The Reservation

We've learned a lot about reservations, from 30 Days, Smoke Signals, and the Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Looking at the conditions in the rez, I can't honestly say that I am part of a social rez myself. Living in one of the better neighborhoods of Chicago, being pretty well-off, and having access to a wonderful school, opportunity has knocked on my metaphorical door many times. I didn't come from a very academically known elementary school, so I suppose I have had to extend myself beyond some perceived limits to be where I am today, not unlike Arnold and Reardan. Honestly though, the greatest example of a reservation I've experienced  is that of certain members of my extended family. They live in the very rural parts of Indiana, and they are the most ignorant people I've ever met and hopefully will ever meet. I'm not being elitist and saying "Well, they don't know calculus or what the Ides of March are, how quaint", no, they are just all around ignorant. Socially, politically, personally, racially, if you can think of a way to be ignorant, they are that. My cousins are an example, and I have begin to realize the incredible limits of living in a super rural area. I'm not saying anything's wrong with rural living, some of my favorite and brightest people I know live even further from cities, I think it's just how they where raised. I guess ignorant parents raise ignorant kids. The point is these kids parents are a kind of reservation from all the world has to offer, and the new ideas that permeate society (like not being racist). For me, the rez was a place or community that was limiting to your opportunities and destroyed your hope, and I guess bad parents fit into that definition for anybody anywhere. It makes me grateful for all the opportunities that have led to where I am today.
Note: Most/All of my family is just fine, I don't want to give the impression I have Klan members in my extended family or anything, just a really ignorant  great uncle and his kid. I guess everyone complains about their extended family though :) 

My Principle

Firstly, I can think of no rule or law that should be enforced on everyone that hasn't already been implemented as a basic human right. Even then, many times the most good trumps any law, and that is certainly righteous. In fiction this is often espoused, like vigilante heroes or even historical assassins, people who break the law to uphold justice. So it is apparent that law does not always equal the true good for every situation. That being said, a good principle for everyone to accept is to never compromise his own principles, and to stay true to what he knows is right. A super simple example of this is people faced with the gay-marriage, who will either accept the reality of it, and often allow the same basic human right to other men. Yet many people will not see simple facts, and follow the fairy-tails (no pun intended) of their pastors or politicians. So basically truth and right come form reason and the reality of the situation, and not blind faith. That being said a super good principle is to not eat babies. Really, their is never any reason to eat a baby. It's probably as evil as a guy can go, and they are terrible for you. Don't eat people in general, but when a group of dudes is are stranded and a guy is having heat stroke and he tells his bros they need to eat him to survive, well ,then that's ok.

Janie Crawford

The first thing that struck me about Janie is her heritage, and how she actually seems somewhat proud of being mixed. I mean to each their own, but she's only mixed because the female members of her family where all raped by white men. Not exactly something to be really pleased about, but she seems to be more interested in her own duality that the connotations of it. She goes to great lengths to be proud of her straight, Caucasian hair, but also wears overalls to shun her own femininity. This makes me think she is less interested in actually being of some group, but prefers to freedom associated with being undecided. Anyways, at a young age she becomes anamoured with the idea of love, expressing this with her reflections on the fertility of pollinated peach blossoms, and other "ripe fruit" symbolism. Anyhow, the dudes of her town are pretty cool with this, as she is described as being very physically attractive. She has her first kiss and is looking for love, when her grandmother shuts her down, saying she needs a man to set her up with some comfort. Aside from harshing her vibe, grandma makes a good point, because she is super old and worn out, and Janie has no one else to take care of her. Janie sets herself up with the well-off farmer Logan, who is the simplest character in the entire book. Hes a super stoic, hard working farmer, and only way of expressing himself is by chewing tobacco. Anyhow, this doesn't work out very well, so she run off with the hot shot Jody, who is somewhat of an asshole. He isn't directly malicious in nature, he just is driven by the political template of success, and treat Janie as an object because of the standards set by the times. She isn't cool with this, but she seems to just suck up and deal with it, which is odd. Somewhat fortunately though, he is super old, and when she confronts of him about their relationship, she is the figurative and literal nail in the coffin. Jody's death means Janie is now a free woman, and she now struggles with concealing her joy. She moves on pretty quick with good old Tea Cake, and he seems like the perfect man for her, but thankfully is still human, and can be an absent jerk at times. Thank God, because if he was just the perfect prince charming, it would just feel like he was the concocted antithesis of Jody, instead of a legit human being. Anyhow  Janie is still pretty stoked over Tea Cake, and at this point in the story she seems to have made it pretty far in both sucesses and maturity.

Thanksgiving Post

This years Thanksgiving, I am obviously grateful for the entire class, for being such a great group of people. Somehow this class is my most fun. and I still learn more in it than all my other classes combined. Thank you all :)
Specifically, I would like to thank Michael. Not only have we become good friends this year, but you always have a smile on your face.  I've not known many people so consistently happy and chill. Also thank you for being so generous with your supplies, a disorganized person like me couldn't get any work done without you. I  really enjoy our five minute conversations right before class starts, especially.
I also want to thank Jonathan, Erik, Kobe, and Willie. Regardless of which group I work with, you guys are always so nice and have such great ideas.
Finally thank you Mr. McCarthy for being on of the best teachers I've ever had, and one of the few who seems dedicated to challenging us, and keeping things fun. Again I'm so grateful for the entire class, hope you all have a good five-day weekend and lots of good food :)

So when I heard that we had to do a blog about Ernest Hemingway's life I got pretty excited. Ernest Hemingway is one of my big hero's, spirit guides, gurus, whatever you want to call someone who had beliefs and goals similar to yours. Most of my heroes tend to be these larger than life, worldly sort of men, like James Bond, Jacques Cousteau, and especially Ernest Hemingway. Like any young man, I chose them as role models because they loosely emulated the vision I had always had for myself since I could remember, specifically, an adventurous, well traveled person, living life passionately to the fullest. Anyhow, backing up from that personal tirade, I just have to say Ernest Hemingway was a badass. Sorry for the expression Mr. McCarthy, but that's the only way I can describe him. The dude practically comes out of nowhere from a little Oak Park family and then carves this amazing path across the world, pretty much by himself. My grade school was in Oak Park, and it was literally right across the street from Ernest Hemingway's house. I could look at the window of my class and say "yep, Hemingway was born right about there". As we all know he had a pretty rough childhood, and he hated Oak Park for being so close-minded, but he still managed to pursue his future in writing, first in Chicago, but the he ships off to Italy to support the war effort. We know he was injured, but from the very somber tone and all the disillusionment, I'm thinking he saw some pretty grisly stuff out there, which is understandable for WW1. Anyhow we know in his mid-life he spent a lot of time in places like Paris, Spain, Venice, Key West, and Havana and he was awesome. He was a record-holder in both deep-sea fishing and daiquiri drinking, as well as a avid boxer. He was bros with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound, William Butler Yeats, James Joyce, and Gertrude Stein. Aside form Stein, who was annoying (my opinion, not fact) these people made up the Lost Generation, titled by Gertrude Stein, a label none of it's members subscribed to. Ernest Hemingway really hit his stride around his forties, his boxing, fishing and drinking where still going well, and he was now a big-game hunter, patron of bull-fighting, and a sub hunter during WWII. That's right, you read that correctly. He was a mercenary Nazi submarine hunter. He never caught a sub, but it's the thought that counts. He was a alcoholic, albeit a functioning one, and perhaps his lifestyle started catching up with him, because he had some serious health issues, and his decline form their sent him into a deep depression from which he never emerged. He killed himself by shooting himself with his favorite shotgun, and those who found him reported that he managed to get to get both barrel's off. A somber end to a glorious life.

Six Word Novels

"Sorry soldier, shoes sold in pairs".
ADHD. Searched for cure. Got bored.
Happy masochist entangled in jellyfish tentacles.
Wind blows, sails fill, journey begins.
Surgeon saves patient, Patient thanks God.
Shooting at anarchist meeting, Call Cops!

John Proctor: Hero or Stooge?

When I first heard the word stooge for this assignment, I’ll admit I thought something along the lines of the three stooges, but a quick google search defined it as a person who merely supports or assists someone else. To this respect, I am certain that John Proctor is definitely not a stooge. He is much more of a tragic hero of a Shakespearean nature. Basically, a tragic hero is a somewhat normal person, not particularly great, with greatness or heroics thrust upon them, often resulting in his tragic failure or demise. An example of a tragic hero could be Oedipus, Batman, or Sydney Carton. I think John Proctor is especially similar to Sydney Carton from ‘A Tale of Two Cities’. Both are men with dissatisfied with their lives, who have made mistakes in the past, but reclaim their goodness in a noble act of self-sacrifice. It may seem like John Proctor was somewhat stooge-like in the beginning, since he seems more concerned with keeping his mistakes a secret and preserving his family’s reputation. It is only later in the play that he demonstrates his heroics, sacrificing his life not only to preserve his family’s good name, but also the good name and innocence of those condemned with him.