Monday, January 18, 2010

Week 2



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Equanimity is a perfect, unshakable balance of mind.
Nyanponika Thera












Welcome back! It's Wednesday of week 2. What will the day bring us each? And isn't it exciting to watch the world unfold, to witness the grand parade of things that pass before the eye of consciousness, noting the details, large and small, as one image, one thought, one feeling quickly passes on to the next! We ride the waves, sometimes on a crest, sometimes in a trough, but always we are in the watery mix, swimming in the primordial soup of life . . . part of the soup, indeed! For me, the meaning of life is found in the striving to become more consciously aware of the life source within and around us. If we can avoid getting caught up in our thoughts, the weight of which can at times be crushing, if we can connect with ourselves and others from that other space out of which all things flow and to which all return, we find a goodness otherwise hidden. Behind the mask of appearances, there is a river bearing us all on our way to a sea, a cosmic sea, as it were; instead of thrashing about in the water as if at any moment we might drown, learning to swim in harmony with that river seems right, feels right and true and beautiful. By writing we become, I believe, more conscious of what we see, for in the theater of our mind we look at things, turn them over, bring them close, take a step back . . . in short we find angles of view that might have escaped us had we not stopped to contemplate the show. Writing about anything, writing well that is, demands we find some perspective to put our subject in, a stance or idea to frame it. The frame or thesis tells a reader what to make of our subject. Say the subject–the raw material–is some event we can't shake from memory, whether from childhood, adolescence, or our adult life. Something happened and the memory of it has been shedding a certain light on the stage (screen?) that is there in our head. This subject (event, phenomenon, fact, instance, example, case–call it what you will) must be interpreted, its shape discovered, framed, its meaning revealed (in so far as we can grasp it) in the writing we do about it. It's not easy, but that is the challenge.

A composition of even a single paragraph must organize itself around an idea, stated or implied, which is the thesis or topic idea. Here are some examples, with frame ideas in italic letters:

Everything is changing. . . . This is a prediction I can make with absolute certainty. As human beings, we are constantly in a state of change. Our bodies change every day. Our attitudes are constantly evolving. Something that we swore by five years ago is now almost impossible for us to imagine ourselves believing. The clothes we wore a few years back now look strange to us in old photographs. The things we take for granted as absolutes, impervious to change, are, in fact, constantly doing just that. Granite boulders become sand in time. Beaches erode and shape new shorelines. Our buildings become outdated and are replaced with modern structures that also will be torn down. Even those things which last thousands of years, such as the Pyramids and the Acropolis, also are changing. This simple insight is very important to grasp if you want to be a no-limit person, and are desirous of raising no-limit children. Everything you feel, think, see, and touch is constantly changing.
–Wayne Dyer, What Do You Really Want For Your Children?

Starting about one million years ago, the fossil record shows an accelerating growth of the human brain. It expanded at first at the rate of of one cubic inch of additional gray matter every hundred thousand years: then the growth rate doubled; it doubled again; and finally it doubled once more. Five hundred thousand years ago the rate of growth hit its peak. At that time, the brain was expanding at the phenomenal rate of ten cubic inches every hundred thousand years. No other organ in the history of life is known to have grown as fast. –Robert Jastrow, Until the Sun Dies


What my mother never told me was how fast time passes in adult life. I remember, when I was little, thinking I would live to be at least as old as my grandmother, who was dynamic even at ninety-two, the age at which she died. Now I see those ninety-two years hurtling by me. And my mother never told me how much fun sex could be, or what a discovery it is. Of course, I'm of an age when mothers really didn't tell you much about anything.
My mother never told me the facts of life. –Joyce Susskind, "Surprises in a Woman's LIfe"

Some paragraphs, particularly ones descriptive or narrative, have no directly stated topic idea, but the idea is implied, the purpose of the paragraph clear. What is the implied topic idea in the following examples?

[Captain Robert Barclay] once went out at 5 in the morning to do a little grouse shooting. He walked at least 30 miles while he potted away, and then after dinner set out on a walk of 60 miles that he accomplished in 11 hours without a halt. Barclay did not sleep after this but went through the following day as if nothing had happened until the afternoon, when he walked 16 miles to a ball. He danced all night, and then in early morning walked home and spent a day partridge shooting. Finally he did get to bed–but only after a period of two nights and nearly three days had elapsed and he had walked 130 miles.
–John Lovesey, "A Myth Is as Good as a Mile"

After our meal we went for a stroll across the plateau. The day was already drawing to a close as we sat down upon a ledge of rock near the lip of the western precipice. From where we sat, as though perched high upon a cloud, we looked out into a gigantic void. Far below, the stream we had crossed that afternoon was a pencil-thin trickle of silver barely visible in the gloaming. Across it, on the other side, the red hill rose one upon another in gently folds, fading into the distance where the purple thumblike mountains of Adua and Yeha stretched against the sky like a twisting serpent. As we sat, the sun sank fast, and the heavens in the western sky began to glow. It was a coppery fire at first, the orange streaked with aquamarine; but rapidly the firmament expanded into an explosion of red and orange that burst across the sky sending tongues of flame through the feathery clouds to the very limits of the heavens. When the flames had reached their zenith, a great quantity of storks came flying from the south. They circled above us once, their slender bodies sleek and black against the orange sky. Then, gathering together, they flew off into the setting sun, leaving us alone in peace to contemplate. One of the monks who sat with us, hushed by the intensity of the moment, muttered a prayer. The sun died beyond the hills; and the fire vanished. –Robert Dick-Read, Sanamu: Adventure in Search of African Art

In the old-time Pueblo world, beauty was manifested in behavior and in one's relationships with other living beings. Beauty was as much a feeling of harmony as it was a visual, aural, or sensual effect. The whole person had to be beautiful, not just the face or the body; faces and bodies could not be separated from hearts and souls. Health was foremost in achieving this sense of well-being and harmony; in the old-time Pueblo world, a person who did not look healthy inspired feelings of worry and anxiety, not feelings of well-being. A healthy person, of course, is in harmony with the world around her; she is at peace with herself too. Thus an unhappy person or spiteful person would not be considered beautiful. --Leslie Marmon Silko, Essays

Notice that well written paragraphs develop adequately the subject; that is, there is sufficient detail and enough examples to make a persuasive case for the idea(s) expressed. Often, too, in descriptive and narrative writing you will notice the pattern of arrangement is either spatial (the eye moves from point A to B and on to C and D in clear, coherent direction) or chronological (time is tracked either from a beginning point on forward, or backward, or some mix of the past, present, and future). Sometimes both the spatial, as in description of a setting or scene, and the chronological, as in an account of actions in time, are at work. Look again at the examples above. How are they arranged?

Writing Assignment: Construct a single-paragraph essay (no more than a page is necessary) on an experience or event that reveals something about the person you are, or have been. Use first-person voice, the familiar "I" that we use in conversations about ourselves. We may get time to finish in class, but if not you will bring it to class week 3. At the bottom of the page, state what is the thesis or topic sentence of the paragraph. Bring this essay to class week 3. Make sure to double space the lines, to use 11 point type in Times font, and to indent the first paragraph (and all paragraph beginnings). Try for 150-200 words. Underline in text the
explicit thesis idea or write at the bottom of the page the implicit thesis idea. Bring this essay to class week 3.

SENTENCE TYPES
Sentence Type 1: The simple sentence has one subject and one predicate, the base of which is always a verb or verb phrase. And in English, the subject usually comes up front, followed by the verb and any other predicate elements. This subject-verb combo is called a clause, an independent clause, because it expresses a grammatically complete, stand-alone thought.
Jesus wept. Nuts! (that is nuts, this is nuts, he is nuts, etc., where that, this, he are the subjects and "is" the verb, with "nuts" describing the situation or person, as an adjective or subject complement).

Style has meaning. Choices resonate. What is the subject in each of the two preceding sentences? Style and choices, of course. And the verbs? Has and resonate, of course.

And in the following?
The house is surrounded by razor wire.
He and I fight too often. We cannot be good for one another. After spring sunset, mist rises from the river, spreading like a flood.
From a bough, floating down river, insect song.

He drove the car carefully, his shaggy hair whipped by the wind, his eyes hidden behind wraparound mirror shades, his mouth set in a grim smile, a .38 Police Special on the seat beside him, the corpse stuffed in the trunk.
They slept.–intransitive (takes no direct object of the verb)The girl raised the flag.– transitive (the flag is the object of the verb)

Inverted order: Lovable he isn't. This I just don't understand. Tall grow the pines on the hills.
Normal order: A fly is in my soup. With expletive (which delays the subject): There is a fly in my soup.


Sentence type 2: The compound sentence has at least two independent subject and verb combinations or clauses, and no dependent clauses. Each independent clause is joined by means of some conjunction or punctuation that serves to join:
Autumn is a sad season, but I love it nonetheless.
Name the baby Huey, or I'll cut you out of my will.
The class was young, eager, and intelligent, and the teacher delighted in their presence.
The sky grew black, and the wind died; an ominous quiet hung over the whole city.
My mind is made up; however, I do want to discuss the decision with you.

Sentence Type 3: The
complex sentence is composed of one independent clause and at least one dependent clause.
Many people believe that God does not exist.
Those who live in glass houses should not cast stones.
As I waited for the bus, the sun beat down all around me.
Because she said nothing, we assumed she wanted nothing.

Do the following comma exercise:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/exercises/3/5/15

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