My view on Persepolis without a beer

Persepolis is an interesting novel in itself, more like an interesting concept in itself. Take one part coming of age story, one part graphic novel, one part 1984/Stalinist/Maoist regime and toss it in a blender. Results are in, drum roll please, and the blend equals this novel. Could this tale be told without the use of comic book panels and word bubbles, of course. Now would this make it a better story. NO! There are too many books that go into someone's life that have been written without the use of visual aids. Bring on the graphic novel, it makes it easier to read and frankly more fun. We get to see it and read it and not just have our over stimulated brains attempt to fill it with pictures of kittens with guns. (Don’t ask) So the visuals help make or break the story and in this case, delicious thought of beer are overridden with Iranian officials acting as if they belonged in Orwell’s novel 1984.

Her age does affect the story a bit. If this was a 21 year old rehashing events in their life through a graphic novel there would be death lots of explosion and tons of gore, all to distract you away from the story which from an older perspective might seem tired and boring. But told from a pre-teen point of view readers get to see what she wants us to see and how she reacts to everything that is changing in her life. In other words readers get to see her grow

As for Marji being the main character yes. Is this a memoir? Yes most likely, just in a different form then most of us are used to. But I think the story is more about what is happening in Iran then about her life. In some parts it seems a little “Anne Frank-ish.” But the narrator’s life at times is overshadowed by what is going on with the country, or maybe there so intermixed like a good long island that you can’t tell the difference between the story and the flavors of booze. (Thanks goodness ‘cause whoever came up with the taste of gin should be hung from their thumbs and roasted alive).

As for changes in the novel Marji matures, she becomes rebellious to her parents and to the oppressive government. She becomes older, duh, but she also gains a sense of what is going on in the country and how’s it’s having an impact on the rest of the world. Overall it’s a fun read that kept me sober for the most of the time.

Song/video for the day Captain Dan-7 seas

(It's pirate rap!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCO2kBjsuFc

Why Ladies of Grace Adieu"made me want to drink more....

Let's see why I thought this piece sucked. First off I do not consider this piece to be anything close to fantasy, we have the mention of magic and the girls turn into owls. Well how is that interesting where are the epic battles and wizards blasting each other with fireballs, where are the alternate dimensions where dogs and cats talk and act like humans, when in reality they dine of human flesh? Where are the beautiful princesses that need to be rescued by a drunken knight in tarnished armor with a broken sword riding a goat instead of a horse?

If this is fantasy, Tolkien is probably rolling over in his grave, threatening to come back and eat our brains. for reading something that is the furthest thing from fantasy. I couldn't get into the story there was no hook and it felt awkward trying to sympathize with the characters.

So the parts which really sucked the beginning, the middle, and the end. There was little use of magic or mention of magic, the British call their wizards magicians, what the hell does that mean some sort of cheap guy on stage making rabbits pop out of his hat and sawing people in half just
for entertainment, now that's a musician. If they really wanted to escape these men they should have turned them into frogs and tortured them, or better yet blasted them with some cool curse or spell running their lives forever.

The only part I liked is when the turned into owls. But the dialogue would have better better if one of the girls, had turned into a dragon ate or burnt the other two ladies and had the three men for dessert.

Well I'm off too enjoy a few beers and read some fantasy about dragon slaying or gnome killing or dwarf bashing or something like that.

I decided to steal this from Carney Monoxide and post a video/song for the day. It will either fit the subject matter of the blog or just be random as hell.

So here it is Limp Bizkit-"My Way."

I'm out. so enjoy a cold one on me and remember writing this bad only makes you want to drink more.

Today assingment's or rather my attempt at them.

Alright, I'll admit I was hungover this morning, I blame my roommate. But here I go with one of the wonderful in class assignments we had. Also I didn't do prompt number 2 but I did 1 and 3.

The first prompt after looking out the window and deciding there wasn't that much to write about in the first place.

1. Student in an orange coat shuffles along the gravel-studded path among displaced red, brick buildings. His staggered steps show his regard for the ice and snow dominating the beaten footpaths. His thoughts are not of his exam in 10 minutes but of his current hangover which plagues him like bad breath making rational thinking impossible.

3rd prompt:

After hearing the news he walked outside. The sun had punched though the black cloud cover warming those who embraced it on this normally gloomy day. The red bricks of the building glistened with the beckoning light, causing it to ripple across the windows of the next to kin structures. I breathe the slightly chilled air feeling the embracing heat from the sun, getting me ready for the rest of my life.

Never Let me go and the children

A few questions to look at , Is it ethical to create and raise children to donate their organs?

Why don't the students question what's going on rather than accepting it?

In the way of ethics, well it's a difficult thing. I just finished The Island and the same question was asked. Now the people in the move are clones who are raised to have their organs harvested. They live simple lives with no knowledge of the outside world; all they want to do is work hard and escape to the island. Now what about the children in the book, they have lives sort of. They learn, have relationships, and grow old. They know they are donors.

So is this right or wrong? Is someone playing god here? Technically yes and no, I’m under the impression that lives down the road are going to be saved and no one is complaining. But in the case of myself I don’t really care. Since the children are clones, then I think it’s ethical. It’s sort of like stem cell research, the stem cells are not really living people, they aren’t full grown. If it’s going to better the world somehow, just do it. And for this discussion, I’m not involving GOD or religion because that is a one sided battle that’s just going to piss me off and make me want to drink some beer.

Why don't the students question what's going on rather than accepting it?

Well they have been created for this. This is the only place they know, the only idea they know, and they are kept in isolation. Exposure to the outside world is limited. Young kids are impressionable, so from the very beginning they are brainwashed. They don’t know anything else. I’m sure if one of them gets curios they are shipped out to a new facility or they are killed, maybe eaten.

Why is there so much emphasis on sex?

I don’t know cause the author is a pervert. Maybe sex has to do with free-will and expression. Maybe it can show everyone the clones are people.

Something I'm not proud of....

I sit here, locked away in my study. I refuse to go out, tale any calls. My servant brings my tray of food twice a day and leaves it outside my door. For months no one has known I’ve been here, hiding, tucked away, waiting for my day again. I have done some terrible, so terrible I cannot even bear to mention it.

Angry mobs gathered outside my place of work and at my home. I was called a “Monster.” “A Demon-spawned soul sucker.” Instead of fixing the world, I was only dooming the world as a whole.

What have I brought upon this world? I have brought ruin and destruction to all. Societies will crumble, life, as we know it will case to exist. Families will be divided; turn asunder, never to be the same again. Brothers will be pitted against each other.

And they said the “Great War” was the war to end all wars. They said that was a horror stricken tragedy that the world must never go through again. And here we sit on the brink of another life changing, world transforming even, one that will fill the skies with darkness.

I, Philo Farnsworth have done the worse thing a man could do. I have invented the television, a talking, squawking black box that has replaced the TV. Families no longer eat together. Brothers and Sisters fight over who gets to watch what. Our children are taking things from television that is making them morally corrupt. They are failing at their schoolwork

The world is coming to end, no longer will people of earth have the social skills to meet and greet one another. Our only forms of communication will flow out something with vacuum tubes. Could this get any worse? I peer out of my house looking down into the streets, and wonder what have I done. Oh yes, this did get worse, as soon as Cable TV became readily available for the masses. And the Internet, don’t get me started on that. …

A poem....

Alright I saw a few poems posted so here's mine from a class last semester. And yes its free verse

Heading back

Long winding roads break and weave,

thoughts of what this school year will bring.

Sunny summer days have fallen to autumn nights.

My trunk bulges with gear, clothes and books.

Everything is packed.

My tattered “Wolf pack” sweatshirt dangles

from an over stuffed crate.

Faded signs flash by on the road

“Welcome to NMU, home of the Wolf pack.”

I look out as the pavement zips by.

Wolves have run through

splattering the pavement with painted paws.

The colored paws beckon and point me home.

It’s not far.

College-bound cars rush by, competing for lanes.

Our pack stays steady, weaving in and out.

Scenery evolves, desert hills transform as

tall trees crest the horizon.

The smell of green pines penetrates the nostrils.

The road winds, hills heave up and down.

Anticipation to go home,

like a wolf stalking its prey.

The radio plays a welcomed distraction from the tiring drive.

Suddenly I see the car in front hit the brakes.

They slide left and jerk right.

With a loud bang I slam into their bumper and swerve off and down the incline,

flipping and rolling, splitting bushes.

Crumpled rock meets crumpled metal, bouncing and spinning.

The world heaves,

textbooks fly out of the shattered windows,

My forehead cracks against the steering wheel.

Blood obscures my vision as night comes early.

Like a wolf pack nearing the kill, college bound cars circle their wounded prey.

Waiting.

Poetry...best read drunk or not at all

Since I am a creative writing major someone decided along the way that all creative writing majors should have to take at least one poetry class, which includes reading and writing it. That's a terrible idea, 98.2% of the creative writing majors here are prose, meaning fiction and non-fiction writers. Poetry makes us run in terrot. I mean there are a few poets that I like, Lord Alfred Tennyson and Edgar Allan Poe make my list of decent poets, William Blake's poems may be tough to stomach and understand but the dark over tones make it an interesting read even if I have no idea what's going on. But most of the modern stuff we are forced to read made me want to drown myself in a sea of ice beer, and not good ice beer either, at the time I was drinking Mickey's Ice which tastes like the end of a sewage drain.

Poetry is tough thing to swallow. Sometimes you can never understand what the author wants you to interpret from their writing. Sometimes it's amazing and other times its a jumble of words that makes no sense. Sometimes poetry can amaze you and make you go wow! Other times it will make you want to put a gun to your head in frustration. Been there many times, take that Coleridge and Frost! Just kidding... Poetry can mean whatever you want it to mean whether the author likes it or not. My preference if you are going to make us take poetry classes, make it simple and encourage free verse. Rhyme and Rhythm only bring frustration to the masses.

As for Chapbooks (I had to go look that word up thank you very much), a pocket sized book or a Hallmark card? Well the cards are cheesy, and cranked out by a bunch of Monkeys in an underground cave, then I'll have to take the pocket sized book of poetry known as a chapbook. Also I tend to stay away from the sappy, love sick poems. Ick.

Well its Thursday and I'm off to have a few beers somewhere.