The Power and the Glory Final Video

Here is our final video project for the novel the Power and the Glory.


Untitled from Claire W on Vimeo.

Diabolical

Author's Note: This Piece was inspired by the baby boy down the street and the actions of the adults around me. We babysat him last night and I was appalled at how many adults whom I know to be intelligent went to mush upon seeing him. The made funny noises and did weird things, and by the end of that night I decided I will pleasantly and happily wait until I am an adult until I fall apart from looking at a baby. I wrote this as the baby, on his thoughts of all the attention, it is just a short kind of funny piece.

Sitting here on this random person's lap I am the man.  I mean look at this. There is a lady feeding me some amazing slop and wiping it up as if she is my servant. All these dogs just mill around me panting at me, and looking up at me with their adoring eyes, or maybe their looking at the food. None of it  really matters because I am still a king, and I rule over adults. Have you ever seen the way adults act around babies, that is my point exactly. I have the invaluable power to turn adults brains to mush. They make their strange noises and faces, that ultimately make them look foolish and I of course laugh. Who wouldn't, it is hysterical they look so ridiculous and if they could understand me they probably wouldn't think that I was super cute, but they can't and I take full advantage of that.

Here comes someone right now, a strange woman whom I have no idea who she is but I don't care, because I know exactly what she is about to do. She bends down until she is right in my face and begins to speak well if you can call it speaking, "a boo,  a boo boo! Aren't you just so cute! Yes you are! Yes you are! A dododo aboo aww do bo bo do!" My evil seemingly cute laugh echoes through the room. Oh how I enjoy this power.

Most people are easy to change to mush, but men are harder. They have will power that stands against me, but I always beat them in the end. Girls are really easy, one look and they're gone, no wonder my shirt says Girls Dig Me.

You are Your Brother's Keeper

Author's Note: This is my response to the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, it is a kind of short story thing about the main character's, Christopher's, teacher or mentor something like that. It is based off of a passage from the book on page 29 where Christopher is talking about he doesn't know what staying out of other people's business means, I kind of took it a different way saying that sometimes you have to disregard the fact that it is their business in order to help them.

 I remember the first time someone told me it was none of my business, I was only four and didn't at the time know what that meant. As I grew older I gradually gained knowledge as to what was my business and what wasn't, my business was stuff that involved me that I didn't necessarily want the whole world to know. As a general rule you stay out of other people's business, but when does it become the time to cross the line into their business, because sometimes that is exactly what that person needs.

At the age of thirteen I saw something of my friends life that was really none of my "business". I was walking up her front lawn a wrapped parcel in hand about to surprise her because the previous day had been her birthday and me, being out of town, was not available to come and wish her a happy birthday and give her her gift. I was almost to the doorway when I saw her through the window, standing in her family room. I was about to raise my hand up to wave at her and say hi, but then I saw that she was crying. My hand dropped limply to my side and stopped and continued to look into the window, searching for whatever had made her cry expecting it to be her older brother or something.

Instead I saw her father advancing towards her, as if her where a tiger stalking its prey. When he reached her struck her so hard in the face she fell down and then I couldn't see her, but I could still see her father, could still see that he had continued to hit her. I stood there frozen in horror, with no idea what to do. I couldn't move, it was like being glued to a scary movie, unable to move your eyes, but wanting to so bad. Finally he stopped and faintly through the window I could hear him shout, "I need a drink!". My friend, my friend I saw her pulling herself up using the window sill as support, her body was scored with bruises, and as she lifted her head up our eyes connected for just a moment. Then she shot to her feet and closed the shade.What I did next was stupid, I turned around and went home thinking to myself the whole way it is none of my business, it is NONE of my business!

The next day at school we acted as if nothing ever happened, and everyday she came to school with a new bruise I pretended it wasn't there. Pretended I didn't know the truth, that I believed the story that she had concocted. Months later, how I wished I would have ignored the fact that it was her business and not mine, because months later she died.

The day that Christopher came into school with the bruise on his cheek, my heart jumped and I was reminded of this all. I had to ask him, make sure he was okay, and he must have been because he told me so and I know that Christopher can't lie. Although that was technically going into his business, sometimes as human beings we need to do that, because after all you are your brothers keeper, and sometimes to make sure that he (or she) remains unharmed you have to go into their business.

Whoops!

Author's Note: This is just something I wrote in avoidance of writing an essay, it is similar to the last post I did in the sense that it is based off of a song. I did another like that one because I had a lot of fun with it and it is just something that I am playing around with. This is based off of the song Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons. I took this song as being somebody watching a person that had a very low self esteem and was broken, at first the spectator is disgusted at them, disgusted at the fact that the person won't just pull themselves together and suck it up, but then they realize that that is easier said than done and they start feeling guilty because it was their fault, they where the ones who did this to that person. I don't think this makes a lot of sense in some parts, but tell me what think. If you don't know the song there is a link with the lyrics  underneath this note to help, but otherwise listen to it on youtube, but be warned if you are sensitive towards swears they say the f-word in the chorus. 

Lyrics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/little_lion_man_lyrics_mumford_and_sons.html


As you stand there crying, and crying I watch you. All that you cry for is yourself, all you cry for is what you want to be but aren't.  You try your hardest to be what you want, but through all that has happened your bravery has gradually ebbed away, you are no longer as brave as you where at the start. Constantly analyzing yourself to other people, don't you know you aren't perfect? There is always someone better than you, and if you could only take all the courage, the small amount that that is and realize that you aren't perfect and that's okay. All these problems you try to solve, they are in your head. All the energy that goes into "fixing" your life is wasted, there is nothing to fix. You are like a cowardly lion crouching and weeping in your own made up self pity.

Then again I shouldn't be criticizing you it was after all my fault. I was the one who brought you down, I was the one who gave that kind of self-image. Wow I really messed up didn't I? All those days when I could have said something that would have made a positive difference. For me it was a joke, but obviously it wasn't for you and I just was too slow to see it.

Trembling in the fear of yourself, in your self hate. You know you have seen this before, but you never thought it would be you. So confident you where, with your little swagger and the ego that people couldn't help but love.  None of those scores will be settled with the people who where previously in your place because of you, not even out of pity will they let them be settled. All you have now is the boldness that was once just another plus of being you, but now it is all you have left, all that stands among the wreck of you.

Now I know what I did, but you walking as if everybody was there for you all the things you had, and I just wanted to take away some of it. I thought it wouldn't hurt, just tiny pin pricks barely noticeable to someone as large as you, but everyone prick counted, everything does. It all added up  in the end until like a balloon you explode, deflated, leaving nothing but empty plastic pieces, not even enough to put back together. I didn't, didn't care it was your heart that was in trouble not mine, so really it was not your fault but mine.

VoiceThread

If you are looking for my VoiceThread and/or adopted poet poem it is on the Adopted Poet: W.H. Auden page

Fallen

Author's Note: Here is post I decided to do based off of Coldplay's Viva La Vida. There are a lot references back to the song in this seeing as I was listening to it as I wrote this. I think the idea of eternal damnation and the way the person whom the song talks about is at peace with it is fascinating and I tried to get that at the end of this piece. 

Smooth road is stretched before me, its flawless perfection is something seemingly impossible but yet here it is. Golden glimmers catch the light of a bright sun above, the road seems to float among perfect white and fluffy clouds stark against the deep blue background. My hands stay in my pockets to shield myself from whatever might come, my back is hunched against an unknown force curling protectively around my body. Each step is a step towards the end of this road, each step brings back memories as I draw closer to the Gates.

I remember my younger days, when I ruled all, everything was at my beck and call. The sense of power and glory was gratifying whenever I heard my people yelling shouts of praise "Long live the King!" they used to cry. I was feared by all, going into battle I relished the feeling of the terror I could sense from my enemies. All Kings fall at one point, most of the time it is death, but for me it was not so. It was like a big mind game to be king, no one was honest and their words meant nothing their only purpose was to twist the thoughts running through my head, but this was when I ruled the world.

I remember the horrified looks I received after the Incident, none could believe what I had done, what I had become especially me. My world fell apart the one so strong castle I had crumbled into sand, I had just opened the door to Life when with one small action it was closed to me. Slowly I crawled my way from King to the lowest form of life possible, my hands worked and tended, took care of things I used to sweep past in all of my arrogance. Noticing not the people who did what I do know.

My sleeping place was right near the Cathedral, and that last cold night that seems far off but was not so long ago, I heard the music pouring out from the doors. Beautiful it was, bell rang amongst the choir as they sang, I can imagine I can hear it right now, on this golden road that gives the illusion of being steady but I can fell the faint swaying. The music that I thought was just in my head is growing louder with each step and look up from my hunched gait, the music that is flowing out of the gates is a thousand times more beautiful than anything that has ever met my ears. At the front of tall and elegant gates stands a man, he seems to be waiting for me, in fact I know he is. This is Saint Peter. I reach him in a state far from apprehension in fact it is more like peace. I know what my verdict will be I do not know how, but I know. Saint Peter looks upon me, nodding his head once to confirm that I was indeed right.

Truman Show Responses

Fear of Life

Author's Note: Here is my first response to The Truman Show. I found this kind of hard to respond to a movie, I had no trouble finding a topic, but the fact that I had to do it all on memory made it kind of difficult. Also when responding to a novel the book is right there and there is text evidence that you can use to support what you want to say, but you have none of that when responding to a movie. 

Truman is a man who lives in a television show, he does not know that his life is fake that is not really a life at all. Everything is controlled by the producers and all the people around him are actors put there for his benefit. It is not real, just a synthesizer of life that takes emotion away. In the scene where Truman is too scared to go on a boat ride on the ocean the ocean represents life and portrays how fear keeps people life.

The ocean can be rough and cruel, but also kind and gentle, just like life, when you are out in the ocean there can be a sense of being completely alone and that is what you basically are in life. Life is spending your time doing things that matter to you and making a difference to others, it is doing something that has real meaning, not going through the motions day after day like you are a mindless robot. In one scene Truman has to go on a boat, but chickens out because he is afraid of being on the ocean. This is Truman showing that he is scared of life, although it intrigues him it also scares him and his fear is part of what is keeping him from life.

A couple of scenes later is revealed that Truman is scared of the ocean because one day while boating with his father his father wanted to go back to shore, because he thought it looked like it was going to storm, but Truman begged and eventually convinced his dad to stay out longer. A storm ended up hitting just like his father had predicted, but his father ended up dying to Truman. As a boy when he wanted to stay out on the ocean, that is like Truman loved life, but after he lost his father in it he no longer liked it instead he feared it. His father being lost was mostly Truman's fault because he was the one who did not listen to his father, Truman feels guilty for his father's death. The guilt is not a huge factor in the fact that Truman is scared of life, but it plays a small part since it is his fault that the dad was lost the guilt could add to the fear because he might be like "what if I do this to someone else".

Truman is a man living a fake life and when offered the chance at  real one he is too scared to take up the offer.  He used to be someone who loved life, but the losses he suffered and the guilt all took their toll on him turning him into to someone who is afraid of life. Fear is something that can be good in small amounts, but when it keeps you from something such as life it is anything but good.

The Storm

Author's Note: Here is my second response to the Truman Show, it is like a follow up to the first one. That one was about Truman being afraid of life and this one is about what Truman encounters in life. I have no idea where the rebirth thing came from in the last sentence, I kind of read it over and was like "I didn't even realize I wrote that!", maybe I should delete, but I thought it sounded kind of cool even if it was random.

Troubles and sorrows swirled around him in one big over whelming wave, it surged upon him crashing against his skin and then ebbing away. Again it rose to attack him knocking his body against the hard edge of the lifeboat, the only thing that is keeping him from the torrent below.  A storm upon the water is what Truman experiences, the seemingly endless fight just for his life is his reality. In the second half of the Truman show, Truman takes a chance, leaping into life and experiencing the horrible storms and the quiet peace that comes after.

When the people running the show find Truman on the ocean and no way of getting to him they set storms upon him in hopes he will go back on his own or die. There is one man in particular, actually the creator of the show who is trying to make the storm big enough so that is kills Truman.  Just as the water represents life, the storm represents troubles within life, such as loss and betrayal. From each of those troubles or storms in life they will calm to a stronger you or a dead you, and there are those who cause the storms that would like to see the latter. The creator of he show is one of those people, constantly raining other's parades. He could also be compared to Satan who works against you constantly trying to stray you from the path of Life. If you can survive the storm though there is always a clear break at the end.

As Truman battles the last part of the storm, he falters and is plunged into the depths of the sea, he is believed to be dead but manages to hang and climb back into the boat. The creator finally gives the orders to stop assuming that Truman is dead, and when it is revealed he is alive the creator guy doesn't do anything. After the storm the cloud cover broke, and a beautiful blue sky was revealed which meant that Truman made it through that especially hard time in life and came out alive and stronger.  The calm sea that came after the storm is the quiet peace and relief after a particular hard time.

Once fearful of life Truman ended up jumping straight into it and surviving through a rough part to make it to the other side. The horrible storm took its toll, it took things from you, but you survived and it ultimately gave you strength. The light makes it over the horizon, rising to warm your weakened body. The morning comes after a rough night and you breath a sigh of relief, because you made, because you are reborn.

 

 

Response to Public Schools: Anti-Discrimination Against Religion or Anti-Religous

Author's Note: On Abby's blog there is a post titles "Anti-Discrimination Against Religion or Anti-Religious", and I was going to leave a comment on there, but the comment got to long so I am making it a response post. This piece was inspired by Abby, and I would suggest reading her post before reading this.

In Abby's post she talked about how school seems like it is turning anti-religious, instead of anti-discrimination. She talked about how different sites where blocked when she searched a certain religion on Google, and also about how we should learn about different religions. I almost completely agree, with her.

Starting with those sites being blocked, a lot of those sites where forums and school blocks them just because of that and not because of any religious reasons. I don't necessarily agree with them blocking off some forums, but that is not the point of this post. 

When Abby said that we should learn more about other religions, I agreed with her. We learned a little about this stuff in sixth grade, but it was all historical and didn't say anything about customs. Besides it was so boring I almost dropped dead. School should teach us more about different religions, but I don't really think that will ever happen.

So on to the third and last point, about school discriminating against different religions, I don't necessarily believe that is true. I believe that school wants us to believe in one thing that they decide on. I feel that school encourages us not to have a religion, or to believe in evolution as they teach evolution as a fact (biology class in high school). It seems to me that school and society does not want religion, because it might "offend" someone, but why should it offend someone? It is after all my beliefs not theirs.

Solitary

Author's Note: Well me and my sister just finished a National Geographic video on solitary confinement in this one prison in the U.S. What we saw in the video was pretty bad, they didn't even treat the prisoners as if they where people. Every moment they where out of their cell they where in chains, and the wardens made the prisoners strip down quite often, also when one of the people was freed, to drive him out they literally put him in a metal cage.The lady in charge of the facility was saying that they are trying to discipline the prisoners and that solitary confinement is like when parents put there kids in time out, to give them time to think, she seems to think that this is helping when in reality it is not. One prisoner said that after he was let out he was in a store and thought someone was following him so he attacked him, another guy said that he has this hate that he has never had before, this need to hurt things that wasn't there ten years ago. After this they had this study where four people wrote about a time they felt connected and 4 others wrote about a time they felt lonely, they then gave these people cookies, and the ones who where made to feel lonely couldn't control their impulses and ate more cookies. I honestly think that that lady needs to try solitary confinement, then tell me how effective it is. So in this post I kind of meshed everything that the different prisoners said about solitary confinement and what happens to them into one journal entryish, fiction piece.

White bed shoved against a white narrow wall, fluorescent lights sting my eyes as I walk. Back and forth, back and forth, across the worn cement where another has gone back and forth, back and forth.Alone. Sometimes it feels like the walls are closing in on me, tiny barriers between me and the world, keeping me locked inside, squeezing my soul so it has no place to go except where it is now. Where it is being pressed and squeezed until its shattered pieces liter the floor. I wish someone would come and beat me, it would be better than nothing, it would be like heaven just to feel again, to be in the presence of another human being. The tiny strip of a window in the corner of the room casts a ray of light on the floor, trying to trick me into believing that there is hope for a better life, but there isn't. There won't ever be, even if I get out of this place I know I will go crazy. I already am crazy, I have barely any memory. The wind on my face is but a ghost quickly fading into the past, sunlight on my back is but a phantom surging into the dark spaces of my brain. Loneliness overwhelms, but so does hate, an uncontrollable rage seethes beneath my surface waiting to unleash its self upon my wardens. All that is left in my world is nothing, everything is nothing. I lay down on the bed looking for some comfort, Squinting my eyes shut to the white bright, blackness overwhelms and soon I am sucked into a real unreality, people's faces float in front of me, their screams and hurt filled faces, a fire burns bright and loud bangs echo in my head. I wake with a start drenched in sweat and look down to see my filthy blood covered hands. I wish I could forgive myself, but how can I do that when I don't even know what to forgive?So I start screaming, like an animal in a cage, because after all that is all that I am.

Author's Note: I would like to know what you guys think about solitary confinement, and if you know anything good about it I would really like you to post it on a comment, because the video was kind of one sided.