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What We (Should) Learn in High School |
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Well, I felt in the blogging spirit, thus I must blog...warning, I'm trying to be creative in this one...I'm a writer...
Well, I was going to blog half an hour ago but I had a bearded dragon on my back...yeah...
Anyway, today I had one of the best classes I've basically ever had. It took place in English class. The always stuffy, hot, cramped, somehow comfortable English class. Portable six, to be percise.
Well, I don't know if you've ever read it, seeing as how I'm only typing this blog and "you" doesn't really exist...swish that around in your mouth for a while. So, as I was saying, I don't know if you've ever read it, but we're reading some of The Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters. It's an anthology about these dead people that are speaking from the grade. Wicked, isn't it? So we've read "Richard Bone" and "Lucinda Matlock." Ha, actually, I found them online, so if you don't mind....
Richard Bone
WHEN I first came to Spoon River I did not know whether what they told me Was true or false. They would bring me the epitaph And stand around the shop while I worked 5 And say "He was so kind," "He was wonderful," "She was the sweetest woman," "He was a consistent Christian." And I chiseled for them whatever they wished, All in ignorance of its truth. But later, as I lived among the people here, 10 I knew how near to the life Were the epitaphs that were ordered for them as they died. But still I chiseled whatever they paid me to chisel And made myself party to the false chronicles Of the stones, 15 Even as the historian does who writes Without knowing the truth, Or because he is influenced to hide it.
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Lucinda Matlock
I WENT to the dances at Chandlerville, And played snap-out at Winchester. One time we changed partners, Driving home in the moonlight of middle June, And then I found Davis. 5 We were married and lived together for seventy years, Enjoying, working, raising the twelve children, Eight of whom we lost Ere I had reached the age of sixty. I spun, I wove, I kept the house, I nursed the sick, 10 I made the garden, and for holiday Rambled over the fields where sang the larks, And by Spoon River gathering many a shell, And many a flower and medicinal weed— Shouting to the wooded hills, singing to the green valleys. 15 At ninety-six I had lived enough, that is all, And passed to a sweet repose. What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness, 20
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So those are the two poems, I hope somebody read them, otherwise this blog isn't going to make much sense. If you don't want to read them, don't bother reading this at all, you lazy little b*****d. Moving on.
So I just wanted to make a few notes on them.
First, "Richard Bone." For those of you who don't understand, he's telling the story of when he's alive. But he is now dead...All right. So, we've been learning in English class about how these poems are trying to reveal something about our society, and it so does. The people of Spoon River are just like people today...at least the one's I've met. They make themselves out to be better than they really are. They don't know that they have bad points, and they just want Bone to carve what they want. He's a history writer basically, and he's writing these clouded myths.
I guess what shakes me up so much about it is the fact that the future generations will have no idea how much of dicks their ancestors were. They will think everything was perfect. Then they won't want to change...history will repeat itself. If we don't reveal what's ******** up about our society and society's past then we're doomed to go in a huge circle until we're finally dizzy and we fall. We're doomed to fall until we realize the mistakes we have made and accept them, change them. No more clouded myths of perfection, we need truth.
Ok, I've had enough yelling about that poem, let's move on to the next one. Lucinda Matlock good old Lucy. She had to work all her life, she gave birth to twelve children, and had to witness eight of them die. She had this horrible life, and yet what does she choose to talk about more? The larks and the valleys and the woods. These beautiful things...she enjoyed the simple pleasures of life. She doesn't complain about her life, she embraces it. Like my English teacher said "If there's anyone that has the right to complain, it's her!" And she doesn't complain! She then goes on to accuse the younger generations of wasting away their lives, in anger and grief, sorrow and weariness, pain and hatred. Students today accused her of bragging about dealing with these problems.
I've been thinking...yes she does brag, but if she didn't no one would listen to her. Imagine some rich, powerful, snobby, ******** hoity-toit coming up to you, yes, you, and saying "Hey, suck it up! Life is magical, life is wonderful! Shut your whining." What would you do? Well, any normal human being would either punch him in his face or laugh in it. Me, I would do both, but that's another story for another day. So, you wouldn't listen to him basically. But say this man or woman, who's experienced so much hardship, MORE hardship than YOU, walks up to you, with a smile on her face and tells you not to worry, to find the better things in life. to "Suck it up! Life is magical, life is wonderful!" Well, you would be completely and utterly shocked. You would feel ashamed of yourself. You, who complains about having too much homework, or not eating what you wanted to eat that night, or having to turn the remote over to your older sibling, whatever it may be. You probably haven't been through what Lucinda's been through, yet you hate your life while she thinks it's goddamn grand! Would you punch her or scoff at her? Well I goddamn hope not, or you really got issues, you sicko. So, what I'm saying is that if she didn't brag, she wouldn't matter.
This poem is completely relevant to today's "emo" society. Really people, we, INCLUDING ME, need to realize that we need to love life. We need to pull our heads up, and be happy for once. Because "It takes life to love Life." Why waste our lives away in pain, when we can be happy? Situations themselves are neutral, it is you who decides what you make of it.
I don't mean to sound like a world-lovin, hand-holdin wackjob, but you've got to understand what I'm saying here. We need to be happier. No more beer, or weed, or hallucinogens, they don't do s**t. We need to make sure we know these problems are there and either like them, or change them.
Holy s**t, I actually learned this in class. We discussed most of what I'm discussing with you. Not all, because I've done some hard thinking, but most. You know what this means? That she broke through to us. We learned s**t in school, and she tricked us into learning it! We learned about classic poetry and about life lessons. WHY DON'T WE DO THIS s**t EVERYDAY? If we don't do this, if we don't trick kids into learning, like my English teacher did today, then students will just forget it all. We only like to learn about what we care about. This lesson can basically be applied to any lesson. History, science, English. I think math is helpless though...they're only numbers...but hell, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we can find something deeper in math. That's not my job though.
I hope I'm getting through to anyone...god I just want someone to listen to me for once. I don't wish to be wasting breath here, I want people to read this and walk away with something, anything.
We need to accept and change our problems, love life, and always look for the deeper meanings in things.
That's it.
Oh, and I'd like to mention that I'm not high. This all came from my noggin, not a drug. Nifty, huh?
Screaming Lord Byron · Thu Apr 17, 2008 @ 04:34am · 0 Comments |
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