"Flesh Architecture"

Spencer Tunick is what some might call a "flesh architect."  Tunick uses the classic nude model and raises the bar, not just one subject, several nude subjects.  I pulled this article from Slate.com mostly because everything on the NYT website was excruciatingly boring, when did the Arts section turn into a textbook? I chose this article because the subject [Tunick and his work] Were interesting and what's even more interesting is how little attention is being paid to his work, when on the Times page they have the longest article over an an exhibition that couldn't be less important.  Mr. Tunick has had a few HBO specials made about his work, he travels the world organizing mass nude shots.  In Mexico City he had his biggest installation; 18,000 nude men and women all arranged in the fetal position.  It doesn't even look like humans, it looks like the scales of a tan fish or something.  He has a few others that despite sounding novel are quite moving, such as a piece with naked humans on a glacier in Switzerland, to call attention to global warming.  Wierd to think that the only way to get human's attention are photos of other naked humans.  The final piece that I found to be so interesting but was rather disappointed that google image retreived no results for it, he did a piece for POZ magazine in which he took a photograph of 85 HIV positive men and women in a Manhattan restaurant for World AIDS Day 2004.  Its rich with symbolism and extremely in-your-face.  I think if more people didn't write off work like this we'd have more meaningful and envelope pushing art in our galleries today.  Humans rely on shock value and an article over secular mexican wood carvings is neither shocking nor interesting whatsoever, thanks NYT.  

The Beat Goes On

I read an article in NY Times, New Orleans Rising, by Hammer and Art. The thing about this article that captured my attention was the soul of the art. The painter, Mark Bradford, built a three-story ark in a part of the Lower Ninth Ward that had some of the worst flooding after the hurricane. It is there to create a new beginning for New Orleans; even after devastating losses, the spirit will rise. Artists are trying to show and boost peoples’ morals with their creativity. The art represents the wounded city but as a fighter that got stronger through all that has happened. I believe that although this gift by the painter is for the people of New Orleans, it is for all the mankind. The fight goes on and I think that’s the message to everybody who is going through a hard time, anyone that will or that has experienced that feeling. This is not the only piece of art that is representing and helping the wounded New Orleans rise again, the roster of 81 artists are building new houses. This is all a part of an ambitious new art biennial that has opened Saturday and will continue through Jan. 18. It is said that it is the largest exhibition of contemporary art ever held on American soil; intended to restore the cultural vibrancy of a city after Hurricane Katrina. 

Vandalism or Art

The Mind Museum

The Mind Museum is located in an ex-mental illness facility in Rome, Italy. It is a very interactive, hands on museum designed to teach people about mental illnesses. The curator of the museum Dr. Pompeo Martelli, who was previously a psychologist, created this hands on type of museum to really show that mental illnesses are actually diseases without getting into any of the politics. The digitally oriented museum is mainly focused on educating students in middle to high school. Dr. Martelli strongly believes that to truly teach today’s generation about mental illnesses (or anything for that matter) the old pamphlets and books will not cut it, today’s generation is on a different “wavelength” which prescribes different teaching methods. It uses many of the senses to show the little niches of being crazy. In one room the viewer is put in a chair and they watch pictures of former patients and they listen to recordings of the patients recall their lives stories. In a different room the viewer is put in a room and told to cover their ears and listen for the voices and the songs. This all in attempt to get the museum guests to feel what the patients felt and lived with. Although the museum is very technologically based, it does have a few pieces of “Traditional art”, including one installation, which is essentially the saying “Up close no one is normal.” The logo of the museum is an upside down funnel. This image was chosen from a 15th century painting in which a man is wearing an upside down funnel while he is using a scalpel to remove something from a patient. This painting is the first piece of art to show any signs of madness. I personally would love to visit it, if I spoke Italian.

Babylon - Myth and Reality

The article I looked over was about the upcoming exhibit surrounding the ancient city of Babylon at the British Museum (Babylon: Myth and Reality) opening in November. The author of the article focuses mainly on the fact that many of the pieces’ interpretation of what the city of Babylon actually stood for – the lust and over-indulgence of human society. Many of the images that the author speaks about focus mainly on the mythical Tower of Babel, the ancient structure and the story surrounding it hold many meanings to human nature in general. The author of the piece goes on to mention that the focus of the gallery according to its director was to gain the audience of the many Iraqi’s living in Great Britain through to celebrating the ancient history of modern Iraq. The author tries to explain the history of Babylon, as well, as it relates to the taking over of Palestine (modern Israel) by Nebuchadnezzar (the king of Babylon) yet I feel that an uninformed reader of his piece would not really grasp the subject material from his brief notes.

The detail of the venue is very clear, the date, the time and location of the show are all clearly represented in the article, and it seems he did quite a bit of research of the subject matter and had a detailed interview with the team that put together the exhibit. However, I don’t feel he was able to present the extensive history of the subject matter until the end of the article, where if I had no previous knowledge of the subject matter would have passed over his piece after the second paragraph. Babylon’s rich history and mystery can only really be seen in ancient stories from the art and works in the museum themselves and not from his piece. Still, the author gave me the urge to want to travel to England to see this exhibit.

Art or Not

The article I choose was from www.slate.com.  The photograph is Dubrow's Cafeteria by Marcia Bricker Halperin, 1979.  This article mainly focuses on whether or not people consider this photograph art.  Out of an experiment for the Brooklyn Museum it was the top choice of art from over 3,000 people.  The audience for this piece would most likely be for adults because children may be confused.  The photograph was shot from the street in front of the cafeteria.

The photograph is very interesting because it looks like multiple pictures have been fit into one photograph.  The view is the front window of the Dubrow's Cafeteria, but the reflection of the cars and street are shown.  An old woman sits at a table by herself looking out into the street.  Behind her are other people in the restaurant sitting at tables and eating.  Sometimes it is hard to distinguish in the photograph if people are on the outside of the restaurant or in the inside.  This photograph almost plays mind tricks because all the images are crammed together.  

The author analyzes the work by describing in detail the piece. It is stated by the author that the photograph is a "beguilingly complex image".  The author later goes on to talk about how people viewed the photograph and how it was popular among a survey.  The work is not compared to other photographs or other pieces done by Halperin.  Research that was needed to analyze the photograph was that is was taken on King's Highway in Brooklyn, New York.

Art Not For Sale

The article was about a Picasso Cubist painting called “Arlequin” which had been withdrawn from the auction at Sotheby’s Impressionist and Modern art sale. The audience the author is targeting is for people who have an interest in art. She uses vocabulary that people who know about art would understand. At the end of the article she writes; with a palette of jade, rose and amber, “Arlequin” is a prime example of Picasso’s Analytic Cubist phase. People who already have a good concept of art understand these colors and the famous type of art Picasso did. When I first read it, I was lost because I don’t have a full background in art. Also, a person really has to be interested in art to read the article she wrote. That’s exactly why this article wasn’t written in the news section. On another note, the author doesn’t go much into describing the art itself. The most descriptive section is where she states; the painting depicts a harlequin resting his chin on one hand. Her main focus of the article is why the piece has been withdrawn from the auction. The author also goes into how the art came to be. A man, who just recently died at age 99, bought the piece in the late 1940’s. The author, Carol Vogel, definitely had to do some research just to find out the price of the art. She let her audience know that it was worth $12,000 in the late 1940’s, and is now estimated at more than $30 million. People who like art will like this article.

War Vets

I read an art review of Nina Berman’s “Purple Hearts: Back From Iraq,” in the New York Times written by Holland Cotter. The disturbing portraits are of disabled veterans that have returned back to America after being in the Iraqi War. The audience of the art review can be anyone ranging from war supporters to war protesters. Cotter does however, try to sway the audience against the war by speaking highly of Nina Berman’s photographs. The article is easy to read and Cotter is very informative. Cotter uses the names of the people that were photographed to speak about the images and also writes about their thoughts on the war. Cotter does not compare the work to any other artist, because Nina Berman was the first of her kind. “She has said in interviews that she started photographing disabled veterans soon after the war began mainly because she didn’t see anyone else doing so.” Cotter speaks mainly about the people photographed in the artwork rather than the details of the artwork itself. The venue is mentioned, but once again, no details are given. I believe that the research that the author did was look at the pieces of art, interview the photographed people, and read about Nina Berman.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/22/arts/design/22berm.html?scp=6&sq=art%20review&st=cse

Blog Post #8: Art Review Review

Here are some newspapers and links to their Art sections. I want you to find a review of a gallery or piece of art in one of these papers. Then I would like for you to analyze the piece looking once again for clues to voice and audience. I would also like for you to look at methods the author uses in analyzing the work. Do they compare the work with older work by the artist or work by his or her peers? How much detail do they give of the work, of the venue? What kind of research did they need to do? 250 words.

NY Times
Chicago Tribune
Seattle Times
Slate.com
Times Online

Due next Monday. Remember to comment on someone's post.

The Matrix

The Matrix trilogy is the best piece of art, that I can think of right now, that I have ever seen. Its visuals are completely original and spectacular, while its story, although not so original, is entirely captivating. The Matrix has sparked many ideas and conversations between people and has managed to create a strong community behind it.
The narrative of Neo is not very original, it’s a little bit like the story of Christ mixed with a love story, and the idea of humans being run by machines has been around for a while, but the way that these ideas are shaped and their little details are what make it original. On the topic of a world run by machines, the originality come in the facts that the machines actually need humans and that the machines created a fake world for the humans instead of just plain slavery.
The visuals are really what sell the movie. The Wochowskis created some visual elements that were so original and amazing that they can never be used by anyone else without being scrutinized for copying. The 2 most memorable elements are the 360 camera angles that spin while there is action and the creation of Bullet Time. Aside from the ground breaking camera use, the digitally created elements were so ahead of its time that I believe they are almost timeless.
I have seen the trilogy probably 15+ times and the first matrix 25+ times, yea I know I am lame, and if you have not seen it/ won’t give it the time of day, watch it!

A Sinister Love Story

When most people think of Emily Bronte's ornately written first and only novel they groan as it was something they were mandated to read in high school.  I think if people really took the time and effort to sit down and read this brilliant victorian/romantic age piece they would really appreciate it.  The language Ms. Bronte uses is so absolutely fluid and poetic.  She takes words and spins them together taking most ordinary word stems for their literal meanings.  

Virginia Woolf would say about this novel, "It is as if Emily Bronte could tear up all that we know human beings by and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality." This is very much the case in this novel.  It's the most unrealistic love story I've ever read but at the same time it's the most honest.  To me it is as if the main characters have no sense of right or wrong and can only act apon their feelings at the time.  Cathy a spoiled brat and Heathcliff a brooding gypsy son with a need to avenge his mistreatment.  This novel has everything, it has love, suspense, ghosts, and history.  It's like Jane Austen only much darker.  

Structurally, Ms Bronte is a genius.  This book is absolutely genius when I think about how she set it up.  It's a story told within a story.  We get the entire story from 20 years after the action of it, through the eyes of the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange, and then from his eyes we get the story of Cathy and Heathcliff from the servant Nelly.  The story makes a complete arc from the present to the past and back again to the present.  Bronte also is a genius with characterization.  These characters are so very vivid that you will never forget selfish Cathy, brooding Heathcliff, evil Hindley, dashing but tragic Mr. Linton and his equally as tragic sister Isobella.  There is such a feeling I get when reading this novel.  The final scene of the novel always gives me the chills and its rare that we get such strong emotions from a book especially one we've read more than once.  

 Ms. Bronte is a true artist and unfortunately never lived to see her genius get the praise it deserved as it was published under another name and she died shortly after it's publication.  She truly knew the land about which she wrote.  She lived on the Yorkshire Moors and this novel verges toward paganism.  I say this because it is almost as if the secluded English moors on which this story is set is almost a character of its own and so much of the story is effected by nature.  Emily Bronte truly loved the land she lived on and it's evident as well as crucial in setting this story, without that sort of utter seclusion the characters would seem even more over the top.  When you read this novel you will feel the cool misty greyness of the wild English moors and make you wish you were riding horseback over the endless rolling hills. You will never forget reading Wuthering Heights and it is unfortunate that it has become so underated in a society that enjoys books like Nicholas Sparks and Danielle Steel.  This is the ultimate love story for the ages, but also the most honest and at times supernatural.  A must read for anyone who enjoys the work of Ms Jane Austen. 

"Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves."- Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, 1847

Music for Eighteen Musicians

This is an hour long, ground breaking piece in composition and production recorded in 1976. It is a piece by the minimalist composer Steve Reich. "Music" is a piece that contains an eleven chord cycle and each chord consists of its own kind of song. The music flows from one chord to the next in a floating sort of fashion. Reich took everything into account, even writing breaths into the music so that the piece has yet another contribution to the rhythm of the song. Reich wrote it so that listening to it puts one in a trance, and one will begin to hear other music coming from the piece that isn't actually being played. It is an effect called psycho-acoustics. It is where your mind is trying to make sense of what you are hearing so sometimes it fills in the gaps. It has the feel of modern electonic music even though it was written and recorded around forty years ago. The instruments included in the piece are a violin, a cello, four female voices, four pianos, five marimbas, vibraphone, xylophone, and two bass clairnets.

There are so many things about this piece that I admire. One aspect of it is that it is an amazing piece of composition, with there being eighteen different musicians playing in moving harmonies. "Music" contains another effect called phasing, where some musicians will consistently fall right behind the beat to give the piece more depth. This is an amazing concept for me, because sometimes I have trouble keeping things together even when I am playing in a group that is all playing in time. Also, the endurance of these musicians is also astounding, because they are all playing an extremely difficult piece that lasts for an hour.

This is a major discovery for me because it got me to start composing music. I learned alot from this piece compositionally. I was heavily inspired by this piece of work, and it led me to go into a phase of creating compositions for piano. It is also important because I have fallen asleep many different times to this song, and it helps me sleep.

Pratim te by Tose Proeski

Pratim te is a song by Tose Proeski and also a title of his fifth album that came out in 2005. When you ask me to tell you why this is art I don’t know where to begin. Tose Proeski was one of the best male singers and performers of all time in my opinion. He is also an icon, a legend that will live forever. Pratim te is one of the most successful Balkan albums ever, released throughout the countries of ex-Yugoslavia.  The song is of a popish rock tune and it starts out with a piano intro. The melody of the song is great and very recognizable, original; accompanied with great lyrics and the unbelievable vocal performance of Tose. This is the time he rose to superstardom. Not many male vocalists can sing as high as he did and with that kind of a technique. Pratim te song and the whole album was released in two languages, Serbo-Croatian and Macedonian.  Tose Proeski was a Macedonian singer who started his career at a young age in his home country but his talent led him to expand in other countries as well such as Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Montenegro and Bulgaria.  Some of his early songs were never rerecorded in other languages and they still became really popular in those other countries. Proeski is not only remembered by his music but with his humanitarian work; he became the UNIICEF Goodwill Ambassador in 2004. Proeski is probably the only performer who succeeded in being popular in all of the ex-Yugoslav republics that were torn apart by war after the wars. Tose Proeski also recorded a couple of songs in English and Italian. He represented Macedonia at the Eurovision song contest with the song Life is in 2004. Proeski recorded the song Aria with a known Italian singer Gianna Nannini. In 2007, Tose signed a contract in London with an English label to start his worldwide career. Pratim te is probably his most successful album to date and it opened it up with the same titled song. BBC News called him “Elvis Presley of the Balkans”. Tose Proeski died in a car accident on October 16^th, 2007 in Croatia; he was 26. 

Bioshock

“I see angels Mr. Bubbles.” That phrase will forever ring in my mind as the focal point of one of the best pieces of art I have ever experienced. The video game Bioshock developed by 2K Games is by far of the highest quality, both visually and story-wise, that I have ever seen. Taking place in a secret underwater metropolis in the 1950’s, Rapture, the player is placed into an extremely eerie and vicious environment. The player is thrown into the occurrences and history of the city immediately, primarily finding out that the city had no real constraints on mechanical or biological evolution and seemed to be decades ahead of where the surface’s technology would have been. Specifically the invention of plasmids, or biological enhancements, that would allow a normal human to do incredible things like shoot lightning or fire out of their hands. The total immersion the game presents to the user for his control of those plasmids is truly incredible. You feel like you are actually setting fire to various objects, or people… and after a while you only realize, it was only a game.

I press anyone who is a fan of art deco style to just watch the game because they will find the architecture and interior design to be phenomenal examples of deco style. The developers specifically hired artists to design the world for them in order for it to be as authentic as possible, and it really shows with the final product. Even though the game is extremely violent and in essence belongs in the survival horror genre, its beauty and style blind the first impression of violence that would turn away an average person.

Zapp and Roger

When I listen to music, I am usually looking for something thats going to make me happy.  I want to hear something that is going to make me dance.  That music that just makes your heart bounce and beat to the rhythm.  The sound of good feeling that morphs your emotion into happy mode.  To achieve this feeling there's nothing else to listen to but Funk.

Funk has been around for quite a while.  I'm not sure exactly when the first funk band formed, or even who the first funk band is, but I do know that I am down with the funk.  No other music can completely overwhelm me with the urge to dance and let my personality flow from my body.  Honestly, it is like a drug to me.  I'm addicted and I don't wanna stop it.  When I hear the funk I nod my head, and when I hear the funk I dance.  Mostly, when I hear the funk I am happy.  Perfectly content with where I am at and what is going on.  There is no reason to be upset about anything, just let the funk take it away.  

Zapp and Roger has to be my most listened to by a mile.  They completely understood exactly how you should make funk sound and feel.  Every song has so much soul and feeling into it.  You can close your eyes and get lost.  Sometimes imagine what Zapp and Roger were thinking when they wrote this music.  to me it is amazing.  Coming from the very late 70's their sound was original and ahead of it's time.  They use a talk box, which to me is just ear candy.  There are many other funk bands worth listening to such as Earth Wind and Fire, The Gap Band, Cameo, Sly and the Family Stone, and many many more.  Although the end of Zapp and Roger ends in a tragic murder/suicide, I still love and listen to their music non stop.

The Departed

The greatest movie of all time is “The Departed”. It is a suspenseful movie about the Irish mob. The film has rats (secret spies) working for the mob and the police force. This movie was directed by the legendary Martin Scorsese. This particular film stands out because most of the crime movies Marin directed were about the Italian mob. He found that this true story about the Irish mob was so fascinating, that he did something different and made a movie about the Irish mob. I would say “The Departed” is what I like to call “a thinker movie”. It was one of those movies that had so many twists and turns, I had to watch it again to fully understand it. The movie is also unique because it ends with a different type of closure. Additionally, all the different aspects of this movie blend very well together. It has a multi star cast, a phenomenal director, and a fantastic screen writer. When I stepped out of the movie theater after seeing this film I predicted it would win an Oscar for best motion picture. I was right. Not only did it win best picture, but is also won adapted screenplay, editing, and Marin Scorsese finally won best director. This movie will stand the test of time because it has Oscar stamped on it. As soon as people see that it is an Oscar winner, they will want to watch it. I have seen many movies in my lifetime, but “The Departed” was the movie that left the strongest impact on me.

The Biggest Lie.

Like everyone else, it is very hard for me to pick a piece of art that I have to argue is the best, or amazing, or whatever. There is so much I like in all areas of art; music, painting, photography; it's hard to pick just one.

So today, because I'm sometimes a sap and this guy really means a lot to me, I picked a song by Elliott Smith (he died five years ago today). The song is called "The Biggest Lie"; it's my favorite song of his.

Now, if rules of this blog post allowed it, I could only say that it is AMAZING, and leave it at that. I feel if people hear this song and ask me to explain it, I don't feel I need to because they can hear why it's amazing. But, for the sake of this post, I will go on . . .

This song is very moving. Lyrically and instrumentally. Not many songs do that to me; it's either the instrumentation or the lyrics solely. His guitar playing is rather simple in this song, but it ties in so well with the lyrics. Very quiet, kind of subtle; just like he was. His singing is almost limited to a whisper. This alone makes you want to listen more closely. But, once you put the two together, you get smacked with complete sympathy for this man. It's like you can feel his pain and what he was dealing with.

My favorite part of the song is near the end: "Oh, we're so very precious you and I / and every thing that you do makes me wanna die / Oh, I just told the biggest lie . . ." If you happen to hear the studio version of this song, listen to the way he sings it. He puts a painful emphasis in his voice during these last lyrics. That's what really gets me. After listening to it, I just want to be depressed for a couple of hours (or until I listen to something else immediately after). I think if an artist can provoke that much feeling from his or her audience with their art, then they have definitely done something right.

You won't be able to hear what I'm telling you in the last paragraph through the YouTube video I'm posting because it's a live version ( I specifically like the guy bobbing his head through the whole video), but I also posted a tribute video to him featuring the studio version of the song. Just so you can hear it.





R.I.P Elliott Smith.

Told you I'm a sap.

-Jade N. Amey

The Nutcracker

Honestly, it is really hard for me to pick the best piece of art, but the ballet The Nutcracker is one of my favorite pieces of art.  It is a tradition for my mom and I to go see it every winter.  We have been going since I was five years old.  I love this ballet so much and I have never been tired of seeing it performed.  So far, I have seen this ballet performed in Kansas City and Indianapolis.  We have seen it performed by three different dance companies.  This year we may go see it here in Chicago, since I live here now.

The Nutcracker is an extraordinary ballet.  It's not one of those boring ballets where you fall asleep (I have done that before).  Sometimes it is hard for me to comprehend that the dancers are telling a story without speaking.  That takes a lot of talent to capture an audience and keep them interested.  The combination of costumes, dancing, music, and lighting makes The Nutcracker a great performance.  The costumes are vibrant colors and are from a different time period.  The dancing is amazing.  The way the dancers can point their toes and have so much grace and balance always inspires me too go out and dance.  The music by the live orchestra is always refreshing.  It's not that often that I get to listen to a live orchestra.  The lighting focuses on the dancers and makes them stand out more.  Just talking about all of the elements makes me excited to go see the ballet this winter.

The Lord Of The Rings

I think that one of the most magnificent works of all time is The Lord of The Rings. This book is a very compelling piece because you could be reading one of the books in the trilogy, or you could be reading The Hobbit and could suddenly find that you have read 200 pages or more and that half the night is gone. There is also the fact that you will find humor in the trilogy or The Hobbit at exactly the right moment in the story.

What works about the The Lord of The Rings is that it has a very deep and compelling background history to it. It is innovative because before J.R.R. Tolkien created The Lord of The Rings he was writing a bunch of stories, which he started in high school, that became the well known background history for The Lord of The Rings. These stories were later published in their own right by Christopher Tolkien as The History of Middle Earth and The Silmarillion.

The Lord of The Rings will stand the test of time because it already has stood it. The Lord of The Rings was copyrighted in 1936 and it has been around for seventy years. A few years ago they created movies from the trilogy; the movies were very popular, which shows that the trilogy still has life and will continue on. I think that people will continue to tell their children about The Lord of The Rings well into the future.

Goin' to Chicago...

Led Zeppelin’s 1971 seven minute piece titled “When the Levee Breaks,” is one of the most beautiful works of art that my senses have ever encountered. Not many people are aware of the fact that this song is actually a cover of a previous blues song performed by Kansas Joe and Memphis Minnie. One of the members of Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant, heard the song and decided to revise it with a more upbeat tempo, but still keeping the original southern blues sound throughout the entire song. The reason this song is so powerful is because there has never been anything like it and there probably never will be; allowing this song to ‘stand the test of time‘ and remain respected for the last 37 years. “When the Levee Breaks” opens with a hard rock drum beat and leads into a roaring harmonica and guitar ensemble. There is a continuous guitar riff throughout the song that allows everything to flow smoothly. This always creates a thought in my head as if something was in constant motion; the lyrics coincide with this thought….“When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.” A timeless song from a classic band that will never age.

Led Zeppelin Version-


Kansas J0e/Memphis Minnie-

Blog Post #7

For this post I want you to argue for a piece of art. Tell us why a certain painting, movie, play, song, tight rope walk, etc... is the greatest piece of art you've ever encountered. Be specific, what about this piece of art works? Don't just say it's amazing; it blows my socks off; it makes me want to create. Tell us what specifically what is different about this piece than other pieces of the same genre. What makes it innovative? Why do you think it will stand the test of time?

Do this in 250 words or more. Also post a picture, you tube video, etc... of that piece.

Due Wednesday. Be sure to comment on one of your classmate's posts for full credit.

Cecil B. and the triathlon

Cecil B. lives in the suburbs. He is the most flexible man i've ever seen in my life. 

Every morning he wakes up, has a bowl of banana bread oatmeal, ties his shoes, puts on his hat, and does not walk out the door. He runs. 

"I'm training for a triathlon" he says. 

He runs with a ten pound dumb bell, and stretches like a rubber band. I wonder if his wife, Martha B. does physical activity more strenuous than knitting and needle point. Cecil is the kind of man that wears Martha's home made sweaters and scarves. He jogs across the train tracks, back and forth, dressed somewhat like Richard Simmons. He has a collection of fanny packs, Cecil B. does. His favorite is the cerulean blue with bright yellow trim and a kangaroo on the pouch. The last time Cecil blew out the candles on Martha's famous strawberry short cake, he was 53. I think he's in great shape for his age, Martha would agree. He never has time to talk, always a dog to get home to, or a poker game with the boys. But somehow, he just keeps on running. He's always in motion. I would kill for his thighs. He is the boss of his own business, therefore explaining why he has all the time in the world to run wherever, and whenever he pleases. Martha B. is proud, since they never had children, she invests her motherly instincts into Cecil's sport. She takes time out of her busy day of cleaning, and dusting her Elephant collection to make Cecil picnic lunches. She will sit on the park bench patiently for hours knowing that eventually, he will come back. 

Donald Mitski

Donald Mitski is an account annalist for a company that does finances for large corporations. He takes the train to Chicago ever morning instead of driving so he can start his work early and avoid the stresses of the traffic. As he sits on the train he hardly does any work, he has his laptop open so it looks like he is focused and hard working. He sees others on the train talking to friends and spouses and he secretly watches them. At work acts chipper towards all of his co-workers in hopes that someone might ask him to go out for drinks after work, unfortunately many of them think he is a creep and avoid having anything more than water cooler conversations. He rides the train home with a 20oz miller lite to take the edge off. Donald is a bachelor at the tender age of 43. He lives in a distant suburb of Chicago for the quiet atmosphere, but it greatly hurts his dating potential. He knows he is not the most attractive man, so he does not get out and play the field. Most nights when he gets home, he makes a frozen pizza and sits on the couch watching TV and has a few beers with his cat named Claire. He turns off the TV at 11:30 and goes to bed and has dreams of true companionship. His last relationship ended his senior year of high school with a girl named Jackie; he broke up with her when summer started because he thought that he was going to have tons of options in college. Turns out, in college he couldn’t get many dates, so he tried the party scene. He had a few drunken hookups at frat parties, but after a while the girls stayed away from him because he was always drunk. Today, he plans on going on e-harmony and hopes he will turn out like the commercials.

Trixie Jean Rides the Rails

Trixie Jean rides the pink, green, and blue line night after night.  She wears her wirey, fourty something year old, blond hair tied back into perverse pig tails that jut out from each side of her head.  She smears her face in cheap drug store pink blush.  She goes up over the cheek bones and then down the sides of her gaunt face until she vaguely resembles a five year old who got into mommy's make up.  She glides the bubblegum pink lipstick over her gnarled lips and puckers.  She looks around the train car as she does her work as if to attract anyone in the lonely light night El train car.  Next she moves onto her nails which are chipping with the same shade of pink nail polish.  She chips them clean and begins to reapply the tacky shade carefully moving in conjunction with the train's movements as not to mess up her nails.  She is clad in a pink cammie, baggy pink pajama pants and chunky pink flip flops.  Just as she finishes applying the goods from her Walgreens bag she takes a tissue and removes all the makeup.  The tissue is soaking with pink, making her face seem like its bleeding pink.  Once her face is clean again with its wrinkles and natural uneveness she begins her meticulous yet ridiculous makeup routine again.  She only looks up to smile at each stop of the train, or at any of the gentlemen who step on.  

Trixie rides the rails all night looking for a paying gig.  She is usually unsuccessful probably due to the fact that she's pushing fifty and still trying to look like some little Lolita.  Occasionally she gets an offer from a hardup old man or two.  They get off the train, find an empty alley and she'll pull his dick out leaving a ring of pink around it even after he's finished.  They never want to fuck her, she almost looks too sad for that and you never put your dick in a hooker, for safety's sake.  How could you explain to your wife of 20 years why you suddenly have chlamydia?  She's probably been raped in the past, which is why it'd just be sad to fuck her now. 

Tonight is not a successful endeavor for poor Trixie, at least not in the duration of my green line ride.  She giggles to herself as if enjoying some secret joke that the rest of us can't understand.  The giggle is almost sinister, but its probably a side effect of schizophrenia which went untreated as a young woman, before all of this.  

Eric from Michigan.

I guess this is half make believe, half psychic on my behalf . . .

I was riding the blue line home from class today, like I normally do everyday after class or work. I'm one of those people on the train that once he or she get on, he or she glances around the car; looking to see if they know anyone (I think a lot of people do that). I didn't see anyone I recogonized today, but this one kid did stick out in my mind. He was sitting down, minding his own business, but for some reason I felt like I knew a lot about him. And I've never met this boy in my life.

I tried to watch him, nonchalantly, of course. He was wearing a bright yellow zip-up sweater with the hood flipped over his head. Under his hood, he had yellow hair. It was cut in a way that I knew a lot of kids from Michigan had their hair cut if they were in a hardcore 'screamo' band; meaning it was a little long and the layers were straightened yet jagged all over his head. He was also sporting girl jeans, like many boys I know in those bands back home. From this, I decided that he was from Michigan and that his name was Eric (no reason for that name). He was visiting some friends in Chicago for the week and he would be getting off at the Division blue line stop; one stop behind mine. He definitely was in a band; one of those bands that held local shows at one of the churches in my home county.

I also imagined that he was about 18 or 19, fresh out of high school but not in college because he was focusing on his music, which hadn't really gone anywhere since he left high school. Either way, he was determined to make it in the music business.

At one point, while cautiously watching him in his seat, he pushed up his sleeves. Low and behold, there was a Michigan tattoo. Right on his inner left arm. I was astonished with myself; how could I possibly know this? This happening made me more curious about him, so I studied him more intently. He was wearing skater shoes, and he also had a lip ring. As I studied him more, I become more convinced that he was from Michigan, but probably somewhere around the Port Huron area where all of these kids hang out. I had no way of knowing, but from past experiences I just assumed.

About 15 minutes have passed since I got on the train, and we were approaching Division and Milwaukee next. Eric begins to gather his back pack and starts to get out form his seat. Could he really be getting off at Division? As soon as the train stops and the door opens, Eric walks out onto the platform and walks up a set of stairs. I was excited; I knew so much about this kid, yet I have never met him. I chose the Division stop because I know a lot of people from Port Huron who live off of that stop, so I just assumed he would be getting off there because that's where his friends resided.

It's a little scary how I know my home area a little too well, even to the point where I imagine which people in Chicago are from there. I just happen to be right with some things on this one.

-Jade N. Amey

Tommy Angelo

They called him Tommy, Tommy Angelo. He is about thirty years old, black hair and close to six feet. He never went out anywhere without getting dressed up. When he walked in the room it would go silent, it was out of a respect. Tommy Angelo was a son of a reputed Chicago gangster, John Angelo. Tommy was married and had three children but he had his flings on the side. Tommy went to college and got a degree in Marketing. He is the boss of his TA Moving and Storage Company, but did Tommy get his hands dirty. Most people fear him because of his father although he has a very distant relationship with him. Some people say he tries to put on an act that he is not connected and that he doesn’t have anything to do with the underground business. The fact is that Tommy has never been arrested. Tommy loves going out and being seen at expensive places. He also loves going on vacations and he takes them very frequently. Tommy drives an Aston Martin and has a yacht called Sicilia. It makes you think why would Tommy Angelo ever consider riding a train? That day on the train what I noticed the most was his all brand and expensive clothing, like he was on the red carpet. I want those Prada sun glasses.

Ted Nofingers

Ted Nofingers is a man I met on the bus at 2 in the morning on a Saturday night.  He wore an oversized trench coat with holes all over the back and ever seem frayed and the ends.  On his feet were an old beat up pair of moon boots covered in assorted colors of paint.  To cover his legs he wore big cargo pants with a big rip at the knee.  A bright blue wool cap on his head is the first thing that caught my eye.  It was obvious to see that this man was homeless by the tattered cloths and weathered face covered by at least a ten year old beard.  He sat in the center of the bus and looked at everyone that passed, sometimes raising his had and yelling "high five".  If you made contact with his hand, it is not five that you'll get, it is only three.  Sitting behind him, you could tell he had not showered in a while.  He turned around and introduced himself to me.  "My name Ted Nofingers" he yelled at me.  I said hi and looked out the window.  Thats when I thought to myself how this man came to be the man he is today.  Based on his friendliness, he was a happy and upbeat young man.  Probably had a good group of friends but wasn't a "popular" person at school.  As he got older, Ted got involved with the drug game and tried to make a name of himself that way.  The problem was that he was too friendly.  He couldn't execute the "business" and started to fall behind in money.  As a result he found trouble with the people above him.  He started using his product and fell behind on payment.  With debt stacked high he was in trouble.  Thats how he lost his fingers, which put him even further down in his life.  It was then he escaped life with drugs and eventually lost everything.  I hate to think of things like that, but truthfully, it happens more often than it should.

Jonathen

His name is Jonathan. He is a white male, 20 year old art student with short hair, who was riding the train home thinking about the art project he was supposed to be working on at Depaul. He has a job at the local art supply store and he knows a lot about what are the best supplies for the different kinds of people that come into the store. He is single and does not have any children for which he is grateful because he is not ready to become a parent by any stretch of the imagination.
His hobbies are that he loves to paint and draw and he knows a lot about computers he wears a leather coat with a black t-shirt and baggy goth pants and he carries around two big messenger bags. One is for his textbooks and one is for his art supplies. He is very content with the way his life is.

Eric Straton

“Get those figures for me by five-o’clock tonight Dave or you’re fucking fired,” Eric Straton yelled into his black iPhone, as he sat uncomfortably in the rear seat of the CTA car. Straton, a 51 year old man with wiry graying hair, born in Chicago 35 years ago, looked uneasy as he hastily placed his phone in the pocket of his recently pressed black suit. Working as a hedge fund director for Morgan Stanley, Eric Straton finds that he is not living the life he once dreamed to be a ton of money handed to him on a silver platter. He is responsible for billions of dollars of his company’s investors’ money, and one mistake can literally cost him his life.

Having gone through an undergraduate program at The University of Illinois in economics and achieving a MBA, Eric has worked very hard to attain his position of power. Yet during almost every day of his life, he is constantly depressed. He doesn’t have any time to spend with his two children, Ben and Sarah, nor does he ever have a moment to be intimate with his faithful wife, Rachel. All he thinks about are economic figures and profit margins. Gone are the days of the true love he felt when Ben was born, or when he first met Rachel. His phone rings again and he feels a tug in his gut of yet another call of bad news due to the recent economic downturn. He clears his head of all emotion and trudges onward, miserable and alone.

That Girl

She gets on the bus everyday approximately seven minutes after eight at the waveland stop of the 146 express bus to downtown.  she holds in her hand a newspaper clipping and a pen.  she does not bother looking for a seat she just grabs hold of one of the poles and starts writing.  she does her sudoku and crossword puzzle daily, not once looking up from her paper.  also she never carries a pencil.  it is always a pen.  she writes quickly and usually finishes both puzzles by the time she exits the bus on michigan avenue.  she never seizes to amaze me with her puzzle skills.  i would have to say she is about 25 and i think she lives at home with her cats who she feeds when she gets home from work then sits to do more puzzles.  she does not seem like the type to go out much and if she is in a relationship its with a homebody because thats how she seems.  im sure she has friends but they probably all do puzzles just as she does.  id name her Sue.

Grifdog

As I was sitting on the Orange Line heading back home from another day of school, a tall, Caucasian male walked in and sat down next to me. The scary thing about this was that there were at least four other open seats that he could have chosen to sit at very easily, but nope, he passed them up to sit specifically by me. The creeps are just attracted to my scent or something weird like that. Anyways, you should have seen this guy. He was dressed like a 5 year old. He was wearing a striped polo, gym shorts, a Boston Red Sox hat, and even had the nerve to wear socks with open toed sandals. Of course I also noticed that he smelled like a mixture of UV Vodka and Busch Light, so I figured maybe that would be the reason why his fashion sense was lacking. Then I realized that it was 2 PM and this thought immediately was replaced with me wondering why the hell this man needed to be drunk this early in the day. Not even ten seconds after arriving to this thought, the man spoke to me. Well, he attempted to speak to me but had a little bit of trouble because of his slurred speech and heavy eyes. I think the only reason he didn’t speak to me when he immediately got on the train was because he fell asleep for the minute that I was examining his horrific choice of fashion. The guy told me his name was Matt Griffiths and that the 5-0 were out to get him because he was “2 L 2 L.” Since no sane person would understand this, I asked him what the hell he was talking about and before explaining this to me, he went on a rant about how he hated the entire state of Indiana. He never got to a valid point, but he humored me so I just sat there and nodded. “Grifdog,” Matt’s nickname that he obtained in college because of his “wolfish” looks, finished his hateful Indiana speech and came back to the meaning behind the 5-0 chasing him. I guess “2 L 2 L” means “too legit too live.” While he explained this to me, he even used hand signals for the number 2 and the letter L. This man was completely insane. At this point, I started getting officially creeped out. Grifdog seemed harmless, but he had no clue how to act in public. He did not adhere to any of the unwritten laws that one usually would in this world. One more stop. I couldn’t wait. Thankfully, Matt Griffiths was so drunk that he once again fell asleep midsentence while he was describing play-by-play, last nights Red Sox game. The train stopped at Midway, it’s last stop, and I quickly got off. Since then, I have learned to avoid these incredibly awkward situations by standing up for the whole 30 minute train ride home. If Matt Griffiths hasn't ran into a moving vehicle or the 5-0 yet again, I wish him the best of luck with his life and hopes he finds someone just as legit as he is.

SCOTT HEMMINGWAY

Scott Hemmingway is on the 126 CTA bus every day. He sits all the way in the back of the bus in the right corner. Scott is a handsome young man in his thirties. He is a lawyer downtown, so he wears a white button down dress shirt with a black, shiny silk tie every day. He wears a suit on top of that. The coat and dress pants are smooth, shiny, and black. The material of the fabric is microfiber. Right below Scott’s ankles are two of the shiniest shoes I have ever seen. They have such a high gloss that I could see my reflection. No matter what the weather is like Scott’s shoes are always perfectly clean and never have a smudge on them. He has a pure face with no scars or freckles, a chiseled jaw line, and piercing unusual bright green eyes. His face is always clean shaven, and his hair is slicked back with shiny gel. Scott is married and has two kids who are five and three. He went to law school at Loyola University and graduated with high honors. He has a TV family life, where everyone is happy and gets along. His wife is understanding and lets him go golfing while she stays home and watches the kids. Like in TV, if there is a family conflict, it is always resolved and everyone is happy once again. The only problem with this well groomed, immaculate, perfect family man is that every single day I see him in the back of the bus just digging and digging in his nose.

Kayla Remington

This is Kayla Remington.  She is sitting quietly on the train a few seats ahead of me.  She looks about my age, maybe a little older.  Kayla is holding a small child on her lap.  Her baby girl is crying and fussing, while Kayla does nothing about it.  Kayla seems to be extremely tired and worn out, ready to get home from a long day of work.  She wears black pants, black sneakers, and a red shirt from her job.  Her hair is in a loose ponytail.  Kayla works almost everyday trying to save up money so she can get her own apartment and move out of her mom's house.  She doesn't living there because they always get into arguments, but it is the only place to live for now.  Kayla originally wanted to go to college right out of high school, but her senior year she had a baby and her plans changed.  The father has no part of either of their lives, so the only income is her own.  While Kayla sits on the train she thinks about her old friends who are in college.  They don't have to worry about raising a child.  She secretly wishes she could be them, but looks down at her daughter and realizes she would be nothing without her.  Someday she wants to go to college, but she knows that for now she has other priorities to worry about.

tara

She sits under a tree, a notebook in her hand. Tara is her name, she is blonde and beautiful, but nothing is as it seems, everyone thinks that she is perfect, but she wants people to see more than her outside. At 19 she is a sophmore in college, she lives on her own and supports herself. Being far away from her home in the country is hard on her, she likes the city but she loves the country with trees everywhere and wild animals around, life is simler out there. In the city she stays night and day working and going to school. She dreams of someday being a dance teacher, i can see her bag full of dance clothes and shoes sitting next to her as shes writing. She's writing in her journal, her thoughts that can only be known to her. She stops and looks up, a boy has come over to her, she seems to recognize him. Before to long they're talking and laughing, this is the guy shes had a crush on. Tara is hoping this is finally the special guy for her and not just a regular one, her hopes and dreams are right there waiting for her, its only a matter of time.

The Jesus Christ Killer

My car was steadfast in thundering jolts of confusion when I first saw him. In a dramatically cinematic moment, with lights fading and flickering in horroresque omnipotence, my eyes met his. This was my introduction to the killer. My heart sank as I gazed his unruly visage and noticed his disfigurement. We were the only occupants of the car and it would be impossible to avoid the awkwardness of the mutual exchange of body language that ensued. I tried to just nod in a friendly manner to suggest my understanding of his existence but somehow my graitousness was rejected. Instead his hellion stare peirced my comfort and left me cold and nervous. His eyes flickered reflections in glowing pulses in phase with shuddering of the lights. I felt increasingly uneasy as I found my self the sole object of his stare. The tension would not have budged if not for the opening of the doors for the next stop of waiting commuters, eager to get home on this particularly dreary evening. Only two others entered our car and instead of the police officer and bodyguard I might have hoped for to ensure my protection, I got a little girl and a little old lady, the two most defenseless options I could have had. My mind was telling me to look away and to avoid at all costs the glare of the demon's peering sight but I could not. I could not tell if the mutilations were burns or boils or something else. Possibly they were result of a horrible accident or maybe just a defect from birth or symptoms of an illness. Either way they ate away at what little looks this man possesed and devoured any sense of normalcy this man may have once have had. When the little girl entered the car she unnoticingly sat diagonally infront of the demon. I was possesed to call out in warning to tell this little girl to sit somewhere else or get out of harms way but I was frozen with fear. The man smiled a twisted and demented sort of smile when the girl sat in front of him and inserted her ear bud headphones into her ears. He leaned slightly forward and while looking at me he slowly closed his eyes and seem to take a deep breath through his nostrils. It seemed he was smelling the young girl's hair. I was terrified but still I could not move or act. His vicious grin gave the impression of a torured soul. He was a sick and perverted creep and he was really starting to freak me out. His delight was at an apex as he leaned closer and closer to the girl and began to take deeper and deeper breaths through his nose. He was undoubtedly getting off on the scent of this poor young girl's hair. Just then the next El stop arrived and the girl got up to vacate the El car. The demon moved swiftly behind her,exposing through his trench coat a pair of handcuffs next to a knife on his belt. and followed her every step towards the doors. Just before they were about to leave I lept up and started shouting at the girl. "Wait, Stop, Don't!" but it was too late. Just before the doors were closing the demon pushed the girl off the train and I was stuck between them and a glass window in the sliding doors. I seized the panic call button as fast as I could find it but it was too late again. By the time I called the conductor and informed him to stop the train there was no time. The doors opened and I ran towards the front of the train to talk to the conductor. He was outside now and I was shouting at him to call the police and get whoever he could down here to help this poor girl. We heard her screams in the distance of the tunnel heading towards the next stop. The conductor phoned ahead to the next station to warn of what had happened. My stomach churned in nautious convultions and I dropped to my knees to keep from falling over. I looked in front of me on the ground and I saw it. A photo of the demon appeared on the top page of a folded newspaper. I unfolded the newspaper and read the headline atop the picture. "DEFORMED RAPIST STALKS VICTIMS ON CTA." It all seemed unfold at this point. My assumptions were correct. He was in fact a demon, as his one surviving victim had described in the newspaper article. This poor 16 year old girl had been handcuffed, tortured, and then raped only to survive her attacker by being discovered in captivity by a real estate agent checking out the abandoned warehouse she was being held in. All his other victims, an estimated 17 other young girls, were not lucky enough to be found in time. They all bled to death from the wounds inflicted by their attacker post rape. He liked to take his girls to big abandoned buildings and chain them against the wall with their arms being spread apart. This crucifix-like imagery, along with the fact that the attacker inflicted wounds similar to that of a stigmata is what led the media to coin the term "jesus christ killer." What a significantly assembled group of words that is. I was shocked. I could not believe where I was. I heard the beeps of the walkie-talkies and the bemused conversations of a clueless CTA staff. I just slumped against a pillar and waited for the police to arrive. I knew they would have questions to ask me. I felt awful. If only I could have done something. The investegators were eager to hear every detail of my encounter with the jesus christ killer. When I finished recounting the events of earlier, the detectives agreed to answer a few of my questions. It turns out that the supposed killer was identified in videos provided by the CTA by the one surviving victim. His likeness in the video was traced back to arrest records of previous offenses by the presumed killer.Born Theodore Maxwell, 1961, the alleged killer was born with an incredibly severe case of cystic acne that had never been even remotely treatable. His enormously grotesque abscesses on his face had most likely been the biggest reason for his violent and detached history of behaviour in life. He had been a sociopath since early adolescence and was in and out of the care of numerous therapists. His disease led him to feel extreme bouts of depression. Perhaps this was the initial motivator of his evil ways. He has, to date, served time in jail 8 times. Usually for offenses like arson and vandalism charges. Lewd drawings and displays of perversion throughout the city. He had even been accused of blowing up a large portion of a elementary school building. (the elementary school that he once went to). He somehow avoided prosecution due to lack of substancial evidence. It began to become clear to me in my mind, that is, the tradgic story of this person's demise. He was a tortured soul that the records showed had never married and had never known his true parents. Instead he had bounced between foster care facilities, never staying anywhere for more than two years. He was all alone and was a hideous shell of a man both physically and emotioinally. Serveral of the phychologists who treated him agreeingly diagnosed him as a severe sociopath. I swallowed the horror I felt in terrible trembles. I could only think of the innocent little girl. The poor little girl who was helpless now, abducted by the most horriffic of all pyschopathic killers. It was the first night in ages that I walked home from a late class without my usual end of the day cigarrette. I was just too stiff to indulge in anything. I was paralyzed still in my walk on my way home. I was entranced by the gruesome things I had just endured. Which of course were nothing compared to what the victims would endure. I made sure to lock my doors and windows that night. I shuddered and did not sleep. I was reminded of how sick the world truly is. And still the guilt ate me alive. Why didn't I act sooner, could I have done anything to save this poor unfornate girl's life? I lamented and did not sleep. The lights were on in my room to give the false sense of safety. As I lay awake all night, too afraid to allow my dreams a chance to become nightmares. I could only see one thing in my thoughts. His demented face, with demon like eyes. I waited for the sun to rise before I laid to rest. I was never going to be the same.

Derrick Johnson

Derrick is a twenty-year-old college student originally from the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. He transferred to Columbia this fall from a state school because he wanted to be in a more artistic community. In high school Derrick and his friends would write and produce their own movies. Although he wasn’t the most popular kid in school, everyone knew and loved the movies he made. Since writing had always been a hobby of Derricks, he decided to major in film. He wants to become a famous screenwriter. On the train he sits relaxed in his chair, with his right foot resting on his left knee. Reading the Daily Herald, it is obvious that he is involved in what is going on in the world. His laidback nature portrays that he is not directly from the city, although he has adapted well. He is wearing loose jeans and a generic dark red shirt. On the seat next to him is his rather large messenger bag. The bag contains a Macbook Pro and textbooks. A light jacket rests on the top. Derrick’s friends would describe him as calm and collected. He is shy and timid but very knowledgeable. He never voices his opinion until he is asked. Derrick is the only child and doesn’t have close relatives in the in the city, the only people he knows are the few he met in his production classes. Although he doesn’t know very many people he enjoys the city and all the opportunities it brings.

Blog Post #6

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

- Ezra Pound


For this post I want you to create a life! Observe someone on the train or bus and create a back story for the person. Describe them to us in detail and then tell us about them! What do they do for a living? Are they married? Single? Do they have kids? What are their hobbies? Did they go to college? What was their major? Go wild.

Due next Wednesday.

Remember to post on one other blog for full credit!

Smoke Rings

I read the article, “Smoke Rings” by Dahlia Lithwick. The issue at hand deals with the legality of “low-tar” labeling. The main point to the essay is to broadcast the deception of many cigarette companies. She explains that the states-rights are taken over by the federal pre-emption when complex legal problems arise. The biggest issues at hand is consumer-protection. Recently, many lawsuits have been filed because cigarette labels are misleading. The labels have claimed that “low-tar” and “light” cigarettes are better or healthier for you than the regular ones, and that simply is not the case. The voice of the article is very informative. In order to establish ethos, Lithwick, uses many facts and quotes from the cigarette companies and Congress to build her argument. Majority of her article is built on factually information. However, at some parts of the essay, Lithwick changes her voice to a more satirical tone; the (sometimes) dramatic shift tells the reader her stance on the topic. She believes the government should not legalized the “low-tar” labeling on cigarettes. She does not understand why congress would want to get rid of the traditional rule that advertising has to tell the truth. This presents a complex question. Should cigarette companies be able to legally trick the consumers into thinking that certain tobacco products are better for you than others, knowing that there is no significant different. She despises the fact that big tobacco companies are basically protected from consumer lawsuits by the government.

American Lit Not Nobel Worthy

I think this article was interesting to say the least.  Interesting and wildly insulting to American lit and quite frankly to those who read it.  The article just name dropped a bunch of haughty American authors like Morrison, Roth, and Danielle Steel?? I think whoever compiled this piece just wanted everyone reading it to know he or she thought they were smart enough to talk about Phillip Roth and literature.  As well as mindless name dropping the author wasted a lot of space without actually proposing a real concrete reason for the point of the article.  I couldn't derive a single real reason why a nobel peace prize was not in the near future for any American writers.  The piece sort of went nowhere in my opinion.  It was written like a blog, which made it confusing to people who were not familiar with reading a blog news article.  There were too many "choose your own ending" parts where you had to click on a user to get the rest of the story.  I don't think a blog is an acceptable way to publish news other than gossip.  Long story short, this article in presentation was confusing and inconclusive to say the least.  The author of the article had no idea what she or he was talking about.  I found the article I read about Carrie Bradshaw's outfits in the Sex and the City movie to be more cohesive than this article I wrote about.  If anyone actually has any real thoughts on American Lit versus the Nobel Peace Prize, you can leave me a comment.  Maybe we can out do slate.com

"On Love, On Grief"

"On Love, On Grief" is a poem written by Walter Savage Landor(1775-1864) that was recently reviewed by Robert Pinksy in an essay called "Why Walter Savage Landor's Classic Epigram is a Lesson in Economy." The poem consists of only two lines:

"On love, on grief, on every living thing,

Time sprinkles Lethe's water with his wing."

The review of this poem has about thirty times as many words. The author of the review goes in depth about each word contained in this epigram. The odd thing about this review is that the title makes on believe the reviewer will connect the short poem to economics, but I read nothing of that sort in the article. To understand this poem, I would have needed to read the article first. I would not have understood the allusion of Lethe's water or the important image of time having wings. The next paragraph delves into the physical feel and sound of the words of the poem as they are being said.

The author states at the beginning of article that this is for the revival of Slate's poem column, so I believe the intended audience is supposed to be people that love poems.  Although this review is only an interpretation of the poet's work.

Drowned World Tour

I read the article Drowned World Tour by Daniel Politi. This article was about the droppings of markets around the world because of the recent economic crisis with Wall Street. This is a very serious tone of voice that is heartbreaking for the audience. It is making the audience scared and insecure about their future. It is directed toward everybody: younger, educated, middle age family, investor, etc. audience. This article is leading toward the election and the choices of choosing the right candidate who can change it back and stop the recession. What struck me the most is that the article says openly that government intervention won't be enough to stave off a potentially severe global recession. It kind of doesn’t give any hope to the readers. I guess it could prepare the people for the inevitable, so they could deal with it better and a lot easier. Personally I don’t think that the world is in trouble. I believe that Unites States potentially is and this article is for their citizens. As other countries started to develop economically, they are not dependent of America anymore and it is ruining the investments in those countries. They are selling their products for cheaper and better quality. Also American banks are in trouble and the credit system which has been functioning artificially for some time, going in debt more and more without real cash flow with prices just going up. I think that there are two possible solutions for these problems. I think either the other markets in the world are going to become stronger and more independent which would destroy Wall Street, or there will be a big inflation and those with the world markets struggling and their economies, the American dollar will grow stronger and potentially equal the European Euro, British Pound, etc. or be stronger than them. It would give US advantage again or it would turn the leading to some other country.