tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25364663181045244352024-03-05T03:43:09.419-08:00Nate's BlogA great blog.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-66393316341304173842012-01-18T18:57:00.000-08:002012-01-18T19:07:40.714-08:00Analysing Macbeth Through Themes and Film.<br />
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1. a. Banquo: “You should be women, </div>
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And yet your
beards forbid me to interpret </div>
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That you are so.”
(I. III. 46-48)</div>
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b. This is where
Banquo and Macbeth first meet the “weird sisters” or witches. Macbeth is ecstatic to see witches because
they fascinate him. This quote shows how
Banquo is not as big a fan of witches as Macbeth. However, later, when they inform Macbeth of
his fate to become the king of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Scotland</st1:country-region></st1:place>,
Banquo thinks better of the witches and asks of his own fate.</div>
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c. In the movie, cinematic
devices such as low key lighting and ominous music feed the eerie feeling the
witches are meant to create. The dimly
lit basement room in which the scene takes place enhances the chilling
atmosphere. The way the witches speak in
unison or in an impractical, riddled manner also develops the creepy mood.</div>
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Robert Goold also
utilizes a shot-reverse-shot editing technique to highlight the disjointedness
of Macbeth and Banquo’s conversation with the witches. Lastly the use of a prop plays into the
quote’s theme of things not always being as they seem. The prop is an IV stand with a bag of blood
attached, the witches dress it up as a man, from a distance it may have seemed
a man, when in reality it was just an IV.
The blood may also be significant foreshadowing of the violent deeds to
come.</div>
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<br /></div>
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d. Watching and
hearing this quote though the medium of film definitely improved my
understanding. The specific quote seemed
less important after watching the film because the mood of the scene as a whole
was emphasized above what Banquo says. I knew the quote fell along the lines of
things not always being as they seem, but I had not truly understood the
sinister atmosphere the scene was meant to create.</div>
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2. a. <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place>: “Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't:<br />
Their hands and faces were all badged with
blood;<br />
So were their daggers, which unwiped we found<br />
Upon their pillows:” (II. III. 111-114)</div>
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b. Following <st1:city w:st="on">Duncan</st1:city>’s murder at the hands of Macbeth, <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place>
reports back with what he saw. He thinks
the guards had killed <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Duncan</st1:place></st1:city>
initially because that is how Lady Macbeth had tried to make it seem. <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place>,
being the honest, loyal man he is would not have believed otherwise. <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place> knows
Macbeth and all the other noblemen as honorable and does not suspect any of
them of treason, even if the evidence that points to the guards is shaky at
best.</div>
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c. <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place>’s
words are a very literal example of things not always being as they seem. It seems like the guards murdered <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Duncan</st1:place></st1:city> although in
actuality it was Macbeth. In the movie this scene is lit pretty well, but not
quite high key, in general Macbeth’s home seems a bit murky throughout. Deception is emphasized, there are many
multi-character shots and eye level camera angles to enhance the abundance of
conversation that is taking place. Most
characters are in shock. However, the
way Patrick Stewart portrays Macbeth makes him seem suspicious if not
guilty. The addition of non-diegetic,
foreboding music adds to this tone of deception.</div>
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d. After observing
this scene in the Macbeth film my understanding changed little. I understood when reading that there were
suspicions abound and that many believed Lady Macbeth’s setup. However, when I watched the scene I saw
Macbeth’s body language and his faked sense of shock. I also understood just how naïve <st1:place w:st="on">Lennox</st1:place> must be not to have suspected Macbeth.</div>
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3. a. Son: “Then
the liars and swearers are fools; for
there are liars and<br />
swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up
them.” (IV. II. 59-60)<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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b.
After Macduff flees to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">England</st1:country-region></st1:place>
to contact Malcolm, Macbeth takes out Macduff’s family in their own home. Macduff’s son provides this quote accurately
describing the situation at hand in a discussion with his mother. Macduff’s son is very intelligent, his words
are wise and his support for both his parents is imminent. It is incredible that a child sees the corruption
in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Scotland</st1:country-region></st1:place>
and realizes that the proportion of good honest men to the proportion of liars
and fools is skewed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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c.
The lighting at this moment of the film was relatively high key. The fact the scene had no noise other than
the family’s discussion created tension and stressed what the characters were
saying. The camera angle used was a high
angle, this increased the feeling of helplessness Lady Macduff and her family
must have felt after Macduff’s departure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The characters also receive a lot of soft
lighting which portrays them as innocent and benign. When Macbeth and the murderers enter just
moments later and murder the family, the camera angle changes to a lower level
to portray Macbeth and his entourage as powerful and ruthless. The scene highlights the contrast between
good and evil and Macbeth’s corruption.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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d.
When I read this quote it stood out to me as significant because of its
direct reference to corrupted people.
When I heard this quote in the film my understanding shifted a bit. I realized the son was trying to reason with
and comfort his mother rather than just make a profound statement. Seeing Macduff’s family slaughtered furthered
my understanding of just how evil Macbeth becomes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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4. a. Malcolm: “I am young; but something<br />
You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom<br />
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb<br />
T'appease an angry god.” (IV. III. 16-20)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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b. When Macduff
arrives in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">England</st1:country-region></st1:place>
he tries to gain Malcolm’s trust.
Malcolm knows better, or at least thinks he knows better. In another example of things not always being
as they seem, the cautious heir to the late King Duncan, Malcolm, is not sure
who to trust. He has taken great care in
enlisting the help of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">England</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
and because he does not know why he came, Malcolm is wary that Macduff may be
treacherous. He assumes that Macbeth
killed his father, and doesn’t want to suffer the same fate.</div>
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<br /></div>
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c. The scene takes
place during a musical performance, Malcolm is relaxing, this makes him seem
peaceful. The high key and front and
back lighting make it obvious that Malcolm and Macduff are good and are
treacherous only to Macbeth’s cause.
Medium shots and close up shots connect the viewer to Malcolm and
Macduff’s pivotal conversation, the camera is also placed at eye level, giving
both a personable and human quality.</div>
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The scene is also
edited so that both Macduff and Malcolm are always shown, connecting the
characters and suggesting a sort of alliance.</div>
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<br /></div>
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d. Watching this
scene was similar to reading it. At this
point I understood that Macduff wanted to ally himself with Malcolm. After watching the film I saw how truly
fearful Malcolm was of possible assassins and perfidious Scotsmen. The way he addresses Macduff, a friend, shows
just how apprehensive he is about anything relating to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Scotland</st1:place></st1:country-region> and
Macbeth.</div>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-60885557791605274072011-12-08T04:48:00.001-08:002011-12-08T05:17:54.875-08:00Oedipus and Antigone Test<div style="background-color: transparent;">
<span id="internal-source-marker_0.13794319587759674" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If fate is how one’s path is actually determined it would not be possible to alter fate through free will. In a world where fate controls all, free will can be had in a superficial sense. What is perceived as choice, would in actuality, be a predetermined decision decided by fate. There is no way to cheat or change fate because every attempted juke, escape, or evasion is already expected and accounted for by the higher power who determined said destiny.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a world without fate, where free will governs all, futures can be changed and paths can be adjusted. If someone desires a car, they can go buy the car they want, if someone wants to climb a mountain, they can try. However in any instance where free will seems to be determining, it could be argued that fate had planned the choices and results all along. Even in this free will controlled world wouldn’t certain things still be decided by fate? Can free will explain a person’s situation at birth? It must be fate that decides an individual’s initial wealth, poverty, gender, complexion, and background. However it was the parents of the individual’s choice to procreate.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The real world is likely governed by both free will and fate. Acts, such as, being lazy, working hard, or being polite are all freely done. The repercussions from the prior actions is where fate comes in. For example, if a poor old beggar is graciously taken in, they may pay back the person who housed them if they become successful later on. It may be free will that makes the person give the beggar a home, but they have no control whether or not the beggar becomes successful, reverts to his former state, or even dies.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is not usually OK to lie. In general, the truth will hurt less than lies. However, there are times when lying is the only option and is the considerate thing to do. When accused, lying is one of the most viable options, if someone can be thrown under the bus for self benefit it’s easy to do, but this kind of behavior must be avoided for the sake of morality and a clear conscience.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In some cases, lying is best for the conscience. I have a friend who was caught with various bits of stolen state property. When caught, he lied, and told the police officer he had stolen all of the merchandise. In actuality his friends stole the majority of the property and he lied to protect them. This was a truly selfless act, achieved through lies.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Personally I have been lied to before. It’s very troubling when a lie is transparent but the truth cannot be known. Nobody likes to be deceived, when I ask a question I want a truthful answer, not some sugarcoated lie. Although the truth can be painful, it helps people grow and better themselves. Even if lying creates less pain initially it will result in misguided growth, which can ultimately destroy a person.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sigmund Freud’s Oedipus complex is the childhood desire to sleep with one’s mother and kill the father. The complex is named after an ancient Greek play written by Sophocles where a man by the name of Oedipus, through various twists of fate, ends up killing his father and bedding his mother. Within the Oedipus complex there is some truth.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Oedipus complex consists of 5 stages of human sexual development. Starting with the oral phase and ending with the genital phase. There is truth to some of these phases, such as the “latency period” when a child’s sexual development is suspended and the focus is more on the assertion of independence. This stage explains much of the gender separation present within groups of children ranging from ages 7 to 12. It also parallels with the preteen desire to separate from their parents, especially in public.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">However, not all of the Oedipus complex seems like truth. For example the second and third stages of sexual development where children begin to admire their feces and later find emptying their bladders pleasurable seem questionable. Young children, when first trained to properly use a toilet are overjoyed at their first poop, Freud says this happiness is due to the fact the child has, “created something of his or her own”. This assertion is questionable, couldn’t the child’s happiness be due to the fact they completed a task and did something right? The third stage, when children find urinating pleasurable is also questionable. The child could simply be happy they are no longer burdened with a full bladder. Also the child must have experienced urination prior to year 4, they must have understood its usefulness then.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Antigone’s determination and resolve is unmatched within the Theban royalty of the Oedipus trilogy. Antigone gets the courage to break the law and risk death from her feeling of being inferior due to her looks. She wants to do something that will make her better than her beautiful sister Ismene, who refuses to disobey Creon, also, she felt it right for her brother to be buried.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">People follow rules every day. Many break the law and even sometimes bend it. At the High School there are many rules. I frequently break the rule requiring students to carry a hall pass indicating where they are going. I break it because, quite simply, it is not enforced. I also see it as unnecessary, why make students, especially well behaved ones, waste time filling out a slip of paper when they’ll be back in 5 minutes? I don’t just break rules nonchalantly, the rule has to be either worthless or worth breaking for convenience.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One rule I bend is the cell-phone policy, technically students are never supposed to use them over the course of the day. I figure, as long as I only use it at break, study, and lunch, it should be allowed, as long as it’s not being used disrespectfully in opposition to a specific classroom’s rules. I only bend rules when they seem a little too strict. If they serve a purpose, but not all the time, they are worth bending.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I follow many more rules than I break and bend because I understand their respective purposes. I follow the rule of not using drugs because I understand their malicious potential and why they are banned. A fair law is one that not only serves a purpose, but can be applied to any situation equally. An unfair law is one that serves a purpose, but the purpose it serves is either outdated of less important than what it prohibits.</span></div>
</div>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-74158068724976622542011-11-09T04:52:00.000-08:002011-11-14T17:23:00.581-08:00Siddhartha Comes to New England<span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" id="internal-source-marker_0.8573856993882765" >“All the way from India?”, I asked.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“The path is not always short, but I listened to the ocean, its voice changed daily, I found worth in my travel. I learned much from listening to the water in the deep sea,” answered Siddhartha.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Oh, I almost forgot, you lived by the river as a ferryman (pg. 139) and learned from the river, I assumed the Ocean wouldn’t have a voice. It must’ve taken weeks to come to America by boat!”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Time does not exist when time is just an illusion to contemplate (107).”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Everything you say is intriguing, almost riddle like.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“On the path to enlightenment the world seems that way.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >Later when we got back to my home I told Siddhartha where we would be visiting. He was very exited about my first suggestion but hesitant on the second.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I mustn’t return to a place of dice playing and nausea (82),” pleaded Siddhartha</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Sometimes it’s good to go back, just to see what it is like from a different perspective,” I explained.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“You are right Nate I do have a new, and different perspective, it may be helpful.”</span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal">After about an hours drive we finally arrived at a parking lot near the woods. As we journeyed through the forest Siddhartha experienced some déjà-vu.</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“This reminds me of my time as an ascetic, as a samana,” He said, “I learned to master my body and mind, neither hunger nor time could stop my quest.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I can’t even imagine living in the forest without supplies or food for a week let alone a few years. You must have been very determined.” I said.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >Eventually we arrived at the true destination, Bash Bish Waterfall. Siddhartha was amazed at the peacefulness of the setting. The Waterfall was not even a mile inland from the busy street we had once been on. After a bit of quiet meditation Siddhartha spoke.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“The water has a clear voice, but it is delivering an almost cryptic message.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“What is it saying?” I inquired.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Fallen.” Siddhartha said, and a long pause ensued.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Are you sure?”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I am sure, the wise old ferryman taught me well, he taught me how to listen(106) and I have made no mistake, the waterfall says fallen.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I do not doubt your skill, but I wanted to be sure, there is an old tale about this waterfall. A Native American girl once jumped off the cliff in distress during her day, I should have known this might be unsettling.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“No, it is good, I have learned that water can carry even unsettling messages.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >The next day, I told Siddhartha it was time to go to Mohegan Sun. Unlike the last time I told him, he was excited.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I can’t wait to see this world from an alternate perspective!”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“I’m glad to see you have no reservations about this venture,” I replied excitedly.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >When we arrived at the Casino the lights and sounds filled our eyes and ears. We walked past tables of gamblers, some winning big, some losing large. Siddhartha spoke.</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“This reminds me of the anxiety I so readily felt back in the city, the anxiety I always sought so hard to renew, the anxiety(79) that buried my old self but also humbled it for when I dug it up from its premature grave on the fateful day by the river.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“So do you enjoy this reminiscing?”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal"></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >“Yes, very much so, it was the turning point in my life, and I had since sought to forget that life, but now, I embrace it, it brought me to enlightenment.”</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normalcolor:#ffffff;" >When it was time to say goodbye to Siddhartha I was sad. His internal happiness often made me smile and feel happy myself(151-152). His happiness exuded to those around him and everyone he met was also sad to see him go. As I thought about my trips with Siddhartha I realized neither resulted in the same way I expected.<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal">I expected the trip to the waterfall would make Siddhartha happy, to make him gleam with happiness, but contrarily, he was mildly disturbed. However he learned from something, the water, something he had spent so much time with in the past once again.<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal">The casino was interesting as well, I expected Siddhartha to be uncomfortable, uneasy about being in a place filled with gambling. I figured it would remind him of the darkest days of his life, instead it made him truly realize they were some of the most life altering he had ever had.</span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal"></span></span>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-29236181310285527082011-10-13T10:25:00.000-07:002011-10-19T05:17:56.588-07:00The Unkown<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline" id="internal-source-marker_0.2148776664486225">Author's Note: I chose this essay above the other two because I had a good time writing it. I felt that it was the best written and most original of my three essays. </span></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I think my essay uses unique words effectively, however </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I think my essay might take too long to get to the point. </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">After reading my essay is it clear that I enjoy nature, the mystery of unknown places, and reading and writing fiction?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span><br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">About a week ago the landscape was a wasteland, dried grass and leafless trees were commonplace. Now however, little green buds spot the trees which stood dormant for the last 3 months. The grass is a tinge of green. Spring has begun.<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">In a few weeks the buds have opened and the trees have filled their branches with adolescent leaves. The grass now has significant color and life flows through the landscape. This time of year is one of the best times for a hike.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-variant: normal; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" >The hillside forest is quiet as I travel upwards, through the hills, occasionally trailblazing and finding a new path. The clean, cool air fills my lungs rejuvenating my body as the world around me continues its renaissance.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">When I reach the peak, I stand on one a rock protruding from the mountain. I look out at the valley below and see a vast wilderness. I see an abundance of trees, a winding river, and perhaps a few little open fields. This is the world that interests me. The uncharted world, the untrodden path, the road less traveled, beckons, perhaps leading to a secret world, or a long forgotten relic.<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">On the other side of the mountain there lies a town in stark contrast with mysterious wilds present just a few miles away. It’s a shame the known has replaced the unknown. If there is nothing that is unknown, how can we dream, imagine and think about what there might be out there.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-variant: normal; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" >New ideas are spawned from a lack of knowing. Children’s dreams yield the most interesting fantasies. Their minds constantly invent things to fill the holes that their real world knowledge cannot. They are not skeptics, they are believers. Imagination is something that needs to be preserved, without it the world cannot have vision.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">There is however one remedy to knowledge and that is fiction. Stories can bring optimism, and evoke creativity. The reading and construction of an exceptional work of fantasy or science fiction should be something that is savored, an escape from the restraining confines of reality.<br /><br /></span><span style="FONT-VARIANT: normal; FONT-STYLE: normal; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; TEXT-DECORATION: none">The downward return journey from the top of the mountain is short. The quick descent reminds me of how fast things can change and encourages me to live my life both in the moment and looking forward.</span></span>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-61986815502254631302011-09-10T10:10:00.000-07:002011-09-10T10:31:38.716-07:00Assignment #2, Love (27-30); Spin (31-38)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgWGTqZIWg55LKn5cluXrLJAriGY7iYv1s6rhvBGWbQL7HEtJAF9B9jWe7QM4icbf9iYM3FLebOT3Wj9NW7nL8N5QJUdqvhHHirB9WuHCl2tHA0WrsInAxSOo7cG-r6WU-KP78LQU_6o-/s1600/Vietnam+Soldier+sepia.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650784839415160018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDgWGTqZIWg55LKn5cluXrLJAriGY7iYv1s6rhvBGWbQL7HEtJAF9B9jWe7QM4icbf9iYM3FLebOT3Wj9NW7nL8N5QJUdqvhHHirB9WuHCl2tHA0WrsInAxSOo7cG-r6WU-KP78LQU_6o-/s320/Vietnam+Soldier+sepia.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">After reading the second chapter of The Things They Carried I couldn’t believe Jimmy Cross still loved Martha. It was incredible that even though she showed no emotion towards Jimmy he still loved her. Even though his wandering thoughts about her cost Lavender his life and even though he had no chance with her, he still loved her. It is sad to think Jimmy may live his whole live hoping Martha will love him back.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;"><br />I like the way the O’Brien switched the setting, both away from Vietnam and into the future. It was a very good way of focusing more on Lieutenant Cross and how his life turned out. O’Brien could have added suspense and held out on further information until the end of the book, but the book isn’t just about Lieutenant Cross and Martha. It will be interesting to see if Lieutenant Cross actually does manage to become a more focused leader as the book continues.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;"><br />I pictured in my head a montage of memories after reading chapter 3. The way O’Brien remembers the majority of the war is quite interesting. The eclectic excerpts like the recollection of a one legged Vietnamese child and inter-squad jokes paint a bigger picture. Together all these memories create an image of the Vietnam War, an alternative image that highlights the relatively non-violent aspects of these soldiers’ downtime periods.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;"><br />I’d like to learn more about what happened at the end of Chapter 3. Near the end of chapter 3 there is a series of memories. The outside of a village, a hand grenade, a dead malnourished young man, and Kiowa’s three lines of dialogue that follow indicate something traumatic that happened. I can only assume Tim O’Brien, threw the grenade into the village and unintentionally killed the probably innocent poor man. Perhaps this is one of the things he has to carry forever.</span></div></div>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-49968237376863502872011-09-09T19:44:00.000-07:002011-09-12T14:43:00.998-07:00Assignment #1, The Things They Carried (1-26)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQez2cFgd0YldpIGejtfqut9xpk-u1pLv5GKNvjcoIThTYwviHwtH8lryua9XrIfKXKMGFNDZvXGUYJ_trLNN_l8JxFES4RJHrVq1fBTnn_ChcELhzbgaip9_zIYfgzbm3_qbQquKbCW67/s1600/Vietnam+soldiers+sepia.jpg"><span style="color:#ffffff;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 312px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650784038679732402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQez2cFgd0YldpIGejtfqut9xpk-u1pLv5GKNvjcoIThTYwviHwtH8lryua9XrIfKXKMGFNDZvXGUYJ_trLNN_l8JxFES4RJHrVq1fBTnn_ChcELhzbgaip9_zIYfgzbm3_qbQquKbCW67/s320/Vietnam+soldiers+sepia.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">(1.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Like the soldiers in <em>The Things They Carried</em>, I would carry something tangible if I were in a war or war-like situation. Besides standard issue gear and necessities I wouldn’t carry many physical items. I would carry a picture of my family. I might also carry interesting pieces of literature like newspaper articles or a favorite book.</span><br /></span><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">I would carry the picture of my family to always remember they were back home and remind me if I ever lost hope that I had something to live for. I might bring interesting thought provoking literature to take my mind off the current situation. Sometimes it’s best not to think of the danger you’re in, and when that peril is glaring, you need something to help distract you. </span></div><br /><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">The photo of my family would be symbolic of how I would carry my family with me. My family is the most important thing in the world for me and if I ever were to forget about them I may lose hope. Literature is important because reading can be an escape from reality. When there is no television or games to distract you from reality, books can be a good substitute. </span></div><br /><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">(2.) </span></div><br /><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">Aside from tangible items, I would also carry intangible items. Something intangible I might carry would be memories. Things like dinner with my family, or playing baseball with the blue sky overhead. Perhaps even the memory of the feelings associated with victory or success. </span></div><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;">The memories of baseball and family dinner would be relaxing, a reminder of the peaceful world that exists back home. It would be a good defense against the belief that gruesome war is the true, real world. Lastly in a war like Vietnam or Afghanistan there aren’t many obvious, decisive victories and the memory of what victory or success feels like could somewhat supplement its absence thereof.</span>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2536466318104524435.post-42229291035661436912011-09-08T09:13:00.000-07:002011-09-09T07:54:55.071-07:00Into the Hindu Kush<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRxiQkl5jhc7dPUFIJXphd5XZdCoS0dpB3VMjtpRWFllAOTTtaoPvgQftCQCYWCrzM0IlS9U0H5Wxl9-cv3xDhFoyN6KhZhEYrDy06t3GNe8JdpyOTiteMEkurmlEE5ZXZYeYNWlAVe3-/s1600/Hindu+Kush.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650027956842069218" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRxiQkl5jhc7dPUFIJXphd5XZdCoS0dpB3VMjtpRWFllAOTTtaoPvgQftCQCYWCrzM0IlS9U0H5Wxl9-cv3xDhFoyN6KhZhEYrDy06t3GNe8JdpyOTiteMEkurmlEE5ZXZYeYNWlAVe3-/s320/Hindu+Kush.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><br /><br /> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> (The Tiger & The Kite Runner)</span></span></span><br /><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Trush stepped down from his Kung<b>, </b>now appearing out of place on the dry, Afghani soil where he and his brothers fought so long ago. It took a lot for Yuri to leave his quiet home near Primorye, but this trip was important. He was no longer a member of Inspection Tiger but he remained worried about Udege Legend, the federal park that to this day, he still patrols.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With loaded rifle in hand Trush hurried inside the mud stained, dilapidated dwelling he had parked outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Inside was a stout Pakistani man, seeing that the informant was unarmed Trush set his gun down by the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><br /></p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Trush was called by the American embassy in Moscow to complete a special mission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This mission, however, was oddly labeled, “of minimum importance” and the text that followed was minimalist, “The assignment, should you accept it, is to travel into Afghanistan and retrieve an American novelist.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yuri accepted the assignment because of the reward, two million U.S. dollars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With that money he could improve his ability to watch over the federal park’s territory, and increase the tiger’s chance of regaining its prominence in the Russian wilderness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He assumed the Americans had called him, an aging, federally employed Russian Taiga patrolman, because he was generally familiar with the area from his time in the Soviet-Afghan war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The truth of the matter was that 30 others had been called upon but refused to accept the dangerous job, Washington was just steps away from calling in a seal team. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“His name is Amir, he came back to Afghanistan to seek inspiration for a new book,” explained the informant from across the rickety plywood table.<br /></p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“Any leads on where to start looking?” inquired Trush.<br /></p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“Does it matter? You’re good as dead, the Taliban still remain throughout these hills.” The informant frowned, his wrinkled, beard enshrouded face, seemed almost depressed by the prospect of another lost man. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Trush made it clear that he was the proper man for the job, “Have you ever looked a tiger in the eyes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Have you ever experienced the true heart shaking fear that comes from the distinct sound of their death growls, the ones they make just before they go in for the kill?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m used to a sleuthing silent threat, I can become the predator, if need be. I’m sure this Taliban will be a careless bunch, their tracks will be like a map to their plans, daily routines, patterns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m better prepared than any military operatives, just tell me where to go to find Amir, and I’ll bring him back.”<br /></p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“He is somewhere in the Hindu Kush, good luck finding him…”said the informer doubtfully. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">After thanking the informant Trush was on his way, travelling by Kung towards the Hindu Kush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yuri was wary of the threat the Taliban posed in the region, but he hadn’t known the mission would take place in the Hindu Kush, and this changed everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He had weeks worth of food and fuel and a small arsenal of weaponry delivered to him for this job while he was still in Russia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Grenades, rockets, and military grade rifles filled the Kung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now when he reached the Hindu Kush the Kung would have to be abandoned and hidden somewhere not even the Taliban would find it, a tough task in a mountain range most insurgents knew like the back of their hand. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">When Trush reached the base of the mountains he looked for an area to stow the Kung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He managed to park it in a ditch and covered it with a few branches, it looked a bit out of the ordinary, but it was the best he could do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Trush took a backpack with food and other necessities along with a reliable AK Soviet issue rifle, and a few grenades for good measure and began on his way through the Hindu Kush. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Throughout the following week Trush kept a low profile, there were some close encounters, but for the most part he went unnoticed through the mountain range.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Running low on options Yuri made way towards a makeshift Taliban camp in a mountainside alcove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finding a spot close enough to listen he risked it all, running from rock to rock until he reacted his desired position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Spectacularly he went unnoticed, but then again, these insurgents lacked the sharp instincts of a tiger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>While listening in on the camping men, he got word of a settlement somewhere atop the Hindu Kush, where they were keeping prisoners in the shattering cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Trush didn’t think such a settlement could exist atop the Hindu Kush, but if one did, it would be very easy to find.<br /></p><p style="text-align: center; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal" align="center">* * * </p><p style="line-height: 200%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"> The snow was all too familiar to Yuri Trush, crunching under his careful feet, he knew if he was close he needed to watch for mines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Noticing the shift in wind patterns Yuri thought he might be close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As he reached the crest of part of the mountain he spotted a dome shaped metal building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were two patrolling guards on the outside both wearing thick, fur filled, parkas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Trush took them out at a distance utilizing the howling wind and low visibility to conceal his shots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Soon he was inside the headquarters, it was no labyrinth, just a simple underground prison with minimal Taliban presence, all of the cells appeared empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eventually after a good amount of sneaking around Yuri found what he was looking for, Amir’s cell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Astoundingly Amir was present inside the cell, sleeping on a cement bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Trush hurried into a room containing a cache of keys and found one with the number matching that of Amir’s cell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After opening the door, Amir awoke within a second, quickly he recognized Yuri wasn’t a member of the Taliban. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"> “Are you Amir?” asked Yuri. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"> “Yes,” Amir replied in a tired voice. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"> It looked like he had been beaten and starved, his arms and legs were bloodstained and his eyes black. “I haven’t felt this broken down since my fight with Assef,” muttered Amir. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"> “Who?” Trush inquired. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Amir groaned and hunched over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yuri left and was back shortly with a parka, and other proper winter attire for Amir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>With one arm around Yuri, Amir was able to slowly make it to a small room where Yuri had set up an escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>An old 80’s snowmobile, mostly covered in rust was the only thing in the room besides a small garage door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After starting the engine both Amir and Yuri began their escape.<br /></p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Eventually they reached the end of the snow cap and had to begin the on foot descent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Amir wasn’t as broken as he first appeared, now able to journey slowly on foot with the aid of a makeshift cane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Trush was still out of the know regarding the details of the mission, “How did you get captured?” Yuri finally managed to ask the paining man. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Amir smiled, his cheeks raked with scrapes and cuts, “I looked at them the wrong way.” </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“The wrong way?” Trush questioned. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“I couldn’t help myself, I did the same thing a while back when looking for Hassan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My friend Farid warned me not to but for some reason I can’t resist the urge to look them in the eye, to try to understand them, I still can’t.” </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“Genocide is a shame in this world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Where I’m from in Russia, tigers are the victim, but people in Primorye have no choice, they can’t even afford to register their weapons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s sometimes hard to take their weapons away, it’s their life, hunting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This…what the Taliban is doing, isn’t the same.” </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">There was silence for a while, both men deep in thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>During the rest of the trip down the two didn’t converse much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They were drawn together by an unbelievable fate, from completely different worlds, there wasn’t much to talk about. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">In time they reached the Kung, where Yuri had left it, covered in brush, but more or less an obvious standout, only luck can be responsible for its remaining presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once on the road, Amir and Yuri felt a sort of relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“I tracked and killed a man eating tiger in Siberia, but never have I gone on a journey such as this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was younger then,” stated Yuri. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“Can’t you retire?” asked Amir. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“Can’t you stop returning to Afghanistan?” joked Yuri.</p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">They laughed, “I love my job,” explain Yuri. </p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">“And I love my home country,” said Amir.</p><p style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal">Later Amir wrote a novel about a hero, who went on a journey of a lifetime to save someone he knew nothing about, simply out of the kindness of his heart, and some good amount of cash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Of course like all Amir’s works it contained some irony.</p>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17581824879279683211noreply@blogger.com2