<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:19:51.527-05:00</updated><category term='M'/><title type='text'>Sober-Eyed Conclusions</title><subtitle type='html'>Four Girls Intoxicated With Literature</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8553262704839866606</id><published>2009-01-22T10:08:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T10:24:06.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ending That Makes You Want More...</title><content type='html'>As I was helping my sister study for a certain english teacher's midyear exam, I realized how good the books that we dreaded reading that year really were. I was helping her study the plot line of Lord of the Flies. I remember only reading bits and pieces of the book, and not really enjoying it, but as I read the end of the book last night I found a new appreciation for it. It's just so amazing I re-read that last chapter once to myself, and then once aloud to my sister because it was just so captivating for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent this past weekend with my extended family up Maine. While we were there we talked about books that we have read, and reccomended new ones to each other. My mom's cousin said that she had been reading all the books she never read in high school ( such as The Great Gatsby, Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations). I laughed when she told me this because, I would never choose to read these books on my own. She said that now she had gotten older she had a better understanding of these books, and found them to be ten times more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading the ending of Lord of the Flies made me understand where she was coming from. I think that I might try to do the same when I get older, because I will be older and more experience, and I could see myself feeling that same appreciation that I felt reading the end of Lord of the Flies, and that she felt reading her old high school books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kmart:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8553262704839866606?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8553262704839866606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8553262704839866606&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8553262704839866606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8553262704839866606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/ending-that-makes-you-want-more.html' title='The Ending That Makes You Want More...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-6016367907300526587</id><published>2009-01-10T21:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T21:32:43.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How many days until spring?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWlZcGsm69I/AAAAAAAAAC0/MVVquWlN7tE/s1600-h/mt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWlZcGsm69I/AAAAAAAAAC0/MVVquWlN7tE/s400/mt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289857576692280274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I drove past the beach and it made me miss Kennebunk and warm weather so much. I can not wait until I can spend my time off from school, whether it be a break or a weekend, in the water. My favorite place in the entire world has to be up Maine at my cabin on a small lake outside of Millinocket. This place has to be the deffinition of peacful. Now I'm currently counting the days until spring has arrived. I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-6016367907300526587?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/6016367907300526587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=6016367907300526587&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6016367907300526587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6016367907300526587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-many-days-until-spring.html' title='How many days until spring?'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWlZcGsm69I/AAAAAAAAAC0/MVVquWlN7tE/s72-c/mt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5014388898567739462</id><published>2009-01-09T16:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T16:22:45.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Rad Pumpkin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWfAIOZxDZI/AAAAAAAAACs/9iA36sTbOaE/s1600-h/obama+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWfAIOZxDZI/AAAAAAAAACs/9iA36sTbOaE/s400/obama+pumpkin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289407534907592082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While surfering Facebook I came across this awesome picture of a pumpkin. This pumpkin was carved by a friend of mine from my old school. It is probably one of the greatest pieces of vegtable art that I have seen. When asked about his motive for doing this he said, "obviously i couldn't resist pushing my political opinions of the poor innocent little trick-or-treaters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5014388898567739462?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5014388898567739462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5014388898567739462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5014388898567739462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5014388898567739462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-rad-pumpkin.html' title='One Rad Pumpkin'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWfAIOZxDZI/AAAAAAAAACs/9iA36sTbOaE/s72-c/obama+pumpkin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7355802416594158325</id><published>2009-01-07T13:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T13:18:34.605-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clinging To What We Hate</title><content type='html'>"They hated Krajiek, but they clung to him because he was the only human being with whom they would talk or from whom they could get information." (53). This sentence from "My Antonia" made me think about how often in today's society people may hate something so much, and it may bring them so much distress, but they still cling to it because they feel they need it. I have conversed with many people about how they cannot stand the job that they feel committed to. Especially in today's economy, many people are forced to spend the majority of their time doing something that they cannot stand, only because they feel that there is no way out or around it. Jobs are scarce and the risk of quitting a current job to find a new one is too high. So these people cling to their workplace because although they hate it, it gives them some sort of security. There are even instances were people find themselves in relationships that cause them unhappiness, but they cling to this person, no matter how much pain they bring them because they feel that it is better than to know what its like to be alone. The way that the Shimerdas feel about Krajiek is not uncommon. It seems to be a reoccuring theme in the world and people will most likely put themselves into situations like this for the rest of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7355802416594158325?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7355802416594158325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7355802416594158325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7355802416594158325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7355802416594158325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/clinging-to-what-we-hate.html' title='Clinging To What We Hate'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4202613915435422726</id><published>2009-01-04T21:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T21:20:26.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>some more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuRZpaNQI/AAAAAAAAACk/Qsi8oe8AaB4/s1600-h/paris12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuRZpaNQI/AAAAAAAAACk/Qsi8oe8AaB4/s400/paris12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287628682731074818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuRNnt5ZI/AAAAAAAAACc/k727ThoBZts/s1600-h/paris19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuRNnt5ZI/AAAAAAAAACc/k727ThoBZts/s400/paris19.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287628679502751122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuQo6zfLI/AAAAAAAAACU/NR-9lGJNKk4/s1600-h/paris13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuQo6zfLI/AAAAAAAAACU/NR-9lGJNKk4/s400/paris13.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287628669650697394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuQuTH1iI/AAAAAAAAACM/HcsTo0ldV4o/s1600-h/paris10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuQuTH1iI/AAAAAAAAACM/HcsTo0ldV4o/s400/paris10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287628671094871586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few larger pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4202613915435422726?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4202613915435422726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4202613915435422726&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4202613915435422726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4202613915435422726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-more.html' title='some more'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWFuRZpaNQI/AAAAAAAAACk/Qsi8oe8AaB4/s72-c/paris12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8606973955068952393</id><published>2009-01-04T16:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T16:43:34.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't explain...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUxq0I_I/AAAAAAAAACE/eQIQxsEqT3g/s1600-h/paris+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 86px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUxq0I_I/AAAAAAAAACE/eQIQxsEqT3g/s400/paris+9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287557272463221746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUVwK1-I/AAAAAAAAAB8/I7knQaqcRoM/s1600-h/paris+8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 86px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUVwK1-I/AAAAAAAAAB8/I7knQaqcRoM/s400/paris+8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287557264969488354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUFNKVlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/kjeufKEfE_c/s1600-h/paris+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 86px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUFNKVlI/AAAAAAAAAB0/kjeufKEfE_c/s400/paris+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287557260527687250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite things to do is take pictures. My dream job is to be a photographer.  About two years ago I went to Paris and just recently found the pictures I took and developed them. Every time I see these pictures I want to go back to France, just simply to take some more. I can't explain the satisfaction I get when  I develop a roll of film and sit in a dark room to review my results. Even if my roll comes out bad, seeing the pictures I took puts my mind at ease. The pictures above are just three of my favorites from my trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8606973955068952393?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8606973955068952393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8606973955068952393&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8606973955068952393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8606973955068952393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-cant-explain.html' title='I can&apos;t explain...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SWEtUxq0I_I/AAAAAAAAACE/eQIQxsEqT3g/s72-c/paris+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3170895921408196835</id><published>2009-01-03T14:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T14:19:39.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting..</title><content type='html'>"We could not so much as see the corrals, but we knew the steers were over there, huddled together under the north bank. Our ferocious bulls, subdued enough by this time, were probably warming each other's backs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed reading that the family was having trouble with the bulls fighting, but as soon as they were in danger they stuck together. Much like when people are having problems they tend to stick together, at least until things are good again (then they can get back to fighting).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3170895921408196835?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3170895921408196835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3170895921408196835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3170895921408196835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3170895921408196835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2009/01/interesting.html' title='Interesting..'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8127697315065377814</id><published>2008-12-08T16:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:56:13.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance is Bliss?</title><content type='html'>Recently I had a conversation about the future and whether I would want to see into my future or not. It kind of turned into a chicken or the egg conversation. If I saw my future, like who I was going to marry for example, what if it wasn't who I was dating at the moment? Dating would seem pretty pointless then since I knew it wasn't going to get anywhere, so would I end it, or just try to fight what I saw and stick with it? BUt, the porblem is is there's always the worrying that the vision was right, that the relationship WAS going to end, and the worry would cause me to just be WAITING for the end, and when you're just waiting for the end, eventually it will come. So, if you see into the future, do you carry out the rest of your life according to what you know will happen, resulting in exactly what you saw, or do you fight it, trying to change what you saw, the whole time just waiting for fate to take it's turn and change everything you tried so hard to keep, resulting in the same vision of future? &lt;br /&gt;I've decided I NEVER want to see my future. I think I'd go crazy from the life changing decisions that already were technically decided for me. Ugh. Hurts my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8127697315065377814?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8127697315065377814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8127697315065377814&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8127697315065377814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8127697315065377814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/12/ignorance-is-bliss.html' title='Ignorance is Bliss?'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4684167315064970069</id><published>2008-12-07T18:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T19:10:49.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From Beauty to Beast</title><content type='html'>Katherine Ivanovna grew up in a beautiful home with money and authority. She gave it up for a man who turned into a drunk bastard. The ways in which her life changed drastically and went from beautiful and joyful to ugly and terrible is just one example of how Dosoyevsky uses aesthetics. He tends to take beautiful things and either turn them ugly, or place them in an area that is unworthy of them and knows no beauty. Katherine Ivanovna resents the fact that, "she had been brought up in a 'noble, one might say an aristocratic home, a colonel's home; and what she had been groomed for was not to scrub floors with her own hands or to launder her children's rags at night." Growing up she was used to beautiful things and being surrounded by people of authority and manners. Now, on the day of her husband's funeral, she was surrounded by "a shabby little clerk in a greasy jacket, with blackheads and a repulsive odor, who said nothing; a deaf and almost totally blind old man" and also, "some drunken former lieutenant also showed up, with the loudest, most unpleasant laugh and without a vest" among others. She refers to her guests as sluts and clowns. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Not only is she surrounded by an ugly environment and ugly people, but she herself has become far from beautiful. It was not unusual for Katherine Ivanovna to end up in "an unbearable coughing fit that lasted five minutes." This occurred at her dinner party and when she managed to stop coughing, " There was some blood on her dress, and drops of sweat stood out on her forehead.  She silently showed Raskolnikov the blood."  When Raskolnikov first sees Katherine Ivanovna, he describes her as a delicately built woman, fairly tall and well proportioned, with still attractive dark brown hair." However, he then notes that, " she had grown terribly thin, and her cheeks had turned red as though with stain...lips parched, her breath coming in broken and irregular gasps." It is safe to say that this women use to be fair and pretty but the ugly lifestyle and environment she has unfortunately inhibited gave her beauty no chance of existence and soon turned her ugly not only in appearance but in health and attitude, for she screams at her husband and children constantly.  It is hard to hold on to any beauty you have when you are living in the ugliness of poverty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4684167315064970069?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4684167315064970069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4684167315064970069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4684167315064970069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4684167315064970069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/12/from-beauty-to-beast.html' title='From Beauty to Beast'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-6776148064907217961</id><published>2008-12-05T20:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:28:13.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dostoyevsky</title><content type='html'>words you can make from the letters in Dostoyevsky's name!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sky&lt;br /&gt;stove&lt;br /&gt;toy&lt;br /&gt;key&lt;br /&gt;dost (I think that's Shakespearean language)&lt;br /&gt;vest&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;veto&lt;br /&gt;dove&lt;br /&gt;soy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay I think I have spent enough time on this. I should be writing my blog post on Crime and Punishment but I can't find the list of choices for topics! I have copied them down three times now and always loose them! So if anyone would like to send those my way that would be excellent and I can finally get that darn post over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-6776148064907217961?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/6776148064907217961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=6776148064907217961&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6776148064907217961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6776148064907217961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/12/road-trip.html' title='Dostoyevsky'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4907804665470265413</id><published>2008-12-01T21:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T21:27:19.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Damsel needs a Romantic Hero to Sweep her off her Feet.</title><content type='html'>So I've been putting off this required blog post for an unreasonably long time. &lt;br /&gt;I think vacation got to me and until the reality of school hit again today school was out of the question for the whole week.. plus the fact that I prepared myself for vacation a couple days before the break actually started didn't help me get my work done ahead of time since it's a give in, being the natural procrastinator that I am, that I wouldn't do it any time over vacation until the night before school. And lookie this, it's even a day LATER than my usual procrastinator self.&lt;br /&gt;Any ways, I'm stalling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Svidrigailov's surprise visit to Roskolnikov gives him the wrong first impression. He comes off very blunt and straight forward with a rude air about him. He tells Raskolnikov, without beating around the bush, that he presents himself for two reasons, even having the nerve to make assumptions: "I fancy you won't refuse me a little help in a certain project of mine that touches directly on the intersts of your dear sister... Because of certain prejudices, she wouldn't even admit me into her yard by myself...But with your help...". From accounts told by Dunia and her mother, Svidrigailov had ruined Dunia's pride and reputation, therefore giving both the characters and the reader alike a sense of distrust for Svidrigailov. Personally, Svidrigailov seemed like some kind of perv, and him showing up under such mysterious cercumstances made him seem like a stalker. Instead of being sketchy, Svidrigailov shows a sense of modesty by trying to put him and Roskolnikov on the same level of understanding. He tries to create a friendly atmosphere between the two as opposed to the tension that Raskolnikov stirs up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the conversation goes on between the two characters, Svidrigailov states the idea of whether or not he is "the monster or the victim". In the reader's sense, he would be the monster, but he argues his case that he only followed through with his "disgraceful" actions with the motivation to find mutual happiness for the both of them. Being rejected by a woman, it would seem a man's pride would be injured. Especially with the characters throughout the novel. Pride seems to be a key flaw with many characters, but Svidrigailov doesn't follow this trend. Instead of pursuing  Dunia out of revenge or "cursing" her, he seeks her out and offers his money in the form of an apology: "I make this proposal without any calculation. You may beleive it or not.... Since I'm genuinly sorry, I'd really like.. simply to do her some good. Buying someone off would usually seem like a bribe, especially since it is known that Dunia isn't well off, but he offers it with a sense of kindness. He does it to relieve himself from the guilt, but in the end he gets nothing in return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one chapter of conversation between Svidrigailov and Roskolvikov is one of the most interesing chapters. Svidrigailov becomes an admirable character, putting his shady first impression aside. Although he is offering money as a guilt payment, he does it wanting good for Dunia, not for her love or thanks in return. He accepts her rejection with understanding and gives her a sense of space. He turns out to be a Romantic Hero, trying to save his Damsel in Distress even with her rejection and (understandable) unthankfullness of his actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4907804665470265413?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4907804665470265413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4907804665470265413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4907804665470265413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4907804665470265413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/12/every-damsel-needs-romantic-hero-to.html' title='Every Damsel needs a Romantic Hero to Sweep her off her Feet.'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7135792499970186246</id><published>2008-11-28T20:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T20:45:26.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'>while on vacation..</title><content type='html'>I've been on vacation for the better part of this week and I have gotten &lt;strong&gt;quite&lt;/strong&gt; a bit of reading done. One quote in particular stuck out to me, for no reason except that I found it strangely pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the simile and the feeling it leaves behind. That simple.&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7135792499970186246?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7135792499970186246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7135792499970186246&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7135792499970186246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7135792499970186246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/while-on-vacation.html' title='while on vacation..'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-9108896778167201068</id><published>2008-11-23T15:22:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T11:24:19.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Forget Those Secondary Characters</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Point of View and Secondray Characters in Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crime and Punishment is told mostly by Raskolnikov. This allows the reader to feel the emotions that he is feeling due to his crime. The reader gets the sense of insanity that he starts to feel progressively throughout the book. You can draw the conclusion that he feels isolated from society, and starts to realize that he isn't above moral law from his words. For example&lt;br /&gt;   "he would not have been able to address a single human word to them, so &lt;br /&gt;   abruptly had his feelings been drained. He suddenly felt within himself a&lt;br /&gt;   gloomy sensation of tormented, infinite solitude and estrangement."(Part2;Ch1;p98)&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't be able to understand the emotions that are overcoming Raskolnikov if he wasn't narrating the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from Raskolnikov, there are other important secondary characters in Crime and Punishment. First, Sonya plays a key role in the development of Raskolnikov's story. Her character is parallel to that of Raskolnikov's. This is evident through the fact that they both show sin in their actions. Sonya prostitutes herself out for money, and Raskolnikov murders two innocent women for money. Raskolnikov relates to Sonya and her situation, but does not let himself reconize that there is a key difference in their sins. Sonya's sin is a sacrafice for the sake of supporting her family, and Raskolnikov sins only for his own sake. Sonya is an important secondary character because she is a way for Dostoyevsky to show proverty, importance of faith in family and religion, and the poor treatment of women in the time frame this book is set in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another important secondary character in this novel is Svidrigailov. He may be considered a villan in the novel, but all the same is vital to the development of Raskolnikov's story. He becomes a better person with the death of his wife, and shows many good deeds. He is rough on the outside, but has generous attitude on this inside. He has his own thoughts and opinions that prove to be Dostoyevsky's more in depth analysis of the hardships that Russia is going through during the time period. An example of this is shown when Svidrigailov explains his vision of the enternity that you encounter after death. He explains it as " a single little room-a bathhouse in one of our backwater villages [..] sooty, spiders in all corners-and that's all there is to eternity."(Part4;Ch1;p277). I see this as an allusion to the condition that Russia is in during that time frame. Svidrigailov's bluntness is exatly what the book is in need of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the character's in Crime and Punishment were purposely added by Dostoyvesky to show the troubled times in Russia's past. They help make allusions to the proverty that Russia is stricken with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KMART:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-9108896778167201068?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/9108896778167201068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=9108896778167201068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9108896778167201068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9108896778167201068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/dont-forget-those-secondary-characters.html' title='Don&apos;t Forget Those Secondary Characters'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5421587895926375311</id><published>2008-11-18T22:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T22:28:09.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Independance Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>For those who hate exclamation points, I'm sorry but I couldn't express my excitment in any other way.. for today.. actually tomorrow.. I am BUYING a CAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who don't know, I had a B-E-A-Yu-Tee-Full Kia whom I loved very dearly, but unfortunatly she met her end in front of Old Mill when she was impacted badly from the side by a little red junker. I'm not gunna lie.. I cried for a month after. Not only did I loose my car but I lost a hugggge sense of freedom. My dad asked why it was such a big deal seeing as four months before I was in the same situation: stranded aka car-less.. but to put in perspective for all those teen drivers: Imagine having NO car. I know that's not much of a description but when you go from having the independance of having your own car to all of a sudden relying back on the parentals for rides or bumming rides off of friends.. or. heaven forbid taking the bus.. you really start to appreciate the freedom you have in a set of keys.&lt;br /&gt;So.. I am thankful for the past year I had without a car. Although it hurt my bank account to loose the car in the first place.. and now to replace it with another one.. it was nice to really see how much to apreciate something.. plus.. I have bad anxieties when I feel stranded.. I can't enjoy myself becuase I'm so stuck on the idea that I CANT be somewhere even if I wanted to. Eventually I got over that and now .. weirdly.. I appreciate being home more than I ever did cause I was never around to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... in conclusion: I am thankful for the year I had as a carless teen but glad to be back in the club... and yes my new 99 Ford Escort that I am buying for 500 dollars (plus about a million more for the gas and insurance I will be paying on it) is a little on the junker side.. I feel that I will love it and cherish it and I am happy to have my on the road independance back :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5421587895926375311?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5421587895926375311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5421587895926375311&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5421587895926375311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5421587895926375311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/independance-day.html' title='Independance Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8166865154978778607</id><published>2008-11-18T16:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T16:53:06.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta - Geto Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check it out.. it has been stuck in my head all day.&lt;br /&gt;if your interested in some other good beats...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerk It Out - The Caesars&lt;br /&gt;Bruises - Chairlift&lt;br /&gt;Love Lockdown - Kanye West&lt;br /&gt;Humans - Killers&lt;br /&gt;Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon&lt;br /&gt;Human After All- Daft Punk&lt;br /&gt;Don't Want to Hurt You - The Sounds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has basically been my playlist lately.&lt;br /&gt;-kmart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8166865154978778607?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8166865154978778607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8166865154978778607&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8166865154978778607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8166865154978778607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/damn-it-feels-good-to-be-gangsta-geto.html' title=''/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5325966849215876276</id><published>2008-11-18T12:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T12:43:15.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The root word of Nonsense is sense.</title><content type='html'>"I love nonsense! Talking nonsense is man's only privilege that distinguishes him from all other organisms. If you keep talking big nonsense, you will get to sense!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this because it seems that I talk a lot of nonsense sometimes, and though it may not seem productive, Razumikhin is right; Talk enough nonsense and you will start making sense!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5325966849215876276?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5325966849215876276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5325966849215876276&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5325966849215876276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5325966849215876276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-love-nonsense-talking-nonsense-is.html' title='The root word of Nonsense is sense.'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-1718084834211521101</id><published>2008-11-17T17:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T17:30:57.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reply to MS: Obama? Anti-Christ? Whaa?</title><content type='html'>So I was reading MS's post, "Nothing to do with Literature", and was writing a comment on it and was elaborating so much so I decided to just do a new post. To see where it origins from just &lt;a href="http://mschroniclogorrhea.blogspot.com/"&gt;check out&lt;/a&gt; her blog page... I am also sorry if the post gets too relgiious but I think relgion is a fun and debatable topic... sorry to those who disagree:&lt;br /&gt;    But I think her post is especially interesting because I was just talking about the whole theory of Obama being the anti Christ. I know someone who is very religious and, although I am a Christian also, they take the bible way literally then I think anyone should, especially, the last section, Revelations, telling about the end of the world. She feels that the end of the world is upon us, and I don't agree with her, but I feel that her theory has more support behind it then I want to admit, making it hard to argue against her, even though it's incredibly radical. I enjoy hearing theories though and I think it's interesting. After reading the Left Behind books, which is a series based on Revelations but made more into a narrative action series, I know a lot about the whole idea of the Rapture without reading the bible. It is prophsized that the anti-christ will be a leader who appeals to many and will gather an amazing amount of followers. He is predicted to gain fame out of no where, meaning he will be no one but in, say, two years later, be greatly known. The next step is to create a universal government, a system based on the unity of everyone, inlcuding one unified relgion and so on, and with the anti christ having such charisma and appeal, he is nominated to be the leader of the universal government.&lt;br /&gt;Of course that much of a detailed acount is through the narrative, but the Anti-Christ's purpose is to turn away humans from God, to defy him. In doing this he has to appeal and unify the world. The book describes him as having "a mouth speaking great things". On a &lt;a href="http://www.countdown.org/armageddon/antichrist.htm"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; based off the idea of the Rapture and Revelations, it says, "The Antichrist will rise to power on a wave of world euphoria, as he temporarily saves the world from its desperate economic, military &amp; political problems with a brilliant 7-year plan for world peace, economic stability &amp; religious freedom". He will receive the support of many nations and for a while, "... most of the world is going to think he is wonderful, as he will seem to have solved so many of the world's problems".&lt;br /&gt;     Now, of course this winds onto the path of relgion and theories which can get kind of messy... but talking with person A (my friend) abotu this, it was just weird. She was saying how Obama was a Senator and had political background, but just in the past couple years has his name been known, and now he's going to be Preident. He grew an amazing amount of followers throughout his presidential campaign, whether it be his charisma that made his speaking talents appealing, or his slogan of bringing hope to a nation that is well in the need of it. We are in an economic crisis and we have lost much of the faith in ourselves because of the discourging war and the loss of support in our current President, and&lt;a href="http://www.americablog.com/2008/11/obamas-acceptance-speech.html"&gt;Obama&lt;/a&gt; enters the scene and promises  to, " always be honest with [America] about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years", restoring the hope that our nation is going to be rebuilt and him being the hero to lead us there. He also says, "Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long...And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too", which person A said followed his idea of unity. He appeals to African Americans, which brings more minorities into the support group than ever, also since he has a Muslim background, and I know it was when he was very young and he isn't Muslim now, but some might find this relatable and therefore support him. He brings many people together through their support that would not come together otherwise. Also, he is already closly affiliated with many foriegn officials through visiting while campaigning. According to some, his begining steps of his Presidential career are much like those predicted of the Anti-Christ when he comes to power. And let me repeat if it is not clear: I DO NOT STATE THESE AS MY VIEWS OR ARGUE THIS THEORY. I jsut think it's interesting to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-1718084834211521101?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/1718084834211521101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=1718084834211521101&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1718084834211521101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1718084834211521101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/reply-to-ms.html' title='Reply to MS: Obama? Anti-Christ? Whaa?'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8349288059992601953</id><published>2008-11-16T20:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T20:34:02.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Word From The Wise</title><content type='html'>I recieved these words in a workshop, entitled Ways of Council: Wilderness Ceremonies in an Increasingly Crazy World, that I had during the MYAN Peer Leadership Conference that I attened with MASK. When I read the title to the workshop that I was placed in, I thought that it was going to be dumb, but it turned out to be the most beneficial one I attended. It taught you ways to relax, and to feel more connected to nature. He gave us this handout. It had some of the best advice I have heard in a while, I thought I would share it with you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drink less soda. AVOID CREDIT CARDS. SEEK CRITICS. MATH IS UNDERRATED. enbrace your weirdness. TAKE CARE OF YOUR TEETH. VOLUNTEERING MAKES YOU RICH. EMBRACE A HOBBY you will never master. TAKE YOUR PHOTO every year. POPULARITY IS FLEETING. OVERDRESS. tattoo removal hurts even more. KINDESS COMES BACK. EVERYONE LIKES THE GUY WITH THE GUITAR. LOTTERY TICKES ARE FOR SUCKERS. YOUR VOTE WILL REALLY MATTER. ITS OK TO ASK FOR HELP. never let your job description DEFINE YOU. BUY LAND. NOT BEER. forgive your parents. they were just kids. THE WORLD NEEDS HOPE. not hype. BE GLAD YOU DID. not wish you had. be the change you want to see.  ALWAYS KNOW YOUR TRUE INTENTION. if mama ain't happy. AIN'T NOBODY HAPPY. remember to take many deep breaths. ALWAYS have a DOG buddy nearby. make more messes when YOU PAINT. YOU DON'T HAVE TO COLOR within the lines. wake up a bit earlier THAN YOU MIGHT WANT. people are not perfect. don't be in SUCH A RUSH. you'd be suprised what TASTES GOOD. bullies end up PUMPING GAS. expertise is relative. NAPPING helps thinking. embrace KARAOKE. shame is always useless. be on the side of the ANIMALS. GROW YOUR OWN TOMATOES.  trust your gut. floss. OTHERS WILL THINK what they want; do it ANYWAY. take a sabbatical now and again. listening TRUMPS TALKING everytime. give the benefit of the doubt. art IS A DOOR NOT A WINDOW. trust yourself-you'll FIGURE IT OUT. fearing change KEEPS YOUR GLASS HALF EMPTY. lose being careful; careful being loose. there's NEVER A WIZARD BEHIND THE CURTAIN. sit up STRAIGHT-seriously! LIVE EVERY DAY like you'll die TOMORROW. dont worry so much and have fun. FACT OF LIFE: image matters. LOOK FOR THE BEST IN everybody. BE TRUE to yourself. slouching looks terrible at 40. WHATEVER you do just MAKE IT BEAUTIFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KMART:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8349288059992601953?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8349288059992601953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8349288059992601953&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8349288059992601953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8349288059992601953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/word-from-wise.html' title='A Word From The Wise'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-9048593246799563829</id><published>2008-11-16T19:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T20:00:41.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Death of Me (continued)</title><content type='html'>This blog will be the death of me. i never know what to post, and when to post. and it just stresses me out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-9048593246799563829?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/9048593246799563829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=9048593246799563829&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9048593246799563829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9048593246799563829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/death-of-me-continued.html' title='The Death of Me (continued)'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7256104488443275595</id><published>2008-11-15T23:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T23:11:49.134-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ekkkk</title><content type='html'>While reading, I feel like I want to shut Raskolnikov up when he gets the urges to blurt out that he murdered the ladies. This book really stresses me out. This novel seems like one of the only situations where I find myself cheering of the bad guy. I mean, he committed murders to "better the world" but regardless he murdered two people. The uncontrollable, unsure side of Raskolnikov ticks me off. I just wish I could help keep his secret for him, for whatever reason. The worst part of the novel is the anxiety I felt when he wanted to run over to the police station and turn himself in. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING BUDDY?! Thank goodness he got distracted by the guy that got ran over by the horse (which was completely random).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also like how Dostoyevsky adds things into the novel that kind of lets you know he grew up around a mental hospital. It's really interesting. For example when he talks about how he can point out a person that is mentally not healthy and how he mentions a lot about justification. It's all very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all..&lt;br /&gt;Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7256104488443275595?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7256104488443275595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7256104488443275595&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7256104488443275595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7256104488443275595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/ekkkk.html' title='Ekkkk'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-9011047490169139576</id><published>2008-11-13T20:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T20:27:05.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>QUESTION???</title><content type='html'>Could it be that the poem "Living in Sin" could be written by Adrienne Rich instead of Pastan? Or am I just not looking this up correctly. I know this probably isn't what I was suppose to do, but I just typed it into Google to read the poem (because I haven't been to the library yet) and nothing really pops up for "Living in Sin" Pastan. I don't know. I'll hit the library tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s i posted about this because i figured someone would be able to help me through blogging faster than email/or in person. yay blogs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-9011047490169139576?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/9011047490169139576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=9011047490169139576&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9011047490169139576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/9011047490169139576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/question.html' title='QUESTION???'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5857841923358858293</id><published>2008-11-12T07:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T07:18:22.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tourists</title><content type='html'>"'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Everybody's&lt;/span&gt; getting rich one way or another; so I wanted to get rich quick too.' I don't remember the exact words, but the idea was he wanted something for nothing, and quick, without work!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote comes from "Crime and Punishment" and reminds me of the customers I get at Calvin Klein. They want something for nothing and try to bargain for whatever they want. No, it doesn't work like that in this store, it shouldn't work like that anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5857841923358858293?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5857841923358858293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5857841923358858293&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5857841923358858293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5857841923358858293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/tourists.html' title='Tourists'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-84688749897306768</id><published>2008-11-09T13:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T13:46:53.939-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanitary</title><content type='html'>So... I was at work today, as I am every Sunday, enjoying my 5-12 shift at Dunkin Donuts. I've been there three years, so I'm pretty much an expert when it comes to serving costomers their coffee and donuts, occasionally a bagel or sandwich, too. There was a new kid on the job today, and as he was filling the ice bin that holds a crap ton of ice for ice coffee, he started to use his hands to level out the top layer. I started cracking up, because of course you can't pet the ice with your hands! I mean I would like to think we all wash our hands after any dirty task, and I'm sure he wasn't wiping sickening bacteria on the ice, but still. It's like grabbing the donuts with your hand and handing it to a costomer. We take such precautions to NOT touch people's food. It made me think about why Americans trust the fast food industry so much. Now.. not to brag or anything... but our manager has done a really good job with the store and taking control or a store of teenagers and we all learn to keep things sanitary and wear gloves and wash hands... you get it.. but I highly doubt every store is like that.. there's plenty of times im sure it's tempting to pick up something without a glove. What about McDonalds, burger king, wendys? all those healthy food places ya know? There's always teenagers working these places, a lot who are there making minimum wage not giving a crap about who they're handing things out too, so picking a dropped burger bun off the ground might not mean a thing, jsut another whopper out the drive thru window. So why do Americans trust all these teenagers so much?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we're all just too lazy to make our own food and coffee that concern about what's REALLY touching our food, let alone what's IN the food (the usual argument), goes out the window.&lt;br /&gt;This argument might be incredibly stupid but I have been deep in thought about it.&lt;br /&gt;hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-84688749897306768?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/84688749897306768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=84688749897306768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/84688749897306768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/84688749897306768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/sanitary.html' title='Sanitary'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7743229501996329688</id><published>2008-11-08T12:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T12:30:39.704-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Not Cruel, Only Truthful</title><content type='html'>"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.&lt;br /&gt; Whatever I see, I swallow immediately.&lt;br /&gt; Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike&lt;br /&gt; I am not cruel, only truthful –"&lt;br /&gt;-Sylvia Plath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first stanza of "Mirror" which is the poem I must analyze for class. These first couple lines are awesome. The speaker, which is a mirror, blankly states what it does. It sees things and reflects them without choice. I love the concept that the mirror is only truthful. You may not always like what it shows you, but it is not altered by the worlds opinions and love and hate, it is honest, even when you don't want it to be. We are so used to fraud opinions and the bitter truth is often sugar coated with white lies, that the mirror is a reality check because it only knows what is right in front of it, and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7743229501996329688?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7743229501996329688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7743229501996329688&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7743229501996329688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7743229501996329688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-am-not-cruel-only-truthful.html' title='I Am Not Cruel, Only Truthful'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-2626915548853370390</id><published>2008-11-07T18:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T18:52:19.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Art</title><content type='html'>So we had a discussion in Art class today about art (weird right?). My teacher likes to give us example of art that follow along the guidelines of our next asignment, which happens to be abstract. A psychedelic picture came up with lots of flouresently colored circles and everyone immediatly thought of the sixties, which moved us on to the topic of culture and its effect on art and vise versa. The argument came up of wether art was influnced by culture, or as my teacher said, art changes first.. and change in culture follows. She said even change in music comes after art. So this made me really wish that I knew something about art. You could stick something from Picasso in front of me and I wouldn't know the difference between that or something painted yesterday. It's not so much I wish I knew art but I wish I understood the cultural effect it had. I love looking back on the history of music and directly relate events of history to certain songs, but in art.. it's just whether or not i see a fish or a bunch of squiggly lines. The more abstract idea I conceived from this whole conversation is how art is changing now, modern day art, that will somehow change and influence the culture later. So now I am looking up modern art on Google Images hoping to be better informed on the modern day art of our culture.&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I hate wanting to be sophisticated and full of knowledge. Such effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-2626915548853370390?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/2626915548853370390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=2626915548853370390&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2626915548853370390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2626915548853370390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/modern-art.html' title='Modern Art'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-2022783203260256848</id><published>2008-11-03T22:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T22:36:14.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The death of me</title><content type='html'>This essay we were assigned it going to be the death of me. I dont know what to research. I dont know what to write about. I dont know how to start. Its 10:30 and I can't do anything productive with this darn essay. So I'm blogging. I don't remember The Rivals. It's all a blur to me. King Lear is now my best friend. Which is the most horrifying thing I have ever said. So goodbye everyone, because this paper is seriously going to kill me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-2022783203260256848?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/2022783203260256848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=2022783203260256848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2022783203260256848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2022783203260256848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/death-of-me.html' title='The death of me'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-2948609820174513093</id><published>2008-11-03T12:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T13:03:30.432-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess its not so bad...</title><content type='html'>In years past, every time I heard the title Crime and Punishment, I have dreaded the day that I would have to read it. So that fateful day came sometime last week. I was handed the dreaded thick, red book and told to read the first 80 or so pages. When I began the book, I quickly realized that it was actually an easy read. I could understand what was going on and I really didn't mind reading it. Although it is filled with poverty stricken people, young girls who are forced to turn to prostitution, and even murder, the plot is interesting and easy to follow. The depressing story catches your attention and makes you want to read more. I am actually eager to find out what happens to the protagonist, whose name I cannot spell or pronounce. The only downfall to this story so fall is the difficult Russian names. I find myself skipping over them because I can't even begin to pronounce these foreign names. Overall, this book isn't such a burden after all, and hopefully I will feel the same way about it as I continue to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-2948609820174513093?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/2948609820174513093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=2948609820174513093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2948609820174513093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2948609820174513093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-guess-its-not-so-bad.html' title='I guess its not so bad...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-2577204478789749023</id><published>2008-10-28T21:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T21:40:07.417-04:00</updated><title type='text'>books books books</title><content type='html'>Following in my class mates steps my five books would have to be:&lt;br /&gt;-Me Talk Pretty One Day (no matter what that book will forever make me laugh)&lt;br /&gt;-The Five People You Meet in Heaven&lt;br /&gt;-A Northern Light&lt;br /&gt;-some sort of biography of Ansel Adams&lt;br /&gt;-Catch 22&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who have not read Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, do so.&lt;br /&gt;"I had no job at the time and was living off the cruel joke I referred to as my savings." So sarcastic...perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-2577204478789749023?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/2577204478789749023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=2577204478789749023&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2577204478789749023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2577204478789749023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/books-books-books.html' title='books books books'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8293650142245343372</id><published>2008-10-28T06:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T07:05:58.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the five people you meet in heaven</title><content type='html'>"I figure it's like in the Bible, the Adam and Eve deal. Adam's first night on earth? When he lays down to sleep? He thinks it's all over, right? He doesn't know what sleep is. His eyes are closing and he thinks he's leaving this world, right? Only he isn't He wakes up the next morning and he has a fresh new world to work with, but he has something else, too. He has his yesterdays. The way I see it, that's what we're getting here, soldier. That's what heaven is. You get to make sense of your yesterdays."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage is from one of my favorite books "The Five People you Meet in Heaven". I read this book years ago when my grandmother passed away and many many times since then. Every time I read it I find some new outlook that I missed the last time and I just love that about it. It's refreshing to hear different outlooks on afterlife. I'm not very religious so my mind is just full of questions and ideas about what happens after one dies. I really enjoyed reading Mitch Albom's version of Heaven and would highly suggest this quick read to someone looking for a short book.&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8293650142245343372?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8293650142245343372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8293650142245343372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8293650142245343372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8293650142245343372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/five-people-you-meet-in-heaven.html' title='the five people you meet in heaven'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5131567674495899689</id><published>2008-10-24T07:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T07:17:16.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sooo..</title><content type='html'>So...&lt;br /&gt;I did indeed write a sonnet for Monday but, it was far to sad to read in class. You see, one of my dearest friends past way in May and I wrote about it in my English class last year at Kennebunk (it was an assigned paper). While reading it to my class I started to bawl my eyes out. I made a pact with myself that if I chose to write about him again that I wouldn't read it aloud unless I thought my tears could stay put.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After writing my Sonnet I thought I could do it, until I told KMART about it and started tearing up. Then I decided that I would just lie and say I didn't have it. But, then during class I found out that I didn't rhyme it write anyways so...it wasn't really a sonnet until just last night when I switched it up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vent session done by&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5131567674495899689?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5131567674495899689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5131567674495899689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5131567674495899689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5131567674495899689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/sooo.html' title='sooo..'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-1560266558537485690</id><published>2008-10-23T18:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T18:50:03.039-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I do during dance class...</title><content type='html'>So I wrote the sonnet while I was annoyingly watching my dance class because I sprained my darn ankle and cant dance this week. I working really hard on it, then left it in my pants pocket, therefore I didn't have it for class on the day it was due. As my intellectual classmates read their sonnets in class, I was informed that in order to be a legitimate sonnet, it had to rhyme (durr da durr). I should have known. So I reworked my lovely sonnet. It's sad, and not as fantastical as some of the other poetic geniuses', but that's okay, I tried my best. It now rhymes, but I'm not sure all of the lines make sense. I'm no Shakespeare that's for sure, but honestly, who is? Yeah, so that is what I have to say about my sonnet. I had some trouble writting it, but it now meets all of the requirements. Hope you enjoy my sad, rhyming, fourteen line, iambic pentameter poem that may not make a whole lot of sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-1560266558537485690?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/1560266558537485690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=1560266558537485690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1560266558537485690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1560266558537485690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-i-do-during-dance-class.html' title='What I do during dance class...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7891875750762424885</id><published>2008-10-20T17:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T17:14:23.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Its okay "rae"....I still think that you are purgalicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7891875750762424885?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7891875750762424885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7891875750762424885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7891875750762424885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7891875750762424885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-okay-rae.html' title=''/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3456423738695052461</id><published>2008-10-19T21:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T21:17:21.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>stupid fourteen liner</title><content type='html'>So... I'm Done.&lt;br /&gt;I finished.&lt;br /&gt;My sonnet has all the dotted i's and crossed t's and I think I made my own requirements [Or I could take the route of saying "they were more of guidelines anyways" (Oh, Captain Jack Sparrow.. MUST love Johnny Depp with eyeliner)] as opposed to the "Official" rules of Sonnet-ting as expressed by R-ski:&lt;br /&gt;fourtreen lines&lt;br /&gt;all having the iambic pentameter deal&lt;br /&gt;with the stresses (correctly placed??)&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;I have fourteen lines.. check...&lt;br /&gt;I have ten syllables per line... so maybe half check...&lt;br /&gt;aaaanddd... about this little iambic pentameter deal... well i dont understand the point, concept, or generally what a stress is. I mean I read back my sonnet and every other syllable I made it sound more stressed then the previous?&lt;br /&gt;Reading this in front of the class might make me look like a total idiot with my stressing of the stressing.&lt;br /&gt;But... I finished. And that's important.&lt;br /&gt;I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3456423738695052461?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3456423738695052461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3456423738695052461&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3456423738695052461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3456423738695052461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/stupid-fourteen-liner.html' title='stupid fourteen liner'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4600410157624607272</id><published>2008-10-18T16:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T16:15:53.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mid-Blog Crisis!</title><content type='html'>So I'm getting sick of typing purgalicious and think that rae is a nickname I use more commonly anyways... so I'm going through a mid-blog crisis and changing my pen name.&lt;br /&gt;Just to clear any confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rae&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4600410157624607272?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4600410157624607272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4600410157624607272&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4600410157624607272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4600410157624607272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/mid-blog-crisis.html' title='Mid-Blog Crisis!'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4895503857924254699</id><published>2008-10-16T19:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T09:58:04.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the things Billy gets away with...</title><content type='html'>So, going back to those retched days of reading Shakespeare... a week ago... I reflect on the fact that no matter what I read, it was understood that Shakespeare wrote it, so it must be true. Now, after being asked the question for this blog:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; What are the improbabilities or illogical events in "King Lear", and what impact do they have on the general effect of the tragedy?&lt;/span&gt;, I realized that within Shakespeare's genius writing style, he likes to add those little "gotchas" that he can get away with, being a genius and all. I think he likes using the confusing (understandment) language so he can hide a totally unlikey event (uhh.. Gloucester's fall? Puhleese) into such a confusing turn of events it seems absolutly logical at the moment. Now, I'm no expert on falling off cliffs, but the gravitational force I'm sure would be more than noticable, along with the rushing wind, the feeling of falling, and the agonizing end when reaching the bottom. No person in their right mind would fall for the fact that they fell, half a second later hit ground, only to feel a slight impact and maybe a bloody nose. This might be just the impact  our genius friend was looking for. Gloucester wasn't quite in his right mind. He's following the imsainity trend, although maybe not to the same extent as Lear (he still favored clothing). Gloucester's fall was not only a physical fall of course, but also a metaphorical fall. He realizes his false anger towards Edgar and regrets the judgments he made, also being hurt by the betrayal of the son he trusted and loved. Being blind helps him see the world a lot clearer. The fall symbolizes a change in Gloucester's views, which of course changes his course in life from there on out, so although he was physically alive, a part of his spirit "died" while being replaced by a new view and optomism.&lt;br /&gt;Following in his father's footsteps, literally in this case, is Edgar. Not only is he the "Master in Disguise", but he's quite the magician when it comes to teleportation. From the sounds of the distribution to the three daughters, Lear's kingdom is no South Berwick or Eliot. So, how is it that King Lear and company, Gloucester included, just happen upon Edgar's hovel in the forest. Not only that, but Edgar, disguised as a phesant, runs into his father who is later on being escorted after having his eyes gourged out. I think there is way more coincidence going on in this kingdom then necessary. Of course, without Edgar running into his father and disappearing like he was supposed to following Edmund's advice, his character wouldn't have such a lasting effect throughout the story, adding the occasional irony of his father talking to him, about him, as if he were some poor phesant, along with the fact that Edgar pretty much saves the day in the end, so I mean thank God for Edgar, but it still makes no sense. What is even more frusterated about Edgar is his ability to lower his clothing status and all of a sudden become a new person. Modern day disguises take a few plastic surgeons to work completly.  It might have been the movie that ruined the idea, since his only difference was a hair cut, but even in the play it sounded as if he went from silk to rags and all of a sudden became unrecognizable.&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to Edgar's brother (improbability runs in the family), how exactly is he getting away with his love affairs with both sisters? Not only are they both aware of it, but so is Goneril's husband (in the movie she went as far to "show her affections" right in front of her own husband). If you think about this in a normal, modern day life, your standing by watching as a neighborly friend is making moves on both your mom and your aunt and your dad is asking the neighborly friend and your mother to move their make out session from in front of the tv. How is everyone so nonchelant with what's going on? It does have a huge effect on the outcome of the play though, like the fact that the two sisters both end up death over jealousy issues.&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess when reflected on, Billy has once again proved his genius. He gets away with putting improbable events in the play by allowing them to create the necesary ending in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-purgalicious&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4895503857924254699?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4895503857924254699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4895503857924254699&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4895503857924254699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4895503857924254699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-things-billy-gets-away-with.html' title='Oh the things Billy gets away with...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-1101193424974885390</id><published>2008-10-16T11:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T12:21:24.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When did we choose this question: King Lear Investigation</title><content type='html'>I have no memory of choosing this question, that aside here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question:&lt;br /&gt;What are the improbabilities or illogical events in King Lear, and what impact do they have on the general effect of the tragedy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edgar. Edgar is improbable. He always appears in the most strange of places. For example when the storm is taking place, Edgar comes in to be the support system. Also, right after Gloucester got his eyes taken out Edgar appears again to shine some light onto the situation. He seems to have a way of showing the silver lining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just seems improbable to me because where is he coming from. If everyone in this time period had the speed that Edgar apparently had, no one would need to be a messenger because they could run to their desired locations even faster. If Edgar were not able to find the trouble so easily though, the play would have no narrative because when people are alone with no eyes they would have no one to talk to about their problems. Edgar helped build his fathers confidence after randomly showing up conveniently in the same place as his newly crippled father. Gloucester was feeling belittled and worthless. Edgar added to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;improbability&lt;/span&gt; by pretending his father fell down a cliff/hill and then pretended to be someone else to let Gloucester know how strong he must be if he could handle a fall that would have killed anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW COULD GLOUCESTER BELIEVE THIS? This is completely illogical. Edgar is Gloucester's son how could he not recognize that the person he was talking to was the same person? It does not make sense at all. That wouldn't happen...couldn't happen. Gloucester would know if he had fallen down a hill and would know who he was talking to if it were his own son. Right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-1101193424974885390?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/1101193424974885390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=1101193424974885390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1101193424974885390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1101193424974885390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/when-did-we-choose-this-question-king.html' title='When did we choose this question: King Lear Investigation'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3292652801029578566</id><published>2008-10-16T11:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T12:16:53.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Impacts of the Improbable Events in King Lear</title><content type='html'>Q: What are the improbabilities or illogical events in King Lear, and what impact do they have on the general effect of the tragedy?&lt;br /&gt;A:  King Lear is full of events that just couldn't happen in real life. Some of it's most important concepts are based around just plain silly events.&lt;br /&gt;        The first illogical  event that I will pick out of Shakespeare's King Lear, is the fact that King Lear and his wife couldn't have any offspring that were boys. All she had were three girls. Then King Lear gives up his power by splitting up his kingdom between the three women. This is what causes all of the misfortunate series of events in King Lear's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Second,  Edgar always seem to be in the right place at the right time. When  he ends up in the shack King Lear takes refuge in during the storm, and when Gloucester is thrown out onto the streets after his eyes have been gauged out. He is there to save the day at the most random parts of the books. It actually seems as though most the time the characters meet up in this play on accident. After Gloucester has taken his "fall", and Edgar and Gloucester are together in Dover, King Lear randomly comes into the scene. Each of these people random meeting up brought something new to the play. When Lear runs into Gloucester and Edgar in Dover, We see further that Gloucester is letting himself lose his mind, and wants to let go just like King Lear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Third ( the most unbelievable event of all) is Gloucester's "fall". Okay, seriously who thinks  they have fallen of a huge cliff after just tripping over yourself. This is ridiculous. But it is important to the play because it slowly shows Gloucester letting go, and wanting to end his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KMart:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3292652801029578566?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3292652801029578566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3292652801029578566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3292652801029578566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3292652801029578566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/impacts-of-improbable-events-in-king.html' title='The Impacts of the Improbable Events in King Lear'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4482169490575062159</id><published>2008-10-16T11:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T16:21:13.167-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Illogical Yet Necessary</title><content type='html'>Q. What are the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;improbabilities&lt;/span&gt; or illogical events in King Lear, and what impact do they have on the general effect of the tragedy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Shakespeare allows the tragedy to expand and the drama to thicken by using many improbable or illogical events. Although these events could never actually occur, they impact the general effect of the tragedy. Each thing just seems to fall into place perfectly to magnify the events that makes "King Lear" the tragedy it was meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;When Gloucester gets his eyes gouged out, a number of improbable things occur.  As Gloucester wanders around in agony, it is very convenient that Edgar quickly stumbles upon his poor father. It seems to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;reoccurring&lt;/span&gt; act of luck that each character happens to be exactly in the right spot at exactly the right time. Edgar also happened to come upon Lear and the other characters in the storm by chance. Another example of this type of illogical event is when Lear shows up right after Gloucester supposedly falls from the cliffs. Each character always meets up with other characters when convenient. It is completely improbable, but if it didn't happen the important events would not have been able to take place, like Edgar saving his father from jumping of a real cliff.&lt;br /&gt;Gloucester believes that Edgar is a peasant and asks him to take him to the cliffs of Dover so that he can jump of and take his own life. When they are walking, Edgar easily convinces his father that they are walking up a steep hill when the ground is really level.  When Gloucester questions this, he quickly puts it out of mind when Edgar says, "Why then your other senses grow imperfect/ By your eyes anguish," (110). Also, with little argument, Edgar convinces Gloucester that he fell from the high cliffs of Dover, when in reality he just fell over on level ground. "'Have I fallen or no?' 'From the dread summit of this chalky bourn,'" (112). The fact that Gloucester fell for these lies to easily is so illogical, however, if it wasn't so then Gloucester would have tried to kill himself again. After this occurred, Gloucester believed that the Gods saved his life and that he had a reason to live.&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that was very hard to believe while reading this Shakespearean play was that by putting a little disguise on or changing your voice can make you completely unrecognizable. Edgar put on an act as a peasant,  and apparently a darn good one; but honestly, could he really trick is own father? Even before Gloucester had his eyes violently removed he couldn't recognize his son. Also, Lear had no clue that his servant was really Kent, a man he had known for years, which is highly unlikely. I'm quite sure that their disguises weren't even that good considering the day and age. However, if these characters were recognized for who they truly were, the plot would have been completely ruined. These characters needed to stay in the story and the lives of the other characters, and to do so, Shakespeare made it so their identities stayed hidden.&lt;br /&gt;The fact that each character magically showed up in every important situation, the silly and unlikely trickery and the bad but believable disguises are all improbable and illogical, however, it is all completely necessary.  Shakespeare knew what he was doing, and although we may read the play and think to ourselves, "that would never happen," we have no right to question this famous play. Illogical events are what makes the plot successful and how Shakespeare intended it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4482169490575062159?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4482169490575062159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4482169490575062159&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4482169490575062159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4482169490575062159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/illogical-yet-necessary.html' title='Illogical Yet Necessary'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-99229245720819016</id><published>2008-10-09T08:58:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T11:10:11.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great and  Mind Boggling Arendt</title><content type='html'>This week it was my turn to write a paper on the essay for class. The article that I read was Hannah Arendt's "The Gap Between Past and Future." It was very interesting, but hard to understand. I kind of got a few interpretations out of it rather than just one solid one, which I guess is good because like I said in a previous blog, the more interpretaions, the more knowledge we obtain...usually. I believe that Arendt, when talking about the gap, was referring to the present in a way. There is no such thing as the present if you really think about it. This was one of the most mind boggling concept that I came across while reading this essay. Everything that we think, everything that we do or see instantly becomes our past. It also shapes our future. One point that I made in my own essay was that the present is irrelevant. Now this is arguable, and it is something I have never really pondered myself and it makes my head hurt a little. Another statement that Arendt made that really made me think was that if something has no name it doesn't exist. This gives language such a great authority, which in a way gives us authority and power. Overall I believe that Arendt's thoughts and statements were bold and very in depth and I loved it. She made me think more than any other author has before and I feel like I got so much out of this essay and I'm sure I will obtain this knowledge forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-99229245720819016?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/99229245720819016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=99229245720819016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/99229245720819016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/99229245720819016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-week-it-was-my-turn-to-write-paper.html' title='The Great and  Mind Boggling Arendt'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-6992468523758181047</id><published>2008-10-06T21:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T21:57:36.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunsets aren't always necessary...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;So...I'm watching Walk the Line right now and Johnny Cash seems like the ultimate A-Hole right about now. What I find weird is that in the movie Ray, Ray turned out to be the same druggie-womanizer that Johnny Cash finds himself becoming becuase of the influence of fame. I mean, I understand they made good music and maybe there's some interests in their history and how they reached their climax of fame, but why make a movie that, to me, makes me just look at them in a very different way, but not in any better of a light. I get disappointed in finding out that while they were being looked up to by millions for their influence through music, they were cheating on their wives, getting themselves into drugs, and losing their souls to the path to fame. Obviously no ones perfect, and seeing a movie about a person's life shows who they really were, but I really don't want to see how much of a disappointment their life was. I don't usually consider myself one of those "need a happy-ending and a ride into the sunset to be satisfied" type movie people, I can take a few deaths and dissapointments at the closing scenes, but I'd so much rather see movies, like Freedom Writers for example, that leaves you walking away with a feeling of optomism towards the good in people and the hope they carry in life, along with their ability to spread it. So, why make a million dollar Hollywood Production on something that we see in the daily People magazine? Their voice might produce a unique sound and some good tunes, and the story of their path to fame might be a good one, but leave it at that. I don't want to know the corruption and unhappiness that followed them until the end. Doesn't leave a good light on the people we have all admired for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-purgalicious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-6992468523758181047?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/6992468523758181047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=6992468523758181047&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6992468523758181047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/6992468523758181047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/sunsets-arent-always-necessary.html' title='Sunsets aren&apos;t always necessary...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5583001183856913106</id><published>2008-10-05T20:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T20:40:40.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Smelly Truth</title><content type='html'>Over the course of this weekend, many strange things happened. Such as while having guests at my house I thought it would be a great time to catch up on some magazine reading. After reading "Good House Keeping", or something along those lines, I cracked open "Popular Science". I'm not sure how many active "Popular Science" readers we have in the class, so for those who didn't read this months magazine there was an interesting article about fuel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole gas issue is a tired subject and I try to tune it out, though this article was an entirely different approach that I found very interesting.  Instead of heating our houses with the typical fuel, use the waste products of various animals to heat homes! In the tank the bacteria will break down the animal waste and release natural gas methane. Though this is cool and really interested me, I will not go out and buy an elephant to heat my house...not happening. But, if someone else does it I think that's great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5583001183856913106?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5583001183856913106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5583001183856913106&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5583001183856913106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5583001183856913106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/smelly-truth.html' title='The Smelly Truth'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4010644635935537202</id><published>2008-10-04T18:25:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T18:33:46.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Open for Discussion: The Menaced Assassin</title><content type='html'>So, from reading all of ya'lls blogs... weird how that southern accent sneaks its way in....&lt;br /&gt;anyhoo...&lt;br /&gt;I've seen it repeated a numerous amount of times that we're all enjoying reading our peers work and commenting as opposed to creating our own. This thought once again crossed my mind when I saw the following portrait and didn't know what to think. If I had just glanced at the picture, my imagination probably could have ran miles with it, but I made the decision to look at the title first, which might have been a mistake because now I'm stumped. I've been comtemplating the message through the title and i think the assassin is menaced by the music... but honestly.. it seems so abstract to put so much detail around when really its about a music player. Then again, maybe the abstract of it is the point. Either way, I would be really interested in anyone elses interpretations of the painting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SOfusYG3fhI/AAAAAAAAABc/OYJhudY_Xeg/s1600-h/the+menaced+assassin.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 436px; height: 336px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SOfusYG3fhI/AAAAAAAAABc/OYJhudY_Xeg/s400/the+menaced+assassin.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253429936503881234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the nutidy. If you're offended, please move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4010644635935537202?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4010644635935537202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4010644635935537202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4010644635935537202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4010644635935537202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/open-for-discussion.html' title='Open for Discussion: The Menaced Assassin'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SOfusYG3fhI/AAAAAAAAABc/OYJhudY_Xeg/s72-c/the+menaced+assassin.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8439800238422356675</id><published>2008-10-01T22:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T22:36:22.418-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfection</title><content type='html'>Unlike my classmates, my day was nowhere near relaxing. After an hour of recycling club, I went straight home to get ready for work, then rushed to Calvin Klein. Thinking about my six hour shift from hell that I knew awaited me, began to stress me out. So, like I always do when I'm stressed, I began to sing in the car. I put on my favorite "calm me down" tunes and got started. The CD of choice was Taylor Swift. And you know what? Awkwardly enough after the first song my initial thought was of The Poem Ruiner! You may think I have no life and dream about him like the other students, but that is not my case. My thoughts were indeed class related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor Swift, apparently, is a strong believer in the circle format of writing. She starts and ends a majority of her songs using roughly the same lines. I never noticed that until just tonight and well I found it completely genius. There is no better way of getting your point across I think. "Tim McGraw" by Taylor Swift is the first track. If you are not familiar with the first verse it goes as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said the way my blue eyes shined,&lt;br /&gt;Put those Georgia stars to shame that night&lt;br /&gt;I said: "That's a lie"&lt;br /&gt;Just a boy in a Chevy truck,&lt;br /&gt;That had a tendency of gettin' stuck,&lt;br /&gt;On backroads at night&lt;br /&gt;An' I was right there beside him all summer long&lt;br /&gt;An' then the time we woke up to find that summer'd gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first three lines of that verse, I'm going to have to say, are my favorite lines in any song. I think they're really poetic and I can't even express in words how much I like them. But anyways what better way to end the song then to use those favorite lines of mine: &lt;br /&gt;You said the way my blue eyes shined,&lt;br /&gt;Put those Georgia stars to shame that night&lt;br /&gt;I said: "That's a lie".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GENIUS! That's not even the only song, theres more. It's great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8439800238422356675?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8439800238422356675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8439800238422356675&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8439800238422356675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8439800238422356675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/perfection.html' title='Perfection'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-520815639995105773</id><published>2008-10-01T20:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T20:26:39.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My escape</title><content type='html'>This is kind of going off of Kmarts post about doing nothing and just escaping the realities and responsibilities of life. I think that everyone has their own way of escaping. Kmart likes to paint her fingernails in sweatpants. I on the other hand hate sitting at home alone, watching tv or doing something of that nature, with no where to be and no one to see. My escape is dance, big surprise right? But lately I have really truely discovered how awesome and amazing dance is for me. I dance monday, tuesday, thursday, friday and sunday. On wednesday and saturday im forced to do tiring labor to earn a dollar or two for gas. On these two days, instead of enjoying a nice break for dance, I find myself wanting to be at my studio learning, creating, and performing. I love it everything about it. Even though the hours I practice are demanding and take up a good majority of my schedual, without it I wouldn't know what to do with my life. I guess it's good that I am so passionate about something in my life and have something I am fully committed to. Well, I think i'm going to go choreograph something neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chelsmford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-520815639995105773?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/520815639995105773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=520815639995105773&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/520815639995105773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/520815639995105773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-kind-of-going-off-of-kmarts.html' title='My escape'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-1236126387615390097</id><published>2008-10-01T16:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:37:33.485-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am currently in a state of relaxation. For once I have been able to come home from school, put some sweatpants on, and just be comfortable. These days too much pressure is put on the average teenager. They have classes, sports, work, friends, relationships, ecetra. At some point it begins to be too much. So, when given the chance to just sit down and do something that I want to do (today it was painting my fingernails!), I jump on it.&lt;br /&gt;Kmart:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-1236126387615390097?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/1236126387615390097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=1236126387615390097&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1236126387615390097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1236126387615390097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-currently-in-state-of-relaxation.html' title=''/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-708060614811537246</id><published>2008-10-01T09:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:23:37.271-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my sober eyed conclusion</title><content type='html'>I've come to a conclusion. I don't like blogging, I like commenting about blog posts of others. While sitting in home room this morning with EM and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vanrir&lt;/span&gt;, EM and I started talking about how we don't really enjoy coming up with our own interesting thoughts. We'd rather just look at what others have been talking about and writing our thoughts on their thoughts (interpreting interpretations..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;). So, when it may seem like I never post, you are right, but I am always on the blog cites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what turns me off about blogging, is the overwhelming feeling I get about this freedom. I like some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;boundaries&lt;/span&gt;. When I don't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;boundaries&lt;/span&gt; I get so lost in the thought of writing about anything and everything. Such as, when I am left without rules, I tend to just stay put because I can't decide what I would want to do with so much out there I could be doing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;BAHH&lt;/span&gt; I'm stressed thinking about the possibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Riz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-708060614811537246?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/708060614811537246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=708060614811537246&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/708060614811537246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/708060614811537246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-sober-eyed-conclusion.html' title='my sober eyed conclusion'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4342151212329428799</id><published>2008-09-30T20:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T20:49:05.805-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Interpreting Interpretation of Interpretaion???</title><content type='html'>Interpretation by Steven Mailloux was an interesting essay, but once again, it forced me to use my intellect and think, what a bummer. Up until this year, anything I read was either straight forward or I was given somewhat of an explanation so that I knew exactly what I was getting into to. This year my teacher (add clever nickname here), is actually making me think for myself. Great. Actually, I appreciate this gesture to the greatest extent because if I can think for myself I will have much more success when speaking to sexy people about intellectual things in the future, and meet my dream husband. Thinking is good.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, "Interpretation" opened by eyes to  a concept that would have never even crossed my mind, which is the act of interpreting. As stated in the essay, interpretaion cannot be avoided. It is being done right now, even as you read this fantastic blog. In Perguilicious' brainy paper she wrote that even when we express oursleves, we interpret what we are feeling and then show  them through our actions or words. Not only do ordinary people interpret things on a daily basis, but important people in robes have to do it too. Yes, I'm talking about when the Supreme Court has to interpret the ever so famous constitution to decide if a law is constitutional. So yes, believe it or not, interpretation is for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;The big question that came up after reading Millioux's essay was, can an interpretation be right or wrong? I am still pondering this myself. However, if I had to come to a conclusion I would say that there is never one right interpretation, but there certainly interpretations that are completely wrong and not accepted. One thing I love about our AP lit class is that two interpretations of something, for example the last few lines of "King Lear," may be interpreted completely different by different people, but we accept both of them. I feel that with different interpretations, we can get more out of a piece of literature or art. It is not easy to argue against someone's thoughts about a piece of writing, but if you don't add your input you may miss out on a lot. Therefore I am making it my goal to always add my thoughts and my interpretations of literature this year in class so that I can gain as much as possible each class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chelmsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4342151212329428799?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4342151212329428799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4342151212329428799&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4342151212329428799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4342151212329428799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/interpreting-interpretation-of.html' title='Interpreting Interpretation of Interpretaion???'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5952438116664125089</id><published>2008-09-29T21:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T22:01:03.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Be nice now..</title><content type='html'>Short &amp;amp; sweet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that a certain someone received some harsh teaming up on by our AP class. I admire retrospect and his bravery in taking a step forward into a world of veggie burgers &amp;amp; soy milk. Let's all be nice and not critizise him for a choice that a lot of us wouldn't be able to make.. and stick with. Be nice now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-a carniverous friend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5952438116664125089?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5952438116664125089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5952438116664125089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5952438116664125089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5952438116664125089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/be-nice-now.html' title='Be nice now..'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5416786731130654994</id><published>2008-09-28T23:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T23:25:01.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, now that the reading of Shakespeare is done with I am so much more relieved. Though that is satisfying, I think I need to find something to go with my free time, now that I am no longer trying to figure out what Shakespeare was attempting to get across in his play. I came to this conclusion about five minutes ago when I sat watching the clock change on our blog (very cool clock by the way). Instead of watching the clock I decided that I should spend my time blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, this is just like everyday in class, when it's finally my turn to say something I loose all thought process completely, thus have nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this was pointless but time consuming so I guess it was not a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5416786731130654994?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5416786731130654994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5416786731130654994&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5416786731130654994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5416786731130654994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/so-now-that-reading-of-shakespeare-is.html' title=''/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-1570021846573049422</id><published>2008-09-27T16:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T16:47:54.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Breast is Better"... or is it?</title><content type='html'>We all enjoy a cold, mouth watering cone of ice cream on those hot sweltering days when the sun decides to fry us... but would you enjoy it just as much if you knew you were eating a creation made with breast milk substituted for cow's milk? Now, I don't have anything against people for animals' rights. I occasionally cry when I see a poor little raccoon get run over, or get mad when I hear about abuse against poor helpless dogs (get some anger management, don't take it out on man's best friend!!). I can't say that a tear falls everytime I bite into a hamburger becuase you have to admit they're pretty damn good, but i think PETA might have gone just a little too far with animal rights with this whole breast milk deal. PETA recently requested to Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's that they use human breast milk instead of milk from a cow because it would "lessen the suffering of dairy cows and their babies on factory farms and benefit human health" (&lt;a href="http://www.wnbc.com/news/17539627/detail.html"&gt;Click here to read the article&lt;/a&gt;). How much do the cows really suffer when you get milk? They're producing milk anyways, and it's not like the babies aren't getting what they need. Plus, I think the idea that your revisiting memories of an infant while biting into your delicious(?) ice cream isn't very appealing. It ruins the refreshing feeling we all enjoy from a cold treat on a hot day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-purgalicious&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-1570021846573049422?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/1570021846573049422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=1570021846573049422&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1570021846573049422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/1570021846573049422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/breast-is-better-or-is-it.html' title='&quot;The Breast is Better&quot;... or is it?'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3093894761718884962</id><published>2008-09-26T08:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:31:02.569-04:00</updated><title type='text'>UNH College Fair</title><content type='html'>A bunch of friends and I attended a college fair this week! I speak for all of us when I say that it has opened our college search up to a whole new level. I was introduced to colleges i had never heard of last night, and now I have a whole slew of new college brochures to add to my collection. Over the course of this week i have been focusing on narrowing down my colleges to a smaller selection based on courses, cost, and campus. I am actually finding myself starting enjoy the college process! Which is good because it's going to be busy for us these next few months.&lt;br /&gt;                                   Kmart:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3093894761718884962?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3093894761718884962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3093894761718884962&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3093894761718884962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3093894761718884962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/unh-college-fair.html' title='UNH College Fair'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-4120992714921116257</id><published>2008-09-26T07:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:31:37.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of Interpretation!</title><content type='html'>This week we have focused on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mallioux's&lt;/span&gt; "Interpretation". This piece focuses on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interpreting&lt;/span&gt; how people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;interpret&lt;/span&gt; works of art. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mallioux&lt;/span&gt; makes some very good points in his essay. He introduces three theories of interpretation.&lt;br /&gt;First, He describes the formalist theory. This is when a reader interprets the word from looking at what "the words on the page" actually mean. It's more of a literal translation of what is actually written. Second, he talks about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;intentionalist&lt;/span&gt; theory. This is when the reader interprets the writing by thinking about the authors intentions. He looks for the hidden meaning behind the text. Last, He describes the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;foundationalist&lt;/span&gt; theory. This is when the writer takes into effect not only the authors intentions and the historical past in the writing, but also the literal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;meaning&lt;/span&gt; of the words on the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I am a reader that uses the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;formalist&lt;/span&gt; theory more often than the others. I am not a very abstract &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;thinker&lt;/span&gt; so when asked by the teacher to decipher a mean in a sonnet, I just get confused and flustered. I like to tell you what is meant by the words that are written on the page because I find that that is easiest for me.&lt;br /&gt;Kmart:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-4120992714921116257?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/4120992714921116257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=4120992714921116257&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4120992714921116257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/4120992714921116257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/art-of-interpretation.html' title='The Art of Interpretation!'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-953671667793381808</id><published>2008-09-24T15:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T15:52:46.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Distracted</title><content type='html'>I need to write this paper for AP Lit, but it's hard to do when there are so many distractions...&lt;br /&gt;like myspace..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; coffee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; I Love Money on VH1...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the process of making strange noises to make my brother laugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; nail polish...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; Kenny Chesney...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; singing to Kenny Chesney...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;ramen noodles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; thinking about napping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the guilt trip that comes with napping instead of writing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; worrying about late fees at block buster...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; thinking about ellipses and how weirdly it is both a math term and english term...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;looking at the mail...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; doing laundry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; reading every small print word on my lip gloss, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SEXY MOTHERPUCKER&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; looking up random words in the dictionary...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; being intensly awed by the tingly, static feeling &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SEXY MOTHERPUCKER&lt;/span&gt; causes on my lips..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the funny little squirrel who can't decide which side of the road he would rather              stroll on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and OMG WATCHING A RED DODGE NEON FLATTEN THE SQUIRREL TO THE ROAD!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; making jokes about poor little squirrels...&lt;br /&gt;but i thought adding more specifics about the car would make it more believable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to this paper...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-953671667793381808?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/953671667793381808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=953671667793381808&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/953671667793381808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/953671667793381808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/distracted.html' title='Distracted'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-928298453352431197</id><published>2008-09-23T18:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T22:19:02.585-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Credit to the Loony</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Finally, the painful language that pierces my thought process with every "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;callith&lt;/span&gt;" and "me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thinkith&lt;/span&gt;" is over. Not only is the book over, but I also experienced Shakespeare's usual happy ending which consists of killing off pretty much every main character (slight tone of sarcasm). After giving up on William and turning to the amazing talents of the world wide web, I was finally able to understand what was going on with the help of "No Fear Shakespeare". Once I read all the Acts in "normal" English, I found the plot line of "King Lear" to be incredibly interesting and would even go as far to say that I enjoyed it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The closing scene seemed like a typical wrap up by Shakespeare. Of course, Cordelia had to die seeing as she was the only good-hearted character. Should have seen that coming. I found it very disagreeable that near the end, Lear was so sympathized:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;"The weight of this sad time we must obey.&lt;br /&gt;Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.&lt;br /&gt;The oldest hath borne most. We that are young&lt;br /&gt;Shall never see so much, nor live so long." p. 310&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ow is it that Lear is looked at as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wise&lt;/span&gt; old man whose life should be thought of as a long and well traveled journey that should be looked to as an example? By the middle of the book he could have been declared legally insane! He set up a fake court trial against his daughters in some hut in the middle of a rain storm in the company of his servants and what was thought to be a crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pheasant&lt;/span&gt;. I feel that his insanity was understandable seeing as his kingdom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;practically&lt;/span&gt; crumbled beneath him and his own daughters whom he loved turned against him, but to look at him as a role model? And yes, Lear did experience a lot that not many people experience on a daily basis, but everyone faces hardships in life. Albany just lost not only his wife, but both his sister-in-laws and his father-in-law in the same day. If that ever happened to someone today, I'd say that's a hell of a lot to experience. I've never even been to a funeral in my life, so even one death would be a dramatic for me. I do feel sympathy towards Lear, even though it was his pride that brought most everything on to himself. If he hadn't been so stuck on the idea that his daughters had to confess their love with words to impress him, he might not have banished Cordelia and saved him the loss of his one trustworthy daughter, his kingdom, and his sanity. I do understand the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;grief&lt;/span&gt; of his death, and the sympathy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;since&lt;/span&gt; even on his death bed he was still a crazy old man, but I don't understand how they see his life as such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;success&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;purgalicious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table style="width: 261px; height: 288px;" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="txt_o" width="355"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;         &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt; &lt;td class="lnnum" width="20"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="txt_o" width="355"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;         &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td class="lnnum" width="20"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="txt_o" width="355"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;         &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td class="lnnum" width="20"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="txt_o" width="355"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-928298453352431197?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/928298453352431197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=928298453352431197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/928298453352431197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/928298453352431197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/too-much-credit-to-loony.html' title='Too Much Credit to the Loony'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-2093426925744040279</id><published>2008-09-22T20:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T21:11:30.094-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the rollar coaster of feelings for the unit called shakespeare</title><content type='html'>"But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,&lt;br /&gt;All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end."&lt;br /&gt;-William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those two lines just happened to be my favorite two lines I have come across yet in my Shakespeare readings. They are the ending lines in "Sonnet 30" and i believe they are the reasons for me having mixed feelings about the Sonnet. Unlike the class may believe, it was not the "Poem Ruiner's" interesting reading voice that made me change my mind about the poem, but it was that i realized the only reason I liked the poem to begin with was those last two lines. Those two were the best lines in the sonnet and just happened to be the note the sonnet ended on, so it left me feeling once again hopeful for poetry. Then I realized, after hearing the poem on a different day with a different state of mind, I really don't like this after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, like EM, my dislike in Shakespeare has come from way back when in fifth grade. I too suffered through that class that EM speaks of. Who knew a teacher could make Romeo and Juliet drag on with a class a fifth graders for months on end. It maybe a horrible exaggeration, and correct me if I'm wrong fellow classmate, but I believe we worked on that play for the entire year. Worked on it as in acted it out, read alone for homework then again allowed in class and filmed it. This is off topic but if you want to picture something funny picture me, Juliet and our dear friend from class that we caught sleeping today, as Romeo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe people around the world like me would enjoy Shakespeare better in small sonnets, rather than plays. Start small and work for the big picture will be my new approach. Then that way I might come across other sets of lines that I find promising such as the above stated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Riz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-2093426925744040279?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/2093426925744040279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=2093426925744040279&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2093426925744040279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/2093426925744040279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/rollar-coaster-of-feelings-for-unit.html' title='the rollar coaster of feelings for the unit called shakespeare'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-5676620244191580040</id><published>2008-09-22T17:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T18:08:19.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Reactions</title><content type='html'>As I read each page of "King Lear," I retain little of what Shakespeare writes. I almost feel as if I'm not worthy of reading his so called masterpiece because I don't enjoy it or appreciate it as much as it should be. I feel like the play is wasted on me. I read each sentence, but rarely do I understand the plot line or what anyone is trying to say. I can read a whole scene and have the slightest idea about what it going on.&lt;br /&gt;However, there is hope for me. Whenever I don't understand the Shakespearean language (which is more than often) I look at the little footnotes on the bottom which translate the words into more modern and sensible language. Although, this does get quite annoying and after awhile I just get sick of it and continue reading words that I don't understand and not comprehending much of this valued authors work. The only thing that really helps me to finally fathom Shakespeare's writing is discussion. Whether it is with one peer or an entire class, when discussing the play "King Lear" things that were once foggy become clear as day. We will talk about the overall plot and the characters and their actions, and suddenly in my head I say "Ohhhh, so that's what was happening there, I understand." All I have to say is that I need a little extra help to understand what's going on, and although the language is surly and spiteful, the plot, I must admit, is actually quite interesting, despite the fact that the end is completely predictable for a Shakespeare play and everyone dies. That needed no untangling and discussion for me to understand what was going on because I would have been shocked if it didn't happen. All in all, a late reaction to "King Lear" is much better than no reaction or understanding at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chelmsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-5676620244191580040?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/5676620244191580040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=5676620244191580040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5676620244191580040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/5676620244191580040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/late-reactions.html' title='Late Reactions'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-542058731377252681</id><published>2008-09-20T19:31:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T22:58:53.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chalk Art Doesn't Stop With Just Driveways</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.seekstruth.com/album/The%20Chalk%20Guy08.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.seekstruth.com/album/The%20Chalk%20Guy08.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The appreciation of art has never been a specialty of mine. It usually isn't until someone points out the creativity of a piece that I really begin to understand the meaning and thought that is put into something that could be as simple as a few line strokes of splotches of color. I write poetry to get my point across, to express myself when conversing with people doesn't seem to cut it. Others choose the more artsy expression of drawing. I've tried to understand the techniques of being a good artist and I've come to the upsetting conclusion that there are none. You have to have talent, and it didn't take long to discover that I don't have it. I've watched the way people can draw the same tree I'm seeing in such a way that all of a sudden the tree I was looking at is transformed into something fresh and new, yet on what used to be blank piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until watching Ben Glenn, aka the "Chalkguy", that I actually was able to enjoy watching the process of being shown up. Not only is he an amazing artist, he tells his story while he does it. He grew up with the problem of ADD and found a way to express himself and in a way cure himself through art and his faith, which he combines. He really helps you to understand the heart that goes into art. Not only are his finished products amazing to look at (even better in person), but his whole technique of creating his masterpieces is just as amazing. Let's just say with his talent with chalk, his driveway as a child must have been the talk of the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nvFRv0ZW3f4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nvFRv0ZW3f4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-purgalicious&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-542058731377252681?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/542058731377252681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=542058731377252681&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/542058731377252681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/542058731377252681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/chalk-art-doesnt-stop-with-just.html' title='Chalk Art Doesn&apos;t Stop With Just Driveways'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-469771344416243511</id><published>2008-09-17T22:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T22:23:58.957-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Following the Trend.. Shakespeare: Friend or Foe?</title><content type='html'>I would love to use the simple line of "Wow! What's with the gibberish language? Shakespeare sucks," but I understand the bigger picture is enjoying the art of it and not quite the technicallity of the language. The thing that is hard for me to cope with when reading Shakespeare is I never know if I am expected to understand everything that is going on or just get a vague picture of the scene taking place. I give up on the footnotes because they make my head hurt with all that extra eye movements, so reading stanzas like the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"...Sure her offense&lt;br /&gt;Must be of such unnatural degree&lt;br /&gt;That monsters it, or your fore-vouched affection&lt;br /&gt;Fall into taint; which to believe of her&lt;br /&gt;Must be a faith that reason without miracle&lt;br /&gt;Should never plant in me."&lt;br /&gt;make absolutly no sense. I find myself often wondering if there is an argument taking place between the characters or if they are extremly happy with each other. I know for certain there are two chracters exchanging words, and that's about all I could tell you.&lt;br /&gt;So, my point is: I understand the language sucks and we're supposed to love the literature through it all, but just how much am I expected to get from the book? I've always wondered if when kids claim they understood absolutly zilch of what they just read, and I'm in the same baot, if that's what's expected from us. Are we reading to get the simple plot line in the long run, or are we supposed to be soaking in every detail expressed to us through a language so foreign to us we might as well be trying to read out of a manuel da la Francais (French text book). In the end, I would like to say that I am unlike all those who simply see the language and from that point have a solid stand point that they hate the book, but I can't put myself above anyone. I'm just as confused. Our loving and dear William must be so proud of his accomplishment in leaving a whole generation in a cloud of utter confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-purgalicious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-469771344416243511?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/469771344416243511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=469771344416243511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/469771344416243511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/469771344416243511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/following-trend-shakespeare-friend-or.html' title='Following the Trend.. Shakespeare: Friend or Foe?'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-125150593381093195</id><published>2008-09-17T21:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T21:28:59.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Shakespeare.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNGuxYemktI/AAAAAAAAAAw/q4NqoVmy9GE/s1600-h/krsytla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247167204270969554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNGuxYemktI/AAAAAAAAAAw/q4NqoVmy9GE/s320/krsytla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When our teacher assigned us yet another work of art by our dear friend, William Shakespeare, I was skeptical about being able to understand the play. The classic style of writing that Shakespeare uses keeps me in the dark from beginning to end. I am not embarassed to admit that when I can't understand a seemingly long schpeal given by a character, I find myself cheating by using No Fear Shakespeare. This is the only way I can understand some of the symbolism and motifs that are presented in Shakespears most important passages. Trudging through Shakespeare alone would be incredibly horrifying. I would never choose to read him on my own, but as I have no choice in the matter I do as I'm told.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ON a different note I would like to discuss a qoute that stuck out to me in Act Four, Scene Six, Lines 264-267.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that I stand up and have ingenious feelings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of my huge sorrows. Better I were distract-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And woes by wrong imaginations lose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the knowledge of them selves."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This quote is given by Gloucester. He expresses that he is jealous that The King has lost his insanity, wishing that he had been the one to go insane. He feels this way because that he wouldn't have to feel the pain of the problems that won't escape him. I like this quote because sometimes I find myself in positions where I am comparing my life situations to others. I say that I would love to deal what this person is dealing with, if I could only get what they have because I dont get it myself. I don't ever view my life as good enough. It would be nice to take some time and appreciate what I have going for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;KMART :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-125150593381093195?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/125150593381093195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=125150593381093195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/125150593381093195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/125150593381093195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-shakespeare.html' title='Oh Shakespeare.'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNGuxYemktI/AAAAAAAAAAw/q4NqoVmy9GE/s72-c/krsytla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-7930259869418711617</id><published>2008-09-15T18:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T18:27:55.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Appreciating an artform</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.fineartandsoul.com/images/Andrew-Ballerina-48x36-O.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.fineartandsoul.com/images/Andrew-Ballerina-48x36-O.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal for this year is to learn to appreciate the art of literature in the way that I appreciate and adore the art of dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-7930259869418711617?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/7930259869418711617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=7930259869418711617&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7930259869418711617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/7930259869418711617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='Appreciating an artform'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-8102556496739995620</id><published>2008-09-15T17:16:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T18:14:08.086-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M'/><title type='text'>God said Let there be narration</title><content type='html'>I am half way through reading the essay "Narrative," by J. Hillis Miller and though I admit that the very thought of reading essays bores me, I find this one quite interesting. Not only is the topic entertaining, but the actually writing is comprehendable, therefore really allowing me to get into the essay and be influenced by the authors valid points.&lt;br /&gt;Miller discussing how simple narration has so much leverage in shaping humanity. Miller has a strong belief that withought narratives, humun culture would not excist; "Surely there is no human culture, however 'primitive,' without its stories and habits of storytelling." The ability to narrate shows that we have "advanced language competence." Through the stories that we tell, out intellect can be measured. I think that Miller's theories are so extreme that they seem arguable, however I have a hard time disagreeing with them. The one point he made that really made me ponder was "We would not know we were in love if we had not read novels." The fact that love was created and introduced to humans through novels is just mind boggeling. I do agree that withought a word for love, it would not exist, therefore narration was the primitive beginning of the passionate emotion. However, I cannot bring myself to believe that we needed a novel to explain to us what it felt like to be fully consumed by the feeling of love.&lt;br /&gt;Miller asked himself three big question: Why do we need stories at all? Why do we need the "same" story over and over? and why do we always need more stories? These questions a quite legitamite and his answers are quite facinating. We need stories because they shape us. This makes me wonder if someone read only horror stories, and another read only romances, how differently would their personalities be? The stories we read define us, so is a person who reads narratives daily and challenges their own intellect much more complete than one who reads rarely? We read the same stories over and over because each time, it reassures us of what we remember from reading it the first time. I know that when I read something more than once, I pick up on something new each time. We are never satisfied with a story, thats why we keep reading more and more. I loved how Miller explained that through narratives, we experience so much withought the consequences we would face in real life. How true that statement is. Reading a narrative is an escape from reality, so it seems, but at the same time, it is actually defining our reality.&lt;br /&gt;Narration makes the world the way it is. Perhaps it created love, it also has been accused of starting wars. It not only reveals secrets of life to us, but it actually creates the life and culture that we know and experience today. I would be very afraid to live in a world without narratives, because through Miller's point of veiw, little would exist. I no longer think that a good narration is just for entertainment, but so much more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chemsford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-8102556496739995620?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/8102556496739995620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=8102556496739995620&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8102556496739995620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/8102556496739995620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/god-said-let-there-be-narration.html' title='God said Let there be narration'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3168793294058371869</id><published>2008-09-11T17:25:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:14:17.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Toast...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;    Literature has always been a constant through time, following the current of change with the arrival of every new era. Every change in history, every new trend in society, even new discoveries and controversies leave their traces in the literature of the time. The literature is a time stamp that allows modern day readers to revert back in time. We revisit our founding fathers and experience their determination of declaring their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;independence&lt;/span&gt;; we sympathize with Uncle Tom who represented all the oppressed slaves and their struggle for freedom; we learn the true depths of past role models who left a mark in history; we even are introduced to the life of new individuals who bring the magical world to life. Literature has always been the true informant, allowing a more entertaining way of expressing the ways of the world than relying on the media.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past, Literature was based on meaningful topics. The author's were known for their stance on an issue. For example, authors like Kate Chopin and Virginia Woolf are remembered for their strong appearance in one certain time period. In today's world, everything is fast paced and always up to date, and Literature keeps its reputation up to par by moving as fast as the world around it. There is not simply one book or author that represents a time period. Books are printed as frequently as the changes around us. As soon as a tragedy hits or a new diet is discovered, it's expected not long after a book will follow. We're always being kept up to date. If you don't know the lingo of your teenager, how to fix an electrical outlet, or are even lacking the knowledge of the birds and the bees, don't worry because Literature is there to help you out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now is the true revealing of Literature's awesome power of change. The world feels the only way to go is faster, better, and simpler. We look around and see the computers getting smaller, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tv's&lt;/span&gt; getting bigger, and the phones including everything from your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt; to your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; service to keep you from having to carry around 5 different accessories. As the world is accelerating faster then ever, Literature has no problem keeping up. Forget about reading the book altogether, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Sparknote&lt;/span&gt; it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I praise Literature and its stealthy methods of finding its way into every current modern way of life. Pencil and pen is looked down on, paper is slowly facing abandonment as files are being sent by email instead of snail mail, and even newspapers are being read ".com", yet, Literature stands strong. This brings me to the introduction of our blog. This is our place to appreciate, discuss, and sometimes criticize Literature found throughout all periods of time. Although the Literature itself may not be present, its legacy lives on through simple discussions such as these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to you, Literature, I send my congrats and best wishes.&lt;br /&gt;May you always find your way in the changes of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;purgalicious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3168793294058371869?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3168793294058371869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3168793294058371869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3168793294058371869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3168793294058371869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/toast.html' title='A Toast...'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5020384332575765704.post-3523108400392168409</id><published>2008-09-11T16:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T17:01:34.914-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Forget About the Little People</title><content type='html'>For a couple of days we've been learning new techniques about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;analyzing&lt;/span&gt; poetry. We tested our knowledge with Percy Shelley's "Ozymandias". I loved it. It's now my favorite poem. The part that I like the most about it, I'll have to say, is how the poem &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;recognizes&lt;/span&gt; the little people. There would be no evidence of the king if it weren't for the kings worker. Since reading this poem I have a new hope for poetry. Maybe I will give poetry a new chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Riz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5020384332575765704-3523108400392168409?l=sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/feeds/3523108400392168409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5020384332575765704&amp;postID=3523108400392168409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3523108400392168409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5020384332575765704/posts/default/3523108400392168409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sobereyedconclusions.blogspot.com/2008/09/dont-forget-about-little-people.html' title='Don&apos;t Forget About the Little People'/><author><name>sobereyedconclusions</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00768842312937868273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEqNX8bXGxc/SNE-ToMeQoI/AAAAAAAAAAY/NJweqJv205o/S220/images.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
