The semester is over and the campus will soon be empty, leaving only a distant memory of laughter, learning, studying and un-documented fun that Spring 2013 has produced at SHU. So, where does the blog go from here, off into a mystic world where only blogs, can safely enter. It is a mystery that still plaques the masses.

 In SEL 150-01 I have explored several types of materials and activities:  fiction, poetry, literature, group discussions, peer reviews and writing, lots and lots of writing /blogging. What tools will I take with me as I go forth into my academic career? Everything… that I can remember? As an older sponge I absorb much less, than a sponge straight out of the wrapper. I realize that as time presses on, I find more of my own style and voice in writing, whether academic or otherwise. So readers beware, I am often unfiltered in my writing. Can you handle it? Sure you can, so read on…

 This is my final portfolio for the semester and it seems like just yesterday I was talking about my journey into pedagogy…(And other random stuff that my peers and I discussed at our table.) Talking about my journey made me think of discussing some Buggers  I decided I had to ask myself the big question, Sci-fi, but why? Oh my, I don’t really know why, but it tormented me. So I read it and finally with a resounding whew, I liked it. It surprised me. Most Sci-fi is so far removed from me, it could be comparable to a book of Erotic poetry by a gaggle of out of work clowns. I do not always fight with the literature I have to read, okay maybe a little. Alright a lot, satisfied, good. I find that reading different genres has been a bit shaky for me, but I adapt well. Instead of dwelling on the what if’s, I drift off into a cosmic daydream about love and its many repercussions. All the silly little sonnets, organized odes and mislead mistresses, sitting by a cleverly disguised devil. What? don’t you daydream of odd stuff too? Moving on…I also ponder, how I ended up as an English major. The grammar and writing in itself makes me wonder… what was I thinking? The answer that you my dear patient reader desires to have, is here, cleverly wrapped up in a glass box of emotion. I have no idea… See I told you it was emotional, impressive right?

Just kidding, I know what I was thinking about… my love for the written word, the clever quote, the chilling description and the enticing phrase. I was seduced by literature, fiction, even poetry, it was shameful, embarrassing and I loved every minute of it. I fell down the rabbit whole into an over-sized world of greatness. Just when I thought I had literature all figured out, a bolt of lightning hit me hard. I became a clunky old car, that smoked and jutted barely making it down the road. In my version of the story my sad little car would  ironically stop, right in front of the gas station. So, what does this have to do with writing, everything. I ramble on unfiltered and unsure of every coma and run-on sentence. Often naked from overexposure of my inner self. I do not feel like a rock-star, yet I could have written the infinitely popular Led Zeppelin song.

So, all this rambling leads me to the real topic at hand, my future. I discussed it in length in forums. I Moodle-d my way through all kinds of activities on career panels, teachers, writers, experts, authors and of course a sweet resume with my picture on it.

I put my ears to work on my next learning adventure. I heard things on sound-cloud my ears can never erase and yet, it was interesting. I explored my inner audio learner. Let’s just say my inner learner was not feeling the audio, perhaps audio with words would have helped my experience. Oddly enough music resonates with me, I hear it and remember lyrics, etc. Yet, with learning I have to see it or else it is not real to me.  None-the-less, I grasp ahold of my inner me and jumped off the cliff into my own version of exploration.

My next area of learning was the great mistake…  I learned I never want to be a journalist. I would hate confronting criminals and chasing down crazy people just for a story. Forget it! I would have joined the police academy, if I wanted to keep tabs on nut-job people. I also could not see myself chasing a parent who lost a loved one. Hello- that is something seriously hardcore and cold. I respect people that can do it, but I would rather be the chick behind the scenes doing the reporters make-up. Regardless of what my personal taste may be, I am now fully capable of discerning what constitutes good journalism and what just plain… well stinks. So world beware, Jerz opened the flood gates of journalism critiquing for me.

So, what else did I learn and do. Hmmm… okay I got it. Poetry… my arch nemesis. Some types of poetry remind me of scary movies, when I yell at the TV. Do not go in the basement, oh my God your going in the basement, you know the killer is down there, yep, he sees you, your toast. Good luck with that! The Coy Mistress poem reminds me of a kidnapping, Do not go with him…. He is bad news… I cannot believe women still fall for such a silly attempt to be taken advantage of. I found Eddie’s version of the naive lady to have intriguing infliction and enough depth for me to think about what the speaker meant. Did I fall short, who knows, I still have not mastered poetry. It is a can of cooking spray emptied on a plastic snow board, scary and unnecessary. Yet, as a teacher I will be thrust into the poetic genre of learning. Eek, I sure hope the poetry class I have next semester, can get me up to speed with Iambic pentameter, some other pentameter, perhaps even centimeter. Hey, I am an English major not a math major; thank the dear lord for that. It would be a sad state to witness indeed.

 As I look back I realize…

How valuable time is for a college student.  The fact of the matter is that sleep is the last thing I think about. I spend my days coffee and Diet Pepsi in hand half drooling over a can of Red Bull on the TV commercial. I always make sure I have my papers and projects done. This massive effort does show some  timeliness but, it does not show me going into the kitchen and putting my Diet Pepsi in the cabinet instead of the fridge. During mid-term my attention span could be compared to a newly deceased character on the walking dead… side note, eww. No one wants to look like that; sometimes it just cannot be helped.

I gave myself kudos for a failed attempt at a screen play writing. Holy crap I wrote a play, no it’s not going to be playing at the Met anytime soon, but it was so much fun. I never knew I liked it until I tried to write it. I know everyone focuses on writing novels, short stories, etc., but perhaps plays should not be ruled out. Who knows, maybe the story could be a movie, why limit yourself to one particular avenue test-drive all the roads.

What else helps with success? I would have to say humor can sometimes soften an otherwise arduous task.I would say I am alone on this but, it seems that from other people’s comments and interaction with me, I must be doing something right. Perhaps I should take lessons in stand-up, nah too much writing. I like to write long sentences, but I try not to make a Hobbit of it…Sorry, I could not help myself with that one. Half of my sentences end up being part of a messy conundrum, who knows why.

As the class moved forward I learned that being a show off was a good thing. I also found that covering yourself was a must because no one wants to be naked and thrown to the wolves.

As a final project, I put my brain to work ,all the while Keats eery Urn stared deeply into my soul. Well okay, not really, but the research was difficult. If the Urn had stared me down, I would have changed topics immediately. I also would have never read anything else about urns. Which would be hard to avoid because I prefer cremation to burial. Anyhow, all of this circle of life and death and meaning bring me back to the beginning of the semester, (or at least close to it). The question that is, was and will always be on my mind is… Who am I? Not Slim Shady style, please remain seated. What I read shocked me, I never knew I was so diverse. A pillar of society, a member of the bar, a distinguished, multi-tasker. So have I gained new ideas and knowledge this semester, heck yeah!

Now that your eyes are getting sleepy and you are probably channel surfing, what I will say next. I will leave my final portfolio with the words of a very smart man.

 “The fool thinks himself to be wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

 ~Shakespeare~

Which one are you? 

via Participation Portfolio 4.

I chose Ed’s version of, “To His Coy Mistress,” to write about.  The poem offers a diversion to love by urging the woman to fall into his devices and use time wisely. Ed uses great inflection in reading the poem. This poem has is rather long and begs the question of how much emphasis should be put on each line? I assume that the author or person that is the voice of the poem chose this topic of time and love to entice the reader into believing that love is fleeting and lost if no pursued quickly enough.  The persuasive tone of the poem is not considerate of the woman and how she truly feels, but rather how the speaker wants her to give in to his desires right now. In comparison Nick’s version of,  “Invictus,” showed a similar arrogance and selfishness that the speaker had in, “To his Coy Mistress.” Both poems invited the reader into a certain type of darkness. When discussing, “To His Coy Mistress,” the mention of death and worms, delight and pleasure are all part of the darkness that the speaker uses to inflict a sense of fear into the woman. The speaker gives her an eerie sense of what he has in store for her if she relents.  In Invictus the speaker is willing to die for whatever cause he has. The torment that the man in “Invictus” receives is all part of maintaining his pride. When faced with inescapable danger, the speaker surprises the reader by showing his desire to keep whatever his secret is safe all the way to his coffin. Nick used a nice steady pace with “Invictus” it helped me to experience the words rather than if I had just read them myself. If the speaker does give in to the mysterious circumstances he will surely be just as sorry as the Coy Mistress will be.

via Poetry Response Activity.

via Mistakes Journalists Make During a Crisis.

via Academic Article TBA.

It has been a long arduous road when faced with all the pertinent tasks laid at our feet. I have to say I have learned many different things this semester in el 150. It is interesting because this class was one that fell through the cracks for me. I should have taken it a lot sooner. I really believe though that everything does happen for a reason. Had I not been in this class at this time, I would have missed out on the interesting discussions and group interaction that I enjoy. I find in a group I thrive, I like to share ideas and go further in depth into other arenas of topic. I have learned how creative my classmates are, how different all our talents are and how as a group we all seem to function well. I have also learned different styles of writing, that I may have otherwise never been introduced to. I have read  books that have turned my concept of genre upside down. I have found it is detrimental for me to keep an open mind, when it comes to literature and poetry. I enjoyed trying new apps. They were invigorating and fun. Overall this part of the semester has been chalked full of reading, writing, blogging and learning.

So let’s get right down to it. First of all this semester we explored a little book called, “The Hobbit.” It was a strange and creepy yet entertaining venture that left our class with no shortages of opinions. Next we explored the Sci-fi world of , “Ender’s Game.” An interesting story about childhood, killing, loyalty, heroism and the meaning of reality. Both of these books led to discussions that seemed bizarre, friendly, angry, insightful and sometimes just down right funny. It was easy to compare and contrast these two very different stories. During all the interaction  with classmates, theme, symbolism, genre and questioning the authors purpose, popped up quite often.

The world that we live in is consumed with time, listen to any conversation and it will crop up. In college time means something entirely different for all the sleep deprived, caffeine induced minutes of existence. Not enough time equals high stress, too much equals severe boredom. In this section of blogging time was of the essence and  timeliness was a defining factor. Interestingly enough fascism was part of the treadmill of ideas presented in a bizarre yet fascinating article on, “The Politics of Fantasy.” The author  may have been on a fast food binge discarding his wrappers all over the floor, reminding me of the show, “Hoarders.” Yet, some clever connections caught my eye and drew me in. But, reality forced me to consider this idea only in my blog and only for a hot minute.

This old idea rings true for me,”Seeing is believing.” I am a visual learner and although I enjoy listening to things, the ideas do not always resinate with me. when faced with the feat of creating my own piece, I wanted something dark and unusual. The problem was my voice was just too nice. So, by tweaking the sound, I pushed forward and created an in depth interpretation of,”Orpheus in Hell.” Listening to my creation reminded me of people on TV that did not want their real voices heard. I pondered the meaning of hell. I ventured to guess what the three headed dog could be besides a warning or bizarre part of the mythology. It was a successful endeavor considering the diverse reactions my classmates had.

So, what rises to the top and what falls like a soufflé in this interpretation of what I learned? It is clear that writing, reading and discussions have been a constant in the current success of my blogging career. The flatness would lie in the lack of coverage when my blogs entries were just so, so. Who had my back in this last piece of the recipe, no one. It is fine so fear not and don’t cry for me, I often like the sound of my own voice, just kidding. There is always value in writing down an opinion, validation is fleeting and sometimes I learn more from myself by re-reading my own jargon. It  makes me a stronger and better reader, writer and creator. Many things have been perused this semester, but soon it will all be coming to a close. Perhaps the final chapter that entails research will re-energize my creativity and help me to thrust my ideas into a more productive way. If that does not happen, well as Marie Therese supposedly said, “Let them all eat cake.”

via Participation Portfolio 3.

via Ender’s Game (4/4).

The section of the book that we were focusing on was  page 131 in Ender Game.

“Peter we’re children, don’t you understand that? We’re growing up–” But even as she resisted, she wanted him to persuade her. She had wanted him to persuade her from the beginning. This section was part of the discussion of  mind control and reality. We focused on whether or not Ender would be okay when he came back to Peter and Valentine. We also focused on how Valentine needed to justify her actions when it came to helping Peter. Valentine could perhaps be more of a manipulator than Peter is. Does Peter want world domination or just domination over Valentine in order to destroy Ender? She is the key to hurting Ender and if Peter is jealous of Ender of course hurting Valentine would hurt Ender.

 Declaudio

Rosenbusch

Brancato

Ryan 

via Ender’s Game: Exploring the Theme.

via Ender’s Game (3/4).

via Ender’s Game (2/4).

via Ender’s Game (1/4).