Grandpa Willy

(Biff describing Willy to his kids)

He was a misunderstood man. He was brave in his words. Your grandfather was a proud, successful and mistreated man. Though me might have lost his way here and there not one guy would ever call him a bad man. He was well-liked by everyone. Grandpa Willy never was good with a car though (chuckles) which is why he isn't here to laugh and love on you guys today. Boy did he love life though! He loved his wife and his boys and always wanted the best for them just as I do for you. It is hard for kids to understand just how much their parents love them. Some day you guys will know just what I mean by that. And boy, could he sell! Up until his last day I swear he was trying to sell me to everyone else! Going around telling Charlie and your grandma, even his brother sometimes how I was going to be a big shot just like him. And boy did I want to be a big shot! Just like old pops. Yeah, he may have been a little rough around the edges, but that's what happens after all the miles, all the appointments, and being busy getting people to like you all the time. He was a good man, guys, ah I miss him. Don't you ever forget your grandfather, you hear? If you do I swear that man will jump right out of his grave and give you a talking to. He'll be telling you about old Uncle Ben and how a man can walk into a jungle just a teen and walk out at twenty one years old, rich as a golden sucker. Now that's success boys! That's the beauty of this world! Any man who is well-liked like your grandpa can really make a shoe shine! Just look at how well I turned out! That's what you boys want, right? (silence) ...Right boys? Answer me! God damnit I gave you an order!

(Boys in unison) Yes dad, that's what we want, we'll make you proud.

Class Review

Favorite Poem: Sunflower Sutra
Least Favorite Poem: The Red Wheelbarrow--there's not much to it and it was hard to relate to.

Favorite Short Story: Orientation
Least Favorite Short Story: Bartleby--couldn't connect to it in any way, honestly found it boring and aggrivating.

Next semester's English 150 students should definitely read The Death of  a Salesman.

I liked watching both Bartleby and The Death of a Salesman in class in tangent with reading the plays. Especially with The Death of a Salesman because it made the story much easier to understand.

Favorite in-class activity: Analyzing poems, though I wish we would have analyzed eachother's rather than people we will never recieve feedback from.
Least Favorite in-class activity: Group work, there's too much of it

I hate giving presentations so I am glad we never got to them:)

I actually really liked the blog entries. It gave us a chance to give our input and do something more fun than just "P" assignments. I enjoyed the poetry entries the most, and the short story entries the least.

Linda Speaks

April 22, 1928

Dear Diary,

Biff and Willy are fighting again. It seems like every time he comes home Willy goes into fits. All he wants is the best for his sons, both of them, is that so hard to understand? I feel that Biff and Happy are too harsh on their father, he has worked his whole life to give them the best and yet they turn their backs on him when hard times arise. Willy does not make things much easier, his nightly exploits have worsened over the years. Sometimes I lay in bed wondering if I should just leave him out in the street, walking and talking with the wind. Perhaps this is what he wants. Perhaps then Willy can finally be content.

June 5, 1930

The boys have succeeded! Biff and Happy are finally businessmen, in tangent selling sporting goods. Oh what joy I have, oh what pride I have for my boys! Willy is thrilled as well, he instructs the boys daily on proper business etiquette, and though they may laugh at him now they will thank him in the future I am sure. I hope that maybe someday Willy can retire and spend his days in business with his sons. Though this may seem far-fetched now I believe it to be a necessity. I will make it a point to mention this tonight at dinner, if Willy allows. I wouldn't want to send him into fits again, I don't enjoy it when he slaps me.

The Lottery

Author: Shirley Jackson
Title: "The Lottery"
Premise Theme: The tribal nature of any small community

     I grew up in a small town. With that being said, there is a reason I don't live there anymore. The small town vibe I got when reading this short story, though much more violent, reminds me a lot of home. Not in the sense that we get together once a year and stone a person to death, but rather that things that are disturbing to the general flow of things tend to be swept under the rug. I remember in high school that if one of the football or mens' basketball players got caught with something bad, say underage drinking or failing classes, one minute they were being threatened with suspension and the next they were on the court or field playing again. They'd never actually face the consequences of their actions. Everyone around them seemed to defend the person with the infraction, and soon enough the situation was swept under the rug completely never to be brought up again.
     The situation seems to be the same within the community described by Jackson in her short story. The townspeople seem to have no emotions after killing a member of their community. They even say, "'guess we better get started, get this over with, so's we can go back to work'" (pg. 292).Once they get the process of killing someone "over with" the townspeople go right back to their daily activities. Like in my small town, the situation gets swept under the rug.
     I think another thing that has not yet been brought up in class is the statement made by the author that is revealed in the biography. It reads, "I supposed, I hoped, by setting a particularly brutal ancient rite in the present and in my own village, to shock the story's readers with a graphic dramatization of the pointless violence and general inhumanity in their own lives (pg. 290)." This, to me, explains exactly what the author was trying to do with this story. A theme, that has not been pointed out in class is the inner evil that lies inside every person. This story makes us doubt the next man or woman's true intentions, and wonder if we really are the modern day sophisticated specimens we pretend to be.
     This story upsetted the New York community in 1948 when it was released by the New York Times, and I believe it was for many reasons. It upsetted the status quo, the view that people had of their world at the time, and made them doubt their fellow man--given this was after the depression and war times, it was the perfect time to strike a nerve within every person that read it. Do I believe it is realistic? No, however, I do believe that it was symbolic of Jackson's views of her life, her community and her overall view of society.

Mock Facebook Page

 Louise Mallard

• 10 Posts
1. Well, it's confirmed, my heart isn't as agile as I had wished.
2. Rest in peace my love, you will be terribly missed. --with Josephine & Richards
3. I just can't stop crying..
4. Spring is in the air!
5. I feel something is coming, I just can't place it..
6. I am afraid. So many days ahead of me and I don't know how to face them.
7. I am so alone, alone forever.
8. Free! Body and soul free!
9. I only pray that I can live a long life.
10. My husband is alive! Thank the--
• The thing about windows is they seem to take you away with them.. 
• Article: Spring is coming!
• http://botanical.com/site/column_rita/spring_has_sprung.html

Boys, Boys

"Girl" Imitation

Stand up straight, tuck in your shirt. No, you can't wear pink. Don't talk to your momma like that. No girl sports. Take care of your brother and sister. You will do the dishes for momma after dinner every night. Every weekend you are to mow lawns and save for college. No, you can't wear pink. You can only stay out late with teammates, don't go bringing a girl around here. Work hard in school. Only smart kids can play sports. No, you can't watch those sappy flicks. Someday you will have to take care of your mother and I. You are to be a businessman, not a grunt like me. Don't you dare disrespect your elders. And no, for god sakes, you can't wear pink.

Dialogue

Narrative: Robin and Claire are best friends. Recently, they have taken to a healthier lifestyle and now spend at least an hour a day working out and getting into shape at the gym. Tonight they are doing the same, but have decided to use a machine in the gym they have never used before. The two are twins, the machines that is, both working hip abductors but doing so in the opposite direction. The two girls take a seat.

Robin: "I love these machines, really work your butt."

Claire: "Can you say bikini?"

Robin: "What?"

Claire: "Every time I do a rep, no matter how embarassing it looks I say bikini! It reminds me of why I am doing this."

Robin: "Why is this embarassing?"

Claire: "Are you kidding, these machines make us look like we're maids in waiting, if you know what I mean. Swing my legs open, HELLO!"

--Both laugh uncontrollably for a few minutes"

Claire: "I feel like we should name these the hello machines."

Robin: "I think we can come up with something better than that." (Smiles)

Claire:"I know! We can call them spread and eagle!"

--Both burst out in laughter yet again--

Robin: "I knew there was a reason we are friends."

Claire: "Just trying to keep things entertaining that's all!"

Test Prep 2

Elegy- traditionally a long, serious poem describing a death or tragic occurrence. In modern poetry, it can be used for personal statements. It is key to know that it is not the same as a Eulogy, the words that are said in memorial at funerals, and why they both deal with loss, a Elegy deals with transition and the fact that almost everything in life is temporary. You can find them about people as well as objects.

 

Poem Examples

Marie Howe

This is it. Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss-we want more and more and then more of it.But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I'm speechless: I am living. I remember you.

A.E. Houseman

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

Video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdHpsbsdSLI
 

Test Prep

The term I am going to further explore is "Abstraction"
Dictionary definition: Language that describes ideas or qualities rather than tangible, observable people, places and things that are described in concrete language

Creative Writing Exercise Website: http://www.practicalcreativewriting.com/abstract-creative-writing-exercises/

Example:

GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

-Gerard Manley Hopkins 1918

My own personal Howl

I saw the minds of my generation become strangers who have warped the world I know into something I can’t recognize, let alone keep up with.

Who live off of preserved fats and cell phones, French fries in one hand, texting in another, and yet still driving, uncaring of the consequences it might bring to them and others; pack on the pounds and in turn popping diet pills, then complaining about never being able to live healthy.

 Who will never know how it feels to conquer a treadmill, how your legs feel after a 10k run, who expect everything for the nothing that they give.

Who inflict pain on their own families and believe fidelity is something of the past, turning their loved ones into cynics and degrading the concept of marriage, which once used to hold this country together and now defines us as liars and cheats.

Who give pregnant teenage girls television shows that entertain us during dinner, every family member in a separate room with eyes glued to the TV, watching the spectacles of society without realizing what they have all around them, just focused on what we now call “prime entertainment.”

Who have been taught that it is acceptable to disrespect one’s own mother and father, or elders in general, who know everything yet know nothing, see a good spanking as abuse and will never know the feeling of a day of hard work.

 And their parents who buy them cell phones, laptops and I-everythings, in turn everyone loses the experience of playing out in the summer sun all day long, coming in with black bare feet and sun tanned skin.

I saw the minds of my generation become drones who have lost all beauty, who believe beauty to be something we must create.

Who bully others for their own internal problems, either physical, or perhaps worse, verbally, slowly killing an innocent bystander.

Who go under the knife for wrinkles, which once used to show wisdom but now show weakness, forking away every last penny and ripping it from the hands of those who could truly use it, just to reach the standards of those who tell them that beauty is not within.

And know that looking good in a t-shirt and jeans is not enough, spending hours every day primping and prepping to only be judged by every passerby every second, yet get up and smear on more make-up the next day.

Who have lost sight truly, given more importance to social pressures and cultural stigmas than to an education and self-strength, more worried about if they fit in than if their mind and heart is in the right place.

Who love no one but themselves, the Snookie’s and J-Woww’s of the world who somehow become models for every girl I know, who have put real women, real heroes away somehow, and the Bieber’s that make them believe this is right, that we must strive to be these people who exploit themselves for money.

I saw the minds of my generation become weak, under the thumb of everyone else’s opinions, which then are the opinions of others, and yet others more.

Who can no longer think for themselves, no longer know what it means to be unique, long to please others rather than to build upon their own soul, those people that just go with the flow instead of challenging the current.

Who are so far in debt that they cannot even afford to buy books for school, because they have already paid three grand and above just to walk in the door, who have to work two jobs and pay bills and still bring home the straight A’s for momma.

Who live their lives through technology and forget about what it means to have a conversation, to be able to bring something to the table, to listen and respond and communicate, because all the while they are updating their status or texting someone who they don’t have the gall to talk to in person.

I saw my generation use time as an excuse, when we are given so much of it, squander opportunities and accept being mediocre.

Who live off welfare while a father somewhere is working eighty plus hours a week to put food on the table and simultaneously feed someone miles away who lives off of his income, watching programs all day and packing on the pounds, living in a luxury that some will never know.

Who complain about every politician from the comfort of their couch, all of the sudden we are all educated in the most controversial of all practices, striking down those who at least have the guts to try, when from the very beginning they are wrong in all that they do.

Who punish those who rise from the pack, crushing them with loans and impossible expectancies, forcing them to work to the bone and still keep them from touching their dreams, rejecting them from med school for only getting a 3.9 GPA in the midst of a full course schedule, mom’s cancer and three kids, rejecting them from retirement and social security after sixty years of hard labor, rejecting them from publishing their life’s work after years of endless nights, endless work and endless debt.

Who no longer strive to be doctors, lawyers and the like, no longer strive for greatness at all, instead searching for the formula that does not exist: minimal work for maximum reward.

Revision to Imagery Poem

"Lava Lamp"

Flowing, free blue and green goo
It is an ocean in a bottle that lights up the room.

Just being an imagist, that's all..

"Lava Lamp"

Flowing, free blue and green goo
Mesmerizing swirls that light up the room

13 Ways of Looking at an Artichoke

i. Amongst the plethora of veggies,
there is a flower of my fantasies,
the artichoke shines above the rest.

ii. I am a college student
With a joke of a budget
Who works maximum hours for minimum pay

iii. Though I may be cheap
I ask, "Do I answer my craving?"
When just a few feet away
My love is a'waving

iv. A taste bud and an artichoke
are one
A smile and a laugh and an artichoke
are one

v. I'd beat my brains out before I could decide
What I love most..
Sauce or no sauce
Farm grown or store bought
Steamed or fried
On pizza, in dip, or without any make-up at all

vi. The earthy aroma of artichokes
Fuels my family in the summer
Brings back memories of treasured times
When we peeled and we plucked
Until our fingers went numb

vii. Oh the endless list
Of those who have dismissed such heaven
I will never understand
Why you deny yourself this way

viii. I know of banging peppers
I know of zesty zuchinni
I know of boisterous broccoli and tear-wrenching onions.
But at the beginning and end of every day
I know that the heart of the artichoke is matched to my own.

ix. When I peel the last petal
Carve out the last patches of fur
I know that I will never be able
To cast out something so essential.

x. To know the cover this beauty has been judged by
To see it so outcast among my closest peers
A misunderstood vegetable
I vow to pluck from every shelf

xi. A farmer stumbles upon a flower so ugly
A weed he intends to pluck
Then realizes that he mistook a treasure
for a monstrocity
Realizing his folly, spreads his gold around the world

xii. My sister is in the kitchen
Without saying I know what momma's cooking
Lovely sunshine through the window
We find happiness once again at the table

xiii. It is summer on the lake
Warmth on our skin and in our hearts
As we pluck yet another petal
My sister and I, memories I could never replace
On the docks, a bowl in between us
Piling petals until the last summer sun slept.
Until next time

Ode to my Laptop

I am completely unsure if I did this correctly, but here it goes.

“Ode to my Laptop”

One day my mother

Brought home my graduation gift.

It caught me by surprise

When I realized what it was.

 

The color of charcoal,

The kind that makes summer nights tasty,

And square and smooth

Like cool cement on a hot summer’s day.

Its keys tip-tapped away

With ease that made yoga seem tiresome.

 

A screen that opens the world up

Like a present on Christmas day,

It took me to any place I wanted to go

A personal vacation on the comfort of my couch.

 

It made old days seem new,

Assignments seem like fun.

It made notebooks seem silly,

And it made college seem like an attainable dream.

 

Since that day it has known as my right hand woman,

Definitely a woman due to her brilliance.

She is my escape, a place for my thoughts,

The music player while I am in the shower.

 

My laptop, once cold and naïve

Now holds me in a nutshell

What once was a display in a Costco

Now has a home in my life.

Litany Imitation :)

As much as I would love to be able to write about my mom or a pet, I figure I've got to take my opportunities when they are given to me. With that being said, this is for my (incredibly recent) ex boyfriend, and I am sure he will appreciate this, not!


You are the stars and the song,
the movie night and the rain.
You are the waves on the shore
and the cozy blanket on the couch.
You are the tree on Christmas morning
and the hug after a long day.

However, you are not the smile on a face,
the pair of new shoes,
or the cup of morning coffee.
And you are certainly not the smell of an old book.
There is just no way you are the smell of an old book.

It is possible that you are the beer on the river,
maybe even a road trip home.
But you are not even close to being the oxygen in the air.

A quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither bacon for breakfast
nor a Stevie Nicks concert.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the strength of the sun in the sky.
I also happen to be the lake in the summer,
the banana bread fresh out of the oven,
and the lioness on the savannah.

I am also the Blink 182 song, and the summer of '69.
But don't worry, I'm not the stars and the song.
You are still the stars and the song.
You will always be the stars and the song.
Not to mention the movie night and somehow--the rain.

Just Getting Started..

Hi! My name is Shelby Coder, and I am a sophomore here at LC. I am from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho generally, only because most people get that "deer in the headlights" look when I tell them I am actually from a small town called Rathdrum. Anyways, I came to Lewiston to study nursing, and as many times as I have switched majors, I think I'll stick with it. Generally English is not one of my favorite classes, hence my major, but I have found that Wendy makes it fun and easy to understand. I am friendly and a good study buddy so don't be afraid to approach me whenever! Looking forward to a great semester :)