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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
7 comments:
Of course, I would like to write something about the process of writing this term for The Pearson Buzz. The problem for me is that I've learned so much by teaching this course (now in its fourth year) I hardly know where to begin!
I liked what we did today--appreciating your writing in a less formal (and less "grammar" oriented) way. Reacting spontaneously to what we like and appreciate seemed to be very powerful. Editing can come later. So, I would like to experiment more with reader reactions and, perhaps, as we learn more about what works (and what doesn't) I'll find my way to an article to share at the "Buzz."
Rant
At the top of the Pyramid you stand, you who control everything on the
palm of your hands. You who step on their pride and spit on their
face, in this world, you (without a doubt) are a disgrace. You who think you can afford a human life—damn you! You who believe that george washington is mightier than God—burn in the Inferno! Like the devil, it is where you belong. You are the disease that has no cure. In this farm you are the pest that the Farmer has thrown. It is harder for you to receive the Kingdom of God than for a camel to enter a pinhole. The day will come, I am sure, the Pyramid will turn up-side-down.
You who wear expensive clothes and still stink like a pig—I shun you! Don’t
you see the children lying half-naked on the streets? You who
live in a mansion, in an earthquake, it will collapse, for you refused to give shelter to your fellow men and free them from their weathered, wooden shacks. You who eat the best meats, and the sweetest fruits that this world has to offer, one day you will choke to death, for you, glutton, should’ve fed the poor’s empty
stomach, and save your dying brothers from hunger.
You who sit in the position should stand up once in a while and see our conditions. You should serve us—not your allies, not your colleagues. You promised to do this, and to help us with that, but sir, your term is almost over, yet in poverty millions of us are still trapped. In your pockets, our sweat and tears pour; you thieves already have some, why do you still ask for more?
Money is just like us in time. We both lie, but we both cannot stand up
against it. Just like you and I, your money would vanish from the face of the
earth. When the judgement day (or your death) comes, I know you’d suffer in
hell. I want to see Satan torture your soul with his torch of flame. You can cry all
you want and scream for help. You can try and promise God everything you
have had , but I am sorry my brother, in heaven, your money is
worth nothing, for just like happiness, you cannot buy forgiveness.
It was a bright and breezy morning. The wind rustled leaves all over the valley. Trees of different kinds aligned along a quiet and peaceful stream. Under a tall and bent-down bamboo tree, with its golden skin glowing in sunlight, Desire and Contentment sat, contemplated and tried to figure out the reasons of their existence.
As the sun continued to rise to the center of a cloudless sky, Desire broke the tranquility of the morning. "What makes you feel contented? he asked. “How come you are already satisfied with your life—with the same mornings, same sun, same sky?"
"Every time you achieve what you desire, I feel contented." Contentment replied.
"But I keep on asking for more the moment I reach my goal. Whenever I succeed, I always aim higher. "
"I am very patient. I can wait."
"You are waiting for nothing; I will never stop wanting."
"I believe, someday, you would realize what you have already gained. Everyone has their limit and you will also reach yours."
Desire kept quiet for a while, then he stood up, and looked at the bamboo tree behind them. “I like bamboo,” he said, while feeling its smooth surface. "Hey, Contentment, have you ever felt Happiness?"
"If happiness is finding one’s purpose, then I haven’t.”
"Am I capable of being happy?—are you?”
"Listen. The moment that you, Desire, achieve contentment then I would be able to taste Happiness.”
"What do you mean? I tend to long for power when I posses wealth. I want more wealth because I have more power, and more power requires more wealth. It is a never-ending cycle, really."
"Have you heard of the ‘Tree of all Trees?’” Contentment asked.
“ No, I haven’t.”
“In the time of our ancestors, there was a sacred tree called ‘The Tree of All Trees.’ A single tree that represented all the trees all over the world. All kinds of fruits bloomed in its braches. It possessed all the traits of other trees. One day the tree asked the Creator for the reason why it was granted with such a blessing. The Creator told the tree that it was because it had a loving heart. A heart that was more than willing to give and share the glories of the Creator. The Sacred Tree bestowed onto others everything it had—shelter for the cold and weary travelers, woods to make fire, medicine for the sick and wounded. It held down its braches so that passing pilgrims and merchants can easily harvest and feed its produce. It nested birds, insects, and animals of different types. Its beauty was more than enough to attract everyone and everything near it. The tree had it all; everyone near it also had it all.”
“Thank you for the wonderful story. I think I now know what you mean. Like the bamboo, I have to continue growing but I also have to keep my head down. I must aim higher but I have to remember that no matter how high I have reached, there is still a part of me that remains attached to the ground.”
“If that is how you want to put it, then be like a bamboo.”
"I have one last question for you my friend. If I, Desire, achieve contentment, then what should I call you?”
“Call me Happiness.”
There is so much to say about the Olympics, I realize, especially after our assignment to write about it. I started out writing something completely different than what I turned in on the Blog, so I may actually use my original idea for the Buzz instead.
It's something along the lines of what sets us Canadians apart from other cultures which, in some ways, was clearly seen through the Olympics.
I would like to write about one of my favourite books, Alchemist, written by Paulo coelho. It is one of popular books, and after twenty years it is still popular even in Iran. He did write complex theosophical ideas in a simple story. Although reading about falsify and theosophical might be difficult to understand, this book is truly smooth and pleasant to read.
For first time when I read it, I felt I read the elementary schools story book, but it has a brilliant ideas to how the dreams come true .it apparently supported this idea at the end of story, but the main idea was about something important.
-story idea for The Pearson Buzz:
I still don’t know what to write, but if I have to choose, I guess I’m writing about cultural differences between Korea and Canada. Especially when I was in high school, a newly immigrated Korean boy asked me to buy him chocolate milk for him on March 14. Of course, I refused it to buy it for him, and I didn’t know why he asked me to buy it for him. But later I learned that March 14 is White day, and that day in Korea is women supposed to give chocolate to men that they love. And of course, I’ve been here for so long and used to do the Valentine’s day, not White day. So, I guess that is cultural differences? I don't know...
I have to deal with different parents, especially Chinese families. Probably, I would write the story about some cases made me laughing. For instance, how the parents curse their children in front of others, or why a mature “kid” still depend seniors without their own ideas. By the way, I was a little bit confusion for this poster. I thought it was supposed to be a suggestion for the Buzz, but other contributors’ comment told me it was a beginning idea for your online publication.
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