The pen might actually be the sword

        Recently, I was asked to reflect on the process of writing a substantial paper. At first my mind was flooded with thoughts like "what a chore this will be," "what sort of vale could anyone derive from reading this," and my personal favorite, "I have trouble seeing the merit in taking action." The last one could be thought of as my philosophy that guides most of my action, or the lack thereof. It comes as no surprise, then, that the manner in which I churn out a piece of original writing is rooted in my inherent laziness.
        When do I start writing? There are several cases. The first is when my brain decides that the consequences of not writing are dire, as with the rhetorical analysis second draft. The next, less prevalent case is when I decide, for no particular reason, that writing would be fun. I relish the chance to make myself seem smart, and writing can be an enjoyable experience when an appropriate audience is involved. I began writing this blog post for a combination of both of the above reasons.
        The location where I write is hugely important. My personal experience has told me that any attempt to write something meaningful in a crowded or public area would be completely futile. Even in my own house, I am not free to write anywhere. In any location where it is possible that someone could be looking over my shoulder, I  do not feel safe writing. I strictly limit myself to trying to write things from the safety and comfort of my own bed. The following cliche is definitely overused, but it fits well here: I form my own personal "sanctuary" when deeply involved in the writing process. I attempt to shut out all outside influences and focus on drudging meaning from the thoughts in my head and the emotions in my heart. If the piece I'm writing is strictly persuasive, I try to balance the two impulses, knowing fully that my audience consists of other people.
        There is actually only one place where I actually feel free to say what's on my mind. On internet forums, while I don't believe that I'm free from having my writing be judged aggressively, there is something very different, and very good, about the writing process while posting on anonymous forums. The internet is a place where you can let your inhibitions run wild, and say whatever the **** you want. But only a part of the internet allows this. For example, I blatantly censored the word **c* back there. There is something very therapeutic about writing blindly to an unknown audience, it allows all of the emotions that society wants you to bottle up to escape and prevent pressure failure. When everyone is anonymous, you begin to see other posters as facets of a greater community rather than strictly individual adversaries.
       While writing with conviction is important, in order to appear strictly logical you must find a way to prevent damaging emotions from surfacing in your writing. Being involved in an online forum is like having a convenient and ever-accessible pressure-release valve on the heavy metal tanks of emotion. Therefore, before every large writing project, I allow myself at least one hour of free browsing and commenting time on a forum which will not be named here. The need to write at top mental condition is great, so I think this is fair.

Re: The performance of the American Educational system

        It isn't hard to find someone who would argue that the American education system could use some improvement.  And there is some objective truth to this. The United States currently ranks 25th (source http://www.infoplease.com/ipa/A0923110.html) in the world for Math education by country. Apart from that, there are a large amount of students in remedial education that hardly get any attention. Two works, which I analyze today, illustrate these facts. "Two Million Minutes" is a documentary that compares the lives of two students from the US, India, and China, and uses the comparison as representative of the entire systems. "I Just Wanna be Average" is an essay that is an excerpt from Mike Rose's Lives on the Boundary, which illustrates his experience with the remedial education system.
        Two Million Minutes is essentially arguing that other developed nations (i.e. India and China) are trying harder to educate their students, and the students themselves are overall more motivated to work hard. American students are subtly portrayed as slightly lazy, while the Indian and Chinese students are often shown working hard to achieve their goals. While students here are playing football or watching television, the Chinese and Indian people are practicing the violin, or spending their time programming. In my opinion, this is a fairly accurate comparison of the educational cultures of both societies, ignoring the subtle bias. Of course this doesn't mean that China or India are better than the US, but there is definitely room for improvement over here.
        This fact might be most obvious when evaluating the performance of the remedial education system. By some twist of fate, the bright child Mike Rose was placed on the vocational-ed track, which was "a dumping ground for the disaffected." No impetus was placed on these kids to succeed, and none of their teachers ever expected anything of them. As such they lived up to the expectations. Again, the educational culture here may be blamed for this. The teachers can't be bothered to really try to educate their students because everyone else has already given up hope on them. Why even bother? The answers to this question are mostly subjective, but one could easily argue that a lack of serious education is an enormous waste of potential, even for those people who have already been given up on. You know a class is in trouble if the teacher has trouble even reading aloud from a history textbook. In my opinion, give people the option to learn, to succeed, and to live a happy life and they will jump at the opportunity when the need becomes apparent. But these things take time, of course.

Regarding the Back-to-School address by PotUS, Barack Obama

Following this sentence is a haphazard and amateurish rhetorical analysis of the Back-to-School address by President Obama:

I immediately notice the hand gestures to the audience, to begin the speech with a signal of familiarity. Obama seems to smile a lot, what a friendly person! He gives kudos to many people who he feels deserves recognition, establishing him as a humble person. He references his knowledge of school schedules to establish his trustworthiness. He clearly outlines his goals for the speech, and speaks passionately. I notice, specifically, that he gradually speaks louder when talking about essential points, or other important components of the speech. He emphasizes his own personal experience to improve his ethos. He emphasizes the importance of now, and the positive impact that current efforts will have on the future. He uses language "you guys, etc." and expresses genuine concern by speaking passionately, so that the listener has all the more of a motive to listen to him. He tone differs depending on what he's saying; for example, when he mentioned that his favorite subject in Middle School was basketball (lol, humor) he spoke in a light and jovial tone, but when he talked about the urgency of continuing education, he was serious and used a heavy tone. He has specifically tailored this speech to use reasonable appeals that would leave an impression on a student listener. He uses the pronoun "you" to familiarize himself with the audience ever further. The pointing wish his fingers was especially... Poignant (forgive me). The specific examples help to reinforce his hopeful message, and make his (potentially) difficult goals seem reachable. He ends on a positive note, just encouraging students to try their best, and emphasizes the need for hard work, which is definitely not unreachable. Over all, he spoke very reasonably, while still maintaining that any student is capable of doing great things. What a hopeful fellow!

Eggs

While taking breaks from reading works by Sartre or Nietzsche, I do the things asked of me by my teachers. Recently I was given a small packet containing short stories to read, and one story appealed to me more than the rest, so I decided to talk about it here. The story more directly deals with the genesis of writing, as opposed to the developed process, which I am more accustomed to seeing discussed. William Kennedy is a noted author and journalist, and in this short story he describes an absolutely godawful short story that he tried to get published in Collier's.
It seems to me that the author had known all along that the short story within the short story wasn't very good, but he had very forgiving critics, such as his mother and banjo teacher. Obviously unsatisfied with their responses of "very good," he decides to ask his father, who validates his opinion that the story sucked. Not expecting this, the author is shocked and decides not to ask his father for feedback anymore.
This is a very simple story, but it carries several important messages. First of all, not every single piece you write, including your first one, has to be very good. It doesn't matter whether or not you write a completely crappy essay, as long as you decide that you like it, you may still show pride in your work. Kennedy keeps his initial rejection slip as proof of this. The quality of the works to come aren't always reflected by early stories.
Secondly, Kennedy shows that writing is a process, and you gradually improve as a writer by taking what you like about your work, and keeping it to use or improve upon later. The use of Herby, the heroic protagonist of Eggs, as a character in a later work exemplifies this. Even though "a retarded orangutan could write a better story than 'Eggs'," a story can "get better," even without becoming good.
Kennedy's story gives hope to budding writers who (by most standards) are terrible at writing. Anyone who feels distressed over the quality of their work, whether it be in writing, academics, or construction, would do well to read and analyze this story.

Why I choose to write

I can't say for certain which of Orwell's four primary motives for writing apply to me the most. Being a cynic, I can't help but identify myself with sheer egoism. I have a dangerous level of self-confidence. While I don't usually think of myself as being above others in reality, I acknowledge that to myself I am essentially a god. I would never hesitate to hold open a door for someone, or help an old lady across the street (as the cliche example goes), but I believe that every person, myself included, should be at the center of their own respective universes. My acknowledgement of the fact that I'm far from the center of others' worlds sets me apart from the average person with a non-philosophical sense of self-importance.

When I write, it is usually because it's necessary work for a class that I'm taking. But when I'm seriously writing (with fervor, as in more than just for school) I am usually attempting to convey some sort of idea or knowledge to someone who I believe isn't knowledgeable on a subject. I only very rarely write argumentatively, most of the time my writing is meant to inform. I believe that when I give people my knowledge through writing, my ideals become more accessible, more feasible, or more true for them. To this end I essentially try to push myself towards the center of others' worlds via proxy. Everyone desires power and recognition, and I'm no exception to this. It's my cynical view of the human race that all motives are inherently selfish, ignoring the negative connotations associated with the word. Writing, being an expression of humanity, must therefore be purely selfish as well.

A fitting beginning

The potential for this blog is infinite, though in all likelihood it will never amount to anything of considerable importance. That being said, there must be some purpose to pouring one's thoughts into the internet. I won't pretend to know what that purpose is. After all, I'm almost sure there is no general truth in the real purpose behind blogging. Some people do it to become famous, others do it because they're famous. As I said previously in the description, I created this space to spew my thoughts into the cesspool of the internet because it was necessary work for a composition class that I'm engaged in.

I like video games. I pour a considerable amount of my energy into playing them and beating them. Many would view my love of gaming as a trivial characteristic of a bored child, which will have no meaning once I grow up. I myself don't understand why or how anyone could enjoy the outdoors so much, or expend the energy to become a great painter when there are more enjoyable activities abound. We're free to form our own preferences and do what we want, without persecution from others if we're lucky. Because anyone can be a blogger and share their thoughts, there must be no single motive for the act of blogging. </post>