.Y.U.’s Tisch School, she dropped out and, while still a teen, went to Los Angeles, where she got a contract with Def Jam. That gig ended in three months, so Germanotta came home—not yet calling herself Lady Gaga—and began performing songs and burlesque routines in New York clubs with a friend, the d.j. Lady Starlight. Eventually, she returned to Los Angeles, and signed with Interscope Records. She wrote songs for the Pussycat Dolls and one for Britney Spears (a strange, compelling love song disguised as a dance number, called “Quicksand,” which is available only on the European version of Spears’s “Circus”) and worked with Akon, the certified pop star with an ornately embellished criminal past, who signed Gaga to his label.
This is not as weird as it might sound. Gaga can really sing and really write. That said, she embellished when she says, of “The Fame,” that she “did the whole goddamn thing.” In reality, her collaborators on her début album are a wisely picked cast of new and old pros who know how to make pop records sound like pop records. Rob Fusari, who dubbed Germanotta Lady Gaga, after the Queen song “Radio Ga Ga,” co-wrote some of Destiny’s Child’s best work. RedOne is a Moroccan producer whose song “Bamboo” was named the Official Melody of soccer’s 2006 FIFA World Cup. More to the point, RedOne’s longtime residence in Sweden means that he has access to the enormous ice pool of Nordic hooks that Americans never seem to match. It makes sense that RedOne and Germanotta received a Grammy nomination for “Just Dance,” the song that presumably inspired Spears to enlist Ms. Gaga’s help for “Circus.”
How not dumb is Lady Gaga? Released exactly one year ago, “Just Dance” was one of the first big records to ride the sea change in pop, away from hip-hop and back toward disco, the music that has been in charge of the charts in Europe for a long time. (One current acknowledgment of this shift is a single by a rapper named Kid Cudi, who is currently jostling with Lady Gaga on the iTunes charts with his song “Day ’n’ Nite,” which re-imagines hip-hop as mumbling over disco rather than yelling over funk.)
With RedOne’s help, Gaga summons generations of dance music. “Just Dance” is built around the brawny, slightly overbearing synthesizers of Gary Numan and his British peers like the Human League. (Those keyboards are also the foundation for Euro-techno like Eiffel 65 and for dozens of Continental hits that Americans rarely hear.) Gaga’s hard vocal delivery lets her tone bounce off the walls, in the manner of Sharon Brown and Shannon and other eighties dance-floor workhorses. “Just Dance” is about being drunk in a club, which is a great idea, because songs for drunk people in clubs are rarely sharp enough to be so obvious: a lot gets lost in the quest for the clever. The Lady’s had too much red wine, turned her shirt inside out, and has a Playboy mouth, whatever that is. Her night could end up on the gossip blogs if she’s not careful—she “can’t see straight,” and can’t remember what club she’s in, but sings to herself that it’s “gonna be O.K.,” which will reassure anybody with a liquor license doing business while the song is on. Later in the song, Lady Gaga semi-raps and recalls the weirdo she’s borrowed a few moves from, Peaches, a Canadian musician who, like Germanotta, presented herself as a sexually ambiguous performance artist, though Peaches did it a decade ago. It was actually a plausible claim when Peaches made it—she has no worldwide No. 1s. (Yet.)
This is how “The Fame” works. Lady Gaga’s current, very big hit, “Poker Face,” will likely please the frat boys whom her pull quotes are designed to scare. As the punning title suggests, it’s a song about rough sex. (Another song is entitled “I Like It Rough.”) “Eh, Eh” echoes Madonna’s lighter work, like “La Isla Bonita,” and there’s even a ballad, to be released as a single when the people who don’t like dance music need to be pulled in, called “Brown Eyes.”
If you want melody and a cheerful embrace of the moment as it happens, Lady Gaga is a wise bet. Her recent client Britney is currently sleepwalking through her own tour. Not so Ms. Germanotta. On “American Idol,” Lady Gaga tore up “Poker Face” and short-circuited the conventions of the show by splitting the song into a drunken solo-piano ballad and an up-tempo truncated version of itself. Germanotta knows that the one-hit wonders are weirder and cooler than the well-paid musicians who stretch their careers over seven years on the stage and twenty more behind it. Can she have it both ways? ♦
Okay. Here are some of the references that Frere-Jones makes.
BOB DYLAN singing "Like a Rolling Stone."
Bob Marley singing "Stir It Up."
Gary Numan singing "Cars"
Eiffel 65 singing "Blue"
Flo Rida singing "Sugar"
Lady Gaga "Poker Face" and "Just Dance." Can't embed. Go to YouTube and check them out.
Andy Warhol talks....
Karl Marx, Papa of Communism, author of Communist Manifesto.
Rainer Marie Rilke, poem, "The Panther.:
Then I read this article, and some of it made sense. Written by Sasha Frere-Jones
Dedicated fans of popular music have a certain conversation at least once a year. Call it The Question of Endurance. You and your friends are talking about music, and the conversation turns to a popular band. You express support. A friend voices her opinion, maybe as favorable as yours, but appends a qualifier: “I like them, but will they be around in ten years?” You may feel compelled to defend whomever it is you’re talking about, covering the present moment and the future with your positive take. After trying this approach, though, you realize that pop music has no Constitution and doesn’t operate like a de-facto Supreme Court: precedent is not always established, and isn’t even necessary. Pop rarely accretes in a tidy, serial manner—it zigs, zags, eats itself, and falls over its shoelaces. Some pop successes go head to head with Blake and Bach; others win their blue ribbons by doing everything upside down and out of tune.
Exceptional pop creates a precedent precisely by abrogating the presumptive rules. How did that grouchy Bob Dylan become a critical favorite by spitting back at interviewers with silence and riddles? (Didn’t being cute and funny help the Beatles? Why would the opposite behavior work just as well, and at exactly the same time?) How did the Jamaican shantytown hero Bob Marley become an American Ivy League dorm-room staple? How did the tiny, androgynous Prince become a hero to alpha-male guitar-solo fiends? Pop acts become classic when they reveal the contingent nature of “classic.”
So it goes with one-hit (or two-hit) wonders, who can also become classics—or not. The nature of pop recycling makes it hard to measure, or define, endurance. In 1980, Gary Numan’s synthesizer pop song “Cars” was a reliable presence on broadcast radio here and in the United Kingdom. By 1985, though, you’d have been hard pressed to find a trace of Numan in the mainstream of pop. Today, he’s ubiquitous—“Cars” has been referenced in television shows and pop songs steadily throughout the past decade, and Numan’s synthesizer sounds are audible in the work of tiny Brooklyn bands and enormous stars alike. Just because the anonymous Euro-techno group Eiffel 65 was on the charts for only one stretch in 2000 does not mean that its mission was not accomplished. Eiffel 65’s one known song—its nonsense hit “Blue”—is the basis for a new Top Forty hit by Flo Rida called “Sugar,” and has inspired many user-generated videos on YouTube that are all better than the official video, a C.G.I. monstrosity. The artist who stays on the charts for years without interruption sometimes does it by virtue of professional acuity and inoffensive predictability. Some of pop’s most delightful figures endure exactly because we can’t figure out what they are up to.
Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta would have you believe that she’s not just beating the system—in her version, she’s stormed the castle walls, spirited away the Dauphin, and changed the national language to semaphore. Better known as Lady Gaga, Germanotta was born twenty-three years ago in Yonkers and has had two verifiable worldwide No. 1 hits, which are definitely dance music: “Just Dance” and “Poker Face.” (The kids say electro-pop, I say disco, and I suppose we’re both right.) Less verifiable is her theorizing about her work. She cites Andy Warhol, claims to be a “fame Robin Hood” who has lost her mind, opines in public about whether a certain shade of red is “Communist,” and has dropped Rilke’s name more than once. Don’t take this skepticism for distaste—Lady Gaga and I share preferences, especially as far as well-written pop music goes, and I am thrilled to see Communism and Rilke getting ink. I am also happy that her album, “The Fame,” will be with us all year, even if you can’t find Marx or Rilke anywhere in the music. What is most amusing is watching a trained pro like Lady Gaga try to sell herself as the Flying Lizards. Who were they? A colorfully deadpan British art-school unit of brainy, primitive one-hit wonders (“Money”) who did business in the early eighties and are resurrected in spirit every seven years or so. They were really odd.
Gaga is not odd, give or take some warbles and that one time during a session for AOL when she pounded on her keyboard with her high heel, but she is as smart as she repeatedly claims to be. Germanotta went to Convent of the Sacred Heart High School and grew up on the Upper West Side. (Her parents call her Joanne.) After a stint at N.Y.U.’s Tisch School, she dropped out and, while still a teen, went to Los Angeles, where she got a contract with Def Jam. That gig ended in three months, so Germanotta came home—not yet calling herself Lady Gaga—and began performing songs and burlesque routines in New York clubs with a friend, the d.j. Lady Starlight. Eventually, she returned to Los Angeles, and signed with Interscope Records. She wrote songs for the Pussycat Dolls and one for Britney Spears (a strange, compelling love song disguised as a dance number, called “Quicksand,” which is available only on the European version of Spears’s “Circus”) and worked with Akon, the certified pop star with an ornately embellished criminal past, who signed Gaga to his label.
This is not as weird as it might sound. Gaga can really sing and really write. That said, she embellished when she says, of “The Fame,” that she “did the whole goddamn thing.” In reality, her collaborators on her début album are a wisely picked cast of new and old pros who know how to make pop records sound like pop records. Rob Fusari, who dubbed Germanotta Lady Gaga, after the Queen song “Radio Ga Ga,” co-wrote some of Destiny’s Child’s best work. RedOne is a Moroccan producer whose song “Bamboo” was named the Official Melody of soccer’s 2006 FIFA World Cup. More to the point, RedOne’s longtime residence in Sweden means that he has access to the enormous ice pool of Nordic hooks that Americans never seem to match. It makes sense that RedOne and Germanotta received a Grammy nomination for “Just Dance,” the song that presumably inspired Spears to enlist Ms. Gaga’s help for “Circus.”
How not dumb is Lady Gaga? Released exactly one year ago, “Just Dance” was one of the first big records to ride the sea change in pop, away from hip-hop and back toward disco, the music that has been in charge of the charts in Europe for a long time. (One current acknowledgment of this shift is a single by a rapper named Kid Cudi, who is currently jostling with Lady Gaga on the iTunes charts with his song “Day ’n’ Nite,” which re-imagines hip-hop as mumbling over disco rather than yelling over funk.)
With RedOne’s help, Gaga summons generations of dance music. “Just Dance” is built around the brawny, slightly overbearing synthesizers of Gary Numan and his British peers like the Human League. (Those keyboards are also the foundation for Euro-techno like Eiffel 65 and for dozens of Continental hits that Americans rarely hear.) Gaga’s hard vocal delivery lets her tone bounce off the walls, in the manner of Sharon Brown and Shannon and other eighties dance-floor workhorses. “Just Dance” is about being drunk in a club, which is a great idea, because songs for drunk people in clubs are rarely sharp enough to be so obvious: a lot gets lost in the quest for the clever. The Lady’s had too much red wine, turned her shirt inside out, and has a Playboy mouth, whatever that is. Her night could end up on the gossip blogs if she’s not careful—she “can’t see straight,” and can’t remember what club she’s in, but sings to herself that it’s “gonna be O.K.,” which will reassure anybody with a liquor license doing business while the song is on. Later in the song, Lady Gaga semi-raps and recalls the weirdo she’s borrowed a few moves from, Peaches, a Canadian musician who, like Germanotta, presented herself as a sexually ambiguous performance artist, though Peaches did it a decade ago. It was actually a plausible claim when Peaches made it—she has no worldwide No. 1s. (Yet.)
This is how “The Fame” works. Lady Gaga’s current, very big hit, “Poker Face,” will likely please the frat boys whom her pull quotes are designed to scare. As the punning title suggests, it’s a song about rough sex. (Another song is entitled “I Like It Rough.”) “Eh, Eh” echoes Madonna’s lighter work, like “La Isla Bonita,” and there’s even a ballad, to be released as a single when the people who don’t like dance music need to be pulled in, called “Brown Eyes.”
If you want melody and a cheerful embrace of the moment as it happens, Lady Gaga is a wise bet. Her recent client Britney is currently sleepwalking through her own tour. Not so Ms. Germanotta. On “American Idol,” Lady Gaga tore up “Poker Face” and short-circuited the conventions of the show by splitting the song into a drunken solo-piano ballad and an up-tempo truncated version of itself. Germanotta knows that the one-hit wonders are weirder and cooler than the well-paid musicians who stretch their careers over seven years on the stage and twenty more behind it. Can she have it both ways? ♦
Okay. Here are some of the references that Frere-Jones makes.
BOB DYLAN singing "Like a Rolling Stone."
Bob Marley singing "Stir It Up."
Gary Numan singing "Cars"
Eiffel 65 singing "Blue"
Flo Rida singing "Sugar"
Lady Gaga "Poker Face" and "Just Dance." Can't embed. Go to YouTube and check them out.
Andy Warhol talks....
Karl Marx, Papa of Communism, author of Communist Manifesto.
Rainer Marie Rilke, poem, "The Panther.:
Saturday, October 10, 2009
DESCRIPTIVE WRITING
Writing descriptively is the writing with a sense of the sensual. When you write about the ocean, you want the reader to "feel" the ocean--the spray, taste the salt, see the water. The more vividly you do this, the more evocative the writing. Remember, you are using a two dimensional tool--words--to capture a three dimensional "thing." It is one thing to say:
The marble is on the floor.
It is another thing to say:
The smooth, aqua marble rocks back and forth on the cedar floorboards.
I don't even know if they make floorboards out of cedar wood but you get the idea.
In the second sentence you get the feel of the marble, its color, motion, and the smell of the wood floor.
This is how I want you to think about writing the world: as a place made of up of many different objects which all have their own unique texture.
Here is an example of a descriptive passage.
My most valuable possession is an old, slightly warped blond guitar--the first instrument I taught myself how to play. It's nothing fancy, just a Madeira folk guitar, all scuffed and scratched and finger-printed. At the top is a bramble of copper-wound strings, each one hooked through the eye of a silver tuning key. The strings are stretched down a long, slim neck, its frets tarnished, the wood worn by years of fingers pressing chords and picking notes. The body of the Madeira is shaped like an enormous yellow pear, one that was slightly damaged in shipping. The blond wood has been chipped and gouged to gray, particularly where the pick guard fell off years ago. No, it's not a beautiful instrument, but it still lets me make music, and for that I will always treasure it.
Check this out. I am thinking that this 11 year old will put me out of business.
It's pretty cool, though.
The marble is on the floor.
It is another thing to say:
The smooth, aqua marble rocks back and forth on the cedar floorboards.
I don't even know if they make floorboards out of cedar wood but you get the idea.
In the second sentence you get the feel of the marble, its color, motion, and the smell of the wood floor.
This is how I want you to think about writing the world: as a place made of up of many different objects which all have their own unique texture.
Here is an example of a descriptive passage.
My most valuable possession is an old, slightly warped blond guitar--the first instrument I taught myself how to play. It's nothing fancy, just a Madeira folk guitar, all scuffed and scratched and finger-printed. At the top is a bramble of copper-wound strings, each one hooked through the eye of a silver tuning key. The strings are stretched down a long, slim neck, its frets tarnished, the wood worn by years of fingers pressing chords and picking notes. The body of the Madeira is shaped like an enormous yellow pear, one that was slightly damaged in shipping. The blond wood has been chipped and gouged to gray, particularly where the pick guard fell off years ago. No, it's not a beautiful instrument, but it still lets me make music, and for that I will always treasure it.
Check this out. I am thinking that this 11 year old will put me out of business.
It's pretty cool, though.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
NARRATIVE ESSAY ASSESSMENT
11th grade English – Rhetoric
Lippman
NARRATIVE ESSAY
The Narrative Essay is due on October 8 or 9th.
I would like you to write a 3-5 page narrative essay. Remember, a narrative is a story. You have to tell a story. About yourself. It has to be true. Or, it has to read authentically. By this I mean, you can’t write a story about dragons and warlocks who rule the land.
The narrative must be a triptych. A triptych is a piece of art that has three parts. Here are the three parts.
1. The Set Up.
In the set up I want you to establish place, time, persona, voice. Where does the story take place? Who are the players? What is the situation? Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
2. The Transformative Moment (private).
This is the moment in the narrative in which the speaker, you, has some realization—big or small—that re-defines in some way your sense of self, your vision of the world. You must ruminate on how your perspective on “things” has changed. You must discuss, describe and explore this change. Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
3. The Universal Moment (public).
This is the moment in which you discuss your new knowledge, your new found realization and how it may play out in the public sector. How does/has what you have “seen” in yourself effect those around you, yourself. And, how might you take what you have learned about yourself to do some “good” in the world. Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
The Narrative Essay is due on October 8/9.
Honors Component: Write a poem about your transformative moment. Go nuts.
Lippman
NARRATIVE ESSAY
The Narrative Essay is due on October 8 or 9th.
I would like you to write a 3-5 page narrative essay. Remember, a narrative is a story. You have to tell a story. About yourself. It has to be true. Or, it has to read authentically. By this I mean, you can’t write a story about dragons and warlocks who rule the land.
The narrative must be a triptych. A triptych is a piece of art that has three parts. Here are the three parts.
1. The Set Up.
In the set up I want you to establish place, time, persona, voice. Where does the story take place? Who are the players? What is the situation? Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
2. The Transformative Moment (private).
This is the moment in the narrative in which the speaker, you, has some realization—big or small—that re-defines in some way your sense of self, your vision of the world. You must ruminate on how your perspective on “things” has changed. You must discuss, describe and explore this change. Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
3. The Universal Moment (public).
This is the moment in which you discuss your new knowledge, your new found realization and how it may play out in the public sector. How does/has what you have “seen” in yourself effect those around you, yourself. And, how might you take what you have learned about yourself to do some “good” in the world. Be as descriptive and evocative as possible.
The Narrative Essay is due on October 8/9.
Honors Component: Write a poem about your transformative moment. Go nuts.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Scott Rusell Sanders
Here is the link to an interview with Scott Russell Sanders, author of the essay we are reading and discussing, "Under The Influence."
http://www.scottrussellsanders.com/about/riverteeth.htm
http://www.scottrussellsanders.com/about/riverteeth.htm
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Borges and I
Hello.
Here is a fascinating piece of writing that explores the notion of self. We must think about identity as an entity comprised of many different landscapes, plateaus, and embankments. It's textured, cultured, precise, vague, gray, and purple.
The "poem" by Jose Luis Borges explores this notion. Check it out.
Jorge Luis Borges
"Borges and I"
The other one, the one called Borges, is the one things happen to. I walk through the streets of Buenos Aires and stop for a moment, perhaps mechanically now, to look at the arch of an entrance hall and the grillwork on the gate; I know of Borges from the mail and see his name on a list of professors or in a biographical dictionary. I like hourglasses, maps, eighteenth-century typography, the taste of coffee and the prose of Stevenson; he shares these preferences, but in a vain way that turns them into the attributes of an actor. It would be an exaggeration to say that ours is a hostile relationship; I live, let myself go on living, so that Borges may contrive his literature, and this literature justifies me. It is no effort for me to confess that he has achieved some valid pages, but those pages cannot save me, perhaps because what is good belongs to no one, not even to him, but rather to the language and to tradition. Besides, I am destined to perish, definitively, and only some instant of myself can survive in him. Little by little, I am giving over everything to him, though I am quite aware of his perverse custom of falsifying and magnifying things.
Spinoza knew that all things long to persist in their being; the stone eternally wants to be a stone and the tiger a tiger. I shall remain in Borges, not in myself (if it is true that I am someone), but I recognize myself less in his books than in many others or in the laborious strumming of a guitar. Years ago I tried to free myself from him and went from the mythologies of the suburbs to the games with time and infinity, but those games belong to Borges now and I shall have to imagine other things. Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.
I do not know which of us has written this page.
Check out the video.
Here is a reading of the piece in Spanish. There is music. There is Spanish. It's so beautiful in the Spanish. Please listen. Dream in Spanish, in Spain, as Spaniards.
Here are some of your pieces written in the spirit of "Borges and I."
Epstein & I
Epstein is the one who likes to sing. I, however, am the one who likes to act. She sings like nobody is listening and I act like the whole world can see me.
I don’t understand how we’re friends, while Epstein loves to be herself on the stage, showing the world who she really is, and I love to be someone else, someone I can hide behind . She can walk onto the stage with such confidence, free to be herself, while I enter left stage, my knees shaking hiding behind the costume that has been made to fit me.
Sometimes I sit in the front row of her concerts, once again questioning our friendship. Epstein displays such great confidence, the type that makes me feel like a failure, the underdog. As I look out into the audience from the stage, the lights blind my eyes, and I can’t see if Epstein is sitting there; sometimes I don’t think she is. I can see why, I never get the lead roles, I’m always the maid or the sister who doesn’t add to the plot. Epstein is the main character, herself, all the spot lights are on her. I am lucky if a single pair of eyes is on me.
Although we’re friends, I constantly am reminded how much better Epstein is.
Hollingsworth and I
The other girl, the one who goes by the name of Hollingsworth, lives the artistic and strategic life. I simply pass through the halls, going from class to class secretly waiting for the long walk up to the art studio. Hollingsworth gracefully lets her wrist sway around the canvas while the peaceful colors blend together in a warm sweet harmony. I see the light dancing over a field of grass and my hand starts to tremble with the want and need of a charcoal pencil in my hand. While I feel a sense of fear in showing others my art, Hollingsworth feels nothing but pride and a sense of accomplishment. We use the same hand to paint and draw, the same eyes to see and the same heart to love; yet I am unsure of who encompasses the true skill of an artist.
Barnard and I
I play so much better than Barnard. I play with soul and passion; he play’s only what he reads on the sheet of music. When I’m playing, I feel the music running through my fingertips, but I know that Barnard cannot feel the same. Barnard only feels the strings on his fingertips. Yet he has an advantage you see. He holds great skill in his ability and plays with agility far tantamount to mine. I envy his muscle memory, his ability to seemingly be completely focused on something else, and still make beautiful noises. But he is focused on the guitar, too much so in fact. I play with feeling and with an image of the sound in my heart. Barnard plays only with an image of the sheet of music in his brain. Yet I lack Barnard’s ability to translate something into music. I can only dream of playing out my feelings and passion on the beautiful fret board of the guitar. Only by working together can we make a successful duet.
Deleon and I
Deleon, the one who is said to walk with a chip on his shoulder, always seems to walk with me. He is of my complexion and shares my reflection. In many instances he and I can live in harmony but I can not make sense of how such opposites can coexist. I’ve known him since before I knew myself. Deleon could’ve very easily spoken my first words and taken my first steps, yet I don’t recall how he came to be. As the years drift by like butterflies in a spring afternoon - our ties appear to be flying in different directions. The farther we stretch apart the more my character builds. There are still times when Deleon may be quick to make an assumption of someone due to their gender, class, race, religion, or sexual orientation. His thoughts always mingle with my own but I make sure to correct him in his thinking. I challenge him to think beyond physical traits and I push Deleon so much that he is inclined to complain of his brain being close to eruption. That just shows how critical I make him think. Each day flashes before our eyes and every morning is a new beginning. Deleon may very well be with me for the rest of my life but the truth is, Deleon is the yang to my yin, and without him I would disappear.
Beckwith and I
Beckwith steps out of the tent. I squint as the sun is rising over mountains in the distance. I stand for a while and look around me. Beckwith takes in the amazing view that he had not noticed the night before because they had gotten in after dark. I pull my eyes away from the mountains and start to help take down the tent. Beckwith then begins to pack up and get everything ready to go. I help check around the campsite to make sure we have left no trace and we are ready to leave. Beckwith takes one last look around and then concentrates on descending the ledge on which they had slept.
English and I
English is a blank canvas with flying emotions and intense creativity. She has this sort of confidence inside that is like non other and when determined, can accomplish any one thing she singularly puts her mind on. When distraught, English uses only a few tools to build up that confidence and inner strength once again. Her paintbrush, scissors, paper and glue, not only keep her from distress and unseen feelings, but can erase any trouble or concerns she is faced with. Its as if she is paining out the worries and pain, cutting away the fears, heeling the paper-cuts and gluing all the love and good spirits into her soul. I wish I could be English. In some absurd way I’m just like her, however when digging to the details, I have layers and layers covering my inventiveness and my ability to change things that English does not. When the wheels of stress and anxiety run over my sensitive being, the inner sensations take me away. As hard as I attempt to create a bulletproof shell to keep firm on the outside, I fail. I fail at a lot of things. But don’t we all. English likes to think not. English has an astonishing sense of self with an optimistic outlook on life. She loves to live it and no matter what may collide with her plans or lack there of, she has a method of drinking a half full glass of water every day of her life. I have true difficulty drinking that glass of water. Sometimes I manage to swallow in one gulp. I’d like to think I can always do so.
My strategy to push all those unwanted senses away is to use my originality and artistic abilities, just like English does. I like to think we are one in the same. I’m also found of the idea that she envies me, as much as I do her. I like photography, confusing writing; the feelings of butterflies in my stomach, making others feel good and traveling to exotic places. I am terrified of insects and hurting people, I am afraid of death and scary films. I love smiles. I hate upset and the feeling of anger and disappointment. We share those hates and loves and fears. English lives life to fullest. And in that we are the same. I cannot tell if I bounce of her, or if she bounces off of me. I cannot tell if she acts in such a positive way because of my sporadic negativity, or if I look to her because of it.
Here is a fascinating piece of writing that explores the notion of self. We must think about identity as an entity comprised of many different landscapes, plateaus, and embankments. It's textured, cultured, precise, vague, gray, and purple.
The "poem" by Jose Luis Borges explores this notion. Check it out.
Jorge Luis Borges
"Borges and I"
The other one, the one called Borges, is the one things happen to. I walk through the streets of Buenos Aires and stop for a moment, perhaps mechanically now, to look at the arch of an entrance hall and the grillwork on the gate; I know of Borges from the mail and see his name on a list of professors or in a biographical dictionary. I like hourglasses, maps, eighteenth-century typography, the taste of coffee and the prose of Stevenson; he shares these preferences, but in a vain way that turns them into the attributes of an actor. It would be an exaggeration to say that ours is a hostile relationship; I live, let myself go on living, so that Borges may contrive his literature, and this literature justifies me. It is no effort for me to confess that he has achieved some valid pages, but those pages cannot save me, perhaps because what is good belongs to no one, not even to him, but rather to the language and to tradition. Besides, I am destined to perish, definitively, and only some instant of myself can survive in him. Little by little, I am giving over everything to him, though I am quite aware of his perverse custom of falsifying and magnifying things.
Spinoza knew that all things long to persist in their being; the stone eternally wants to be a stone and the tiger a tiger. I shall remain in Borges, not in myself (if it is true that I am someone), but I recognize myself less in his books than in many others or in the laborious strumming of a guitar. Years ago I tried to free myself from him and went from the mythologies of the suburbs to the games with time and infinity, but those games belong to Borges now and I shall have to imagine other things. Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.
I do not know which of us has written this page.
Check out the video.
Here is a reading of the piece in Spanish. There is music. There is Spanish. It's so beautiful in the Spanish. Please listen. Dream in Spanish, in Spain, as Spaniards.
Here are some of your pieces written in the spirit of "Borges and I."
Epstein & I
Epstein is the one who likes to sing. I, however, am the one who likes to act. She sings like nobody is listening and I act like the whole world can see me.
I don’t understand how we’re friends, while Epstein loves to be herself on the stage, showing the world who she really is, and I love to be someone else, someone I can hide behind . She can walk onto the stage with such confidence, free to be herself, while I enter left stage, my knees shaking hiding behind the costume that has been made to fit me.
Sometimes I sit in the front row of her concerts, once again questioning our friendship. Epstein displays such great confidence, the type that makes me feel like a failure, the underdog. As I look out into the audience from the stage, the lights blind my eyes, and I can’t see if Epstein is sitting there; sometimes I don’t think she is. I can see why, I never get the lead roles, I’m always the maid or the sister who doesn’t add to the plot. Epstein is the main character, herself, all the spot lights are on her. I am lucky if a single pair of eyes is on me.
Although we’re friends, I constantly am reminded how much better Epstein is.
Hollingsworth and I
The other girl, the one who goes by the name of Hollingsworth, lives the artistic and strategic life. I simply pass through the halls, going from class to class secretly waiting for the long walk up to the art studio. Hollingsworth gracefully lets her wrist sway around the canvas while the peaceful colors blend together in a warm sweet harmony. I see the light dancing over a field of grass and my hand starts to tremble with the want and need of a charcoal pencil in my hand. While I feel a sense of fear in showing others my art, Hollingsworth feels nothing but pride and a sense of accomplishment. We use the same hand to paint and draw, the same eyes to see and the same heart to love; yet I am unsure of who encompasses the true skill of an artist.
Barnard and I
I play so much better than Barnard. I play with soul and passion; he play’s only what he reads on the sheet of music. When I’m playing, I feel the music running through my fingertips, but I know that Barnard cannot feel the same. Barnard only feels the strings on his fingertips. Yet he has an advantage you see. He holds great skill in his ability and plays with agility far tantamount to mine. I envy his muscle memory, his ability to seemingly be completely focused on something else, and still make beautiful noises. But he is focused on the guitar, too much so in fact. I play with feeling and with an image of the sound in my heart. Barnard plays only with an image of the sheet of music in his brain. Yet I lack Barnard’s ability to translate something into music. I can only dream of playing out my feelings and passion on the beautiful fret board of the guitar. Only by working together can we make a successful duet.
Deleon and I
Deleon, the one who is said to walk with a chip on his shoulder, always seems to walk with me. He is of my complexion and shares my reflection. In many instances he and I can live in harmony but I can not make sense of how such opposites can coexist. I’ve known him since before I knew myself. Deleon could’ve very easily spoken my first words and taken my first steps, yet I don’t recall how he came to be. As the years drift by like butterflies in a spring afternoon - our ties appear to be flying in different directions. The farther we stretch apart the more my character builds. There are still times when Deleon may be quick to make an assumption of someone due to their gender, class, race, religion, or sexual orientation. His thoughts always mingle with my own but I make sure to correct him in his thinking. I challenge him to think beyond physical traits and I push Deleon so much that he is inclined to complain of his brain being close to eruption. That just shows how critical I make him think. Each day flashes before our eyes and every morning is a new beginning. Deleon may very well be with me for the rest of my life but the truth is, Deleon is the yang to my yin, and without him I would disappear.
Beckwith and I
Beckwith steps out of the tent. I squint as the sun is rising over mountains in the distance. I stand for a while and look around me. Beckwith takes in the amazing view that he had not noticed the night before because they had gotten in after dark. I pull my eyes away from the mountains and start to help take down the tent. Beckwith then begins to pack up and get everything ready to go. I help check around the campsite to make sure we have left no trace and we are ready to leave. Beckwith takes one last look around and then concentrates on descending the ledge on which they had slept.
English and I
English is a blank canvas with flying emotions and intense creativity. She has this sort of confidence inside that is like non other and when determined, can accomplish any one thing she singularly puts her mind on. When distraught, English uses only a few tools to build up that confidence and inner strength once again. Her paintbrush, scissors, paper and glue, not only keep her from distress and unseen feelings, but can erase any trouble or concerns she is faced with. Its as if she is paining out the worries and pain, cutting away the fears, heeling the paper-cuts and gluing all the love and good spirits into her soul. I wish I could be English. In some absurd way I’m just like her, however when digging to the details, I have layers and layers covering my inventiveness and my ability to change things that English does not. When the wheels of stress and anxiety run over my sensitive being, the inner sensations take me away. As hard as I attempt to create a bulletproof shell to keep firm on the outside, I fail. I fail at a lot of things. But don’t we all. English likes to think not. English has an astonishing sense of self with an optimistic outlook on life. She loves to live it and no matter what may collide with her plans or lack there of, she has a method of drinking a half full glass of water every day of her life. I have true difficulty drinking that glass of water. Sometimes I manage to swallow in one gulp. I’d like to think I can always do so.
My strategy to push all those unwanted senses away is to use my originality and artistic abilities, just like English does. I like to think we are one in the same. I’m also found of the idea that she envies me, as much as I do her. I like photography, confusing writing; the feelings of butterflies in my stomach, making others feel good and traveling to exotic places. I am terrified of insects and hurting people, I am afraid of death and scary films. I love smiles. I hate upset and the feeling of anger and disappointment. We share those hates and loves and fears. English lives life to fullest. And in that we are the same. I cannot tell if I bounce of her, or if she bounces off of me. I cannot tell if she acts in such a positive way because of my sporadic negativity, or if I look to her because of it.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
THE NARRATIVE ESSAY
A few things.
The word narrative means, essentially, to tell a story.
In your essay, you want to tell a story.
We have been talking about telling a story in a non-linear fashion. Let's refresh.
Telling a linear story means telling a story that follows a straight line. It is not elliptical. It does not utilize flashbacks or different points of view. It is very straightforward. Telling a story in this fashion is very effective. Some of the best stories in the world are linear stories. The Catcher in The Rye by J.D. Salinger is a linear story and everyone knows the beginning, the middle and the end. This is not a post to bad-mouth the linear tale.
I want you to concern yourselves, though, with thinking about how stories are told in non-linear terms. For instance, you start in the present, go back to the past, go back to the past-past, return to the present, ruminate on the future and end in the same place where the story began.
I also want you to think about how to tell a story in which you tell us many little stories within the context of the big story. Here are two stories that I have told. I made them up on the spot. One is linear. One is not.
Okay. Now, that was silly and fun but I think you get the point. Here is another piece of advice when sitting down to write a narrative. Actually, it's pieces of advice from the great writer Kurt Vonnegut, famous for novels such as Slaughterhouse Five and Cat's Cradle. Check this out.
Even if you are writing a memoir, that is, a tale that comes straight from your own life, think about the elements of writing a story that Vonnegut has laid out for us.
In my opinion, writing any kind of tale involves making things up, embellishing. When I read Didion's "The White Album" I know she is cutting and pasting and thus, leaving stuff out and putting stuff in. Writing any good narrative, you see, is about making decisions about what stays and what goes. Often times, and in my experience, leaving "things" out is much more difficult than putting "stuff" in the piece. Writing a story is very hard work but it's also a lot of fun.
Here is a little narrative essay that I found on the net. It is from National Public Radio's "This I Believe," series. It is called:
THE 50 PERCENT THEORY OF LIFE
by Steve Porter
I believe in the 50-percent theory. Half the time things are better than normal; the other half, they are worse. I believe life is a pendulum swing. It takes time and experience to understand what normal is, and that gives me the perspective to deal with the surprises of the future.
Let’s benchmark the parameters: Yes, I will die. I’ve dealt with the deaths of both parents, a best friend, a beloved boss and cherished pets. Some of these deaths have been violent, before my eyes, or slow and agonizing. Bad stuff, and it belongs at the bottom of the scale.
Then there are those high points: romance and marriage to the right person; having a child and doing those Dad things like coaching my son’s baseball team, paddling around the creek in the boat while he’s swimming with the dogs, discovering his compassion so deep it manifests even in his kindness to snails, his imagination so vivid he builds a spaceship from a scattered pile of Legos.
But there is a vast meadow of life in the middle, where the bad and the good flip-flop acrobatically. This is what convinces me to believe in the 50-percent theory.
One spring I planted corn too early in a bottomland so flood-prone that neighbors laughed. I felt chagrined at the wasted effort. Summer turned brutal — the worst heat wave and drought in my lifetime. The air-conditioner died, the well went dry, the marriage ended, the job lost, the money gone. I was living lyrics from a country tune — music I loathed. Only a surging Kansas City Royals team, bound for their first World Series, buoyed my spirits.
Looking back on that horrible summer, I soon understood that all succeeding good things merely offset the bad. Worse than normal wouldn’t last long. I am owed and savor the halcyon times. They reinvigorate me for the next nasty surprise and offer assurance that I can thrive. The 50 percent theory even helps me see hope beyond my Royals’ recent slump, a field of struggling rookies sown so that some year soon we can reap an October harvest.
Oh, yeah, the corn crop? For that one blistering summer, the ground moisture was just right, planting early allowed pollination before heat withered the tops, and the lack of rain spared the standing corn from floods. That winter my crib overflowed with corn — fat, healthy three-to-a-stalk ears filled with kernels from heel to tip — while my neighbors’ fields yielded only brown, empty husks.
Although plantings past may have fallen below the 50-percent expectation, and they probably will again in the future, I am still sustained by the crop that flourishes during the drought.
Although raised in Kansas City, Steve Porter now lives on western Missouri farmland that has been in his family since the 1840s. In addition to coaching and watching baseball, Porter works in community relations for the Missouri Department of Transportation. He has planted only one corn crop on his farm.
The word narrative means, essentially, to tell a story.
In your essay, you want to tell a story.
We have been talking about telling a story in a non-linear fashion. Let's refresh.
Telling a linear story means telling a story that follows a straight line. It is not elliptical. It does not utilize flashbacks or different points of view. It is very straightforward. Telling a story in this fashion is very effective. Some of the best stories in the world are linear stories. The Catcher in The Rye by J.D. Salinger is a linear story and everyone knows the beginning, the middle and the end. This is not a post to bad-mouth the linear tale.
I want you to concern yourselves, though, with thinking about how stories are told in non-linear terms. For instance, you start in the present, go back to the past, go back to the past-past, return to the present, ruminate on the future and end in the same place where the story began.
I also want you to think about how to tell a story in which you tell us many little stories within the context of the big story. Here are two stories that I have told. I made them up on the spot. One is linear. One is not.
Okay. Now, that was silly and fun but I think you get the point. Here is another piece of advice when sitting down to write a narrative. Actually, it's pieces of advice from the great writer Kurt Vonnegut, famous for novels such as Slaughterhouse Five and Cat's Cradle. Check this out.
Even if you are writing a memoir, that is, a tale that comes straight from your own life, think about the elements of writing a story that Vonnegut has laid out for us.
In my opinion, writing any kind of tale involves making things up, embellishing. When I read Didion's "The White Album" I know she is cutting and pasting and thus, leaving stuff out and putting stuff in. Writing any good narrative, you see, is about making decisions about what stays and what goes. Often times, and in my experience, leaving "things" out is much more difficult than putting "stuff" in the piece. Writing a story is very hard work but it's also a lot of fun.
Here is a little narrative essay that I found on the net. It is from National Public Radio's "This I Believe," series. It is called:
THE 50 PERCENT THEORY OF LIFE
by Steve Porter
I believe in the 50-percent theory. Half the time things are better than normal; the other half, they are worse. I believe life is a pendulum swing. It takes time and experience to understand what normal is, and that gives me the perspective to deal with the surprises of the future.
Let’s benchmark the parameters: Yes, I will die. I’ve dealt with the deaths of both parents, a best friend, a beloved boss and cherished pets. Some of these deaths have been violent, before my eyes, or slow and agonizing. Bad stuff, and it belongs at the bottom of the scale.
Then there are those high points: romance and marriage to the right person; having a child and doing those Dad things like coaching my son’s baseball team, paddling around the creek in the boat while he’s swimming with the dogs, discovering his compassion so deep it manifests even in his kindness to snails, his imagination so vivid he builds a spaceship from a scattered pile of Legos.
But there is a vast meadow of life in the middle, where the bad and the good flip-flop acrobatically. This is what convinces me to believe in the 50-percent theory.
One spring I planted corn too early in a bottomland so flood-prone that neighbors laughed. I felt chagrined at the wasted effort. Summer turned brutal — the worst heat wave and drought in my lifetime. The air-conditioner died, the well went dry, the marriage ended, the job lost, the money gone. I was living lyrics from a country tune — music I loathed. Only a surging Kansas City Royals team, bound for their first World Series, buoyed my spirits.
Looking back on that horrible summer, I soon understood that all succeeding good things merely offset the bad. Worse than normal wouldn’t last long. I am owed and savor the halcyon times. They reinvigorate me for the next nasty surprise and offer assurance that I can thrive. The 50 percent theory even helps me see hope beyond my Royals’ recent slump, a field of struggling rookies sown so that some year soon we can reap an October harvest.
Oh, yeah, the corn crop? For that one blistering summer, the ground moisture was just right, planting early allowed pollination before heat withered the tops, and the lack of rain spared the standing corn from floods. That winter my crib overflowed with corn — fat, healthy three-to-a-stalk ears filled with kernels from heel to tip — while my neighbors’ fields yielded only brown, empty husks.
Although plantings past may have fallen below the 50-percent expectation, and they probably will again in the future, I am still sustained by the crop that flourishes during the drought.
Although raised in Kansas City, Steve Porter now lives on western Missouri farmland that has been in his family since the 1840s. In addition to coaching and watching baseball, Porter works in community relations for the Missouri Department of Transportation. He has planted only one corn crop on his farm.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
THE WHITE ALBUM
The White Album was released by the Beatles in 1968. One of the most famous songs from those recording sessions is: Birthday. Please give it a listen and then keep on reading.
The album is a culmination of songs that reflect the turbulence and beauty of the 1960s. It is collage. A collage is a group of very different substances that are brought together to create one whole image. If you remember back to your days in kindergarten...remember? Your teacher would give you a piece of cardboard, construction paper, buttons, glue, cellophane, popsicle sticks, colored pen, glitter and say, "Make a peacock." Yes? Remember?
Well, this term we will be studying collage. Our medium, however, will be language. Our theme, or focus, will be storytelling.
Joan Didion, the great essayist, entitled her groundbreaking essay "The White Album" after The Beatles' opus. There is no link between the two save for two--the title and the notion of collage. Ms. Didion has brought together little vignettes, little stories and observations that span a ten year period to create for the reader an "essence" of a time, a generation, a culture unfolding.
Please, read the essay. Below are links to references she makes. As you read the essay, you will come upon names and historical references that you might not be familiar with. Please become familiar with them now.
THE DOORS
THE BLACK PANTHERS
HUEY NEWTON - Minister of Information, Black Panther Party
Think about what these three videos have in common. If you were to make a collage--take clips from each of the videos--what would be underlying theme of your video be?
Didion also references two sensational murders that took place during this time period. The most horrific of these were The Manson Slayings. His tale is lurid and horrific. Here is a little video that gives you some insight into the murders, the man, the trial, the family.
One theme that pervades all of these videos, of the time, is the theme of violence. Now, remember, Didion writes the piece over a ten year period, from 1968-1978. I find it quite interesting that one of the most pronounced motifs of her essay has to do with the violence that occurred and was occurring in American during that period in the country's history. What are some of the themes that you recognize? I would like you to note one, write it down and give three examples from the text that illustrate your choice.
RESPONSES TO DIDION'S "THE WHITE ALBUM"
Scientology is a paperclip. I bring it to school every day.
Scientology is a fleece jacket. It keeps me warm when I am cold.
It's the idea I have in English class.
It's the snow that falls from the sky.
Scientology is the smile on my mother's face.
Scientology is the ink one my paper from a printer cartridge.
It's the couch I am sitting on.
The fabric that covers the couch.
Scientology is Beaver Country Day School.
Scientology is God. And God is Scientology.
Scientology is nothing and it is everything.
It is around us and inside of us.
Scientology is aliens. Aliens are everywhere. Staring at us. With desire.
Scientology is you and me.
Scientology. Know yourself. Know life.
Danny and Katie B.
(page 20)
The Manson Murders have not been forgotten. 40 years later, Linda Kasabian, the star witness in the Manson Murders was interviewed on Larry King Live. Can you imagine raising a family after seeing a females body in such conditions like Sharon Tate? Now are these murderers still behind bars? Yes, except Susan Atkins who is about to die and is in the hospital. So we are safe...? Linda Kasbian was a former member of the manson family, who witnessed several of the killings. She slept with Charles Manson.
Adina and Gabby
Chicken Delight is a fast food establishment that started in Illinois in 1952. However, common fast food enthusiast, our business goes beyond mere chicken. We provide a wide variety of ribs and pizza in hopes of tickling your fancy. We offer a special price on the combination of a large family meal and an imax film, which is available every day. You will find competitors like KFC and Wendy's ain't got shit on us. Please visit one of our conveniently located restaurants ranging from New Jersey to rural Manitoba. Chicken Delight. Doin' it right since '52
Stephen and Connor P. 19
Scientology
pg 20.
Scientologists believe in aliens. Sophie Dietz, Amirah Mahdi, and John French believe in aliens. (Um… no?) It is a privilege to be a scientologist says Tom Cruise. According to Tom Cruise, being a scientologist makes him feel obligated to help other people because only scientologists can really help. Tom Cruise likes to go on vacations. Scientology helps to FREE the mind. So does smoking weed. The real question about scientology is: What the heck is it? Tom Cruise spends nine minutes and 35 seconds explaining scientology, yet at nine minutes and 30 seconds, we still have no clue what it is. The one thing we learned from the video is that being a scientologist is actually being PSYCHO, because " they see things the way they are ". As does the rest of the seven billion pairs of eyes in the world.
In order to do crazy things you need to experience crazy things. Jim Morrison feels pressured to up hold his bad boy image that his fans have created, in order for people to believe that he is the people need to see him do it. In a way Jim Morrison is crying out for attention and help, and in trying to please his fans he loses site of himself. Now after trying to uphold this image for so long he has transformed into it.
pg. 25
Jim Morrison and The Doors
Jim Morrison is a dead rock star.
The stories he told in his music inspired a movement in the late 60's and 70's.
His wild antics taught others to let go.
He floated around the stage in vinyl pants over nothing.
He sang into his microphone and made people move.
Most importantly, he helped a nation find themselves.
Helped them develop an identity.
He's a dead rock star, but his voice is still heard in his music.
De-light
By Kirsten, Jasmine, and the Sass a.k.a. king of the birdz
This is to all you birds out there, if you a bird flap those wings
I go to the store to get my chicken delight
I eat it every day and every single night
So crispy and juicy it melts in my mouth
C'mon girl let's go down south
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWK. x2
It goes real nice with some mashed potatahzz
If you don't believe us then y'all are just hatahzz
You can get it any size small or large
Just ask the King of the Birdz, we're in charge
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWKx2
Chicken Delight is the place to be
Chicken Delight is the place fo' me
Drive on down and grab a bucket
If you don't like it ......then YOU STUPID.
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWKx4
where my birds at? chickens, penguin, ostriches too.
flamingos roosters we love you 2.
Can I get a bawk bawk?BAWK BAWK(fade out)
(see above Chicken Delight video)
Joan Didion's Madness
Joan Didion’s madness is hidden.
On camera she is accepting an award like a non-crazy, normal person.
How is it that she seems so crazy in a Psychiatric analysis?
Because
Psychology is a way to categorize people.
Psychology judges people.
Psychology is impersonal.
Psychology has the need to classify people.
Psychology makes a big deal of everything although every person has their issues.
Psychology fails.
By Keron and Marie-Annett
LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide) was officially discovered in November of 1938. In earlier history, there were instances where this drug's symptoms were present in a community. We are talking (of course) about the infamous Salem Witch Trials. When we dream, we draw on our experiences. When provoked by mass hysteria, it taps at our unconsciousness. In the case of these 141 women and 44 men, the bread they ate was contaminated by ergot, a fungus that is a base ingredient with symptoms similar to those of LSD. The fear of witchcraft permeated the community after Cotton Mather's accusation of these men and women being under the influence of a darker deity. It was because of these behaviors that the accusation drew even more fear into the people who then put these innocent people to death.
~ Abina Cohen & Ali Broadstone
Hannah and Angelo
Sept 18
Charles Manson
Charles Manson plotted serial killings
Who wanted nothing but murder.
As he hired 4 girls to spill the blood
but not get caught
He was at home planning his next victims.
People were dieing day by day
but Charles manson never had to pay
before the 4 girls saw their last days.
Charles Manson was then put behind bars
And convited to a life sentence
But then carefully thought it out and repented.
The My Lai massacre was a horrible incident in American history that occurred in 1968. 500 innocent Vietnamese civilians were killed by U.S troops the large majority of the victims were women, children, or elderly. The story of the event did not go public till 1969. Protest against the violence spread through the nation. Only one soldier was put in jail and he was pardoned only three days later. The massacre has not been forgotten.
Meri and Taylor
Eldridge Cleaver:
Eldridge Cleaver was Jesus. He was minister of the Black Panther Party through the years when America was on drugs. Depressed as he was oh so very much, he spent his times behind the bars…for a long, long time…for not paying respect to the American body. And of course…obviously…for getting shot and raping someone. There he didn’t do much. Just wrote a couple books and essays about how not to do it again. That was his major apology…but he has his own personal beliefs and chooses to speak out to the world openly, like he did with these college students. This is when Eldridge Cleaver…became the one…the only…Jesus.
No name Maddox Ginny,Harry, Neddy
A swastika between the eyes
Behind them the devil lies
Sharon Tate was stabbed 44 times
The child within her was victimized.
In San Fernando “The Family” lived
When they came no one survived
Now in jail it’s his turn to die
The motives for his killings no longer fly
Alex
Noah
The Black Panthers
We chose a clip about the black panthers and their leader Huey Newton. This video is shot during the trial of Huey Newton who was accused of shooting a police officer. At the beginning of the video, a group of black panthers are standing outside a courtroom showing support for Newton. The claim that they will not leave until Newton is set free, and if he is not set free there will be violence. The next part of the video shows a funeral of a black panther after he was shot while being ambushed by the Oakland police. There is then outrage within the black community and a lot of rallies for the release of Huey Newton. The video shows a large gathering of Black People supporting Newton at a big assembly. Many people speak on behalf of Newton. The main purpose of the video is to display the huge amounts of support the black community had for Huey Newton.
This is a video about Huey Newton's ideas which express the problems with racism in his era and now and the mistreatment of African Americans in his community. The simple fact that Huey Newton is expressing is police are brutal to Blacks. The reasons for having the black panther Party are clearly explained by many African American men and women from out time Huey's time period and now. The reasons include stopping police from arresting African Americans for unreasonable events and bailing Blacks out of jail. He would also like African American to be remembered in history for the actions they took in creating the United States. Fredrika Newton, the founder of the Huey Newton foundation explains that the organization was started to remember the Black Panther Party and their beliefs. It was started in 1993 and has recently created a tour and exhibition about the Party.
After spending about a year in jail, Huey along with all the other black panthers organized numerous breakfast kitchens for people too pour to afford their morning meal. The black panthers created a free medical center, and initiated a door-to-door heath care service. They aided the homeless in finding shelter and gave them free clothing and food. All this happened after he was released from jail. Many people see Huey P. Newton as an anti-social gangster. But society never told the story of his other side in which he contributed greatly to the community.
--
-Joe Barnard and Tiesha Pough
Charles Manson
As we watch this video, all we see are pictures but our main focus is on the insane words of Charles Manson. Manson believes that because of his troubled childhood, society has turned it’s back on him. Manson believes that because of the toll that his life has taken on him, he has the right to do anything he wants, including taking the lives of innocent people. Manson is under the impression that he never murdered anyone, although this is physically true he was the influence behind the actual murderers’ reasoning for killing Sharon Tate and 4 others. Manson believes that the murders he’s responsible for were not enough of a toll on society, he believes that he had the right to kill 500 hundred people if he pleased. Charles Manson’s words and actions subsequent to his conviction have made sure that he will never be released.
by Mitchell and Rachel
The album is a culmination of songs that reflect the turbulence and beauty of the 1960s. It is collage. A collage is a group of very different substances that are brought together to create one whole image. If you remember back to your days in kindergarten...remember? Your teacher would give you a piece of cardboard, construction paper, buttons, glue, cellophane, popsicle sticks, colored pen, glitter and say, "Make a peacock." Yes? Remember?
Well, this term we will be studying collage. Our medium, however, will be language. Our theme, or focus, will be storytelling.
Joan Didion, the great essayist, entitled her groundbreaking essay "The White Album" after The Beatles' opus. There is no link between the two save for two--the title and the notion of collage. Ms. Didion has brought together little vignettes, little stories and observations that span a ten year period to create for the reader an "essence" of a time, a generation, a culture unfolding.
Please, read the essay. Below are links to references she makes. As you read the essay, you will come upon names and historical references that you might not be familiar with. Please become familiar with them now.
THE DOORS
THE BLACK PANTHERS
HUEY NEWTON - Minister of Information, Black Panther Party
Think about what these three videos have in common. If you were to make a collage--take clips from each of the videos--what would be underlying theme of your video be?
Didion also references two sensational murders that took place during this time period. The most horrific of these were The Manson Slayings. His tale is lurid and horrific. Here is a little video that gives you some insight into the murders, the man, the trial, the family.
One theme that pervades all of these videos, of the time, is the theme of violence. Now, remember, Didion writes the piece over a ten year period, from 1968-1978. I find it quite interesting that one of the most pronounced motifs of her essay has to do with the violence that occurred and was occurring in American during that period in the country's history. What are some of the themes that you recognize? I would like you to note one, write it down and give three examples from the text that illustrate your choice.
RESPONSES TO DIDION'S "THE WHITE ALBUM"
Scientology is a paperclip. I bring it to school every day.
Scientology is a fleece jacket. It keeps me warm when I am cold.
It's the idea I have in English class.
It's the snow that falls from the sky.
Scientology is the smile on my mother's face.
Scientology is the ink one my paper from a printer cartridge.
It's the couch I am sitting on.
The fabric that covers the couch.
Scientology is Beaver Country Day School.
Scientology is God. And God is Scientology.
Scientology is nothing and it is everything.
It is around us and inside of us.
Scientology is aliens. Aliens are everywhere. Staring at us. With desire.
Scientology is you and me.
Scientology. Know yourself. Know life.
Danny and Katie B.
(page 20)
The Manson Murders have not been forgotten. 40 years later, Linda Kasabian, the star witness in the Manson Murders was interviewed on Larry King Live. Can you imagine raising a family after seeing a females body in such conditions like Sharon Tate? Now are these murderers still behind bars? Yes, except Susan Atkins who is about to die and is in the hospital. So we are safe...? Linda Kasbian was a former member of the manson family, who witnessed several of the killings. She slept with Charles Manson.
Adina and Gabby
Chicken Delight is a fast food establishment that started in Illinois in 1952. However, common fast food enthusiast, our business goes beyond mere chicken. We provide a wide variety of ribs and pizza in hopes of tickling your fancy. We offer a special price on the combination of a large family meal and an imax film, which is available every day. You will find competitors like KFC and Wendy's ain't got shit on us. Please visit one of our conveniently located restaurants ranging from New Jersey to rural Manitoba. Chicken Delight. Doin' it right since '52
Stephen and Connor P. 19
Scientology
pg 20.
Scientologists believe in aliens. Sophie Dietz, Amirah Mahdi, and John French believe in aliens. (Um… no?) It is a privilege to be a scientologist says Tom Cruise. According to Tom Cruise, being a scientologist makes him feel obligated to help other people because only scientologists can really help. Tom Cruise likes to go on vacations. Scientology helps to FREE the mind. So does smoking weed. The real question about scientology is: What the heck is it? Tom Cruise spends nine minutes and 35 seconds explaining scientology, yet at nine minutes and 30 seconds, we still have no clue what it is. The one thing we learned from the video is that being a scientologist is actually being PSYCHO, because " they see things the way they are ". As does the rest of the seven billion pairs of eyes in the world.
In order to do crazy things you need to experience crazy things. Jim Morrison feels pressured to up hold his bad boy image that his fans have created, in order for people to believe that he is the people need to see him do it. In a way Jim Morrison is crying out for attention and help, and in trying to please his fans he loses site of himself. Now after trying to uphold this image for so long he has transformed into it.
pg. 25
Jim Morrison and The Doors
Jim Morrison is a dead rock star.
The stories he told in his music inspired a movement in the late 60's and 70's.
His wild antics taught others to let go.
He floated around the stage in vinyl pants over nothing.
He sang into his microphone and made people move.
Most importantly, he helped a nation find themselves.
Helped them develop an identity.
He's a dead rock star, but his voice is still heard in his music.
De-light
By Kirsten, Jasmine, and the Sass a.k.a. king of the birdz
This is to all you birds out there, if you a bird flap those wings
I go to the store to get my chicken delight
I eat it every day and every single night
So crispy and juicy it melts in my mouth
C'mon girl let's go down south
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWK. x2
It goes real nice with some mashed potatahzz
If you don't believe us then y'all are just hatahzz
You can get it any size small or large
Just ask the King of the Birdz, we're in charge
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWKx2
Chicken Delight is the place to be
Chicken Delight is the place fo' me
Drive on down and grab a bucket
If you don't like it ......then YOU STUPID.
Can I get a bawk bawk? BAWK BAWKx4
where my birds at? chickens, penguin, ostriches too.
flamingos roosters we love you 2.
Can I get a bawk bawk?BAWK BAWK(fade out)
(see above Chicken Delight video)
Joan Didion's Madness
Joan Didion’s madness is hidden.
On camera she is accepting an award like a non-crazy, normal person.
How is it that she seems so crazy in a Psychiatric analysis?
Because
Psychology is a way to categorize people.
Psychology judges people.
Psychology is impersonal.
Psychology has the need to classify people.
Psychology makes a big deal of everything although every person has their issues.
Psychology fails.
By Keron and Marie-Annett
LSD (Lysergic acid diethylamide) was officially discovered in November of 1938. In earlier history, there were instances where this drug's symptoms were present in a community. We are talking (of course) about the infamous Salem Witch Trials. When we dream, we draw on our experiences. When provoked by mass hysteria, it taps at our unconsciousness. In the case of these 141 women and 44 men, the bread they ate was contaminated by ergot, a fungus that is a base ingredient with symptoms similar to those of LSD. The fear of witchcraft permeated the community after Cotton Mather's accusation of these men and women being under the influence of a darker deity. It was because of these behaviors that the accusation drew even more fear into the people who then put these innocent people to death.
~ Abina Cohen & Ali Broadstone
Hannah and Angelo
Sept 18
Charles Manson
Charles Manson plotted serial killings
Who wanted nothing but murder.
As he hired 4 girls to spill the blood
but not get caught
He was at home planning his next victims.
People were dieing day by day
but Charles manson never had to pay
before the 4 girls saw their last days.
Charles Manson was then put behind bars
And convited to a life sentence
But then carefully thought it out and repented.
The My Lai massacre was a horrible incident in American history that occurred in 1968. 500 innocent Vietnamese civilians were killed by U.S troops the large majority of the victims were women, children, or elderly. The story of the event did not go public till 1969. Protest against the violence spread through the nation. Only one soldier was put in jail and he was pardoned only three days later. The massacre has not been forgotten.
Meri and Taylor
Eldridge Cleaver:
Eldridge Cleaver was Jesus. He was minister of the Black Panther Party through the years when America was on drugs. Depressed as he was oh so very much, he spent his times behind the bars…for a long, long time…for not paying respect to the American body. And of course…obviously…for getting shot and raping someone. There he didn’t do much. Just wrote a couple books and essays about how not to do it again. That was his major apology…but he has his own personal beliefs and chooses to speak out to the world openly, like he did with these college students. This is when Eldridge Cleaver…became the one…the only…Jesus.
No name Maddox Ginny,Harry, Neddy
A swastika between the eyes
Behind them the devil lies
Sharon Tate was stabbed 44 times
The child within her was victimized.
In San Fernando “The Family” lived
When they came no one survived
Now in jail it’s his turn to die
The motives for his killings no longer fly
Alex
Noah
The Black Panthers
We chose a clip about the black panthers and their leader Huey Newton. This video is shot during the trial of Huey Newton who was accused of shooting a police officer. At the beginning of the video, a group of black panthers are standing outside a courtroom showing support for Newton. The claim that they will not leave until Newton is set free, and if he is not set free there will be violence. The next part of the video shows a funeral of a black panther after he was shot while being ambushed by the Oakland police. There is then outrage within the black community and a lot of rallies for the release of Huey Newton. The video shows a large gathering of Black People supporting Newton at a big assembly. Many people speak on behalf of Newton. The main purpose of the video is to display the huge amounts of support the black community had for Huey Newton.
This is a video about Huey Newton's ideas which express the problems with racism in his era and now and the mistreatment of African Americans in his community. The simple fact that Huey Newton is expressing is police are brutal to Blacks. The reasons for having the black panther Party are clearly explained by many African American men and women from out time Huey's time period and now. The reasons include stopping police from arresting African Americans for unreasonable events and bailing Blacks out of jail. He would also like African American to be remembered in history for the actions they took in creating the United States. Fredrika Newton, the founder of the Huey Newton foundation explains that the organization was started to remember the Black Panther Party and their beliefs. It was started in 1993 and has recently created a tour and exhibition about the Party.
After spending about a year in jail, Huey along with all the other black panthers organized numerous breakfast kitchens for people too pour to afford their morning meal. The black panthers created a free medical center, and initiated a door-to-door heath care service. They aided the homeless in finding shelter and gave them free clothing and food. All this happened after he was released from jail. Many people see Huey P. Newton as an anti-social gangster. But society never told the story of his other side in which he contributed greatly to the community.
--
-Joe Barnard and Tiesha Pough
Charles Manson
As we watch this video, all we see are pictures but our main focus is on the insane words of Charles Manson. Manson believes that because of his troubled childhood, society has turned it’s back on him. Manson believes that because of the toll that his life has taken on him, he has the right to do anything he wants, including taking the lives of innocent people. Manson is under the impression that he never murdered anyone, although this is physically true he was the influence behind the actual murderers’ reasoning for killing Sharon Tate and 4 others. Manson believes that the murders he’s responsible for were not enough of a toll on society, he believes that he had the right to kill 500 hundred people if he pleased. Charles Manson’s words and actions subsequent to his conviction have made sure that he will never be released.
by Mitchell and Rachel
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