Analyzing a photograph

This photograph caught my eye immediately when I was browsing all options for this assignment. This photo combines many elements to evoke emotion from the viewer. The photograph appears to be expressive, showing the living and the dead in the same shot. The photo has both a landscape because of the clouds captured in the shot and subjects, being both the people standing and the people on the ground. The focus of the photograph is not clearly on one person or object, but on the scene as a whole. The angle and depth drew my eye first to the old woman leaning over the body at the far right of the scene. The clouds are also interesting in this picture because they were captured showing shadows, making the photograph ominous and adding contour. The light is natural, and soft, giving a realistic, raw look to the photo. The photo does a good job of portraying the emotion of the scene, and the woman in the foregrounds outstretched arms capture the pain and sadness of the situation. The puddle of water that shows the reflection of a man crouched over is another area of the photo that draws focus. The rough contour of the man's reflection also depicts the grief and anguish that the living are feeling as they wander among dead bodies. The artist's intention appears to evoke the powerful emotions that only comes with witnessing death, and through this image, he accomplishes that.

Dearest America

Dearest America,

The subject of war is usually a sore one to bring up in conversation, both with strangers and with friends. It is something bitter and sad, easy to disagree on, or awkward. Although at sticky subject, war is a perpetually occurring thing that can and should be talked about... because it is always there. Wars have happened, war is happening and war will happen. The hardest part about talking about it may be just getting started, but the more it is talked about, the more can be done about it. Communication is the best way to start. 

There are many ways to communicate, all of them being better than not talking at all. I think a really good way to talk about war is through blogs and the internet. I feel like the use of the internet eases the tension that face to face discussion of war usually generates. With a chat room, or posting on websites you can be honest, not attacked, and just get your feelings out. Through technology, we are able to have more types of interaction rather than just face to face conversations or even phone calls. If we use the internet to post ideas, questions and problems we have with war, it makes it easier for others to answer and bounce ideas off each other. The internet has already proved to be a good way to keep in touch with old friends, make new friends, find people who agree or disagree with you on any subject, and I think the subject of war is no different. The limits of the internet can be pushed so far and the subject of war is a great way to encourage communication. 

Martin Luther King Jr. said in his speech, Beyond Vietnam, "We still have a choice today: nonviolent coexistence or violent coannihilation. We must move past indecision to action," and today that statement still applies. The action he speaks of stems from communication and understanding, which is promoted by talking to each other. Citizens need to work together to better understand each other's views and be able to come together about war and the feelings it provokes. Martin Luther King Jr. presented a good idea in his speech, Beyond Vietnam, in saying that war concerns all citizens, even if you are not directly involved, everyone needs to work together to promote awareness when it comes to war. One of the best ways to promote awareness is through conversation, which needs to be started about war. The start of change is through communication, and it is time for us who live in and make up the country of America to start fueling change.

Matt Rotando's 104 blog

www.104aboutwar.blogspot.com

104 article assignment

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/04/08/seal.medal/index.html

This assignment came at a perfect time, as earlier in the day I had come across an article about the war in Iraq on CNN.com that interested me. It concerned a Navy SEAL, Michael Monsoor, who had given his life in Iraq to save his comrades. He was the first Navy SEAL  who received a Medal of Honor due to his actions in Iraq, although it was awarded to him after he died. He selflessly threw himself on a grenade that could have killed him and the other two soldiers he was with, but he took the full blast himself to save the lives of others. President Bush presented his parents with the Medal of Honor. The article caught my eye because the title was, "Navy SEAL paid ultimate price to save buddies," and I wondered what is the ultimate price to save your buddies? I read on to find out. Death.

This article makes a point to show the bravery and selflessness Michael Monsoor showed in Iraq. The author repeatedly reminds the reader that in a split second decision, he gave his life for the lives of his comrades. The tone of the article seems to be very respectful and honoring. Also, towards the end of the article, the author says, "Until this month, [...] few people knew of his story," which leads me to think the author wants this story and others like it to be known and appreciated more. The author describes Monsoor as "selfless" more than once, reiterating the fact that his instinct was to protect the lives of others, not his own. Perhaps the author would like to see more people with the mentality Michael Monsoor died with? I definitely would. 

I don't remember (oxymoron?)

I don't remember a lot of things. I don't remember stuff from when I was really young and we lived in places other than Flagstaff. I don't remember Oregon, or Kentucky. I don't remember all the crazy Texas Chainsaw Massacre people we moved away from. I don't remember being born! Haha...it's hard to remember what you don't remember, because if you remembered it then it wouldn't fall under the category of "don't remember" anyway. Very complicated. I don't remember life before cell phones and laptops and digital cameras. I don't remember what life was like without all that stuff. I couldn't imagine life without my phone now, which is permanently attached to my body. I don't remember details. Ever. I also don't remember birthdays. I know the birthdays, like if you asked me a few months ahead, I could probably tell you the date, but when it actually roles around, I'll forget. I don't remember my keys a lot. I always try to remember to do something; call someone, email someone, do something, but I usually don't remember it. I don't remember how I did all the homework I used to do in high school, or how I went to so many classes without blowing my head off. I don't remember how I paid attention and took in information, because now I suck at it. I don't remember a time where school didn't matter. That's actually interesting. My life has involved school for so long I don't remember the time where I wasn't going to school or going to go to school. I don't remember so much. 

I Remember

I remember when it was my birthday last week. I remember when I was in Spain with Kat and Kara and Katie, and we went out to Swing the very first night we were there, even though we were exhausted from a day of traveling. Swing doesn't open until 3 am, and they had never made it before. But we made it. And it wasn't that great. I remember dancing. For so many years of my life, in so many shows, with so many different costumes. We spent hours in the dressing rooms at Audrey Auditorium, playing with make up, eating food in the halls so Bonnie Matthews wouldn't yell at us, putting fake eyelashes on each other. Then the call over the intercom would say come up for warm up, and we would drag ourselves up for class, then run back down excitedly. Elizabeth would give us her motivational speech which would actually motivate us instead of just being something annoying. I remember when my mom got sick. Not the actual sickness, but the time we were in Las Vegas and she fell. We were upstairs....I don't remember what hotel it was now, but I remember what it looks life. We were upstairs with Uncle Don for his coin show. There were ugly bright green carpets with palm leaves and bold, tropical flowers, that you only see in Vegas. She fell, and everyone began going in slow motion. Paramedics came, and I was confused. Uncle Don was with me because my dad was busy with my mom. He was telling me it would be okay. I remember when Uncle Don died. I was still a kid, but when he died my only memory of him was from that time in Vegas with my mom. I remember happy things too. I remember Disneyland when I was eleven. And Seaworld. And all the trips to the Honolulu zoo as a child with my parents. I remember when my parents got divorced. That's not a happy memory, but there are some funny parts with it. I remember when my dad first moved out into the apartment and I went with him. I remember my little bedroom that had my own bathroom. We would watch 50 Cent rapping "In Da Club" every morning on MTV with breakfast before we went to school. We would throw fruit across the long living room almost every night, occasionally smashing an apple or orange. We would throw socks up and get them stuck on the fan and whoever got the most stuck would win. I don't know if he would like me broadcasting this story. I remember the snow. All the snow days, and when I was really little before the divorce, how my dad and I would go outside and play in it for hours. My mom would be inside and would bundle me up and my dad would only wear his jeans and his woolly hat. We would play for hours then come inside and my mom would yell at us for being out too long that we were both going to get sick. We would laugh and then probably do something else she didn't like. No wonder they got divorced huh?  

Lentil

Ten is key.

less crackers, rugs daily, my trail sniffle. toot. leisure, parliament do seal blue key. Carl ate over pressed doohickey, less rally. Crouton less bat at lions in mass dance. leaf you.

Ten is cool. fall elephants boy E.T. fate, descent, millions do hum a tad. Futon. Pokey warts. Dance late, dance to herbie, dance to join a tour, o pookie, ficus, homie, saint, men. 

Illest undo key write ax naps damn I see

Dismantle all incense

ax

grants call. ices door key

dance beserk. dispose anna's end or-

It say reveal wand this mirrors, hennessey, dance angrily. Eat plural soup via bunny noise, whodunnit ungross soup lie dance lemur munchkin.