THANKS, EVERYONE, FOR A GREAT QUARTER!

You've done some wonderful writing, thinking, and interacting.
Have a great break!

Neruda's Questions

Pablo Neruda(1904-1973), a wonderful poet from Chile, wrote a book called The Book of Questions in which he asked many strange and perplexing, often unanswerable questions. Read them, and then either respond with what you think of these questions or leave your own imponderable question:


Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress?
Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?
Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile?
Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

Why don't the immense airplanes fly around with their children?
Which yellow bird fills its nest with lemons?
Why don't they train helicoptors to suck honey from the sunlight?
Where did the full moon leave its sack of flour tonight?

If I have died and don't know it of whom do I ask the time?

THE ECONOMY AND YOUR VALUES

I recently had a conversation with a friend who argued that the current economic trouble in the country and around the world might lead people to re-evaluate their values, re-assess what is most important in life, and realize that they had been leading lives too determined by material goods. As I drove around town and saw the third and then the fourth drive through coffee kiosk closed, out of business, bankrupt, I realized, people are not buying that coffee as much because it's the first and easiest item on our personal economic agenda that is obviously defined as a luxury. I thought, that guy who now cannot afford a $4 latte is not saying, "wow, now I really value what I have." Instead, he is saying, "wow, I am suffering because I now cannot afford that coffee." What rubbish! In fact, I think the current economic crisis will only accentuate our materialism, making us miss what we have now defined as "needs" but what, in reality, are not needs at all. We may be beyond help...how many people do you know who define themselves as "poor" but who also have cable tv and cell phones? The current economic trouble will not lead us to re-evaluate our values because we are hopelessly devoted to a world that can be bought rather than one that has internal significance.
What do you think?

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO MOVE?

One of our very own is moving after this quarter to a new country. Look at the roo to the left and then guess where she might be headed...no, not to a zoo. It's to Australia, mate!

Here's what I want you to think about. What does it mean to move to a new country? Have you ever made that move? What sorts of issues were there for you? If you have not, what do you imagine would make it difficult? What would excite you about the prospect? You might miss people if you moved, but what else of your original country would you miss? Let's use this blog space to brainstorm so that our future expatriate can prepare her mind for the journey.

Academic Writing

How is writing in a typical "academic" setting different from the many other writing settings we've written in this quarter?

RANDOM AUTOBIOGRAPHY FOR MONDAY/WEDNESDAY FOLKS

We're going to do a class random autobiography, so add your great random thoughts from your in-class writing here or come up with new ones. Then, after it's full of random genius, I'll put it all together and we'll see what we have. I'll start...

Dad once scolded me for buying a dolphin.

I have been lost in Sears.

MORE RANDOM AUTOBIOGRAPHY--Tuesday/Thursday People

Now that we've done that Random Autobiography in class, let's make one that will become a collective random bunch of autobiographies. You can use ones you thought of in class, or you can add new random thoughts. Don't explain any of your statements, just insert the randomness and then eventually I'll print it all out and bring it to class. I'll start...

I burned down the garage and blamed it on the wiring.

A wild boar once chased me through a Carolina forest.

HOW TO MAKE CAL STATE BETTER

So, most of you have now been here for six weeks. What would you do to make this university better?

Restaurant Review

Do you have questions, problems, or any other issueswith this assignment? Ask your questions here.

Is this quote true?

"You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture.
Just get people to stop reading them."
~Ray Bradbury

SHOULD YOU KILL YOUR TELEVISION?

Do you think that television has a positive or negative impact on our lives?

AID TO AFRICA?

Ok, this comes out of a discussion with my brother, but I guess it's still worth putting in our venerable space. So, I believe in helping others, giving to charity, helping the needy. Our nation, in fact, does more of this than any nation on earth. We give 15 billion dollars a year (that's a lot of "honey") to Africa. Here's the problem. Almost none of it gets to the people. Most of it simply lines the pockets of the wealthy leaders and warlords. Here's the question: should we still be giving this aid to Africa?

ASSIGNMENT #2 MULTI-GENRE WRITING

ASSIGNMENT #2 MULTI-GENRE WRITING
The first draft of the second assignment must be completed by 10/13 or 10/14.
The final draft is due on 10/15 or 10/16.
If you need help figuring out which dates apply to you, please get help immediately!
The assignment must be typed, unless one of the genres you include requires otherwise. We will generate a list of genres together, but remember, it is almost impossible to state them all, so if you find yourself dreaming of a new genre (are dreams in themselves a genre?) be sure to run it by me and then use it!
The difficult part of this assignment will not be finding the genres, it will be finding the theme. I will give you a few options, but remember, the best theme for you will be the one you come up with, so keep thinking!
If you get information about a certain topic, be sure to include the source of that information in your rough draft and final draft.
We will submit this to turnitin, but we'll discuss that later.

Here are some possibilities for themes: this election, your major, gay marriage, marriage in general, religion, the color blue, skunks, death, love, hope, the beach, the Beach Boys, Boy Bands, Band Aids, AIDS, fishing, goodbyes, good buys, Best Buy...and so on.

Here's a brief list of genres:
Acceptance speech, address to jury, adventure story, advice column, apology note, autobiography, biography, blog entry, business letter, book review, campaign speech, children's story, condolence letter, court decision, dedication, detective story, editorial, epitaph, free verse poem, ghost story, love letter, memoir, movie review, myth, news article, parody, narrative, play, poem, proverb, quotation, romance story, soap opera, sportscast, superstition, technical writing, novel, nursery rhyme, obituary...and on and on.

HERE ARE A COUPLE OF QUICK EXAMPLES:
Example #1
"Snakes"
Genre One: a Joke: (you heard this in class: dumb joke, two animals)

Genre Two: A poem:Title: "head of the department"

The snake rounded her hideous head, careful to hide her fangs until the final moment, licked kindly the ears of her prey, prayed gently for a bit of fight left in this pathetic squirrel, and enjoyed her dinner, although her dinner didn't fight at all.


Genre Three: A Scientific Report:
This one would have to be researched a bit, to gain some insight into the scientific nature of the snake.


Example #2
Metamorphosis

Genre One: Poem: Title: "become the butterfly"
Oh how I long to stop this slithering mess, to eat your leaves and feel no more this earth's caress

Oh how I strive to dine and then slumber away, to drink the sorrow of a cacoon ablaze

Oh how this poem is more stupid than not, but I awaken and fly away, and am amazed, metamorphosis wrought

Genre Two: Rambling Journal Entry:
I wonder what Kafka was thinking when he wrote his book called Metamorphosis. In this simple book a man named Gregor Samsa must come to terms with being turned into a bug, a beetle of sorts. I think this would have been an even worse fate than the social invisibility suffered by Mersault. Kafka revels in the horrors of modern existence, and the awful torturous fate of a man taunted by his own existence. I think that Nabakov would later compare this to Jekyll and Hyde, but something is lost there, since there's only one essence left when the man is turned into bug...scary story. Could this have a bearing on our modern world? You better believe it, bug readers!

Genre Three: Obituary
It is with great regret that we announce the death of metamorphosis, a concept that gave its all until the very end but died after a long bout with complacency. Meta, as she was known to her friends, could be seen in the writing and thinking of numerous individuals over the years, from Bob Dylan to Abe Lincoln, but as of 2008, she met her match with the current society led by those formidable opponents Malaise and Apathy. Meta leaves behind no immediate family members. Services will be held at the Beale Library followed by a ceremonial book burning of all Kafka reading material. In lieu of flowers, please send donations to the SPCA, the only organization left that seems to want to affect change amongst the higher creatures of our globe.

BEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME

Ok, now let's talk movies. What I want to know here is your vote for your top three best movies of all time. Remember, even if you love a movie, try to think about it more objectively. Let's say, for example, that Date Movie is your favorite movie of all time. Most would agree that Date Movie should not be on an all time best list. You can do one of two things. Either admit that even though you like it, it cannot rank with the best movies you've ever seen, or, be bold, make an argument for why it is among the best. That would mean looking at the structure, writing, comedy, timing, filming, capturing of current social themes, or any other categories you want to find to argue why it should be considered. Believe me, if you want to make an argument, you can find reasons to support it (and then we may find reasons why you are wrong, too.).
So, here my list, in no partcular order: Apocalypse Now, Godfather (1 and 2, but that just counts as one, right, since I can't pick between them...and no, don't even think of throwing 3 in there), and Chinatown.
This is really tough though, because I love the following movies and want to put them on the list: Rocky, Valley Girl(go see this now!), Star Wars (I saw it nine times the year it came out...do people still do that?), Amelie (Audrey Toutou, hubba hubba), Fitzcarraldo, the Official Story, A Very Long Engagement, and Belle Epoque.
But the truth is, as much as I enjoyed them, they don't quite make it! Can we separate our enjoyment from our judgement? We must.
What are your nominees and, more importantly, why?

WHAT IS THE GREATEST SPORT?

Is it basketball, surfing, soccer, or baseball? Football, maybe? Or is it something else? You tell me: which sport is, by your standards, the best?

THIS PAINTING REMINDS ME OF...

On the right is the Goya painting. I won't tell you the title since that might prejudice your remarks. No, it's not called "Dr. Schmoll grades his students harshly."

...and the painting is titled, "Saturn Devours his Son."

Can you think of alternate titles?

FOR WHOM WILL THE BELLS TOLL IN NOVEMBER?

Okay, you do not have to say which candidate you'll support, since that would be too personal, right? Maybe not. Like everything on this blog, it's up to you what you say here, but you should have some space to talk politics if you'd like. So who do you favor, the man on the left or the man onthe right?

ECONOMIC PROBLEMS?

What do you make of all this economic trouble? Banks melting down, stocks falling like rocks in pond. Does it worry you? Do you think it'll impact your job choices when you graduate in four years?

Do pets play?

Ok, so this is a silly one, but I have a friend who teaches at another college who says that cats don't play. What he means is that when we pull a string for them or something like that, cats don't know they are playing..for them it's practice for the wild. Play is something that we have ascribed to their actions. We think, oh how cute, little Mittens is playing. But it could be our own assigning of human characteristics to the little beasties. What do you think? Do our pets really play?

Baby Carriage in Chechnya

Isn't this picture odd? Does it seem sad to you? Desperate? Why would a woman be pushing a baby carriage full of loaves of bread?

ENGLISH 100 SECTION 2

Greetings, you brilliant writers! This is obviously a great section, even if it is bursting with students. That's a good thing though, right? From what I see so far, there are some magnetic, rambunctious, crazy, lovely, elegant, and ambiguous folks in this class.
Post any questions of thoughts about the class here.

IDEAL EDUCATION

If you could design your education in exactly the way you want, how would you do that? Would you continue our idea of Gen Ed, of a bunch of general classes that make you a well-rounded person? Does it work? Or would you begin your college career in your major, taking only those courses that will help to make you an expert in the field of your choice?
I've thought about redesigning an elementary school so that the kindergarten teacher travels with the students to first, then second, and so on, all the way through 8th grade. I guess the only problem is if your kindergarten teacher stinks then your whole education is going to be ruined, right? But we would put controls in for that. If the teacher stinks, FIRE THE TEACHER. Hmm, novel idea, right? How would you redesign your education?

ENGLISH 100 SECTION 10

This part of the blog will allow you to expound on the reasons that this section is so great. Judging by what you guys wrote today about that group of men working in 1932 on the beam above New York City, you are some pretty fabulous writers. Furthermore, your grasp of the naming exercise was excellent--from that exercise I gather that this course has vegetarians shortcakes, brilliance, magnificence, naughtiness, and other wonderfully original characterstics.
WELCOME TO ENGLISH 100!

TRAVEL--add your travel stories here!

SPAIN...

DISCLAIMER: we can debate the ethics of bullfighting later. For now, just read.

Cantalapiedra is in the middle of Castilia, 25 miles outside of Salamanca. It's farming country. The wife's family still runs a farm there. The town has 1500 residents but countless stories. They also love the language, culture, and sport of bullfighting.
Hemingway once wrote that "Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bull-fighters."
Tito, a gruff 55 year old man from town who is well known for raising the best bulls in the region, offered to show us some bulls that he was preparing for a group of men having a bachelor party. About 10km outside of town, in what’s called a monte, a groups of pine trees on an elevated hill area surrounded by flat Castilian farmland, Tito has some land where he brings a portion of his bulls. The whole scene was pretty run down and dirty, a small bull ring, surrounded on one side by a large raised concrete slab. Underneath the big slab is a room full of old farm equipment, some couches, wooden chairs, and a table that Tito had set up for a party. The ring had various areas of entry and exit—off of one side was a large pen with a big macho bull and a bunch of his women and 1-3 year old children; off another side was a bigger wild area with 4 year old bulls, much too large to take part in the day’s festivities. On another corner of the ring was a group a 5 pens, about 8 feet square each one, and sort of set up like a maze of doors and small rooms. When we arrived, my niece Henar stepped out of the car and immediately started a low level whine. More like a squeak. She has a serious phobia of bulls, so after ten minutes my brother in law Jesus decided to take her home. 11 year old Maddy opted to go also—bad decision, we’d later find out. So, 13 year old Eden and I stayed. Tito moved a big group including the bull and about thirty vaquilla (the 1-2 year olds, “va key ya”) from their pen into the big ring and then through the different doors to push them toward the group of pens to hold them until the bachelor party dudes arrived. This involved separating three to eight vaquillas and then rushing them through various doors which could be closed only by standing atop a brick wall (about 8 inches thick)and pushing a big metal handle that opened or closed a metal door. Rather than just watching, Eden and I jumped in to help, climbing from old concrete slab to old concrete slab to get to the area above the pens. Tito was in the ring yelling at the animals. He got mad at the big bull once and, loose translation, said “you ass hole, you are only good for having sex and eating, you worthless shit. You should crawl back to the bitch that made you.” This was one of those brief moments when I was happy that Eden ’s Spanish was not more advanced. Tito's daughter Ana, about 40 years old, hardened from years of working with bulls and misogynist men and also with a mouth so full of vile language (like father like daughter)that I wonder how she could eat with it, was working in the area between the ring and the other sections…a ring around the bull ring. Ana would tell me which door to close and then would yell for that to happen. She also gave me an eight foot long pole with a metal pointy tip on one end to gently encourage the bulls to move from pen to pen. The coolest thing about this was when the big bull was in the pens. Tito brought him into the big ring because many of the vaqillas won't budge without him So now we had to get him out. He was not for fighting, so we just moved him through, into a pen that led to a short tunnel that led back to his open area. The cool thing was that, since on all fours he still stands about 6 feet tall, the walls on which we stood were only a few feet above his head, so you could really look closely at him, and I could talk a whole lot of smack from a safe position. "You're not so tough," I told him...in English, just in case things when wrong.
After the big daddy bull was through, we had to move two smaller vaquillas out of the maze. They would not move from a corner. I carefully walked to that corner, a brick and reebar ledge, and banged on the metal beside the beasts…nothing. I prodded one hard in the rump and yelled, "go, toro, ale, malo, vete." Nothing. Ana climbed the wall, said to me “a la puerta,” meaning to the door, but really meaning you’re fired weak man, and she walked to a side near the animals, simply yelled, “vaca,” and away they flew through the door and into another pen.
With the right vaqillas in the right pens, Tito then went to start cooking. A small bus arrived with the twenty or so men from the bachelor party. The food was all barbequed, thick pancetta, succulent hunks of chorizo, and a lean pork tenderloin. As Tito would bring a large plate for the party he would walk by us and put a few slices on a plate. At one point, Tito came to ask if I had tried his wine. My affluent "notario" brother in law Jesus, ever willing to display his wealth and generosity, had brought two bottles of perfectly aged Rioja with labels that said his name on them: de la Bodega de Jesus Cuadrado Sexmero. This was very good wine. But this was not Tito's wine. The label on Tito’s two liter plastic bottle of wine had long worn off and originally read “diet coke.” Tito's wine--(they told me where they make it but one side effect of drinking it is that you forget where they make it)--Tito's wine was every bit as good as the rioja. After a couple more rounds of food Tito put his arm around my neck and dragged me to a corner with a large plastic tub full of sangria. Tito makes his sangria with potent, thick cognac, so it’s about 60 to 80 proof. Que viva Espana! Jesus said that Tito was impressed that Eden and I had helped, which is why he was so generous and friendly. Tito told Jesus that he expected us to act like prissy tourists. We appreciated the welcome since Tito is one of the meanest men in Cantalapiedra, and in that town that is some auspicious reputation!
Then the fun began. The bachelors, with one of them dressed in a bright pink bullfighter costume, were from Asturias, not a bull fighting region, which means that they do not have that healthy fear of bulls like the Castilians do. After drinking on the bus and with the meal, they were now drunk. Three brave idiots came into the ring with the first vaquilla, a scared little one year old. She would not fight at all. When one of the guys showed the bull the heavy red cape, it would turn away and only get scared. They chased, the bull ran, and that was it. About five more guys decided now that bulls were sissies and headed into the ring. The second vaquilla was no sissy. He would square up against each guy, focus his whole body toward the guy, and then charge. The level of laughter from Tito and his daughter is hard to describe. These guys finally gained a bit of healthy respect for the noble bull. The respect was about to turn to fear. Tito slapped me on the back, put his hand on my shoulder, pointed to one guy in the ring, and said, “he’s going down right now.” Almost at that moment, the little bull caught sight of the guy Tito had pointed to, headed straight for his chest and wham, he was head over heels, then on the ground, and then limping to the side. Tito was laughing like crazy. They brought in a third vaquilla, a husky one year old named Palomita. She sent one guy to the ground with a massive abrasion on his back, and then knocked another guy right in the chest. He stammered off and promptly passed out. While his friends revived him with water and shade—it was pretty hot and dusty that day—I took my turn in the ring, stepping between one of the little walled entrances into the ring and moving about twenty feet toward the center of the ring. It’s amazing how you can get the attention of the animal with the cape. I stood near the side and held the cape behind me—the cape is thick and heavy, almost like a curtain. When I would show the red side, the bull would stop and stare. Palomita was probably about 15 feet away now, and even at that distance it was daunting to have her look you in the eyes. I tried to kind of mimic what the bull was doing. She would drop her head and lift it quickly, so I did. She huffed, so I did. She turned her head and looked out of only one eye, so did I.
Hemingway spoke of this sharing of space when he wrote, "In bull-fighting they speak of the terrain of the bull and the terrain of the bull-fighter. As long as a bull-fighter stays in his own terrain he is comparatively safe. Each time he enters into the terrain of the bull he is in great danger."
Palomita had not read Hemingway. And she was sick of this game with me so she lowered her head and charged. You’ve seen a traditional pass, with the torero drawing the bull around his body with the cape, right? It's elegant and graceful.With the bull now running headlong toward me, thats exactly what I planned to do.
But I didn’t do that. I ran away and jumped up on the wall like any real man would. But still, it was a cool two minutes of beast to beast face time. Oh yeah, and two of the guys ended up having to be taken to the emergency room with broken ribs..ole!