My Soul...

WARNING. This blog is not for the faint of heart. The comic posted here is heavy and pretty damn depressing. That being said, it's also brilliant, so don't be scared away.

http://www.whatisdeepfried.com/COMIX/Family/PAGE1.html
http://zyguy.imgur.com/clarissa_comics#12

The two links above tell the story of Clarissa. Now before I continue, I'm going to pause here so that people who want to actually read them don't have it ruined.

Now, if you're like me, after the first one you were probably thinking "Wait. Did her dad... you know... do stuff to her?" Yes, the answer is. He did rape her (I warned you that this was dark). And if you keep reading, it only gets heavier. What I find brilliant about these strips, and specifically the first one, is how cleverly the author has hidden the truth in plain sight, just waiting for you to realize it. And as soon as you do, it's like a punch in the gut. And each successive strip is just as gut-wrenching. Honestly, the best comparison I can make is to the end of 1984. While that was a much more elaborate and drawn-out (and thus more powerful) punch to the gut, that same feeling of helplessness and horror hit me when I read that first comic strip. The second reason I find these strips brilliant is how well it manages to portray the feeling of being this poor little girl. The art clearly displays the hopelessness she feels in the way she's drawn and each little story shows a different side to her reaction to this tragedy, from letting it out in drawing, to her killed imagination in Stuffed Friend to the ending of Bath Time Fun. Every time you realize that this poor little girl has been forced to kill off her own childhood, or view herself as the problem or every exaggerated and fake smile on the faces of her family just kills a little bit of you.
Fortunately, as is the nature of tragedy, I find that a new little bit of me grows in that dead bit's space, and something like this ultimately leaves me feeling cleansed and that much more determined to right the wrong that happens in this world.

That Worked Rather Well

This is a bit of an unusual blog, but I thought this was worth sharing.


Last night, inspired by my World Religions class, I decided to meditate before going to sleep. I had been having trouble sleeping, and felt just in general that I could use some peaceful time to think. So, without really much idea of what it was I was trying to do, I put some Godspeed You! Black Emperor on my speakers quietly, and just sat and focused on my breathing.

It was actually really awesome. While it took much focus, I found that I was actually able to pull myself away from my physical body, in a way. The way I had been sitting was slightly crushing my left foot, but if I allowed myself to sink deep enough into the meditation, I found that the sensation of mild pain completely disappeared. Although I meditated for a full 15 minutes, I was only really able to hit this state of mind for all of 30 seconds, so I intend to continue to practice reaching this state.
On top of the very profound feeling of losing my physical state, it also worked another miracle: I fell asleep almost immediately after getting into bed to sleep. Through focusing on my breathing and trying to relax different muscles one at a time, I found that I was able to reach a state of relaxation that was totally unfamiliar to me in my daily life. When I went to go to sleep, I didn't spend half an hour, an hour struggling to relax my body and my mind, because I had already hit a deeper state of relaxation in 15 minutes than I had ever reached through music, or "just lying there" had ever gotten me in hours.
If you're open to it, I definitely recommend you give it a try. It was honestly one of the most profoundly satisfying things I have ever done.

Wow

I'd love to write some amazing blog post about how inspiring this kid is, or how eloquent and mature his speech is, but I'm honestly at a loss for words. So just take a listen, I promise you'll be moved.

AP Lang Has Made Me Petty

In a really intellectual way, AP Lang has made me rather petty.
Let me give you an example. I have installed on my phone a TED talk app. I usually have 10-15 talks downloaded to my phone at a time, on topics from architecture to psychology to video games. Every once in a while, on a long car ride or train ride, I'll pull it out and watch one. The problem is, I've been finding, ever since we did our section on rhetoric, that I'm simply incapable of sitting through a lot of them. It's not a lack of patience or anything like that; when I find one I like I always sit through the entire thing. The problem I'm finding that I have with some talks is rhetorical. Sometimes the person is just a bad speaker, sometimes the person has written a bad speech. Whatever the reason, there are some talks that, no matter the brilliance of the idea, I simply can't get myself to sit through. Learning about rhetoric through AP Lang has opened my eyes to what constitutes a bad speech even more than they were open before.
The problem I'm having is that there are a lot of speeches I get bored with that do more than likely contain brilliant and thoughtful content. Am I missing out on many ideas that could enlighten me and enrich my life? Unfortunately, I'd have to say that I probably am. I have yet to watch a TED talk that didn't contain incredibly interesting observations and ideas, and the ones that I skip over are probably no different.
Now, before it sounds like I'm hating on Lang AP, let me clarify something: I do think that losing those talks is worth it. Because of the work we've been doing in Lang, I feel that I am able to better understand and analyze the other talks that I do sit through, and that alone makes any lost content worth it to me.

Workshopping

Inspired by Mr. Tallman's noticing that we tend to avoid writing about writing, I have decided to write about my general experience with work shopping essays in class.
And it's not exactly positive. I generally find advice given by other students (and I'm sure this applies to the advice I ggive as well) to be not all that helpful in improving my writing beyond what I have put out.
Let me explain exactly what I mean by that. Generally, a student's advice will not go beyond basic word choice or syntax. Very rarely will you hear a student advise another student to completely rework his essay this way or that in order to effectively transmit his point. I think the reason for this is threefold.
One, most kids our age would probably be uncomfortable giving that kind of heavy-handed criticism to another student. As we view each other generally as equals, telling a fellow student that his essay basically sucks sounds really arrogant and just feels like you're being a dick.
The second reason is that students are generally not confident enough in their own writing ability to be able to offer up serious criticism. Especially when editing writing by the likes of Matt Luongo, I feel as though any criticism I could possibly offer is going to be less sophisticated than the actual writing he has already put down.
Finally, conversations about the writing tend to get sidetracked. In the workshop between Brendan, John and I in our most recent class, we ended up arguing about the subject of my writing (straight plays versus musical theater) for half an hour instead of working on our writing.
All of this being said, it is a pretty good way to get someone to scan your writing for any basic mistakes so I suppose it is worth it in that way.

Narrative Essay

Hey guys, I was looking through my narrative essay and just felt like it was not quite where I want it to be. If anybody has any relevant criticism, that would be awesome.

Jason Clark

Mr. Tallman

English Language and Composition AP

11/2/12

Track 1

                This is what it means to be alive, he thought as he dropped over the fence. As he oriented himself with the digital map he had on his wrist, he felt his heart beat jump. He had a mission, he had a challenge and now he felt right at home. The man known as Mr. Tong was the largest drug dealer on this half of the globe, and it was his job to take Tong out. There was a catch though. It had to look like an accident. He had been airlifted just outside of Mr. Tong’s compound with a silenced pistol, a vial of poison that would mimic a heart attack, several high-tech gadgets and his own wits. The compound was one of the most heavily guarded structures in the world.

                He found himself on the map: he was 200 yards south of the compound. A quick jog through the jungle, and he came upon his target. The compound was an imposing structure: all metal, large and teeming with guards. Now, it was time to observe. After many years on the job, he had learned that every guarded structure had one thing in common: patterns. Every guard, every camera had a pattern that it followed, and patterns lead to predictability. So, he waited and watched. And he found his opportunity. Every hour, on the hour, there was flaw in the system. There was no guard in the southern corner. And so, just before the next hour, he left his cover in the trees and made his way to the wall. Once there, he unhooked a section of rope from his belt as well as a small hook. He threw the hook up top and climbed up with ease, reaching the top quietly and quickly. As he prepared to move to the shadow created by the adjacent building, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A guard. They had changed their pattern, just now. The guard had not seen him yet, he was about to turn the corner and was scanning the landscape. The agent had seconds, if that, to not be discovered. His only option was to stand in the shadows and hope against hope that he would blend in enough with the shadow that the guard would not notice. As the guard turned the corner, time seemed to slow for the agent. He felt cold sweat drip down his spine and felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in years: fear. He could feel the pressure around him: if he was discovered he would be killed. The guard passed by almost in slow motion, seeming to take forever to traverse the several meters that would put the agent out of the guard’s field of view. The agent pressed himself against the wall, willing himself to blend into the wall.s He held his breath, praying to a god he had never believed in that the guard would not notice him.

                The guard passed without noticing. The agent stayed pressed against the wall, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. He took several shaky steps away from the wall and began to return to reality. He breathed deeply, urging his mind to take control of his body again. As he slowly returned to normal, the precariousness of his situation took hold of him. Surely, the guard would be back. He needed to move. He had been arrogant and it would not happen again. He felt his confidence returning, tempered this time by the reminder of his own mortality and imperfection. His target was in the middle of the compound, and there were still guards and cameras in the way. He made his way across the compound, effectively and conservatively using cover to move across to the center. Now, it was just a matter of putting the poison in Mr. Tong’s favorite wine and then getting back out. He went in through an air vent to the kitchen. He inserted the poison through the cork, smooth and clean, and exited the way he came in. His path back out would be the same as his path in. He knew the camera placements and how many guards were along the way. His exit was smoother than his entrance, and he was picked up by a helicopter several miles from the compound. 

I Have A Problem...

...and it's straight out of a Ned's Declassified episode (no, I'm serious there actually was an episode almost exactly like this).
I can't seem to say no. Whenever an opportunity to involve myself comes up, I invariably take it. This past weekend, I had rehearsal for the next show I'm doing on Saturday morning, a band practice early Saturday afternoon, a performance of the show I was working on at the time Saturday evening, another band practice Sunday afternoon, a gig Sunday night on top of homework that included the compare and contrast essay from this class, AP Lang.
Now, individually I have no issue with any of these things. I love theater, I love playing music and I'm really enjoying AP Lang. However, when they combine to completely pack my weekend (especially when that weekend comes just after New Years' Eve, a 48-hour period that completely exhausted me), there starts to be a bit of an issue. I collapsed into bed on Sunday night, completely worn out and not having done two subjects worth of homework.
But I just can't say no. It's such a powerfully exclusive word that I can't bring myself to say it. I so desperately want to get the most I can possibly get out of life that I avoid that word like the plague. The problem is, it's not the plague that's killing me. It's exhaustion.

Ohh Wayne LaPierre

"Only Sith deal in absolutes"
Ignoring the fact that
A. the new trilogy is terrible compared to the original and
B. that quote is actually an absolute, thus making Obi-Wan a Sith by his own words, this quote has a certain, relevant point.
If you're wondering what in the heck Star Wars could have to do with Wayne LaPierre, let me give you a quote of his that will perhaps clear things up:
"The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun."
Ignoring the absolute absurdity of this statement holistically, I want to talk specifically about his use of the words "good" and "bad". He seems to have in his head this incredibly dualistic world. There's no gray in the phrases "good guy" and "bad guy", just white and black. It wouldn't be a stretch to imagine him saying "You're either with me or against me" (for those of you that haven't kept up on their Star Wars, that's the line Anakin gives right before Obi-Wan says what I quoted above).
My problem with this attitude is that it's disgustingly simplistic. And, as with all overly simplistic models or views of the world, it ignores many realities of life that make life much more grey than black and white. And when you ignore reality, you ignore many problems that exist in reality.
The world is not absolute, and there is no such thing as an easy solution to this problem. On top of that, even if purely good and purely bad people existed, how would we figure out which is which?  Humanity and morality is more complicated than that, Mr. LaPierre, and the sooner you figure that out, the better chance your organization has of remaining relevant.

Art Direction

I'd like to talk about a concept that comes from two forms of media I enjoy: video games and theater.
Art Direction. The way that a specific game or show takes the story they've been given. The art director is in charge of unifying the artistic vision of the media he or she is in charge of. It's why it's worth seeing a show more than once, and the difference between a meaningful, deep game and a cheap, irrelevant game.

There are two examples I'd like to use to explain this concept: the musical "Pippin" and the game "Spec Ops: the Line". I have seen two productions of "Pippin", one by South Shore Summer Theater (SSST), a theater company set in the south shore (obviously) that uses teenagers as actors and techies. The other, which I just saw, was by the American Repertory Theater (ART). Now, obviously the ART production was much more professional and of much higher quality, but I actually found the art direction taken by the SSST production to be much better. The SSST show was much darker, featuring an ensemble split between people dressed in all white or all black and a very dark (and eventually insane) Lead Player. The ART production was much brighter, taking a circus theme featuring many acrobatic stunts. It was also much heavier on the humor. Now, because I hate happy things, I found the SSST production to be much more enjoyable. (I kid, it's really because I find a show that is dark to be much more meaningful and emotionally impactful). Despite that all of the technical elements, as well as the singing and acting were much better in the ART production, I found the SSST production to be better simply because of the way they interpreted the script.

Spec Ops: The Line is a third-person shooter, which is not exactly a unique genre. Many popular games are this genre, including the Gears of War series. What makes this unique is how this game views itself. Rather than featuring the usual glory of war, encouraging and rewarding acts of violence. Now, there's not anything particularly wrong with this approach (contrary to Mr. LaPierre's claims, video games do not cause violence), but when an entire genre (shooter) has taken this one view of violence and war, it seems like time for a change. And what a change Spec Ops is. Shining a light on the violence inherent in these games, it forces you to make decisions you are not going to like, and forces you to consider the implications of those actions. It has, unlike many other shooters, left an emotional impact on those who played it. As such, it will remain relevant.