There was a point in my early childhood when my grandmother passed away. I didn’t know her well because my mother didn’t want us to see her. It wasn’t either of their faults. My grandmother was insane, legitimately insane; she did things like talk to the radio and play tennis on her couch. But she died and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I could tell my mother was sad obviously. I was sad but not really sad like you should be when you lose a relative. Its like trying to cry over someone you’ve never heard of dying. Plenty of people die everyday. I don’t cry for every one of them nobody does and nobody is even really sad about it. they might say that but really they aren’t. Anyway the funeral recession was at my mothers’ house. All these funeral peopled filed in started eating, talking. Now my grandmother lived in the mountains of Appalachia and so did the people who were currently in my house. They told each other stories about my grandmother and the room was filled with stimulating conversation and laughter. I decided not to take part in this laughter seeing as if I couldn’t be sad at this event it would be respectful not to laugh and have a cheerful time. I decided to sit on one of the folding chairs lining the walls. Coincidentally I was sitting one chair over from a man who had a blank expressionless face. He held a cane and wore sunglasses. I could tell he was blind. However what I did not know was that he was also the priest of the church that all these people attended. He said “Hello?” wondering about the sudden noise of me sitting in a chair. “Hi” I responded. He continued saying “I don’t recognize your voice.” I proceeded to tell him that I currently resided in this house and that this was my grandmothers’ funeral. He said “You don’t seem to sad for one who has just had such a loss.” I told him that I didn’t know my grandmother well enough to be sad at her death and I thought it would be respectful not to be to happy so here I was talking to him. “I see.” He said following this statement with a deep ponderous pause. “You know” he finally said, “Do you know why I don’t do funerals?” “Why” I said playing along expecting a typical answer, but to my surprise he returned with. “ Its because I’m never sad.” At a loss for words and my mouth slightly agape he continued, “Is death really that bad? Either you go to heaven as I know your grandmother would or nothing. Its just like sleeping now neither one of those is to bad is it.” Without waiting for me to answer he continued. “So I think you should go and listen to some stories.” Following his advice I got up with a new understanding of life and death. I listened to various stories about my grandmother and had an overall good time at the funeral. I went to bed thinking about this statement neither really was that bad was it? With that though in my mind I went to bed casting my mind off into a place that really wasn’t that bad.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
WA 1 Draft 2
There was a point in my early childhood when my grandmother passed away. I didn’t know her well because my mother didn’t want us to see her. It wasn’t either of their faults. My grandmother was insane, legitimately insane; she did things like talk to the radio and play tennis on her couch. But she died and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I could tell my mother was sad obviously. I was sad but not really sad like you should be when you lose a relative. Its like trying to cry over someone you’ve never heard of dying. Anyway the funeral recession was at my mothers’ house. All these funeral peopled filed in started eating, talking. Now my grandmother lived in the mountains of Appalachia and so did the people who were currently in my house. They told each other stories about my grandmother and the room was filled with stimulating conversation and laughter. I decided not to take part in this laughter seeing as if I couldn’t be sad at this event it would be respectful not to laugh and have a cheerful time. I decided to sit on one of the folding chairs lining the walls. Coincidentally I was sitting one chair over from a man who had a blank expressionless face. He held a cane and wore sunglasses. I could tell he was blind. However what I did not know was that he was also the priest of the church that all these people attended. He said “Hello?” wondering about the sudden noise of me sitting in a chair. “Hi” I responded. He continued saying “I don’t recognize your voice.” I proceeded to tell him that I currently resided in this house and that this was my grandmothers’ funeral. He said “You don’t seem to sad for one who has just had such a loss.” I told him that I didn’t know my grandmother well enough to be sad at her death and I thought it would be respectful not to be to happy so here I was talking to him. “I see.” He said following this statement with a deep ponderous pause. “You know” he finally said, “Do you know why I don’t do funerals?” “Why” I said playing along expecting a typical answer, but to my surprise he returned with. “ Its because I’m never sad.” At a loss for words and my mouth slightly agape he continued, “Is death really that bad? Either you go to heaven as I know your grandmother would or nothing. Its just like sleeping now neither one of those is to bad is it.” Without waiting for me to answer he continued. “So I think you should go and listen to some stories.” Following his advice I got up with a new understanding of life and death. I listened to various stories about my grandmother and had an overall good time at the funeral.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
WA 1 Draft 1
When I was young I don’t know when my grandmother died. I didn’t know her well because my mother didn’t want us to see her. It wasn’t either of their faults my grandmother was insane, legitimately insane; she did things like talk to the radio and play tennis on her couch. But she died and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I could tell my mother was sad obviously. I was sad but really sad like you should be when you lose a relative. Its like trying to cry over someone you’ve never heard of dying. Anyway the funeral recession was at my mothers’ house. All these funeral peopled filed in started eating, talking. Now my grandmother lived in the mountains of Appalachia and so did the people who were currently in my house. They told each other stories about my grandmother and the room was filled with stimulating conversation and laughter. I decided not to take part in this laughter seeing as if I couldn’t be sad at this event it would be respectful not to laugh and have a cheerful time. I decided to sit on one of the folding chairs lining the walls. Coincidentally I was sitting one chair over from a man who had a blank expressionless face. He held a cane and wore sunglasses. I could tell he was blind. However what I did not know was that he was also the priest of the church that all these people attended. He said “Hello?” wondering about the sudden noise of me sitting in a chair. “Hi” I responded. He continued saying “I don’t recognize your voice.” I proceeded to tell him that I currently resided in this house and that this was my grandmothers funeral. He said “You don’t seem to sad for one who has just had such a loss.” I told him that I didn’t know my grandmother well enough to be sad at her death and I thought it would be respectful not to be to happy so here I was talking to him. “I see.” He said following this statement with a deep ponderous pause. “You know” he finally said “Do you know why I don’t do funerals?” “Why” I said playing along expecting a typical answer, but to my surprise he returned with “ Its because I’m never sad.” At a loss for words and my moth slightly agape he continued, “Is death really that bad? Either you go to heaven as I know your grandmother would or nothing. Its just like sleeping now neither one of those is to bad is it.” Without waiting for me to answer he continued. “So I think you should go and listen to some stories.” Following his advice I had a god time at the funeral.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Animal Farm Essay
Michael Santulli
9/12/08
English Essay
In the novel Animal Farm the government starts and ends in almost the exact same place. The government goes through many changes in the bulk of the story. These changes include dictatorship to communism, which is slowly twisted before the animals even realize or are two ignorant to become more and more corrupt. This corrupt communism soon reverts back to a dictatorship.
In the beginning of the novel Mr. Jones, the original owner of the farm, represents an irresponsible inconsistent and overall poor leader. Mr. Jones represents Czar Nicholas II. His rules is equivalent to a dictatorship specifically the deteriorating Russian dictatorship. The animals ban together to run Mr. Jones of the farm after being inspired by Old Major, a pig who dreams of an ideal society. Old Major represents Carl Marks the father of communism an author of The Communist Manifesto. This revolt represents the Russian Revolution and is led by two pigs Napoleon and Snowball, Stalin and Trotsky. These two pigs end the dictatorship rule of Mr. Jones creating a new communist society where all is equal and everything is shared.
As this new system of government continues to mature it is confronted with its first real challenges. Issues such as work, and rations predominantly when the pigs steal the milk and apples claiming they hate the taste but have to eat them as “brain food”. This is one of the first instances of corruption in the government. Already the reader can tell that the government is being slowly but surely twisted by corrupted leadership. Additionally when the puppies are stolen by Napoleon without question the vanity and ignorance of the animals, Russia’s people, really begins to show. There are good thing going on at this point for instance meetings and reciting of “The Beasts of England” the anthem of the farm. They also change the name from Manor Farm to Animal Farm, making a flag and writing the seven commandments on the side of the barn showing that they have completely abandoned the old government liberating themselves entirely. The event that really throws the government out of Communism is the expulsion of Snowball. The government is now lead by one, Napoleon, and he is free to twist it as he likes. This government is now a dictatorship but it does not admit to that.
The Government of Animal Farm becomes more and more corrupt. When boxer is killed it is liked a piece of every animal on the farm went with him. In addition the pigs separate themselves from the other animals by doing things such as moving into the house, drinking copious amounts of alcohol and changing the commandment from “All animals are equal” to “All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.” The removal of meetings and making Sundays “optional” workdays shows that the revolution is dying even more and the old ways are returning. When the pigs change the name of the farm back to Manor farm it shows that they openly have given up in the communist system of brotherhood. Finally when the pigs are seen walking upright with the men it proves that the pigs have become in essence men, the exact thing that they have been fighting for two years. Now the Government has gone full circle back to dictatorship.
The Government of Animal farm started off on the right track but was destined never to get far off the ground. As long as there were pigs controlling the government it couldn’t resist corruption. Ultimately the government never went anywhere but a point was proven. It only takes a few corrupt leaders to destroy a political system from the inside out.