Final Revision Assignment

Typically when I begin the writing process I am pretty pissed that I even have to do a writing assignment!  It takes a while for me to clear the red from my vision and then I am free to sit at my computer and write.  Keep in mind this usually takes place about eight hours before my writing assignment is due, but this has nothing to do with my rebelling against the class, just showing off my procrastination skills!  Perhaps starting my writing assignments earlier enable me to have better, more concise, and thorough papers…….Maybe Ill allow myself ten hours instead of the normal eight…… Sitting in my room, after the red has faded of course, listening to music and thinking about what I am about to write is typically what I do before a paper.  Since I encourage any sort of laziness I am going to keep this step in my writing process!  In case you hadn’t noticed my spelling is pretty bad!  Sorta like a nine year old with a helmet on!  My dictionary is my best friend I will have to utilize it more often!(dang….wish I had it now!) 

 

The writing process was never fully clear to me until I had the pleasure of taking Mr. Thorns English class.  Only there did I learn that writing is in fact re-writing!  As a student that has not typically had to struggle for A’s I found the idea of working on an assignment long before it was due absurd!  My writing process usually involves sitting down at my computer the night before an assignment is due and clicking something out.  Normally the mediocre assignment is passable and sometimes I even get an A, but I never really have the satisfaction of knowing that I tried my hardest and got a grade I deserved.  Sitting in my room, usually the night before an assignment is due, I usually decompress as I listen to music and contemplate what to write about.  This helps me to clear my head and empty out the crap that has settled in my head throughout the day.  In order to avoid distractions and things cluttering my writing mind I could try to write in the morning before the day has taken a toll on me. 

I thought I had a pretty firm grasp on what the writing process is and that I was following this process fairly well.  Little did I know I wasn’t even in the same ball park.  The reason its called a process is because there is actually a process that must be followed in order to insure a quality piece of writing.  In Mr. Thorns English class this semester I have learned what writing actually is.  Writing is re-writing.  An idea sprouts and grows onto the page through your fingers. That doesn’t mean the writing is done, it now needs refining.  Much like a plant that grows wild, in order to insure a beautiful foundation we have to shape and mold it.  Sitting at a computer the night before an assignment is due and half assed coming up with the bare minimum is no longer acceptable, for me or my professors!

As I enter the next stage in English, I plan on being much better prepared!  No longer will I wait until the night before to finish assignments, I plan on being organized and thorough in my writing from here on out.  I usually wait until the end of my work day to begin homework, but at that point I am so exhausted I have no motivation.  I plan on starting assignments in the morning before my brain is cluttered with the monotony of life.  If I start an assignment long before it is due this will allow me to contentiously write and re-write. 

Writing has never been my strong suit, but I know, with a little more effort, I can be better.  My writing can be improved drastically with just a few tweaks.  After a long day at work the last thing I want to do is homework, so instead of foolishly saying I will do homework after work, I should do it in the morning with a clear head.  Starting assignments the day before they are do don’t turn out well for anyone, so beginning my homework earlier will enable me to produce quality work.  Taking breaks between writing is another way to ensure quality writing, the longer I work on something the more immune I am to the little mistakes that I have made.  Looking at the same piece of writing at a latter date will give me a fresh perspective that will produce an award winning assignment.

BA11

As I chew on my flaming hot cheetos I wonder what have I learned this semester in Mr Thorns class?  Hum?…..I think I have learned that on my last day in this class I would really enjoy some pizza…..You know Hot cheetos arn’t as good as I remember them being!  Then again I usually enjoyed them after engaging in activities where anything I ate tasted yummy.  Kinda like how Taco Bell is good only after a long night of quenching your thirst with cocktails.  Hum…What have I learned?  I have the tendences of going off on tangents….Im a really horrible speller…But then again I already knew that, this class just reaffirmed that!  I have learned that I enjoy writing, when it is something that I find interesting.  The fast pace of the class although rough at first has grown on me.   I have learned that still grammar evades me and I use the grammar of a nine year old special kid.  I have never struggled in any class I have ever taken until now, the assignments have been challenging and I have struggled with something for the first time in a long time.  I have been working full time and going to school since my junior year of high school and I think this semester that has finally caught up with me.  The importance of education has evaded me and I am on the cusp of just not coming back.  Does that make me a quiter?  I have learned in this class that I need a passion.  The energy of those around me including the instructor I find slightly intimidating and I wish I felt that passionate about something.  Raising my little sister for the past four years has been my passion but now I think I need something else.

Water?

As I sit in class and look around me at all the hard working students I wonder, What should I write about?  The subject is water, but really, how much do I know about water?  Its wet, best when chilled (much like a smooth cocktail) does wonders for my lawn but really what is water? 

My gaze sharpens on the water bottle sitting to my right.  The Dasani label reads ” Enhanced with minerals for a pure, fresh taste”.  Enhanced with minerals?  Really?  What minerals I wonder?  I read further, ” Minerals added for taste purified by reverse osmosis”. 

Now I know that reverse osmosis is the purification of a liquuid, usually water, that through the use of pressure allows the pure solvent in a substance to pass and filters the unpure substance to not pass.  The clear pure liquid that I am now drinking has been recycled?  I wonder what else are we doing with water to better our society?  How are we harnessing our natures resources in a manner that both improves our quality of life and also gives our Earth a little break? 
Doing a little bit of research I have discovered that the most common type of  renewable energy using water is Hydroelectricity.  Hydroelectricity is the use of the Earths gravity on flowing or running water, using the force of the water as it hits the ground that energy is then harnessed for energy.  Dams utalize this form of energy worldwide and provide 19% of the worlds electricity. 

The water sitting in front of me has now taken on a whole new meaning.  Not only does it refresh me and keep me happy but it also allows the world to function in a more pure way.  The Earth consists of 71 % water and only a small percentage of that is usable to humans.  The fresh water that we depend on is rapidly diminishing and the population of people are rapidly increasing.

wind?

The day is hot and sunny allowing you to go outside wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and flip flops.  The wind tugs a strand of your hair into your face and you casually flip it behind your ear as you continue to walk and bask in the suns warmth.  The moment between you and the wind goes unoticed but perhaps we can take a moment to appreciate what the wind is and what the wind means in our lives. 

The term renewable energy is used to describe wind because as long as the sun shines wind is blowing and we can use that energy of wind to create energy.  The effect of wind is caused by the suns rays hitting the planes of the earth and heating the Earth up unevenly.  The heat that rises from the Earth over land causes the cool air above it to rush in and take its place, creating the effect known as wind. 

People have recently learned how to harness this wind and use it as a source of energy.  Using the Earths natural resources to fuel our lives is far better on the environment and this is a source of energy we can continue to use without running out…Unless the sun stops shining and in that case we have bigger problems! 

The next time that the wind blows chunks of hair in your face take a moment to engoy it  who knows this might be the gust that is providing energy to your house!

Inebriation

Alaina Diaz

Paper 2

 final 

 

Inebriated

 

            Like any other night, this night was consumed with too much booze and too many people.  The possibility of the police breaking up the party was invigorating and yet inevitable.  Row after row of alcohol stood on every counter space, sparkling and dancing merrily in the glow of the artificial light as I flocked to them; like a moth to a flame.     

            The bottle seemed to tip of its own accord  as if my hand had a life of its own; bypassing my brain, nerves and will, feeding my body the poison.  Once recognizable faces now blurred into one chaotic mess.  Time seemed to slow down and the flashbacks began.  Much like the effects of a coke lacerated brain, fragments of my shattered life, like a broken mirror being thrust into my open eyes.  Broken fragments of the mirror began to spin, spiral, and slip beyond my grasp.

            Churning and yearning down my throat, sweet with the tang of childhood pain and loss, bitter with the remnants of alcohol.  The battle between my mind and body almost made me stop, almost. The flickering in my brain persisted, the coke effects continue and like an underground railroad with bad electricity, sparks ignite and threaten to engulf everything around me.  Vaguely I’m aware of voices, unconcerned with my wellbeing, quite simply irritated with the drunk girl who is stumbling around.  So again….My hand, holding the bottle of my beginning feeds me the elixir of happiness, sadness, anger and violence. 

 I am gone.

            With flashes and sparks I arrive to the year 1990 when I was just a little girl of five.  A little girl with scraggily hair and huge hazel eyes that are solemn and old beyond my years.  The sensation of falling and yet flying at the same time overcame me as I was scooped from the ground, and there he was…The consumer of the elixir himself. 

            “Do you see the moths girl?  Do you see the moths?”  He whispers in my ear, his warm rancid breath sweet and sour with the smell of alcohol. I frantically search for the moths I know there will be no escape, no right answer.

            “No” I whisper so soft he couldn’t possibly hear; yet somehow he does.

            “Wrong answer” he whispers back….And once again I am falling and life is weightless, meaningless.  Flashes of my childhood continue, as I flutter deeper into unconsciousness.

            Warm sun streams through the barn door.  The rays of the suns heat hitting the trailer home that we reside in, throwing the spears of light back into my face, my eyes, and I am blind.  Yet my fingers small and dirty still find the sandy pieces of copper, copper that needs to be sorted and cleaned.  One pile high with the sheen of clean copper, and the other, a tangled mess of dirty rejected pieces of copper.  I relate to this pile, the dirty abused pile that has been cast aside, deemed unworthy.  As I stare at this heap and flirt with the idea of delving into the middle of something else’s imperfections, the sun warmed copper seems to gain a pulse, a beat, a life of its own.  The beat fills my ears and keeps tempo with the beat of my heart and I know I’m going to die. 

            Sudden silence…..Blessed silence.  The darkness caresses me and makes me believe it loves me.  In the dark my imperfections disappear and I am almost invisibly whole.  My mind registers the foul smell of something rotting, reminding me of a coffin.  My coffin.  And then I am dead, weightless, floating and for once not scared of what’s next.  As I sink slowly into the mental quicksand that is my soul, I wonder……What about my family?  My brother? My sister?  What will they do with the outer shell of my being, my leftovers of a forgotten life?  Will my body remain on this old sofa and decompose next to an empty bottle of vodka?  Will anyone wonder what that rancid smell is and realize that it’s me?

             I can’t breath and I have to find a way out.  Pounding on my coffin screaming, and just like that I am awake……..My mouth is cottony and dry, the faint aftertaste of vodka remains leaving my head pounding and my heart racing.  The gorge of my youth rises, leaving me gagging, purging my sins onto the carpet, and i am empty, heaving a shell of wasted matter.  The party has waned, leaving only drunken, stumbling idiots looking for a place to pass out.  I realize that this is life and I’m nothing more than a little girl with scraggily hair and huge eyes.  My life is much like the soft fragile wings of a decomposed moth.

 

BA5?

The bottle semmed to tip of its own accord, as if my hand had a life of its own, bypassing my brain, nerves and will, feeding my body the poison.  Flashing through my mind, like the after effects of a coke damaged brain, fragments of my shattered childhood, fragments of my life like a broken mirror, no longer able to be put back together, spiraling out of control.

Churning and yearning down my throat with the tang of childhood pain and loss.  Refusing to go down………Refusing to be swollowed.  The battle between my mind and body almost made me stop…almost….Yet I knew it was expected of me, my right of passage if you will.  A test…a test to myself.  The flickering in my brain continues, like an underground railroad with bad electricity and sparks that threaten to ignite and spread! 

What went wrong?

Why won’t it go away?

  So again….My hand, holding the bottle of my beginning feeds me the elixir of happiness, sadness, anger and violence.  Suddenly I am gone.

Where I went, what I did, I do not know…

With flashes and sparks I arrive to the year 1990 and I was just a little girl of five.  A little girl with a bowl hair cut and huge hazel eyes.  To solemn and wise for my age….The sensation of falling and yet flying at the same time overcame me as I was scooped from the ground, and there he was…The consumer of the elixer itself. 

“Do you see the moths girl?  Do you see the moths?”  He whispers in my ear, his warm rancid breath sweet and sour with the smell of alcohol, and as I frantically search for the moths I know there will be no escape, no right answer.

“No” I whisper so soft he cant possibly hear, yet somehow does.

“Wrong answer” he whispers back….And once again I am falling and life is weighless, meaningless.  Flashes of childhood continue.

Warm sun streaming through the barn door.  The rays of the suns heat hitting the trailer home that we reside in, throwing the spears of light back into my face….My eyes…and I am blind.  Yet still my fingers small and dirty find the sandy peices of copper.  Copper that needs to be sorted and cleaned.  One pile high with the sheen of already clean copper and the other, a tangled mess of dirty rejected pieces of copper.  I relate to this pile. The dirty, messy, abused pile that has been cast aside.  As I stare at this pile the sun warmed pile seems to gain a pulse, a beat, a life of its own. 

Suddenly silence…..Blessed silence, and loving darkness that caresses me and loves me.  Where did I go?  Do I really care?  My mind registered the foul smell of something rotting, reminding me of a coffin.  My coffin.  And then I am dead, weightless, floating and for once not scared of whats next.  As I sink slowly into the mental quicksand that is my soul, I wonder……What about my family?  My brother? My sister?  What will they do with me?  My body that is…The outer shell of my being, my leftovers of a forgotten life.  Will my body remain on this old sofa and decompose next to an empty bottle of vodka?  Will anyone wonder what that rancid smell is and realize that its me?

Suddenly I can’t breath and I have to find a way out.  Pounding on the coffin screaming….And I am awake……..My mouth is cottony and dry, the faint aftertast of vodka remains leaving my head pounding and my heart racing.  The gorge of my youth rises, leaving me gagging, purging my sins into the toilet.  Leaving me empty and heaving.  A shell of wasted matter.  Not important, not worth anything, like the soft feathery wings of a decomposed moth.

Paper 1

Intro w/thesis 

 

The recent political election, which gave the American people their 45th president, has lead our nation into a new mindset.  President Obama is the first African American president of the United States and with his election new ideas are being born and old beliefs are being laid to rest.  This recent political activity is very simiar to the life changing movement of the 60′s involving Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.   Both King and Obama have brought this nation to new heights many of the ideas that these two revolutionalry men have had are very similar, our nation both in the 60′s and today has grown, and we have grown not only as a nation but also as individuals.

Both President Obama and Martin Luther King Jr believed in equal  rights for all.  King was in the middle of a revolutionary stage and played a pivotal role in gaining African American rights, similar to Obama today.
Obama in his speech discusses the anger that the black man feels, even today, despite the advances our society has made.  Obama discuses his former Reverend Wright who gave a sermon that was played on Fox news channel and possibly misinterpreted.  The news channel showed a short clip that shows Rev Wright shouting from the pulpit “God Damn America!”  After watching that short clip I was curious to see the rest of it.  The entire clip gives more justice to the point that the reverend was making that America has failed its people and that is why he will not bless a nation that has failed him, rather he damns this nation.  The anger that the black man feels toward America, as we see by the example of Rev Wright and many other black men, is the point that Obama was making and the point that King also frequently made in almost every one of his speeches.  King even states in his “I have a dream” speech that “America has given its Negro people a bad check, one marked insufficient funds.”  The way the African American man felt
back in the 60’s is very similar to the deep seated feeling of
minorities today!  Both King and Obama wanted to address the issue of
racism and conquer it. 

As a nation we have learned and grown from the example of these two men.  Obama was raised by his white grandparents yet had an African American father and a white mother.  Being married to an African
American woman and having African American children, and him himself
being a black man enables him to empathize with the plight of the black man.  He knows and understands about the deep seated anger that the minorities feel, he knows how the poor immigrants and the black teen living in the ghetto feel, and he knows and sympathizes with the issues of health care and poor living conditions.  Obama wants to focus on bigger issues then race, not the petty squabbles of the people but rather how to address and conquer health care issues, the economic
crisis, terrorism, and education issues just to name a few.  Once we can focus beyond race we can solve larger issues that affect everyone and better the nation as a whole.  Both King and Obama had the opinion that the issue of race isn’t going to be solved overnight, or that they are the sole reason for change but rather realized this was a gradual change and would evolve with time.  Similar to when King was alive he didn’t know that his grandchildren would see the first African American
president, he hoped, but he knew that eventually and hopefully in part to his contribution that the dream of equal rights to all would be a reality. 

We have had the benefit of enjoying equal rights for all that King helped to make a reality.  Without the civil rights movement who knows
what America would be like?  We certainly wouldn’t have a black
president right now and we wouldn’t be able to enjoy the freedoms that we currently have.

BA4: Writing Habits

Some people have no problem sitting down and allowing themselves expression in writing.  I on the other hand have difficulty even forming a coherent thought in my head, much less on paper for others to read.  I decided in order to become a better writer I must analyze my writing habits and figure out what I need to change in order to become a better writer.  

Who the hell decided we should write essays in college?  I was not included in this decision making process and clearly I should have been!  Since I wasnt consulted in this stupid decision I must learn how to play by the rules and abuse the hell out of them!  Learning how to be the best damn writer I can be will show them, and to learn how to do that I must learn how to write!  Analyzing my current half assed writing technics now will hopefully provide me with refined weapons for the future!

Thesis ideas- Since no one consulted me as to wether I wanted to write I need to learn how to BS the BSer!  Working on my writing skills will help me play their game and hopefully I will learn a thing or to along the way.  I need to study and analyze my current writing technics so that I can become a better writer, sharpin my analytical skills, and bring down the writing tyrant!

Typically when I begin the writing process I am pretty pissed that I even have to do a writing assignment!  It takes a while for me to clear the red from my vision and then I am free to sit at my computer and write.  Keep in mind this usually takes place about eight hours before my writing assignment is due, but this has nothing to do with my rebeling againts the class, just showing off my pracrastination skills!  Perhaps starting my writing assignments earlier enable me to have better, more concise, and thorough papers…….Maybe Ill allow myself ten hours instead of the normal eight…… Sitting in my room, after the red has faded of course, listening to music and thinking about what I am about to write is typically what I do before a paper.  Since I encourage any sort of lazzyness I am going to keep this step in my writing process!  In case you had’nt noticed my spelling is pretty bad!  Sorta like a nine year old with a helmet on!  My dictonary is my best friend I will have to utilize it more often!(dang….wish I had it now!) 

One way to sharpin my analytical form will be to be more prepared.  Allowing myself more time for research and sentence structuring will help my papers sound more intelligent (minus the stupid word mispells) and give me a better argument.  Once again not waiting eight hours before my paper is due will come in handy at this juncture! 

We have all heard the expression, “if you cant bet them join them”  and by working on my writing techniques that is exactly what I will be doing.  Those of you who decided that this was an awesome way to torment your students will be luled into a false sense of sucurity by my soothing words and sly mannarisms.  Just when your luled into sleep I will strike and take you by surprise, therefore rendereing you speechless and awestruck!

BA3

Bob Dylan’s songs centered toward equality and racism certainly helped bring about change in the 60′s.  Reading and listening to his lyrics has helped me to come to a better understanding of the mindset of both the black and the white man.  Bob Dylan being a white man and singing about the injustice of racism was a brave brave man!  The song “Only a pawn in their game” points out the white mans blind belief in their own superiority and how hate is taught from a young age.  The white man has no idea why he is supposed to hate African Americans therefore acting as an ignorant pawn.  The song “Blowing in the Wind” in contrast is more vague and almost poignant.  Bob Dylan mostly asks a series of questions almost as if in defeat making me wonder if he wrote this at the start of the movement or the end.  Both songs are discussing the issue of segregation and racism and the role everyone plays, but “Only a pawn in their game” seems to focus on the injustice of racism not the actions needed to change it. 

 

“Times are Changing” is a awesome song to discribe the black movement, the title says it all “times are changing”.  Bob Dylan asked all to acknowledge that things are not as they once were and to not be unyeilding and stuborn because no matter what things will be different.  Dylans song “Blowing in the Wind” on the other hand is not as clear that things are changing rather leaving it up to chance and saying “it is blowing in the wind”, leaving me to wonder if he was really confident in change for the better.  Both songs state change is inevitable, but it sounds like it is simply a matter of when. 

 

The song “Oxford Town” is about the events that happen in Oxford Town, tear gas and murder and the fear that the people have to live through every day.  A solution to the problems is not suggested however Bob Dylan does ask his “friend”, the listener, what he thinks about the issues?  Perhaphs Dylan was leaving it up to the audience to determine the inequalities and come to their own conclusions as  to a solution.  The song “Blowing in the Wind” is also addressed to his “friend” the listener asking a series of questions and stating that all is blowing in the wind and things will change as soon as more people realize the problem.  Out of all the songs I think these two are the most similar.

BA2

Based on the comments that others gave me about my first blog I have come to a few of my own conclusions about my own writing voice.  As a writer I have problems with punctuation, spelling and organization which can make me appear ignorant or young.  When I start writing ideas tend to flow at a rapid rate and as im typing them down they tend to get very jumbled and confusing.  I think if I take the time to slow down and think about what im writing this will improve my thought process and help my reader follow along.   One thing I noticed about my writing is I tend to write the way I speak, often with little to no punctuation.  Remembering the awesome grammer and punctuation rules I have been taught will be important!  Since I do own a dictionary, and use it quite a bit, I think I might have to start bringing it with me wherever I go and double even triple check my work.  Most of the comments on my first blog were very generic things like, “very creative, nice imagination” and my favorite “great job!”.  If my writing was so unremarkable that it didn’t solicite many responses that must mean it wasn’t to horrible…..Right?…..