Macbeth

If you were to be king, well nothing would stop you from being King.

I admit I havn't read the complete play, yet The 32second play and its explications provided by Mean Mr.Teacher resumed Macbeth pretty well.

Shakespear, wthere he was gay or not, whether he plagiarised or not, was brilliant. His speciality: tragedies.

Humans sometimes seem perfect, too perfect. How can you trust someone always better than you, who doesn't understand a mistake? For that matter how can we trust anyone, we have seen history written and know our own deep desires.

Macbeth is about...um... coff coff Macbeth. Said to be King, according to three witches. So maybe if destiny dictates so it shall be; yet ambition is always somewhere hidden. Lady MAcbeth knows what must be done to be King [and Queen] yet as a woman she must not do anathing except enter her husbands mind. Its plot unravels with murder, guilt and of course pe1ople losing their wits and sanity thanks to themselves.

Macduff, Blood which doesn't leave, ghosts, its all here. What makes this play so known [besides the fact that shakespear wrote it] is due to the way we see our own faults reflected there,but worse. We can understand, relate, whether it be shameful or not to.

What we will see in class is interactive, letting us divulge opinions, look into facts and play with fire, I mean imagination. It willlt us get closer to Macbeth instead of reading the book with the least skin possible touching the book at the farthest distance possible.

^^ I agree. Sounds Fun :p

You are being watched, or heard though a mike... Big Brother Is ALWAYS Present...

Ignoues, Goegre Orwell, Concepts never before seen, never before thought of in such a controled enviroment. Creating a rebel cause, fueling fire with fire. Taking it out and finally, bringing it back as a controled candel light. I really liked this novel.

1984

George Orwell

1984 is a very interesting novel. Not only does it play with control but with a manipulation beyond most peoples imagination. Whow ould have thought about erasing history? yet of course our sovereign is so smart. If there is no better past the present has always been so. I cant ask for 30 rations if BB told us last year there was going to be a reduction. Facts i thought I knew are only figments of my imagination.

With the thought police, the rewriting of history, with the difference inbetween proles and control of the marriages and the such not only is there economic control, but ind control. No one thinks outside the box to save their own life. A life if I dare say, that is a dominated life, no right or left tun, only BBs way. He is our leader andknows best after all and surely tomorrow my name will not have existed since 1993, some other child will have been born or none at all for I am sure no such free thought as mine is allowed I have read, I can think, This is no "Truman Show" for my life to be dealt out as a deck of cards. Tomorrow I shall not be, yet if you read this my futile attempt to live will also dissapear in your own doublethink. If this were a matter of blackwhite...There we go again, there can be no such thing, as love should and can be a word, there is no need or a not-good. There existe BAD, and it lies n BB.

Yet hiscontrol is so... complete, the only way to leave it is becoming a hermit, if caught things turn out worse, for besides being tortured and possibly left towander some time on earth, one is BB. I am Doublethink.

BB is complete. He has led us to war for so many years against the same country and never lost. He won by a landslide when voted for. Never has he broken a promise, always delivering, he is our Brother, part of the family, even closer than my own siblings who would lie awake to hear me murmur in my sleep. My children? Hopefully they will also bask and know his power.

BB has been re-elected two times, each time lasting two years.

He has been in power for an endless 5 years...

Digging by Seamus Heaney

Digging- Seamus Heaney

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests;as snug as a gun.

Under my window a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,
Just like his old man.

My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper.
He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, digging down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

In This poem there is a lot of imagery. It plays with the colors of the flowers, the hardness of the shovel and the dirt, how time passes in routine and finally a pen resting in my hands. For that is my way of "digging", this is what I can do.

There is so much going on in this poem and yet nothing at all. So much to speculate about, yet i shall only talk about routine.

More than 20 years have passed, the field changing from a potato one to a garden of flowers. This tells us, besides the fact that life is easier now [from necesity to hobby], that digging has always been done, the fathers father and his grandfather, your typical family herloom found in nature. The father will die and the flowers and memory will live on,the own author may even take up the spade to keep the memory and so on the chain will go.

Or maybe its routine,something human kind has to do. Keep itself occupied to be able to live peacefully. No bored human is a happy. Yet if our routine is not interesting, boring it is still something we are used to. It keeps a pace in our life. Who knows what would happen with idle humans? The father has the movement down to a pinch, he has done this alwyas-or so we are led to believe.

Who are we if we don't know how to do anything?