The Lottery

            Shirley Jackson’s short story, “The Lottery,” is a perfect example of the ‘tribal’ nature of any small community. The community in this story is content with their ways and with having their yearly “lottery.” There is talk “that over in the north village they’re talking of giving up the lottery” (Jackson 294), however no one is actually planning on any sort of rebellion or change. I think this is true for most small communities, especially extremely small ones. Small communities are less willing to follow through with change. I think this is for the reason that most people have chosen to live in their small communities and therefore, like it the way it is. They do not want it to change for reasons such as it may get bigger, more dangerous, and/or more expensive. Old Man Warner, after the thought of giving up the lottery comes up, states “First thing you know we’d all be eating stewed chickweed and acorns. There’s always been a lottery” (294).

            The first thing I thought of while reading this short story was “The Hunger Games” trilogy, where a number of districts choose a female and male, both under the age of eighteen, to battle to the death. This is supposed to serve as a reminder to the districts that the State has and always will have the power to do whatever they want. However, after class yesterday, I thought of a television show I’ve recently become obsessed with, Sons of Anarchy. In this show the motorcycle club, Sons of Anarchy, take a lot of pride in their little town and pretty much run things the way they want. The community doesn’t challenge them or try to get them out of their town. The club sells guns to local gangs and transports drugs for a cartel. Many deaths have been the result of their “jobs.” In the beginning seasons, the town police officer was on their payroll, making it easy for them to get away with murder. I think some of the community felt safe knowing the club was there protecting their club, however some were probably scared to challenge them. I think this is much like “The Lottery.” Some of the community would probably like to give up the lottery but don’t want to challenge anyone’s authority or tradition and some of the community, like Old Man Warner, thinks giving up the lottery would be suicide.

"Girl Immitation"

Pull your pants up; walk with your head up; comb your hair; hold the door open for women; show respect; demand respect; this is how you check the oil; this is how you shoot a deer; this is how you dig a hole; this is how you use the barbecue; this is how you drive a stick; this is how you treat women; do not be your father-your father never knew how to treat a woman; protect your sisters; work as hard as you possibly can; save your money; marry a woman who makes you proud of the man you've become; don’t drink and drive- your father might still be here; cherish your family, do not judge those who are different from you.

Test Prep II

Enjambment 

I find reading poetry really difficult because I'm usually not sure if I need to pause or keep reading straight through.

http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/glossaryItem.do?id=8102
This link has a nice definition, as well as some references to poems using enjambment.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKgD0fq54y4
This video is of teachers reading end-stopped poems and poems using enjambment. I liked it because as they are reading, the words are on the screen making it easy to follow.

http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/singlePoem.do?poemId=5139
This link is an example of a poem using both enjambment and end-stopped lines.

Test Prep

Denotative Vs. Connotative

http://www.csun.edu/~bashforth/098_PDF/06Sep15Connotation_Denotation.pdf

This link did a really good job of helping me understand how different ways of saying the same thing can evoke different emotions in the reader. One example used in this text is the difference between “cheap” and “inexpensive.” There are learning exercises in the text as well.

An example of connotation in a poem is:

 “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost

And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

Howl Imitation

I saw the best minds of my generation walking with minds closed and hearts full with hate

Who can’t force a modest smile at the homeless person on the corner

Who walk around spouting vile words to describe those who are different from themselves

I saw the best minds of my generation waste away their lives

Who are blessed with amazing talents, but can’t put down the pipe.

Who are capable of so much, but willing of so very little.

I saw the best minds of my generation throw garbage out their car window without hesitation

Who put their cigarettes out in flower beds and playgrounds

Who can’t recycle even when the opportunity is in front of them

I saw the best minds of my generation consume their time with meaningless technology

Who can’t put their cell phone down at the dinner table

But can’t call Grandma on her eightieth birthday

I saw the best minds of my generation use violence in place of knowledge

Who think that brutality and bloodshed is power

I saw the best minds of my generation have no concern for the future generations to come.

Imagist Poem

In a Café on Decatur St.

A sizzling, sweet bundle of beignets.

Snowcapped mountains in June.

Sestina

My life is one big ocean.

So much color.

So much unknown.

My comfort zone is the sand.

Anything further is the rest of my life.

The ocean is my world.

Out there is an extraordinary world.

A brilliant and glittering ocean.

A mysterious life.

An ocean with an array of emotions and color.

Don’t wait in the sand.

Voyage into the unknown.

Both good and bad reside in the unknown.

There’s good and bad in the world.

Don’t be the man on the sand.

Don’t miss out on the adventures in the ocean.

Enjoy the fear and the color.

Enjoy your life.

Make the most of your life.

Cherish the beauty in the unknown.

Paint your life with color.

All the colors in the world.

There’s more than blue to the ocean.

There’s no blue on the sand.

The ocean creeps up onto the sand.

Asking you to start your life.

Don’t disobey the ocean.

Don’t be afraid of the unknown.

Make your mark in the world.

Accept your color.

Every emotion has its color.

Neutral is the sand.

An artist’s palette is the world.

Paint the picture of your life.

Leave room for the unknown.

Leave room for your ocean.

Give color to your life.

Leave the sand behind and swim through the unknown.

The world is your ocean.

Unexpected Ode

Ode to Pencils

Short and slender,

Long and slender.

You may be

Blunt and dull, 

Or sharp and bright.

Chewed on by boredom,

Monotony and confusion,

You will still 

Erase our mistakes.

Designer of words,

Some beautiful, 

Some ugly.

Authors of letters

To lovers far away.

An Artist’s greatest tool,

Shading and shadowing 

The world’s splendor.

Teaching children 

To hold you,

To start their lives

With you

by their sides.

My fingers wrap

Around you,

Allowing me

To create.

Litany Imitation

You are the rum and the coke,

the tobacco and the pipe.
You are the fly on the wall
and the angel on my shoulder.
You are the years of knowledge,
and the old vintage sweater.

However, you are not the calm before the storm,

the boxer in the ring,
or the lion's roar.
And you are certainly not the guitar in need of tuning.
There is just no way that you are the guitar in need of tuning.

It is possible that you are the man in the moon,
maybe even the coffee with too much sugar,
but you are not even close
to being the sound of the waves crashing.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the mortar
nor the pestle.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the whistle of the kettle.

I also happen to be the neon sign in the window,
the taxi down the street
and the phone call away.

I am also the gin

and the tonic.
But don't worry, I'm not the rum and the coke.
You are still the rum and the coke.
You will always be the rum and the coke,
not to mention the tobacco and--somehow--the pipe.

 

Hey Everyone!

       Hey everyone! My name is Alanna. I'm 22 years old and currently a freshman at LCSC majoring in Biology. Eventually, I would love to become a biologist specializing in research and conservation of marine environments. I love that there is so much unknown in our oceans and all the beauty they hold.
      I was raised in the valley and enjoy the outdoors. I love camping, going to the beach, and playing tennis. I also like to read, watch movies, and spend time with my friends, family, and cat.
      I currently work at Polar Bear Frozen Yogurt. It was my first job when I was 16 and I have worked there on and off ever since. It has always been a great job and I've made a lot of friends while working there.
      I'm looking forward to talking with you all!
     
      Alanna