Blog 2

After reading Geeta Kothari’s article entitled “You Are What You Eat, Then What Am I?” it really made me sit back and reflect upon how difficult it would be to learn how to cook food from a completely different culture then the one you are used to. She did a great job contrasting the Indian food that her family prepared on a regular basis to the food that her childhood friends would eat. In particular I found a striking visual contrast of the tuna sandwich that her mom makes versus the tuna salad sandwiches that her friend’s parents made. “The tuna in those sandwiches doesn’t look like this, pink and shiny, like an internal organ.” (Geeta Kothari) For me the comparison of the tuna to some sort of internal organ was very striking, it also helped to illustrate Kothari own “otherness” to the reader. The food that she and her sister want to eat so badly is usually “American” style food, the good stuff like donuts and fried chicken. However as she gets older she realizes that the food she misses the most is the home cooked meals that her mother and father had cooked. That is the same way I start to feel after being away at college. It is the little things, like the homemade glaze that my mom puts on her ham. Or the homemade meatloaf that my dad makes. It is this feeling of homesickness that drives Kothari into a whirlwind of fear that after her parents pass away she will no longer be able to have those favorite foods that still mean so much to her. I enjoyed the analogy she uses at this point, “I prepare for this day the way people on TV prepare for the end of the world.” (Geeta Kothari) to me it made perfect sense, in my minds eye I could visualize her frantic efforts to capture the foods of her childhood.
Geeta’s mother throughout the essay exhibited a strong ability to adapt herself to her new found situation in America. The fact that she took the cooking classes helps to illustrate to me that she is actively trying to learn how to assimilate into the larger American culture, but at the same time it is sweet how she still retains her own heritage through her traditional cooking skills.
One part of her essay I didn’t particularly like is her references to her husband and how he likes to eat meat. It almost seems at times like she thinks she is better then he is for abstaining from eating meat, he has to learn how to cook around her tastes, but no mention is made concerning things she has given up to make him happy. Or when she writes about how she doesn’t like the smell that lingers on him after eating meat. “I hope he doesn’t notice me turning my face, a cheek instead of my lips, my nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar, musky smell.” (Geeta Kothari) It seems like she doesn’t completely accept him, that the meat that he enjoys somehow is so different from how she was raised. At the same time she worries that he will leave her for a woman that is a meat eater, someone that is not put off by the smell of cooked hamburgers or steak. I know I would have a hard time being with a vegetarian, and I just wonder what her husband thinks of it all. Is he fine with her choices, or does he wish that she would be able to enjoy a nice juicy steak with him at supper time.

Blog 1

Slave Moth written by Thylias Moss is a story about a slave girl named Varl living on a small plantation owned by Master Peter Perry. It seems that Master Perry has a taste for the odd things in life, going so far as to collect an albino slave girl named Pearl, and a midget slave named Sully. Master Perry even goes so far to turn his grandmother Irene Perry into a tourist attraction. The grandmother dies on the porch while drinking whiskey and this apparently leads to a collection of bees moving into her mouth and turning her into some kind of human hive. Master Perry even goes as far as having his dwarf slave Sully harvest the Grandmothers mouth for the honey that is able to be collected. That scene was one of the scenes that stayed with me through the book and for me it is very indicative of the strangeness that is Master Perry.
I did have some confusion however during one of the more important parts of the book, the scene where Varl is in the woods stitching together her “cocoon” when Master Perry comes upon her. For me this was the only part that I had some trouble following her particular style for the book. At times I had some confusion as to who was speaking during this part and what really was going on. The chapter for this was called The Harvesting of Mysterious Ways. Not only was it a little confusing it was also one of the best illustrations of the power play going on behind the scenes between Master and Slave. Who can push whom, and how far they can take things and still not end up on the hanging rope.
Some issues I had with the narrative would have to include how Thylias Moss wraps up the end of her story. The entire time I was reading the novel I was waiting for Varl to attempt to escape, to flee from the slave situation. And while she does talk about fleeing Varl never really escapes from the plantation that ends up bearing her name. Even at the end of the story it is not completely clear to me whether or not Varl even is able to escape with her lover Dob. Apparently Dob has a stash of guns to be used for slave rebellion, however shots are never fired. Instead she just writes that the slaves just end up not doing the duties of a slave anymore. The albino Pearl stops tending to the chicken and Sully quits looking after the livestock. All Perry has to say about this however is “Peter Perry noticed and complimented the strangeness. Marveled at what it had accomplished-perhaps his ways had helped-“. I do not understand why a slave owner would be so calm and collected about his slaves no longer being slaves. That just seems like a rather large investment in both time and money that he just lets go. But I guess that is what sets him apart from the other slave owners mentioned in the novel. He is not deliberately callous or really cruel to the slaves under his watch. From what the story mentioned they seemed to be well fed and taken care of, and I know this is no excuse for his being a slave owner but at least he is not cutting letters into his slaves or making them burn themselves in the face with a hot iron.

blog

Again the winter is upon us, crazy things have been happening in the world. For example it snowed in Vegas! According to the reports from the McCarren International Airport they received over 3.6 inches of snow. That is the most recorded since records on that kind of thing started to be kept. And in Vermillion we are facing another night of heavy snow that could possibly delay all the students trying to get home for the winter holidays. But it is much better to be late and alive then early and dead as my old dog ruff ruff use to say. Apparently over in the Middle East it is a grave insult to show the sole of your shoe to someone. So the Middle Eastern who chucked his shoes at President Bush was apparently making a very strong statement. Now however the silly Iraqi is begging his prime minister for a pardon because apparently it is against the law over in Iraq to disrespect a foreign leader. So this dude is trying to get some kind of get out of jail free card. I think he should have looked up the rules before he decided to throw his shoes at our President. I mean I know that President Bush is not popular over in the middle east he is not even popular here in the states but how big of a doofus do you have to be to throw shoes at a leader of a country? He is just lucky the secret service didn’t taze or do worse to him after he chucked those loafers. Didn’t we have a plane bomber with a bomb in his shoes? I hope they put him away for the stupidity of it. While they are at it they should put Cheney and Bush in prison, I am not really sure why but I just feel like they must have done something to deserve the clink. Cheney is creepy and I hate the way Bush looks at the camera and does his little “yeah I don’t know what they hell im saying “ shrug.
Another idiot who made the news recently is the Illinois governor Blagovich or however that is spelled. Honestly why is every single politician seemingly either corrupt or well on the way to corruption. Did this num-nuts really think he could get away with selling a senate seat ? I am just glad that the FBI was monitoring him and knew that he was trying to pull these kind of shenagins. And now his lawyer is going to stretch out the proceedings as long as possible, all the while the regular joe plumbers (haha) will end up footing the bill again. As if the trillions of dollars we just loaned out to the banks auto industry and loan giants wasn’t enough grief to have to put up with. And just who is going to pay all those taxes back? Well tell you what it will not be me because I am headed for either Canada or the Moon, whatever ticket I can punch first.

Blog

As one of the most American of holidays, thanksgiving continues to be a time of celebration between family and friends. Some holidays have other deeper meanings, maybe the birth or death of a historical figure or even a celebration of victory in war. Instead I believe that thanksgiving is more a time of reconnecting with those people in your life who are there to help you through the tough times that arise in your life. For the pilgrims that could have been the Native Americans that helped them to survive those first tough winters, but for me thanksgiving is all about spending quality time with my family and friends. Since I am so far away from home and don’t get many chances to actually connect with them I really like to spend as much time as possible hanging out with my family when I am finally home. This includes sitting up in my little brothers room and trying to spend quality time with him talking about school while he plays video games or even watches the television that I gave him. Or another activity I enjoy when I am home is just sitting at the kitchen table with my mom playing cards while she tells me the latest hijinxs that her students are getting into during class. The best thing about coming home for Thanksgiving is helping my dad cook the turkey and all the fixings that go along with it. Well that and the all day football that follows the turkey spirit.
A couple things happened differently this thanksgiving; this is the first thanksgiving that I have had a serious girlfriend around for the holiday and for some reasons it just made the holidays go by much faster. Also every single flipping football game this thanksgiving was a total blow-out. That was probably the worst thing that could have happened to me, sitting down and nodding off to football while digesting a mass of turkey that could have put a giant to sleep is one of the highlights of my holiday but for some reason even though the games kept getting blown out I couldn’t fall asleep. Now this throws off my entire game plan for the night, because if I don’t sleep and get that nap in I have no energy to go out at night and party with my older sister. So what could I do? Well like any good American would do in the Thanksgiving spirit, I sucked it up, drank some coffee, went downtown and made some bad decisions with my sister. But it was fun, taking pictures, taking shots, and shooting some pool. Just spending quality time with another fun member of my family. However the thanksgiving could not be complete without going to the ol’ gf’s house and meeting her entire family tree all at once. This could be a time that goes terrible or a time that serves to further cement the relationship. Luckily for me it was the cementing and not the terrible time that happened. When you factor in the turkey, football, family, friends, and significant others Thanksgiving in one of the most American of holidays.

Experimental Poem

The Acrostic Chance method (number 8) of experimental poetry
Chill Factor by Sandra Brown
3 8 9 12 12 6 1 3 20 15 18

Chill Factor

Collar up to his ears, which were
Here simply to escape
In the general direction of the
Load these boxes into your trunk
Load these boxes into your trunk

Fingertips. The latex gloves had
A record
Collar up to his ears, which were
The road. She
Of the relief that
Right shoul-

Doing a poem in the Acrostic method for me was enjoyable because I didn’t really know what was going to come of the poem. The first book I was going to use this method on was The Stars My Destination; it did not work for me because the book started on page seven instead of the necessary page one. However this was quickly remedied when I grabbed Chill Factor by Sandra Brown. While this book was my girlfriends, it did have the added bonus of starting on page one so it would work for this experimental poetry assignment. Going through the title and finding the corresponding lines was almost like putting together a puzzle that you have never seen before. I was anxious at first to see if the poem would actually make sense until it clicked in my brainium cranium that this poem was supposed to be experimental and it did not have to make sense. After that I just skimmed through the book writing down the lines with an understanding to how it was going to work out at the end. After finishing the poem and reading over the finished project I was very happy with how it turned out. The only thing I would have changed is the last two lines because, as weird as this process was the rest of the poem actually worked. My favorite part of the poem was the last two lines of the first stanza, which read: “Load these boxes into your trunk.” I still cheese out when I read those because I think of Steve Carrell’s line from 40 year old virgin, “I hope you have a big trunk because I am putting my bike into it.”
For many mainstream critics that do not like the idea of this kind of experimental poetry I say to them, “Sit down, shut up, and mind your own business.” Who is to say or decide what in the end constitutes poetry? I believe that the final and finished product and what they release to the public in the end is up to the poet. It is the poet’s creation, not the critics that is released to the public. Language is not something you can nail down, and since this is true (in my opinion) poetry is also not something that can be cut and dried. The poem that I wrote for this experimental exercise doesn’t even necessarily have kind of deeper meaning. And while I know this poem doesn’t really mean anything that does not necessarily mean that the reader won’t get some kind of deeper meaning or connection from the poem. The basic idea that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”; I believe can be applied to any poem experimental or otherwise. As long as someone gets something from the poem it is worth the work of either writing the poem or in my case paging through the book and finding lines. I do believe in the end that this poem is successful in challenging the notions of mainstream language or ideology because it leaves the meaning and understanding up to the reader, who in the end is actually (in my opinion) the final judge of the work. And as the poet, and the reader of the poem I must say that I enjoyed writing the poem just as I enjoyed reading it and trying to figure out what it actually meant.

11/02/08

This past weekend amazing things happened. One such thing was one of the better holidays, Halloween. For me Halloween is on the same level as saint patricks day. In both holidays outrageous clothing is worn, and ridiculous drinking ensues. I guess in the case of Halloween however the girls get to dress up in sexy outfits so that is usually pretty awesome. I bet when Jorie Graham goes out for Halloween she dresses up as a sexy nurse or something fun like that. Speaking of Jorie Graham, she has some very interesting poems that a person could read. One that struck me in particular is entitled “The Surface” and to me it seemed to be about Jorie Graham and either her imagination or maybe about the unconscious part of a person’s being. She uses the analogy throughout the poem of a twisting and spiraling river that seems to carry in it either the or messages that a person has in the form of fallen leaves that are carried on down the river. This poem could also be about the writing process in that she draws from someplace inside her self, the words, ideas or messages that she in turn sets free down the river. I could see that being the case in the last few lines of the poem Jorie wirtes “I say iridescent and I look down. The leaves very still as they are carried.” Or maybe I am completely off and it’s a poem about her fishing for a catfish or something. I did like how often Jorie uses the idea of a “Big Question” in her poems. It can be hard for a poet to write about the big questions because they really have no set or only true response, so in a way you are expecting more from the reader when you use those questions.
A lot of her poetry however is not really my cup of tea. The form that she uses for some of the poems seems a bit off to me. I am not completely sure what it is about the rhythm but it doesn’t seem to me to flow as well as some of the other authors. I also feel that some of the stuff is a little bit forced. I did not really like the poem “Fission” but I did think it was nice and retro when she writes so well about the early times before instant messaging and 24 hour news. That must have been a huge deal to the people of the 60’s when the President got shot. If any thing like that happened nowadays a person would be able to find out about it almost before the tragedy was completely done. No need to go to the electronics store to watch tv, instead just get on the internet with your phone or other mobile device, and almost instantly you have the ability to get the updated news. This class has been interesting in regards to the variety of poets we have already convered, I really enjoy being able to read all the various styles that we have already covered.

Poem Of Modelness

October Walks

Cold and windy October Days
Chilly walks Chilly talks

Lauren, a blast from
My past.
Strolls languidly next to me
Holding onto the leash of her
Hound dog

Actually Leonardo (woof woof)
Does most of the walking.
Pulling and tugging on the leash.
Hurrying Lauren and I down the block.
Stopping it seems
To sniff the rapidly changing trees
Or corner bush that catches his fancy
Ahh, contentment in October.

Could this day get any
Better? Of course Lauren replies
She lights up a Camel Light takes a drag
And passes it to me.

The smoke gusts in the October winds.
We walk, we talk
Sharing the smoke
Sharing the beautiful October day.

I decided to write the modeling poem in the style of Frank O’Hara and his classic “Lunch Poems”. Lauren (a good friend of mine) was out walking her dog and I decided to join her. For me it seemed like a great time to get some inspiration and write the poem. I used the poem “A step away from them” by O’Hara as one of my sources. I really enjoyed the way he was able to make the reader feel just as if that person was walking next to O’Hara and experiencing all the different bits and pieces that make his poems so relatable. Unfortuanlly for me I did not see anyone else on our walk besides Lauren and Leonardo so those are the only other people/ pets that are mentioned in my poem. I didn’t want to copy completely off of O’Hara so I had already decided that while it might make writing the poem easier if I wrote the poem about going to Mr. Smiths café or some other kind of eatery, instead I just wanted to take a slice out of my day, time that I usually spend doing just another normal every day thing. Creating a poem out of a trivial task for me is the essence of O’Haras work. He would just write his compelling poems about small jaunts he would go on, say to lunch (aka lunch poems) or about the interesting people that he would pass or talk to throughout the course of the day.
Another aspect of O’Haras work that I enjoyed would be when he refers to name brand items. For example in his poem when he references back to Coca-Cola instead of saying soda or pop or whatever they called that stuff back then. I tried to do the same in my poem when I wrote about what brand of cigarettes versus just writing out cigarettes or ciggys or whatever. O’Hara often also refers back to the weather of the particular day he was experiencing. Again I tried to recreate that in my poem by writing about what month it was and how windy it actually was. I tried to show this when I wrote about the smoke being caught up in the wind, also near the start of my poem I mention that it was a cold and windy day. The only thing I wish that would have happened differently in my poem could maybe have been the introduction of some other person. However the sidewalk was empty, and all the neighbors were shut up inside their own warm houses. All in all I think I enjoyed working on this poem, I think my favorite thing was waiting for a good time/inspiration to write this poem about. I had no faith in my ability to mirror Berryman, (way to difficult to write about mr. bones and such) but I am happy with the way the poem turned out and look forward to writing more poems in the style like O’Hara does in his Lunch Poems.