My Deepest and Most Revealing Feelings About First Semester in AP English Literature

      I'm going to start out on a positive note by sharing all of the things that I have especially liked about AP English Literature this year. Firstly, I enjoy blogging. In the rare occasion that I actually have something that I feel is worth writing, I think that it is really nice being able to write and share it. Blogs are also a really easy 30/30 in the grade book, so I think that it's all just a win-win situation. It's fun to do some no-pressure writing every once in a while! I also really like being able to listen to the class discussions every time we read a book. It kind of fascinates me how complex everybody's thought trains are when it comes to interpreting those stories, especially since I tend to only see the most rudimentary details. Thirdly, I absolutely positively love the fact that our final is based solely off of a presentation dealing with a topic that we are actually interested in. Not only is this stress free, it is also really fascinating and I really like having the option to choose which books I want to read.
      And now for my hate paragraph. I hate essays. I hate sitting in front of a computer for twelve years fumbling over which adjective to use and how to not sound redundant, because quite frankly, sometimes I have a lot of trouble writing multiple pages about a book that I didn't even enjoy. I also hate turnitin.com. Here is why: access to the internet is a huge variability among students. I, for one, only have one computer in my household. It is shared with four other busy family members. In many instances, getting myself a turn on  the computer is both inconvenient and frustrating. Furthermore, what if your internet crashes? It isn't a dependable source for a lot of people, including myself, and I think that the extra struggle is extremely unfair. For example, tonight I am writing my blog at 11:44 pm because that is when my sister happened to finish doing her research project. I would much rather be sleeping. But besides excessive internet requirements and difficult essays, there really isn't that much that I dislike about AP English at the moment.
    Ending on a positive note, I think that this has been a really productive semester. I felt challenged every day in class and things never really got boring. I especially enjoyed the drama unit, which was discussed in my last blog. I am really looking forwards to next semester (with exception to the AP test).

A Reflection On the Drama Unit

      The drama unit has been by far my favorite yet. I'm not going to lie, a good half of the reason is because we got to spend time doing a lot of watching rather than a lot of reading. However, this isn't to say that I didn't enjoy reading Hamlet or Oedipus. I think that Hamlet would have actually been a really fun read, had it not been for the middle English and me struggling to understand half of the words. But hey, what's AP English without a challenge? I also think that the whole discussion items thing was a really nice way for me to be able to take some time to understand what was going on in the book a little bit better. Rather than having to sit there with a translator next to me all night while I was reading, and then proceeding to freak out because I knew we had a quiz coming, I could just clarify my misunderstandings and interpretations in class with my fellow students. It's also a much easier way to be able to involve yourself in discussion without having to not be shy or scared of saying something stupid in front of the entire class.
     Secondly, I thought that The Importance of Being Earnest was absolutely marvelous! Particularly the part where we got to actually watch the video. It was a fun way for me to be able to see all of the elements of satire in action without actually having to read. Especially for this play, reading would not have been able to have the same effect as seeing the actors actually performing the script on stage. I say this especially because the funniest part of play - by far - was Cecily's crazy fantasies of ponies and people dressed in flowered garments playing pan flutes and minstrel music. That level of cheesiness is definitely my type of humor.

I'm Not Actually A Potato In Case There Was Any Confusion.

      I love satire, but I can't really think of anything that I want to write about it. I'm not even kidding, I've been staring at my computer screen for the past ten minutes trying to think of something witty that I could do with the topic, but tonight is one of those times where after a week of no sleep, there's pretty much no way that anything creative is going to come out of my mind. College applications and projects and tests and practice every night have dulled me down to a point of where I would rather just go to my backyard, lay down in my garden, and pretend I'm a potato until eventually the rest of the world, including myself, forgets that I'm not a potato, and I actually think that would be a really happy life in comparison to what is being inflicted upon some of us right now in the academic field. However, complaining doesn't have much to do with English class, so here's some stuff on my favorite satire:

     Parody movies are probably the best when they're not overdone. The best example of this, at least in my book, is the movie Space Balls. I also enjoy the kind of satire found on Saturday Night Live, which is why I'm always parked in front of the television from the hours of 11:30 to 12:45 every Saturday night with few to no exceptions. Reading satire is okay, but only when it is strong enough for the reader to know that it is actually satire. Otherwise I kind of sit there and go back and forth between if it's real or not and then eventually bam! Not even funny anymore. The debating going on inside my head ruined it. Sarcasm is a type of satire that I often times use myself because I have a dark soul and I just can't help that. But you know what really irks me? When people use sarcasm over text. It doesn't work that way, you guys! Tone of voice is the key to making sarcasm obvious, so when it's typed on a text message and nobody is actually saying it, don't expect me to understand that you're joking. But anyways, that's about all I have to say about satire.

The End.

Why I Procrastinate

    Teacher's are always quick to assume that procrastination by a student is a direct product of that student's laziness, lack of motivation, or complete indifference to the subject at hand. Well, I have a different view. I believe that we all procrastinate for different reasons. Here is mine:

I don't entirely believe in reality.

Of course, I probably owe a little bit of explanation on behalf of my blatant statement. It's why I can't ever bring myself to do urgent homework assignments or do things that I don't particularly enjoy at all without much forcing on the behalf of my own guilt as well as the ever impeding parental unit. Yes, I am capable of forcing myself through such tasks, but hardly ever when it is in place of playing a piece of music or just going outside and staring at the sky. 

The great philosopher Rene Descartes suggested that all we can really know and believe in is our own consciousness. The more I am pushed towards extensive amounts of work that I have no interest in, the more I think to myself "So what if I don't do it?". Then there's the question of if it really even exists...if it really even matters. Yes, the work exists within my own consciousness, but, since it exists only in my own consciousness, couldn't I make it cease to exist? And here's the deal; I am completely in love with life. Whether this entire world is reality or not, I want to soak it all in. I want to be outside and hear music and enjoy every little aspect of it that my soul pleases. I think it is a sin to waste the limited time that I have been gifted in whatever this marvelous dream is that I'm living in doing things that I detest, like sitting in front of a computer for hours writing essays and blogs or buried in a textbook filled with subject matter that I am nothing but indifferent to. Especially when outside there is a sunset that is made up of all my favorite colors and I'm sitting here missing it all.

But the problem is, What if all of this is real? If it's definitely not a dream or anything inside my head and I am never going to wake up from it? Then I suppose I will have to face the consequences of my actions. However, this is a thought that for now, I can not really bear to think of, and it is the fear that arises from such a thought that still keeps me half way on track.

Most Beautiful Words In the English Language

    The topic of beauty is really open ended since it can describe almost anything. So if we're talking about words being beautiful, the real question is what about them do we find beautiful? Is it the way they look? The way they sound? Their meaning? Or maybe even all of the above. For me, it is what the word reminds me of.  I'm not the kind of person who sits there, hears a word, and thinks "Whoa that sounds nice", unless of course I am in French class. Every word sounds nice in French class (except for the really awkward ones that are meant to be pronounced in what sounds like an obnoxious grunt). I'm also pretty sure that unless it's written in beautiful ink-and-quill cursive, we rarely decide to think that a word is aesthetically pleasing.

    That being said, "What are Becky Smiley's favorite words?" you may ask yourself. Well, I enjoy many different words, but my favorite 9 are as follows:

1. Toaster: I like the word "toaster" because it reminds me of toaster waffles. Toaster waffles remind me of snow days, Christmas, and dental floss, all three of which are nice things to have in life.

2. Dental: The word "dental" reminds me of cool mints. Cool mint is nice because it makes your breath smell pleasant. When your breath smells pleasant, you are much easier to talk to. Also the word reminds me of those fun mornings at the orthodontist where I would miss math class and chill with my favorite dental technician who just so happened to look like Justin Timberlake. Who doesn't enjoy Justin Timberlake?

3. Birthday: My birthday is my favorite holiday of the year. It happened on Monday, in case anybody was wondering.

4. Caspian: Caspian is more of a title than a word, but it reminds me of Narnia, the ocean, and talking squirrels.

5. Sleep: Sleeping is my favorite activity. Thanks to work and school, I don't get much of it. When I am asleep, I am always calm and peaceful. This is mostly because I am unconscious.

6. Llama: I enjoy this word because llamas are my favorite animal and it reminds me of llamas. Also, a lot of things rhyme with it.

7. Music: The word "music" reminds me of pretty much everything in life that I enjoy. In fact, I think the biggest problem with life is that it doesn't have theme music like in the movies. It also reminds me of playing guitar on my back porch in the summer and drinking kool-aid.

8. Ocean: I can't actually pin point what I like about this word. It's just so expansive and vague seeming. It also reminds me of blue...but like...the pretty kind of clear crystal blue and the deep kind of blue. I'm not good at naming colors.

9. Rock: "Rock" is another one of those words that I can't pin point. It reminds me of a lot of things, most namely reefs and oceans. However, it also just kind of sounds really solid; it's another one of those words that sounds exactly like what it means. When someone tells you to picture rocks, there's just so much you can do with that; there's statues, beaches on the northeastern coast, cliffs, mountains, crystals, etc. I also enjoy climbing, which is very relevant to rocks.

Things That I Enjoy About AP English.

   I hate writing literary analysis papers. But then again...who doesn't?! I will admit though, there are far worse things. Most namely world hunger, the clubbing of baby seals in Canada, splinters, and - by far the worst of all - restrictive seating arrangements.

    This is my first year at Dunbar, so naturally I'm not quite accustomed to the ways of the school yet. For example, it's really hard spending your entire life having the liberty to move your chair in and out of your desk as you please in each and every class, and then having that right instantly stripped away from you with those stupid chair-attached-to-desk thingies with the annoying bar on the right hand side that messes you over if you happen to drop your pencil or something. In a normal school, when you drop your pencil, you can simply slide your chair out from the desk, reach over, and retrieve your fallen object. But nooooo, not at Dunbar! If your pencil drops on the wrong side here, you have to get all the way out of your seat, walk around the row of desks, retrieve your pencil, walk all the way back, and then sit down casually like you didn't just interrupt the teacher in the middle of their sentence. This is why I like English class. I don't even care how boring it gets at times so long as I have a chair that is not attached to my desk by a stupid bar. In English class, I feel safe and warm inside being able to have the security of knowing that my freedom to move has not been restricted. So thank you, for that.

College Admissions are Stupid and Nobody Likes Them and I Think I'll Go Join The Circus Now

I do recall Mr. Mullins saying that our blogs don't always have to be relevant to what we're working on and reading in English class, and that if something is really burning on our minds and irking us that we should try writing about it. So here it goes, because lots of things are irking me right now.

Firstly, I hate college essays. Nothing achieves the art of irking me more than college essays. You know what I think colleges should ask? Something along the lines of this: "What do you want to do in life? How will it help you or the people around you? Why should you even get accepted into college?". Instead they're throwing out crap like "What sparks your imagination?".  You know what, college admission guys? When you throw out essay questions like that, you've been living under a rock for the past infinity years if you actually think that you're going to get an honest answer from the bottom of that kid's heart. You know what sparks my imagination? Narnia. But that's not what you wanna hear. You'd rather have me sit there and lie about how some random topic I have been forced to study in some meaningless high school class has changed my life and got me so interested and involved in something or other and inspired my entire career plan. Don't sit there and think that us kids are actually being sincere in half of the things that we write for these stupid prompts, because we aren't. We're just spitting out what we know you want to hear. And you know what? I used a thesaurus for basically every big word in my essay and it has been peer edited just about 10,000 times, so don't think that you're really getting a sample of my actual writing skills.

Secondly, College Admission and Scholarship Guys, don't sit there and make me fill out my race and gender and socioeconomic information just so you can use it against me. I don't wanna sit there and write down stuff and fill in bubbles concerning my demographic that I know are just going to make it harder for me to be admitted. I'm not going to get too much into politics here, but I think it would be nice if we all had an equal chance for admission and everything could be based off of hard work and talent. The real way to promote equality is to become blind to race and gender, not to sit there and continue to use it against people. What was once called "reverse discrimination" is still discrimination. Notice how it still has the word "discrimination" in it. Sorry I was born a Caucasian girl and make up the majority of the people who are applying to college right now. Can't really help that.

Thirdly, College Admission Guys That I Hate, why would you look at our ACT scores and unweighted let me repeat, unweighted, GPA over everything else? I guess I would have benefitted from taking straight general classes and actually getting sleep at night or maybe even having a social life all of these years! After all, the goal for high school (for most students) is just getting into college anyways. Oh, but it's the ACT score that irks me most. Readers, in case you didn't know, colleges like UK look at your ACT score above everything else. Especially for scholarships. Well here's the deal: Let's say there's a kid with a 34 or 35 or something on his ACT, but its grades are comprised of almost straight C's. Yeah, this kid has proved itself to be smart, but if it gets poor grades along with that, what conclusions can we draw? It doesn't work hard. But no, you're gonna let it in over a straight-A kid with a solid 27ish type score who has obviously been working and dedicating itself much, much harder. What good is a genius if they choose not to apply themselves?

So basically I hate college and I think we should all just rebel against society's standards and not go. You know...there are actually some hoboes that lead pretty interesting lives.

Okay I'm done now.

I Start Writing My Blogs At 11:20 Because That's Called Living on the Edge

    I never wrote a blog reflecting on my first independent reading choice, so here it goes: Blood Meridian was the weirdest most disgusting book that I have ever read in my life. It's one of those things that gets so blatantly gory that you want to look away, but you don't because you're sitting there thinking "Did that really just happen? How is this author not in a mental institution?". But he's not in a mental institution, so high five on that one, Cormac McCarthy! Luckily, it wasn't the most difficult thing to write an essay about. However, here's the thing that I don't get: When you're looking at various banned book lists, controversy is determined by the use of offensive language, sexual content, the actions of the characters (I'm talking about poetically described mass murders), etc. Well, I will have you know that this book features racism, the "N" word at least 5 times, the sodomizing of dead bodies, and the cutting off of genetalia, scalps, limbs, ears, and anything else gross that you could think of. Now, by no means am I sitting here saying "Ban the book!", so much as I'm kind of just like "...really?". I understand that the gore and violence portrayed by McCarthy goes to serve a large thematic purpose in the novel, but it's just not the kind of thing that I want to read. People all over the nation keep saying things like "Ban Huckleberry Finn, you guys! It makes my kid feel offended", while I'm over here reading about how "two scarlet ropes extended from his headless neck, spewing into the fire", and that's the least of it, because things get pretty rapey in that novel. I understand that we're AP students and we're turning 18 and really there isn't a required filter for school books anymore, but I miss the times where I could read a book for school and be assured that everything in it would be compatible with my 12-year old personality's interest...and that means no potty words, rape, epic torture, over-described murders, etc. Instead I'm just kind of sitting there in class wondering if it's okay to discuss the happenings of my book because I'm so freaked out by them myself.

Excessisstentionalism

     Is it only me, or does anybody else hate pondering the meaning of life? I just don't get it. Obviously none of us will ever find the answer. No one ever has. I can't even begin to describe how lacking in passion I am towards that particular subject. The last couple of class periods have literally consisted of me sitting there taking shots of Mio Energy to try to stay awake and follow along with what on earth is happening with our extensive Existentialism discussion because quite frankly, I hate engaging in discussions like that and I don't care. The few parts that I have heard (and forgive me, if I have misunderstood them, because I have already stated that I was not all too engaged in class at all) just frustrated me to a point of where I didn't really even want to listen. Firstly, it seems like they're simplifying the concept of love way too much to a point of where it's just wrong. It's not like people choose to love; you don't just love someone because they make you feel all good inside or because they're nice to you or you enjoy looking at them or something. If that was the case, I think the world would have a lot less heart break, because from what I understand, people don't always choose to love good people that will love them back. Love isn't a selfish act because we do not choose it; it's far, far, far out of our control. I don't even think it's something that you can try to simplify or give a reason to. When's the last time you actually CHOSE to love someone? Secondly, Existentialism doesn't seem to take character into account. It defines a person externally, but internally, it's like nothing counts. Here's how I see it: There are about a million people who are accomplished bankers. They can all be defined by this external career accomplishment. But are they all the same? No. When you add in character, everybody is their own individual, and only then is the person described in all dimensions. Well, that's how I see it at least. And again, please forgive me if I have picked up the wrong idea or demonstrated any misunderstandings, because I'm being dead honest when I say that I don't quite get it at all.

Theme Statements Are Awkward And Nobody Likes Them.

         Up until AP Literature, I was always taught that the theme of the story was an overall idea that the author is trying to convey throughout their prose; that it was some kind of concept that we, the readers, were supposed to understand by the end up of the story through reflection of all the plot events as a whole. But no. Apparently  theme is actually a slightly generalized...and I repeat...only very awkwardly slightly generalized statement that shows what the author was supposedly trying to convey through the story. But you know what? Here's my problem with it: Let's take the The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, for example. I always thought that the theme of C.S. Lewis's classic tale was the importance bravery, friendship, and loyalty to your companions. Not in AP Lit! The theme is actually more something along the lines of "When children are forced to flee from war and violence in the real world, they may end up in compromising situations with talking animals, battle, and magic inside of a wardrobe." I bet Lewis would be proud of that one. Or hey, maybe the theme for The Lord of The Rings doesn't actually have to do anything with bravery and perseverance, it's really just "When one object holds the power to rule the world, it may cause temptation, violence, and the suffering of young hobbits." Pshhh, I guess Tolkien was trying to warn us not to go forging any rings of power, you guys! Readers, what kind of awkward and deceiving theme statements can you come up with to destroy the actual intended meaning of your favorite childhood tales?

Hemingway Fries My Brain Once Again

     My sophomore year, I was forced to do this giant book project on Hemingway's novel The Old Man and the Sea. It included a 45 minute power point presentation that consisted solely of me trying to explain to the class every single metaphor and allusion that the good old Ernest stuffed into a seemingly short and simple  80 page book. When I saw that we were assigned to read Hills Like White Elephants, I knew that I was in for another not-so-simple read as soon as I saw who the author was. 

     This story, unlike The Old Man and the Sea...was actually kind of straight-forwards in what it meant, or at least you may think. Hemingway goes the whole time just narrating a back and forth conversation between a young girl and a man, otherwise referred to as "the American". You can't even draw the conclusion that he is her lover for a little while. But...the big question that the reader is left with is what on earth the operation is that this man keeps urging the girl to pursue. And further, we are left wondering at the end if she decided to pursue it or not. Now, I may awkwardly be WAY off in saying this, but my theory is that the operation referred to during the course of the novel is actually an abortion. The story refers to elephants a couple of times. The popular phrase an "elephant in the room" is described as when you have a situation or topic of major importance that no one wants to talk about, but the topic is there nonetheless. The baby growing inside of the poor girl's stomach is the elephant that is in the room. The American (her lover) does not wish to take responsibility for the baby, so he is pressuring her to abort it, promising that their relationship will go back to normal and he won't leave her. Obviously, seeing how weak of a human being he is just for saying this, the girl should not trust him even with that...but the rant that would ensue from this criticism of mine clearly does not belong in an English class blog. Anyhow...they also conjointly refer to the operation as "not even an operation" that "doesn't take long". Many times, abortions can be done medically rather than surgically; the woman simply takes a series of pills that kill the fetus and make her feel sick for about a week or so. So, like I said, I may be really really wrong in this theory, but that's kind of just the guess that came to mind first.

PS I was absent during class today, so I missed the discussion on this. If my theory about the hidden meaning is really really really wrong, don't judge.

Stupid Books That Have Ruined My Boomerang Collection

In the words of my all-time favorite author, Daniel Handler (better known as Lemony Snicket):

"Of course, it is boring to read about boring things, but it is better to read something that makes you yawn with boredom than something that will make you weep uncontrollably, pound your fists against the floor, and leave tearstains all over your pillowcase, sheets, and boomerang collection." 

   I always thought that this quote was kind of funny and of course, characteristic of classic Handler writing with it's blatant honesty and awkward juxtaposition that always brings a slight comedic element in at the very end of the statement. I have to say that lately, the stories that we've been reading for this English class have really been reminding me of this particular quote from the Grim Grotto. For example, reading Atonement; I don't know how many of you read this book, but those of you who have (or even just watched the movie), know that the ending is literally the worst thing that has ever been put in the denouement of any book that you have ever experienced in your entire life. I think it's twelve times better to read a horribly boring book, like Moby Dick for example, where you don't get attached to any of the characters or the plot line...where you struggle just to stay awake for the duration of a page, than one like Atonement where you're completely drawn into the plot and you're almost certain that everything is going to turn out okay and then BAM! - everybody dies and justice isn't served and you sit at your desk crying a little and have to watch a small marathon of The Office to try and forget that none of it ever happened. But guess what? It did. That book raped your happiness, and now the ten hours of your life that it took to read it completely though, crappy denoument included, will NEVER be returned. At least you can feel productive about the infinity hours that it took to read Moby Dick because you've just exposed yourself to a classic and therefore, by default, are some kind of literary scholar genius type thing. And you don't have to waste additional time watching The Office to cheer you up. 

   Seriously, though...we've read three short stories in our anthologies; The first ended with a man being forced to murder a psychopath in order to save his own life, the second with a man who turned into a dark and dangerous killer because of the horrible and unjust oppression that ripped his innocence and purity away from him, and the third with a poor old man getting his beautiful home (which was all he really had left) completely destroyed and torn from its foundations by a chuckling taxi driver. Look, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that these stories tore me apart inside like Atonement did, because that's called "sucking up". However, I do think it's about time for a story with a decent ending...even if it is just for kicks and giggles.

Hobbits and Mermaids and Such.

      J.R.R. Tolkien was probably just sitting at home one night chilling with a cup of coffee and out of the blue he decided to invent hobbits. I mean...how does that happen? I'm glad it happened, of course; Lord of the Rings is probably the greatest thing that has ever happened to paper, ink, and, let's all be nerds and face it,  the entire cinematic industry.
     I don't quite get it though. When I really start to think about it, I have no idea how authors come up with things - what it is in their minds that just lets them invent and invent and invent while I'm just sitting there at my desk reading a thesaurus like it's the Bible because a decent vocabulary is all that my short story about talking vegetables is going to have going for it? Even worse, talking vegetables have already been invented by multiple authors, so it's not like I'm being original there or anything. I wish I could be like Tolkien or Rowling and have the genius to come up with a whole other world that people could obsess over and make trivia games about. Not just because I would enjoy being filthy rich, but because it must be so liberating to have that freedom of creation and possibility in writing. I absolutely hate writing, and honestly...it's mainly because of the writers block and my insane lack of innovation and creativity. What is it that makes certain people so full of ideas and then other people, like me, so devoid of them?

Most Dangerous Game

    It's always interesting to read something that you have read a few years prior all over again. I feel that each time, you find something new in the story that you weren't quite able to grasp before...whether it's underlying symbolism, motifs, or even just themes that the author was trying to emphasize. The first time that I read The Most Dangerous Game was in the seventh grade. What I remembered of the plot was just that it was dark and dangerous; a fun read, especially compared to all of the other boring stuff that they throw into anthologies for middle school English classes. I read the novel yet a second time my freshman year of high school at Lafayette. Again, the events of the plot were all that the teacher really chose to focus on in the class discussion. My third reading of Connell's classic short story took place about 4 days ago. I'm a senior in high school now, so my thought process during reading has changed a little bit since the good old days of Advanced English 1. 
   What I found in the novel during this third read was Connell's underlying idea of the hunter being the hunted and how the role reversal was able to show Rainsford the empathy towards life that, through his hunting career, he had lacked. In his desperation to evade General Zaroff and his hounds, the protagonist was thrown into a hell-ish situation of fear and desperation to stay alive. This same situation could be mirrored with Rainsford as the General and the game that he hunted just for the fun of it. Zaroff, on the other hand, had completely lost any empathy for life at all; he was so obsessed with his sport that it's value, and his love of the challenges that it could pose, made him completely lose his sense of humanity. There was also a certain sense of hypocracy that I noticed; It was completely okay for Rainsford to run around senselessly killing game that he didn't really need for food or survival just for kicks and giggles. However, it was not okay for the same to be done with him as the victim. However, I do understand that most people would not accept this theme, being that we tend to believe human lives are much more important than those of beasts. The fusion of this short story between a literary and a commerical read, with it's disturbing plot twists and dark elements, made it very fun to read while still giving the reader a lot to grasp underlying the plot itself. I enjoyed being able to see the classic in a new and more complex manner whilst reading it this time around.