In the video, two people got on the elevator at the same time. The girl retrieved her phone and started to play some rap music out loud. The older man obviously saw this as rude and began to play classical music on his own phone. Then another woman got on the elevator and began playing music of her own. This escalated as more and more people got on the elevator and played there own music out loud. Then a man with a boom box on his shoulder got onto the elevator. He looked at each one of them and one by one, they began to turn off their music. He then proceeded to put a cassette tape into the boom box. Everyone was waiting for the music to play aloud, but in the end he put his ear buds in.
The author's purpose for writing and directing this video was to make a point about courtesy of others and how behaviors can catch on. The first girl started playing her music aloud, which in many situations is considered rude, and that behavior continued to catch on as more people entered the elevator. The audience for this video would be the general public. This isn't something that applies to a certain group of people, being courteous to others is something that applies to the entire population of the world. Playing music out loud when it is easy enough to wear headphones, is something that bothers even me. A person shouldn't have to be walking down the street, or getting into the elevator and hear your music, especially if it is vulgar or offensive. The use of headphones is courteous, use them.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Monday, February 16, 2015
The Music That Makes Me
Throughout middle school I listened to Pop music mostly, it was the cool thing to listen to then. But then I hit High School, and that's when I started listening to Alternative and Rock heavily. I think my favorite band of all time would probably be Coldplay or Fall Out Boy, I'm too picky to decide.
"She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 is very significant to me. As a child, my dad's favorite album to listen to in the car was "Songs About Jane". I knew every song on that album and Maroon 5 is still close to my heart today. They're one of my favorite bands, but I like "She Will Be Loved" the best because it was the first one I memorized and I would walk around the house singing it all the time.
"Our Song" by Taylor Swift was another song I really liked when I was younger. Me and my best friend sang it to our moms one day just because we could. I still associate that song with a really good childhood memory.
"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse was another song I loved. I was on an Amy Winehouse kick for a really long time and listened to her album "Back to Black" about a million times over, but especially that particular song. I still find myself singing it in the shower sometimes.
"Chelsea Dagger" by the Fratellis is another song I really like. Every time before a band competition in High School I would listen to this song. It always got me really pumped and made me excited for performing.
"Clocks" by Coldplay is a classic that pretty much everyone has heard of. I enjoy this song because it's classic Coldplay and they're one of my favorite bands, it is a very calming song to me, and it was the first song I learned to play on the piano.
"21 Guns" by Green Day is another song that means something to me. It kind of described how I felt in a weird way when I was fighting with my two best friends at the end of my eighth grade year. We actually ended up going our separate ways anyway.
"Wonderwall" by Oasis was a song I really liked my Sophomore year of High School. I was utterly convinced I was in love with one of my really good friends. At the time, it described how I felt about him and gave me hope for the relationship in a weird way.
"I Will Be There" by Odessa was a song that meant a lot to me. I lost my grandpa my Freshman year of High School and he was really important to me. This song helped me get through a bit and made me feel better about the situations. Instead of a tissue, this song dried my tears.
"That's What You Get" by Paramore holds good and bad memories for me. It started off bad because it was my anthem after I had my heart crushed by a boy. But it eventually turned into something good when my best friend and I began playing rock band religiously. That song was our favorite to sing and play in the game. We had the highest score on that song, and when it comes on in the car I automatically blare it and sing along.
"Brick by Boring Brick" by Paramore helped me grow up in a weird way. I dug the meaning out of this one, the analytical part of my brain at work. To me, it means growing up and putting away the fairytales and childish things, to grow up and move on with your life. But it also has a really good beat.
I know most of these songs aren't all alternative or rock, but they mean something to me from the past as well as the present. If I could pick songs I like that have no meaning, there would be a lot more Nirvana, 3 Doors Down, other Paramore songs, and even My Chemical Romance.
"She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 is very significant to me. As a child, my dad's favorite album to listen to in the car was "Songs About Jane". I knew every song on that album and Maroon 5 is still close to my heart today. They're one of my favorite bands, but I like "She Will Be Loved" the best because it was the first one I memorized and I would walk around the house singing it all the time.
"Our Song" by Taylor Swift was another song I really liked when I was younger. Me and my best friend sang it to our moms one day just because we could. I still associate that song with a really good childhood memory.
"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse was another song I loved. I was on an Amy Winehouse kick for a really long time and listened to her album "Back to Black" about a million times over, but especially that particular song. I still find myself singing it in the shower sometimes.
"Chelsea Dagger" by the Fratellis is another song I really like. Every time before a band competition in High School I would listen to this song. It always got me really pumped and made me excited for performing.
"Clocks" by Coldplay is a classic that pretty much everyone has heard of. I enjoy this song because it's classic Coldplay and they're one of my favorite bands, it is a very calming song to me, and it was the first song I learned to play on the piano.
"21 Guns" by Green Day is another song that means something to me. It kind of described how I felt in a weird way when I was fighting with my two best friends at the end of my eighth grade year. We actually ended up going our separate ways anyway.
"Wonderwall" by Oasis was a song I really liked my Sophomore year of High School. I was utterly convinced I was in love with one of my really good friends. At the time, it described how I felt about him and gave me hope for the relationship in a weird way.
"I Will Be There" by Odessa was a song that meant a lot to me. I lost my grandpa my Freshman year of High School and he was really important to me. This song helped me get through a bit and made me feel better about the situations. Instead of a tissue, this song dried my tears.
"That's What You Get" by Paramore holds good and bad memories for me. It started off bad because it was my anthem after I had my heart crushed by a boy. But it eventually turned into something good when my best friend and I began playing rock band religiously. That song was our favorite to sing and play in the game. We had the highest score on that song, and when it comes on in the car I automatically blare it and sing along.
"Brick by Boring Brick" by Paramore helped me grow up in a weird way. I dug the meaning out of this one, the analytical part of my brain at work. To me, it means growing up and putting away the fairytales and childish things, to grow up and move on with your life. But it also has a really good beat.
I know most of these songs aren't all alternative or rock, but they mean something to me from the past as well as the present. If I could pick songs I like that have no meaning, there would be a lot more Nirvana, 3 Doors Down, other Paramore songs, and even My Chemical Romance.
From High School to College
Dear High School Student,
In High School, everything is very routine and regulated. Basically, the rules do not change from class to class. Well, forget what you think you know. It all changes in College. Teachers in High School give you a general idea of what they expect and give you leeway. However, in College, each professor has their own specific set of rules and ways of doing things. I've recently discovered this in my Into the Psychology class. In College it is expected that you figure out what it is each of your professor want from you in each assignment. You will also see that every class is not the same, professor are allowed to choose how they want to run their classes. Some professors will go by a power point and let you write down your notes, some will simply do old fashioned seminar style, and then there are the creative professors. These "creative" professors force you to think and apply the text to real world issues. Especially in your first year, College becomes a "free thinking" and "free learning" environment.
From my own experience, I have noticed that some professors do not assign homework very often. They expect you to be adults and read the texts they assign and learn the information on your own. This especially is not like High School at all. In High School you could get away with not doing any homework or reading and pass with a solid B. This is because you'll end up learning the material from your teacher the next day in class. But in College, your professors want you to tell them what you learned, what you got out of it, voice your opinions and questions. College forces you to become your own advocate for your education, no one is going to hold your hand anymore. Something else I've learned through my own experiences is that time management is essential to your education. In High School you wait until the last minute to get everything. In College that just won't cut it. You can't wing anything and get a passing grade, you have to plan out when you have time to do each assignment and have them done in a timely manner. Without this step it's a very good possibility that you will fall behind or even fail out of College because your method of getting things done isn't effective anymore. I promise that if you listen to these four large changes you will make it through College as a good student.
In High School, everything is very routine and regulated. Basically, the rules do not change from class to class. Well, forget what you think you know. It all changes in College. Teachers in High School give you a general idea of what they expect and give you leeway. However, in College, each professor has their own specific set of rules and ways of doing things. I've recently discovered this in my Into the Psychology class. In College it is expected that you figure out what it is each of your professor want from you in each assignment. You will also see that every class is not the same, professor are allowed to choose how they want to run their classes. Some professors will go by a power point and let you write down your notes, some will simply do old fashioned seminar style, and then there are the creative professors. These "creative" professors force you to think and apply the text to real world issues. Especially in your first year, College becomes a "free thinking" and "free learning" environment.
From my own experience, I have noticed that some professors do not assign homework very often. They expect you to be adults and read the texts they assign and learn the information on your own. This especially is not like High School at all. In High School you could get away with not doing any homework or reading and pass with a solid B. This is because you'll end up learning the material from your teacher the next day in class. But in College, your professors want you to tell them what you learned, what you got out of it, voice your opinions and questions. College forces you to become your own advocate for your education, no one is going to hold your hand anymore. Something else I've learned through my own experiences is that time management is essential to your education. In High School you wait until the last minute to get everything. In College that just won't cut it. You can't wing anything and get a passing grade, you have to plan out when you have time to do each assignment and have them done in a timely manner. Without this step it's a very good possibility that you will fall behind or even fail out of College because your method of getting things done isn't effective anymore. I promise that if you listen to these four large changes you will make it through College as a good student.
Friday, January 23, 2015
Poe in the Light of Day
Poe uses death as a theme in "The Tell-Tale Heart", "The Masque of the Red Death", and "The Black Cat". It is obvious in "The Tell-Tale Heart" when the main character kills the old man. It pops up again in "The Masque of the Red Death" when death come and kills the prince and all of his party guests. Again, it is prevalent in "The Black Cat" when the narrator kills his favorite cat and again, when he murders his wife. The deaths may have had something to do with the fact that all of the people I his life that he loved died from tuberculosis. Because of the death that surrounded him in his life, it became a theme in many of his short stories.
The difference that "The Black Cat and "The Tell-Tale Heart" share however, is that the narrators both suffer from mental illnesses. This could be a metaphor for Poe himself. Poe had a very dark life and a dark way of writing, it was no widely accepted the way it is now during the time he was alive. He was seen as crazy and it was very possible that people thought he was ungodly. The mental illness could have been driven by Poe's own personality. In "The Black Cate", the narrator became a drunk and that's when his illness began to manifest itself. Poe was also a drunk, it was leading into alcoholism, if not fully alcoholic. Poe may have noticed a change in his behavior because of the alcohol and exaggerated it in his stories.
The next thing that Poe emphasized in his stories, were the houses the characters lived in, In "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Black Cat", the houses had little to no description. However, in "The Masque Death" the rooms in which the party took place was very detailed and descriptive. Poe plays off of the saying "home is where the heart is". In the "Tell-Tale Heart" however, Poe made a mockery of the saying by having the dead heart continue to beat underneath the floor boards. And in "The Black Cat", the home started off happy and slowly became something dark and dangerous. This may have been a metaphor for Poe's home, he started off with a happy life and slowly everyone around him died of a disease and left him alone in his house to be depressed.
The main difference in "The Masque of the Red Death" is the theme of fear throughout. The chiming clock and the people stopping was the main source of fear. In my opinion, this came from Poe's fear of death. This particular short story was written around his time of death. I believe he knew that it was close to his time and he was afraid. His fear of the inevitable was manifested in this story of death being inevitable. He didn't want his life to end, but he knew it was coming anyway.
The difference that "The Black Cat and "The Tell-Tale Heart" share however, is that the narrators both suffer from mental illnesses. This could be a metaphor for Poe himself. Poe had a very dark life and a dark way of writing, it was no widely accepted the way it is now during the time he was alive. He was seen as crazy and it was very possible that people thought he was ungodly. The mental illness could have been driven by Poe's own personality. In "The Black Cate", the narrator became a drunk and that's when his illness began to manifest itself. Poe was also a drunk, it was leading into alcoholism, if not fully alcoholic. Poe may have noticed a change in his behavior because of the alcohol and exaggerated it in his stories.
The next thing that Poe emphasized in his stories, were the houses the characters lived in, In "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Black Cat", the houses had little to no description. However, in "The Masque Death" the rooms in which the party took place was very detailed and descriptive. Poe plays off of the saying "home is where the heart is". In the "Tell-Tale Heart" however, Poe made a mockery of the saying by having the dead heart continue to beat underneath the floor boards. And in "The Black Cat", the home started off happy and slowly became something dark and dangerous. This may have been a metaphor for Poe's home, he started off with a happy life and slowly everyone around him died of a disease and left him alone in his house to be depressed.
The main difference in "The Masque of the Red Death" is the theme of fear throughout. The chiming clock and the people stopping was the main source of fear. In my opinion, this came from Poe's fear of death. This particular short story was written around his time of death. I believe he knew that it was close to his time and he was afraid. His fear of the inevitable was manifested in this story of death being inevitable. He didn't want his life to end, but he knew it was coming anyway.
Friday, January 16, 2015
The Day I Woke Up in Jail...
The darkness from my mind began to fade as I gradually awoke, I blinked a few times trying to get the sleep out of my eyes. When I was finally fully awake, I stood up to try and see all of my surroundings. I looked out of the small window and realized the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, "must be early in the morning." "Hi, I'm Lace. What are you in for?" I jumped so high upon hearing that unexpected voice I could have smacked the ceiling. "Jesus lady. You scared me." I said breathless. She then got out of bed and stood next to me and said, "sorry, I have that effect on people sometimes." She just stared at me for a minute and repeated her original question. "I...I...don't know. I'm not sure how I even got here. It feels like I lost time, I don't remember anything from last night." I whispered completely bewildered. I tried to remember, but failed. After I answered, she crawled back into bed, said goodnight, and fell back asleep. "Well that was a weird exchange." I dropped my arms to my sides with a heavy sigh and that's when I noticed the significant bulge in my pocket. "What's all this stuff?"
I reached into my pocket and found five items that confused me. "Why is all of this in my pocket?" As I looked down at the items I held in my hands, the memories began to flood back to me with a pounding headache. In my left hand I held a hunting knife with a golden handle, I recognized this as the same one my father owned. But the part that wasn't normal was the glob of dried blood stuck to the blade of the knife. This was the strongest evidence of what I had done. I knew what the white handkerchief had been used for. It was clean, mostly, apart from some of the blood that had gotten on it from the knife. Then I looked to my right hand and saw a brass knuckle, which I knew had contributed to the harsh bruising and pain in my left hand, my non-dominant hand. Next was a picture of my mother and I from when I was a kid, "we looked so happy." And last was the piece of paper with an address on it...his address. Then it was confirmed, I knew I had finally taken my revenge.
Backtrack seven years to when I was a senior in high school. It was midway through Spring semester, I was about to graduate. It was March 17, 2014, I remember the day very clearly, I was called into the principle's office because he wanted to talk to me. I was scared obviously, I mean I hadn't done anything wrong, right? I couldn't remember doing anything anyways. Well it turns out I hadn't done anything wrong, he just had some new for me. "Ah, Miss Justice. Please, have a seat. I need to talk to you about something very important." His voice held a grave tone, he stopped and looked me dead in the eyes and sighed. "Your father called me about twenty minutes ago, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you have to meet your father at the morgue at Riverside Hospital. Your mother has been killed. "No..." Everything faded out. I couldn't hear anymore of his words, I couldn't think, I couldn't feel, I was just numb. I left the school in shock and drove to the hospital to see my mother's dead body.
When I finally got to the hospital, I saw my father in tears with a very official looking cop standing next to him. When I began to approach the pair, the cop made eye contact and advanced towards me. I stopped and waited for him. I didn't say anything when he stood before me, I just looked, and waited. Turns out my mom was headed to grab some lunch when she turned the corner and saw a man there in the ally. She worked downtown and of course it's always a sketchy place. The man was crazy, he saw fit to attack my mother and mug her. When she fought back, he pulled out a gun and shot her through her stomach. The cops didn't know who had done it. There was no security footage and there were no witnesses to the attack. There were a couple people that they had suspicions of, but in the end their alibis were solid and there was no suspect. The case was close.
Now, back to the present. I'm 24, and I'm a detective now. When I finally made it into the police force after graduation, I reopened my mother's case and did some investigating of my own. I did what the police couldn't, I found her murderer. I had found that the guy's name was Donny Roush, he was divorced with two kids and still lived on the bad side of Columbus. I'm a cop, I know what I did was wrong, but I needed the satisfaction of knowing that he suffered as much as he made my mother suffer. The day before I ended up in this tiny cell with Lace I went to visit my father, like I do every Saturday morning. That's when I picked up the hunting knife with the gold handle. The handkerchief also came from his house, though it was my mother. I needed some way to wipe away the prints. When I grabbed it out of her things I had to stop for a minute, that little handkerchief meant something, it was one of the few things I had left of her. Engrave in the bottom corner were her initials, SDP, in white thread. In that box was also a picture of my mother and I, upon seeing it I pocketed it. I took the items I needed and left my father's house. Earlier in the week, when I had found Donny Roush, I wrote his address down, I carried that with me then too. After leaving my dad's, I went and bought the brass knuckles for my left hand, I needed some protection for that hand too. After I had gotten everything I needed, I took out that small piece of paper in my pocket with the words 2976 Mail Brooke Drive written on it. I stared at it for a minute and set off to bring Mr. Roush to his demise.
Midnight: July 12. I was sitting in my car staring at the small bungalow that held my fate along with Donny Roush's. I waited for an hour to gain the courage I needed to do the deed. I knew this meant losing everything, my job, my house, my status...my life, especially because I intended on turning myself in when the deed was done. I walked up to the door and picked the lock. The house was somewhat quiet, the only sounds were light snoring and the sound of a television in the back where a blue light was flickering. I crept toward the noise to find Roush sleeping in his old, beaten up recliner. I pitied the man before me, he'd gotten fat, he looked beaten, but not any worse than what I had planned to do to him. When I approached his sleeping form, I made a wrong move, the board squeaked, and Roush woke up. I froze, and when he saw the hunting knife in my hand his eyes grew wide, I could almost taste the fear I saw in his eyes. "Why did you do it Roush?" He looked at me with genuine confusion, "What?" "You killed her. Why? For the money? Was that it? Was that all you wanted?" With each question, I grew angrier and angrier almost to the point of yelling. If I didn't stop soon a neighbor would hear me. "I never intended to. It just happened. I was desperate." He didn't deny knowing what I was talking about, which I respected him for. "She was the most important person to me..." When I saw no real remorse in his eyes for his deed that had gone unpunished, that's when I pounced. Roush screamed.
In the end I had stabbed his chest 3 times and his stomach 6. He had a broken nose, swollen cheeks, a busted lip, a broken rib and two black eyes. I felt remorse for what I had done, and what was worse, I felt no better about the man laying dead at my feet who had killed my mother. It was all for nothing. When 10 minutes had passed and I finished sobbing, some of my mates from the office barged in and arrested me. I struggled and got hit in the head with a night stick. That's when I passed out. And over 24 hours later I woke up in this jail cell confused and now sobbing while my cell mate stares at me in bewilderment. I knew what I had done, and I regretted it all upon remembering. It was all pointless.
I reached into my pocket and found five items that confused me. "Why is all of this in my pocket?" As I looked down at the items I held in my hands, the memories began to flood back to me with a pounding headache. In my left hand I held a hunting knife with a golden handle, I recognized this as the same one my father owned. But the part that wasn't normal was the glob of dried blood stuck to the blade of the knife. This was the strongest evidence of what I had done. I knew what the white handkerchief had been used for. It was clean, mostly, apart from some of the blood that had gotten on it from the knife. Then I looked to my right hand and saw a brass knuckle, which I knew had contributed to the harsh bruising and pain in my left hand, my non-dominant hand. Next was a picture of my mother and I from when I was a kid, "we looked so happy." And last was the piece of paper with an address on it...his address. Then it was confirmed, I knew I had finally taken my revenge.
Backtrack seven years to when I was a senior in high school. It was midway through Spring semester, I was about to graduate. It was March 17, 2014, I remember the day very clearly, I was called into the principle's office because he wanted to talk to me. I was scared obviously, I mean I hadn't done anything wrong, right? I couldn't remember doing anything anyways. Well it turns out I hadn't done anything wrong, he just had some new for me. "Ah, Miss Justice. Please, have a seat. I need to talk to you about something very important." His voice held a grave tone, he stopped and looked me dead in the eyes and sighed. "Your father called me about twenty minutes ago, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you have to meet your father at the morgue at Riverside Hospital. Your mother has been killed. "No..." Everything faded out. I couldn't hear anymore of his words, I couldn't think, I couldn't feel, I was just numb. I left the school in shock and drove to the hospital to see my mother's dead body.
When I finally got to the hospital, I saw my father in tears with a very official looking cop standing next to him. When I began to approach the pair, the cop made eye contact and advanced towards me. I stopped and waited for him. I didn't say anything when he stood before me, I just looked, and waited. Turns out my mom was headed to grab some lunch when she turned the corner and saw a man there in the ally. She worked downtown and of course it's always a sketchy place. The man was crazy, he saw fit to attack my mother and mug her. When she fought back, he pulled out a gun and shot her through her stomach. The cops didn't know who had done it. There was no security footage and there were no witnesses to the attack. There were a couple people that they had suspicions of, but in the end their alibis were solid and there was no suspect. The case was close.
Now, back to the present. I'm 24, and I'm a detective now. When I finally made it into the police force after graduation, I reopened my mother's case and did some investigating of my own. I did what the police couldn't, I found her murderer. I had found that the guy's name was Donny Roush, he was divorced with two kids and still lived on the bad side of Columbus. I'm a cop, I know what I did was wrong, but I needed the satisfaction of knowing that he suffered as much as he made my mother suffer. The day before I ended up in this tiny cell with Lace I went to visit my father, like I do every Saturday morning. That's when I picked up the hunting knife with the gold handle. The handkerchief also came from his house, though it was my mother. I needed some way to wipe away the prints. When I grabbed it out of her things I had to stop for a minute, that little handkerchief meant something, it was one of the few things I had left of her. Engrave in the bottom corner were her initials, SDP, in white thread. In that box was also a picture of my mother and I, upon seeing it I pocketed it. I took the items I needed and left my father's house. Earlier in the week, when I had found Donny Roush, I wrote his address down, I carried that with me then too. After leaving my dad's, I went and bought the brass knuckles for my left hand, I needed some protection for that hand too. After I had gotten everything I needed, I took out that small piece of paper in my pocket with the words 2976 Mail Brooke Drive written on it. I stared at it for a minute and set off to bring Mr. Roush to his demise.
Midnight: July 12. I was sitting in my car staring at the small bungalow that held my fate along with Donny Roush's. I waited for an hour to gain the courage I needed to do the deed. I knew this meant losing everything, my job, my house, my status...my life, especially because I intended on turning myself in when the deed was done. I walked up to the door and picked the lock. The house was somewhat quiet, the only sounds were light snoring and the sound of a television in the back where a blue light was flickering. I crept toward the noise to find Roush sleeping in his old, beaten up recliner. I pitied the man before me, he'd gotten fat, he looked beaten, but not any worse than what I had planned to do to him. When I approached his sleeping form, I made a wrong move, the board squeaked, and Roush woke up. I froze, and when he saw the hunting knife in my hand his eyes grew wide, I could almost taste the fear I saw in his eyes. "Why did you do it Roush?" He looked at me with genuine confusion, "What?" "You killed her. Why? For the money? Was that it? Was that all you wanted?" With each question, I grew angrier and angrier almost to the point of yelling. If I didn't stop soon a neighbor would hear me. "I never intended to. It just happened. I was desperate." He didn't deny knowing what I was talking about, which I respected him for. "She was the most important person to me..." When I saw no real remorse in his eyes for his deed that had gone unpunished, that's when I pounced. Roush screamed.
In the end I had stabbed his chest 3 times and his stomach 6. He had a broken nose, swollen cheeks, a busted lip, a broken rib and two black eyes. I felt remorse for what I had done, and what was worse, I felt no better about the man laying dead at my feet who had killed my mother. It was all for nothing. When 10 minutes had passed and I finished sobbing, some of my mates from the office barged in and arrested me. I struggled and got hit in the head with a night stick. That's when I passed out. And over 24 hours later I woke up in this jail cell confused and now sobbing while my cell mate stares at me in bewilderment. I knew what I had done, and I regretted it all upon remembering. It was all pointless.
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