shadow

Here is a poem that I created based on a photograph of a shadow from a nuclear bomb at Hiroshima:

I am frozen in time,

Secured by the light

Blotted by the soot,

And gone by night

I am lost from reality,

I've escaped from life

Devoured by a gruesome death,

Fueled by international strife

I am still in the shadows,

I am unable to grow

This is no mortal grave,

On this wall, my death shows

which is which?

This is an account of Septermber 11th, 2001 from the point of view of Amanda Cox and Sarah Kelsey...you've got to wonder which story belongs to each of us. 

I got up for school just like any other day. I hardly remember what I did upon waking back then. I'm sure I had a routine similar to the one I have now, but I can't be sure. It's funny, most people have vivid memories of that day, but mine aren't as clear. It's a contrast that I haven't really been able to explain but it's there. I do have smaller chunks that I remember from that day but they are only pieces. The entire puzzle of 911 is still a mystery. I remember getting on the bus and having one of my friends tell me that a helicopter crashed into the world trade center. To be honest, I had never even heard of the World Trade Center before, let alone that there were two. I don't even remember who told me about the helicopter rumor.. pretty sad, I know. When I finally got to my first hour class, the news was on, but then, the teachers were told to turn the televisions off. I remember wanting to just watch TV, but we weren't allowed. It was almost like they (being the teachers and administration) were trying to shield us from the crash--like if we didn't see it, maybe it didn't happen. To this day, I'm not sure what the reason was behind keeping the news off during the time allotted for news watching. Oh well, I'm sure they knew what they were doing. But wait, didn't the airlines think they were safe? And what about the government? Didn't think they could stop an attack before it occurred in this day and age? Well, after staying up much later than I should have with my dad to watch the planes crash over and over and over again, I concluded that we had no idea what were doing. We still don't know what we're doing. I don't know if we will ever truly know.

From the moment I awoke that morning something was different. It could've been that the radio station I normally woke up to wasn't playing music, or it could be because my parents wouldn't get out of bed when I told them. Either way, it was a morning that I couldn't forget. Twelve years old and I ran downstairs to turn on the TV as I ate breakfast. All of that fire was frightening but it was even more alarming when my father told me they wouldn't fall, and they did. I went to school and it was like it never happened. Sure, there weren't a lot of kids there but we weren't allowed to watch the news so I wondered if it was really a big deal. Half of me imagined it over and done with as soon as I went to school but I had a feeling more details would surface as the day went on. I went home from school and watched the news with my mom straight until 11pm.After the events of the day I went to my computer and printed as many stories and photos about the day a I could. I knew it was a pivotal day in American history, yet I didn't realize that I would be engraved in our minds and allover the Internet for many years to come.

No More

Here is a song by Eddie Vedder titled, "No More." This video captures Vedder's performance but also follows the journey of an Iraqi war veteran.

No More 

In forums such as think.mtv.com, songs and music videos such as this are most effective. I think that the news and reports of war can be overwhelming, hopeless, and chaotic to those who are just becoming their own and realizing the world around them. This music video brings to light the tragedy of war through a simple, yet somewhat peaceful song that speaks to those who cannot grip the massive collaboration of war-torn events that are occuring overseas. 

NUMA NUMA Homophonic Translation!

Here is a homophonic translation of the NUMA NUMA song. Its a song adored by our generation but no one really knows what the heck they are saying. I think it is Romanian but some sources conflict on the actual origin of the song...

link to the video:  NUMA NUMA

Hello, salute, sink yell, whom hide it

she tore all you beer a mall prime mesh there very cheer a

hello, hello, sink yell Picasso

time that beep, she seen boy neat boo dear seige tea notes Cher knee meek

raise a please car new man new man yay

new man new man yay new man new man new man yay

key pull tow she dragon tin say, my mint eskimo okay tea hay

raise a please car new man new man hay

new man new man hay  new man new man new man hay

key pull tow she dragon tin say, my mint eskimo okay tea hay

the spoon, set spoon, cheese set, hat womb

hello, you beer a mall, sent yell, very cheer a

hello, hello, sink year shee oh, Picasso

team that beep, she seen voyage moon car seige tea notes Cher knee meek

raise a please car new man new man yay

new man new man yay new man new man new man yay

key pull tow she dragon tin say, my mint eskimo okay tea hay

raise a please car new man new man yay

new man new man ya new man new man new man yay

key pull tow she dragon tin say, my mint eskimo okay tea hay

in class 4/17

Stairway to Heaven.

Battle of Chancellorsville

This photograph is from the battle of Chancelorsville near Fredericksburg, VA on May 2nd, 1863. Here is the link to an article about this battle:

www.nps.gov/history/hps/abpp/battles/va032.htm

This photograph depicts wounded soldiers sitting, standing, or lying on the ground during the Civil War Battle of Chancellorsville. At first glance, one may notice the intriguing focal point of the photo; the giant tree. The frame of this photo places the trunk of this tree almost in the center of the photograph, and the men scatter around it. The soldiers, many of whom are injured, are in disarray and scattered about the foreground. There are also soldiers in the background but it is interesting to notice that these soldiers are not in focus. Some significance can possibly be placed on the fact that on the soldiers in the foreground are in focus. The symmetry of the wooden boards in the foreground contrast the confusion of limbs and injuries throughout the photograph. The emotions on the faces of the men are very stern and sincere, and in some cases, they tell their injuries through their eyes. The angle of the photograph is very real in that it seems as if the photographer was just standing at a normal height when he took the picture so that it appears just as one would see it in real life. The solemn reality of injury and exhaustion from war can be told by the simplistic view that this photographer captured at the Battle of Chancellorsville. 

Power in Photography

On November 5th, 2006, Saddam Hussein was sentenced to death after being proven guilty of many crimes against humanity. One photograph captures the moment when Hussein was given the verdict.

The content of this photograph is simply a close up of Hussein and a mystery arm holding him back. This picture captures his expression as the center of the photograph. The theme of this photograph is a struggle for power between Hussein and the people he murdered and the judge and Hussein. The angle that the photographer took when capturing this photo was straight on. This is interesting because the verdict was also straight on: death. His face is unavoidable and so is his sentence. The background is a typical courtroom, symmetrical and very geometric. This contrasts with the foreground which is organic and rather chaotic. Also, the photograph is shallow because the lens seems to be close to Hussein- even the background isn't far away. This closeness to Hussein relates to his closeness to death. Framing in this photo is key; it focuses on Hussein and not on the person who is holding him back. 

The major source of power in this photograph is the subject. The expression that the subject conveys shows a struggle of power between Hussein and the rest of the world. 

Smoke Screen

In a chilling photograph by Mark Markov, many soldiers are trapped on two makeshift boats awaiting what may reside on the other side of the smoke screen. Although the view cannot see their facial expressions, their body language speaks. They hunch over, guns ready, cautiously approaching the possibility of an unforseen enemy. 

This photograph is captivating because of its stunning lack of color. The contrast between black and white gives a certain attention the natural light that is reflected off of the white cloud of smoke. Markov's point of view captures everything: the water, the boats, the men, the smoke. His vantage point is more than anyone present could have witnessed. The frame of this photograph is all-inclusive, however, it does not reveal what is on the other side of the smoke screen. This mystery of what lies beyond what the eye can see in the photograph allows for the content to be captivating and thought-provoking.  

This photograph proves that images can surpass the test of time, remaining much longer than the emotions felt by those few soldiers. They can be a solomn reminder of a time when they did not know what was behind that smoke screen, a chilling and uncertain era of long ago. They didn't know then, but they certainly know now. This photograph captured the beauty and the still of waiting for thier future to be revealed beyond the bright silt of the smoke screen. 

matt rotando's 104 blog

www.104aboutwar.blogspot.com

Dear U.S. citizens,

Dear Citizens of the United States of America,

You have no problem talking about war when it comes to video games. Sure, you are insensitive to death when you are "killing" each other with harsh words. You are passionate about the war on Global Warming and making efforts to preserve our planet. So how could you blatently ignore the most concrete form of war there is? Certainly, your minds are open and accepting of this idea of violence and death in war, for action movies wouldn't gross millions if this weren't the case.

In the classroom, many teachers are intrigued by the enigma of war and so conversations do exist about the war in Iraq. Teachers and students are inviting war into the learning process by making it the topic of conversation, of discussion, and of writing assignments. This is indeed a good way of presenting the topic of war, and it is generally a safe place to inquire about varying opinions and facts brought on by the war. But unfortunately, this discussion may only affect adolscence in history class, and those who are not presented with this opportunity inevitably miss out. One may wonder where they turn if they are hungry for the knowledge of overseas conflicts.

Unfortunately, those who do not discuss the war may turn to the internet, news, or newspapers for information about the war. Although many of these sources are reliable and worthy of time, plenty more are not and they often contradict many ideas. This proves to be functioning poorly and information about the war is often conveyed based upon assumptions or leaks in the government. What we need is one source whose primary role is reporting the war. Too many media forums are reporting too many different stories, and emphasis is not solely reserved for important and factual war updates. This could also reach more people if it coincided on the internet. If the information is easier to access and more easily understood, then hopefully conversation will flow.

These are merely suggestions, and they prove that although we have room for improvement in our dialog about war, the time to start communicating is now.

Sincerely,

Sarah Kelsey

Iraq Death Tolls...

Here is the link for the article I reviewed: http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/meast/04/01/iraq.main/index.html

 

This primary goal of this article is to sum up the death tolls that are accruing monthly in Iraq. Specifically, it focuses on the increase in deaths from February to March of 2008. It lists many figures of fatalities and compares them by month, year and civilians versus military. It also includes what is causing the deaths, and what many governments are doing to control the death toll.

 

This article solely rests on statistics of death in the current Iraq conflict. Since most of the article’s argument is concrete, it relies on facts to support the author’s point of view. Respectfully so, the author brings to light the many deaths that have potentially gone unnoticed. He attempts to overwhelm the reader by showing months where the death toll continues to rise, yet gives hope by comparing it to past trends of decreasing death tolls.  Furthermore, the author attributes the overall trend in US deaths since last year to Iraqi security forces becoming stronger, proving that he believes that the efforts put forth by the U.S. have been generally successful. He gives no mention to pulling the U.S. troops out of the war, but instead subtly mentions how situations are improving based on the decreasing death tolls and efforts by Iraqis. 

I don't remember...

I dont remember...

I don't remember why she wouldn't get up. I think it was the first time I saw her cry but I don't remember why. I don't remember what time of year it was, but she was probably a few months in. But looking back I realize the pain of death. 

I don't remember but neither does she. And its frustrating to me that she doesn't hold these memories for me when I couldn't. I guess it wasn't such a joyous time as my own mind recalls. It must have been terribly lonely and weathering to raise me but she doesn't remember.

I don't remember what he looked like. I don't remember what he said. He does, though. He remembers what I wore, what I said, what I acted like. He thinks it was pivotal but I don't remember. It wasn't important to me then. I am glad I don't remember because they pain would follow. I'd rather not remember but everytime he brings it up it pieces the story together in my mind. I guess I have learned my lesson never to be myself, never to let loose in a new crowd because you just dont know whose watching. Too bad I didn't remember that piece of advice that night. 

I remember.....

I remember...

I remember when green was all I could see. There was no gate in that house and it was always cloudy. The screeching metal pounded back and forth and a little chubby two-year old was my center. Sometimes he was evil and sometimes he was my favorite doll, but nonetheless I didn't love him near as much as I should've. Then there were huge planes, vomitting, sadness and meeting the desert all over again. I had been there before, but only distance memories of the inside walls shaking remained. Newness. Freshness. I resisted it. Ten years came and gone and I was still reserved about the whole situation. 

I remember her pain, her panic. It wasn't her. She screamed and cried and put all of the blame on my hero. She was selfish and relentless and I don't know why. It wasn't her, that happy girl, no it was someone else. I can remember confusion and doubt and fear that the same thing would take over me as well. I remember wondering about the future, how would I take care of her, how would I cousel her, how would I prevent her from doing the unthinkable. 

I remember my car breaking down, coming home late from school one day. So close to home yet it gave out and my frustration of this old beater was unleashed. I remember getting home and opening that letter. It was small, I thought. Too small to be good news. I remember that I didn't really care, I didn't want it that bad, I told myself. But I was right, it was bad news. My stomach wrenched and I couldn't control my sadness, disappointment, anger and bitterness and I vowed to contain this deep embarassing secret. I remember my parents could not counsel me but somehow I came out of that trance.

I remember being young and sweet and pure. I think I was fifteen, and I remember feeling the ultimate acceptance. I was a little nervous, sure, but it was the kind of nervous that you like to hold on to. Getting on that field I was waving my practiced wave, staring out into the crowd of supporters, even if they didn't love me. I was convinced then that I had not a care in the world nor a fault at my peers and I was happy. I thought I was beautiful but looking back on pictures my opinion has changed. It came as fast as it went.

I remember when we woke up that morning, nine years ago today, and my mom rolled out of bed and told us they were born. Two of them! One boy and one girl- precious little newborn babies that we had all been anticipating. They were little, but they were alive. I loved them more than any baby I had ever held, yet I had to wait a few months to meet them. I remember being so thrilled and loving the thought of twins. 

Homophonic translation... take two

key arrow pair a term and air

tae kwando its toy Alberto, celebrate daily violence

or yay no depict oh coral is on Carrie

a you dare a ray here okay sun rise

ponies there lay par armadillo Al malfunction plenty hookah

cue those infermeries indefinately

compare Al vendor

a you gargle a matter Al matter- coast terrible

why okay say era yo Sarah Gwen go con

its total

homophonic translation...

Lets Mall

Tangent cadets karate routes daily mid-trail

Silent pout the door par infinity do cieling blue

excelerates you vertical, present do Roy key rally

croquet lays batallions in mass dams of few

Tangent cocoon folly evaporatable broil

its fate devent milliliters honest juntas fumes

poke her wart! Dan is late, Dans lurking, Dan to joy nature oh to ha fists in homes sentiment

lest uh day, key write ox nap damnation

days ought to , a concern, ox grants calices door

key dans embarassment decorating endure

its revealed, quack days murals remain

Dans legacies ate plural soups lay vexed bonnet nor

louis dominant a gross sour lay dans lair mount choir!