Fahrenheit 451 pp. 154-165

1. Ask a question
What happens to Montag next? It doesn't really give any idea what Montag's plan of action is, it merely says he is heading towards the city.

2. Visit a couple other blogs from classmates and try to answer someone else’s question(s) and/or comment on their blog.
Did ya one better. Commented on Matt's Blog, as well as Mike C.'s

3. Answer one of the following sets of questions.

A. What does Granger mean when he says, quoting his grandfather, “Shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass”? Why is this quote important? How does it fit into the novel, what is Bradbury trying to say with this?

Granger's grandfather said to ask for no guarantees, ask for no security, for if there is no such animal. And if there ever was, it would be related to the great sloth. What he is trying to get at is that nothing is certain, nothing is absolute, and any ideas otherwise is self-delusion. This fits into the novel because it reflects the way people live. They are over-egotistical and believe nothing will ever happen to them, so they ignore the war being fought just overhead. They are deluded and blind to the world, so they sit fat and happy in their parlors while the rest of the world hates them. Then, at last, the tree is shaken by an atomic bomb, and all the lazy sloths fall from the tree and to their death in the most ironic of ways.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 126-137

1. Write one or more questions that you have. Don't just say "I don't get it." Ask a specific question about what is happening in the story.
The only question that comes to mind is rather trivial, but I shall say it anyway. At the beginning of the book, the way it describes the Hound's way of tracing things is that there is a touch sensor that'll scan the composition of the object it touches. Now, all of a sudden it can smell as well, and it seems to have a mind of it's own. It's become far more like a living being than it was in the beginning.


2. How has Montag changed from the beginning of the novel to this part? In writing about this you might want to notice that the environment has changed from the city to nature. Is this a coincidence or is the author trying to say something by contrasting the city to nature in relation to the ways Montag has changed.

In the beginning, Montag was a pyromaniac and, in some ways, an arsonist. His one pleasure was in destroying things. However, either out of curiosity or out of morality, he occasionally saved a book or two from the raging flames. As soon as he saw that woman who was willing to die with her books, however, something in his mind sparked. What is so important about these books that someone was willing to die, not to save them, but to die WITH them? Alas, what powers do these books hold, if that is the case? And thus, Montag began to delve into the mysteries of literature. At first, he could not understand, and to this day I have the sneaking suspicion that is still the case. But, with Faber's help, he was able to unravel the importance of the books, if not the meaning of the words within. So Montag began to fight for these books. He may not have understood them, but he did not need to to know what was right. As time passed, he found importance in something more than literature, as well. His fond memories of Clarisse made him begin to think of the world around him. How nobody had the time to stop and smell the flowers. How everybody was far too much in a hurry to stop, and learn to appreciate peace, quiet, and the beautiful night sky.

Speaking of which, there is another little dilemma on my mind. I wish not to speak of it, but I will tell you this much:

1) If anyone remembers my little rant on my mental vs. physical age here, this is very much like it. As a corollary, I was looking through my pictures of the 8th grade retreat, and I have noticed something: The reason I considered those days the 3 best of my life (despite being dreadfully sick 2/3rds of the time,) was because I finally saw the way I believed the world should be, reincarnated into a small patch of land.

Now, I'm beginning to see how disgusting the world is in contrast.

2) I've noticed a lot of irony in all the mishaps of my life. For example, my two biggest... Obsessions, for lack of a better word (Oh, it was a cruel or an ignorant mind that made the English language so large, yet so limited.) at the moment are The Lost World, and gambling my soul away on the casino in Gaia Online. (Phantom Brave is another obsession of mine, as well, but that does not count, as that obsession is rather engraved into my very personality ;))

The most current mishap today has truly brought new meaning to the theory of the "Gambler's Ruin." I assure you, though, this mishap has nothing to do with gambling.

3) I was browsing the VMK forums this weekend, and I noticed a thread asking everyone what they wanted their last words to be. As morbid of a subject it was, everyone made light of it. I did, as well, posting my favorite quote from an unknown author:

"I am a nobody, and nobody is perfect. Therefore, I am perfect."

That night, though, I began to actually think about it. I began to realize it was not a matter of what I wanted to say, but where I wanted to be. I concluded that, if I were to die, which I eventually shall, as all other humans, there would be no place better than atop a grassy hill with a beautiful view of the land, and an even more beautiful view of the crescent moon and the starry sky it swims in.

4) On a completely unrelated subject, my trusty but oh so obsolete 1.3 Megapixel camera, which I am so very accustomed to taking nature photos with, has shown exactly HOW obsolete it was today. As I was taking out the trash tonight, I noticed that there was an almost-full moon, and the cloud cover over it was thin enough so you can still see it, but thick enough where it amplified the moon's silver aura and gave it this mysterious feel, as if staring at it through a veil of mist.

Upon snapping my photo, it looked no different from my picture of the sun being turned red by a cloud of smoke. Although that picture was beautiful, I already have one. I really wanted to capture the moon. Instead I got the sun.

Alas. Photography is not the biggest hobby of mine, but I am beginning to waver on whether I should spend some money on a nice camera. The only downside is that that'd be adding another thing to the already miles-long list of things I am saving up for, and it'd be the most expensive so far. It would truly place me in a state of sheer financial error.

EDIT: Confound it, I am really out of order today. I almost forgot to place a title on this blog entry (>O_o)>

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 125-137

I really liked Montag's near-death experience with the crazy kids driving the beetle. I really liked the paranoid sense the author conveyed, where Montag began running, but soon broke under the strain and ran for his life. It was really descriptive, the way he conveyed Montag's thoughts, and how the car just kept on gaining on him. "two hundred, one hundred feet away, ninety, eighty..." I could really imagine the car speeding up on him while he's running for his life, spilling books everywhere.




In other news, 10 days until Etoile Rosenqueen's takeover of the NIS Store!

(Man, I wish Rosenqueen bought out HTH. That'd be cool. Go by the Netherworld's school curriculum instead of Earths, and learn things like Torture and lying. YAY.)

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 110-125

1. Summarize what happens in one or two sentences.
Montag has been caught harboring books within his house, and Beatty orders him to burn down his house. At first, Montag is hesitant, but then he sees Millie leaving him, and he goes into primal instinct mode. Once Montag is done burning everything he once owned, Beatty tries to arrest him, but Montag burns him as well, and becomes a fugitive on the run

2. On your blog, copy down one sentence from this reading selection that strikes you as particularly descriptive. Which of the 5 senses does it appeal to? What verbs, adjectives, or figurative language are used and why are they effective in describing a certain action, person, or thing?

"And then he was a shrieking blaze, a jumping, sprawling gibbering mannikin, no longer human or known, all writhing flame on the lawn as Montag shot one continuous pulse of liquid fire on him."

This appeals to sight, sound, and smell. I really thought that the mannequin metaphor conveyed a really haunting image. The idea of a man flopping along the lawn, covered in flame, no longer recognizable as a human... Eek. It's creepy.

Now that that's out of the way... If anyone reading this is good at spriting, please contact me at setokaiba800 at gmail dot com. I really need a spritist for the game I'm making, and Julian Grijalva is as lazy as always.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 91-110

Give a very short (1-3 sentence) summary of the two main scenes in this section. The first scence was at home in the living room and the second scene was in the fire house with Beatty.

Scene 1: The Living Room. Millie's friends have come over for a visit, and they begin talking with each other. The things Montag hears disgusts him, and he gets angered. He begins to read from a poetry book, hoping to either show them the error of their ways, or scare them off.

Scene 2: Captain Beatty. Captain Beatty begins playing mind games with Montag, trying to lower his self esteem and hint that he knows about Montag's books. The alarm rings, and Beatty acts friendly with Montag, trying to lure him over to their side. The scene ends with the alarm calling them to Montag's own house.

Analyze the use of language in the reading by analzying figurative language or descriptive verbs and adjectives.

If you chose figurative language, do the following:

1) What are your favorite metaphors or other examples of figurative language in this section?
Quote the passage and explain why you think the choice of words was particulary effective. Also, what images does the figurative language invoke? What physical senses? Is the figurative word or words appropriate to the thing being compared? Why or why not?

I think the best example of figurative language was the first half of Montag's poem.

"The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's
shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world."

I thought that it was rather clever, being both a metaphor and personification at once. Although it's just the concept of the masses losing faith, something that has no physical mass, he still made it apply to both sight and sound. It was also rather clever, how he compared the receding of faith to the changing tides of the ocean.

Whoo. Now that the assignment is out of the way, time for a bit of an update on how things are going.

First off: Me and Kit Haggard are having a little debate about technology, and if it's good or bad for society. All ye computer nerds, come hither and fight for what you believe in! Go look at her comment she left two blog entries ago, and comment back on her's. Let us make a platoon that'll make the TWIT army proud!

Second off: If there are any fans of Disgaea, Rhapsody, or any other NIS games, I suggest you subscribe to the NISA news letter. They just emailed out the best in-joke of all time. the NIS store is currently the subject of a corporate takeover by Etoile RosenQueen! Here's the email I got: HERE!

Descriptive Paragraph the Second- "The Other Side of the Coin"

Snap.

The sun cast an orange light over all the surroundings, as if someone had put orange plastic wrap over the sky.

Illy lowered his trusty 1.3 Megapixel camera, and looked at the results.

"Not half bad for a camera with less resolution than a cell phone. This one is definitely going up on deviantART."

As he sat atop the hill, he stared at the sunset, and thought.

"Alas, what irony." He let out a deep sigh. It sounded like the echo of a gust of wind, coming from a deep cave. If only they could see him now, not the blood-crazed monster they believed him to be, but a poor, old man, wishing for nothing more than peace, quiet, and the beautiful sunset sky.

From atop the hill, he could see all of Temecula. It was the next best thing to being in one of the city's famous hot air balloons. But it was not Temecula that caught his gaze. To him, it was nothing more than a once beautiful place turned concrete jungle. Yes, the stores were convenient, but by no means visually pleasing.

No, it was not the city that caught his gaze, but the mountains beyond, the stone sentries watching over him at night. From this distance, he could only see their silhouettes, but they were beautiful nonetheless. They almost seemed to be calling to him. Alas, if only he were to climb atop one of those mountains, what wonders might he be able to see? He felt that if he were to climb up in the morning, while dew was still wet on the grass, he may be able to see a sea of mist. Or, at night, he would be able to touch the azure sky, maybe even try to reach out for the shining, silver moon. Oh, the moon. It had rather... hypnotizing qualities. There it lay, shining in the sky. The light it radiated was soft, just barley bright enough to push away the dark, but nowhere near as intense as the blinding sun. The sun was like staring into a searchlight, not a good idea. The moon, on the other hand, was like staring at a candle. You can stare at it for hours until you've lost track of time. Of all the celestial bodies in the sky, he had a special attachment to the moon. So much attachment, that he even went out of his way to procure a Yu-Gi-Oh card named after the Japaneese God of the Moon, Tsukuyomi. (Of course, the card in itself had a lot of strategical value. But, that story is for another time.)

Aaaahhh... nature photography... what a strange hobby for a man like him to have. How did it begin, he wondered? He was never like this before, and yet... the idea was not alien to him either. It felt as if he's been doing it his entire life.

"I suppose, if one wants to be critical," he thought, "It could have started with that horrible fight I had with her. If you put it that way, I guess it was a matter of suggestionability. She was a very... urban kind of girl, for lack of better words, and I kept telling myself she and I were opposites. What is the opposite of the city? Nature, of course. Bloody hell, if that's how this whole thing started, I'm crazier than I thought!" For the umpteenth time in many days, he laughed at his insanity, the way a jackal laughs at the moon. "Ah, you can't blame me, though. I was young and ignorant." How else could it have began, he wondered? He looked around himself, the ocean of dead grass rippling to the wind, a beautiful but depressing sea of brown. Then another possibility came to him. Silent as a mime, his lips formed the words "8th grade retreat."

"Yes, that was it!" He told himself. "One day in heaven, two days in hell!" He laughed. Alas, if only he didn't suddenly develop an allergy to... what exactly was it that he was allergic to there? "No, that's besides the point." He called back his thoughts. His mind was like a little child. Leave it unattended long enough, and it began to wander away until it was completely lost. "Yes, that must have been how it began," he thought. He recalled that it started by taking pictures of... people's shoes... and then something happened. He went near the entrance to the camp, and saw the view. It was breathtaking. Throughout the rest of the trip, he began taking photos. Not of people, but his surroundings. Maybe that is where it began...

Before he knew it, the day grew old, and the night young. He got up, turned around, and began to walk towards his house so that he may retire to his couch.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 81-91

1. Write a question. What are you confused about?

What was going on with the "Denham's" alliteration? It was a bit too abstract for me to comprehend

AND

3. Answer one of the following questions:

B. Faber jokingly proposes a plan of action and then starts to discuss it seriously with Montag. What is the plan of action? More importantly, why does he say it won’t work? Analyze his answer. Why won't it work?

The plan of action was to hide books in the houses of firemen, and call the alarm on them, thus destroying the entire fireman system from the inside out. Faber believes this will not work because of the following reasons:

1) He believes it is far too risky, or, as he put it, "finding the highest cliff to jump off of"

2) Society needs books. They are "To remind us what asses and fools we are," and "The things [Montag is] looking for are in the world, but the only way the average chap will see nintey-nine per cent of them is in a book."

3) They can't trust people to do the dirty work. On top of that, the only fellow proffesors he knows of that he can trust are either dead or ancient

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 69-80

1. Write a question about the reading. What are you confused about? If you don't get an answer on your blog, be sure to raise the question in class. Even if you do get an answer, and you think it's a good question with a good answer, bring it up in discussion.

I was wondering... The book makes it sound like he only recently obtained a conscience about books, and yet it also makes it sound as if he's been collecting them for years. Isn't that a bit contradictory?

B. How will books get us out of "the cave?" What is the cave and how will books get us out of it?

Before we start, allow me to briefly explain the Allegory of the Cave, (or Plato's Cave, as some know it as), for I shall be making quite a few references to it. (The following is paraphrased from Wikipedia. I love the Allegory of the Cave, but not to the point where I have the entire thing memorized. Yet.)

Imagine that there are several prisoners who have been chained to a chair within a deep cave since childhood. They cannot move, and their heads are chained in such a way that they must continually stare at the wall of the cave.

Now, picture, if you will, that there is a large fire behind the prisoners, and between the flames and the prisoners is a raised walkway. Along this walkway, the shapes of various animals, plants, and other objects are carried. These objects cast a shadow upon the only wall the prisoners can see, much in the same manner as a puppet show. The cave is also acoustically designed in such a way that, when one of the shape carriers speak, the sound echoes in a manner that would make it appear that it is the shadow who is speaking, and not the shadow maker.

The prisoners begin to engage in a game where they see who can name the shapes the fastest. This, being the only reality they know, is how they judge the quality of one another. Those who can name shapes the fastest are praised, and those who do poorly are shunned.

Now, suppose one, just one prisoner is freed from his chains. He, of course, will want to stand up and turn around, and see the world that he has never gotten the chance to see before.

The light of the fire will blind his eyes, and the objects passing before the shadows will seem less than real to him.

Now, assume that he wanders out of the cave. At first, the sun shall completely blind him. As his eyes adjust, he begins to see brighter and brighter things, starting with the shadows he is accustomed to, then eventually climbing all the way to the sun.

The sun, he'll realize, is the object that causes the seasons of the year, presides over all things in the visual reason, and is, in some ways, the cause of everything he sees.

Once "enlightened," the freed man would want to return to the prisoners in order to tell them all he has seen, and possibly even free them so they may see for themselves. However, the prisoners do not wish to be freed. They have spent their entire life in front of these shadows and have adopted it as their own reality. Now, for a time, this freed man would be one of the ones identifying shapes upon the wall. Having been out in the light for a long time, his eyes would once again have to adjust, this time to the darkness. Hence, he will not be able to recognize the shapes as well, making it seem as if his trip to the surface ruined his eyesight.


Not as brief of an explanation as I would have liked, but I hope you got the point. But now, you may ask "Okay, that's some pretty trippy stuff you got there, but what does it have to do with Fahrenheit 451?"

My answer: Everything.

Now, let us assume something else, for a change. The year is sometime in the 1990s, in the strange, alternate world described in Fahrenheit 451. Technology may have advanced, but everything else remains the same. People have upgraded from cold, dim caves to the artificial warmth and false security of "The Parlor." Electricity has removed the need for flames and shadow puppets, instead substituting the 3 and/or 4 wall television. And, of course, the prisoners are no longer shackled to their chairs by steel and iron, but by their own will. No longer are the heads of the prisoners kept staring at the wall by chains, but by some crazy human emotion called "interest."

The game also remains in place, although the rules have changed. Instead of being an observer, merely naming the shapes as they pass by, now men and women have set scripts, and feign interaction with these shadows, these beings that do not truly exist. Those who's interaction seems the most real are praised, and those who question the system, those who say "Why, those are not but shadows upon the wall! They are not real people!" are shunned.

Now, what if someone gets a hold of a book, and reads about the Allegory of the Cave? What if he realizes "Dear lord, that sounds not unlike how the world is today! They feed us nothing but illusions, and expect us to be happy!" Then the book serves as the key to unshackle oneself, to release himself from the cave of circuits and false joy, and see the sun and the man in the moon.

Once "enlightened," the freed man would want to return to the prisoners in order to tell them all he has seen, and possibly even free them so they may see for themselves. However, the prisoners do not wish to be freed. They have spent their entire life in front of these shadows and have adopted it as their own reality. Now, the freed man will cry "But, there is a whole other world out there, one where we do not have to feign our happiness out of ignorance! Reject this reality, and substitute it with my own! Our own!"

The man is promptly branded as an anarchist, and burnt at the stake with all his precious books.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 40-68

Captain Beatty tells Montag that firemen are the “happiness boys” and that they are custodians of “our piece of mind.” Why does he say this? Be sure to include the problem with minority opinions, individual thought, and the historical conditions that made this possible. Use quotations and other evidence from the text in your response

He claims that the firemen are helping make civilization a better place because books "Didn't come from the Government down. There was no dictum, no declaration, no censorship, to start with, no!" He believes that "The books say nothing! Nothing you can teach or believe. They're about nonexistent people, figments of imagination, if they're fiction. And if they're nonfiction, it's worse, one professor calling another an idiot, one philosopher screaming down another's gullet. All of them running about, putting out the stars and extinguishing the sun. You come away lost."

Of course, the firemen also solve the problem of keeping all the minorities happy. "Colored people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book about tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag."

And yet... didn't firemen used to put out fires instead of starting them? "Ah, what more easily explained and natural? With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginative creators, the world 'intellectual,' of course, became the swear word it deserved to be. You always dread the unfamiliar. surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made free and equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to judge themselves against. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man's mind. Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? Me? I won't stomach them for a minute. And so when houses were finally fireproofed completely, all over the world there was no longer need of firemen for the old purposes. They were given the new job, as custodians of our peace of mind, the focus of our understandable and rightful dread of being inferior: official censors, judges, and executors."

"Well, I must be going. Lecture's over."

Descriptive Paragraph- "The woes of a developer"

"Dear God, I hope someone answers."

He ever so carefully slid his finger across the skating rink of heat sensors and circutry, and the big white hand in the sky hovered over "Submit."

Click.

His heart thumped. Because of Neelpos, time had run out months ago, and tension was high. He felt slightly guilty, doing something like this behind his friend's back. But, alas, Neelpos was a lazy sloth. And to Illy, this was more than just a game. It was redemption.

"Redemption. Ha!" He laughed at his insanity the way a jackal laughs at the moon. "Truly, I am going mad. But, alas, there is always a bit of reason in madness."

Having sent his plea for help, his distress call, his SOS, his heart eased just a little more. Tomorrow, he'd have to find a way to check if someone answered it. Alas, why must the school's proxy always interfere with the most noble of causes? 'Twas like a troll guarding a bridge.

But even then, solving the dillema at hand was only the immediate goal. The longterm goal was a gamble with all the cards stacked against him, and only one chip to play. The very thought nagged at the back of his mind, pulling and tugging at the pink, fleshy mass. The beast was especially hungry today, as well.

First, he'd have to test the waters. If people were disinterested, it would be washed away in the tides. In that case, he'd have to spread it like a virus, posting it up on a few different forums and recieve feedback from there, and ask that they share it with their friends if they approved.

But on the other hand, if people approved, it would not be washed away, but float upon the stormy seas, above the shattered dreams it could have joined.

After that, the true challenge begins. Then, he'd have to chronicle the rest of Flaeseeker's journey. From there... from there...


"No, not wise to plan that far ahead quite yet. I still must concentrate on the task at hand."

EDIT: 3-5 descriptive words: Thumped, tension, plea. I think these 3 really helped me convey the sense of nervousness, the idea that time had ran out.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 21-40

Ask a question: What do you find confusing? What is something you don’t understand?

I was confused about what was going on in the scene where books kept falling into Montag's hands

Write about one of the following topics (at least a “solid paragraph” – minimum of 8 sentences)

2) How are the people in the novel – both children and adults - similar and/or different from people today?

The children in the novel (with the exception of Clarisse) are rather violent, described as people who "kill each other." In the two examples Clarisse gives, they are said to shoot each other with guns, and to kill each other through car wrecks. Allow me to blame the car wrecks on acts of stupidity, which are strangely common in most children these days, and focus on the shootings.

Now, it is a very few amount of kids who sneak guns into school, and possibly (although this is not but idle speculation) even less actually shoot them, as opposed to having second (and smarter) thoughts. But, regardless of if a bullet is fired or not, it still takes a very violent mind to even think of bringing a gun to school. However, plenty of children these days never needed to bring a gun to school to prove they are violent. In the media, all you see in movies are shootouts, explosions, and swordfights. Even comedy movies are filled with nothing but slapstick and "dirty jokes." On TV, it's much of the same. If it's not SNL or a show about cars, celebrities, or the like, then it's an anime show filled with blood, gore, cursing, and more blood. Even the most innocent shows like "Pokemon" have a few episodes that were forbidden in America because they contained excessive violence.

Then of course, there is video games. Sadly, a successful video game that contains no violence is the greatest of rarities in modern times. The biggest selling games in the world are all blood and gore fests, people of all ages who have never met each other and probably never will again, being shoved onto one battlefield to spray their sub-machine guns at each other for one oddly disturbing purpose: Fun. Of course, it's just a game, right? These kids can still sleep peacefully in their beds without the guilt of killing someone hanging over their heads, right? For most, that is true. But, children are very suggestible. Give one kid who can't think for himself one copy of Halo 2, and the next morning he'll come to school with a revolver to see how many head shots he can get, and if it's better than a battle rifle or not.

Thankfully, there are quite a few kids out there who are probably smarter than adults, much like how Clarisse is in the novel. Although children are often thought of as ignorant, there is something in them that changes that ignorance into brilliance, something that strangely goes missing when one becomes an adult. When you are a child, your intelligence lies not in petty facts, memorizing procedures, and plotting out business plans, but in... comforting people, for lack of better words. Tell a child a problem in your life that's constantly nagging at the back of your mind, and he will give you a very predictable, child-like answer. And yet, merely by the way he will word it, it'll have a very different, much more impacting meaning. Allow me to share an anecdote that occurred to me this morning.

As you all know, yesterday's blog I went and wrote a little rant about how I'm growing old without being old to vent out a little steam. As you all probably don't know, I also posted the same on several forums, and asked for a bit of advice to quell the disquiet in my mind. One forum was mostly populated with teens my age, and I got a short, impersonal answer. One forums was insanely busy, with people posting constantly regardless of time of day. I only got one answer that was somewhat helpful, and it too was rather short and not as thought out as desired.

Then the last forum, oh what a surprise I did find. The last forum was a forum populated with fans of a Disney game called VMK, a sort of virtual Disneyland. Due to that, I am one of the older players on there (although by no means the oldest). This morning, I checked my little rant there for any responses. I only found two, but they were extremely effective. They hit each and every little point I made in my rant, and provided an answer that was strangely calming. In effect, all they really said was to have fun a bit more, and shared a few, rather silly anecdotes with me. And yet, there was something about it that was far more effective than any psychologist could have said. I assume that part of it is just the way they went about it. There was no extreme thought, filled with allegories and relations to the outside world. It was a very casual, very calm sort of post. I assume the other part is that a child could not only relate to my problem, but take the time to read that huge paragraph I wrote, and then help me with my woes, as opposed to just skipping over it or writing some nonsensical, only half related post like that second forum did.


Aaah, ahh, but today's reading response does not end there! I still have adults to write about!

Adults these days, they're very one-dimensional. They have to have a routine to everything. As Murphy's laws dictates: "Air goes in and out, and blood goes round and round. Any variation of this is bad." And, much like Murphy's laws dictates, adults become extremely flustered when something alters or hinders their routine's progress. Even in the book, it claims that people are always in such a rush that they had to stretch out the billboards so people could see them. Maybe that's what makes kids so much smarter than adults. Their minds aren't on rails. They can think outside the box. They can be different. They have time to stop, smell the roses, and maybe even take one home with them. Kids think about anything and everything, even without provocation. Is this what goes missing that turns thoughtful children into mindless drones? The feeling that you have all the time in the world, and all the world to roam?

Hmm... strange thought indeed.





Now that that's out of the way, a little update on that rant yesterday:
I'm feeling a bit better now, as hinted upon in the assignment, although at lunch today I learned the hard way that fate has a cruel, cruel sense of irony. I will go no further into the details. For that, you may ask Julian Grijalva, Danielle Smotrich, and Cameron Parvini.

Fahrenheit 451 pp. 3-21

Do the following:

1) Ask a question that you have about what's going on in the novel. What do you find confusing?

I'm not quite sure what was going on in the bedroom with Guy and Mildred. A bit too abstract for me. Looking at other people's blogs, though, it seems I'm not alone

Answer the following question:

1) Even before Montag and his wife Mildred talk to one another we know that they are alienated (distant) from one another. How does the author convey this?

One example is at the bottom of page 18, when Guy is trying to explain what happened last night, but Mildred continuously interrupts with "I'm Hungry." Another example is when He enters his bedroom, and makes the connection to a masoleum, with his wife as a body atop the tomb. Clearly, if he truly loved her, he wouldn't have such negative thoughts about her.


And now, a little venting. I don't remember Mr. Jana saying this blog was strictly for academic purposes. But if you disapprove, Mr. Jana, just order the cease-and-desist and I shall obey.


Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

^Some lyrics from "Carry on My Wayward Son" by Kansas.
Don't really know the band, but it was in Guitar Hero
II. Thought the song fits with the upcoming madness
I'm about to type ;)

Alas, 'tis a burden, being the eldest of three boys. I
don't often ask for much. Just a few books, the
beautiful night sky, and an hour or two on RPG maker.
I regret much of my childhood. I was far too attatched
with material possessions, now everyone believes my
entire life revolves around playing video games, when
in fact it is just a means of entertainment I use when
all others are exhausted. Even when I'm making them,
I try to break the norm. I try to steer away from the
blood and gore fests. In fact, if I may insert a small
plug here, my current project, Eternity's End, is in fact
something of a love story between a princess and a monster
hunter who, ironically, disapproves of violence. But I
digress. I ask for just a bit of quiet time, where I may
read and write and think, but never does it happen. I
keep my expectations low and my hopes small so I should
never be disappointed, and yet I'm still constantly
disappointed. My friends oft wonder why I always act like
an old man when I'm only a few months older than they.
It's because I am. At this point, all my youth has been
long since exhausted. The only thing that keeps me under
the classification of a child is my age.

Alas, maybe I am but a simple man in a complex world, a
peaceful soul thrusted into a busy metropolis.

Yay

So, this is my humanities Blog. 'Tis a blog that shall be used to share my works and whatnot, I presume.





And for an unnecessary plug, check out my real blog at illidan-stormrage.deviantart.com , and my googlepages at setokaiba800.googlepages.com . Also, check out the video game I'm in the process of making at eternitysendthegame.googlepages.com