Macbeth Multimedia Project

The essay is on its way.

The Lottery Ticket

In The Lottery Ticket, the protagonist and antagonist are very clear. Ivan is the clear protagonist, the story is also told from his point of view. The antagonist is Ivan's wife. In actuality, the both want the same thing, they just want them both for themselves. This will cause much conflict between the two. Ivan doesn't seem too happy with his current life. He is just satisfied, as if he is willing to live there, but craves something bigger and better. I think that towards the end of the story, when both he and his wife really started to not want to give it up, he wanted to kill her just so he could keep it all himself. She is probably thinking and planning the same thing. When it introduces the children into the story, it adds another dimension. It does this because they now have to think not just about themselves. If they spend all the money, their children will not have a happy life because they would not have work hard, and that would prevent them from getting a decent education to help them on later in life. Ivan is being a very selfish man. He decides at the end, that his life is not worth living and tells his wife that he is going to o hang himself on the first tree he finds. This is an act of extreme selfishness.

Sorry these all took so long.

The Leap

The mother in The Leap, is a very careful, precise woman even in her old age. From the story, she seems to be trying to forget her past. I think she is trying to forget her past because of the danger it posed to herself and her family. She lost her first husband because of their job as trapeze artists, while she was pregnant with her first child. If she is in pain she doesn't show it. I think she is a pretty stereotypical elderly woman, caring for her child and any grandchildren. The way the writer wrote this, it doesn't delve too deeply into the mother's thoughts and feelings which makes me believe that she keeps her own counsel. After reading this story, I think that the mother slightly blames herself for the death of her first husband and child. Although she went through much of her life illiterate, she fell in love with reading and writing when her second husband taught her in the hospital. She was never without a book after that, so she must have been very smart. Altogether, I think the mother will likely be her happiest after she has died.

Wing's Chips

There's not too much to say about the setting. At least I couldn't find much other than what I'm about to say.

The setting of this story is a major contributor to it. It is described as a small French-Canadian town. It also states that there is an English settlement near by. From the way this story is written, I can tell that it is not exactly modern, I would guess around pre-WW1 Quebec.  

Twins Questions

I wasn't sure if you wanted the questions or the plot analysis so I did both.

 Much like some actors want to experience the real pain of their characters to get into their role, the protagonist author sets up a scenario similar to that of the one in his newest murder mystery. The man asks his wife about how the perpetrator in his book would go about the perfect murder. Together they brainstorm how the murderer would entice the victim to the location, kill the victim, and how he could get off “scot-free.” They figure out the perfect crime. However, this was not just for inspiration; he actually wants to commit the crime that they have been discussing.

His wife; however, knew about his intents all along, and outmanoeuvred, outsmarted, and outgunned her husband. She used his story against him to get away with the murder that he had planned. In the end, his wife retaliated and followed his steps to a perfect crime to escape her marriage and change her life.

Questions:

1.

From the beginning, there were several key allusions to the conclusion. In the third paragraph, the word choice suggested a visceral, bloody image, simply from the use of the word claw. The remote, isolated mine is reminiscent of “The Blair Witch Project” and other such horror films, where something always goes wrong.

When she is questioning him on the method in which the villain would lure his victim out there, and the career path of the villain, his nonchalant responses set an alarm in my mind. Alarm bells rang because it was a little sketchy. It seems as if he is saying “I want to make sure I can kill you before I try to write about it.” when he says ““I want to make sure this works, then I can flesh it out.”” (Wright, 213).

There was one part I remember vividly; it said that they usually went to nice places, Palm Springs is something that I pictured as an example, as a base for the story he was writing at the time. The husband likes to “walk the plot” to ensure that it is believable and realistic, and she usually accompanies her to these nice places to offer advice. But when he suggests an out-of-place, unexpected trip to Sudbury, she was willing to travel there. She agreed to go up to cold, damp, dreary, Sudbury in the middle of October to offer a few pieces of advice on the story, which suggested she either really loved him, or more likely, made it seem like a few gears were turning. By this I mean, she was trying to get into his head and figure out why he was “off.”

3.

“In medias res” applies to the start of this story because the story starts in the middle. It does not start with “boy-meets-girl, they fall in love, they get married, he gets a mistress, he wants to kill his wife.” It just starts with the killing part. It starts right near the conflict. This is effective because it engages the reader much faster, placing them right in the situation and during the drama. The adrenaline of the situation seems to course through the story into the reader to entice me to read more, want more. The intrigue right off the bat caught my attention and captivated me. Starting in the middle, as Wright did, engaged me in a way that made me question the history of this couple and try to get more involved and invested in this story.

4

The story seems to change over on page 216, right after the husband pulls the trigger and shoots his wife. Until that point, the narrative style is specifically omnipotent in the way that the narrative is from a third person perspective that knows all, regarding this specific couple. After the gunshots, it switches to a more impartial view concerned strictly with the cold hard facts of what is happening. It doesn't go into as much detail and it doesn't elaborate on any of the ideas, the way the first half did. The first half felt more personal, revealing some thoughts of the characters while the second half was more detached and distant. The second half almost seems like a court transcription, or an excerpt from a detective's file on the case while the first half could be the actual account of what happened, from an omnipotent perspective.

I believe the author chose the contrasting styles to reinforce the law theme and to compare the before and after. The second half was all facts with little opinion and filler while the first half was more personal. These two separate parts really emphasized the death and crime that was committed to a very high degree of effectiveness.

Poet Analysis and Biography

Our poet was Ai. She describes herself as Japanese, Choctaw-Chickasaw, Black, Irish, Southern Cheyenne, and Comanche. She was born in Albany, Texas in 1947. She grew up in Tuscon, Arizona. She was raised in Las Vegas and San Francisco. She majored in Japanese at the University of Arizona. She immersed herself in Buddhism. Her name means “Love” in Japanese. She has won several awards including National Book Award for Poetry, for her book, Vice. Another award that she has won is the American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation for her book, Sin. Her book, Killing Floor, won the award Lamont Poetry Selection of the Academy of American Poets.

Our Poem:

Killing Floor

BY AI

RUSSIA, 1927

On the day the sienna-skinned man

held my shoulders between his spade-shaped hands,

easing me down into the azure water of Jordan,

I woke ninety-three million miles from myself,

Lev Davidovich Bronstein,

shoulder-deep in the Volga,

while the cheap dye of my black silk shirt darkened the water.

My head wet, water caught in my lashes.

Am I blind?

I rub my eyes, then wade back to shore,

undress and lie down,

until Stalin comes from his place beneath the birch tree.

He folds my clothes

and I button myself in my marmot coat,

and together we start the long walk back to Moscow.

He doesn’t ask, what did you see in the river?,

but I hear the hosts of a man drowning in water and holiness,

the castrati voices I can’t recognize,

skating on knives, from trees, from air

on the thin ice of my last night in Russia.

Leon Trotsky. Bread.

I want to scream, but silence holds my tongue

with small spade-shaped hands

and only this comes, so quietly

Stalin has to press his ear to my mouth:

I have only myself. Put me on the train.

I won’t look back.

Lev Davidovich Bronstein is mentioned in this poem and another in this collection of her poems. Lev Davidovich Bronstein is the birth name for Leon Trotsky. Trotsky was the founder and Commander of the Red Army. Clearly this is a man of great importance in Russian history. This poem is based on Russian history.

“Shoulder deep in the Volga” The Volga is a river that goes through Russia, with Moscow in its drainage basin. It is the largest river in Russia, and is widely viewed as the national river of Russia. This is a very important river in Russian culture. Both Trotsky and The Volga are very important to Russia and Russian history.

In the last line of the first stanza, “while the cheap dye of my black silk shirt darkened the water”, she could be saying that since she is part black, growing up in a time where blacks are discriminated against, she is trying to was away the “black in her” and the memories of being mistreated by her oppressors.

To start off the second stanza, the subject is clearly still in the water. With the water running down and covering her face. Her indicating blindness could mean she doesn't want to see Stalin's oppression or possibly her or the world being blind to what was happening in Russia at the time. The birch tree has meaning in two of the ethnicities that make up her background; Native American and Irish. It is significant to the Native part of her, because the Natives used the birch trees to make canoes and other boats, that has a tie to the fact that she was in a river. The Irish in her believes that the birch represents everything that the new Russia needed and Stalin wanted to obtain; growth, renewal, stability,

initiation, and adaptability.

When it states that Stalin folds her clothes, this could be viewed as a sign that he respects her.

She has a marmot coat, meaning she has a fair amount of money, as making a full coat out of such a s all animal, and either importing it from Russia, or being able to buy it from somewhere else and travel to Russia, indicates wealth. Rivers are seen as a very pure, and even holy symbol, and when she states she hears a man drowning in water and holiness, this could be a reference that, not only was Trotsky killed by an NKVD agent. NKVD was a secret police organization that executed rule of power during the time of Stalin and Trotsky, meaning Stalin either had a hand in killing Trotsky, or knew of his death, just as he knows what Ai would see in the river in the poem, and does not need to ask. The second meaning (in holiness), may be a reference to Trotsky's atheism, indicating that his anti-religious standpoint had a direct correlation with his downfall. This may be the “heaviest” line in the poem for symbols and revelations.

When Ai references the castrati voices, she could be comparing them to the throes of the dying. When somebody is screaming, especially when in extreme pain or in the process of being killed. Ai could be alluding to the assassination of Trotsky, because he was the man in the river. She can't recognize the voice, because she never actually heard Trotsky speak in person.

“Leon Trotsky. Bread.” Eucharist. In times of strong Christianity (1500's, etc) priests, cardinals, and other high-ranking religious figures believed they could turn wine and bread into the blood and flesh of Christ. This is known as The Eucharist. This could be seen as a strong and largely ironic allusion to the Christian religion, due to the fact that it is placed in the same line as Trotsky's name, and therefore associated with him, even though he is Atheist.

“The Spade-Shaped Hand is the fourth type and is characterized by a square base which is narrower than the top of the palm.  The fingers are relatively broad and square and may appear knotty.  A person with this type of hands usually has good manual dexterity and can do a lot of hand work all by himself.  Occupations such as mechanic and engineers are suitable for individuals with Spade-Shaped Hand because of their ability to do manual jobs effectively.”

This is a quote directly from http://readingpalm.org/type-of-hands.html. This indicates that the hands that hold her shoulders in the beginning of the poem, and her tongue at the end, belong to a person with manual dexterity and works hard with their hands.

Her stating in the end of the poem “I have only myself. Put me on the train. I won't look back”, indicates that she is leaving Russia and its struggles behind, and has no intention of returning, and that she will overlook Stalin “defeating” Trotsky and causing his death, because even the darker things he did were for the the greater good. As Machiavelli once said, “the end justifies the means.”, ironic, as Leon Trotsky himself once stated “The end may justify the means as long as something justifies the end.”

Drew's Poems

I Am Righteousness

I am Righteousness

I am the shining quality

The Maker and the Breaker

I once gaveth to the good men

And tooketh from the bad

The Pure, the Clean, are the ones that I rewarded

Gave them power in order for them to cleanse all evil

I am Righteousness

And I am lost

I am Righteousness

I am Power

The Holy, the Pure,

The Kings, the Queens

Princes and Lords

Thanes and Dukes

If they did not exercise goodness

If they did not practice honour

Then I broke them, of their will and sanity

And took all they had

I am Righteousness

And I am forgotten

Forgotten, by the men I once upheld

Became desecrated, disgraced, and dashed aside

Until only in the shadows I lived

Barely seen, barely heard, barely able to speak

Where once I held the power of God

Against all evil deeds,

Now they have grown, and I have weakened

And am but a grasshopper amongst giants

I am Righteousness

And I am buried

Buried, beneath the cruelty of men

Buried beneath the sins of the world

Beneath the criminals

These serpents, slithering through,

The skyscrapers of cities, and the backstreets of towns

The kidnappers, the rapists, and the thieves

The silver-tongues of the murderers

Their lies have brought me to an end

Bent others against my will

I am Righteousness

And I am broken

I am Righteousness

And I am broken

By the common man

I have become neglected

Forgotten, abused

I am but a body, dashed upon the rocks

By the relentless waves of greed and spite

Their evil faces mocking me

To join Hope I shall go,

Back to the Box of Pandora herself

There I will wait, for ages and ages

While the sands of time float through the days

Until one day, a child, so innocent

Within a world of flames and unspeakable horrors

Discovers me, amongst the butterflies

Of the last peaceful meadow

And it will begin anew

With the Tree and the Apple

But until that day comes

I am Righteousness

And I am lost.

The Rise and Fall of Pride

Its such a quiet thing to fall

But far more terrible is to admit it

Pride resides within us all

And for some it’s an addiction they cannot quit

Infecting the rich

Oppressing the poor

Lighting a fire like pitch

Worse off than before

Many men have the disease

Many women as well

So forget not I beg you please

That Pride created those who fell

Is pride yet not a sin?

A piece of the deadly seven?

So why is it that the holy ones

Are the only ones in heaven?

Don’t we all deserve a chance?

An opportunity to redeem?

These men who preach against the pride

Are the most proud of us it seems

Yet without pride, where are we today?

Would nations be so strong?

Wars are built upon our pride,

Yet so are the countries in which we belong

So how can we scorn it so?

Scorch its name with all our hate

When pride is the foundation

For that which we create

Without it there is no courage

To stand up to those against us

But if they were without such pride

Would they have first oppressed us?

So make your choice!

And Make haste with it as well

This “demon” pride within your chest

With good or evil does it swell?

Sorry

I repent

I Apologize

I remorse

I reproach

I

Am sorry

They say a picture is worth a thousand words

But is a word worth a thousand emotions?

Is it worth the pain?

Worth the anger?

Is it worth hearing the sacred word,

Even if it requires sorrow first,

To get the feeling deep down

Of being cared for and loved

That so many yearn for?

Worth the tears? Some may not know.

Some may not have tears

But does it still have meaning?

Is it still worth a thousand emotions?

Many people say it shows weakness

But does it?

Maybe when used in the wrong context

But at the right time, it shows intelligence

And courage, and purity

To be remorseful and accepting of your wrongdoing

But what does it really mean?

Many people misinterpret

Much like the word love

It carries much less weight

Then it did once

In the time of our parents

Grandparents

Ancestors

And so forth.

Do people really mean the words “I’m sorry”?

Too many use it to appease others

But do they really take it to the full meaning,

Of acceptance and remorse

For the catalyst of their problems?

Next time you use those words

I repent

I apologize

I remorse

I’m sorry

Think first

Are you really?

Or are you just saying that?

I repent, I remorse

Me?

I’m sorry.

Poems By Me.

Devastation

Wall of darkness crept right in,

Violent, like the Joker's grin,

The power surged, the sky turned grey,

The water spout about to spray,

Hellish nightmare soon to begin.

In seconds flat, town heard the din,

Brave firefighters rushed right in,

Destruction everywhere surveyed

Around our town.

The chaos witnessed, like a sin

Smashed bricks, shattered glass, twisted tin,

Tall, mighty trees on ground now lay

Memories of another day

Bleak devastation, mood is grim

Around our town.

Death by Sin

Seven Capital Vices from which to steer clear,

Humanity's tendency to sin did always appear.

Some forgivable, some mortal, which one the worst?

Avoid them all or you will be cursed.

Gluttony, you are a sin

With all the food you stuff right in:

You gulp it down in just one bite

Insatiable, your appetite.

Hubris, you deadly pride

God is no longer on your side.

Overinflated is your esteem,

A fall from Heaven is your destiny.

Greed, you lure me to excess,

Selfish desire, no want for less,

Money and wealth you will acquire,

Take care, beware His great ire.

Lust, the temptress of many man's mind,

Inordinate craving of the human kind,

Fulfillment forbidden, the drive for desire

Your fate, smothered not in kisses, but fire.

Envy, the desire for another man's life,

Your endless longing causing endless strife,

Satisfaction never to reach your heart

All your love will just fall apart.

Anger, the festering, burning rage

Of deeply-rooted wrath with a war to wage.

Hurry to don your red helm of combat

My soul under siege, under fierce attack.

Sloth, you steal your way into my bones

The sluggish stature all effort bemoans.

Languid are you in your search for ease,

Avoiding your work, the Lord now displeased.

Seven Capital Vices from which to steer clear,

Humanity's tendency to sin did always appear.

Some forgivable, some mortal, which one the worst?

Avoid them all or you will be cursed.

Setting Description

Close your eyes. Open your eyes. You are in a white void. I want you to picture a small fire in front of you. I want you to smell the burning cedar wood.

I want you to see the sparks jumping from it. Close your eyes again. When you open them, I want you to see an endless plane of sand.

The fire is still in front of you. Close and open your eyes again. The sand is still there as well as the fire, but now you see a massive body of water to your right,

and a field of alder bushes to your left. The aroma from both is almost overpowering, but oddly relaxing. You blink, all of a sudden you are sitting on a bench. You look down and see that it is actually a log from an old, dead pine tree. The smells are very comforting. You look over at the water and see an eighteen foot long boat bobbing in the water. It seems very familiar. You wade through the crystal clear, cool water seeing the ripples in the sand as clear as can be.when you reach the boat you realize that you have owned this boat for most of your life. You gather some hot dogs, marshmallows, and cheddar smokies from the boat and make your way back to shore. You rip a branch off the far end of the log, and use it to cook the food.

 As the smell of the food starts to waft all around, it draws the attention of some nearby seagulls. Their incessant calls start to drive you crazy.

 The gulls catch a whiff of the smoke and are coerced away. Close your eyes. Open your eyes. The water and alder bushes are now gone. Blink, now the log is gone. Blink again, the sand has disappeared. You are in a white void. The fire in front of you has vanished. You blink, once...twice. Close your eyes.

Macbeth Soliloquy

If I become the king it will mean nothing if I can't hold the position. Banquo scares me. There is something royal about him that just makes me afraid. He doesn't fear risks, and he is very clever. He knows when to be brave and when to be safe. No one scares me as much as he does. My guardian angel is scared, just as Mark Antony's of Caesar. Banquo asked the witches of his future after they told me mine. They told him he would be the father of a line of kings. But they told me I was going to be king. Since I have no heirs, I will have to give up my throne when I die. I have done something very foolish by killing Duncan, who has an heir, and giving the throne to Banquo's son. I've only hurt myself by murdering Duncan. Instead of letting this happen, I will face this challenge head on, and kill Banquo and his son before they can kill me.

Macbeth Soliliquy Act 1 Scene 7

If we are really going to do this business, we must do it fast.
If we are going to get away with killing Duncan,
It could be the be all and end all of our worries tonight.
As we stand at the edge of the River Styx, we still can be judged here in the real world.
If we kill him, then we teach people it’s ok to do violent things and it could bite us in the ass.
If we kill him, karma would come back and kill us in the end as we drink the poison from the cup.
I have two reasons not to kill him.
First, I am his family and under his command.
Also, I am his host. If someone is visiting me, no harm should come to him.
I should protect him from the crime I am about to commit against him at all costs.
Besides, Duncan is mild-tempered and he has done a good job as king, so that angels would play trumpets if he were to die because he has led such a virtuous life.
Pity, the news of Duncan’s death, like an innocent child or a winged angel will spread on invisible horses flying through the air telling this horrible deed to everyone everywhere.
People will cry so much it will look like a rainstorm on every face.
I don’t really want to do this deed. But my ambition wants me to.

Macbeth's Two Truths Told

Two of the things the witches told me so far have come true.
I’m on my way to becoming king.
This supernatural promise doesn’t seem bad. But it doesn’t feel right in my gut. If it was a bad promise, why am I now more powerful, with more success? Now, I am the Thane of Cawdor. If it was a good promise, why do I want to kill Duncan? Killing Duncan makes my hair stand on end and my heart beat fast inside my ribs. What is going on right now scares me less than what I’m imagining. Even though it is still just a fantasy, the thought of killing him shakes me to my core. I’m lost in thought, and the only thing that matters to me are things that don’t exist.
If it is my fate to become king, maybe I should just wait, and it will happen anyway, without me murdering Duncan.
No matter what comes my way, if it’s going to happen, it will happen.

Lady Macbeth’s Raven Soliloquy

The messenger has been running around too much. He is out of breath.
He announces that Duncan is coming into my castle, where he will meet his doom.
Come on, you spirits that help me think my murderous thoughts,
Make me less like a woman. Fill me from my head to my toes with the strength to be cruel and deadly. Thicken my blood. Don’t let me feel guilt for what I am about to do. Let no human compassion stop me from doing what I must. Come to my breasts and switch my mother’s milk for poison, you demons, wherever you are hiding, invisible and waiting to do evil. Thick night, come to me and cover the world in the evil smoke of hell so that I can’t see what I am about to slice open. Keep heaven from seeing what I am doing so it can’t say, "No! Stop the madness!"

Act 1 Scene 6 Macbeth Soliliquy

Duncan: Mmmmm. This is a great place. The air smells nice and appeals to my senses.
Banquo: This summer martin likes it too. He builds his house where the breezes are sweet. Nothing sticks out of these castle walls where there isn’t a bird roosting or nesting. They like to settle and mate right here, where the air is calm.
Duncan: Look, here she comes, Lady Macbeth, our lovely hostess. Sometimes all these loving subjects are a bother, but it’s nice to know they care. It’s inconvenient for you having me here and I thank you for your trouble.
Lady Macbeth: Everything we do, we would do over and over again, is nothing compared to what you provide for us. We will stay loyal to you for all the honours you have given us.
Duncan: Where is Macbeth? We followed him closely and had a reason to provide for him. But he is fast on his horse. But his love for you, sharp as a spur, helped him get here to you before us. Lovely lady, we will be your guest tonight.
Lady Macbeth: We will be your servants forever. Everything we have belongs to you, since you really own it, and we are happy to give back to one who gave us so much.
Duncan: Hold my hand. Take me to my host. We love him greatly and will continue. When you are ready, hostess.

Child's Poem

This is my child's poem. I hope you enjoy it.

The Boat

The link to our presentation is here

100 Billion Dollar Assignment

Dear Mr. Lobb:

Handing over $100 billion would be a gruelling decision to make. Think of it. What is $100 billion?  It was what President George Bush asked his Congress for in 2003 to add to the fiscal year to continue the fight on terrorism in Afghanistan and Iraq. It was 1/10 of all of the money in circulation in the United States in 2007. It was the GDP of New Zealand two short years ago. It’s about the net worth of the social networking website Facebook. It is 1/5 of Canada’s debt in 2010.Trying to wrap your head around this quantity is hard. Just view the following clip of Austin Powers character Dr. Evil, plotting to hold the world ransom. Giving me the responsibility of handling this amount of money would be a leap of faith. But I am up for the challenge and I’m no Dr. Evil.

To begin with, money, in the past, has burnt a hole in my pocket. I’m sure this doesn’t give you much faith in me. But I would be responsible, for the most part, especially when you see how a mere $1 bill can grow to $1 trillion dollars in the attached video.

 My first priority would be my family. I would take a small and insignificant crumb of this amount to help them. I would make sure our electrical wiring is up to code. I would outfit Dad’s shop with all the power tools he would ever need. I would take care of the mortgage, car loan, taxes, and other debts to relieve any financial worries. I would make sure my education is taken care of, even though I wouldn’t really need a job, because I’d be rich. I would make sure to give us a massive holiday all around the world. Helping my family really helps me because home is where the heart is.

Personally, I would ask for just a little of the 99.9% that remains. I would invest in the company Blizzard.  They are the creators of World of Warcraft, Diablo, Starcraft, and others. This company has user-friendly games with awesome websites that will continue to expand and grow for many years. I would like to be an investor so they would have to take me into their company and let me test and develop future projects.This would bring me great happiness in my future life. The only other item I would need is a computer called the Emperor 1510 so that I could run these programs. With such a small investment of perhaps $10 billion dollars, I would still have 87% of the gift for my biggest priority.

So far, the hole in my pocket hasn’t burnt big enough. There is still a great amount of money left over for charity. I would probably donate as much of it, around 100 million, for our town to rebuild as many houses as possible, as quickly as possible after the destruction hit when the tornado struck. No one would have to worry about their homes. I am a believer that charity must begin at home. So, I would make sure that the one in nine children that live below the poverty line, roughly one million kids, have enough money to feed themselves, clothe themselves and have a place to live. I wish I could give them $1 000 000, each, but that would be ten times more than I started with. That’s a very scary reality for Canadian kids. I couldn’t even begin to fix other problems in other countries of the world. There just isn’t enough. 

Mr. Lobb.  Please give me this money.  I want to make the world a better place for my family, Canadian children, and even myself.

Sincerely,
Jack Thomas

PS: If I had a little left over, I would finally buy myself a copy of Microsoft Office, because I’m too cheap to buy it right now. And I would buy you a pony (haven’t you always wanted a pony?)

The Boat

2.a) The narrator does not idealize his father or his way of life. This shows in many circumstances. The narrator proves this by not doing what the father wants him to do, i.e. the narrator goes away to become a teacher instead of a fisherman. He does still love him though, as it proves near the beginning of the story with the narrator still waking up at 4:00 am to "go fishing" with his father.

3.a) The boat in this story could be said to represent the narrator maturing from a young child to being a person who now has a family of his own. It could also represent how the narrator has grown away from his father.

Beethoven 5th Symphony (No. 5, graphical score animation, allegro)

This is also another favourite piece by Beethoven.

This video belongs to the "YouTuber" smalin. Check out his website here.

This is one of my favourite songs by Ludwing van Beethoven. I find it always helps to get me to fall asleep.

New Intro to Me.

I'm nerdy and proud of it. My name is Jack Thomas. Not too exciting. I lead a pretty ordinary life, by day. Did you get excited for a minute there, thinking I have some alter ego at night? Ha...fooled you. The cake is a lie. I'm still boring, plain, goofy, funny-looking, socially inept Jack at night. I don't like to talk about myself, but I guess I have to for this English assignment. So welcome to my nerdy funderland.

Woooooooo! Party! Not really. I don't go to them. I don't get invited to them. I don't drink, well, I don't get wasted anyway. Instead, on a weekend night, you will find me sitting at home glued to my screens and talking to my cyberfriends. Call of Duty drives my parents insane, but I spend a lot of time on it anyway. Minecraft, a sandbox building game, relaxes my brain after killing all of the people on Call of Duty. When my mom tells me to call someone, I always say “I don't feel the need for human interaction.” How many other teenagers would watch the Food Network instead of going out? Only socially awkward nerds like me.

Other kids just don't get me. My head is filled with useless junk which I spout off whenever it comes to mind whether it , did you know most cosmetic products are made with animals' fecal matter, makes sense or not. My friend always says, “You are the most random kid I know.” He also says, “You are so ADD,” which happens to be the truth. Most of my knowledge will have no relevance in day to day communication. I happen to know a lot, is alot one word or two?, about Greek mythology, which none of my friends care anything about. You should come spend a day in my nerdy brain.

To quote one of my music heroes, Burt Bacharach, “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.” You might ask, “How does any kid my age even know Burt Bacharach?” I'm a nerd who happens to like Austin Powers. “Yeah, baby, yeah....” I also listen to Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Les Mis, showtunes of all sorts (not gay!), Disney soundtracks (my all-time favourites), Elvis, Johnny Cash, Queen, Rush, Haddaway, Blue Oyster Cult, and many others. Popular kids would take my iPod, throw it on the ground, douse it with gasoline, light it on fire, shoot it with a high-powered rifle, and bury it. You won't find dubstep, hip hop, or rap on any of my playlists. Maybe this nerd is really an “old soul” who was born in the wrong generation.

I'm nerdy and proud of it. I like Drama. I think Shakespeare is an OK guy. I'm a techie. I quote Spongebob. I watched The Simpson's Movie so many times that the owner of Goderich Convenience Store gave me a copy for free. I love to skip, with a rope and down hallways (still not gay)! I walked around Bradford at our Sears Festival regional level dressed in a suit with a double-breasted jacket, matching dress pants, newsboy cap, and shiny shoes. I asked for cufflinks and a fedora for my sixteenth birthday. I have a little bit of astigmatism in my left eye. And, when I'm bored and alone, I either talk to myself, mentally write a script for a play (who needs paper?), or conduct an imaginary orchestra (they are pretty good). Even my haircut is nerdy. It won't sit down. It won't co-operate. It has a mind of its own. I can blame my parents for this. Unfortunately, I got Mom's triple crown and Dad's double cowlick. It sucks!!!!!!!!

I'm not afraid to be myself. I believe other people hide their true nerdiness behind masks that make them popular in other ways. I just don't like wearing masks. They make my face itchy. So, ya. That's me. Yep.... Bye now.