Journal #20- Cycle of Life

The cycle of life starts at the atomic level of everything.  Before anything is born of formed, it must start as a single cell.  The amazing life species on this planet all begin as particles so small that only the strongest microscope can see it.  As life progresses to grow, the cells multiply and form entire beings.  This is the incredible way of beginning a life.  There is so much science behind the forming of life, that we may never understand exactly what occurs.  After birth, humans continue to grow and learn and mature for the next twenty years.  They go from being only a few inches long to five of six feet long. The cycle of life is very impressive.  After years of living on the colorful and large planet earth, all humans die.  This is the sad fact of life. After just a few days after death, do not smell very good.  This is when the next cycle of life comes in.  Though it might not be true for human deaths due to coffins and burial grounds, animals play a significant role in the life cycle.  The foul smelling carcasses of animals serve as food for some animal scavengers and as fertilizer for the soil.  So even in death, bodies continue to have an impact on the world.  From here parasites and insects prey on the remaining carcass.  Though it might seem gross and wrong, it keeps the creatures alive.  The wondrous life cycle is so great because it never really ends.  The sights, smells, and tastes of everything we are have thousands of life forms related to it.  The food chain is one way of describing the life cycle, but it is more than just that.  Life includes everything from a single cell to the Redwood trees of California.  The cycle of life has an influence on every part of our short lives, and we should not take its blessings for granted. 

Journal #19- Patriotic Poem

It was the dark of night, cold December,

Where even the heroes of old would shutter.

A night that would be ever remembered,

Around the campfire the soldiers did mutter, 

About weather, long missed family, and frost bite. 

When all of the sudden aloft went a cry. 

To the river we march this grave snowy night
After Gen Washington led the  goodbye.

Every man hoped to see the morning ground
Across the Delaware the soldiers tread,
Their solemn ranks never making a sound.
The freezing air all around seemed dead
No bird in the air for noise to resound.  
"No soldier can move" the general said
Or alert the enemy troops would be
To our hidden position they would see

Arrived they did with no incident
The falling snow behaved as a shroud
This definitely was no coincident.
The soldiers crept, still hiding in a cloud
Until they attacked the enemies camp
To them seemed very contradictory.
The patriots came out as reigning champs
And to them went the flag of victory.

Journal #18- More Sensory Writing

As I pondered the multitude of eyes beaming at me from the magnificent creature, I forgot to look at the rest of its gigantic body.  The emerald spheres gazing down upon me captivated my attention and I could not withdraw my gaze.  The multitude of eyes, twelve to be exact, were looking back at me with as much wonder as me at him.  I could not understand how such a huge creature found its way into this dark and frigid cave.  Once I finally ripped my gaze from its monstrous eyes, I glimpsed the rest of its body.  From my perspective, it appeared to be a dragon of some sort.  I was not really afraid, but definitely weary of its tremendous power.  I was not sure what its capabilities were, I only knew that its full attention was fixed on me.  As I looked closer, I saw that its shining fur was actually deep blue scales.  For minutes I stood there and gazed upon its color and majesty.  Though it only had one neck, all twelve of the eyes were located above the nostril.  That is when I smelled it. A strong blast of smoke hit me in a fraction of a second.  It was so strong I could practically taste it.  I tripped over my own feet backwards and gave a yelp.  The huge and powerful creature also cringed and retracted his neck.  I looked up at it and it looked back at me inquisitively.  I cautiously got up and stepped closer.  The smell of smoke, specifically burnt metal still hung in the air, but it did bother me as much.  I steadily walked closer until I was close enough to touch those magnificent scales.  I reached out across the gap of a few feet and came in contact with a smooth surface.  The scales were hard yet slick.  They were like ice that would never melt.  Even the temperature of them matched that of ice.  I was truly amazed with this encounter.

Journal #17- Sensory Writing

As the light blue fuzz feathered through the warm current of air purring from the heating vent, I envisioned a comfy summer morning.  Very different from the frigid temperatures and wet snow that the months of February always seem to bring.  In my class-time daydream, I pictured a warm morning sunshine breaking through the clouds to introduce a new day to the in world.  The sound of birds chirping and chipmunks squeaking only added to the feel of a spectacular day.  I recognized the sound of a fresh wind off of the lake found in our back yard; the sound of leaves rustling in that wind, and our neighbor's dog barking.  As I stood up from my imagined nap on the deck, a caught a whiff of the smell of fresh cut grass that I had mowed the day before.  The feel of the deck under my bare feet and the warmth from the sun reminded me of the cookies my mom said she was making today.  I entered my house and smelled the freshly baked cookies.  They almost smelled as good as they taste.  I snatched one off of the grey baking pan and took a bite out of the still warm cookie.  The chocolate chips just added to the sweet taste, and I thought I could live off of these cookies forever.  I savored the flavor in my mouth and told myself again that it was a great day.  Then all of a sudden I was jolted from this relaxing dream.  Back in the frigid classroom, the ear-racking bell had just rung to wake me up.  The bustling movement all around me signaled that school was dismissed for the day.  As I got up and walked into the hallway, the smell of body odor and too much cologne caught me by surprise.  Another festive day at school was over, and it was time to head out into the windy and chilly outdoors.  

Journal #16- Differences

Most people tend to judge others by what they wear and other physical features.  Last school year our school had a very good track team.  I was a member of the distance squad, and we are very different from any other group in this school.  We like to say that we have no shame with who we are, and our two senior captain last year would demonstrate this by wearing short shorts.  It was comical to see other peoples reactions to their clothing chose.  Some people made fun of them, others snickered, while still others complimented them.  They were pretty high up on the social hierarchy of high schoolers, so most people were just joking around.  They were not ashamed of wearing such short shorts, and I admired their self- confidence and their willingness to go against the norm.  Eventually, they got me and Dan into wearing short shorts also, so now we are the ones to carry on the tradition.  I noticed that when I started to wear short shorts, people tended to stare at me more than was usual.  Others do not expect me to change my style, and it was an insecurity that I had to overcome.  After wearing this style of running clothes for almost a year, I am perfectly comfortable with who I am.  When someone suddenly changes their style of clothing, it confuses others.  Many people find comfort or acceptance by wearing a certain style, so changing it up makes them feel insecure.  Most people are quick to judge appearances, so this is another reason why most people are hesitant to change styles.  It is pretty sad that we as humans can be so superficial at times.  We are slow to complements and quick to offending comments.   So next time someone changes his or her style, I will compliment them instead of being quick to judge.

Journal #15- Goodbyes

Goodbyes are very hard to say when you know that you will not see someone for a very long time.  This has occurred on a few occasions in my life.  When I moved from Minnesota to Illinois when I was six, I was forced to say goodbye to my friends and extended family.  Saying goodbye to my grandparents who I used to visit at least once a week was the hardest part.  I still greatly miss them, and visiting their farm to help out around the place.  I made many of my best childhood memories at their place, so it was hard to leave them behind.  It has now been ten years since my family moved from Minnesota, but I still love going to visit my grandparents.  We stay in contact by occasionally calling or skyping each other.  Usually once a year my family makes a trip back up their to visit them.  This is normally at Christmas time so that we can see the other members of our extended family also.  Besides these very rare visits, I really do not get to see my grandparents.  This is the same for the other side of my family also.  My mom's parents moved from Minnesota to Missouri around the same time we moved to Illinois.  They are six hours away, so not quite as far as Minnesota.  I still only get to see them a few times a year.  I also have  an aunt and uncle that moved to London, England, and I have not seen them for four years.  The amazing technology of this era has allowed my family to remain in contact with them, but it is just not the same as seeing them face- to -face.  With my nearest extended family six hours away, we have to learn to be thankful for the technology we possess to stay in contact with loved ones. I miss my grandparents and extended family on both sides of my family, but I enjoy the rare chances I get to see them.

The Pit and the Pedullum Romanticism

      The Romanticism period was born out of a reaction to the Rationalism period of the eighteenth century.  Emotions and individual identity took the place of logic and central reasoning.  New forms of literature rose to complement these ideas.  The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe exemplifies the Romanticism period by its inspiration from legend, theme of individual freedom under pressure of death, and emphasis on emotion rather than reason.  

      Poe demonstrates Romanticism by using inspiration from myth and legend.  The context of this short story was the imprisonment of a heretic by the Spanish Inquisition and the horrors that he faced.   By using the legends of the Inquisition, Poe set the tone for a murky story that reflects Romanticism.  The context also helps promote the purpose of the story.  “Focusing on a character under sentence of death and aware of it, it moves the character into a concrete dilemma that seems to ‘stand for’ a metaphysical situation in an ambiguous way that suggests its ‘dreamy,’ ‘indeterminate’ nature. In this story we find the most explicit statement in Poe's fiction of his sense of the blurry line between dream and reality” (May). 

      Another factor that places The Pit and the Pendulum in the Romanticism period is its theme of individual freedom under pressure of death.  Even though the prisoner is continually tortured mentally and physically, he never completely loses hope.  Unlike the rationalism period, Poe uses the character’s emotions and thoughts to explain his situation and conquer his own self.  “I could no longer doubt the doom prepared for me by my monkish ingenuity in torture.  My cognizance of the pit had become known to the Inquisitorial agents-the pit whose horrors had been destined for so bold a recusant as myself” (Poe 269).  Even though his captors had taken away his physical rights, he still had the freedom of his mind, in which they could not take away without his consent. 

      Finally, Edgar Allan Poe demonstrates romanticism by his appeal to emotion rather than reason.  On multiple occasions, it was the prisoner’s emotions that saved him from the logical decision to kill himself before a more painful way came around to do it for him.  “There rushed to my mind a half formed thought of joy- of hope.  Yet what business had I with hope?  It was, as I say, a half formed thought- man has many such which are never completed” (Poe 270).  It was the emotion of hope, rather than the appeal to reason that kept the prisoner sane, and gave him the drive to not give into death. 

      The Pit and the Pendulum demonstrates the Romanticism writing style by its inspiration from legend and focus on emotions and individual identity.   Through the use of these techniques, the author appeals to the reader’s feelings, rather than appealing to their sense of reason.  Edgar Allan Poe personified the dark Romanticism of the nineteenth century with short stories like this one.  

May, Charles E. "Alternate Realms of Reality." In Edgar Allan Poe: A Study of Short Fiction. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1991, pp. 96–97. Quoted as "Dreams and Reality in the Story" in Harold Bloom, ed. Edgar Allan Poe, Bloom's Major Short Story Writers. Philadelphia: Chelsea House Publishing, 1998. (Updated 2007.) Bloom's Literary Reference Online. Facts On File, Inc. http://www.fofweb.com/activelink2.asp?ItemID=WE54&SID=5&iPin= BMSSEP39&SingleRecord=True (accessed November 4, 2012).

Poe, Edgar A. "The Pit and the Pedullum." Glencoe Literature. Ed. Jeffery D. Wilhelm. Columbus: McGraw-Hill, 2009. 263-73. Print.