I, Too by Langston Hughes Essay -- Langston Hughes Poetry

I, Too by Langston Hughes A situation can be interpreted into several different meanings when observed through the world of poetry. A poet can make a person think of several different meanings to a poem when he or she is reading it. Langston Hughes wrote a poem titled "I, Too." In this poem he reveals the Negro heritage and the pride that he has in his heritage and in who he is. Also, Hughes uses very simple terms that allow juvenile interpretations and reading. The poem begins "I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother." From those two lines alone, one can see that he is proud of who he is and introducing himself to the reader. In the line "I, too, sing America" he is explaining that he is an American like everyone else in the country, but he is only of a darker skin color as he follows up in line two with "I am the darker brother." He says that even though he is of another color he is still an American and he should not be treated any differently from any other American. When looking at the poem, Hughes expresses the pride that he has in his heritage and in who h...

Economic Growth in South Africa Essay

1. Strategic Priority 1: Economic Growth and Job Creation. 2. Strategic Priority 2: Massive programme to build economic and social infrastructure. 3. Strategic Priority 3: Rural Development 4. Strategic Priority 4: Education 5. Strategic Priority 5: Health Question Number 2 * Priority 1- Factors beyond the control of policy-makers and stakeholders in South Africa have a big impact on the environment for growth and job creation, and it is difficult to measure achievements by outcomes only. Vulnerability to a weak and volatile global economy remains a significant challenge to job creation, although the recent depreciation of the rand may have helped to protect some jobs in export sectors. * Priority 2- Only 68% of money intended for large infrastructure projects had been spent in the last financial year. This amounts to R178-billion of the allocated R260-billion. Municipalities especially have battled to attract managers with the right skills as well as the requisite technical experts to run the projects. * Priority 3- The department has implemented the CRDP in 21 sites throughout South Africa and aims to roll this out to 160 sites by 2014. Lessons learnt from these CRDP sites indicate that the challenges in rural areas include: * underutilisation and/or unsustainable use of natural resources * poor or lack of access to socio-economic and cultural infrastructure and services, public amenities and facilities and government services * lack of access to clean water or lack of water resources for both household and agricultural development * low literacy, skills levels and migratory labour practices * decay of the social fabric * unexploited opportunities in agriculture, tourism, mining and manufacturing. * Priority 4- Nearly 70% of all South Africans are under the age of 35. Government, through the Department of Higher Education and Training, developed a strategy to increase the ratio of young people that are in education, employment or training by 2014/15. The aim of this strategy is to strengthen the capacity of the education and training system to provide pivotal programmes to a growing number of young post-school learners as well as adults at turning points in their careers. * Priority 5- Several areas of progress have been identified, especially in terms of reducing the effect of childhood illnesses. Improving immunisation coverage ranks high among renowned strategies for improving child health. Immunisation campaigns have been markedly successful in preventable diseases, including polio and measles. Carefully planned and systemic interventions, based on the Negotiated Service Delivery Agreement objectives, have been adopted for child health. Question Number 3 * Priority 1-The main objective is to respond appropriately, promptly and effectively so that growth in decent employment and improvements in income security are reinforced, and investment sustained to build up national economic capability and improve industrial competitiveness. * Priority 2 – Poor infrastructure and poor access to basic services are a result of weak and under-resourced rural local government, as well as a lack of coordination between all the departments involved in service delivery in rural areas. Essential services are also generally less available and of poorer quality in rural areas, rendering these places unattractive for people to live and work. As a result, manypeople in the economically active age group migrate, and the rural economy stagnates. * Priority 3-Between 10 and 15 million South Africans live in areas that are characterised by extreme poverty and underdevelopment. Recognising the diversity of our rural areas, the overall objective is to develop and implement a comprehensive strategy of rural development that will be aimed at improving the quality of life of rural households, enhancing the country’s food security through a broader base of agricultural production, and exploiting the varied economic potential that each region of the country enjoys. * Priority 4-The objective is to focus skills and education system towards the delivery of quality outcomes. The focus will be on, amongst others, learner outcomes, early childhood development (ECD), improving schools management and M&E systems and supporting and developing a high quality teaching profession * Priority 5- Government’s priority is to improve the health status of the entire population and contribute to the vision of a long and healthy life for all South Africans. To accomplish this vision, government has identified four strategic outputs which the health sector must achieve. These are: * increasing life expectancy * decreasing maternal and child mortality   * combating HIV and AIDS and decreasing the burden of tuberculosis (TB) * strengthening health-system effectiveness. Question Number 4 * Priority 1- The government has pursued trade liberalization and privatization as part of its attempts to overcome constraints on growth. In his budget speech for 2011–12, on February 23, 2011, the South African Minister of Finance Pravin Gordhan called the budget an attempt to generate growth and a high quality of life for all South Africans. * Priority 2- In the period ahead, government will continue with the investment programme aimed at expanding and improving social and economic infrastructure to increase access, quality and reliability of public services and to support economic activities while also considering environmental sustainability and pursuing maximum employment impact. * Priority 3- The aim is to ensure sustained investment growth over the medium-term so as to achieve the target of a fixed investment ratio above 25% of GDP by 2014. Such projects will be spatially-referenced, planned for and implemented in an integrated manner. In addition, we will continue with programmes to provide and maintain health, education, library, sporting, recreation and other social infrastructure. * Priority 4- Education has enjoyed the largest share of the national budget throughout the past 15 years. This significant investment in building human capital and capabilities has gradually improved the country’s human resource and skills base. However, progress has not been optimal and the achievements have not taken place on the required scale. * Priority 5- Elements of our strategy include the phasing in of a National Health Insurance system over the next five years and increasing institutional capacities to deliver health-system functions and initiate major structural reforms to improve the management of health services at all levels of healthcare delivery, including particularly hospitals. Question Number 5 * Priority 1- almost 60 000 jobs created by the Department of Trade and Industry’s support and incentive programmes in 2010/11. Also a rural youth-employment programme, has created 7 500 jobs. * Priority 2- The number of passengers accommodated at national airports grew from 16,8 million in 2008/09 to 18,3 million in 2011/12, at an average annual rate of 3%, and is expected to grow to 23 million in 2014/15 at a rate of 7,7%. The number of aircraft landing at airports throughout South Africa increased from 279 515 in 2008/09 to 290 648 in 2011/12, at an average annual rate of 1% and is expected to increase to 340 285 in 2014/15, growing at an average annual rate of 5,7%. * Priority 3- The Comprehensive Rural Development Programme (CRDP) has been developed as a multi sectoral response to the challenge of rural development, addressing basic human needs, as well as the provision of social and economic infrastructure and the development of small and medium enterprises, using an agri-village model. Under the agri-village model, housing, sanitation, health, education and other basic services are provided to an agricultural village. In addition, there should be sustainable agriculture-related income-generating activities in the village. A participatory needs analysis is undertaken involving rural people and different sectors.The programme is being implemented as a pilot programme. By 2011 it had covered 80 of a 2012 target of 160 wards across the country. Furthermore, 1 300 household gardens and cooperatives have been established. * Priority 4- In 2011, the national Grade 12 pass rate was 70,2%, compared to 67,8% the previous year. The national Department of Basic Education set aside R8 billion over a period of three years to replace mud and inappropriate structures and 119 new schools were completed in 2010 as multi-year projects. In the 2011/12 financial year, over 3 322 students were supported with bursaries to study at Higher Education and Further Education and Training (FET) institutions. Through the Human Resource Development Council initiatives, 90 FET college lecturers were trained at the universities of Fort Hare, Walter Sisulu and Nelson Mandela Metropolitan. * Priority 5- Over 2 100 individual infrastructure-related projects exist in health facilities in South Africa – ranging from maintenance and minor repairs to renovation and major construction works. As a result, 138 clinics and 38 community health centres were constructed nationally (an increase of 4% in the total number of PHC facilities in South Africa). .

Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 3-4

3 TRAVIS Travis O'Hearn was driving a fifteen-year-old Chevy Impala he had bought in L.A. with money the demon had taken from a pimp. The demon was standing on the passenger seat with his head out the window, panting into the rushing coastal wind with the slobbering exuberance of an Irish setter. From time to time he pulled his head inside the car, looked at Travis, and sang, â€Å"Your mother sucks cocks in he-ell, Your mother sucks cocks in he-ell,† in a teasing, childlike way. Then he would spin his head around several times for effect. They had spent the night in a cheap motel north of San Junipero, and the demon had tuned the television to a cable channel that played an uncut version of The Exorcist. It was the demon's favorite movie. At least, Travis thought, it was better than the last time, when the demon had seen The Wizard of Oz and had spent an entire day pretending to be a flying monkey, or screaming, â€Å"And that goes for your little dog, too.† â€Å"Sit still, Catch,† Travis said. â€Å"I'm trying to drive.† The demon had been wired since he had eaten the hitchhiker the night before. The guy must have been on cocaine or speed. Why did drugs affect the demon when poisons did not phase him? It was a mystery. The demon tapped Travis on the shoulder with a long reptilian claw. â€Å"I want to ride on the hood,† he said. His voice was like rusty nails rattling in a can. â€Å"Enjoy,† Travis said, waving across the dashboard. The demon climbed out the window and across the front, where he perched like a hood ornament from hell, his forked tongue flying in the wind like a storm-swept pennon, spattering the windshield with saliva. Travis turned on the wipers and was grateful to find that the Chevy was equipped with an interval delay feature. It had taken him a full day in Los Angeles to find a pimp who looked as if he were carrying enough cash to get them a car, and another day for the demon to catch the guy in a place isolated enough to eat him. Travis insisted that the demon eat in private. When he was eating he became visible to other people. He also tripled in size. Travis had a recurring nightmare about being asked to explain the eating habits of his traveling companion. In the dream Travis is walking down the street when a policeman taps him on the shoulder. â€Å"Excuse me, sir,† the policeman says. Travis does a slow-mo Sam Peckenpah turn. â€Å"Yes,† he says. The policeman says, â€Å"I don't mean to bother you – but that large, scaly fellow over there munching on the mayor – do you know him?† The policeman points toward the demon, who is biting off the head of a man in a pinstriped polyester suit. â€Å"Why, yes, I do,† Travis says. â€Å"That's Catch, he's a demon. He has to eat someone every couple of days or he gets cranky. I've known him for seventy years. I'll vouch for his lack of character.† The policeman, who has heard it all before, says, â€Å"There's a city ordinance against eating an elected official without a permit. May I see your permit, please?† â€Å"I'm sorry,† Travis says, â€Å"I don't have a permit, but I'll be glad to get one if you'll tell me where to go.† The cop sighs and begins writing on a ticket pad. â€Å"You can only get a permit from the mayor, and your friend seems to be finishing him off now. We don't like strangers eating our mayor around here. I'm afraid I'll have to cite you.† Travis protests, â€Å"But if I get another ticket, they'll cancel my insurance.† He always wondered about this part of the dream; he'd never carried insurance. The cop ignores him and continues to write out the ticket. Even in a dream, he is only doing his job. Travis thought it terribly unfair that Catch even invaded his dreams. Sleep, at least, should provide some escape from the demon, who had been with him for seventy years, and would be with him forever unless he could find a way to send him back to hell. For a man of ninety, Travis was remarkably well preserved. In fact, he did not appear to be much over twenty, his age when he had called up the demon. Dark with dark eyes and lean, Travis had sharp features that would have seemed evil if not for the constant look of confusion he wore, as if there were one answer that would make everything in life clear to him if he could only remember the question. He had never bargained for the endless days on the road with the demon, trying to figure out how to stop the killing. Sometimes the demon ate daily, sometimes he would go for weeks without killing. Travis had never found a reason, a connection, or a pattern to it. Sometimes he could dissuade the demon from killing, sometimes he could only steer him toward certain victims. When he could, he had the demon eat pimps or pushers, those that humanity could do without. But other times he had to choose vagrants and vagabonds, those that would not be missed. There was a time when he had cried while sending Catch after a hobo or a bag-lady. He'd made friends among the homeless when he was riding the rails with the demon, back before there were so many automobiles. Often a bum who didn't know where his next roof or drink was coming from had shared a boxcar and a bottle with Travis. And Travis had learned that there was no evil in being poor; poverty merely opened one up to evil. But over the years he had learned to push aside the remorse, and time and again Catch dined on bums. He wondered what went through the minds of Catch's victims just before they died. He had seen them wave their hands before their eyes as if the monster looming before them was an illusion, a trick of the light. He wondered what would happen now, if oncoming drivers could see Catch perched on the front of the Chevy waving like a parade queen from the Black Lagoon. They would panic, swerve off the narrow road and over the ocean-side bank. Windshields would shatter, and gasoline would explode, and people would die. Death and the demon were never separated for long. Coming soon to a town near you, Travis thought. But perhaps this is the last one. As a seagull cry dopplered off to Travis's left, he turned to look out the window over the ocean. The morning sun was reflecting off the face of the waves, illuminating a sparkling halo of spray. For a moment he forgot about Catch and drank in the beauty of the scene, but when he turned to look at the road again, there was the demon, standing on the bumper, reminding him of his responsibility. Travis pushed the accelerator to the floor and the Impala's engine hesitated, then roared as the automatic transmission dropped into passing gear. When the speedometer hit sixty he locked up the brakes. Catch hit the roadway face first and skidded headlong, throwing up sparks where his scales scraped the asphalt. He bounced off a signpost and into a ditch, where he lay for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. The Impala fishtailed and came to a stop sideways in the road. Travis slammed the Chevy into reverse, righted the car, then threw it into drive and screeched toward the demon, keeping the wheels out of the ditch until the moment of impact. The Impala's headlights shattered against Catch's chest. The corner of the bumper caught him in the waist and drove him deep into the mud of the ditch. The engine sputtered to a stop and the damaged radiator hissed a rusty cloud of steam into Catch's face. The driver's side door was jammed against the ditch, so Travis crawled out the window and ran around the car to see what damage he had done. Catch was lying in the ditch with the bumper against his chest. â€Å"Nice driving, A.J.,† Catch said. â€Å"You going to try for Indy next year?† Travis was disappointed. He hadn't really expected to hurt Catch, he knew from experience that the demon was virtually indestructible, but he had hoped at least to piss him off. â€Å"Just trying to keep you on your toes,† he said. â€Å"A little test to see how you hold up under stress.† Catch lifted the car, crawled out, and stood next to Travis in the ditch. â€Å"What's the verdict? Did I pass?† â€Å"Are you dead?† â€Å"Nope, I feel great.† â€Å"Then you have failed miserably. I'm sorry but I'll have to run you over again.† â€Å"Not with this car,† the demon said, shaking his head. Travis surveyed the steam rising from the radiator and wondered whether he might not have been a little hasty in giving way to his anger. â€Å"Can you get it out of the ditch?† â€Å"Piece of cake.† The demon hoisted the front of the car and began to walk it up onto the berm. â€Å"But you're not going to get far without a new radiator.† â€Å"Oh, you're all of a sudden an expert mechanic. Mr. help-me-I-can't-change-the-channel-while-the-magic-fingers-is-on all of a sudden has a degree in automotive diagnostics?† â€Å"Well, what do you think?† â€Å"I think there's a town just ahead where we can get it fixed. Didn't you read that sign you bounced off of?† It was a dig. Travis knew the demon couldn't read; in fact, he often watched subtitled movies with the sound off just to irritate Catch. â€Å"What's it say?† â€Å"It says, ‘Pine Cove, five miles.' That's where we're going. I think we can limp the car five miles with a bad radiator. If not, you can push.† â€Å"You run over me and wreck the car and I get to push?† â€Å"Correct,† Travis said, crawling back through the car window. â€Å"At your command, master,† Catch said sarcastically. Travis tried the ignition. The car whined and died. â€Å"It won't start. Get behind and push.† â€Å"Okay,† Catch said. He went around to the back of the car, put his shoulder to the bumper, and began pushing it the rest of the way out of the ditch. â€Å"But pushing cars is very hungry work.† 4 ROBERT Robert Masterson had drunk a gallon of red wine, most of a five-liter Coors minikeg, and a half-pint of tequila, and still the dream came. A desert. A big, bright, sandy bastard. The Sahara. He is naked, tied to a chair with barbed wire. Before him is a great canopied bed covered in black satin. Under the cool shade of the canopy his wife, Jennifer, is making love to a stranger – a young, muscular, dark-haired man. Tears run down Robert's cheeks and crystallize into salt. He cannot close his eyes or turn away. He tries to scream, but every time he opens his mouth a squat, lizardlike monster, the size of a chimpanzee, shoves a saltine cracker into his mouth. The heat and the pain in his chest are agonizing. The lovers are oblivious to his pain. The little reptile man tightens the barbed wire around his chest by twisting a stick. Every time he sobs, the wire cuts deeper. The lovers turn to him in slow motion, maintaining their embrace. They wave to him, a big home-movie wave, postcard smiles. Greetings from the heart of anguish. Awake, the dream-pain in his chest replaced by a real pain in his head. Light is the enemy. It's out there waiting for you to open your eyes. No. No way. Thirst – brave the light to slake the thirst – it must be done. He opened his eyes to a dim, forgiving light. Must be cloudy out. He looked around. Pillows, full ashtrays, empty wine bottles, a chair, a calendar from the wrong year with a picture of a surfer riding a huge swell, pizza boxes. This wasn't home. He didn't live like this. Humans don't live like this. He was on someone's couch. Where? He sat up and waited in vertigo until his brain snapped back into his head, which it did with a vengeful impact. Ah, yes, he knew where he was. This was Hangover – Hangover, California. Pine Cove, where he was thrown out of the house by his wife. Heartbreak, California. Jenny, call Jenny. Tell her that humans don't live this way. No one lives this way. Except The Breeze. He was in The Breeze's trailer. He looked around for water. There was the kitchen, fourteen miles away, over there at the end of the couch. Water was in the kitchen. He crawled naked off the couch, across the floor of the kitchen to the sink, and pulled himself up. The faucet was gone, or at least buried under a stack of dirty dishes. He reached into an opening, cautiously searching for the faucet like a diver reaching into an underwater crevice for a moray eel. Plates skidded down the pile and crashed on the floor. He looked at the china shards scattered around his knees and spotted the mirage of a Coors minikeg. He managed a controlled fall toward the mirage and his hand struck the nozzle. It was real. Salvation: hair of the dog in a handy, five-liter disposable package. He started to drink from the nozzle and instantly filled his mouth, throat, sinuses, aural cavity, and chest hair with foam. â€Å"Use a glass,† Jenny would say. â€Å"What are you, an animal?† He must call Jenny and apologize as soon as the thirst was gone. First, a glass. Dirty dishes were strewn across every horizontal surface in the kitchen: the counter, stove, table, breakfast bar, and the top of the refrigerator. The oven was filled with dirty dishes. Nobody lives like this. He spotted a glass among the miasma. The Holy Grail. He grabbed it and filled it with beer. Mold floated on the settling foam. He threw the glass into the oven and slammed the door before an avalanche could gain momentum. A clean glass, perhaps. He checked the cupboard where the dishes had once been kept. A single cereal bowl stared out at him. From the bottom of the bowl Fred Flintstone congratulated him, â€Å"Good kid! You're a clean-plater!† Robert filled the bowl and sat cross-legged on the floor amid the broken dishes while he drank. Fred Flintstone congratulated him three times before his thirst abated. Good old Fred. The man's a saint. Saint Fred of Bedrock. â€Å"Fred, how could she do this to me? Nobody can live like this.† â€Å"Good kid! You're a clean-plater!† Fred said. â€Å"Call Jenny,† Robert said, reminding himself. He stood and staggered through the offal toward the phone. Nausea swept over him and he bounced back through the trailer's narrow hallway and fell into the bathroom, where he retched into the toilet until he passed out. The Breeze called it â€Å"talking to Ralph on the Big White Phone.† This one was a toll call. Five minutes later he came to and found the phone. It seemed a superhuman effort to hit the right buttons. Why did they have to keep moving? At last he connected and someone answered on the first ring. â€Å"Jenny, honey, I'm sorry. Can I-â€Å" â€Å"Thank you for calling Pizza on Wheels. We will open at eleven A.M. and deliveries begin at four P.M. Why cook when-â€Å" Robert hung up. He'd dialed the number written on the phone's emergency numbers sticker instead of his home. Again he chased down the buttons and pegged them one by one. It was like shooting skeet, you had to lead them a little. â€Å"Hello.† Jenny sounded sleepy. â€Å"Honey, I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. Can I come home?† â€Å"Robert? What time is it?† He thought for a moment then guessed, â€Å"Noon?† â€Å"It's five in the morning, Robert. I've been asleep about an hour, Robert. There were dogs barking in the neighborhood all night long, Robert. I'm not ready for this. Good-bye, Robert.† â€Å"But Jenny, how could you do it? You don't even like the desert. And you know how I hate saltines.† â€Å"You're drunk, Robert.† â€Å"Who is this guy, Jenny? What does he have that I don't have?† â€Å"There is no other guy. I told you yesterday, I just can't live with you anymore. I don't think I love you anymore.† â€Å"Who do you love? Who is he?† â€Å"Myself, Robert. I'm doing it for myself. Now I'm hanging up for myself. Say good-bye so I don't feel like I'm hanging up on you.† â€Å"But, Jenny-â€Å" â€Å"It's over. Get on with your life, Robert. I'm hanging up now. Good-bye.† â€Å"But-† She hung up. â€Å"Nobody lives like this,† Robert said to the dial tone. Get on with your life. Okay, that's a plan. He would clean up this place and clean up his life. Never drink again. Things were going to change. Soon she would remember what a great guy he was. But first he had to go to the bathroom to answer an emergency call from Ralph. The smoke alarm was screaming like a tortured lamb. Robert, now back on the couch, pulled a cushion over his head and wondered why the Breeze didn't have a sleeper button on his smoke alarm. Then the pounding started. It was a door buzzer, not the smoke alarm. â€Å"Breeze, answer the door!† Robert shouted into the cushion. The pounding continued. He crawled off the couch and waded through the litter to the door. â€Å"Hold on a minute, man. I'm coming.† He threw the door open and caught the man outside with his fist poised for another pounding. He was a sharp-faced Hispanic in a raw silk suit. His hair was slicked back and tied in a ponytail with a black silk ribbon. Robert could see a flagship model BMW parked in the driveway. â€Å"Shit. Jehovah's Witnesses must make a lot of money,† Robert said. The Hispanic was not amused. â€Å"I need to talk to The Breeze.† At that point Robert realized that he was naked and picked an empty, gallon wine bottle from the floor to cover his privates. â€Å"Come in,† Robert said, backing away from the door. â€Å"I'll see if he's awake.† The Hispanic stepped in. Robert stumbled down the narrow hall to The Breeze's room. He knocked on the door. â€Å"Breeze, there's some big money here to see you.† No answer. He opened the door and went in and searched through the piles of blankets, sheets, pillows, beer cans, and wine bottles, but found no Breeze. On the way back to the living room Robert grabbed a mildewed towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around his hips. The Hispanic was standing in the middle of a small clearing, peering around the trailer with concentrated disgust. It looked to Robert as if he were trying to levitate to avoid having his Italian shoes contact the filth on the floor. â€Å"He's not here,† Robert said. â€Å"How do you live like this?† the Hispanic said. He had no discernible accent. â€Å"This is subhuman, man.† â€Å"Did my mother send you?† The Hispanic ignored the question. â€Å"Where is The Breeze? We had a meeting this morning.† He put an extra emphasis on the word meeting. Robert got the message. The Breeze had been hinting that he had some big deal going down. The guy must be the buyer. Silk suits and BMWs were not the usual accouterments of The Breeze's clientele. â€Å"He left last night. I don't know where he went. You could check down at the Slug.† â€Å"The Slug?† â€Å"Head of the Slug Saloon, on Cypress. He hangs out there sometimes.† The Hispanic tiptoed through the garbage to the door, then paused on the step. â€Å"Tell him I'm looking for him. He should call me. Tell him I do not do business this way.† Robert didn't like the commanding tone in the Hispanic's voice. He affected the obsequious tone of an English butler, â€Å"And whom shall I say has called, sir?† â€Å"Don't fuck with me, cabron. This is business.† Robert took a deep breath, then sighed. â€Å"Look, Pancho. I'm hung over, my wife just threw me out, and my life is not worth shit. So if you want me to take messages, you can damn well tell me who the fuck you are. Or should I tell The Breeze to look for a Mexican with a Gucci loafer shoved up his ass? Comprende, Pachuco?† The Hispanic turned on the step and started to reach into his suit coat. Robert felt adrenaline shoot through his body, and he tightened his grip on the towel. Oh, yeah, he thought, pull a gun and I'll snap your eyes out with this towel. He suddenly felt extremely helpless. The Hispanic kept his hand in his coat. â€Å"Who are you?† â€Å"I'm The Breeze's decorator. We're redoing the whole place in an abstract expressionist motif.† Robert wondered if he wasn't really trying to get shot. â€Å"Well, smart ass, when The Breeze shows up, you tell him to call Rivera. And you tell him that when the business is done, his decorator is mine. You understand?† Robert nodded weakly. â€Å"Adios, dogmeat.† Rivera turned and walked toward the BMW. Robert closed the door and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. The Breeze was going to be pissed when he heard about this. Robert's fear was replaced by self-loathing. Maybe Jenny was right. Maybe he had no idea how to maintain a relationship with anybody. He was worthless and weak – and dehydrated. He looked around for something to drink and vaguely remembered having done this before. Dj vu? â€Å"Nobody lives like this.† It was going to change, goddammit. As soon as he found his clothes, he was going to change it. RIVERA Detective Sergeant Alphonso Rivera of the San Junipero County Sheriff's Department sat in the rented BMW and cursed. â€Å"Fuck, fuck, and double fuck.† Then he remembered the transmitter taped to his chest. â€Å"Okay, cowboys, he's not here. I should have known. The van's been gone for a week. Call it off.† In the distance he could hear cars starting. Two beige Plymouths drove by a few seconds later, the drivers conspicuously not looking at the BMW as they passed. What could have gone wrong? Three months setting it all up. He'd gone out on a limb with the captain to convince him that Charles L. Belew, a.k.a. The Breeze, was their ticket into the Big Sur growers' business. â€Å"He's gone down twice for cocaine. If we pop him for dealing, he'll give us everything but his favorite recipe to stay out of Soledad.† â€Å"He's small time,† the captain had said. â€Å"Yeah, but he knows everybody, and he's hungry. Best of all, he knows he's small time, so he thinks we wouldn't bother with him.† Finally the captain had relented and it had been set up. Rivera could hear him now. â€Å"Rivera, if you got made by a drugged-out loser like Belew, maybe we should put you back in uniform, where your high visibility will be an asset. Maybe we can put you in P.R. or recruitment.† Rivera's ass was hanging out worse than that drunken jerk in the trailer. Who was he, anyway? As far as anyone knew, The Breeze lived alone. But this guy seemed to know something. Why else would he give Rivera such a hard time? Maybe he could pull this off with the drunk. Desperate thinking. A long shot. Rivera memorized the license number of the old Ford truck parked outside The Breeze's trailer. He would run it through the computer when he got back to the station. Maybe he could convince the captain that he still had something. Maybe he did. And then again, maybe he could just climb a stream of angel piss to heaven. Rivera sat in the file room of the sheriff's office drinking coffee and watching a videotape. After running the license number through the computer, Rivera found that the pickup belonged to a Robert Masterson, age twenty-nine. Born in Ohio, married to Jennifer Masterson, also twenty-nine. His only prior was a drunk-driving conviction two years ago. The video was a record of Masterson's breathalyzer test. Several years ago the department had begun taping all breathalyzer tests to avoid legal-defense strategies based on procedural mistakes made by arresting officers during testing. On the television screen a very drunk Robert W. Masterson (6 ft., 180 lbs., eyes green, hair brown) was spouting nonsense to two uniformed deputies. â€Å"We work for a common purpose. You serve the state with your minds and bodies. I serve the state by opposing it. Drinking is an act of civil disobedience. I drink to end world hunger. I drink to protest the United States' involvement in Central America. I drink to protest nuclear power. I drink†¦Ã¢â‚¬  A sense of doom descended on Rivera as he watched. Unless The Breeze reappeared, his career was in the hands of this tightly wound, loosely wrapped, drunken idiot. He wondered what life might be like as a bank security guard. On the screen the two officers looked away from their prisoner to the door of the testing room. The camera was mounted in the corner and fitted with a wide-angle lens to cover anything that happened without having to be adjusted. A little Arab man in a red stocking cap had come through the door, and the deputies were telling him that he had the wrong room and to please leave. â€Å"Could I trouble you for a small quantity of salt?† the little man asked. Then he blinked off the screen as if the tape had been stopped and he had been edited out. Rivera rewound the tape and ran it again. The second time, Masterson performed the test without interruption. The door did not open and there was no little man. Rivera ran it back again: no little man. He must have dozed off while the tape was running. His subconscious had continued the tape while he slept, inserting the little man's entrance. That was the only viable explanation. â€Å"I don't need this shit,† he said. Then he ejected the tape and drained his coffee, his tenth cup of the day.

Duffys poetry Essay

A critic has writ7ten that â€Å"Duffy’s poetry is primarily concerned with human failings†. To what extent do you feel this is true of ‘The Worlds Wife’? Refer to two or three poems in detail or range more widely through the whole collection. Carol Ann Duffy’s collection of ‘The Worlds Wife’ revolves a lot around the subject of human failings. Duffy’s use of everyday language allows her poems to be interpreted by everyone. In the collection of ‘The Worlds Wife’ she tackles serious issues such as gender, contemporary culture, alienation and social inequality. These themes allow her to writing to appeal to a contemporary audience and delivers key messages. The theme of arrogance is seen in several poems, in Mrs Icarus we see that she finds his arrogance unappealing and that she feels as if men feel they can defy the acts of God â€Å"he’s a total, utter absolute, Grade A pillock. † This is similar to Faust, who sold his sole to the devil in return for twenty-four years of unlimited pleasure, knowledge and power; he boasts â€Å"I spent the night being pleasured by a virtual Helen of Troy. † Dr Faustus’ lack of self control, ignorance and plain arrogance could be assumed to be a failing, although he lived a happy life his inhibitions to be successful he needed the aid of the devil therefore he was doomed from the beginning. Here we can see the obvious links between the two poems and how the two characters egotistical ways led to their failure. One interesting failure Duffy uses is seen in the poem ‘The Devils Wife’, Duffy interestingly splits this poem into six sections which all relate back to different themes, we see the value of a relationships, motherhood and repentance. The poem is written based on the background history of the Moors Murders, with the protagonist Myra Hindley and how she became besotted with sociopath Ian Brady. In the first part of the poem we as the readers see how Duffy, displays Hindley as being the ordinary office worker with a crush â€Å"I scowled and poured and sneered. I gave as good as good as I got till he asked me out† we can see that she was the one who initiated the whole relationship. The story changes â€Å"He entered me. † From this moment she was now his, this could be another failing that men have more control than women and she was just his puppet â€Å"he made me bury a doll. † Duffy uses an interesting metaphor here, she say â€Å"doll† instead of a child as a doll is thought to be a child’s toy and just a possession which they eventually no longer require. It ends with â€Å"I felt like this: Tongue of stone. Two black slates for eyes. Thumped wound of a mouth. Nobody’s Mam. † We can see that she has become so obsessed with him, her life has changed forever. Also we are able to identify another theme of motherhood, people were unable to understand how Hindley was able to commit the most abhorrent, sadistic and unforgivable crimes against children as women are associated with protective mother love. We then see that in the third part of the poem, Duffy uses a sonnet in an untraditional form; instead of it being the ordinary love poem, the lack of punctuation shows Hindley’s state of mind and she’s finally repenting and blaming Brady for all of the murders. The final part of the poem gives different forms of execution and she finally admits she was in fact the Devil’ wife. Although this poem is lengthy, the key themes all relate to the main subject of â€Å"human failings†, love is a key importance in this poem â€Å"He held my heart in his fist and squeezed it dry. † Here we can see that men are dominant in relationships and Brady was in control of Hindley, which could be deemed a failing. Also motherhood is a joyous gift in life and could be one of the most important things in life but Hindley displays apathy towards children and lets Brady control her life â€Å"I flew in my chains†¦where we’d buried the doll. † Finally we see another theme of repentance â€Å"Get me a Bible honestly promise you swear† but by the time she finally realised her mistakes it was too late. Another them used is Power, this could also be assumed as a failing. In Mrs Midas, in which she finds that everything her husband touches turns to gold; soon after she realises the marriage will not work because of her husband’s selfishness. â€Å"I thought of the Field of the Cloth of Gold and of Miss Macready. † Here we can see that her husband valued wealth above everything else, but it wasn’t until he accidently touched his daughter he realised the mistake of his greed that was his failing. In The Kray Sisters, Duffy subverts the original story by using female portrayals instead of men; the poem uses cockney slang which allows us as readers to interact more with the poem and makes it more believable. The Kray Twins ran a protective racket, and were well known ‘West End gangsters’. The poem actually displays the success of the twins and how they were feared among the streets. However interestingly this so-called respect may have given the Kray’s the authority they wanted â€Å"We wanted respect for the way we entered a bar, or handled a car, or shrivelled a hard-on with simply a menacing look† However ultimately this respect led to the demise of the twins and they may have ruled the west end during their time but landed themselves a life-sentence in prison. Was it really worth it? Respect and honour are meant to be earned with dignity not by threatening and violating people; therefore I think that although this poem contains positive connotations it ultimately displays a failing. Duffy’s collection of the Worlds Wife is an interesting selection of poems and it is clear that one of the major themes associated with the collection is Human Failings, although these are not seen clearly and not every persona fails the actions they carry out could be assumed as a failing. The ironical and satirical way Duffy writes displays the dark humour of The Worlds Wife we can see that Duffy tries to impersonate the wives of famous characters both factious and fictions.

The Soldier – Rupert Broke

â€Å"The Soldier† is a sonnet-type poem composed by a First World War veteran and also a war poet named Rupert Brooke. This sonnet finds a soldier speculating about his possible death as we goes away to war, which he feels should not be mourned, but understood as part of a selfless tribute to his much-loved England. This poem was written as the First World War broke out in 1914, as part of a series of many sonnets written by Rupert Brooke. Patriotism is a true form of love.It is a form of love which is pure, yet which has the ability to rage fire for the sake of itself. It is the form of love which is unconditional, immense, true and real for one's land, one's true mother. Rupert Brooke has presented his patriotism in a spectacular way in this poem. The poem encompasses the memories of a fallen soldier who declares his patriotism to his homeland by stating that his sacrifice shall be the eternal ownership of England. It also deals with the death and accomplishments of a soldi er.In the opening lines Rupert Brooke has presented his patriotism in such a forceful expression that he considers the sand in which he would be buried, be it a foreign land, will become an English sand, the richness of which will further be increased by the fertility of an English body of a passionately patriotic soul. The idea of an unnamed â€Å"corner of a foreign field† where the soldier will be buried speaks of the unsung and anonymous nature of death in war. Yet the notion that this small space will â€Å"forever† be part of England elevates the sacrifice the soldier makes— as if he has in a small way conquered this land.The soft alliteration here lends these opening lines a subdued tone. He goes on to say that England was his birth place and it shaped what kind of person he became. It influenced his thoughts and beliefs. England taught him about love, loyalty, and honor. His soul will be immortal, because he fought for England. The association and inclin ation of his mind and body towards his country is vigorously explained when he claims to create an English land, of an English body, bore by England, brought up by England and educated and fed by England, in the land he will be buried.The poet also emphasizes on England’s abundance and pastoral beauty as a kind gift. He refers to himself as a child who grew up under the English sunshine; bathe in the English rivers, breathing the fresh air of the English countryside and whose destiny is shaped by the nation itself. His death is justified, because he died for England. His evil deeds don't matter anymore, because he did what was right; he fought for his country. Whatever evil things he had done will be forgiven as he died while defending his motherland.His preceding desire is for all present and future generations to think that his heart is reconciled to the good of his country with no evil intentions hidden, but a lively mind in the afterlife which will project the fondest tho ughts given by England. His death allows him to only remember the good things about England. It also allows for someone else to come and take his place. He is passing on all the dreams and thoughts that England taught him onto the next generation of soldier; so that he can fight with as much heart and honor as he did. The soldier lists all the wonderful experiences that the soldier has gained from England.These pleasant thoughts and memories will be given back to God as the soldier becomes one with Him. The sights and sounds that are experienced by the poet in his younger days and the boyhood dreams that are as clear as the day, the laughter of youth from the circle of friends and that gentleness of heart, whose soul will rest in peace under an English heaven. The poem ends with a startling proposition— the soldier finds rest and peace at last in heaven, but heaven has been transformed by the thoughts and memories that the soldier has given to God.This heaven is now â€Å"an English heaven†: the connection with England will remain forever unbroken. The sonnet’s turn from an idyllic or idealized vision of England to the idea of a transcendent and literally heavenly England is complete. These final lines are showing the happiness that England has given him. And because he fought for England he will forever be at peace in an English heaven with only good thoughts and laughter in his heart. The plot of this poem reinforces its meaning because it deals with death and love.These are two powerful things that evoke feeling in people. It helps to create an image in the poem of a man who is very brave and would do anything for his country. The meaning in the poem is straightforward. The author dedicates the poem to death and love. QESTION Q. Describe the way Rupert Brooke feels about England. What does he mean by â€Å"a richer dust†? Answer: â€Å"The Soldier† is a sonnet-type poem composed by a First World War veteran and also a war poet named Rupert Brooke.This sonnet finds a soldier speculating about his possible death as we goes away to war, which he feels should not be mourned, but understood as part of a selfless tribute to his much-loved England. This poem was written as the First World War broke out in 1914, as part of a series of many sonnets written by Rupert Brooke. Patriotism is a true form of love. It is a form of love which is pure, yet which has the ability to rage fire for the sake of itself. It is the form of love which is unconditional, immense, true and real for one's land, one's true mother.Rupert Brooke has presented his patriotism in a spectacular way in this poem. The poem encompasses the memories of a fallen soldier who declares his patriotism to his homeland by stating that his sacrifice shall be the eternal ownership of England. Rupert Brooke has presented his patriotism in such a forceful expression that he considers the sand in which he would be buried, be it a foreign land, will beco me an English sand, the richness of which will further be increased by the fertility of an English body of a passionately patriotic soul.The idea of an unnamed â€Å"corner of a foreign field† where the soldier will be buried speaks of the unsung and anonymous nature of death in war. Yet the notion that this small space will â€Å"forever† be part of England elevates the sacrifice the soldier makes— as if he has in a small way conquered this land. He goes on to say that England was his birth place and it shaped what kind of person he became. It influenced his thoughts and beliefs. England taught him about love, loyalty, and honor. His soul will be immortal, because he fought for England.The association and inclination of his mind and body towards his country is vigorously explained when he claims to create an English land, of an English body, bore by England, brought up by England and educated and fed by England, in the land he will be buried. The poet also emph asizes on England’s abundance and pastoral beauty as a kind gift. He refers to himself as a child who grew up under the English sunshine; bathe in the English rivers, breathing the fresh air of the English countryside and whose destiny is shaped by the nation itself. His death is justified, because he died for England.His evil deeds don't matter anymore, because he did what was right; he fought for his country. Whatever evil things he had done will be forgiven as he died while defending his motherland. His preceding desire is for all present and future generations to think that his heart is reconciled to the good of his country with no evil intentions hidden, but a lively mind in the afterlife which will project the fondest thoughts given by England. He is passing on all the dreams and thoughts that England taught him onto the next generation of soldier; so that he can fight with as much heart and honor as he did.The sights and sounds that are experienced by the poet in his y ounger days and the boyhood dreams that are as clear as the day, the laughter of youth from the circle of friends and that gentleness of heart, whose soul will rest in peace under an English heaven. The soldier finds rest and peace at last in heaven, but heaven has been transformed by the thoughts and memories that the soldier has given to God. This heaven is now â€Å"an English heaven†: the connection with England will remain forever unbroken. The sonnet’s turn from an idyllic or idealized vision of England to the idea of a transcendent and literally heavenly England is complete.These final lines are showing the happiness that England has given him. As he fought for England he will forever be at peace in an English heaven with only good thoughts and laughter in his heart. The poet indicates himself by the word â€Å"a richer dust†. He says that the richness of the foreign land where he will die will be enriched by the fertility of an English body of a passiona tely patriotic soul. This poem deals with the death and accomplishments of a soldier. The author dedicates the poem to death and love.

What is the message of the film House of Sand by Essay

What is the message of the film House of Sand by - Essay Example Upon arriving at the place, Aurea, who is pregnant, urges Vasco to leave the place since they would not have a good environment of raising their child, but Vasco opposes her strongly. This highlights the theme of male domination whereby the producer is showing the viewer that women had no say in family matters in that setting. Unfortunately, Vasco succumbs to an accident which leaves Aurea as the head of the family. Aurea decides to leave the area but her attempts to abandon this isolated and uncivilized area are rebuffed since there are no transport channels. The only link to the outside world is a salesman who is called Chico, but he also dies leaving Aurea with no options. Asa result of this, she is forced to stay in the desert and accept her fate. She is forced to raise her child, Maria in these conditions. Time elapses into years and decades. A lot happens in this time; Aurea’s mother is killed by a sandstorm and she begins interacting with the surrounding community. The message here is that despite hardships in life, resilience, industry and hard work is necessary for ensuring one’s survival. Aurea epitomizes hard work and character which enables her to raise Maria in the hard conditions. Besides, she never gives up on her daughter going to the normal world, which illustrates her virtu es of hope and belief. She has been used to highlight problems and challenges that women face in family settings, and how they should go about in fighting these challenges. Aurea is, therefore, a model of women empowerment in society. Therefore, the tale is about survival in the difficult desert conditions, and how this survival has enabled various characters develop. Therefore, the message the author is giving here is that despite hardships that people may face in life, it is possible to transform this situation into an

Experience of having a child at a young age (age-18) Essay

Experience of having a child at a young age (age-18) - Essay Example Even though my friends and I had numerous differences, it was easy to get along and share so much of our life experiences. From time to time, I would think and talk about my future especially where I expected to be in ten years or so. Just like any other typical woman, I would talk about getting into a successful career and starting a family that would remain united forever. Soon after graduating high school, my friendship and relationship with my friends kept growing over time. Some time passed and the story remained the same. Nothing much happened in my life until I discovered I was expecting a child at the age of eighteen. I was happy but worried too that I would have a child at a young age. On one hand, pregnancy was not a welcome thing in my life at that age. I felt it had begun to complicate my life from there on. I had never thought of having a child at the age of eighteen. My complete focus was on going to college and pursuing a career that would change my life for the better. On the other hand, pregnancy was a situation I had to face without fear or guilt. In many instances, I was concerned not only about my education, but also about the fact that getting a child at a young age would affect the rest of my life. To get through it, I had to convince myself that all would be well and everything would work out in my favor. However, it was obvious that college education was on hold at that point. Days, weeks, and months passed, and eventually I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom I named Lucy. Before my nineteenth birthday, I was a mother. At my age, I had so much to learn about caring for the baby. I attended parenting classes and had frequent visits to the doctor to ensure that the baby’s progress was good. One major thing I always recognize is the support I received from my family and friends. My family stood by me and provided me with financial support since I still depended on my parents. Surprisingly,