Ughhh

People who constantly complain really grind my gears. I understand people have bad days or life doesn’t always go as planned, but when people constantly complain it really bothers me. It seems like they never appreciate anything in life. For once I wish they would breathe and appreciate the life they have, as supposed to constantly ridiculing everything and taking life for granted. I want to spend time enjoying someones’s company, not listening to complaint after complaint after complaint.

I don’t mind listening to a legitimate complaint. But when people complain about something small and innate, it really irks me. I almost feel hypocritical writing this because I’m complaining about people who constantly complain. If you had a bad day or something went wrong, tell me about it. However, if you’re complaining about something null for the one thousandth time, count me out. I want to spend time with people who are appreciative, not those who constantly put others down or wallow about how terrible some minute detail is that honestly won’t matter five days or five minutes from now.

Sans E

Shaking, I jump into Sasha’s pool, a cold splash soaking into my skin. Surfacing, I look around. Isolation. Tranquility. Shaking from such an abrupt chill, my lips now match my dark surroundings. A kind of myth surrounds this pool, but I know what truth actually inhabits this six by forty yard giant bathtub, and what truth inhabits Sasha. Sasha knows, but Sasha’s opinions and mind hold no ground today. Or two days ago. Or tomorrow. Sasha was a casualty, and its my job to not omit any truth of who Sasha was. Or I wish it was that straightforward.

Sasha is part of a long list of victims by a nontraditional assassin. A hit list with blurry links. Sasha, Mika, Marcus, and so on and so on. Fighting pain on Monday turns into nurturing a calamity on Sunday. Taking poison, mistaking it for salvation. Looking for a solution in midst of insanity. Too many taking pills for pain that did not occur.

New Word

Last night in preparation for our Passover seder (Jewish dinner where we read the hagada and eat matzo) I was helping my parents clean the house. We needed to extend our table to seat everyone, which can be done by pulling apart the table at the end and taking out leaves that are hidden underneath, so I tried to ask my mom if she could help me with it. However, I couldn’t remember what to call the process so I started mumbling about “table, like ummmm, help please, make uhhh, bigger”. Needless to say, my brain could not remember the word I was thinking of so I garbled around like an idiot until my mom could rescue me and ask if I meant extend. This actually happens to me a lot, where I forget a word and don’t know what to say. I think we need a word for when someone forgets a word, and it should be garbcatur, a mixture of garble and the oblivicatur, the latin word for “forget”. I garbcatur all the time and I think it would be really helpful to have a word for it. The next time I forget something I’m about to say, I’ll have a garbcatur moment.

 

 

Unauthorized Medical Experimentation/Eugenics

After taking a course on infectious diseases last summer at Duke TiP I became incredibly interested in pandemics and medical history. When reading invisible man, I got to combine the later with this book, when reading about the unauthorized Medical Experimentation/Eugenics that appear in the hospital scene of the book. Even before reading up on the subject, you can tell that something is wrong in the hospital when one of the doctors is having doubts about the ethics of experimenting on the narrator without his approval. The doctor asks his fellow doctor “suppose it were a New Englander with a Harvard background” (Ellison 236) showing that the doctor full out knows the experiment is wrong and knows he’s only allowed to perform it because the subject is black. Now I already knew a bit about the Tuskegee Syphilis study, in which African American men were unknowingly given syphilis and prevented from getting treatment, but this part of the book calls attention to the taboo parts of medical history in the United States. As a result of this study “of the original 399 men, 28 had died of syphilis, 100 were dead of related complications, 40 of their wives had been infected and 19 of their children were born with congenital syphilis” (supplements). We like to think that this part of history happened so long ago, but the syphilis study did not end until 1972. Clearly unauthorized medical experimentation was a problem, and I’m glad Ellison calls attention to it in his novel.

I’m not sure why Ellison included this in his novel other than to call attention to this issue. By understanding the unlawful and immoral experimentations that were going on we can better understand the time period as readers in the modern day. However, as a reader when the book came out hopefully this could raise awareness of unauthorized experimentation going on. By bringing attention to the issue maybe something could’ve been done. If we can understand that this wasn’t just a one time occurrence in the novel, it was part of a much bigger problem for the time, than maybe people could see what was going on around them. Additionally, since the experiment went wrong in the novel it adheres to the results of the Tuskegee Syphilis experiment in which many died from complications due to syphilis. Overall, Ellison tries to stay true to history by including this snippet in his novel and hopes to persuade readers of the horrible wrongs facing the African American community.

 

 

Labyrinth Sentence

To walk through her house is to walk through a maze of history with the leaders in controversy and politics, from queens to kings to ambassadors to presidents to gifts from royalty sitting next to the vase from the Chinese ambassador that lies below the framed photo of the Israeli and Egyptian ambassadors meeting for the first time-a feat which she compliments to herself and that famous barbecue roughly thirty-eight years and some months ago- and one could never forget her shrine and ode to the Kennedy family; accompanying the ostentatious decor is the decorated carpet over the deep wooden floors that somehow counteract the scarlet red walls, and all of this emphasizes the chilling portrait of her late husband.

Viking Advice

Whenever I need advice I usually consult my brother or a friend. Rarely have I ever looked to an outside source, or a list of Viking sayings like I did today. “The 80 wisdom sayings of Vikings” or “Hamaval” were surprisingly interesting to read but kind of difficult to understand. One that particularly struck me as interesting was this:

71. The halt can ride on horseback,
the one-handed drive cattle;
the deaf fight and be useful:
to be blind is better
than to be burnt:
no one gets good from a corpse.

The basic meaning is that everyone serves a purpose in society and all life is valued. No matter one’s limitations, everyone can benefit society. While this is kind of a capitalistic view of society, I like the message behind it. People should not be defined by what they can’t do, but rather what they can. We should not accept limits placed on us but rather should work to defy those limits.

In modern life this is very true. We are constantly labeled into certain boxes by society and must work to get out of that box. Whether labeled a jock, nerd, geek, or something else we all are defined by certain characteristics and must work around them in some way. However, it’s important for us not to get bogged down by these limits. If we think there’s something limiting our success or ability to do something then we should work around that difficulty in order to accomplish the task.

This is also seen in literature. In The Grapes of Wrath, Tom Joad, who killed a man and is on parole, is constantly judged by his actions. While it was in self-defense and he would do it again, people treat him differently because of it. The man driving the truck at the beginning of the novel is wary because of it. Tom’s siblings admire him for it. However, Tom constantly has to work at not getting in trouble or arrested because he might get sent back to jail. He is judged by society for his mistake, but he constantly tries to reassert himself and prove what a good person he is. Additionally, he has to stay out of trouble but Tom still tries to stick up for what he believes is right. When the Joad family’s car breaks down, Tom and Casy fix it while the family goes off to a camp that they have to pay for. When Tom tries to join them, the man in charge of the area tries to charge Tom even though the family has already paid. While Tom gets angry,  he talks to the man instead of fighting him because Tom knows he could go back to jail for fighting. Thus, Tom works around his limit of parole in order to get what he wants.

News Worthy

Being in debate, I kind of have to keep up with current issues and events. However, these past few days, weeks, and months I’ve had trouble reading the news simply because it is so upsetting. I definitely have very strong political view points on several major issues, and the last few months (since November 8th to be precise) have been unnerving. So I decided I would try for a happier article.  An article published by The New York Times tells the story of Cedric Herrou,a bearded french farmer. Besides growing olives, Mr. Herrou has helped dozens of African refugees cross the Italian boarder into France. However, he was caught but ended up only having to pay a minor fine of 3,000 euros, but if he stays out of trouble for the next five years then he won’t have to pay it.

This article was very heartwarming to read. Even when faced with breaking the law, Mr. Herrou was a true hero in helping those in a dire situation. This reminded me of Grapes of Wrath when people break the law or do something against their job because they know it’s the right thing to do. All around the world right now, borders are being closed to refugees and immigrants, but Mr. Herrou’s actions showed him standing up for refugees, and helping those in need get to where they can have a better life. If the world had more people with Mr. Herrou’s mindset, then our world would be filled with more love and less hate. Overall, reading this article made me feel good about the world, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Short fiction

The gash on his leg slowed him down a bit, but he still managed to carry her all the way to the foot of the staircase, carefully checking over his shoulder as he limped through the house. Faint echoes could be heard from the dinner party just a story below, but right now they were the only ones in this part of the grand house. Reaching the base of the steps he sat her down and adjusted his pant leg to cover the wound. Coming to, the girl blinked open her eyes slowly, resting them on the covered wound.

“Did he…” she started out, not knowing how to finish her thought.

“I’m fine Jess. All you need to know is that the dinner is still going on and he’s not here, but if there’s one bright side it’s that I made sure to clean up our tracks, can’t have Grandma knowing that we spilled blood on her precious marble floors.”

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, the two looked at each other in alarm. As quickly as she could, Jess dragged her accomplice into the library next to the staircase with her. Closing the doors behind them, Jess turned on the furthest lights, just enough to see but not enough to be seen. Waiting until the footsteps went away, Jess let out a sigh of relief and took in the familiar sight around her. Library was a bit of a stretch, this room was a showcase, meant to impress with books not meant for opening and chairs not meant for sitting. Eclectic art pieces and gifts from around the world coated shelves, emphasizing the hundreds of photos in the room. Kings, queens, presidents, vice presidents, ambassadors, senators, you named it they were in here, forever frozen in time while grasping Grandma’s hand. Everything over-the-top and grand, this was the museum of the house, the pride and joy of Grandma’s existence and career.

“Danny, do you need me to wrap that up for you, that nasty gash is going to get all over the place and you know how Irene gets about cleaning up blood. Says she’s on to us, she’s been looking for a way to get us in trouble ever since we moved here.”

“Jess don’t worry about Irene, trust me, she’s the last one we need to worry about right now. We need to find that man again, until we do you’re not safe and neither are the dozens of politicians, ambassadors, and family friends we’ve got down stairs tonight or in the future.”

“Don’t forget Grandma.”

“I didn’t. Look, all I know is that he won’t stop until someone  is dead, we were accidental targets and you ended up with a bump on your head and I ended up with a knife wound in my leg. Imagine what happens when he gets the right target this time.”

“I’d rather not. Plus how can we tell anyone down stairs? No one believed me when I saw him break into the house last week, the night Grandma canceled the dinner she was supposed to have for that senator. He obviously was looking for someone then and if I go to Grandma now I just look desperate. I’m the troubled brat that just wants attention, never mind the fact that there’s an actual threat. Besides, everyone saw us arguing before the dinner and your wound is minor, what if people think that I did it and I’m just trying to deflect the blame from myself.”

“Jess, calm down. No one will think that, besides he already left and there’s no proof of a forced entry in the house, I tried looking at the tapes after last time and there’s not even any evidence of him on those. Look, he’s got to have someone on the inside and he has some specific target that was supposed to be at the last dinner and at this one. We’re not in harms way because he only tries when we have guests over, the only problem is maybe third time’s the charm for him and he actually gets his target.”

Jess let out an involuntary shudder at Danny’s words. She knew she needed to tell people but she didn’t know how. Mustering her wits, she walked towards the door.

“Look, one of us has to go back to the dinner and I think it should be the one without the stab wound in their leg. I’ll just go tell Grandma what happened and pray that I’m believed this time. You stay put, I don’t want to make a scene or cause panic and your leg would do the opposite. I promise I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I’ll solve this problem before it gets any worse.”

Jess hurried out of the library and towards the staircase, trying to play out how she would tell  Grandma about the intruder in her head. Jess started down the stairs quickly when she felt a shove from behind, and she tripped over her speeding feet and fell into blackness.

It was ruled a suicide. Just another society girl. Rumor had it she drank too much champagne. Others claimed she had depression after the death of her parents. Maybe she went crazy after living in that house where photos with a president meant more than lunch with a granddaughter. She cried a lot. Wasn’t doing well in school. It really was a shame, she was so young, so much potential. Had a good relationship with her brother. Pity he couldn’t stop her from falling when she jumped down the stairs. He watched the whole thing. Standing right behind her. Alone.

 

Another one bites the dust

The first chapter of The Grapes of Wrath started off a bit dull. There was good land that was red, but then the rain stopped coming and it turned bad and gray. When looking at dust bowl photos, it makes me feel in awe that something like this happened about 80 years ago. Nevertheless, the photos were depressing and the effects that it had on millions of people blows my mind.

Sand Dunes. Oklahoma Panhandle 1936

This first photo made me think of the beginning of the book, and not just because the land is gray. This very photo fits in perfectly with Steinback’s description of “all day the dust sifted down from the sky… an even blanket covered the earth” (Steinback 6). In this photo it’s pretty evident that it is day time because the sky is a light color, but the sky itself is not a clear color. It looks foggy, but what’s making it look opaque is not fog, but dust. Even more, the whole ground is covered in dust, several feet of it. It looks like a farm meets the Saharan Desert. This photo reminds me of the initial chapter because everything is gray and colorless, life that used to flourish is now dull and dead, and everything is covered with dust. Instead of raining water it rained dust.

Enter a captChildren on proch, leaning on railing. 

This second photo also called to mind the first chapter, when Steinback writes “the women studied the men’s faces secretly… the children stood near by, drawing figures in the dust with bare toes” (Steinback 6). In this photo the woman stares intently at something out of range of the camera. Meanwhile the children stand around, staring at the same thing. This reminds me of the book because the woman and the children have a distinct place-by the home. In the novel it constantly emphasizes gender roles and the social hierarchy of the family, and I see that reflected in this photo. While there may or not be a father in the distance that they are staring at, this picture of looking at something with curiosity and worry is exactly what I saw in my mind in this chapter. Watching with worry, and hoping for the best.

There was a sacred cord

Out of all the artists that died in 2016, David Bowie was the only one that I had a connection to and that is only because I grew up watching the movie Labyrinth. Nevertheless, when looking for an artist to write about I remembered that the original singer of “Hallelujah” died. So after googling “singer Hallelujah dead” I decided to write about Leonard Cohen. Not only was he a very successful artist and sang one of my favorite songs, but he was also Canadian and Jewish. Hallelujah is his most famous song, but he’s had other hits like “Famous Blue Raincoat” and “Suzzane”.  After listening to a few of his songs I realized two important things: his music was not something I would normally listen to and there is a reason why I only listen to the Jeff Buckley cover of Hallelujah. Sorry Leonard, I just prefer Jeff’s interpretation of the song. I listened to several (ok 6) of his songs and my favorite one was Traveling Lights.

I’m traveling light
It’s au revoir
My once so bright
My fallen star

I’m running late
They’ll close the bar
I used to play
One mean guitar

I guess I’m just
Somebody who
Has given up
On the me and you
I’m not alone
I’ve met a few
Traveling light like
We used to do

Goodnight goodnight
My fallen star
I guess you’re right
You always are

I know you’re right
About the blues
You live some life
You’d never choose

I’m just a fool
A dreamer who
Forgot to dream
Of the me and you
I’m not alone
I’ve met a few
Traveling light like
We used to do

Traveling light
It’s au revoir
My once so bright
My fallen star

I’m running late
They’ll close the bar
I used to play
One mean guitar

I guess I’m just
Somebody who
Has given up
On the me and you
I’m not alone
I’ve met a few
Traveling light like
We used to do

But if the road
Leads back to you
Must I forget
The things I knew
When I was friends
With one or two
Traveling light like
We used to do
I’m traveling light

Once I got over the fact that Cohen’s voice sounds like someone reciting poetry instead of actually singing, I was able to sit back and enjoy listening to his soothing voice. Really, this is music I could easily fall asleep to, but that’s not an insult. The background guitar and vocals combined with Cohen’s voice makes for a really relaxing song. Before Cohen even begins to sing, the music already has me enchanted, waiting for more. Now I’m not one for analyzing lyrics, I actually really hate trying to interpret what artists want their music to mean, but his chorus of “I guess I’m just somebody who has given up on the me and you” really speaks to me. While I have never had a romantic breakup, like the one I assume he’s singing about, I have lost some very good friendships and this song kind of signifies how I felt. It sucks but eventually you move on. Nevertheless, this song with its background music reads hipstery to me almost. I could easily see it being played in a cafe while people in flannels and beanies sit around drinking  and eating organic and vegan coffee and food. I even feel inspired while sitting at home writing this. Something about writing a blog post, with a cat on my lap, while listening to this song just feels so right.

I’m not going to lie, I read this week’s blog post and I was not excited at all. Even after listening to a few of Cohen’s songs, I was not beginning to find anything I liked until listening to Traveling Light. However, despite dreading writing this blog,  I’m actually glad that Mr. Lindner posted this prompt and made me go outside my comfort zone. I did not expect to find anything I would like and I’m glad I was proven wrong. Who knows, maybe Traveling Lights will be my next jamadoo.