Why high school does not prepare you for college –

[X] Read – Twelfth Night
[X] Read – Doctor Faustus
[X] Read – Sonnet Sequences
[X] Read – Harrington ch. 3
[X] Read – Klare Article
[X] Read – McCann Article
[X] Read – Verkuil ch. 1, 2, 5
[X] Read – Fiction book (for Homage Project) – Due Oct 29
[ ] Watch – Film "An Unreasonable Man"
[X] Case Brief – NLRB v Jones
[X ] Case Brief – Mistretta v US
[X] Workshop – Annotate all 3 short stories – Due Friday
[X] Workshop – Write letters to the authors – Due Friday
[X] Workshop – Write story for ‘structure’ submission – Due Friday
[ ] Spanish – Finish SAM W & L – Due Oct 25 (so I have tons of time still. Yay!)

Midterm + Test Dates
[ ] British Literature – Oct 28
[X] Politics of Administrative Law – Oct 20-21
[ ] Spanish Test 2 – Oct 25
[ ] Spanish Presentation – Oct 26
[ ] CW Workshop Submission – Oct 29
[ ] CW Homage Project Draft – Oct 29
[ ] CW Homage Project Presentation – Dec 3

& this is why people hate college sometimes, and say they were not prepared for the workload at all.

Doctor Faustus

I did the same thing with Twelfth Night below 🙂 This’ll contain some of the lines I really liked while reading through this play. Gotta love British Literature midterm examinations, right?

O, what a world of profit and delight,
Of power, of honour, of omnipotence,
Is promised to the studious artisan!

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,
Lord and commander of these elements.

I charge thee to return and change thy shape;
Thou art too ugly to attend on me.
Go, and return an old Franciscan friar;
That holy shape becomes a devil best.

Think’st thou that I who saw the face of God,
And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven,
Am not tormented with ten thousand hells,
In being deprived of everlasting bliss?

God forgive me, he speaks Dutch fustian. Well,
I’ll follow him: I’ll serve him, that’s flat.

The god thou serv’st is thine own appetite,
Wherein is fixed the love of Belzebub;
To him I’ll build an altar and a church,
And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes.
>>>>>> How gruesome!

Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.
>>>>>> Misery loves company. The reason Lucifer accepts Faustus’s soul in exchange for Mephistophilis’s service.

But what is this inscription on mine arm?
Homo, fuge! Whither should I fly?
If unto God, he’ll throw me down to hell.
My senses are deceived; here’s nothing writ:—
I see it plain; here in this place is writ
Homo, fuge! Yet shall not Faustus fly.
>>>>>> The use of “Homo Fuge” as the inscription in Faustus’ arm is one indication of the play’s classification as a morality play (5.77). The saying is Latin for “Fly, man,” which can be interpreted as a warning for Faustus to escape the evil that he is surrendering himself to before it is too late.

situ et tempore?
>>>>>> "In direction and in time?"

Damned art thou, Faustus, damned; despair and die!
Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice
Says “Faustus come! thine hour is almost come!”
And Faustus now will come to do the right.

I go, sweet Faustus, but with heavy cheer,
Fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.

Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appeared to hapless Semele:
More lovely than the monarch of the sky

Satan begins to sift me with his pride:
As in this furnace God shall try my faith,
My faith, vile hell, shall triumph over thee.
Ambitious fiends! see how the heavens smile
At your repulse, and laugh your state to scorn!
Hence, hell! for hence I fly unto my God.
>>>>>> Death of a virtuous Old Man who warned Faustus to repent and similarly be saved.

and what wonders I have done, all Germany
can witness, yea, all the world: for which Faustus hath
lost both Germany and the world, yea, Heaven itself,
Heaven, the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the
kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for ever, hell,
ah, hell, for ever! Sweet friends! what shall become of
Faustus, being in hell for ever?
>>>>>> Faustus regretting his decision to sell his soul. It’s touching T_T He is in despair, and speaks to fellow scholars of his Damnation.

Gentlemen, farewell: if I live till morning, I’ll visit
you: if not—Faustus is gone to hell.

Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;

O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell!

O soul, be changed into little water-drops,
And fall into the ocean ne’er be found.

editupdate: As of 3:15, I’m done with this play as well! Updated my homeworking list on LJ and I’m now gonna take a break before starting on my Politics readings!

Twelfth Night

I do so adore Shakespearean couplets. Observe below, they are beautiful. Or maybe I’m just in a good mood? Keep checking back, I’m updating this entry as I read more and more of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Seeing as to how the goal is to finish reading it tonight…wish me luck por favor.

But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
And your horse now would make him an ass.

To her in haste: give her this jewel; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay.

If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some
achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em.
>>>>>> One of today’s famous quotes. Easily recognized anywhere, yes yes ❤

This fellow’s wise enough to play the fool;

Let there be gall enough in
thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
About it.

Go call him hither. [Exit Maria.] I’m as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.
[Enter Malvolio, with Maria.]
How now, Malvolio?
>>>>>>> Don;t know where else I’ve heard Malvolio, but I know I have!
Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow
things: I am not of your element. You shall know more

Will you deny me now?
Is’t possible that my deserts to you
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you

In nature there’s no blemish but the mind;
None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind:
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks, o’erflourished by the devil.

O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love!

What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though
ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never
man thus abused. I am no more mad than you are: make
the trial of it in any constant question.

Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.

Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;
Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear’st.

Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call’d me master for so long,
Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
You master’s mistress.

when we know the grounds and authors of it,(365)
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Cesario, come:
For so you shall be, while you are a man;
But when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino’s mistress, and his fancy’s queen.

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that’s all one, our play is done,
And we’ll strive to please you every day.

Aiiiight. Done with reading Twelfth Night. Twas pretty hilarious actually. I’d suggest that you guys definitely check it out if you get a chance! I mean, I was seriously laughing out loud in the later acts. Gender confusion and practical jokes are much loved ❤

A Confused Ramble

Creative Writing Assignment: Write a story with at least two characters who misunderstand each other. (Choose whichever narrative voice you like: first, second, or third) In the alternative, write an epistolary story. Go on for at least 3 pages.
I sat in my bed, poring over Organic chemistry, Biology, and the Skype log of my last conversation with Chris. There had to be something I’d said that triggered his anger. It was frustrating – no matter how many times I read through our conversation from Sunday night, I found nothing wrong. We had been normal and relaxed. We’d both gone home for the weekend, and he had made sure to let me know how much he missed me. I had done the same.

I suppose I should go talk to him soon. In fact, I know I should. Scary thoughts are running through my head right now, and talking to him will dispel my demons. If he’s upset with me, he has only to tell me so, and we can have a mature discussion about what’s wrong and fix it and go back to being happy. It’s not a hard concept, but sometimes I fear that men don’t really understand what we want from them. They’re such confusing creatures.

I haven’t been telling him a lot about my personal life lately, but I didn’t want to burden him with my problems. He’s on the pre-medicine track here after all, and I know how stressful our classes are alone. I doubt he wants to listen to me break down about how stressful my life is because of family issues. And to be completely honest, he doesn’t even have the time to do that. He has a midterm tomorrow in his Statistics class. I found out because Anna, a friend of mine also in that class, told me. Why won’t he tell me even the smallest things?

I think he wants to break up with me. I know that’s what all of my friends are thinking too, only none of them are cruel enough to bring it up. I mean, I’m not completely oblivious so the truth. I just don’t understand why now, out of the blue, he doesn’t think I’m worth the time anymore? My best friend questioned me all the time when I told her I had no idea what Chris was doing unless I was with him.

Am I supposed to just stay with him all the time? Has he gotten bored of my company? I love him. He said “I love you” to me for the first time just three weeks ago. At first, I thought this was just his way of wanting some space to think things through, but I don’t understand why he can’t just tell me that instead of giving me the cold shoulder. He’s acting as if we were in elementary school, and the frustration wells up inside me. Fat teardrops are threatening to explode. I can’t understand why he won’t text me back. I asked if he was upset, and if we could talk. He didn’t even say hello to me in Organic Chemistry today.

I’ve just noticed how hard it is to rid myself of his shadow in my life. It’s only been four days with no contact, and already, I see glimpses of him everywhere I go.

My best friend told me I need to talk to him some more. Not just to figure out why he’s mad, but also to tell him more about my mother’s illness and how it’s straining my every move. I don’t know how to deal with the stress sometimes. I just know I need him here. I need him to help our relationship get through whatever these past four days have been like. I need to understand why, but he’s not letting me. He stays in the library to study for the most part, and when he gets back, he goes to play videogames with his friends, or goes to sleep. I’m worried about confronting him because if I don’t think I should need to stalk him and live vicariously through our mutual friends. My best friend tells me that I should know where he is, and not only because I constantly ask. Why won’t he tell me things!?

I think he’s probably just preoccupied. It is midterm week, after all. I think the best thing for me to do now is to ask him to go for a walk to me, and then talk to him. I would have done that a few days ago, when he first began ignoring me, but I didn’t want to seem too pushy. I really despise this method of coping with problems – it only amplifies them. No real solution will ever be found if he doesn’t even tell me what went wrong in the first place.

My vision’s blurring, and I wipe away a tear. I really need my best friend here right now. Colleges should not be allowed to be this far apart from one another. Sometimes, I wonder what happened that caused us to be so far apart. On most days, I’m happy that we’re able to lead separate lives and still keep in touch nearly every single day, but sometimes, I just want her to be here for me with a pint of ice cream and a chick flick. She has a boyfriend now too, but I don’t want to burst her bubble just yet and tell her how hard they are to maintain. I am a staunch believer – boys do not understand girls. Sometimes, we don’t understand them either, but they’re usually just very lazy individuals.

The whole time I’m sitting here thinking about this instead of studying for my midterm, I can’t help but think that he probably doesn’t even know that I feel ignored. I don’t want to blow anything out of proportion, but I can’t help but fall asleep missing him terribly. I’m probably just being a little too paranoid, but I love him. I do.

The Letter

Creative Writing Assignment: Write a first-, second-, or close-third-person scene or story wet with your narrator’s or main character’s subjectivity. Go on for least 3 pages.

Dear Scarlet,

I don’t think I could ever bring myself to tell you this from my mouth, so I’m letting my pen do the dirty work for me. I can’t stand it anymore – I need to tell somebody how dirty and tainted I feel now. Ever since that party, I can’t look at my own body without feeling disgusted. Of course, he probably doesn’t even care, but no matter how many times he apologizes, it won’t change the fact that I was just a mistake to him, and will probably never be anything else. I’m ashamed of letting myself go, but I also feel guilty for not taking better care of him that night. After all, who in their right mind would let their friend drink twelve shots of vodka nearly one after another, and expect there to be no repercussions?

Scarlet, I promise you, I wasn’t even that drunk that night. I liked him – but you already knew that. I just didn’t think that he liked me back. Not only that, he was still dating Cindy then. Well, the night I invited him over, he told me that Cindy had suggested they take a “break” – as if relationships are like real-life board games you can pause, grab a snack, and come back to again. But he told me that they were on a break, and we were already cuddling in the bed together, and the next thing I knew, he was leaning down to promise me he didn’t like Cindy and his lips were so close to my own, and then I was kissing him. Or maybe he kissed me first? I don’t know. That part is hazy.

We were in the dorm room, and I was sitting on my bed with him. The squeaky frame hadn’t stopped him from setting me down next to him and lowering his lips to mine, moving us backwards, sliding his slimy hands all over my body as if I was already his. I felt sickened even then, but I reminded myself that I liked him and he was single, and I let him continue. Then he tried to go entirely too far, and I pushed him off, mumbling that it wasn’t fair, there were other people around. I mean, I was throwing this party – I didn’t want them to think I was a slut. I’m still upset that he can turn me on so easily though. Scarlet, what if I never like another guy again? He was perfectly aggressive, and if we had been alone, I would have liked it very, very much.

But after I got off the bed, adjusting my shirt and smoothing my hair, I began to walk over to the other side of the room, where everybody else was lining up shots. He got up behind me and pulled me back to him, hugging me from behind as he kissed my neck in between saying that he was sorry. I turned around, made a face, kissed his lips again, and began to walk back to the rest of my friends, and the bottle of
Grey Goose. I wasn’t drunk enough for where this night was going.

The next thing I know, he was hugging me again but leading me back towards my bed. Then, we walked by my bed and he pushed me into the closet, closing the door behind us and shrouding me in black silence.

He started kissing my neck again, and I’m not going to deny you this – I really liked it. So now I know what it feels like to be wanted, even if it was only the result of a drunk mistake. I feel incredibly stupid for letting him do this, so don’t rub it in my face. That’s why I’m writing this to you and not telling you myself – if you so much as smile while reading this, I think I would burst into tears and feel even worse about myself.

He had me out of my pants, and then he trespassed so many boundaries that I can’t rightly tell you what next happened without crying myself. I can’t believe I let him do that, after upholding my morals and ideals for so many years. He broke all the lines, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for it. I pushed him off, but not until he had violated my internal promises, one and all. Before you freak out, stop reading this letter, and come banging on my door though, I just want to tell you that I didn’t go all the way with him. I think we got really close though.

I was pressed against the back of the closet, and I could feel the cold metal of my coat’s buttons against my back. He traced my body with his fingers, learning my curves and sketching them in the air, mesmerizing me with the strange beauty I saw in his lust-filled face. I’m pretty sure we dropped a few sweaters on the floor in our frenzy to explore each other’s lips. I think that I wasn’t really scared until I realized how aggressive he was. Suddenly, the dark closet, his lips harshly pressing against mine, and the coat button digging painfully into my skin jarred me from my drunken stupor enough to stop his hands from straying any more than they had.

I tried really hard to get out of the closet right away. I mean, I had friends over, and I’m sure they knew that I was in the closet with him. I was sure that they’d realized I wasn’t in the room with them. I listened, hoping to hear somebody ask where I had gone, but nobody did. Then I realized that his hands had slipped under the waistline of my skirt and I pulled away, gasping for breath, trying my best not to cry.

If he had asked me what was wrong, I think I would have begun sobbing. But he just pulled away, looking at me with a fierce and hungry look in his eyes. Like I was just another thing to abuse and get his way with rather than love and cuddle.

I tried rushing out of the closet, but he wouldn’t let me. He grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip that I knew was going to leave bruises. He pulled me back towards him and promptly began sucking on my neck again. For an insane second, I thought he was a vampire.

I whimpered and tried to get out again, and this time, he took me and pushed me against the opposite wall. I stumbled over my laundry hamper and nearly lost control of my footing, but some animal instinct made me right my balance before he could take advantage of my vulnerability and properly pounce.

He almost raped me – that part is obvious. I almost wanted him to – that’s the part that leaves me riddled with shame. I wanted things to go far, but at the same time, I stopped him before they got so far that we could never go back to being friends. It took time – you know I didn’t speak to him for the next six months or so. But he apologized, he’s still dating Cindy, and I’m quite sure that he had no right to trick me into thinking my dignity was gone with him. Because nothing happened, although everything almost did.

But almost isn’t good enough. He almost liked me – he told me so afterwards. “I think I like you,” he said, “but I’m not sure that I can leave Cindy.”

Do you know now why he broke my heart?


The Pond Race

Creative Writing Assignment: Write your own spin on a classic fable. Go on for at least 3 pages.
Aaliya ran out the door with her mom in pursuit. Her mom, good-humored and slightly frustrated, chased after her holding a pair of size 4 sandals and clean socks.

But Aaliya was having none of it. She made a beeline through the slightly overgrown grass toward the path that led around the house to her backyard. It wasn’t fenced in, but ran off indiscriminately into a lightly forested area. If you walked along the neatly worn trail, you would come across a tiny pond. Aaliya was headed to that pond right now, but she loved the feel of dirt under her ten year old feet. “Mommy, I’ll be back by supper. And I’ll clean my feet before I come in, don’t worry!”

Aaliya’s mother slowed her pace, allowing her daughter to run ahead down the path. She tread softly, walking through the grass towards the very same pond Aaliya so fancied. It was a pleasant day for a stroll, and off in the distance, she saw a little bunny rabbit hopping through the brush. In the distance, the pond mirror glistened, reflecting her effervescent mood. The day was bright, not a cloud in sight, and the sun filled the air with pleasant warmth. She watched her daughter fondly, enjoying the exercise and finding an acute pleasure in the way Aaliya crinkled her eyes a little bit when she smiled.

Aaliya ran toward the pond, smiling as she got closer to the edge. She bent down, peering through the surface, looking closely through the murk for signs of small fish. She threw in some fish flakes and then looked for smooth stones she could skip across the water. As she ran her fingers through the soil to her left, her fingers found a smooth pebble; its edges polished fine and round by the water. Picking it up, she moved her arm into skipping-stone position, but before she could throw the pebble, a movement in her peripheral made her stop and hold her entire body still.

Sometimes, Aaliya would sense a small scurrying around her and would freeze up in hopes to catch a glimpse of whatever animal was around her. She suspected that it was a little squirrel that had began living in the area, but she couldn’t be sure.

This time, her patience paid off and a small little rabbit hopped into her field of vision. Slowly, holding her breath as though the slight wind might give her away, she lowered herself onto the patchy grass and sat down. The bunny paid her no heed and continued on its way. She watched it, mouth slightly open, in awe of it’s beauty. The bunny was white, with a brown patch over one eye and it’s right ear. She suspected that some of the smaller spots were probably just dirt, but she was too far away to be sure.

She watched the bunny hop over next to the edge of the pond, and Aaliya reminded herself to bring some carrots with her. Maybe she would run into the rabbit again some other time.

On the other side of the pond, she thought she saw slight movement as well. Shading her eyes from the sun, she tried to make out what was causing the movement. Lo and behold! There was a turtle. Aaliya didn’t think she’d ever seen one in person before. Well, she’d seen one at the petting zoo, but she didn’t think that really counted.

She smiled and almost let out a squeal of excitement at seeing a turtle and a rabbit by her pond, but quickly reminded herself that she would scare away the animals by doing that.

From afar, her mother watched her, slightly anxious when she saw Aaliya get so still. Nervous, she looked around the woods for the predator that was scaring her daughter. Then, looking closer, she saw Aaliya’s smile and relaxed, trying to figure out what had captivated her daughter’s attention so.

The bunny hopped toward a boulder that jutted slightly over the water’s edge, and the turtle contemplated the world.

In her head, she turned their travels into a race. The turtle directly across from her had taken a liking to strolling the circumference of the pond. The rabbit wasn’t quite as deliberate – it hopped to and fro from one rock to another in search of tidbits of food it could eat. In her head, the two were facing off in a race of epic proportions.

She counted down from three in her head and fixated a point in the middle of her bunny and turtle. She wanted to see which one of them would reach there first. The turtle was already headed that way, slowly creeping along the grass, stopping occasionally to avoid the grass from scratching at his eyes. Aaliya had decided that they both were male. Whether that was true or not didn’t matter, but for the purpose of her pretend race, two guy animals racing each other was more fun to watch. So she watched the bunny hop quickly to and fro, never really making much headway, and she watched the turtle move slowly and slowly toward her finish line.

The rabbit had stopped moving now, just inches from the imaginary line. Then it retraced its path and Aaliya let out a puff of annoyance. She was secretly rooting for the rabbit – it moved so quickly that it would have reached her finish line in a matter of minutes. But it kept changing its mind and flitting every which way. Her rabbit would never win with the supreme lack of an attention span that she saw him with.

The turtle was only half a foot away now. It would be the winner soon.

Aaliya was incredulous. The rabbit was obviously faster, but this turtle – this animal who had no idea it was even racing a rabbit – was going to win. Her stubborn mind told her how unfair this was, and her lips curled into a slight pout.

Aaliya’s mother had taken out her camera after spotting the rabbit and the turtle who had stolen her daughter’s attention. She held the camera up, positioned it, and hesitated her finger against the button. The shutter waited to snap the priceless moment. Aaliya’s mother wasn’t quite sure why she was waiting, but the second she pushed the button, the turtle won the pond race.