Constant

The big one eight.

On her 18th birthday, littlest Kardashian Kylie Jenner received a Birkin bag (usually around $11,000-15,000), performances from Fetty Wap and Post Malone ($25,000), a joy ride in a private jet ($5,000-12,000/ hour), and a Ferrari 482 Italia ($320,000). She also celebrated her party in the presence of  Zayn Malik and Joe Jonas (priceless!). This is the unrealistic version (clearly not for some people) I had of my 18th birthday growing up as a child.

“Hey! It’s your birthday next week!”

“No, its the week after”

“What? I thought your birthday was the 24th?”

“Oh crap, it is my birthday.”

The last time I got excited for my birthday was in elementary and since then, every birthday is constantly the same. This year, if it weren’t for my friends, I may have actually forgotten my own birthday. Unfortunately, on the morning of my birthday, I didn’t wake up feeling slightly more wise, I woke up to the sound of my dog barking two in the morning and that was the reality of becoming 18. Nothing changed. I blew some candles, ate my favorite foods, and got my birthday money just like any other birthday.

But there are still few perks of being 18. For starters, being able to say I’m 18 is pretty cool. Turning 18 before the 2016 election isn’t too shaby (this is sarcasm, it’s the best part). Also, I can buy the lottery (possibly become addicted) and buy packs of cigarettes (whoopie…). Well that about sums it up.

Favorite novel: Wings, Harry Potter, East of Eden, Ender’s Game, Percy Jackson, Great Gatsby, Joy Luck Club, Fahrenheit 451, White Fang, Hobbit

When we received the assignment of the month, I thought “Sweet, just need to choose my favorite book? That’s going to be easy.” Well, turns out, this assignment is harder than ever. As I sat down in front of my laptop, ready to get a head start on the assignment, I realized, I didn’t have a favorite novel. Usually, when I read a book and I enjoy it, it automatically becomes my favorite novel until the next one. But for the purpose of this assignment, I’ll talk about the Ender’s Game series.

Ender’s family life is… complicated, his sister Valentine wants to protect him and his brother Peter wants to kill him. But no worries, because Colnel Hyrum Graff is here to whisk Ender away to the most awesome destination after Disney World: Battler School. Basically, potential children are taken to Battle School in order to practice becoming strategist  in battle against buggers (giant ants). At Battle School (in space), Ender excels because he understands that there’s no up or down in space. Also because he’s just smarter than everyone, even the older kids. By the way, Ender is only six years old when he is chosen for Battle School (and twelve when he ultimately commits genocide). Back on Earth, Peter an Valentine are taking over the world by posting political opinions online (Although they were both smart like Ender, they didn’t get chosen since Peter was too violent and Valentine was too soft). Anyways, during a computer simulation, Ender wipes out the buggers, but it turns out to be a real war. Ender unknowingly commits an act of genocide and feels terrible. Valentine convinces Ender to go out to a new colony with her. There, Ender discovers that the buggers left him a message to say everything is cool, even though he kind of killed them all off. Except (plot twist!) he didn’t. The buggers left him a bugger pupa in a cocoon so that he can restart the bugger species. Nice way to end the first novel in the sequel.

Why do I love this book? Well first off, Ender is freaking amazing. I have always enjoyed reading a novel, starring a brilliant protagonist, since that keeps everything unpredictable and exciting.. Secondly, this is basically a better version of hunger games without the ridiculous romance. Even though they botched the first movie, I hope they make the whole series evertually. Everyone should go read this now!

Sparse, Simple, Stark – Classic Hemingway

Born in Oak Park, Illinois in 1899, Ernest Hemingway started his career as a writer for a newspaper in Kansas City at the age of 17. Today, his writing is among the most recognizable and influential prose of the twentieth century. Many critics believe his style was influenced by his days as a cub reporter for the Kansas City Star, where he had to rely on short sentences.[1] Hemingway’s technique is uncomplicated, with plain grammar and easily accessible language. His hallmark is a clean style that eschews adjectives and uses short, rhythmic sentences that concentrate on action rather than reflection. Though his writing is often thought as “simple,” this generalization could not be further from the truth. He was an obsessive reviser. His work is the result of a careful process of selecting only those elements essential to the story and pruning everything else away.[2] He kept his prose direct and unadorned, employing a technique he termed the “iceberg principle.” In Death in the Afternoon he wrote, “If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an ice-berg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. A writer who omits things because he does not know them only makes hollow places in his writing[3].”

In addition to his unadorned style of writing, Hemingway is considered a master of dialogue[4]. The conversation between his characters demonstrate not only communication but also its limits. The way Hemingway’s characters speak is sometimes more important than what they say because what they choose to say, or leave unsaid, illuminates sources of inner conflict. Sometimes characters say only what they think another character will want to hear.

Two of his most famous short stories, “Hills like White Elephants,” and “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place,” are great examples of the two styles of writing Hemingway uses most frequently: simple prose and direct dialogue. Both of these short stories are written mostly in dialogue only using description when necessary. In “Hills like White Elephants,” it is difficult to differentiate the appearance between reality. The seemingly petty conversation about hills and drinks and an unspecified operation is in actuality an unarticulated but decisive struggle between two characters, Jig and the man. These two argue over whether they continue to live the sterile, self-indulgent, decadent life preferred by the man or elect to have the child that Jig is carrying and settle down to a conventional but, in Jig’s view, rewarding, fruitful, and peaceful life.[5] Hemingway writes in a way that seems like he himself is indifferent both to the characters and to the reader. He pretends to be merely an objective observer content to report without comment the words and actions of these two people. Hemingway does not have access to their thoughts and does not try to interpret their emotional quality of their words or movements by using adjectives or adverbs instead he simply records the dialogue.

Similarly, in “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place,” there is a “not so obvious” conflict between the older characters and the younger one. The story deals with characters who have different visions of the meaning of time – the youngest man values it, but the older characters don’t. The oldest character, a man near the end of his life, is simply passing the time until he dies, even attempting suicide in the process.[6] Hemingway’s style contributes to the bleak outlook of the story. Instead of hearing about the despair of the old man, phrased eloquently and poetically over a span of pages, we simply get a direct punch to the story. Its extreme shortness makes its point all the more powerful, and the direct reportage of dialogue and inner monologue are far more effective to his story than any descriptive line. In short, Hemingway captures the complexity of human interaction through subtlety and implication as well as direct discourse.

The powerful impact of Hemingway’s writing on other authors continues to this day. Writers as diverse as Bret Easton Ellis, Chuck Palahniuk, Elmore Leonard, and Hunter S. Thompson have credited him with contributing to their styles. Direct, personal writing full of rich imagery was Hemingway’s goal. Nearly fifty years after his death, his distinctive prose is still recognizable by its economy and controlled understatement.[7]

 

[1] http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1954/hemingway-bio.html

[2] http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1954/hemingway-bio.html

[3] http://relevance.com/ride-the-iceberg-using-hemingways-iceberg-theory-for-content-marketing/

[4] http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1954/hemingway-bio.html

[5]http://www.massey.ac.nz/massey/fms/Colleges/College%20of%20Humanities%20and%20Social%20Sciences/EMS/Readings/139.105/Additional/Hills%20Like%20White%20Elephants%20-%20Ernest%20Hemingway.pdf

[6] http://www.mrbauld.com/hemclean.html

[7] http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1954/hemingway-bio.html

 

Flippant

Ignorance is bliss.                                                                   As senioritis is kicking in, I have taken on this flippant attitude towards schoolwork, and generally anything outside of Netflix. While I enjoyed my three weeks of winterbreak, the school needs to seriously reconsider giving us that much time off. It is nearly impossible to get back to school mode after three weeks of lounging around in my mickey mouse pajama, watching every television show I see an ad of while stuffing my face with stovetop popcorn. Senioritis is just an another excuse to blame our decline of motivation in school work. Yet, I still use it to justify the same ritual of procrastination that has been going on for four years of high school. The new year resolutions I swore by are no longer in my memory.

After all, whatever happens, happens.

Gratitude through Happiness

In our fast-paced culture, it is easy to get to the end of a busy day and realize we never stopped to be grateful even once, in spite of the fact that at least one of the following took place:

We woke up.

We had food to eat.

We had a roof over our head.

We had access to clean water.

We received a compliment.

We heard something that made us smile.

We met new people.

We gained knowledge.

We made it through the day.

The tendency to let these gifts go by without noticing them is why developing some kind of gratitude practice important. A simple way to express gratitude is through being happy as novelist Joseph Wood Krutch explains, “Happiness itself is a kind of gratitude.” So I developed a little recipe for happiness.

2 heaping cups of patience

2 handfuls of generosity

1 heart, full of love

1 spoonful of joy

A dash of laughter

generous sprinkles of kindness

plenty of faith

Combine patience, love, and generosity with 1 spoonful of joy. Add a dash of laughter and sprinkle generously with kindness. Mix in plenty of faith. Blend all ingredients tenderly with care. Spread over a period of a lifetime. Serve everyone you meet. 

 

 

Proactive

No, not Proactive the acne cleanser, but proactive, controlling a situation by causing something to happen rather than responding to it after it has happened. For the first month during my senior year, I was proactive. Sure, I still became distracted when my favorite TV show was on, watched the premiere of Mockingjay, went Black Friday shopping, and….The point is, I took control of my school life. During the month of November, I manage to crunch up two major essays in three days, submit my UC Applications, and take multiple tests while still producing praiseworthy results. Not only did I manage to complete all my impending assignments, I spent quality time with my family and friends who I made sure to tell “thank you.” For always accepting the good, the bad, and the ugly. Often times, I forget all the love I do receive and only remember the injustice and think, “why me?” As this month of gratitude passes by, I try to hold the moment in my hand, and lock it away safely in my drawer, remembering the things I am thankful for.

Disdainful Turtle

So I’m a turtle. What’s your point? Being a turtle is the best. We get to swim, lay in the sun, and chill in the shade. You know how some people say a turtles shell is like a house? A house? Really? It’s a freaking mansion in here. I’ve got an HD 3D Blu-ray TV hooked up just above my right leg, a cooler to keep my beer nice and cooled, and a memory foamed mattress that I lay on all day. I’ve just finished the dining room, located next to my hind leg. To top it all off, this shell of mine is tough as stopping a filibuster! Granted, the computer next to my left leg is a little bashed up from me walking around all day, but I’m not complaining. Like I said, being a turtle is the best.

a8e9e1888a29c4095993417f02866e2fNow don’t start mistaking me for a Tortoise. Sure, we both have scales and hard shells, but don’t think for a moment I am slow as the tortoises you see. We turtles are much faster than our land counterparts the Tortoise. We also don’t have to suck up to you humans to receive a piece of a breadstick or ask you for shelter. We fend for ourselves, avoiding sharks, large squids, and orcas in the ocean, and we have the great privilege of eating jellyfish almost daily. And the best part, we get to enjoy the crepuscular ray that shines from the sunset all the way down to the ocean. I should of taken a picture for you all.

Don’t get me wrong, we turtles and tortoises are not mortal enemies. We love them, they love us. But after hearing humans confusing a tortoise for a turtle, I thought I should explain. Well I know this is an esoteric matter, but I mean how would you like it if I started calling apes, humans? Repulsive right? Long as you get it, that’s fantastic. Oh, look at the time, it’s already five o’clock. The sunset is calling me.

Ephemeral

Everyday in October I repeated to myself, “tomorrow for sure.” Then tomorrow came, and I let it pass by like New Year resolutions. While I know that wasting my time with countless nights of Netflix binge watching or going out with friends for a quick night out is not the wisest decision, I let the moment consume me. I promise myself to be more productive, but at the sight of fun, I grab on without haste. As I try to replay this month, nothing particular jumps out. Even though I should be able to remember the bliss from homecoming, the distress from taking the ACT, and the thrill from Halloween, October is a blur. Again, I allowed the ephemeral time to glide by me without a second thought and all I can repeat is “tomorrow for sure.”