This class was truly a 21st century experience. This class challenged me not only in the arena of writing, but also the arena of technology. I was forced to integrate the two, and this has made me a better writer for the modern day. Though I was never a fan of blogs (something about posting your feelings on the internet for the world to see), I really enjoy the fact that my collection of writing for this class is all in one place and easily accessible. As I put together this final portfolio, I enjoyed rereading the writings that I have done because they brought me to that exact moment in time during which I wrote those entries. There is something about the honesty and purity in which blogs are written that make reading them a more personal and enjoyable experience. Thanks for a great semester, and enjoy! - Puja
Two analyses of photographs
Still Running
Civilian War
Two creative pieces
Childhood Memories
Why War?
Two letters
Tainted Hands
Letter Home
Group effort
Black Water Bridge
Pushing the limits of blogging
Destruction of Humanity - Child Soldiers
Stripping Away Materialism
A post of my own creation
The Sound of War
Friday, May 9, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
The Sound of War
This is a new post of my own design. Using Reason One software, I made a beat to exemplify the sounds of war entitled "War Torn". I chose sounds that symbolized war to me. For example, the base of the beat is a set of drums (snare, 808 kick bass drum) that exemplify soldiers marching and the mechanistic firing of guns. The two-note sound of the cello loops throughout the beat and this coupled with the subtle grand piano represents the heart beat of the soldiers. A war cry sample was chopped up, rearranged, and effected with reverb in order to represent the panic and fear inherent in soldiers going to war. This is the sound that is most prevalent in the beat, just as panic is also most prevalent in war. The high pitched sound that is at the surface of the beat is a synthesizer formed by an oscillator manipulating a digitally formed sound. This is representative of the excitement that exists in soldiers about to head to war. The summation of these individual instruments and digital sounds creates a beat that represents the emotions found in war.
Stripping Away Materialism
This is a new post that I have written from one of the ideas that we were provided in the last class. I chose this PostSecret postcard because it really identifies an issue that I think will be huge for our generation - materialism. All the money in the world won't make us happy, but we seldom realize this fact.
As I was looking through PostSecret with a friend, we came across this postcard. He didn’t understand it at all, while I got it perfectly. He asked, “How can they possibly be happy without all their belongings?” Materialism among the kids of our generation is rampant. Though it’s lessened a bit in college (or maybe I’ve just become less aware of it), I remember in high school where it was all about new shoes for each small occasion or the designer handbag that we “had” to have. Though not having these coveted “must-haves” may lead to unhappiness, this is only because we feel as though we need to have them. In fact, the acquisition of such material objects rarely leads to happiness. The anonymous writer of the postcard realizes this only after circumstance leads to the loss of all their materialistic possessions. Happiness is not about the objects that you have or want, but instead what you do with that which you do have. Sometimes removing those material desires strips life down to a more simple form. It allows you to notice and appreciate the happiness that still exists in your life. This is the happiness that is not dependent on material possessions, wealth, and status. This is the true form of happiness. The happiness that stems from simply being alive.
As I was looking through PostSecret with a friend, we came across this postcard. He didn’t understand it at all, while I got it perfectly. He asked, “How can they possibly be happy without all their belongings?” Materialism among the kids of our generation is rampant. Though it’s lessened a bit in college (or maybe I’ve just become less aware of it), I remember in high school where it was all about new shoes for each small occasion or the designer handbag that we “had” to have. Though not having these coveted “must-haves” may lead to unhappiness, this is only because we feel as though we need to have them. In fact, the acquisition of such material objects rarely leads to happiness. The anonymous writer of the postcard realizes this only after circumstance leads to the loss of all their materialistic possessions. Happiness is not about the objects that you have or want, but instead what you do with that which you do have. Sometimes removing those material desires strips life down to a more simple form. It allows you to notice and appreciate the happiness that still exists in your life. This is the happiness that is not dependent on material possessions, wealth, and status. This is the true form of happiness. The happiness that stems from simply being alive.
Why War?
This is a new creative piece that I have written. It is a short story narrative from the point of view of a thirteen year old girl on the day that World War III is declared.
My name is Cindy Walker and I am thirteen years old today. However, today, May 8th, 2018, will not be remembered as my birthday. It will be remembered as the day the United States and Israel declared war on the entire Middle East. Already, it’s different from the wars past that we’ve learned about in history class. According to my parents, this war began a long time ago. They claim that we’ve been at war with the Middle East since they were my age. They still remember the day the world changed – the day two planes were hijacked and flown into the Twin Towers. My parents took me there last summer, to the Freedom Tower and the World Trade Center Memorial that sits where the Twin Towers once stood. Sometimes As I stood there, on top of the 1,776 feet tall building, I tried to imagine the terror and fear that people must have felt on that day. The declaration of this war is the culmination of tensions that have been building since 9/11.
The news claims that the terror and fear of that day will not compare to what we are about to feel. They claim that the repercussions of the war will be felt not only in this country, but across the world. This war will surpass the casualties of World War II and the nuclear tensions felt in the Cold War. Everyone – the politicians, the news reports, the articles – keeps talking about how bad this is going to be. What I don’t understand is why the war has to happen. In Mrs. Gould’s history class last year, we learned that World War II happened because of Hitler and that the Civil War happened because of disagreement on the issue of slavery. All of the other wars had a direct cause, so then why doesn’t anyone mention why we are going to war? I asked my mom today, and she just shrugged her shoulders and said that as long as she can remember, we’ve been at war with the Middle East. To her, the official declaration doesn’t change anything. But I’m scared. I keep hearing words like “biological warfare” and “nuclear technology” on the news. In class, we learned that the world essentially has the capacity to destroy itself with this war. If this is true, then why are we at war? Doesn’t the President understand that he has put the entire world at risk with this declaration? I wish I could talk to the President and understand what issue was so important that he felt it necessary to risk the lives of billions of innocent citizens. But the fact is, that the world is at war and nobody really knows why.
Letter Home
This is a new post in which I write a letter from the point of view of a soldier who is writing home to his family. Though, I can't say I have any experience in the military, nor do I personally know someone who does, I have tried to take what I learned from the readings and movies that we watched in class and apply it to this fictional letter.
Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s about 1 o’clock at night and I’m sitting outside the barracks unable to sleep. I’ve been coming out here a lot lately, staring at the sky and thinking. It’s oddly peaceful at this time of night. It’s ironic that peace exists at all in this country. If only the insurgents of this country and the government of ours could come out here in the dark of the night and appreciate the peace. Maybe then, this war might be a little closer to being done. I’m finding it harder and harder to keep up my strength and morale lately. I’ve been here for exactly eleven months and nine days and I don’t feel as though I’ve accomplished anything. I came here full of idealism, but now it’s as though cynicism occupies most of my thoughts. I remember I thought that this life would be exciting, full of achievement and glory. I remember thrill and adrenaline I felt as my hands first held that sleek rifle. I remember the sense of purpose that came from the power I received with the rifle. I remember the optimism with which I entered the army. It’s different now. My hands feel heavy with the blood of those that I’ve killed. My heart feels angst as I realize that I have no purpose here. All I can think about is home. Mom, I remember the last time that I talked to you. I remember the melody that rang from your voice, as you chided me for not writing more often. The truth is that I write you every night, but I seldom send the letters. This is probably another one that I won’t actually send. I can’t bring myself to send letters from a man that I’m no longer proud of being. I don’t want you to know the man that I’ve become.
Love,
John
Dear Mom and Dad,
It’s about 1 o’clock at night and I’m sitting outside the barracks unable to sleep. I’ve been coming out here a lot lately, staring at the sky and thinking. It’s oddly peaceful at this time of night. It’s ironic that peace exists at all in this country. If only the insurgents of this country and the government of ours could come out here in the dark of the night and appreciate the peace. Maybe then, this war might be a little closer to being done. I’m finding it harder and harder to keep up my strength and morale lately. I’ve been here for exactly eleven months and nine days and I don’t feel as though I’ve accomplished anything. I came here full of idealism, but now it’s as though cynicism occupies most of my thoughts. I remember I thought that this life would be exciting, full of achievement and glory. I remember thrill and adrenaline I felt as my hands first held that sleek rifle. I remember the sense of purpose that came from the power I received with the rifle. I remember the optimism with which I entered the army. It’s different now. My hands feel heavy with the blood of those that I’ve killed. My heart feels angst as I realize that I have no purpose here. All I can think about is home. Mom, I remember the last time that I talked to you. I remember the melody that rang from your voice, as you chided me for not writing more often. The truth is that I write you every night, but I seldom send the letters. This is probably another one that I won’t actually send. I can’t bring myself to send letters from a man that I’m no longer proud of being. I don’t want you to know the man that I’ve become.
Love,
John
Destruction of Humanity - Child Soldiers
This is a new post based on one of the ideas we came up with in the last class. This interview and subsequent blog entry pushes the medium of the blog because it allows the reader to see the humanity in Beah’s eyes and the emotion in his voice before reading my analysis. We can see Beah’s youth, and it makes the reality of his experiences even more shocking. The transcript of the interview or an excerpt of the novel would not have had nearly the same effect.
Ishmael Beah Interview
This CBS interview with Ishmael Beah describes his experience as a child soldier in Sierra Leone and his motivation for writing the New York Times bestseller, A Long Way Gone. In the interview, he describes that his participation in the war “destroyed his humanity” and resulted in a “loss of self”. Beah was forced into the army when he was only fourteen years old, the age that we were as freshman in high school. Though I know that we felt powerful, mature, and even a bit “cool” as we entered high school, I doubt I would have felt capable of yielding a gun and taking the lives of others. The child soldiers of Sierra Leone, however, had to do just that. Even more disconcerting, the child soldiers became attached to the power of wrecking havoc on those that had done the same to them and their families. The army supplied drugs – further entrapping Beah and his fellow child soldiers into the violent and dehumanizing military lifestyle.
Beah writes his memoir in order to describe how humanity can be regained. The process is by no means simple; in fact, Beah describes days where he saw blood pouring out of showers and water taps. However, Beah seeks that readers understand that the process is not impossible. All that it requires is for someone, to remind the boy soldiers that they are still children - to look at them, not as murderers and insurgents that they might have been, but instead as the children that they are.
Three Questions I would have liked to ask:
1.) When the process of rehabilitation became difficult, what made you continue?
2.) The army gradually became your family and you state that you were addicted to the power and the drugs. So what were your feelings when UNICEF came to rescue the child soldiers? Were you at all disappointed to be leaving the lifestyle that you had become accustomed to, and if so, what made you come to the realization that it was for the better?
3.) What did you hope to accomplish by writing this novel? Do you feel that you have been successful in achieving this goal?
Ishmael Beah Interview
This CBS interview with Ishmael Beah describes his experience as a child soldier in Sierra Leone and his motivation for writing the New York Times bestseller, A Long Way Gone. In the interview, he describes that his participation in the war “destroyed his humanity” and resulted in a “loss of self”. Beah was forced into the army when he was only fourteen years old, the age that we were as freshman in high school. Though I know that we felt powerful, mature, and even a bit “cool” as we entered high school, I doubt I would have felt capable of yielding a gun and taking the lives of others. The child soldiers of Sierra Leone, however, had to do just that. Even more disconcerting, the child soldiers became attached to the power of wrecking havoc on those that had done the same to them and their families. The army supplied drugs – further entrapping Beah and his fellow child soldiers into the violent and dehumanizing military lifestyle.
Beah writes his memoir in order to describe how humanity can be regained. The process is by no means simple; in fact, Beah describes days where he saw blood pouring out of showers and water taps. However, Beah seeks that readers understand that the process is not impossible. All that it requires is for someone, to remind the boy soldiers that they are still children - to look at them, not as murderers and insurgents that they might have been, but instead as the children that they are.
Three Questions I would have liked to ask:
1.) When the process of rehabilitation became difficult, what made you continue?
2.) The army gradually became your family and you state that you were addicted to the power and the drugs. So what were your feelings when UNICEF came to rescue the child soldiers? Were you at all disappointed to be leaving the lifestyle that you had become accustomed to, and if so, what made you come to the realization that it was for the better?
3.) What did you hope to accomplish by writing this novel? Do you feel that you have been successful in achieving this goal?
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