Project 1

I believe the saying every cloud has a silver lining. To truly believe in such a statement a person has to see the world for what is in an optimistic perspective. Not to say these people are oblivious to any challenging situation, ignorant to common emotions of fear or worry but to recognize the good which can come from the bad, the dawn after the dusk and the silver lining.

As an eighth grade student it was hard for me to take any sort of belief into my life except for the belief of being accepted. Short, overweight and awkward my only real ambition was to be cool and popular alongside with my equally as blessed counterparts Tom and Christien. Together we unknowingly made a brotherhood of who threw rocks at each at lunch time, bought water bottles merely to throw on the girls and held our own fear factors to see who could eat the most bugs. Yes we were your typical non- athletic, talented kids who stood out for our utter weirdness.

One day after lunch we went to the bathroom to clean up after a good rock war. “BAM”, aloud smacking noise went off followed by laughing. While I was washing my battle wounds it kept going off.

“Hey man what’s that sound?” I asked the ever so puzzled looking Tom.

“I dunno dude but let’s check it out”, he replied. With the return of nod we all made our way to the back of the bathroom stalls. The sound was the aftermath of fists and feet colliding with the wooden door followed by the laughter of fellow classmates. I refer to them as my classmates but in reality they looked far to mature to be compared to us. Fuzzy like hair wrapped around the opening lips of the guy in middle, which bellowed out, “ Aye, watch’u looking at?”

As if this was the beacon to lead me to popularity, I seized the moment with a witty comeback. “Nothing much, you wimps punch like girls. Lemme show you how it’s done.”

“Ok, chubby checker go ahead make a hole in the door if you’re so bad.” In my head I thought this would be the perfect chance to show what I have. I looked over my shoulder to see my friends’ responses but they were nowhere to be seen. Alone I felt, a lamb with a pack of wolves, I had no support. Fist clenched I approached the door examining it for any weakness I could find. Ah there a crack, obviously where those ogres’ fists had struck it before. Without hesitation I cocked my arm back ready and loaded, a split second I pulled the trigger and fired my entire arm through the wooden door. Amazed at my own work I looked back waiting for praise for art of destruction. Nothing, except for a shove out of the way as they rushed to open the hole even wider using their fists and feet as tools. The adrenaline had worn off and I had realized what I did, all I could do was bolt away presumably in the same fashion as my loyal friends.
Weeks had passed from that incident and the memories had left my mind. Everyone was excited for the upcoming trip planned for next week, a weekend class trip staying at one of the sister islands. All the preparations were set, the class raised the money through bake sales and car washes all we had to do was wait one week. Then while discussing who was going to get shaving cream on them at night, the intercom spoke, “ Will Christopher Duty please report to the principal’s office.”

My heart sank and I could feel stomach trying to squirm out of my body. I rose from seat and walked to the door slowly stalked by whispers from other classmates at the back of heels. I had the same questions, my mind was blank, and I had no idea what I could have done wrong. The two minute walked seemed like ten before I had reached the principles chair. It was nerve racking, I could barely find the strength to raise my eyes towards her.

“Chris do you know what you have done?” she asked but no sooner then she finished her question , she answered it for me, “ I’ve been informed that you broke down a bathroom door with a couple of boys.”

It had all made sense now and my hidden fear had been revived. “Yes, ma’am I did.” As I responded I could feel my eyes start to glaze over.

“I’ve called your parents and informed them of your situation. Because you neglected to come and tell me about this like the other three boys, I cannot give you the benefit they have received of a two day interschool suspension. You will have four day external suspension and lose your rights to go on your class trips.” All of this said she kept her composure without raising her voice and keeping calm. I admired and feared that aspect about, it was almost robotic.

Day four of my suspension I had many thoughts running through my mind while walking the dog along the beach. I missed the greatest weekend with my friends to try and impress people who would essentially sell me out. What makes jerks like them cool and why does something like this have to happen to me. Head down, heavily weighed because of my thoughts I could only see the ground. A large green lump stopped me in my tracks, I could barely see the tightly wrapped rubber band around it. My heart finally found the strength to rise again as unwrapped this bundle. Sprinting I rushed back to my house and locked myself in room. I sat and counted for about an hour to finally conclude that I had stumbled across one thousand dollars. Not knowing of any dangers of such large amounts a kept this new reward with a grin on my face. I believed that my dark cloud was clearing with this chance of fate being my silver lining.

Journal Entry 7

• George Orwell says that the English language is in a decline. One point that he says his that people are not producing meaningful sentences but merely hollow statements by stringing words togethor which do not relate to the original point that which they started on. Writers are trying to make themselves seem more intellectual by using larger words which could simply be expressed by using smaller words with the same meaning. This just makes it harder to read and less appealing for the reader.

• In todays society I think that the way english is written is far worse than when Mr. Orwell was complaining about then. With instant communication such as hand helds, computers, and mobile phones people are able to talk to one an another faster then they would have 40 years ago. The time it took for a letter to reach one person to the other would be quite a while so whatever the person had to say was put in more detail and clearly so the other person to understand. This instant communication now relies on sending messages as fast as possible soo the language is shortened to speed things up. Words are over simlified in this way and this can also reflect in a persons writing.
• I think that Orwell's rules are quite effecient in structured writing such as essays and informational documents such as news articles, text book information and so on. This rule though only applies to these situations. In the instance of writing a novel, whatever the genre maybe, using long winded sentences could be used to capticate the readers mind and give vivid descriptioon of something which could be told very simply.

The Maker's Eye: Revising Your Own Manuscripts

1. When revising my first draft of Project 1 i can look at each step and try to apply them to my story. When looking at the information in my story I decided to use an alternate means of telling the story by giving little bits of information, piece by piece for the reader find out as the read. The information i used was personal and true events so it was a retelling of a past event that I found myself quite interesting. When looking at the perspective of the audience I think that the way I layed out the story was a little confusing. Jumping back and forth between time in each paragraph. When relating this to the structor of the manuscript it seems very muddled. The tense in which each paragraph is written does not support the time periods which I am trying to project. In development I think there may not be enough information for the reader to assume the final conclusion of the story on their own without asking questions. The Voice of my story seems to be present giving each situation enough detail to clearly map what is going on the readers mind.

2. After reading the essay I think I would make serval changes to makeit easier to understand. Firstly I would like to keep the structure of the easy jumping back and forth between different times but maybe with a larger word count I could expand each situation making it easier for the reader to follow. Enabling me to expand the essay i can also add more information which would lead to more development in coming to the conclusion of the story yet still leaving some sort of mystery to it. Another thing I would change is the tense situation, clearly defining punctuation that will let the reader understand what point in time they are reading.

3. I think with quoting from other authors gives the writing another dimension. He is reinforcing his own views by using these authors' quotes which are similar to his own so it doesnt seem so much of opinion but more fatual. Compiling quotations relieves the reader from the same monotonous essay and also gives the reader an idea of where the auther may have got their own theroies and opinions from.

Evolution

“Oh no, late again professor Arch is going to fail me for sure this time”, the thought loomed at the top of my mind as I reached for the brass handle of the door. I creepily peered through the crack of the frame as I pushed the door open. I could safely say I knew what a fly must feel like before being devoured by its furry menace the spider. A class of twenty, I could feel all forty- two eyes glaring straight at me. I stood there frozen at the entrance just staring right back until a harsh voice broke me from my metaphoric web.

“You’re early Mr. Duty.” With such a statement I gave a puzzled look in response to my biology professor Dr. Arch.

“My next class doesn’t start until ten tomorrow morning but since you’re so enthusiastic about my class I will let you stay for the last half hour of this one.” He said with a smirk on his face and an audience that approved of his ever so witty and sarcastic humor with laughter.
“Thank you sir”, I whispered in response as I hurried to my seat, “It won’t happen again I promise”.

“Let's hope not for your sake. Anyways class let’s get back to our topic at hand. All life as we know it are made of living micro-organisms called cells, which are our essential building blocks of life containing DNA, our information bank of chromosomes that make us who we are today. Scientists like I believe that life formed from single cells called prokaryotic cells which are known as bacteria and archea. The archea is the first cell to have broken off the original cell and adapted to earth’s harsh surroundings by evolving through self reproduction known as mitosis with each generation after generation changing to suit its environment. While obtaining its membrane the cells began to ingest other cells such as types of bacteria which give us our plant and animal cells. These gather and form tissues, which lead to organ systems to the end result an organism like you and me.”

This logic and reasoning is makes a lot of sense and yet doesn’t at the same. Sure these maybe the building blocks but I come to question how was this first cell created.
Slight tension building and my nervous cause me to shake as I force myself to blurt out, “How is this beginning cell known as the creator of life formed?”

H e looked directly at me with the same smug grin on his face ready to show off his Yale education. “ Well if you showed up on time you would know that cells are made up of molecules which, for living molecules such as carbohydrates, lipids, proteins and nucleic acids are made up of atoms carbon and hydrogen. The earth was a very molten planet 5 billion years ago with very large amounts of Carbon and hydrogen atoms that under the right circumstances created life.” Quite impressed with himself he looked away from me and looked back at the class waiting for their approval and again they responded with acceptance with another cackle.

“That is true professor that is what makes a cell, I have read the book and also did my research on the topic like you asked. You didn’t answer my question though I asked how this creator cell was formed. Sure it may be made with the same molecules as cells but how did this become alive?” Sick of my embarrassment I decided to turn the tables on my professor. “You don’t know is the answer, no one knows. Scientists in the 1950 created simple proteins the founding of DNA yet these are not the same and the proteins in DNA still have not been created in labs. Even more strange is the fact that having a completed cell does not mean it is living. Dead cells cannot be brought to life by any human means and we don’t know how begins live. You explain it so simply yet you cannot be positive a natural cause formed life and you refuse to accept that there might be some supernatural force that has created some genetic life form. But as a scientist you refuse to explore the supernatural. But who sets that boundary? Is the boundary fixed or does it just represent the limit of our current understanding? Significant scientific discoveries in the past have often forced us to move the boundaries. Illnesses once thought to be caused by spirits are now known to be due to micro-organisms. Even Einstein had difficulty accepting the truth of quantum mechanics.”

Silence fell upon the room and again I felt like the fly. I sunk back into my seat and put my head down to my book, but it didn’t work I could feel his eyes burning into my head.
“Class dismissed, except for you Mr. Duty. I wish to speak to you about being “LATE”.”

The Inheritance of Tools

1. Sanders uses the wall as a setpoint for his narrative story. As welearn more about the completion of the wall, the more we learn about whats happening in his life. Being a family of carpenters through out the generations each memeber found passion in building with wood creating houses, toys and furniture. We are given pieces of information of about how his farther died and what bond they all shared through a chronological time period based on the completion of the wall.

2. As sanders starts to the story he tells of the present day talking about his family and starting to build the wall for his daughters room. Its a unique way of telling a story reverting to his past by using the completion of the wall. He starts by hitting his thumb he refers to sayings that his father would tell him, that his before would tell. Setting about an introduction to learn more about his grandfather and how the family became carpenters. Through the passing of the hammer we learn how about how his father sparked his intrigue into carpentry. He then goes on to talk about days before his father died and how he almost tore down the wall for his daughters gerbils. This give more insight to his immediate family and his tools and proffessions influence them. As he reaches the day of completion we find out thats the day his father died which draws the story to close surronding alot of emotion into this building of wall. Something we say everyday and take for granted this writer gave it emotion and good story to read.

3. A dawn stone is merely a rock that was used as a simple tool for everyday usuage. It proved an effective tool for carrying out tasks. HE is using these tools to reference to his own. Even though there was a great deal of time that went by from the creation of the dawnstone the idea of the hammer is still the same, used for hardness to carry out tasks there is no real distinction between the job it carries out.

Journal Entry 4

Judy Syfer lists alot of activities that wives do. She says that a wife is there to look after the children ad clean the house and also to please their partner whenever. She makes a wife seem like a personal possesion not a person, an almost robot like machine with no freedom or speech of their own. In the 1970s equality of race and sexuality where being put under the spotlight. Women were looking for equal rights as men in work and society. Before this women were supposed to get married and stay home with the children and take care of the house, while at the same time seeing to the needs of their husbands because they were the providers of the family. Leaving an imprint we stereo-typically think of a wife at first as a person who stays at home but is not actually the case. Most families now have both parents working making their own incomes.

In her writing style she kept repeating the line at each sentence, "I want a wife..". I think that her writing like this gives less personality to a wife and creates them into a possesive object that all men seek. She wasnt say this as a way to appeal to the reader what a good should be what sexist men see wives as. This writing is a form of protest against men and not encourages women to be like this.