Hi! This is a Hofstra writing assignment in which I will blog to the world. Please enjoy.
Friday, October 28, 2011
A sentence is like...
A sentence is like a rope. A tightrope no less; being stretched and strung and set, calculated and measured to perfection. A person's life is based on this. This singular action creates tension, the walker stretches and steadies himself; waiting for the moment, ready for the time to take the first step. One foot up, the mind whirls, trying to keep balance, asking if it is worth it to raise the other foot. Are the circumstances set? Can he walk? The drums pound out the anticipation and he is moving along the edge of the safety and the plunge. Walking across the line occurs in absolute silence, will he make it? Can he prove himself worthy? And the crowd goes wild, and the tightrope walker breathes a sigh of relief.
Visions of Students Today
Michael Wesch's argument is that the world is in trouble and education is not helping. To deal with world issues, many turn to technology, while others send their sons and daughters to college. But technology is used for social aspects instead of work and college does not prepare students for real life. Students know this and so use technology to escape from class while sitting in it. Education has changed from the 19th century. Instead of books, there are laptops that cost more than some people; instead of doing, there is sitting; instead of knowledge, students leave with debt.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Word cloud
<a href="http://www.wordle.net/show/wrdl/4302725/Bolter_Cloud"
title="Wordle: Bolter Cloud"><img
src="http://www.wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/4302725/Bolter_Cloud"
alt="Wordle: Bolter Cloud"
style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd"></a>
Monday, October 24, 2011
Home is like...
Home is like a cage. It is safe but it is unhappy and undesirable. If I come back home for good, I have failed. If I lose my gpa then I am sentenced home, if I don't get a job after college then I am sentenced home, if I do anything wrong I am sentenced home. If I don't get a 3.0 this semester I go home to my parents' new downsized house, next to the high school I despise, near the neighbors who talk. The only time a cage is preferable is when I am lonely; then it is like the last wood pole holding up the tree house in the backyard. But right now the thought of coming home is like a thorn in my wing, I do not want to be sentenced back to my wire cage, back to my prison, back to my home.
Home is not like the sanctuary.
It is not like the wind in the grass. Nor the first bite into a Reeces peanut butter cup. It is not like a sleeping swan or a trip to Disneyland. Home is not like the songbird nor the warmth of a blanket.
Home is not like the first bite of a Reece's peanut butter cup. It is not like the slight resistance of the hard edge of chocolate before the sinking into the soft middle. It is not like the crunch of the peanut butter combining with the smooth, silky mix of cocoa, enhancing the taste of peanut and enriching the senses. Home is not the careful process of making sure that there is enough peanut butter per chocolate. It is not the feeling of happiness and warmth that stay on the palate long after the last swallow. It is not the licking of the fingers, consuming every last particle of chocolate. And home is definitely not the comforting knowledge that there is another Reece's in the package waiting to be enjoyed.
Home might be like the wind in the grass. Wind can be peaceful and soothing- like the image of the deaf violinist in a field or in August Rush when the boy too connects to nature and hears music in the wind. It can be beautiful but it can also be terrible and frightening. Wind can whip around your house as if searching for a way inside, trying to hurt you. It can threaten to blow you away. It can try to stop you, hinder you, push you back- keep you away from your goal. It can blind you. Wind can also be depressing. It can sound "wuthering" or like crying, desperate to be somewhere, desperate to get out.
Home is not like the sanctuary.
It is not like the wind in the grass. Nor the first bite into a Reeces peanut butter cup. It is not like a sleeping swan or a trip to Disneyland. Home is not like the songbird nor the warmth of a blanket.
Home is not like the first bite of a Reece's peanut butter cup. It is not like the slight resistance of the hard edge of chocolate before the sinking into the soft middle. It is not like the crunch of the peanut butter combining with the smooth, silky mix of cocoa, enhancing the taste of peanut and enriching the senses. Home is not the careful process of making sure that there is enough peanut butter per chocolate. It is not the feeling of happiness and warmth that stay on the palate long after the last swallow. It is not the licking of the fingers, consuming every last particle of chocolate. And home is definitely not the comforting knowledge that there is another Reece's in the package waiting to be enjoyed.
Home might be like the wind in the grass. Wind can be peaceful and soothing- like the image of the deaf violinist in a field or in August Rush when the boy too connects to nature and hears music in the wind. It can be beautiful but it can also be terrible and frightening. Wind can whip around your house as if searching for a way inside, trying to hurt you. It can threaten to blow you away. It can try to stop you, hinder you, push you back- keep you away from your goal. It can blind you. Wind can also be depressing. It can sound "wuthering" or like crying, desperate to be somewhere, desperate to get out.
Inkshedding Sample K
"The medium is the message." This is what writing teachers reiterate throughout high school. What do they mean by this? Why do they believe that mediums are such a necessity because they change how we understand things? Jay Bolter continues this argument by stating that the audience is always aware of the medium. And it is this factor that changes how the work is viewed, the message comes across, and the point of a piece. A piece that is created where the medium disappears will be viewed different than a piece where the medium is noticeable. For example, Bolter includes page cues in his book directing readers to other sections, much like hyperlinks. This makes the reader aware that they do not have to follow linearly. One way to receive favorable reviews from the audience is to incorporate them into the medium itself. This allows them to have a feeling of control. The radio uses this method by allowing their listeners to call in to argue their thoughts and ideas with the (usually outspoken) host. This incorporation is important because it makes the audience feel important and therefore gain their business. For this reason, incorporation is commonly found in many media forms.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Reading Quiz Redo
Jay Bolter in "Writing Space" condemns the end of the printed text. The very first quote is of how the printed book will destroy the church's method of learning through artwork like stained glass and the cathedral's beautiful architecture. He states, "The cathedral was a library ot be read..." Today, in cathedrals and other places to worship, the windows illuminates the pages of the books that the students learn from rather than teach the students themselves. Another way Bolter condemns print, is to accurately state that authors want their manuscripts published in print. Authors feel that to be published online is a wast of talent, because online writing are not valued as highly as a phisical object as a book can. "Both as authors and as readers, we still regard books and journals as the place to locate our most prestigious texts." Computer screens are no replacement to a page in a book and online is not a replacement for printed texts.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
D. John Edgor Whiteman
D. John Whiteman is an author of over 20 fiction and nonfiction books and is currently working on Fathers and Sons. He depicts eternal and internal struggles in a voice that can't be pinned down. He upholds teaching and causes students to remark, "He writes like we talk!" Whiteman won too many awards to be listed in five consecutive minutes and he displays a depiction of life that is at once beautiful and crude.
Fathers and Sons is about an orphan in Philadelphia who confronts racial equality and the summer of 1955. Throughout the story, Whiteman uses newspapers to enhance the plot and two examples of this is Emmett Trill's murder and the Philadelphia fire. As an author he is focused on the "unacceptable" in our world. He wonders how we maintain our dignity with all of the evil and things that should not be permitted by our humanity.
Fathers and Sons is about an orphan in Philadelphia who confronts racial equality and the summer of 1955. Throughout the story, Whiteman uses newspapers to enhance the plot and two examples of this is Emmett Trill's murder and the Philadelphia fire. As an author he is focused on the "unacceptable" in our world. He wonders how we maintain our dignity with all of the evil and things that should not be permitted by our humanity.
Writingphobia
I am afraid of writing; but not as much as Jacques Derrida. I am afraid that I will pour out a little of my heart and soul into a paper, and I will get rejected. It is a candle-snuffing feeling, as if a balloon full of air is popped. But when I feel like I am judged what I should be judged, I always know when I do not write a great paper, I am elated. When I am writing for my future self, however, I am never scared. I rush to put pen to paper, I rush to commit my thoughts and experiences to immortality, I rush to keep every detail in order. I know I will accurately judge myself, that I will be kind and thoughtful, that my reader will understand even if I do not make sense. Jacques Derrida does not have this warm feeling about writing. He knows that the reactions to his favorite form of writing could be disgust and rage. He is walking into the unknown, blindfolded, and danger lurks in every shadow. In the night, this thought forces itself upon him, and he is paralyzed until the part of his conscience that channels the views of society is dulled.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)