Heretofore drivel; thenceforth pathos

Upon careful examination and endless rumination of my previous writings, I hereby deem the aforementioned "writing" complete rubbish.   For, ideally, higher quality writing and stories of substance, of highs and lows, of heartbreak and love, and for the continual juxtaposition of tragedy and comedy, please refer to the new blog, Into the Stream or the currently in-development Web series, Winston.  

Thesis Proposal

Thesis Proposal for Essay Four: Persuasive Research Paper

I. General Research Topic: A satirical commentary on the climate crisis.

II. Thesis Statement and/or Proposal: The frontal lobotomy, an truly underrated procedure, is very well the answer to silencing the outrageous claims by scientists and politician that there exists truth in urban legend of "global warming".

III. What reasons and evidence support your position on this issue? No one has proved it. The Earth is just changing - who can say that it wasn't like this two thousand years ago?

IV. Imagine all the counter arguments your audience might make. Summarize the main arguments against your position. What are the flaws in the alternative points of view?

What about scientific research? What about tracking and correlating CO2 emissions to rising temperatures?

Law Times Ethics, Over the Sum of Common Good

All men are supposedly created equally, but what about other living organisms? Plants and animals of all shapes and sizes? Do they rank at the same level of human importance? Are the stimuli that are effected by human intervention in said plants and animals worth a cost? And for that matter, what is the cost, the object in peril, that equivocates human life? Have we, or at least a small percentage of the U.S. population reached so far into our souls for a steadfast compassion that they have lost sight of the common good?

During today's discussion it became very apparent that the issue of animal rights posed quite the challenge for our class. Deeply rooted in this matter is the subject of decency. It is my belief that with a constant consideration for the whole, a broad view of status, and the observation of actions and reactions, "the line" as we discussed, can be found.

In regards to my personal beliefs on the issue, I will state outright that I am neither for or against issues such as animal testing, and as a carnivore, I am unwilling to contest my case, except only on the bounds of the meat industry in today's business world.

The Laramie Project

The Laramie Project. This play by Moises Kaufman and the members of the Tectonic Theatre Project is based on the brutal beating of Matthew Shepard, a gay college student, that took place October 1998. The crime was motivated by hate. HATE.

I had the absolute privilege to be both part of the acting ensemble as well as the scenic designer in this recent U. Theatre production. I find it difficult to talk about this experience, sitting back trying to fill in the blanks in my mind about what the show meant to me, the magnitude of its ideas and meanings on my life and the knowledge that undoubtedly, we made people think. They might not necessarily think differently about the issues, but we made them think about them. We presented a story of hate, injustice, intolerance, but above all, hope. HOPE. We made them think about that. Hope, that the world might change some day, hope that the world is indeed changing for the better.

I would love to chat about how much I care for each and every member of the ensemble, but that's not why I'm here typing. Well, as a matter of fact, why the hell not? These people, some of whom I was already good friends with, have become family. When you spend any where from 2-4 hours a day with the same group of people for about a month and a half they begin to grow on you, and you on them. They become part of your lives, and I've previously mentioned in my essay, A Kind of Magic, this type of experience, this bonding, love and friendship, is all part of the magic of theatre. And in regards to that essay, I still asked Mr. Kelly if he would join me before every performance. And he was there. And he loved it.

Elliott Graber's Message

Throughout my childhood and as a matter of fact, my entire life to this very day, I have always been reminded to be ever-conscientious of other’s feelings as to never insult anyone for something that they cannot personally help or change. Having lived in different areas where significant populations of minorities were actually quite prominent, I had experience from a young age in being, what I was to later learn, politically correct. This term of ‘politically correct’ was something that due to it being instilled in me throughout my upbringing was, and still is, a rather intrinsic value to my personality and way of thinking. Not to judge by the color of someone’s skin, or to mock others for physical or mental defects went beyond the measures of kind tact, but to the power of words since I first started to speak.

“They’re called African Americans, Randy” Ms. Nelson told me in the third grade. This was in response to me mispronouncing the word, African, and with all the spite and piss and vinegar that woman ran on, oh yeah, I’m really sure it mattered to her. It was always so puzzling to me as a child that so many people had different title. There were Asian Americans, African Americans and Native Americans that I can remember going to school with. My first thoughts, even at a young age were wondering why some of my friends were put in special categories when they were just like me. We went to the same school, drank the same water, breathed the same air and yet because of the color of their skin and because their ancestors came from a different place than mine, they automatically had to be separated from me. Not physically, mind you but there was a line drawn, even at a young age that placed a buffer between the kids in my classrooms. All the while being taught there was no difference, the power of words drove a spade between us. In an attempt to unify and respect, a game of “us and them” was created.

The blunt misuse of language and the clear prejudices that exist in today’s society will at times enrage me as they do for many. I have seen a variety of people from different walks of life speak in many ways that are not “politically correct”, but where do I draw the line? Where do we as a society draw the line? I realize that I tend to focus on the issue of race because that is the most prominent issue in regards to political correctness from my viewpoint. However, it is necessary to examine the roots of these deep-seated feelings. What really drives us as a society to be so damn stupid at times as to think that we can make a permanent boundary between right and wrong? I mean, I’ve seen some real humdingers in my seemingly short life thus far, but let’s all take a breath and calm the fuck down for a moment before I start my rant. That’s right, calm it down, you’re flying off the goddamn handle. And you’re a racist. And you’re a bigot. You are the majority of Americans. Oh wait, are you? Am I for that matter?

The fact that our very thoughts exist and persist through time even with the conditioning of open-minded considerations in public situations, remain the trigger of our fear. When we have studied or experienced something in anyway, there is a comfort that is sought. That comfort allows as individuals to them further judgments based off of previous experiences. But what if our thoughts mislead us into thoughts of prejudice because the only things we know are stereotypes? Is this the source of our fear of others that are different? What we don’t know scares us. As a safeguard to prevent feelings of uneasiness, we place an invisible fence around topics of great sensitivity. Instead of digging into the issue and learning more, we place more and more boundaries in our way for our “own good”. These boundaries are constantly being built to shut out interaction that lends to understanding, and why? Again, because we fear what we don’t know. The fact is that all of us possess these intrinsic prejudice dispositions, but how we act and communicate defines our personality and our effect on our surrounding environment and our little chunk of the world.

My early social interactions, as I previously mentioned, involved many people, mostly classmates and such that were of a different race. There’s a certain fragile innocence to a child’s mind that must be nurtured and taught well at that young and accepting stage to ensure that the personality of that child will grow into one that manifests respect for their respect for others. To be boastful of my parents is an understatement. I do not have one memory that was not in support of open-mindedness and respect for others. Treat others the way you want to be treated. The Golden Fucking Rule. Decent, but not that great. This respect boils down to words and actions. How do we as a society communicate with one another? Through the use of the English language. This powerful instrument has been around and has evolved in its use and continues to do so to this day. The immense power that is exhibited by the relatively small portion of words in our language, or in one’s vocabulary, can convey more than a thousand words and the close-minded feelings of many more. These words of hate, prejudice, injustice, intolerance, and bigotry plague, I mean absolutely plague our society. So is that why we use the term ‘politically correct’ to stamp out, a more less blanket effect over any word or term that might have a slight, tiny, incy wincy chance of offending anyone of any sort of minority or race or gender? Is that why there is so much strife amongst our classes?

Now, are we to define and restrict this term that is supposed to protect others from scrutiny to just race? How about gender? How about handicap? Don’t we need some common thread to say, “Hey, since these words hurt others, just use a different word to replace that one to make others magically think that you’re really not thinking the bad word in the first place” Shouldn’t that be common sense or perhaps even human decency rather than ‘political correctness’? That, my friend, is a fuck. We use words to communicate. If a word offends someone, don’t use it. Go to the root of things, search for the common sense, the decency, the tact to place yourself in the shoes of others everyday with every word and every action. Don’t even think the goddamn word because when you do, oh whoa, you’re now just as bad as the other guy. You’re now the prick standing in the grocery check out aisle going, “Hey, what the fuck is this, you call these bagels you little Jew, this is bullshit! Well, fuck you, asshole!” And then people are watching this thinking, “Well, SOMEONE forgot their meds today.”

So what good is a word that only replaces one that is intended to hurt? If there exists anything in my soul that I absolutely hate, it is the string of terrible terms of racism, prejudice and bigotry. Why the hell don’t we just get rid of those words? Then we find the common argument that ‘If blacks can call themselves niggers, if gays can call themselves fags, then why can’t I?’ I’m a straight man with Scandinavian roots, so boy oh boy, I’m really fucked out of that deal! I can’t call myself anything but whitey. Well, shit. So what do I say that can be culturally acceptable to my friends? “Say there my fair skinned friend, how’s about you and me go out back and drink us some koskov, mo-fucka?” No, I can’t say shit like that. I am by all means the mass-consumer-white-man. Go ahead and mock me and my ‘group’ for that and see if that makes you feel more comfortable about your place in the world, relating to everyone else. But that insult is limited to mild banter over vernacular. Enough of that bullshit. Seriously, there exists an undefined line of what is and what is not politically correct. The deeper root problem that I’m getting at is the location of the eminent ‘line’. Where and when do we cross it? I don’t have a goddamn clue. I like to think that I have a great sense of tact and respect for others, but well, actually, I think I do now know where the line is. It is undefined by normal standards. There is no billboard on the side of the interstate saying, “You are about to cross the line of tact, and the almighty politically correct”. Nope. Nada. You my friend, if you have not experienced either a life of respectful treatment of others, or are not from a diverse background, or perhaps even both, are fucked. Best of luck.

Strongly-Spoken Satirist

Swift's essay, "A Modest Proposal", was a strong statement of the social injustices of the destitute Irish Catholics of the time and the treatment of them by English high brows. I happen to love satire and I was also familiar with this piece from a brief reading we did, I think, in high school. I could be mistaken. The point being, I was familiar with it and I appreciated the voice he gives his essay even more now that I've read many other works since then and have learned a great deal about society and its classes, injustices and the system as a whole. When reading this, I can really hear his voice speaking. It's not just words on a page, it's a man telling the people of his time, and now, us, to wake up and to realize how we treat people less fortunate than the majority. With our audience today, I think this essay is easily applicable to our standards. Let's look at the way we treat our poor sometimes. Pretty rotten. That's not to say that there isn't a good amount of people and organizations out there to improve the lives of many, it's just that is the relatively small percentage of the population that scoffs the lower-class. But every once in a while there is hope and that hope may manifest in a variety of forms. With today's changing social norms and crises of all sorts we have voices of reason and warning, and in the case of Kurt Vonnegut, one of my favorite satirists, strong views conveyed by biting satire. In this case, it manifested in Swift. Too bad they were all too stubborn to listen to him. He was rather clever.

Divorce, bankruptcy, suicide? You're fuckin' losers!

Little Miss Sunshine, a story of a little girl drawing a family back together and rediscovering what truly matters in life, is a film that easily could have easily taken a wicked turn for the worse, but instead presents one of the best films of 2006. It also presents a story that is applicable to most any theme you can possibly imagine.

So many themes are explored in this brilliantly simple film – intolerance, drug abuse, compassion, love, life, and death to name a few. The film takes us aboard the yellow VW bus across the southwest and into the character’s lives with their direct interactions, but also with the family’s experience as a whole.

Let’s take a moment and explore the characters. We have a man whose own self-inflated ego has taken driven his family into bankruptcy, a mom who is divorced, a heroin-addict grandfather, an anti-social son, and a suicidal homosexual uncle. And in the middle of those flaws is the beautiful Olive, played by the talented Abigail Breslin.

From the first few frames, we witness a man struggling to give an intended motivational speech, a young man striving to become physically fit, an old man doing drugs, a sister picking up her brother from the hospital, and a little girl idolizing beauty pageants. Talk about malcontent. And the only thing to save this family from the depths of their own sorrow, the Little Miss Sunshine contest on the coast.