The "rite" way to believe

It is common knowledge that I am a lover of history, but more specifically, I am intrigued with American history and our Founding Fathers. What I find most fascinating is the misconception of Christianity in our countries founding. Many people are disillusioned with believing that the country was created on the basis of Christianity, but few know the Father's were, in fact, not Christians. Some believed in a God, but not the Calvinistic God of biblical lore. In studying and analyzing their beliefs, it has led me to further scrutinize my own. I cannot fathom saying there is absolutely no God after spending 26 years of Christianity being force-fed to me; it just seems absurd. I have always known there were other belief systems, but have been led to believe that all other religions were wrong and were going to Hell for disagreeing with the Christian Bible. But are they? Is Christianity the right and only way to find perpetual peace?

 I remember as a child always having questions about my faith, but feeling wrong for questioning the word of God. I felt I would be punished for even thinking for a second that something in the story line was incorrect or just did not add up. As an adult, I still have those same lingering questions, but I know now it is my right and duty to seek answers. I still firmly believe the Christian Bible is a sacred religious text, but I also believe its not wholly true. The Bible was written by man, not God, and therefore is subject to human error and misconceptions. The King James Version is proof enough that every new issue of the Bible is changed to suit the needs of the person in power. So how does one find the truth in the story? This is my quest. I must find answers to my questions, and hopefully along the way I can find my faith.

Poem

The wavering moon

Reaches to ruin the throat.

Clouds bruise the hot

Surprise of sharp.

Important things swing

Eyes through the red.

Tough soft blue ruins all

Desire to cut the mud.

A burning frog

To change all directions.

A tiny surprise hot

Curves important bites.

My review of 1102

How does one review an English class? That is quite a question! As with last year in 1101, I have thoroughly enjoyed English 1102, I am actually sad to see it end. As a whole, our class has had wonderful discussions-while not always sticking to the academic rubric, they are still quite enlightening! For 90 minutes twice a week, self-expression has been the name of the game-is that not what literature is supposed to be? I have learned quite a lot, I have found what I cannot get enough of literary wise, and I am in love with it! I am enamored with the fact that within each piece of literature, multiple analyses can be drawn; there is no wrong answer.

Through my many essays, I have learned that spell-check can be wrong, and do not trust any citation help center! I have realized that exclamation points are not required for every other sentence, and everything cannot and should not be a question.

I will miss the diversity of opinions and many backgrounds supplied by the few but yet sufficient peers of my class. They have managed to supply me with many hours of personal deliberation on my standpoint of multiple issues. I have a great respect for this particular group of individuals, and I hope that they move on to have bright and successful careers.

I cannot begin to express how wonderful I think Ms.Lindberg is. She is a magical woman, especially in the world of literature. I am grateful to have an instructor that is so enthusiastic about writing; it has instilled a desire within myself to read everything I can get my grubby little hands on! I know wholeheartedly I am a better writer because of her. Not long ago, I read my first college essay and compared it to my most recent; I was amazed with myself. I can truly say I learned something in English. Thank you for that!

Home

It’s been a long road;

The roads, they wind and bend.

I know where I’m going,

But somehow can’t reach the end.

I see the woods changing,

They rise with every fall.

I must continue going,

So strange… like a distant call.

There is a storm a’brewing,

I can feel it in my bones.

As only nature can,

The winds a’singin’ as it moans.

The kids… they’ll be so frightened,

But feel the pain they must.

I’m consumed with the need to go

With every painful gust.

My stop is growing closer,

I can see it crystal clear.

My home is oh so close now,

I feel excitement and such fear.

With one last breath I’ll be there,

And the pain will disappear.

I see I’m going home now,

So please, don’t shed a tear.

Hypocrisy in my home

My husband is the biggest hypocrite known to mankind. As a parent, you are supposed to lead by example. It seems my husband has the opposite theory. Apparently it is best for him to do the things he tells the children should not be done. Of course, while he is doing it, everything is okay.

A few days ago, he instructed my son for the 1,000^th time that he should not play video games, as they are “no good.” He immediately takes the controller from him, and inserts his own game, and proceeds to spend 5 hours playing the stupid video game that he scolded the child for playing. What in the world is he thinking?! To me, what is good for the goose is good for the gander. If my husband can play for hours, then my son should be allowed to do the same thing. Fair is fair, and I do not care if he is an adult or not. You cannot instruct without example. It is the equivalent of telling a child not to take drugs because they are bad, but the person is telling the child as he or she is consuming drugs! Or explaining to a kid why he or she should eat healthy as you are steadily consuming numerous candy bars. Sense is sense. 

Sometimes I feel that my son would do a better job of leading my husband than what he is doing at leading my son. Jamie (my husband) is constantly telling my son (Tyler) that he needs to pay attention more. Well, Tyler constantly sees Jamie not listening to a word that comes out of my mouth. How is that going to teach him to listen or to be more responsible? That’s just it-It’s not. Hypocrisy frustrates me to death- especially when I have to deal with it almost daily.

Sunday

Ahh, it is Sunday again. The day I spend all day doing the homework that I have successfully hidden from myself since Thursday afternoon. The day I kick myself in the butt for yet again forgetting that I have 24 hours worth of assignments to do in less than 12 hours. Sunday and I normally have a very special agreement. But on this Sunday, I am going to attempt to get my work done even faster, as today is just entirely too beautiful to spend inside! The gorgeous weather has definitely been a problem for me the past few days. I just want to work in the yard, spend hours upon hours perusing the many isles at Home Depot and Lowe's, and sit on my front porch and listen to the chirp of the birds as they eat the freshly laid grass seed out of my front lawn. For the sake of my school work, I must pretend it is raining cats and dogs and that a blizzard of magnificent proportions is headed this direction. I am trying to tune out the sunshine shining through the many windows surrounding my heavily burdened computer desk, begging for me to just take a quick peek through the closed blinds. It beckons for me to take that one single glance. But I know, with that one glimpse, I will be sucked in until long after night fall. Until the lightning bugs of late afternoon retire. Until I can no longer smell the fresh cut grass of my neighbor’s lawn. But then, who would want to miss the bats flying after those pesky mosquitoes, or the “woot woot” of the owl in the distant tree awaiting the appearance of his next meal to come out in the still dark. Maybe, for the sake of my homework, I should relocate my whole desk to my front yard, printer and all! Apparently, Sunday and I will not agree today; we just cannot agree!

I found this quote to be rather fitting for our class topics as of late.

"The American Dream has run out of gas. The car has stopped. It no longer supplies the world with its images, its dreams, its fantasies. No more. It's over. It supplies the world with its nightmares now: the Kennedy assassination, Watergate, Vietnam."

James Graham Ballard - 1983

Fences

Troy Maxson, the main character of Fences written by August Wilson, could be perceived to be racist, but I do not believe that he is. I feel he uses the words “nigger” and “cracker” very loosely. During his era, it was not an obscene word or phrase. He never speaks harshly about either race, really, but uses a matter of fact tone. He tells of being more concerned with whether or not the person is being good and fair to you, and not the color of their skin. He tells his son, Cory, to not worry about whether someone likes you, but make sure they are “doing right by you.” He never tries to teach his children to be against any particular color of person, but tries to instill in them an ethic to work hard, and not look for people to hand them anything in life. He looks for equality in races, and believes there should be no difference between people based solely upon race. He speaks seldom about sports, and in particular how he played baseball, and should have made it to the major leagues. During Act I, there is a discussion between Troy, Bono, and Rose that I found inspiring. While conversing about what Troy “could have been”, Bono made the statement that “Times have changed…You just came around too early.” Troy responded that it should not matter what color you are, if you are a good ball player then you should be able to play ball. I wholeheartedly believe in that statement.  I can appreciate how Wilson portrays the ugliness of the times without being rude and harsh. He did a magnificent job of telling the truth, and not truly making someone racist against one another. The play gives the reader an opportunity to truly see the truth of the situation for the black community during the 1950’s era and earlier.