First Love by John Clare

Posted: February 14, 2013 in Uncategorized

First Love


I ne’er was struck before that hour
   With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
   And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale,
   My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
   My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
   And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
   Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
   Words from my eyes did start—
They spoke as chords do from the string,
   And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?
   Is love’s bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
   Not love’s appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
   As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
   And can return no more.

Everyone growing up has some kind of aspirations or goals that they want to achieve in life. For most people, it’s getting a certain job they like or making a lot of money. The key to achieving goals in life is hard work; if someone really wanted something, and they were willing to work for it, they would have a pretty good chance of getting what they want. On the other hand, if they just skim through life, waste their opportunities, and just hope for the best without doing anything about it, they will most likely not get it.

This relates to the story in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman in which many of the characters have dreams and aspirations. Biff is a good example of someone who had dreams but did not work for them, since he never studied. Willy had dreams of being popular and rich, but obviously neither of those came true either. Happy achieved what he thought were his dreams, like money, an apartment, and plenty of women, but even with all that did not seem content with his life.

American Dream

Posted: January 17, 2013 in Uncategorized

Eugene and I’s post

A Noiseless Patient Spider
by Walt Whitman

A noiseless, patient spider, 
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; 
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding, 
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself; 
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you, O my Soul, where you stand, 
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, 
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them; 
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold; 
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
I appreciated this poem in a sense that it had a nice subliminal meaning behind it. At first he does an exquisite job setting up your mental picture of what’s going on and portraying the such precise details that would please a quidnunc. Then he shows you that the spider was just a metaphor for his soul, which is longing someone to latch onto, much like a spider would with its web.
“A noiseless, patient spider, 
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; 
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,”
I liked this line a lot because it was perfectly descriptive. And the third line in which he says “to explore the vacant, vast surrounding” sets up the metaphor for his soul.
“And you, O my Soul, where you stand, 
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, 
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,”
This is where he starts talking about his soul. I enjoyed this because he’s describing how his soul was empty and surrounded in ‘measureless oceans of space’ just moving along. He’s pretty much saying that he’s lonely.
“Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.”
This is the last line of the poem and I felt like it tied the whole thing together. It brought back the spider metaphor by mentioning gossamer, which is a cobweb, and it also kept the idea that his lonely soul needs to catch somewhere, whether that be another person or a hobby.

Picture 16

Having just went on Pitchfork.comI couldn’t help but notice the big sign portraying the name of the website. I also noticed the many categories they had on there for the reader to choose from, such as “Tracks”, “Artists”, “Best New Features”, and the section that I came looking for, “Reviews”. My search had finally come to an end, and as did my hopes when I saw that glaring 1.6 rating…

As I helplessly sat there and read through Ian Cohen from Pitchfork’s brutal review of my favorite rapper Childish Gambino’s debut album Camp, I couldn’t help but cringe as he relentlessly attacked every aspect of Gambino’s rapping style over the length of five seemingly never-ending paragraphs. He repeatedly annunciated his belief that Chlidish Gambino is just a poor man’s Kanye West. He also denounced Childish Gambino’s abilities to put together great punchlines, mentioning only some of the less intricate ones on the album in place of more clever lines in order to portray him as someone who is unworthy of your time.

The only aspect that I did appreciate through this brutality is that Cohen had very stupendous writing skills and he was able to get his point across very well. He used examples that would help his case and utilized a lot of metaphors, similes, and a very intricate writing style. So while I did not appreciate his comments and feelings toward my favorite rapper’s debut album, at least I never once looked away from my computer screen until I read that last brutal line in which he brilliantly quoted a line from Kanye West’s song “All Falls Down”.


In the beginning of the year 2012, I was writing at a mediocre level and most of my blogs were rather uninteresting. There were no ‘big words’ put in to make it seem as though I have a stupendous vocabulary, and that every time you read one of my blog posts you would subconsciously learn a new word and broaden your vocabulary as well. The way in which they were written was not relatively elaborate either, as I left everything as simple as possible while only barely getting my point across to the reader. Progressively, they did somewhat improve over the months as I started writing more and more. That’s just the nature of an old saying ‘Practice makes perfect’. 

One area that I have recently been lacking in is that I haven’t inputted any pictures in a while. This is very counter-productive for me if I am to achieve to achieve my goal of attaining more regular followers. Pictures tend to aid the reader in fully capturing the what is being portrayed in the text. They tend to help the writer if he or she is lacking in writing skills/exquisite adjectives. And they can also help a reader who may be lacking a vast imagination.

In the play Othello, a 50 year old black foreigner marries a seventeen year old, white Venetian girl. This was not taken lightly by many people in Venice because he did not really fit into the normal mold of what they would expect Desdimona to marry. Even her own father was not particularly happy with the thought of her marrying Othello but did reluctantly give them his blessing only to later die of a heart attack because of his disapproval.

Just like in Othello, in today’s world, if you were to walk down the street and you saw an old man and a young girl walking down the street, you’ll immediately think she’s a gold digger not once considering that there is a possibility that they are actually in love. Also, interracial couples tend to raise some eyebrows from people who are old-fashioned and maybe a little close minded. With that said, if you were to see a combination where there is a significant age difference between them, the man being about four times as old as her, and also a difference skin color, there will be some people that would find that weird. Not necessarily because they don’t agree with it, but because it’s not really that common so they’re not used to seeing it.

This play shows us that people back in the day were extremely against Othello and Desdimona’s marriage, and their deaths signified that it could not work out. While today I believe a marriage like this could last longer because people are (or at least are supposed to be) taught that you should never judge someone because they are different. I strongly believe in this and would not see it as a taboo at all, but would actually commend them them because they were able to find love.