Sunday, November 27, 2011

Sudane Famine~November 27

No graded blog for my class this week, so I decided to talk about the Pulitzer Prize winning pictures displayed in Billings this weekend, where they will remain for a couple weeks.  Copies of every picture that won this prize from the 40's to 2011 were there.  Most in black and white and a maximum of 2 per year won this prestigious prize.

The collection of pictures showed a rather morbid theme.  It is a pity that so many of our defining pictures show the deceased, torture, or the suffering.  Some were certainly uplifting, but much too small of a percentage.  The photo with the most weight for me is the one below, from 1994.  A South African man took this photo of a young, starving girl.  She was on her way to a food or water line, but didn't make it.  The photographer was criticized for taking her picture instead of carrying her to the line and helping her.  Who was right?  Feel free to comment.  He took a photo to capture the incomprehensible amount of starvation and suffering endured by others in third world countries.  He was advised by the head journalists to avoid contact with natives, due to the possibility of disease spread.  The girl, due to never reaching the line, died.  He committed suicide three months later.  The photographer was in his thirties.  Do you see the vulture?  Where are the parents? 
And what did you do on your Thanksgiving?  Grateful for anything?


http://pulitzerprize.org/files/2009/07/kevin-carter-1994.jpg

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Don Quixote by Cervates~November 18

Why did I choose to read Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes?
Last semester, in World Literature I, we read and discussed a few chapters of Don Quixote.  What I read I liked and it sure seems like a classic, with some humor put in, with this feminine guy that lives in a functional society randomly becoming a knight.  We did not touch on Sancho Panza very much, but followed Don Quixote through some fun adventures.  My teacher said that she had the book at her house, so I could avoid filling out one of those nasty ILL forms.  I had no idea how massive this book is (940 pages of small print)!  It's too late now, so I will just try to get through it.  I am sure I will like it, with knights and chivalry and such.  Cervantes is also a Spaniard, which I have a huge interest in.  Many phrases in the book are in Spanish with a note of what it means.  Hopefully I can learn some Spanish words throughout this book.  Don Quixote travelling through life, being a knight, fighting dragons, and seeing castles that nobody else has the imagination for certainly reminds me of my life and my very realistic zombie hunting.  I have asked multiple people if they believe in zombies, with most answers being no, except my aunt, cousin, and the few people that humor me.  This book will hopefully be like an autobiography.  I guarantee you seƱora (as well as Shane, yes you know it's true), I saw a zombie at the Co-Op in Bozeman.  Few people believe me, probably about as many as believed Don Quixote attacked those great dragons who discredited him in belief that they were windmills.  My last and probably most important reason in the entire world to read Don Quixote by Cervantes is as follows:  in a scene in Zombieland, Columbus and Tallahassee meet Little Rock and Wichita in a store.  Tallahassee goes to talk with the two girls while Columbus puts a box in the door to prop it open.  After Tallahassee and the girls talk for a bit, Columbus walks in and is asked by Little Rock, "So you did all this for a Twinkie?" Columbus replies, "Oh no no no no no. He did [referring to Tallahassee].  I'm just sort of a Sancho Panza type of character".  Clearly any reference to a book in Zombieland demands that book be immediately read.  Now I have the opportunity.

What have I learned about Cervantes?
The coolest thing I have learned about Miguel is that he was abducted by barbary pirates for five years and held captive in Algeria.  He tried to escape four times, and after five years, his family paid his ransom for freedom.  Don Quixote was published in two parts, the first of which was published in 1605 and the second in 1615, one year before Cervantes died.  Cervantes died the exact same day as William Shakespeare, on the 23rd of April, 1616.  Miguel published twelve "short stories" in 1613, titled the Exemplary Novels.  Miguel was a Spaniard, born in Alcala de Henares, Spain and died in Madrid.  All of his works were originally published in Spanish.  At a young age, Cervantes fled Spain after a duel where he wounded a man.  He went to Italy and enlisted in Naples as a soldier.  Cervantes married Catalina de Palacios in 1584.

A timeline of Miguel de Cervantes' life:
September 29, 1547-born in Alcala de Henares, Spain
1569-ran away to Italy after wounding a man in a duel
1570-enlisted as a soldier in Naples
1571-lost use of his left hand by a musket shot
1575-taken to Algeria by barbary pirates
1580-his family paid ransom for him to leave Algeria
1584-married Catalina de Palacios
1585-publishes La Galatea
1593-his father, Don Rodrigo de Cervates, died
1605-completes the first part of Don Quixote
1613-publishes the Exemplary Novels
1615-completes Don Quixote
April 23rd, 1616-dies in Madrid, the same day as Shakespeare

Below is my timeline, in black and white, of Miguel de Cervantes!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Los Jefes del Calle~November 9

Joseph
A.P. English
November 10, 2011

Los Jefes del Calle
           
In The Road by Cormac Mccarthy, some type of unknown apocalypse happens.  The book takes place after the apocalypse, with some flashbacks to before.  Through his minimalism, we can imagine many aspects of the book, while seeing larger concepts and truths of humanity from what he has written.  An apocalypse, by Greek definition, means the removal of the veil.  This means after or during an apocalypse, some previous falsehood will be corrected to the survivors.  McCarthy exhibits many paradoxes in the book, one of the most notable being the intertwined relationship of two opposites, good and evil.  In the apocalypse, the veil of the line between good and evil will be lifted.
The line that separates today’s evils from goods becomes lifted and evils of our world can be considered good in McCarthy’s The Road.  Killing, plundering, and lying are evils in our world.  Through irony, McCarthy depicts the pure evilness of these actions making them become saviors to the man and boy.  Given the change of circumstances after the apocalypse, evils can be changed to goods.  The boy and man encountered a hillbilly man who was held at gunpoint by the boy’s father.  “He dove and grabbed the boy and rolled and came up holding him against his chest with the knife at his throat.  The man had already dropped to the ground and he swung with him and leveled the pistol and fired from a two-handed position balanced on both knees at a distance of six feet” (66).  Later, in giving rationale about killing the man holding a knife to his son’s throat, the man says, “My job is to take care of you.  I was appointed to do that by God.  I will kill anyone who touches you.  Do you understand?” (77).  The man killed from necessity.  This vile human’s death is a good in the post-apocalyptic world.  If this action was not completed, the man would have killed his son, the most innocent, kind individual encountered in the novel.  The man and his group of men would most likely find and eat the child.  A murder saved all this horror, becoming a good.
Plundering has become a good for the man and boy.  Without plundering residences and taking what is not theirs, survival would not exist.  The boy and man plunder homes, stores, and a ship throughout the story.  In saying a gratitude prayer to people who stashed the numerous supplies in an underground room beneath their lawn, which the boy and man took advantage of, the boy says, “Dear people, thank you for all this food and stuff.  We know that you saved it for yourself and if you were here we wouldnt eat it no matter how hungry we were and we’re sorry that you didnt get to eat it and we hope that you’re safe in Heaven with God” (146).  Only plundering from places where people cannot be found has become a good.  It saves them and appears not to harm anyone.
            Lying has become a savior for the boy.  Lies told by the man help the boy rationalize their actions and establish their status as good or bad guys.  In a conversation when the man says that the “bad guys” will not find them, the following conversation occurs, 
“Do you think they’ll find us? 
No. They wont find us. 
They might find us. 
No they wont.  They wont find us” (148).  The man cannot say with certainty that they won’t find them, but saying this helps the boy’s mind be at ease.  In another instance, the man must have promised the boy that they will equally share all food and beverage items.  The man broke this promise by giving the boy some hot cocoa, while retaining merely all water for himself.
“You promised not to do that, the boy said.
What?
You know what, Papa.
He poured the hot water back into the pan and took the boy’s cup and poured some of the cocoa into his own and then handed it back” (34).  The boy did notice this unequal distribution of supplies.  Had he not, the man lying about it would have resulted in better tasting cocoa for the boy with extra vitamins and calories. The man says to the boy, “We’re not going to die” (100).  Obviously this is not true.  Everybody dies.  The man said this to the boy to raise his spirits.
The line that separates today’s goods from evils becomes lifted and goods of our world can be considered evil in McCarthy’s The Road.  Trust, sharing, and society are goods in our world.  When these seemingly good actions become evil in the post-apocalyptic world, paranoia develops in many, especially the boy’s father.  He is wary of all others except his son, not knowing what their motivations are.  When the man gave the slightest trust and didn’t just kill the hillbilly, all he got was a knife held to his son’s throat.  The hillbilly dropped his belt with a knife sheath.  “When he looked up the roadrat was holding the knife in his hand.  He’d only taken two steps but he was almost between him and the child” (66).  This is what trusting strangers gets you in the post-apocalyptic world.
Sharing does nothing but make you weaker and diminish your supplies.  Sharing in this world can lead to your demise.  The following conversation ensues between the boy and man in making a decision to help the total stranger, Ely,
“What do you want to give him?
What do you think he should have?
I don’t think he should have anything.  What do you want to give him?
We could cook something on the stove.  He could eat with us.
You’re talking about stopping.  For the night (164-5).”  The man knows a lot about survival and so wants to give Ely nothing.  This would be the best for both the boy and man.  They would have more food to last an extra day or two.  They would not run the risk of being attacked by other people with this possible decoy.  The boy is only surviving thanks to the man’s hardiness, skill in locating food, and carefulness.
The man and boy saw a phalanx of people trekking on the road.  The men were equipped with pipe with leather wrappings, lanyards, spears, or lances.  “Behind them came wagons drawn by slaves in harness and piled with goods of war and after that women, perhaps a dozen in number, some of them pregnant, and lastly a supplementary consort of catamites illclothed against the cold and fitted in dogcollars and yoked each to each” (92).  This contraband of people functioned as a mini society.  The adult men enslaved everyone else.  They raped the children and women, evident from many of them being pregnant.  They chained them all to one another.  This is what society ends up becoming in this world.  Nothing good will come of it.  Terribly unfair class separations arise.  The entire group will also need more supplies to feed and cloth the increased number of people.  The men in the group solve this problem by killing anyone they come upon.
People often will only see beneath the veil after the world ends.  When we lose the decorations and luxuries of life, the decorative line between good and evil will be lost as well.  As Ely says, “There is no God and we are his prophets” (170).  In this time, as things and people are being lost, so is the luxury of religion.  As these disappear, so will the line between good and evil.  People are the prophets to no God.  God is viewed as the ultimate judge, and without him, no other deity will place a line between good and evil.
When no enforcement exists to punish the “evil”, no fear of punishment or want of reward exists.  Many evils in our world and the post-apocalyptic world serve the individual.  For example, killing eliminates competition and provides food and stealing provides you with more supplies.  With nothing to check evils and apply punishments, everyone starts to do what serves them best combined with personal morals.  These will vary greatly from person to person.
This line between good and evil represents a functional society, with evils punished to make the group good; when society is gone, so is the line.  Growth, prosperity, innovativeness, adaptability, and laws help to define a functional society.  Laws provide guidelines of right from wrong and provide consequences for wrongs.  As societies fall and order becomes lost, nobody cares about laws and the differentiation between evil and good actions.
In McCarthy’s The Road, there was an apocalypse.  The exact cause of the apocalypse is unknown.  This apocalypse removed the veil from the falsehood of a line between good and evil for all survivors.  No longer was there confusion between right and wrong as the line was lifted, to pastiche the two together into one.  Good and evil become one another and their own opposite from our world to this new, post-apocalyptic world.  It takes an end of the world for people to understand the truth behind this falsehood.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

La Via~November 3

A continuation of The Road by Cormac McCarthy:

They keep going south along the coast.  Nobody else.  Another derelict.  This one wasnt stuck in the beach.  They checked it out and set up camp.  The papers in Spanish and Mandarin.  Man searched it.  Found only five cans of fruit.  He held the wheel, his hands the perfect size.

Can you drive it?
Yup.
Will we take it anywhere?
I dont know.
Okay.

That night everyone camped just off the beach in the dead forest.  There were six of them.  The three kids talked.  Before falling asleep, the boy talked to his father.  Praying.  Kneeling to the starlight.  He spoke.  Nothing.  Again Hello?  Tried to imagine what his father would say.

Hello?
Son.
Papa.
Silence.
Where are you?
I dont know, but your mother is beautiful.
Did you find good guys?
Yes. In a whole community of them.  And you?
I dont know.  I think so.  Theres two other kids.
Good.
When can I be with you?
The later the better for you; the sooner the better for me.
When?
Never.
Okay night.
Night.

Everyone swam out to the derelict.  Man built a fire on the deck.  Clothes were hung and dried.  The man went to the wheel and they began moving.  Water hitting the sides.  Two days and nights eating scantily.  Then land.  They disembarked.  Rocky beach.  The trash floating around in another alphabet.  The noise.  Fifty freaks sprinting towards them.  Time to go.  Back to the ship.  Barely in time.  The freaks couldnt board.  The man brought the ship into the bay.  More freaks.  All bloody.  Maybe 175 now.  Gaping mouths.  300.  Moaning.  Cant count.

What are they?
The boy's father:  you dont want to know.
I do.
Part of the reason for this horrific world.
How?
Remember what states are from what ive told you?
Yes.
Well.  States north of here were messing with what got you sick but worse.  A weapon.  To attack other states.  Something happened.
The freaks?
Yes the freaks.
Will I get sick like that?
No.
Why?
Youve made it long enough that you cant be affected.
Okay.
Okay.
Can I talk to mom?
Not now.

A gunshot.  Back to reality.  A biomass of humans snarling on the beach.  The man shot one.  What are they?  Where are we?  An island.  Where?  Man turned the ship around and away from the land.  Food is low.

Where are we going?
Back to the mainland away from here.
Will there be food?
Yes.
Good.
What are those things?
Homo sapiens.
Really?
Yes. But sick. Very sick.
How?
There was a mistake.

The man turned away, his left eye sparkling green, the right blue as nothing from this world.  He kept sailing, his short stature looking at home at the wheel.

What mistake?
We screwed up.
You did this?
No.
Well then who?
Our superiors.  We had the best weapon.  We needed our land back.  A side effect.

Land in sight.  The mainland?  He dropped the anchor and they swam to shore through the freezing sludge.  We cant go back.  No hope.  Best go south again.  No roads.  Cross-country.  They headed south.  It began.  The sky got even darker.  Still darker.  Dark.  Grey.  Brown. Black.  Nothing.  Get down everyone.  Huddled under a huge tree.  Specks of liquid on the face and hands.  Heavier.  Harder.  More.  Now a solid falling.  Frozen golf balls smashing into the ground.  Nothing to do but wait out the tempest.  The boy fell asleep, head on the man.  Morning.  The man rose to assess damage.  A couple cans were smashed and the woman's backpack had a whole in it.  Where is the boy?  Not here.  Panic.  They ran up and down the beach.  No tracks.  Something floated in with the tide.  The boy has surely lost his innocence.  What innocence?  He never had any.

Papa why did you leave me?
I couldnt stay.  I would have died to, but it ended taking me away anyways.
I want to be with you.
No.
But I want to.
You cant.  You need to stay and survive.  Who else will carry the fire?
This group.
No its you.  You need to.
Can I give this man the fire?
No the fire is in you,
Okay.

The boy went to sleep.  A dream.  Not a nightmare.  His father.  A bright light.  The sky light.  White.  Something about a plane?  He was going somewhere?  His father in the seat next to him asleep.  A person in the aisle offering a him a liquor.  No.  Where is he?  intertwined grey lines below.  Moving dots, like ants.
He awoke.  What a nightmare.  He jumped out of bed and sprinted down the hallway to his parent's room. 

Mom.
What? Its three AM.  What do you need?
Where is he?
Who?
My uncle.
Which one?
Yorma.
I dont know son I think at his lab taking a night shift, working on some reverse vaccine or bacteria.  Do you think its bad for his heterochromia to be up this late?