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March 31, 2003MY APOLOGY
MY APOLOGY
It came to my attention last Friday that some of my students (and their parents) are offended by the anonymous appearance of their essay bloopers in my website’s journal. Quite frankly, I was offended that they had turned in essays laden with such errors in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there.
It’s been suggested that I have assaulted my students’ collective self-esteem, that the inclusion of their bloopers was mean-spirited and cruel on my part, and that I have a responsibility as an educator to build them up instead of tearing them down. While I’d take issue with the first two assertions, I agree with that last part completely. It is my responsibility as an educator to build up my students. If I didn’t care, or if I honestly thought that what they had given me was the best of which they were capable, I’d let their errors slide by without comment.
Because of how they fared with their Oedipus/Antigone essays, I set down rather stringent grading standards for my seniors’ next writing assignment. After ten typos, I stopped reading their essay and graded it based on how far I’d read before hitting the tenth error. While that probably sounds capricious and draconian to my detractors, the result was that my seniors actually proofread their essays before turning them in, and the essays were of a higher caliber.
I’ve observed that people usually give you what you demand of them, and there’s no reason to think that high school students are somehow exempt. Aside from the few students of mine for whom reading is intrinsically fun, or for whom writing comes naturally, my task in the classroom is that of the religious zealot proselytizing to the unbelievers. It doesn’t help matters any that the day of reckoning—the point at which they will be judged by their actions—is only about ten weeks away.
Melodramatic? Not really. As I’ve told my students, people in the “real” world will judge them on a variety of criteria. Right or wrong, their ability to articulate themselves through their writing and speech is one of those criteria by which others will judge them. I’d rather not have future employers, co-workers, classmates, professors, friends and acquaintances of theirs sell my students short because their writing isn’t up to par with their cognitive ability.
When left to its own devices, life is stagnant. Change is spurred by a lack, an unmet need, a feeling of dissatisfaction. Oysters don’t whip together pearls out of the goodness of their hearts, and aposomatic coloration isn’t just a matter of self-décor. As humans, we’re no different. Anybody who thinks my students’ writing will improve without an externally imposed standard is naïve, and anybody who contends that I’m mocking their best efforts is dealing them an insult far worse than that of which I’ve been accused.
And that’s for what I apologize. To any of my seniors who might be reading this, I apologize on behalf of those who have hobbled you—or, worse, taught you to hobble yourself—in the name of self-esteem and cheap complacency.
I only have you guys for one more quarter, much of which will be sabotaged by the inevitable post-Spring Break wanderlust. There’s not enough time for the easy fix, even if such a thing existed. All I can do is try and cross-pollinate you with dissatisfaction at your current lot and hope that something blossoms. For your sake, catch that scent of blood on the air before the Judas goat nudges you all into line.
Posted by patrick at 04:06 AM | Comments (4)
A successful opening!
“Foreplay and More” opened last Friday to a full house, and pulled in darn good numbers for the inaugural offering from a brand new theater company. Saturday’s audience was robust, if a little quiet. Today’s matinee crowd was small (which was, is, and forever shall be the curse of the matinee performance), but they were louder than their numbers would have suggested.
All five of the one-acts looked superb, but I’m especially proud of my cast for “English Made Simple”: Rich Lashua, Kerby Joe Grubb, and Hope Villanueva. Kudos also go out to Missy for her adroit work with the light and sound cues (of which my show is, by comparison, stuffed to the gills), and to A.J. Tesler's much-needed cameo.
There will be two more weekends of performances at the Actors’ Forum Theater in North Hollywood, and a weekend of performances at the Curtis Theater in Brea at the end of April. Click here for more info.
Posted by patrick at 03:58 AM | Comments (0)
March 26, 2003
Tremble before the power of wabi...
I learned a new word this evening, and I’m anxious to share it with others. While new words are always exciting, I’m especially jazzed about today’s word because it’s the term for a definition that I’d already admired and with which I’d empathized, but had no easy label with which to cart it around. It’s as if somebody affixed a sturdy handle to a favorite briefcase which, up until now, I’d had to lug around with both arms.
“What’s the damn word, already?” you’re probably shouting.
The word is wabi (rhymes with “Bobby”), a Japanese term for the flawed detail—or the presence of the flawed detail—that creates a more elegant whole by its presence. I’ve been intrigued by this concept ever since I heard about the Persian rug-makers who, believing that only Allah’s efforts should/could end in perfection, would deliberately add a mistake to their wares. Personally, I don’t think that wabi has to be a mistake made at the moment of the object’s creation; the unavoidable ravages of time will suffice just as well. If you think that something is cooler for having been previously owned, that it has more personality for having been around the block a few times, then you, too, are a proponent of wabi. I would apply the concept of wabi to people, also. Why else would anybody find beauty in a well-placed birthmark, or feel like a certain old person’s face tells a particularly evocative story?
I bought a wooden mask recently from a thrift store that specializes in the sort of vintage items one wouldn’t necessarily spot down at the local Goodwill. It’s asymmetrical, the victim of a few minor injuries, and quite obviously handcrafted—the Guatemalan artist carved his name onto the back. This thing is just dripping with wabi. I appreciate its imperfections and idiosyncrasies. It wouldn’t be nearly so neat if it were perfectly symmetrical, mint condition, and mass-produced.
In honor of wabi, I'm going to end this journal entry with an incomplete
Posted by patrick at 12:38 AM | Comments (3)
March 19, 2003
"The Arrogance of Power"
Below, I've reprinted the text of a speech Senator Robert Byrd gave before a mostly empty Senate chamber earlier today. I found it articulate and impassioned, and the idea of the oldest and longest-serving member of Congress being the one to deliver it reminded me of Mark Twain's "The War Prayer".
While I thought Senator Byrd's speech was worth sharing, I'm sure that many will disagree vehemently with its sentiments. They will remind me that we're fighting to defend our freedom. They will say that it's unpatriotic of me to voice such sentiments, that it's time for me to put my differences with the current administration aside and support our troops. If freedom of speech is one of the pillars of democracy that we'd like to see the Arabs erect for themselves, why should I--or any of the other "traitors"--be stigmatized for exercising it? I look around and see folks shuffling over into the pro-war column for no other reason than peer pressure and numb resignation towards an administration that, quite frankly, doesn't give half a damn what they think.
We've been cowed by the government. The current conflict makes no more sense than having your gardener preemptively uproot a neighbor's lawn in your name just in case crabgrass were to flourish there, and just in case it were to spread to your yard at some point in the future. The government is like that gardener; they work for us, not the other way around. We keep paying, and paying, and paying, and we're so damned busy watching "American Idol," we don't bother to look out the window and see how our lawn has withered and browned.
But I digress. Here's Senator Byrd's speech. I'm just unsuccessfully gilding the lily, anyhow.
The Arrogance of Power
I believe in this beautiful country. I have studied its roots and gloried in the wisdom of its magnificent Constitution. I have marveled at the wisdom of its founders and framers. Generation after generation of Americans has understood the lofty ideals that underlie our great Republic. I have been inspired by the story of their sacrifice and their strength.
But, today I weep for my country. I have watched the events of recent months with a heavy, heavy heart. No more is the image of America one of strong, yet benevolent peacekeeper. The image of America has changed. Around the globe, our friends mistrust us, our word is disputed, our intentions are questioned.
Instead of reasoning with those with whom we disagree, we demand obedience or threaten recrimination. Instead of isolating Saddam Hussein, we seem to have isolated ourselves. We proclaim a new doctrine of preemption which is understood by few and feared by many. We say that the United States has the right to turn its firepower on any corner of the globe which might be suspect in the war on terrorism. We assert that right without the sanction of any international body. As a result, the world has become a much more dangerous place.
We flaunt our superpower status with arrogance. We treat UN Security Council members like ingrates who offend our princely dignity by lifting their heads from the carpet. Valuable alliances are split. After war has ended, the United States will have to rebuild much more than the country of Iraq. We will have to rebuild America's image around the globe.
The case this Administration tries to make to justify its fixation with war is tainted by charges of falsified documents and circumstantial evidence. We cannot convince the world of the necessity of this war for one simple reason. This is a war of choice.
There is no credible information to connect Saddam Hussein to 9/11. The twin towers fell because a world-wide terrorist group, Al Qaeda, with cells in over 60 nations, struck at our wealth and our influence by turning our own planes into missiles, one of which would likely have slammed into the dome of this beautiful Capitol except for the brave sacrifice of the passengers on board.
The brutality seen on September 11th and in other terrorist attacks we have witnessed around the globe are the violent and desperate efforts by extremists to stop the daily encroachment of western values upon their cultures. That is what we fight. It is a force not confined to borders. It is a shadowy entity with many faces, many names, and many addresses.
But, this Administration has directed all of the anger, fear, and grief which emerged from the ashes of the twin towers and the twisted metal of the Pentagon towards a tangible villain, one we can see and hate and attack. And villain he is. But, he is the wrong villain. And this is the wrong war. If we attack Saddam Hussein, we will probably drive him from power. But, the zeal of our friends to assist our global war on terrorism may have already taken flight.
The general unease surrounding this war is not just due to "orange alert." There is a pervasive sense of rush and risk and too many questions unanswered. How long will we be in Iraq? What will be the cost? What is the ultimate mission? How great is the danger at home? A pall has fallen over the Senate Chamber. We avoid our solemn duty to debate the one topic on the minds of all Americans, even while scores of thousands of our sons and daughters faithfully do their duty in Iraq.
What is happening to this country? When did we become a nation which ignores and berates our friends? When did we decide to risk undermining international order by adopting a radical and doctrinaire approach to using our awesome military might? How can we abandon diplomatic efforts when the turmoil in the world cries out for diplomacy?
Why can this President not seem to see that America's true power lies not in its will to intimidate, but in its ability to inspire?
War appears inevitable. But, I continue to hope that the cloud will lift. Perhaps Saddam will yet turn tail and run. Perhaps reason will somehow still prevail. I along with millions of Americans will pray for the safety of our troops, for the innocent civilians in Iraq, and for the security of our homeland. May God continue to bless the United States of America in the troubled days ahead, and may we somehow recapture the vision which for the present eludes us.
Posted by patrick at 11:01 PM | Comments (2)
March 17, 2003
English nerd, bored, or both?
As anybody who remembers the early days of video games can attest, many of them were shipped over here from Japan with translations in the documentation and game text itself which were laughably bad. The introduction text from Zero Wing [printed below] was some of the worst, and the poorly-worded "All your base are belong to us" took on a life of its own.
In A.D. 2101
War was beginning.
Captain: What happen ?
Mechanic: Somebody set up us the bomb.
Operator: We get signal.
Captain: What !
Operator: Main screen turn on.
Captain: It's You !!
Cats: How are you gentlemen !!
Cats: All your base are belong to us.
Cats: You are on the way to destruction.
Captain: What you say !!
Cats: You have no chance to survive make your time.
Cats: HA HA HA HA ....
Captain: Take off every 'zig' !!
Captain: You know what you doing.
Captain: Move 'zig'.
Captain: For great justice.
Breathtaking, no? As I was reading “Oedipus the King” and “Antigone” with my senior World Literature students, it occurred to me that Zero Wing’s intro text was a timeless masterpiece—and, as such, could probably work as a shell for summarizing Greek tragedies. Behold!
Oedipus the King
In B.C. 1000
Plague was beginning.
Oedipus: What happen?
Apollo: Somebody sexed up us the mom.
Creon: We get oracle.
Oedipus: What!
Creon: Tiresias turn on.
Oedipus: It's You!!
Tiresias: How are you gentleman!!
Tiresias: All your fates are belong to us.
Tiresias: You are on the way to destruction.
Oedipus: What you say !!
Tiresias: You have no chance to survive make your time.
Tiresias: HA HA HA HA ....
Oedipus: Take out every 'eye'!!
Creon: You know what you doing?
Oedipus: Remove 'eye'
Oedipus: For divine justice!
Antigone
In BC 980
War was ending.
Chorus: What happen?
Creon: Polynices set up us the bomb.
Chorus: We get oracle.
Captain: What!
Antigone: I disobey Creon.
Captain: It's You!!
Greek Gods: How are you gentleman!!
Greek Gods: All your corpse are belong to us.
Tiresias: You are on the way to destruction.
Creon: What you say!!
Tiresias: You have no chance to survive make your time
Antigone: HA HA HA HA ....
Captain: Take out every 'niece'!
Haemon: You know what you doing!
Creon: Move 'niece'
Creon: For late justice!
Posted by patrick at 01:28 AM | Comments (1)
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, all! Not only is it my 25th birthday today, it’s a day when three separate circles on the Cosmic Venn Diagram—Irish, Catholic, and alcoholic—all shift into perfect alignment to form one boozy, green sphere. I was excited about the prospect of thousands of people peeing blue today, until I remembered that yellow and blue make green; green and yellow don’t, unfortunately enough, make blue. I suppose I’ll have to content myself with folks peeing chartreuse.
According to legend, one of St. Patrick’s achievements was to drive all the snakes from Ireland.
“What snakes?” you’re mumbling to yourself.
Exactly.
In keeping with my namesake’s noble history of pest control, I would like to announce my very first birthday miracle. As of 12:01 a.m. on March 17, 2003, polar bears will no longer plague the citizens of Riverside County. You might be wondering why I chose to banish polar bears, of all things. You might even doubt that polar bears pose a threat to any town in the Inland Empire, where summers are intolerable and the weather permits snow about once in a person’s lifetime.
That, my friend, is exactly what the polar bears want you to think.
Sure, they look harmless enough. Lumbering, benign beasts to whose enclosure children might flock at the zoo. Anthropomorphic spokesman of everyone’s perennial favorite, the Icee. In reality, every polar bear is nothing less than hundreds of pounds of brutal, arctic death. In banishing the polar bears, I have also erased every sign of their being there. Within a matter of weeks, it’ll be as if they were never even here.
Tune in on March 17, 2004, when I top this year’s feat by expelling tsetse flies and piranhas from the Santa Ana River!
Posted by patrick at 12:22 AM | Comments (0)
March 06, 2003
"Is our children learning?"
I’ve been lax about updating the journal lately, thanks to a glut of English essays I had to grade ASAP. Each time I go through a round of essays for either my seniors or sophomores, I cull out the best of the worst to share with them in class (anonymously, of course). We all have a good laugh at their shared foolishness, and maybe—just maybe—somebody refrains from making a few of those sorts of mistakes on future essays.
If you’ve read “Oedipus Rex” and/or “Antigone,” these essay bloopers will amuse you on a variety of levels. If not, you’ll just have to content yourself with the typos, grammatical errors, and occasional “what the hell is this?” Remember, folks: These are honest-to-goodness mistakes made by genuine 17- and 18-year-olds. Within a matter of months, these are the people who will be fixing your brakes, handling your food, installing your hot water heater, babysitting your children, and making change for you.
Below are a few samples. Click on the extended journal entry link for the whole list.
Misspellings & general confusion: By attempting to kill off the problem (Laius killing Oedipus) only sealed the fate of the family and ensued the anger of the goods.
Those damn Pisces: Creon was a bad man because he was really self-fish and he wanted thing to be his way.
Rogue apostrophes: As is displayed in Sophocles’ two plays, the gods have a leading role in the determination of their worshipers lives.
Lethal flippancy: This headache of a paper will be about my careless opinion on how Oedipus was fated to kill his father and fall in love with his mother.
Confused gender roles: At the end of the play, Oedipus is left a widow after Jocasta’s suicide and horribly blind.
Huh?: Her brothers declared war on themselves and killed each other.
From a John Deere letter: One of the sons named Polynices’ was found out to be a tractor and was left out to die and be basically disrespected.
The eyes are running around?: Later he finds Jocasta has hung herself and Oedipus pulls the pins from her robe and stabs his own eyes, causing them to bleed while running through the palace asking to be exiled.
I thought marrying your mom was bad enough: I would have of done the same thing if not worse.
Talkin’ Creon…and on…and on…: Before in the first play he was a kick back guy who had the power as a King has but without the responsibility and now since he’s the King he’s getting all power crazy by the way he can kill anyone he wants so now he’s like you die, you died, and you die like it nothing.
Huh? Part II: Creon and Ismene could not even come between Antigone because nothing was going to change her mind or her beliefs.
Oedipus was not at fault for killing his father and then marring his father because he killed the winged lion.
In the two Greek stories Oedipus the King and Antigone had a great tragic ending that couldn’t have gone any worse.
Not knowing that it was him.
When Oedipus and his mother married they had four children.
In a war against Polynices and Etocles both of them die.
Did Oedipus have to marry Jocasta; he could have avoided this if he was more careful.
He found out about his prophecy to kill his father, and marry his mother, so to escape this fate, he ran away from Corinth, and the parents he thought was his blood parents.
In the end Oedipus finds out that he was the one who killed the king before him and the same person was his father. To add more to his corrupted life, he then married his mother Jocasta.
Many people in the present day, with that kind of history, would probably turn to drugs or depression to relieve their pressures of reality and of day to day situations.
Having her dad turn out to be her half brother as well and on top of that loosing both of her brothers in the war.
Much like Oedipus, Antigone (character ins Jean Anouilh’s, “Antigone”) is one who deserves great favor as well as sympathy also.
Oedipus was faded to kill his father, Laius and marry his mother, Jocasta, therefore much of his life went beyond his control.
It all started When their was this royal couple named Laius and Jocasta.
Than he continued on with hid journey and somehow became the King of Themes and the Queen was his mother Jocasta, so he ended up marrying his mother too.
When he receives the news that both of the brother had died in that war he announces that Polynices was the one who is getting buried because he was not a trader
[Student’s Last Name] (3)
and was fighting for the city of Thebes and since Etocles which was trader, is not going to be buried.
Therefore, he felt he had to run away in order to escape the future prediction, in other words his was trying trick his faith, his future.
Now at the time Oedipus did not know that this King and his new wife were his real parents, but they were.
But I probably would have of just killed my self because it would have of been less painful and that way I just put my self out of my own misery.
The town in the story agreed with Antigone, the reaction received from them was like, what, we are going to do what.
Oedipus surviving and being raised by the king and queen of Corinth was all part of his destiny. Nothing he did was pre-determined.
Its tuff to see your family go but when you have an empire to rule, which is another family, and money to spend you’re all of the sudden not on the bottom of the totem pole.
When he ran from Corinth and returned to Thebes, the place where he was born, is really crazy.
If my brother died and my other brother, who killed him, did not want to bury him, we would fight.
So his lack of control would defiantly have to justify himself.
Oedipus killed a man, the man being his real father, and is guilty of killing a man. Regardless whether he knew it was his father or not.
She also gives reasons that Polynices is her brother, for whom she only had two and she could only have two because both of her parents were dead.
Antigone is also pressured to marry Haemon and she finds that she cannot be happy enough; she then gets arrested and is ordered to die young.
He just did not know who was his birth parents.
The story following Oedipus, involves Creon and Oedipus’s daughter, Antigone.
The responsibility of an action always lies upon the executioner.
By not giving the proper burial of a diseased human is suggesting that the person is not worth the burial, that their life was worthless and insignificant.
If Oedipus did not kill his father and marry his mother, Oedipus would not have condemned himself, remaining king, averting the feud amongst his sons, stopping the feud between Antigone and Creon, thus creating a less dissonant Thebes.
Oedipus’s father and mother gave birth to him, and the oracle at the time told them that Oedipus was destined to kill his father and marry his mother.
In an act to bury her brother Antigone tries to bury her brother.
Rather than solving the problem, it causes a more greater problem by having Antigone and other characters kill themselves.
Oedipus scarified his own ability to see to suffer for the consequences of his actions but the dramatic thing was that it was not his fault someone who thought they were so mighty wanted to do such a horrible thing to an innocent guy.
Even though he is somewhat all powerful, he has no right to even think about killing his own father and to get with his own mother, and on top of all that, have children with his mother as well.
Antione tries to explain to Ismene that the sprite will walk around unhappy and will haunt them for not barriering it. Creon’s whole point for putting a laws against move the body form were it is at is, Creon fells Polynices was a trader, that he was traitorous and leaving the body there was an example.
I personally would sympathize more with Oedipus than Antigone.
It was told by the ancient profits that the boy would kill his own father and marry his mother.
Of course Oedipus did all these things out of his own free will not knowing of the predictions, but it is my opinion that you cant outrun fait.
It may seem like that in the beginning, but as the plot developes more and more, surprises and twists pop out all over, all in the end that just make you wanna throw up.
On the other hand, his two sons Thebes and Polynices are very smart and don’t have the same instinct like they’re dad, because if they did, they wouldn’t be dead; probably.
Another reason was that by the end of the play, his son along with his wife were all dead.
In going out to fulfill his prophecy, Oedipus kills a man which he was angered by, that man was his father who was also the king.
Through what she went through, in the end Antigone drove herself over the edge and in the end ended up killing herself.
Once Creon finds out that the God’s are on Antigone’s side he decides to not kill her but to kill the traitor Polynices.
I am just very sympathetic for people who make one mistake and it destroys their enter life because I know that could happen to me and has happened to me, one decision I have made messed all my plans up a couple of times.
A lot of people probley would also feel this way because you cant be in charge of your own faith ever and this story is just simply saying you cant try and change you faith all you want but in most cases you faith is you faith and its going happen to you no matter what you do to stop it.
Since the Antigone’s brother betrayed his people, he still deserves to have a proper burial.
Posted by patrick at 12:16 AM | Comments (1)