Yeah, I did make this class my own!

At the beginning of my English 222 class, Dr. Vince presented us with an usual challenge: to Blogg about our class readings and to take ownership of this class. I have never tried blogging before (although it seems relatively fun), nor have I really felt like I ever owned any class I've ever taken, so this was new to me. I like interesting challenges though, so I set out to do just that.

I believe I have succeeded in that mission.

Instead of just retelling what was said, I tried to incorporate my own ideas and/or experiences into my bloggs, like:

 I was so happy for this little farmer guy for his triumph over the military and death itself, yet it actually was just him picturing what he wanted to happen before he croaked.


At first, I was able to accept that, and even wonder about that sort of thing myself, debating on whether or not it is possible to be in love with someone and have sex with another and not feel guilty about it. In the end, however, I came to the same conclusion that most of our society has rammed down our throats for years: no.


So is the real thing necessarily better than others? I say no. But at the same time, that doesn't necessarily mean that the real thing is less than others either. 

It wasn't just about me adding my own opinions into the stories either, some of my bloggs were myself telling my own story and how it meshed with our readings, usually showing how I grew a little bit from those stories, like these! :

While sweeping the floor, Roosevelt's challenge kept popping into my head. At first I tried to reason it away, surely it only applied to physical things, right? But eventually I realized that Roosevelt's message wasn't just about physical challenges (although without a doubt that's one of the things he was saying), but his challenge was to step out of ALL of our comfort zones to build our character. Keeping with what I know and getting lazy in it would only end up stunting my growth and keeping me from going forward.


To sum it up, I feel like I'm a pretty darn lucky guy, when you look at people who can't even manage to get food, let alone shelter for even a night or a nice bath! And that's not all! Even the poor people in our society are better off than people in other countries who get even less than our poor does!


The point of that story is simply this: at least in my experience, the less words you use, the more bitter and angry you come off. "Cathedral" does a very good job of capturing that style, and it reminded me exactly why I prefer to use a lot more words to get my point across.


I also kinda took advantage of these assignment as a way to vent out some frustrations and face some of my demons... like these:


It all makes me sick. I wish I knew just how to actually gain my own identity, instead of feeling like I'm just another of the Parrish boys...


This wasn't the first time one of our managers has asked me to work on register, and I'm sure it won't be the last. They all seem to think that I am ready for the register, unlike myself, who is perfectly content with sticking to sweeping (which is always what I tend to be doing when they ask me about register). I am comfortable with staying in lobby, I know how to do it.


So basically, what I'm trying to say is this: I tried my best to use this class not only as a requirement for graduation, but actually as a learning experience (something that strangely seems to allude the education field, or so I have felt recently), and I (somewhat) enjoyed this class :)


Thank you for reading all of these bloggs!

Bipolar Economy

Recently while at work, I have been continuously assigned the role as Drive Thru Backup (the one who talks in that speaker box), so I am constantly asking customers what they want to eat. As annoying as that is (the headset gives me a headache), we're also timed on how long the customers are in the Drive Thru, to ensure customer satisfaction.

But we had been taking too long apparently, so one of our managers decided to write us up if we don't stay below a certain time, and if we get three write-ups, we lose our job. Thus, we quickly began treating the Drive Thru as a race to get rid of the customers.

Our managers also want us to take in as much money as possible, so they began inforcing a policy that requires us to ask every customer if they'd like any extra sauce or for us to upsize their drinks, for a small fee of course.

In other words, they want us to harrass our customers to buy more things, then push them out as quickly as possible...

Suddenly I begin hating the customers (they're bringing up "my drive time"!) and the customers begin getting annoyed with us bothering them to get more things. It's like we're constantly fighting each other, and all of our coworkers feel like our only allies. You're either with us or against us.

In "Glengarry Glen Ross", it seems tp be even worse than that. Their job is to swindle people out of as much money as possible. They're not crooks (well, most of them aren't), it's legal what they do, selling land.

Here is a quotr that I think drives my point home though:

"They signed, Ricky. It was GREAT. It was fucking great. It was like they wilted all at once. No GESTURE... nothing. Like together. They, I swear to God, they both kind of IMPERCEPTIBLY SLUMPED."

Our economy is about competition. Not just with our fellow salesmen though, we compete with even the consumers.

Admiration

As I was reading some of Billy Collins's work, I came across "I Chop Some Parsley While Listening to Art Blakey's Version of 'Three Blind Mice'," I just started giggling to myself.

Why? Well first off, the idea itself is funny to me, as it was intended. However, what made this particularly funny to me was the fact that this sounds exactly like some of my conversations with my brothers.

I should point out that usually when we start talking like that, either my mom or my sister gets mad at us and tells us to stop being "smart-butts".

For him to not only be allowed to do that sort of thing, but to be PAID to do that? Billy Collins is my new hero!

The Cathedral Effect

In Raymond Carver's "Cathedral", the narrator is a very minimal speaker. He just says what is there, that's pretty much it. Most people, however, are at least a little more flamboyant with our words, myself personally (if you haven't noticed) like to use a lot of words, even when I'm texting.

One day, my little brother and I we both texting this girl (at the time my girlfriend, but also my brother's friend), but she just randomly stopped replying to us. Being the thoughtless creatures we are, we continued to text her, until she blew up on each of us. Naturally, we got the message and left her alone, but later she apoligized to us bu explained why she couldn't talk very long.

At this point, a striking difference between my brother and I appeared. Both of us replied differently. Luke's reply was simply, "It's alright, later." My reply on the other hand was, " Don't worry about it, everyone gets stressed every now and then, and us bothering you doesn't help! So I understand, take all the time you need!"

She continued to apoligize to me about it, but just left it alone with my brother, and my brother was mad because I kept texting her even though she said she couldn't talk, but I felt like just using a few words to reply made it sound cold and like I was angry, so I continued to reply when she apoligized.

The point of that story is simply this: at least in my experience, the less words you use, the more bitter and angry you come off. "Cathedral" does a very good job of capturing that style, and it reminded me exactly why I prefer to use a lot more words to get my point across.

Quarter-life Crisis

I am nearly 20 years old, and I usually hate my life.

Why? Honestly, I'm not quite sure. I guess because I feel like I'm boring. I don't really do anything besides work and school, I only speak when spoken to, I do as I'm told. I never really made my own identity, I just follow along (not willingly of course, just look back at my last few bloggs, one of them is about me wanting to have an identity separate from my brothers) and try to stay out of trouble.

When? For a few years now honestly, but it really struck me hard whenever I started college last year and realized just how sheltered and boring I really was.

I've considered trying more dangerous things, challenging my concept of me, trying to break out of the mask others created for me. I've thought about drinking and/or smoking (still haven't done either), I've thought about trying to be more outgoing and maybe getting a girlfriend (just thought again), I've even considered joining the military (I'm too lazy though, and let's be honest, I don't exactly have the physique for that), but usually those sort of thoughts end as just that. Thoughts.

I'm not sure if this sort of thing is common, but I do know that Mid-Life-Crises are very common, and John Updike's "Separating" is about one man getting a divorce because of his Mid-Life-Crisis.

I've tried talking to people about it, but usually I either get laughed at (apparently I joke a lot) or I get told I'm being too dramatic, so if this is more than just my own feelings, I'd appreciate someone getting back to me on that.

A Broken Image

It's a very easy trap to fall in to, and as far as I've noticed, everyone's done it at some point in their life.

"My situation is horrible, everyone should feel sorry for me, no one feels worse than me right now!"

I was at work one day, and a coworker and an assistant manager were talking, so naturally, being the creeper that I am (ssssss... sorry, Minecraft joke...), I started to eavesdrop.

"I hate the idea of minimum wage, I hate the idea of poverty, I hate that some people have to work their..."

At first, I was thinking, yeah, preach it Andy (that's the assistant manager's name), but after a little while of listening to them talk, I was disgusted...

I may not live the most flamboyant lifestyle, but I do live surprisingly well. I have a somewhat stable roof over my head, I eat plenty of meals a day (junk food, but it's still food), I have light, water, I even have a good car and good insurance on the car and the apartment, a decent phone, and I still can afford all of these things with a little money leftover! This is, of course, on that minimum wage they were discussing, working about 30 hours/week. I also am able to go to school, in a safe environment, and be educated in many different subjects.

To sum it up, I feel like I'm a pretty darn lucky guy, when you look at people who can't even manage to get food, let alone shelter for even a night or a nice bath! And that's not all! Even the poor people in our society are better off than people in other countries who get even less than our poor does!

But humans define their lives with suffering (that is a loose quotation of the Matrix), we feel like if we're not suffering we're not really living, so we rationalize that by finding things to complain about, just showing how spoiled we really are. I've never had my home broken before, my parents are currently still together. I'm better off than the narrator in "The Broken Home." It's just a hard concept to grasp whenever you're staring down the barrel of life's challenges, but once you grasp that, life actually seems very cheerful, even in the face of hopelessness and bleakness.

In the Parrish District

As we were discussing "In the Miro District" in class, Dr. Vince stated that it seems like for men (or rather boys, as this is the coming of age to become men) define who they are by getting away from their fathers, or in this stories case, the narrator's grandfather. Afterwards, he asked the girls in the room if this is true for them as well, but most of them said no if I remember correctly (although one lady said it was that way with her and her sister), which actually tied along with what I have been learning in my Developmental Psychology class. Growing up, girls tend to enjoy enabling activities (their actions and remarks tend to support others and sustain the interaction) while boys tend to enjoy constricting activities (one partner tries to emerge as the victor by threatening or contradicting the other), which to me suggests that even at an early age, boys strive to be different.

This also went along with my own experiences, except instead of striving to be different from my father, I strived to break away from my older and younger brother, which is surprisingly difficult. I feel a deep sense of shame whenever I'm compared to them, even if I came out as the better brother, because I feel like we shouldn't even be comparable. I strive to be nothing like them, yet I'm constantly hearing the same things.
"Oh, you guys look just alike, are ya'll brothers?"
"Well he's already just like his brother, you're a little late Parrish."
"Awe, he's so nice and caring, ya'll must be brothers."
It all makes me sick. I wish I knew just how to actually gain my own identity, instead of feeling like I'm just another of the Parrish boys...

The Invisible Me (LOOK AT ME!!!)

"Oh, Kyle, when did you get there?"

I've heard that statement so many times it should be my catch phrase. And no, I don't just sneak up on people and surprise them. Oftentimes I'll be sitting right in front of them the whole time, waving my arms in front of them trying desperately to ask them a question (I'm always full of questions), and only then do they FINALLY notice me.

In Ralph Ellison's "The Invisible Man", the narrator has much the same issue (although to be fair, he is much less successful at even being noticed when he tries to get attention the way I do), and he is very bitter and angry by this fact. Don't get me wrong, I am also bitter, and occasionally I get angry at my seemingly invisibleness, but he clearly is a few steps above me in that area.

As the narrator has pointed out, there are some ups and downs to being invisible, and to follow along with Ellison's pattern, I'll start with the negative effects of visual nonexistence.

1. Many questions go unanswered because they are forced to go unquestioned.
Think about it. In class, when you need the teacher's help with something, the teacher can't help you if the teacher doesn't see you need help. Several times I've had to just figure things out on my own because searching for help was fruitless.

2. It's hard not to feel isolated.
Because of being invisible, it's hard to successfully approach someone to become their friend, and transversely it's very unlikely that I would be approached by another person. So instead I simply sit around other people, watching them talk, imagining myself making friends that way.

I'm sure there are many more negative effects of social invisibility, but those two in particular bother me. However, invisibility comes with many perks as well.

1. It's easy to sneak around without getting in trouble.
If I feel like I'm about to have to do something that I don't want to do, I can just easily sneak away before I'm asked to do it, and no one even notices (or if they do they don't bring it up to me later). Also, if I need to make an urgent phone call, it's easy to creep off without being rude.

2. My mistakes are constantly blamed on other people.
Yes, I'll admit I make a lot more mistakes at work than they give me credit for, simply because (to them) when the mistake was made, I was nowhere to be found, so it had to have been someone else.

3. I am constantly hearing things that most people consider private.
It's not uncommon for me to hear people share their secrets with people they trust, paying absolutely no mind to the unassuming figure right beside or even often times right in front of them.

There are many more perks as well I am sure, but these three help me feel better about my invisibleness.

Swept up

http://homepages.wmich.edu/~cooneys/poems/cummings.nextto.html

This writing is very interesting (and not just because it was by E. E. Cummings, who is a very unique artist), and it has a good message to it.

We all know those high-strung individuals who are blindly loyal to some cause or another, those who when asked to give up something for the cause, their only complaint is they couldn't give more.

Not that having a cause to be loyal to isn't a good thing. Quite the contrary! "If you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything" (Alexander Hamilton is credited for that quotation, if you're wondering)


The problem that Cummings (and myself personally) had wasn't having a cause, or having loyalty to a cause, but BLIND loyalty for a cause.


In this poem, the narrator questions the honor of dying for America in war. Dying isn't exactly something to just ignore or shrug off, yet there are a lot of people who feel that as long as it's for America, it's worth it.


Is it though? Is dying for anything worth it for that matter? That's a question we all need to ask ourselves, instead of getting sucked in to blind loyalty. And if after you thought about it, and you still believe giving your life to preserve or better America is noble and just, then all the more power to you! Just don't ignore the fact that the question needs to be asked.

To register strength

"So Kyle, would you like to work on register?"

I have been working at a local Zaxby's for a few months now. This was my first job, and I was only hired for this job because my older brother pulled some strings from the Zaxby's he works. Regardless, I was thankful for the chance to have a job at all, and I was eager to prove to them (and myself) that I am more than just Vance's brother, so I have been working as diligently as I can.

"I... I guess I am willing to..."

My job is actually very simple and pretty easy. If you can sweep, wipe off counters and tables, and put things on a shelf, you'd probably be more than qualified for this job. My position is called "lobby", because basically I keep everything in the lobby clean: tables, counters, bathrooms, patio, trash cans, floors, all that fun stuff to clean. That's been my job since the first day I was trained, and if I may say so myself, I've gotten to be at least pretty proficient at it.

"Alright, great! I'll work you into the schedule for next week!"

This wasn't the first time one of our managers has asked me to work on register, and I'm sure it won't be the last. They all seem to think that I am ready for the register, unlike myself, who is perfectly content with sticking to sweeping (which is always what I tend to be doing when they ask me about register). I am comfortable with staying in lobby, I know how to do it.

The next day, in our Lit class, Dr. Vince assigned for us to go over Theodore Roosevelt, and when we read part of "The Strenuous Life", it kinda struck a nerve. Roosevelt challenged us to go out of our comfort zone and find obstacles, yet here I was avoiding my obstacles.

At work that night, I was frantically cleaning the lobby (we had a huge rush of people that night), and when I finally had earned some free time to get a soda, one of my managers approached me.
"So Kyle, has anyone asked you about working register?"
"Yes'm," I replied while looking away.
"Oh yeah? Well how would you like to work register then?"
"I wouldn't actually, sorry," I replied honestly, and her expression was genuine confusion.
"Oh, okay, that's fine, I just thought you were getting bored out there," she explained.
"Well, I'm used to it, but I don't think I'm ready to try anything new yet," I spinelessly muttered out, then excused myself to go back and check on the lobby.

While sweeping the floor, Roosevelt's challenge kept popping into my head. At first I tried to reason it away, surely it only applied to physical things, right? But eventually I realized that Roosevelt's message wasn't just about physical challenges (although without a doubt that's one of the things he was saying), but his challenge was to step out of ALL of our comfort zones to build our character. Keeping with what I know and getting lazy in it would only end up stunting my growth and keeping me from going forward.

After sweeping I found my manager again (ironically she was helping a coworker of mine learn how to get in physical shape and challenge her body), and I waited until they were done talking, then told my manager about my change of heart.

(sorry I couldn't find a link for the reading, it was just a part of the work, and not the whole thing, so I couldn't find a link that didn't have way too much more than what I had read...)

The Real Question

Earlier in the semester, Dr. Vince asked us to read "The Real Thing" by Henry James (http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/2098/), and after we discussed it in class, it really got me thinking about things being real vs. being fake.

I know, at first, that battle sounds like there's no competition. We've grown up in a world of mass advertisement, so the idea that the "real deal" is superior has been flaunted at us since we were old enough to be sat down in front of a TV (so basically, whenever you're born it's already forced onto you), so naturally we regurgitate that philosophy whenever the need arises.

But wait, there's more! (yay advertisement joke!) Henry James gave us one example of how the "real thing" is not only no better than the fake, but it's actually worse in this case. Of course, I suppose you could make the point that the Monarch's weren't real models, but rather Miss Churm and the Italian are the real thing in that perspective maybe...

But what about the placebo effect? (if you're unsure as to what the placebo effect is, check THIS out! http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=placebo-effect-a-cure-in-the-mind. Skidoosh!) This effect shows that it doesn't take the real thing for something to work, as long as you think it'll work. And in another way, it actually could disprove that in some cases the real thing is better, because we could just THINK it would work better, when in reality, it's no different save for a brand label or social implications.

Also, take a look at some famous artists who, while portraying heterosexuals in some or all of their works, actually are homosexuals in real life, such as Neil Patrick Harris and Freddie Mercury. In the sitcom "How I Met Your Mother," Harris plays the womanizer Barney, and Queen's song "Fat Bottom Girls" is... well, self explanatory I suppose... Anyway, they seem to play the part of a heterosexual very well, sometimes better than actual heterosexuals could ever do.

So is the real thing necessarily better than others? I say no. But at the same time, that doesn't necessarily mean that the real thing is less than others either. Basically, my opinion is to just not take anything at face value and presume quality, but instead investigate for yourself what is good or bad.

Complaints for a seemingly happy ending

http://classiclit.about.com/od/stormkatechopin/a/aa_thestorm_kchopin.htm

The first time I read this story, I was outraged by the ending.

What?!?! Alcee and Calixta cheat on their lovers, and they just get away with it? And Clarisse is more than happy to have some time away from her husband? How is this a good way to end a story?!


Regardless, afterwards I tried to keep an open mind about it, so when we discussed this reading in class the next day, I tried to see where Kate Chopin was coming from.

Dr. Vince tried to explain that what Chopin was trying to get at was that, while society wants us to believe that love, marriage, and sex are all intertwined, people are more complex than that.

At first, I was able to accept that, and even wonder about that sort of thing myself, debating on whether or not it is possible to be in love with someone and have sex with another and not feel guilty about it. In the end, however, I came to the same conclusion that most of our society has rammed down our throats for years: no.

Scientific studies have shown that sex with love is more fruitful and satisfying than sex without love (http://www.livescience.com/11067-reasons-sex-linked-satisfaction-study-finds.html), and also there are countless examples of people who tried to have "meaningless sex" only to end up getting hurt because one of them falls in love with the other. While Chopin was true in believing that people are more complicated, she actually oversimplified the complex emotions that intertwine love, sex, and marriage, at least from what I can tell.

I suppose that my opinion is biased however, as I am interested in a monogamous marriage with plenty of sex (don't laugh, it's possible!), so I feel threatened by her ideals of unbounded passion. I'll let you decide for yourself, I hope this will inspire you to think for awhile (what a crime, how dare we think?), and I hope you enjoyed tonight's installment of American Lit: Kyle Style!

An Occurrence on my Galaxy Tab: Kyle's reaction to An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge

It's Sunday afternoon, and suddenly a thought casually strolls along into my head.

Hey, aren't you probably gonna have a reading assignment due tomorrow?

If that's not as inconvenient to you as it sounds to me, I should point out that I also have to go in to my part-time job tonight. Needless to say, I jumped on to my computer and tried to find out what our readings would be. Fortunately for me, at least one of the readings was able to be found online (which is fortunate because I'm poor, so I'm waiting on our refund checks from the school so I can buy the books required in my classes), and it was "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" by Ambrose Bierce.

I'd never read Bierce's writings before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. But naturally, I didn't have much of a choice, so I mindlessly threw his name and the title into my Google search bar and out came this link:

http://fiction.eserver.org/short/occurrence_at_owl_creek.html

So I click on the link and begin reading it on my Galaxy Tab, and at first I'm a little confused as to what's going on, but eventually I get the general setting. A man is being hung, and there's a group of soldiers playing executioner today (this is of course a very generalized version), and the hanging is just about to begin. Before the hanging is done however, we are introduced to the star of the show, one Mr. Peyton Farquhar, an unassuming planter, who begins thinking of an escape route.

I'm not gonna explain the whole story, and what parts I do explain I won't go into detail (since I put the link right there if you're really interested in the story), but I think I'll go ahead and spoil the ending for you, reader. We follow his escape, and his long, tiring journey back home, and he sees his beautiful wife, then he "feels a stunning blow upon the back of the neck," which is how it transitions to telling us that he died, and none of this actually happened...

After I read this, I went ahead and looked up more info on the book, slightly humored but also a bit angry. This story was published in 1890, which means that these sort of not-actually-happening stories have been going on for more than a century now at least. I was so happy for this little farmer guy for his triumph over the military and death itself, yet it actually was just him picturing what he wanted to happen before he croaked. A huge slap in the face, and writers have brought this sort of effect with them over the years (I can't remember many examples off the top of my head, but Futurama has used this in one of it's "Whatif machine" episodes), seeming like they just like to pick on their audience. Still though, the story was really cool, very descriptive, and I may actually look into more of Bierce's work in the future.

Well thanks for reading, and I hope you'll stay tuned to my next addition to American Lit: Kyle Style! Have a good rest of the day!