This Blog's Analysis is the Man

So this is it, the final required post of Gotta Love Writing 150. It has been a struggle at times to keep posts coming, and at other times it has been really easy, as is to be expected. Looking back some things that I really liked about this blog are its audience and direction. This blog has been focused, for the most part, on writing, persuasion, and so forth. Its kind of refreshing to put a blog out there that isn't about some young couple and their 2 toddlers that only has one post (type [common name]and[common name of other gender].blogspot.com into your url as proof). Instead I was able to write a blog with a specific theme that not very many blogs focus on. I loved writing for an audience of peers. Having fellow classmates as my followers allowed me to be less formal and more honest and more like I am in person.

I chose the background and color scheme intentionally. The books give an immediate impression as to what this blog's focus will be. The colors, on the other hand, help to lessen the expectation that this will be a formal, dull English blog. I included a picture every week or 2 to entertain and to tie in some of my interests and humor without a visitor needing to read anything.

I wish that I had more posts that were just composed of my free creative writing. More posts like my Narrative (Pep Fujas is the Man) would distinguish this blog from most any others. I think that this will be how I will use this blog from here on out. As I've mentioned before, I really liked what I have written for my Narrative and I have some other short story ideas that I've always been meaning to write. If/when I get around to writing them I'll post them on here, but with a different audience in mind. I will no longer be writing for my peers, but just for myself and for anyone who accidentally finds themselves here. I don't expect anyone to read it, so I'll just do it for my own benefit.

Overall, I have enjoyed writing on this blog, and plan to continue to do so, although far less frequently.

Thanks to Sister Steadman (or Sister Steadman is the Man)

I wanted to thank Sister Steadman for the great writing semester. I enjoyed this writing class more than any other one I've taken. I didn't really like to write, especially on prompts. But I'm glad we had a lot more freedom on what we could write about, even when they were specific prompts. For example, we had a lot of requirements on our research project, but were still able to choose whatever argument we wanted, on whatever topic we wanted. The same freedom came with the narrative.

With this freedom, I learned a ton more than I would have otherwise. I really enjoyed all of our class periods too. That's saying something too, because writing classes have a tendency to be really dull. But I kind of looked forward to this Writing 150 class, except when my research paper was due... So once again, as my final post on this blog, I wanted to thank Sister Steadman for putting so much effort into our classes and teaching us. Thanks!

Other Writing Ideas are the Man

So I had a lot of fun writing my narrative and I've been thinking that I might enjoy writing stories, just for fun. I'm not interested in becoming an author like my Mom is, but I still really like writing creative stories. I think it would be really fun to write thrillers or action, instead of just personal narratives. So here are some things that I want to write about.

Idea one: I've heard that when we vocalize our thoughts in our head, we are measuring micro-vibrations created by our larynx. Whether or not this is true, I've never been able to find evidence of. Regardless for my story idea, I'm going to assume that it is possible. I thought it would be really interesting to write a story about a way of measuring those vibrations to, effectively, read somebody's mind. I haven't really decided where exactly to go with that. I've thought about having government develop it, and then use of it leaks and huge ethical issues arise from the population. But making the government the bad guys seems overdone. So maybe I'll go back to making the Russians the bad guys, just kidding.

Idea two: Also somewhere in the future, when children are born they can be electronically wired if the parents want. What that does is allow them to download information directly from the internet. Then everyone who isn't wired, becomes a lower class. I guess I just have to make sure I'm not writing a Gattaca (which I do love. P.S. that picture of it is really cool). I think it would be cool to have characters that had access to endless amounts of information. It would sure take a heck of a lot of research to make any of the dialogue believable though.

So those are two ideas I've been playing with. I probably won't ever do anything with them. But then again, I guess I could... I'm not coming back here next semester after all, so why not?

Urijah is the Man

So one of my biggest inspirations for my own attempts at writing in this class is my Mom. My Mom has written a book called Behind the Mist, which is part of the Mist trilogy that she is still working on. Well Behind the mist was just released and it is pretty awesome! Its fun mostly because I am the main character and that's pretty awesome.

The story is about how noble horses become unicorns in the next life. They are the leaders of animal heaven, Celestia. They also bring animals from this Earth to Celestia. When Nick and Jazz (his horse) fall off of a cliff, they are brought together to Celestia because Jazz refuses to leave Nick. Afterward, Nick is introduced to unicorns and learns that he is the second human to be brought across the mist. The other human, however, lives with the evil unicorn, Hasbadana.

Its a great story and is well written. My family is particularly proud of my Mom's accomplishment. this makes her 3rd book, but first fiction work! If you want to check it out this is the website: http://www.behindthemist.com/ and she has a blog at: http://www.themisttrilogy.blogspot.com/

Jay Evans is the Man

So my brother and I decided it would be a good idea to leave SLC for LA at midnight last night and drive through the night. Sure enough, we stayed up all night until about 10 am, or 9 am local time. I'm pretty beat but its fun to see the relatives and my new nephew who we came for his baby blessing. He's pretty adorable, even though I'm so tired he's fuzzy. So Jay Evans has earned the title of the Man because he powered through it and drove for 8 1/2 of our 10 hour trip. Well done Jay!
Anyways, there we are. My family on the left side of the baby, and Paige's on the right. The whole weekend was really fun. I loved being there to support my brothers and to meet my new nephew!

My Reflection on my Narrative is the Man

To begin with, I had so much fun writing that beast. I realize now it was way too long so, to Sis Steadman, I'm sorry ahead of time! Or rather, behind time! I wrote 3 pages, I just didn't double space them. I'm sort of writing another essay that I guess I confused with this one. Oh well, its too late to take anything out now. I like what I have.

Anyways, I really enjoyed writing this paper because it let me be completely creative without the restrictions that the other styles of writing tend to present. I hated having to write about the things I researched. Even though I learned a lot, it didn't feel like I was writing. It felt more like I was just linking together what other people had figured out. It wasn't really writing so much as explaining or summarizing.

Then after trudging through that misery I was able to do whatever I wanted! That was awesome! I loved being able to make my own symbols, go in my own direction and not worry about what the next quote I needed to include was. With all this freedom I did write my paper I'm the most nervous about. It was much more out of my comfort zone. I've never used symbols before, or tried to communicate a difficult message without saying it.

I guess just to explain, how I grew was that I learned to appreciate life. I didn't really know how important it was to me until I came so close to losing it. Its amazing how often that happens.

My Narrative (or Pep Fujas is the Man)

It’s freezing cold and I’m dizzy. My eyes are closed and have been for some time, but I know I'm not in my bed. I become aware of my body without the assistance of my eyes, who seem to fight me every time I try to force them open. I lift my arm to feel my surroundings; as soon as I do, pain shoots through my back. It’s an icy, deep pain. The kind of pain that signals to the mind that the body has acquired more serious damage than just a cut or a bruise. I determine that I should avoid moving as much as possible. I then notice that I’m sitting up against something, something big, hard, and round, with my head fallen against my right shoulder. Through my frozen nostrils, the crisp air carries the scent of pine. Cold presses itself against my cheeks. I love low temperatures; they make the whole world seem so clean. No, not just clean, cool weather simply seems more honest than its replacement in the summer, offering me a clearer mind through its serenity. Heat, on the other hand, seems to fog my thinking and steal away all of my energy. Dropping my hand to my side, I feel it sink into the earth. On second thought, it can’t be earth, it’s too soft. Not to mention that I wouldn't be wearing gloves, it must be snow. Suddenly, I know where I am without having to open my eyes: Winter Park ski resort.

I can remember the whole day. I only have trouble reorienting myself as to exactly where I am; however, it's not like after a concussion, more like knowing where I am is unimportant. Therefore, I am unable to figure out what has happened in the last few minutes. With a significant amount of effort, I finally open my eyes. Even through the tinted lenses of my goggles, the light forces me to squint, but I can still see enough to confirm my theory. I am at Winter Park resort, or more specifically, the mountain next to Winter Park, named Mary Jane. These mountains have always brought me an escape from the rest of my life and an opportunity to focus solely on something I loved, which made me feel much more alive. The pure white snow covers the branches in all the trees surrounding me, while the snow on the ground is untouched, save for my two trails etched into the pristine powder. They don’t appear to be as perfectly parallel as they usually do, I must have panicked and my form suffered. I’m not on a patrolled ski run, they’re too crowded, and I don’t need people getting in the way. Instead, I find myself in the middle of the woods. This news is of little concern, finding my way out shouldn’t be any trouble at all; if I go down long enough I’ll find another trail.

I finally venture a glance down at myself, an ordeal I knew I would have to go through eventually. I know I won’t like what I see, but it has to be done. I still have one ski on my left foot, but the right foot has been released from its binding. Tentatively, I raise my right ski pole to release my left boot from its binding. The silver metal is perfectly straight until about half the distance to the spiked end when it takes an unwelcome, yet committed left turn, cracking the paint on the opposite side. This isn’t the first time I’ve ruined a pole, but it always is a little disappointing knowing that I’ll have to go buy a new one again. I abandon my attempt, frustrated by the additional difficulty of trying to pop out of my bindings without a straight pole, and look to my right to find my missing ski. The snow seems so undisturbed; I can’t imagine the ski could be hidden beneath. My back is against a large pine tree that has seemed to clear away the lower branches so that I would have a place to sit. I’m guessing that it didn’t make the room willingly. Then it dawns on me, I’m facing uphill.

With this new realization I take a quick turn to my left. I catch my breath as the pain rushes over me again. This time, there seems to be a deep bruise on my right thigh echoing the pain so that my lower body could be included. I pinch my eyes closed until the pain releases me and then open my eyes to scan the area to my left. There’s a lot more to see on that side. The snow has been torn up and there is no pattern to the trail cutting through the snow. A thin tree, the trunk only 3 inches in diameter, has collapsed into the trail. My usual perfectly parallel ski tracks are so elegant compared to this ruin. The fallen tree in the middle of the trail must be newer than the tracks, because they continue underneath the thin trunk.

The tree jogs my memory of the crash. I recognize it and close my eyes to review the images in my mind.

I saw Russell’s black hoodie disappear into the dense green woods. This is a common sight, and I followed him into the darkness. This is where we find true thrills. We have skied so much that the cleared public runs no longer present a challenge to us. The trees, on the other hand, require quicker reflexes and tighter turning, but offer a greater adrenaline rush. It was much more dangerous, but the feeling of the fresh snow rushing against me was irreplaceable. I broke off from Russell’s trail I had been following, and begin to find my own way through the forest. As my speed increased, so did my excitement. I was certain that this will lead to a situation that will keep me on my toes. Sure enough, as I soon as I asked, the mountain offered. The trees forced me into a quick right turn followed by an immediate left. Unable to slow down, I tore through the right turn and forced my skis below me into the air to spin to a left turn. With my speed, this was not going to be enough.

I twisted my hips hard to turn the skis because the edges were not enough, hoping this might do the job. Then I noticed my right ski was on the wrong side of one of the smaller trees. I started to gasp, but I didn’t have the time to complete it before my leg made contact. With a deafening crack, the tree trunk snapped and I was spinning, reaching out to find something on which to focus. My eyes caught onto a tree with a sickly scar running vertically down its trunk, and I was able to orient myself towards it. With another twinge of terror, I realized that I was moving backwards. I turned my head to spot my nearest obstacle. Unlike the tree that had broken, the one quickly approaching me was a fully grown adult, and would not give way so easily. I had no time to react, even if I did I only had one ski still attached, and I slammed into the trunk, crumpling into a small ball at its feet.

Opening my eyes, I laugh bitterly as hind sight passes the test with flying colors again, it earned its twenty-twenty rating. That was too close. Too many people have been killed skiing into trees, and currently I’m not doing so well either. Were I just able to stay with Russell I would be fine. Of course, Russell! My mind latches onto the thought of my possible rescuer. Perhaps if he can just find me then he can help me stand, and from there I may be able to make it down to the base of the mountain. But where is he?

My eyes start to fight me with a renewed effort to stay closed. There seems to be no reason to continue to deny them their will. A little rest should give me the energy that I need to continue skiing for the rest of the day, not that I can do anything else anyways.

* * *

Someone calls my name. I ignore it, they can wait. The voice repeats my name, this time closer. Why can’t he just leave me alone for a little bit longer? I jump as something pokes me pretty hard in the arm. I jolt awake and look to see Russell’s panicked face, ignoring my back's discontentment with my sudden movement.

“What?”

“I thought you were dead!” Russell’s frame releases its tension somewhat. “I turned this corner and saw all this mess and saw you not moving against a tree! I thought I was gonna have to go home and tell your Mom that you died! That would bite!”

“Oh yeah, I found myself . . . Hey, what the heck took you so long?” I exclaim.

“I had a pretty good fall back up there a little while ago. I fell into some powder, but there was a rock beneath the top layer and I hit my head pretty good against it.” I notice for the first time that there is a new crack through his goggles. I always ski with a helmet, but Russell never does. He always has on a somewhat thick hat which leaves his head exposed to an injury like the one he had just experienced, or worse. Russell’s black hoodie still holds clumps of snow, and is slightly darker where the snow has melted.

“Are you ok?”

“I think I was unconscious for a little while, but I’ll be fine. Let’s go man, quit messing around,” Russell says, clearly eager to keep skiing.

“I can’t move. I tried to get up a little while ago. Give me a hand.” Russell reaches out and I grab it. He pulls me up quickly, but not very gently. Immediately I think I’m going to fall back against the tree. My eyes lose their focus as the anguish clouds up my vision, and my right leg struggles to hold my weight. “I lost my ski to your right, can you grab it.” As he does, I feel the need to fill the silence, which is so rare between us. “A lot of good the buddy system did us,” I say. “There should probably be a footnote explaining that this system only works if at least one of the two of you is fully functional.” We laugh for a little while, making light of the situation we found ourselves in, and the one we narrowly avoided. Russell hands me the ski and helps me pop myself in.

Once I’m again bound to my skis, Russell lets me go and skis off slowly ahead of me as I try to control myself while maneuvering through the trees. At first the pain is overwhelming, but as a smile returns to my face, I am able to tune out the blaring pain echoing through my body. I am able to ski to the bottom of the mountain, uncomfortably, but successfully.

Upon reaching the ski patrol at the bottom of the mountain, I wait for the next available nurse, thinking back on my day. I’m not sure why it excited me so much to be put in a dangerous setting. Now as the pain begins to return it begins to truly set in how lucky I was. The thought of how close I was to death scares me. It’s an irrational fear, sure, but it is real. The fear of the unknown, or rather the fear of what could have been, is harder to conquer than something tangible because I can’t escape the fictional situations that my mind can create.

With the fear present, I can't help but question my decisions. What led me to think that pushing my luck was a good idea? Did I care for my life at all? What was I trying to prove? I may already know the answers to my questions, but I don’t like the way that they sound, so I continue to probe with rephrased queries until the nurse shepherds me into the doctor’s office where they begin to poke me trying to find where it hurts. An easy task since everywhere they try hurts. Everywhere except my head. Fortunately I wear that helmet every time I ski, even if it is mostly to humor my parents, because this is the first time that the helmet has truly protected me, has kept me alive. I've never been so grateful for my helmet, or so grateful to be alive at all.

* * *

It has been a little over a month since I fractured a low vertebra in my spine and I am finally able to return to the mountain. I avoid skiing in the trees, whether out of fear or because I have become a smarter skier, I can’t tell.

Simon Dumont is the Man

It’s freezing cold. That’s not all either, there’s something else different from normal, I’m dizzy. I explore around myself without opening my eyes, which seem to fight me every time I try to open them. As soon as my arm moves, pain shoots through my back. An icy, deep pain. I can’t imagine that’s good news. Well, I guess I should avoid moving as much as possible. I realize I’m sitting up against something, something hard and round, with my head leaning against my right shoulder. The crisp air gives the scent of pine. The cool temperature makes the whole world seem so clean and makes me aware. Suddenly I know where I am without having to open my eyes, Winter Park ski resort.

I can remember the whole day. I had trouble reorienting myself to where I was, not quite like a concussion, more like the memory of where I am isn’t important. I can’t seem figure out what has happened in the last few minutes though. With an amount of effort, I finally open my eyes. The mountain has always brought me an escape from the rest of my life and the opportunity to focus on something I loved. The white snow covering the branches in all the trees surrounding me, while the snow around me seems untouched save for my two trails etched into the pristine powder. I’m not on a run, they’re too crowded, and I don’t need people getting in the way. Instead, I find myself in the middle of the woods. Finding my way out shouldn’t be any trouble, if I go down long enough I’ll find something.

I finally venture a glance down at myself, an ordeal I knew I would have to go through eventually. I knew I wouldn’t like what I saw, but it had to be done eventually. I still have one ski on my left foot, but the right foot has been released. Tentatively, I raise my ski pole to release my left foot from the ski binding. The silver pole is straight until about half the distance where it takes a committed left turn, cracking the paint on the opposite side. This isn’t the first time I’ve ruined a pole, but it is always a little disappointing knowing that I’ll have to go buy a new one again. I abandon my attempt and look to my right to find my ski. The snow seems so undisturbed; I can’t imagine the ski could be hidden beneath. Then it dawns on me, I’m facing uphill. My back is against a large pine tree that has seemed to clear the lower branches so I had room to sit. I’m guessing that it didn’t make room willingly.

With this new realization I take a quick turn to my left. I choke on my breath, the pain rushes over me again. This time, there seems to be a deep bruise on my right thigh echoing the pain. I pinch my eyes closed until the pain releases me and then open my eyes to scan my left side. There’s a lot more to see this time. The snow has been torn up and there is no pattern to the trail cuts through the snow. A thin tree, the trunk only being 3 inches in diameter, has collapsed into the trail. My parallel ski tracks are so elegant compared to this ruin. The fallen tree in the middle of the trail must be newer than the tracks, because they continue underneath the thin trunk.

The memory of the crash is finally available to me. I recognize it and close my eyes to review the images in my head.

I saw Russell’s blue jacket disappear into the dense green woods. It is a common sight, and I follow him into the darkness. This is a true challenge. We have skied so much that the runs offer no more challenges to us. The trees, on the other hand, require quicker reflexes and tighter turning, but offer a greater adrenaline rush. It was much more dangerous, but the feel of the fresh snow was irreplaceable. I break off from Russell’s trail I had been following and begin to find my own way through the forest. As my speed increases, so does my excitement. This will surely lead to a situation that will keep me on my toes. Sure enough, as I ask, the mountain offers. The trees spread forcing a quick right turn followed by an immediate left. I tear through the right turn and force my skis below me into the air to spin to a left turn. With my speed, this is not going to be enough.

I throw my hips to turn the skis because the edges are not enough, this might do the job. Then I notice that my right ski is on the wrong side of one of the smaller trees.

Well that's what I have so far. Its a draft... but its not done. It will be soon though. Its been really fun to write so maybe I'll write another and decide which is better.

PS. Simon Dumont is my favorite skier. Therefore, he is the Man.

I am the Man

AWWWW Yeah! Gotta admit, I've been wanting to say that I was the Man since I started this blog! Finally, since this whole blog is about me, I get to be! I guess I could have chosen somebody random to be the Man like I have in the past (note: Man is always capitalized...) but, I wanna be the Man just once.

So I'm writing this post to pitch some of the ideas that I'm throwing around for what my personal narrative should be about. Here they are:

1) The day I separated my shoulder and had a concussion. I was biking and flipped over my handlebars. I was thinking that I could do something kinda like the Bourne series. When I woke up I had no idea what was going on, where I was, or how I got there. I think it would be really fun to write, it just might be a little less original... (Thanks a lot Robert Ludlum [is not the man]).

What I Learned: I learned not to care so much about what people think. Or rather, not try so hard to impress people by doing dumb stuff.

2) I broke a vertebra one day skiing. I was with a buddy, who had fallen and hit his head against a rock so was unconscious above me. Meanwhile i hit a tree. I could talk a lot about the alternation of desperation for help and an attempt to stay calm.

What I Learned: How to handle difficult situations. When my help finally got there he panicked and was pretty useless.

Well this shows that my greatest teacher is pain. Its pretty clear. I do so many dumb things that end up hurting me but I can say I've learned a lot from it. Mostly how to recognize a bad idea... but not necessarily how to keep myself from continuing on and doing it anyways.

The Doctor is the Man

Alright, part 2 of my analysis of television. I'm actually not totally sure what exactly is expected in this blog so, I've decided to just write about what's been of interest to me and try to somehow tie it in. So I've spent way too many hours watching Dr. Who this year. I mean it too, way too many. I've finished 3 1/2 full seasons of it! I didn't even start til mid-October. Yesterday alone I watched 4 episodes. That's when it dawned on me, how does it keep my attention?! On top of that, how has it kept an audience since 1963?! That's quite the accomplishment, especially because most of the plots are recycled!

Yep, there he is. The 11th actor to portray the Doctor, along with his most recent companion, Amy Pond.

Anyways , what's amazing is how it holds my attention so well. In fact, while writing this, I really want to go watch an episode! So here's what I've discovered, the way that it works is through familiarity and difference. That doesn't make much sense yet, I know, I'll get to it a little bit later.

So lets begin with the familiarity bit. Every episode is pretty much the same: The doctor ends up somewhere, usually Great Britain, that a species of Aliens is trying to kill all the humans so that they can populate there since their home planet has been destroyed. There you go! You know know the basics to every episode of Doctor Who. So what can keep your attention? The characters! The companions change throughout the seasons, and each act differently. On top of that, Doctor Who has done something very smart in allowing the Doctor to change appearances and characters (when the actor changes) which creates a new Doctor with brand new traits and ways of solving problems. As much as I loved David Tennant playing the Doctor, having a change to Matt Smith (pictured above) is very refreshing. Although the plots are the same, the characters (especially the Doctor) are able to attract the audience.

Speaking of the characters, the Doctor is what provides the difference from most of the rest of TV. Most heroes who never resort to violence to solve problems are outgrown. Doctor Who, however, is geared for an older audience. In fact, one of my favorite descriptions of the show is: "The TV show that everyone in Britain grew up watching from behind the couch." Its nice to have a deeper show that has a protagonist that is just clever instead of violent.

Another technique used is, of course, leaving the endings hanging. This isn't unique to Doctor Who, but its used as well.

Well I do recommend this TV show to anyone who likes Sci-fi. It's a little lighter than Star Trek, but still a lot of fun.

Heinz Doofenshmirtz is the man

"There's a platypus controlling me he's underneath the table." - Doofenshmirtz

"Oh I get it! Platypus is a metaphor for whatever's keeping you down!
Like corporations are a platypus!
The government's a platypus!
Your teacher is a platypus!
My teacher is a panda...
Society's a platypus!

My parents are a platypus!

The media's a platypus, it's all just propaganda!" -Crowd members

So who isn't ashamed to say that they love Phineas and Ferb? Come on, you know that it is great! There are so many bad cartoons out, and yet at the same time, there is one that might even surpass what Doug was for me! It might be a kids show, but there is so much that kids will never get. Allusions to all sorts of older TV shows, or movies. One of my personal favorites is the allusion to Citizen Kane in the episode featuring the Lake Nose Monster. At one point, one of the characters is choking (or something to that effect) and drops a snow globe while exclaiming, "Nosebud!" Which, of course, if you have seen Citizen Kane, is reference to "Rose Bud," but in case you haven't seen it, that's all I'm going to say. It would kill the whole story if I did.

I want to rhetorically analyze Phineas and Ferb today. And to do so, I guess I'll just have to watch an episode of the show... OK! Lets see, Provo TV guide.... Next episodes are at 3 and 3:30. Fantastic. I think I can manage to make that. And I guess I should actually write my paper when I get home... That is due tomorrow after all. ALRIGHT, UNTIL AFTER PHINEAS AND FERB, I BID YOU FAREWELL!

Hey everyone. I just watched me some Phineas and Ferb, which I found fascinating. I love the show, but didn't really pay much attention as to what it is teaching kids! In one of my favorite episodes, Stacy and Jeremy's friend, Cold Train, meet. This is awesome dating advice! Candace suggests crazy solutions to handle Stacy's feelings like hiding, pretending they are trees, and things of that nature. Stacy just suggests walking up and talking to him, then this conversation happens:

"Hi, I like your hair." - Stacy
"I like your bow, want me to show you around?" - Cold Train
"Yeah."

How often do we over complicate the simple things in our life. Phineas and Ferb teach this through the juxtaposition of Candace, the one who does over complicate everything, and Stacy, who takes the simple path. Although both may lead to the same desired result, Stacy's approach is easier and more rewarding. This is ingenious because, although the audience of the show (besides myself and my roommates) may not be dating, it can set a base for how dating can be approached. It is also not the main plot of the show and therefore, is less of the focus.

So, in other words, watch more Phineas and Ferb and see what you can find.

Ed Jovanovski is the Man

Ed Jovanovski earned the honor of being included in my title this week because he scored 15 points for my fantasy hockey team, The Jolly Rogers. Recording the first hat trick for a defense-man in the Phoenix franchise is deserving of any honor I can get him. Not to mention putting me that much further ahead of my siblings.
Anyways, I have gotten a lot of good facts down, that I didn't make up! I spent a few hours earlier today just reading through my exciting sources, and my incredibly dull ones, underlining some things that should come in handy for my paper. Turns out that only one or two of my sources agree with me. Most of the others don't really touch my topic and just assume that the music and the lyrics are equally important. I personally don't think the lyrics have anywhere close to the same influence. For example, Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind. First 10 times you listen to it you have no idea that its all about drugs. Its so catchy and happy how could it be such a depressing song?!

Anyways, a cool article I'm using is about vibroacoustic experiments on mentally handicapped persons with violent or self-destructive behavior. In case you don't know what vibroacoustic means, its more that just music. By listening to music and accentuating the low vibrations through a chair, you can truly feel the music (or low vibrations). They exposed the participants for a few weeks and measured whether the music had any influence on their aggression; which of course it does. That's all for now!

Tune in next time for: "Heinz Doofenshmirtz is the man"

Randall Munroe is the Man

So on goes my research project. I completely forgot to write a thesis, but hey, at least I wrote my annotated bibliography. It actually didn't take way too long. I went to the HBLL expecting to be there for a few days when after about an hour or so I realized, "Wow, I'm pretty much done." It was a nice realization... The thesis would have been pretty easy. I just didn't know I was supposed to do it. Oh well, I lost a few points but that's fine.

EXAMPLE THESIS: Although most of research done claims that the lyrics in aggressive music are detrimental to listeners, the true influence comes from behind the lyrics through the rhythm, loudness, and tempo.

So that's kind of a decent thesis. I hate the word loudness though, it just doesn't sound real to me, somewhat like 'funner' (which my spell-check does not seem to mind either).

Also, My pumpkin this year was awesome:

Peter Jackson is the Man

Alright so its official! The Hobbit is finally going to be made! Peter Jackson is coming back to head the project! So excited! It's planned to be released in two parts. There can never be enough Lord of the Rings! There have been so many set backs that I didn't think there was any way that New Line was ever going to get around to it.I'm so glad they finally did though!

Okay so this is a fake. But its about as good as you can probably find. I'm pretty impressed by it actually.

So the real reason I'm writing this post is to confirm my topic for the research essay. I've decided that I'm going to research whether non-lyrical music can lead to aggression. Or if it does the opposite. There is a lot of research saying that music doesn't do very much by itself, but that those who are aggressive tend to search out and listen to aggressive music. That makes sense but I can't help but think that angry in = angry out. We'll see I guess.

Research is the Man

For my post, I've come up with a few topics that I like involving sound. I'm a musician, or at least I like to think so, and sound and music fascinate me. If there's anything that's going to catch my interest enough to write a paper on it, it would be sound/music/recording. Here are a few ideas I'm throwing around, the last three I've narrowed it down to anyways.

I'd like to look into what effect sound makes on the human mind. In particular whether violent songs lead to violence or how they interact. The same for promiscuous songs and vulgar songs. Then I hope to contrast it to classical music, or uplifting music. I think that then you could take it and see if the media that we listen to should be monitored, or limited or something along those lines.

I've also been looking into how sound effects inanimate objects. For example my piano teacher would great his water by saying, "hello water" and the tone in his voice would organize the usual chaos in the water. I would like to look into whether that actually transfers to our body. Also I have heard that the planets all vibrate in Octaves from each other. But I don't have a clue how that could tie into Mass Media.

My third research idea is looking into how the larynx interacts with the voice we hear in our mind. I've heard that the voice is actually just micro-vibrations. I would find that interesting. Once again though, it would be tough to make it completely relate.

So I may not have a specific topic completely picked, but I'm leaning mostly towards my first idea. If you have opinions I would love to hear them. I'm not sure if any will be easy to necessarily argue because there isn't a lot of arguing going on about any of those. Or at least I don't know what the arguments are yet.

Elder Patrick Kearon is the Man

Who's the man today you ask? If you either read the title, or guessed Elder Patrick Kearon, you win! I didn't really know who this guy was before priesthood session but I just loved his talk. Competed for my favorite of the session against Elder Uctdorf's Pride talk. He's a member of the first quorum of the 70, and showed that he's a great speaker. Oh right! The well developed paragraph!

During Preisthood session of General Conference, Elder Patrick Kearon gave a talk to an audience of specifically male Christians. Elder Kearon spoke of choices that we know are wrong, but out of either laziness or rebelliousness, choose to do. He was speaking to a very specific audience with this lesson and because of this, makes some very specific choices to make sure that the audience he was speaking to was addressed. Kearon began his talk with a story of a camping trip which he traveled on with his family. As he was addressing an audience of men, most could easily picture a camping trip and were able to connect with him. After a simple, yet effective, exposition he proceeds to tell the purpose of his story: when he failed to listen to his parents and put on shoes, he was hurt very badly. Men are notorious for getting hurt out of laziness or carelessness. When Elder Kearon brings up his own situation, it brings forth our own similar experiences in which we learned to listen to the wisdom of our parents. With such a specific audience of males, Elder Kearon is able to quickly connect with his audience through his story. By recognizing the specific audience and situation in which he is speaking, Elder Kearon writes an effective and powerful talk.

Well there we go. There's my rhetorical analysis.... Whew... Looks really long from all the way down here. I doubt its even a page double spaced on Microsoft Word though... This will probably double as my essay that I turn in one of these days. In fact, I intend it too! I'll just edit it a little and maybe make it two paragraphs, but otherwise it looks pretty decent.

Winston Churchill is the Man

So for my project I chose to do Winston Churchill's timeless classic speech, "Never Give In." Its considerably shorter than I expected, only being a little over a page and a half. I sure hope that's enough! He does do some pretty cool stuff throughout the speech that I've noticed. What stood out the most was his repetition. He repeats his themes over and over again to prove his point. For example, if you read it and look for words like 'learn,' 'teaches us,' etc, you'll see what I mean.
Yep. There's the man of the week/this blog-post! Peace to you too Winston Churchill! I also was able to learn a lot of the background to the speech. I didn't know that he was speaking to a school, or that they had written a song in his honour (the 'u' is intentional) right before he gave this speech. Historical references are fascinating!

So we'll see how my paper goes. I'm gonna do a big-ol'-chunk-o-writing it tonight. So far I'm probably behind, I've got it pretty well planned but I only have like a sentence of it done. It should be fun!

(http://johnault.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/winston-churchill.jpg)

Matt Costa is the Man

For the life of me I can't think of anything all that English related of late. Obviously, I'm nervous about how my group and I did on the Restaurant Review essay, but other than that there isn't very much to say about Writing 150. Except to brag that our group won the "Get as many points as you can" game. Aw yeah! Go team! This whole weekend was spent drawing and other random stuff. One of which was World of Dance. that was pretty awesome actually! I would definitely recommend it to anyone, its too bad that it's over though.

So today I was able to learn Astair by Matt Costa on guitar. Pretty awesome song, but it turns out that its really hard. Well it will give me something challenging to work on. Speaking of which I would highly recommend Matt Costa, great musician. And Astair, which is great, isn't even my favorite by him!

There's something I can write about! Lyrics in songs! Music is so focused on emotional connection so the lyrics have to be Pathos-driven. I kind of have a fascination with song writing, especially with choosing lyrics. And I have a great respect for those who can become truly extra-ordinary in a time when the simplistic and unoriginal tends to rule the air waves (95.7 - the Party, I'm talking to you) and bring in the money. Lyrics are such a temperamental art, as I've discovered in my own attempts at songwriting. Every word has a different inflection. That is, each word has a different pattern of emphasis or intonation that effect how well they work with a melody. If they don't perfectly fit they sound funny, and almost anyone can pick them out. Therefore, the melody relies on the lyrics, and the lyrics upon the melody. A couple songs that really stick out to me as examples of quality song writing (emphasis on they lyrics and how emotionally powerful they are) are below:

Blue October - Hate Me

Such incredible lyrics. As far as I'm aware its partly about his mother and ex-girlfriend. I love the Bridge especially.

"And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street
For every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry
And I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling, "Make it go away!"
Just make a smile come back and shine, just like it used to be
And then she whispered: 'How can you did this to me?'"

So powerful! The break in the music after the final words of the Bridge (admiring sigh). Careful of the swear word in the second verse though.

Nine Inch Nails - Hurt

So I'm aware that this song also has some stronger language. I think Johnny Cash's cover of this song has less swearing, but I don't think it communicates the feeling of the song as well. Listening to this song actually hurts, which makes it so amazing!

"Beneath the stains of time,
The feelings disappear.
You are someone else,
I am still right here."

The Airborne Toxic Event - Sometime around Midnight

Great song. I think pretty much everyone on Earth can connect to the feeling of this song.

"But you know, that she’s watching.
She’s laughing, she’s turning.
She’s holding her tonic like a cross.
The room’s suddenly spinning.
She walks up and asks how you are."

Jay Brannan - Beautifully

My roommate showed me this song this weekend. I think its great! Different look at a typical love song.

"It's not that you're not beautiful, you're just not beautiful to me
She said, how beautiful do I have to be?
When I look in the mirror, you're the only thing I see
And I have loved you beautifully"

Emery
I really really like this band and they have some of the strongest lyrics of most bands I've heard. But its one a lot of people probably won't like as much as I do. The song these lyrics are from is called, "After the Devil Beats his wife" (Sounds a lot worse than it is), But if you wanted to hear some of my favorites by them I'd start with: Studying Politics, In a win, win situation, Ponytail Parade, The Party Song, and so forth.

"I decided long ago
Never let your loved ones know
Who you really are, who you really are
People want the truth but never want the scars"

Yesterday - The Beatles
You didn't think I would actually forget the Beatles, did you? Yesterday is only the single most frequently recorded song of our time! Incredibly well written and composed. The way the melody moves with the words is beautiful. And how it communicates the feelings of Paul McCartney. Its a good thing... I'm struggling not to post the entire song...

"Suddenly,
I'm not half the man I used to be,
There's a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, yesterday came suddenly."

Well that's it. I tried to focus a little more on songs I like specifically for the lyrics because this is a Writing 150 blog but... I may have been stretching it a little bit. Oh well. I had fun writing it.

http://www.torontomusicscene.ca/live-show-reviews/virgin-fest-2007-a-weekend-in-review-saturday.html

Cargo is the Man

Bad news everyone, the Rockies finally lost. After going 10 games straight, they lost to the San Diego Padres last night. But on the bright side, they're the hottest team in Baseball right now. I know that this has nothing to do with Writing, but every team I root for lost this weekend... Except the Rockies. It was nice to go visit my brother up north of SLC, but we also had to watch as BYU lost to Air Force, FSU lost to Oklahoma (Don't worry, I'm rooting for BYU in the game this weekend), and the Denver Broncos lost to Jacksonville! Just as we were going into chronic depression, we remembered that the Rocks just swept the Padres, the Reds, and the Diamondbacks! So I thought I would start this post by bringing up how amazing Cargo (Carlos Gonzales) has been this year. He's leading in 2 of the 3 categories for the NL triple crown and in high contention for this years MVP. Congrats Cargo, you're the man!
Alright back to semi-related stuff. Last Thursday, Michael, Chris, Melissa, and I went to Malawi's Pizza and fed some Malawi orphans. Or at least I did my half of the deal, and now its up to Malawi's Pizza to feed them. My half of the deal was to eat the best meal I've eaten since the Semester began, then they go feed the orphans in Africa. Now 'the best meal I've eaten' is not saying all that much because 90% of my diet has been popcorn. Regardless, my Chicken Fettuccine was pretty good. Now we're all onto the next step, which is, of course, writing the paper. I'm writing the Intro, Conclusion and editing it all, which is awesome! I love editing stuff! In fact, in High School, I would get the school paper and write endless comments and point out every typo and stuff, then return my "Reader's Comment Issue" back to the newspaper staff in the middle of class. Needless to say, the quality of the Grandview Chronicle increased exponentially.

So I feel its pretty fitting, since the 9 year anniversary of 9/11 was Saturday, to end this post with a little Patriotism. So, GO AMERICA!

(image: http://theghostofmoonlightgraham.com/tag/carlos-gonzalez/)

Polonius is the Man

Well, actually Polonius isn't really the man. I just felt weird saying Ophelia was the Man... Anyways, about that essay we read. Just in case you've forgotten, Thomas G. Plummer wrote about Individuation and that finding out exactly who one is, one is able to avoid being controlled and find greater fulfillment and greater happiness. John J. Murphy disregarded many aspects of Plummer’s views and argued that “formal education becomes unhealthy when it is consciously directed toward ‘individuation,’ the discovery of the uniqueness of self” and that we need to look outward to learn and appreciate ourselves. I, personally, believe that they have both missed the mark. Education should be focused on cultivating new ideas but must work its way towards that goal as a student progresses.

Plummer’s suggested style of teaching is the ideal; however, it is difficult to control. As students continue throughout their education, they should be encouraged to pursue routes and but should cover a certain curriculum that will serve them later when they enter the real world and leave the academic world. I took piano from a teacher that would ask me what I thought of everything from what a certain measure meant to why a song had a certain chord progression. By doing so and finding patterns in the music that most people just plow through I was able to accelerate my learning exponentially, but I couldn’t take lessons from him until after I had another teacher who I had to learn to trust, teach me the basics of reading and playing music. By learning in this order I was able to better understand an idea that is complex and unexplainable and was given the opportunity to make my way from student to a peer with all the tools necessary to exceed the master.

Murphy is much more controlling, which is necessary to learn the basics of everything from life in general from parents, to a specific study. Well I feel like that's enough writing... How about a comic as an apology for that being so long winded?

(http://xkcd.com/773/)

Elder Eyring is the Man

Last night we were asked to annotate a speech given by Elder Eyring back in October 1997. It was called "A Child of God." It would probably have been more fittingly titled, "How to Overcome Pride" or "Success through Humility" but who am I to judge? I'm not a General Authority. The talk itself was excellent, and of course, so were my annotations, probably...
So my focus was an idea we discussed in class about "getting on the same page" through rhetoric. Elder Eyring's talk was fascinating by dissecting it looking for ways that he persuaded and simultaneously trying to get his audience on the "same page."

By connecting his themes to his specific audience of college age students, he was able to better persuade them. Most interestingly, Elder Eyring focused on learning and becoming educated while still remaining humble. Often, learning leads to pride, but Elder Eyring's discussion of how education becomes a means through which we can perfect ourselves showed the importance of what his audience was focusing on.

I also was impressed by how little Elder Eyring condemned pride, instead he focused on the rewards for stripping oneself of pride. He spends minimal time on the negative and spends the majority of his talk on the rewards. And as studies often show, positive emotions outweigh negative.

All and all, I would give his talk and 8 out of 10.

(picture from: http://valleyforgewoman.blogspot.com/2010/06/relief-society-lesson-recap-pottstown.html)