The meanings of the author in both poems "Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell and "Field Below" by Regina Spektor, are that you don't no what you've got until it's gone. Both of the authors are talking about how the nature around them was sucked up by the big city that they both live in. The mood of Joni and Regina are anger towards the nature around them that is now gone and the tone is disappointment and anger.
Both of the author's turned their poems into songs and the mood and tone of them are very different between the two. In the song "Big Yellow Taxi", it is fast paced and almost sounds happy. But, like I said before, her intentions of the poem were to express her anger, not happiness. In the song "Field Below", it is very slow paced and it seems like she is really agonizing over what is happening around her. I did not think that the song would be that long and dreary because her poem had a pretty consistent rhyme pattern which usually means it is going to go faster.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Non-Autistic Experience
Author’s Note: This piece is about how the book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon would be different if it were not written in the first person view of Christopher, a 15 yr. old with autism. My purpose for writing is for my first 4th quarter writing conference.
Just imagine, have specified rules that only you have to follow. Think about being made fun of for a disease that you were born with. Lastly, I want you to dream about having the inspiration to investigate, and hunt down a dog murderer while your father is yelling at you not to. This is what happens to a fifteen year old, autistic kid named Christopher goes through in the story, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon. In his class at school, he was given an assignment to write a novel. Of course it happened that Christopher’s favorite neighborhood dog was murder that night and he was going to write a mystery book about who killed it. However, he happened to write the book in his point of view which made it go on and on. If the novel that Christopher wrote was in his father’s point of view, the story would be a lot less sidetracking, an actual plotline, and less complexity of writing in the book.
In The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, the autistic character named Christopher, sidetracks a lot from the main concept of the story which was who killed Wellington. One chapter, he would be talking about the actual plot and the next he would be telling us about the frogs in the pond by his school. This happened throughout the whole book and it turned probably a one hundred and fifty page book into 228 pages. Clearly then, the novel would have been a whole lot less off topic if it were written in the first person view of Christopher’s dad.
Furthermore, there would be an actual plot for the events in the story if it were written in his dad’s mind. With the random subject changes, it is hard to distinguish the different events on the line. But without all of the random segways, the book would have a constant plot including rising and falling events, the climax, and the resolution. It would make the story a lot easier to read and more enjoyable because there would actually be investigating instead of having the police do all of the work.
In addition, as an autistic child Christopher is made fun of at school by being called names like ‘dumb’ or ‘stupid’. Actually though, he is a really intelligent kid. In the story, he went through and showed us many hard and complicated math problems that he faced along his mystery and his journey to London, where his Mother lives. Also he is a great writer and probably had no trouble at all writing the two hundred and twenty eight page story. On the other hand, his father is not as smart as the fifteen year old, considering that he works for a heating and cooling corporation. Therefore, the book would not be as long as it was and it would be less descriptive.
In conclusion, the novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time would have an actual plotline, would be less sidetracked, and there would be worse writing in the book if it were his dad who wrote it. This book was very unique because the viewpoint it was in was not a normal person. It shows you and anyone who reads it that people with disabilities and borne illnesses are smarter than they look and that they can do anything that normal people can.
Just imagine, have specified rules that only you have to follow. Think about being made fun of for a disease that you were born with. Lastly, I want you to dream about having the inspiration to investigate, and hunt down a dog murderer while your father is yelling at you not to. This is what happens to a fifteen year old, autistic kid named Christopher goes through in the story, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon. In his class at school, he was given an assignment to write a novel. Of course it happened that Christopher’s favorite neighborhood dog was murder that night and he was going to write a mystery book about who killed it. However, he happened to write the book in his point of view which made it go on and on. If the novel that Christopher wrote was in his father’s point of view, the story would be a lot less sidetracking, an actual plotline, and less complexity of writing in the book.
In The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, the autistic character named Christopher, sidetracks a lot from the main concept of the story which was who killed Wellington. One chapter, he would be talking about the actual plot and the next he would be telling us about the frogs in the pond by his school. This happened throughout the whole book and it turned probably a one hundred and fifty page book into 228 pages. Clearly then, the novel would have been a whole lot less off topic if it were written in the first person view of Christopher’s dad.
Furthermore, there would be an actual plot for the events in the story if it were written in his dad’s mind. With the random subject changes, it is hard to distinguish the different events on the line. But without all of the random segways, the book would have a constant plot including rising and falling events, the climax, and the resolution. It would make the story a lot easier to read and more enjoyable because there would actually be investigating instead of having the police do all of the work.
In addition, as an autistic child Christopher is made fun of at school by being called names like ‘dumb’ or ‘stupid’. Actually though, he is a really intelligent kid. In the story, he went through and showed us many hard and complicated math problems that he faced along his mystery and his journey to London, where his Mother lives. Also he is a great writer and probably had no trouble at all writing the two hundred and twenty eight page story. On the other hand, his father is not as smart as the fifteen year old, considering that he works for a heating and cooling corporation. Therefore, the book would not be as long as it was and it would be less descriptive.
In conclusion, the novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time would have an actual plotline, would be less sidetracked, and there would be worse writing in the book if it were his dad who wrote it. This book was very unique because the viewpoint it was in was not a normal person. It shows you and anyone who reads it that people with disabilities and borne illnesses are smarter than they look and that they can do anything that normal people can.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
"This is Just to Say" Parody
Your mom is alive,
She didn’t die.
She was seeing someone else,
So I kicked her out.
And which
You probably
Thought
She was dead.
Forgive me
She sucked
And I’m glad
She’s outta my life
This relates to our novel because it is about how Christopher’s mom cheated on his dad with Mr. Shears. This poem is from Christopher’s dad’s point of view, and it is written towards Christopher. Its tone and mood was very sad at first but then got sarcastic at the end because his dad was glad his cheater of a wife was gone.
She didn’t die.
She was seeing someone else,
So I kicked her out.
And which
You probably
Thought
She was dead.
Forgive me
She sucked
And I’m glad
She’s outta my life
This relates to our novel because it is about how Christopher’s mom cheated on his dad with Mr. Shears. This poem is from Christopher’s dad’s point of view, and it is written towards Christopher. Its tone and mood was very sad at first but then got sarcastic at the end because his dad was glad his cheater of a wife was gone.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
The Herculean, Perspicacious Thing in the Cave
Author’s Note: This is a “Guess Who I am” piece and my purpose for writing this is to get a 10 in Word Choice and Context
The excitement bubbles up inside me and forces me to tremble, when I’m taking kids’ disheartening dreams from their sleeping thoughts and giving them a whole new, wonderful fantasy. The weather tonight in this muted, little town was lovely with warmth and a bit of wind. The breeze was like Aeolus, the Greek god of wind, was blowing gently on the Earth and on my wrinkled face. As I was making my final pass around the small civilization, a child’s head popped out of the window and starred straight at me with her little beady eyes. Once she saw me, I had no choice but to grab her out of the opening in the building and dash back to my home in Giant Country.
As I returned to the cave that I’ve called home for many years, I set the minor down on the table and dashed to the jar table, where I put all of my captured dreams into jars. On my way back from my work station, I passed a mirror. Now, this was the first time that I have looked at me in a long time and it shocked me at what I saw. As usual, my ears were the great big parasails in the bright blue skies but everything else was alternated eminently. The hair on my chin was grown like the untrimmed lawn in front of my cavern and my face was as wrinkly as my fingertips get in water. But overall, I didn’t look to bad for a century old, man!
The depths of my cave are actually not that abysmal at all. When approaching the door to my cavity of a home, a boulder, you would think that the inside was dusty and full of wildlife creatures. But as you roll aside the four ton object, the area around you would light up in the glows of the many shining dreams on the shelves and lights above. My cave is sometimes, pretty cramped, but is one of the most secure places in the world. It has a grand bathroom the size of three elephants, a dining room for eating the nasty snozzcumbers, and a room to keep all of the dreams that I have arrayed over the years. This algid environment is a perfect place to sleep at nights, unlike the flesh-eating giants, who sleep during the blistering warm days, and take their victims and nights.
Outside of cool rocky abode, there is an arid wasteland ready to reach out and grab any precipitation in its reach. Now this blazing place is where the nine flesh eating giants sleep until it’s time for them to go catch some homo sapiens for dinner. There’s Bonecruncher, Manhugger, Childchewer, Meatdripper, Gizzardgulper, Maidmasher, Bloodbottler, Butcher Boy, and worst of all, Fleshlumpeater. These dastardly giants go out during the nighttime to their favorite tasting countries and then they snatch kids and parents out of their rooms and down them gulp by gulp, and chomp by chomp. And what do I eat myself you say? Well, I frown upon eating humans so I consume the only apparatus that there is left in Giant Country, which happens to be a foul vegetable called the snozzcumber. These sour, soggy, sickening, soiled, squalid snozzcumbers are the worst food that you will ever try. But, I go through the horrid plant for the sake of the human beings, and that is all that matters.
As the exciting day of a giant in Giant country comes to a close, I am back where I started. Shaking ecstatically to see what type of dream comes out of a little child’s sleeping, but imaginative mind. Is it a trogglehumper or just a nightmare with an awful ending like being guzzled by a 48 ft giant? Or maybe the little sprout is lucky and has a great dream with an endeavor or all the candy he can think of. I bet the next time though, when I give the girl with the little beady eyes a golden phizzwizard, it is going to be the story of her and a Herculean figure like me, vanishing to Giant Country.
The excitement bubbles up inside me and forces me to tremble, when I’m taking kids’ disheartening dreams from their sleeping thoughts and giving them a whole new, wonderful fantasy. The weather tonight in this muted, little town was lovely with warmth and a bit of wind. The breeze was like Aeolus, the Greek god of wind, was blowing gently on the Earth and on my wrinkled face. As I was making my final pass around the small civilization, a child’s head popped out of the window and starred straight at me with her little beady eyes. Once she saw me, I had no choice but to grab her out of the opening in the building and dash back to my home in Giant Country.
As I returned to the cave that I’ve called home for many years, I set the minor down on the table and dashed to the jar table, where I put all of my captured dreams into jars. On my way back from my work station, I passed a mirror. Now, this was the first time that I have looked at me in a long time and it shocked me at what I saw. As usual, my ears were the great big parasails in the bright blue skies but everything else was alternated eminently. The hair on my chin was grown like the untrimmed lawn in front of my cavern and my face was as wrinkly as my fingertips get in water. But overall, I didn’t look to bad for a century old, man!
The depths of my cave are actually not that abysmal at all. When approaching the door to my cavity of a home, a boulder, you would think that the inside was dusty and full of wildlife creatures. But as you roll aside the four ton object, the area around you would light up in the glows of the many shining dreams on the shelves and lights above. My cave is sometimes, pretty cramped, but is one of the most secure places in the world. It has a grand bathroom the size of three elephants, a dining room for eating the nasty snozzcumbers, and a room to keep all of the dreams that I have arrayed over the years. This algid environment is a perfect place to sleep at nights, unlike the flesh-eating giants, who sleep during the blistering warm days, and take their victims and nights.
Outside of cool rocky abode, there is an arid wasteland ready to reach out and grab any precipitation in its reach. Now this blazing place is where the nine flesh eating giants sleep until it’s time for them to go catch some homo sapiens for dinner. There’s Bonecruncher, Manhugger, Childchewer, Meatdripper, Gizzardgulper, Maidmasher, Bloodbottler, Butcher Boy, and worst of all, Fleshlumpeater. These dastardly giants go out during the nighttime to their favorite tasting countries and then they snatch kids and parents out of their rooms and down them gulp by gulp, and chomp by chomp. And what do I eat myself you say? Well, I frown upon eating humans so I consume the only apparatus that there is left in Giant Country, which happens to be a foul vegetable called the snozzcumber. These sour, soggy, sickening, soiled, squalid snozzcumbers are the worst food that you will ever try. But, I go through the horrid plant for the sake of the human beings, and that is all that matters.
As the exciting day of a giant in Giant country comes to a close, I am back where I started. Shaking ecstatically to see what type of dream comes out of a little child’s sleeping, but imaginative mind. Is it a trogglehumper or just a nightmare with an awful ending like being guzzled by a 48 ft giant? Or maybe the little sprout is lucky and has a great dream with an endeavor or all the candy he can think of. I bet the next time though, when I give the girl with the little beady eyes a golden phizzwizard, it is going to be the story of her and a Herculean figure like me, vanishing to Giant Country.
The Poem of the Renaissance
Author’s Note: This is a short response about the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes and the purpose for writing is to get a ten in word choice and context.
In the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes, the figurative language clearly expresses the tone and the main idea and tone that the author wanted. The sentences, “Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair” and “I’se been a-climbin’ on” are the two examples that really catch my eyes as the two figurative examples. The purposes of these sentences are that life is not always going to be smooth and easy (like a crystal) and the other one shows how she has had to work and or ‘climb’ to reach her goal. Lastly, the tone and mood are conveyed and that is sad and depressing for the Mother because she had such a hard life but perseverance while talking to her son to get through the hard times. Overall, the figurative language is expressed elegantly and in the right spots to set the tone and the mood of the characters’ surroundings.
In the poem “Mother to Son” by Langston Hughes, the figurative language clearly expresses the tone and the main idea and tone that the author wanted. The sentences, “Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair” and “I’se been a-climbin’ on” are the two examples that really catch my eyes as the two figurative examples. The purposes of these sentences are that life is not always going to be smooth and easy (like a crystal) and the other one shows how she has had to work and or ‘climb’ to reach her goal. Lastly, the tone and mood are conveyed and that is sad and depressing for the Mother because she had such a hard life but perseverance while talking to her son to get through the hard times. Overall, the figurative language is expressed elegantly and in the right spots to set the tone and the mood of the characters’ surroundings.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Chrisopher John Francis Boon
These two paragraphs are about the characteristics of Christopher James Francis Boon
Christopher John Francis Boon is exactly 6 foot 2 with hickory brown hair, powder blue eyes, and black glasses. He is 15 years, 3 months, and 2 days old autistic kid who his a lot smarter than some people realize, although they are probably just prejudicing. The family members that he has are his father and his pet rabbit Toby. His mother had just died of a heart attack and he did not seem to mad which meant that he was not that close to her. Since he is autistic, he doesn't like being touched and he always does things in logical order. If not he usually freaks out which usually gets him in trouble. But like I said before, he is really intelligent and would never purposely hurt anyone.
Christopher knows every prime number up 7,057 and it takes him barely any time to do very difficult equations. When he grows up he wants to be an astronaut or something that includes math. Although he knows the he is different, he is confident that there are chances for him in the real world. He also wants to write a novel about an event that happened in his life. He is truly a special and enthusiastic kid. No matter what life throws at him, he is going to shine through everything and make a name for himself.
Christopher John Francis Boon is exactly 6 foot 2 with hickory brown hair, powder blue eyes, and black glasses. He is 15 years, 3 months, and 2 days old autistic kid who his a lot smarter than some people realize, although they are probably just prejudicing. The family members that he has are his father and his pet rabbit Toby. His mother had just died of a heart attack and he did not seem to mad which meant that he was not that close to her. Since he is autistic, he doesn't like being touched and he always does things in logical order. If not he usually freaks out which usually gets him in trouble. But like I said before, he is really intelligent and would never purposely hurt anyone.
Christopher knows every prime number up 7,057 and it takes him barely any time to do very difficult equations. When he grows up he wants to be an astronaut or something that includes math. Although he knows the he is different, he is confident that there are chances for him in the real world. He also wants to write a novel about an event that happened in his life. He is truly a special and enthusiastic kid. No matter what life throws at him, he is going to shine through everything and make a name for himself.
The Gluttony Games
Author’s Note: This is a parody of the story, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and the purpose for writing is to complete one of my goals (creative piece).
“And from district twelve, Primrose Everdeen!”
Primrose started crying, because the overwhelming thought of exercise was too much for her. As soon as I saw this I jumped up from the crowd and screamed, “I volunteer to take her place for district 12!” Primrose looked at me in awe and said, “Katniss, you don’t have to do this!” but I said that I must.
The crowd gasped in astonishment as I said this because it is always the worst thing to happen in a year in Panem. What happens is two tributes are picked from each district to fight it out to the death but to ultimately find the golden donut. This trophy per say, is hidden in the arena and whoever finds it and escapes the arena alive wins the games.
This was of course a worry for me because I didn’t know how to kill or exercise or anything like that so training was going to be really tough on me.
Once all of the tributes were chosen from the sacred pizza box, we were loaded into a car and we went to a large building. There we chose our weapons of expertise, were given our rooms, and we begun our training. For my weapon, I chose the asparagus bow and arrow because I know that most of the contestants are allergic to it because it is so healthy. We got to train for a week and it was actually not as terrible as I thought it was going to be. The only bad part was when I had to go on the stationary bike for ten minutes because my legs cannot peddle that well.
My agenda during the week was as follows:
1. Wake up and eat a super healthy breakfast(which I hate)
2. Do my morning training session
3. Eat lunch and talk to Peeta(The other tribute from my district who might like me)
4. Afternoon training session
5. Dinner and talk to Peeta more
6. Go to Bed
After the long and grueling week, we were all finally transported to our individual start lines at the entrance to the arena. The crowd around us was going wild and I couldn’t even hear the thoughts inside my head. Finally, the gluttonous chancellor came to the microphone and told everyone to quiet down. She said, “Welcome everyone to the Gluttony Games!” After taking in a long breath from the energy draining shout, she continued. “You must cheer as hard as you can for your district’s tributes because the tributes district that wins gets a life supply of all of the sugary treats you can think of! And to the tributes, try as hard as you can for your district and don’t let your country down!” The chancellor pressed a button with her pudgy index finger and a countdown began. 3…..2…..1…… GO!!! The doors to the arena opened, we all ran in, and my life as I knew it, was now long gone.
************************************************************************************
It was the worst month of my existence on this planet. It was gruesome, but my weapon was proven to the best because I won. I only had to kill one person and it breaks my heart to say the it was Peeta. It happened so quickly. He was about to kiss me when I stabbed him with his celery stick and he died instantly. I eventually found the golden donut ina tree and had no problem slowly returning to my starting spot where there was a huge celebration awaiting me. When I saw Primrose, she jumped up to me and thanked me graciously. After that, everything went back to normal life where I hunted with my best friend Gale and we lived happily ever after!
“And from district twelve, Primrose Everdeen!”
Primrose started crying, because the overwhelming thought of exercise was too much for her. As soon as I saw this I jumped up from the crowd and screamed, “I volunteer to take her place for district 12!” Primrose looked at me in awe and said, “Katniss, you don’t have to do this!” but I said that I must.
The crowd gasped in astonishment as I said this because it is always the worst thing to happen in a year in Panem. What happens is two tributes are picked from each district to fight it out to the death but to ultimately find the golden donut. This trophy per say, is hidden in the arena and whoever finds it and escapes the arena alive wins the games.
This was of course a worry for me because I didn’t know how to kill or exercise or anything like that so training was going to be really tough on me.
Once all of the tributes were chosen from the sacred pizza box, we were loaded into a car and we went to a large building. There we chose our weapons of expertise, were given our rooms, and we begun our training. For my weapon, I chose the asparagus bow and arrow because I know that most of the contestants are allergic to it because it is so healthy. We got to train for a week and it was actually not as terrible as I thought it was going to be. The only bad part was when I had to go on the stationary bike for ten minutes because my legs cannot peddle that well.
My agenda during the week was as follows:
1. Wake up and eat a super healthy breakfast(which I hate)
2. Do my morning training session
3. Eat lunch and talk to Peeta(The other tribute from my district who might like me)
4. Afternoon training session
5. Dinner and talk to Peeta more
6. Go to Bed
After the long and grueling week, we were all finally transported to our individual start lines at the entrance to the arena. The crowd around us was going wild and I couldn’t even hear the thoughts inside my head. Finally, the gluttonous chancellor came to the microphone and told everyone to quiet down. She said, “Welcome everyone to the Gluttony Games!” After taking in a long breath from the energy draining shout, she continued. “You must cheer as hard as you can for your district’s tributes because the tributes district that wins gets a life supply of all of the sugary treats you can think of! And to the tributes, try as hard as you can for your district and don’t let your country down!” The chancellor pressed a button with her pudgy index finger and a countdown began. 3…..2…..1…… GO!!! The doors to the arena opened, we all ran in, and my life as I knew it, was now long gone.
************************************************************************************
It was the worst month of my existence on this planet. It was gruesome, but my weapon was proven to the best because I won. I only had to kill one person and it breaks my heart to say the it was Peeta. It happened so quickly. He was about to kiss me when I stabbed him with his celery stick and he died instantly. I eventually found the golden donut ina tree and had no problem slowly returning to my starting spot where there was a huge celebration awaiting me. When I saw Primrose, she jumped up to me and thanked me graciously. After that, everything went back to normal life where I hunted with my best friend Gale and we lived happily ever after!
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