Didion/Rodriguez Essays

I have to first acknowledge that it's 6 AM and Harry Potter (Prisoner of Azkaban) is on HBO right now. It's my favorite of the Harry Potter movies and I'm absolutely giddy.

Anyways, I really enjoyed all three of the essays. I found "Goodbye to All That" the least relatable of the three, but still found some passages that stood out to me. On page 684, she says, "I could make promises to myself and to other people and there would be all the time in the world to keep them. I could stay up all night and make mistakes, and none of it would count." This is my favorite passage of the essay, along with the one on 685 of similar effect but where she has realized that it all really does count. I find it to be incredibly relatable. I have gone through the "I'm young so this doesn't count" phase too many times, with too many things.

Moving on, "In Bed" was a wonderful essay. It was a perfect balance of factually interesting and insightfully interesting. Apparently insightfully isn't a word because the red squiggly line is under it but I'm leaving it. Take that society. Anyways, I am well acquainted with the migraine, having had them since I was very young, but this essay was the first time I had ever heard of a "migraine personality" which is FASCINATING to me. Also, the section about how LSD was first synthesized while looking for the cure to migraine, on page 690, was really interesting. I'm not sure if it's entirely true, as I have learned elsewhere that LSD was synthesized while trying to create a respiratory stimulant, but oh well, what's "truth" anyways? The migraine personality is, as she says, "ambitious, inward, intolerant of error, rather rigidly organized, perfectionist." I absolutely fit into the migraine personality, however I have never been able to embrace the pain as she has, which I find to be both admirable and a bit annoying. Good for you that you turn a bad thing into a good thing, but fuck you for making me feel weak because I can't look at a migraine like yoga.

"Late Victorians" was a very interesting read. I'm not sure if I really grasped the entire message of it because there was a lot going on in it. The first lines really brought me in though, "we are restless hearts, for earth is not our true home. Human unhappiness is evidence of our immortality. Intuition tells us we are meant for some other city." Beautiful. The idea of the Victorian house paralleled with the homosexual lifestyle was a very interesting concept. I definitely learned a lot about the advancement of the Gay community from this essay, as well as about the advancement/culture of San Fransisco. I'm not entirely sure what the overall message of the essay was, but what I took from it was that Rodriguez tried to suppress who he was in the interest of trying to be a good Catholic, but he missed the fact that he was surrounded by so many accepting people, and successful Gays that were happy and not ashamed to embrace who they were like he was, like he made himself.

Snape embraced his homosexuality, so why couldn't Rodriguez? hahahaha just kidding, Snape!!!

Reality Check?

Turn on the TV and flip through the channels, what do you see? Television today is dominated by the “reality TV” fad. There seems to be a show for everything: Jersey Shore, American Idol, Real Housewives, 19 Kids and Counting, The Real World, Survivor, Storage Wars, Duck Dynasty, Dancing With the Stars, Deadliest Catch, Face Off, Hell’s Kitchen, Judge Judy, Teen Mom, The Bachelorette, America’s Next Top Model, Tanked, The Apprentice, Moonshiners, The Biggest Loser, Extreme Makeover, Ghost Hunters, Fear Factor, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, and more. One would think that in this small list of the growing number of reality television programs, you could find at least one show that actually depicts something resembling real life. Go ahead, I challenge you to try! In their attempts to recreate day to day life, television producers have left out one crucial element: reality. Before getting swept up in the reality TV craze, ask yourself, whose reality is this? If you’re a rich Guido housewife with 19 kids (one of which is a pageant queen), a knack for sci-fi make-up and costume design, a passion for creating multi-million dollar fish tanks, and a ghost haunting your mansion, you’ll easily be able to find something appealing and relatable to watch. However, for the rest of us, finding a show that’s relatable isn’t so easy.

                I find myself entirely unable to relate to shows like Buckwild or The Hills, which claim to depict the life of average teenagers. However, many shows exist that successfully recreate both the mundane and the dramatic qualities of everyday life. Shows such as Degrassi, Awkward, and Freaks and Geeks mirror the reality of the everyday life of a teenager, without the claim of reality TV, far better than those intended to be realistic. Not every teen can say that they’ve experienced the lavish life of the Hollywood hills, or the risqué lifestyle of West Virginian teens. However, every teen can probably say that they’ve faced, or known someone to face the challenges presented in shows like Degrassi, such as peer pressure, suicide, drug use, violence, death, teen pregnancy, bullying, self-injury, body image problems, and psychological disorders. In their attempts to recreate reality, creators of these shows continuously overlook and ignore the qualities of real life that make it relatable, in search of something more entertaining and less realistic.

                Reality shows claim to be raw, unscripted life, and depict life in its natural environment. However, when TV crews are following you around during your day to day activities, situations are bound to be manipulated. I know that if my life was the focus of a reality show, broadcast for millions of people to see, I would always put on make-up, be more conscious of what I say and do, and probably leave my dorm room more. Already, I’ve admitted that my reality show would be a manipulated version of reality, and therefore not reality at all. It’s not always easy to be yourself under the pressure and judgments of all those surrounding your life, let alone millions of viewers. I know I would feel incredibly uncomfortable being boring Katie Spiegel if millions of people were watching me. I would hope that there were make-up artists, and joke writers on staff to make me funnier and better looking. Also, if my real life were on TV, I would be forced to question whether my friendships and interactions were real or just fabrications from fame mongers. Not to mention, if I were getting paid, I probably wouldn’t be nice or let things slide. I would take advantage of my situation and probably be ruthlessly mean and say whatever I think because I’m rich and I can, and that’s what Americans want to see, apparently. As you can see, just the thought of being the focus of a TV show has made me doubt who I am, change the way I act/speak, stage situations, and toss my morals out the window. If you think that reality TV stars don’t face the same dilemmas, you’re not being realistic.

                Maybe real life can’t be found on TV because real life does not belong on TV. Television exists to escape reality, not create it. No one’s life is as consistently funny as Family Guy or Workaholics, or as dramatic as Breaking Bad or Sons of Anarchy, or as interesting as Supernatural or Game of Thrones. TV shows are created to give examples of what could be, or what would be, allowing us to imagine what it would be like to be something we’re not. Occasionally, a show comes along that actually depicts something we’ve faced, and gives us an example of how others dealt with it, allowing us as viewers to judge their actions. More often than not, TV is exaggerated and unrealistic. Real life can’t be recreated by TV because real life is full of boring routines and work and TV is the escape from those realities. TV is meant to entertain, not to bore us to death with the same routine we face each day. When seeking out real life to recreate, reality TV creators tend to fabricate interesting situations because they aren’t as common in real life as they are on TV. Maybe it’s time to face the fact that there is no such thing as “reality TV” because reality doesn’t belong on TV.

Eggers vs Eggers

The two passages I’ll be using are:

Pg. 204, the long passage where he works out how he’ll fit into the cast of The Real World, as the “tragic person.”
vs.
Pg.235-237, the passage where he, very dramatically, begs to be on the show.

The biggest difference is the tone. The first is light hearted, kind of funny. He’s telling this interviewer that he basically has the show all figured out in the way of the cast members, using sometimes short choppy sentences, contrasted with these long sentences of description, saying how certain people will influence the show. It’s also funny because it’s pretty dead on. He expresses this tone by almost thinking out loud, for example, when he says, “Maybe an Asian or Latino, or both. Or wait. A Native American. You should get a Native American!” he’s planning this out as he goes, and agreeing with himself. He then goes on a tangent (I think tangents might be his forte) about how he’s never met an Indian, then comes back to the original discussion. 

However, in the second passage, he’s very desperate and points out all of the things that make him tragic and how he can play them up for sympathy. It’s sad and almost a little pathetic that he wants so badly to be on this awful show. His tone is expressed really well through really long run on sentences, frantically searching for something that will make the interviewer think “this is our guy!” and then really short sentences that are concise, but very impactful. For example, “I will be shot in an elevator, I will be swallowed in a sinkhole, will drown, so I need to bring this message now; I only have so much time, I know that sounds ridiculous, I seem young, healthy, strong, but things happen, I know you may not think so, but things happen to me, to those around me, they truly do, you’ll see, so I need to grab this while I can, because I could go at any minute, Laura, Mother, Father, God—Let me be the conduit.” He’s almost in a panic here, thinking the words as he says them, trying to get out exactly what he means, over and over again. In contrast, he as these little short sentences that increase his panic, but slow his writing, our reading, down, for example, “I could die soon. I probably already have AIDS. Or cancer.” He’s thinking out loud, but retains the frantic, desperate tone.

Eggers Emulation.

The author wishes to first acknowledge two things:
1. Although the following story and it's details are true, the author does not condone any behavior that is either similar in action, similar in consequence or similar in stupidity.
2. The author wishes to acknowledge her tardiness on this assignment, and the actual convenience of said tardiness. You see, if the author had done the blog post on time, the chance to tell this story that lends itself so very well to Eggers' style would have been lost. That said, the author hopes that the tardiness can be forgiven due to the convenience of the situation.

Here is a dog that looks awkwardly similar to a towel....

It's the last day of spring break, 70 degrees outside, and 3:00 in the morning- well actually, 2:00 in the morning, in reality, because of the time change... but that is superfluous. Sitting in the living room of a friend's house, surrounded by a group of friends from high school can cause a dangerous kind of nostalgia. The kind of nostalgia that takes you back to the feeling of being in high school, being stupid, being a kid still, being carefree... and even careless. The nostalgia set in about 30 minutes after a small bout of drinking. Whenever drinking with these friends, we kept things completely classy. On this particular occasion, our drink special was 3 shots of Kamchatka, eyeball measured, in a coffee mug and served with a room temperature 2 liter of Cherry Coke, passed around, for chasing.
With this dangerous form of nostalgia, as well as the alcohol, coursing through our veins, we were ready for whatever the world could throw at us. After the unanimous decision, of those in the room, to play hide and go seek tag outside, we made our way out of the confines of the apartment complex and found ourselves across the street from the familiar sets of commercial buildings and the daycare center that sat across from Nikki's house since we've been friends. I stood by and watched as my friends caused a ruckus in the day care parking lot, jumping over a giant melting pile of snow, trying to remain responsible.
After they grew tired of the snow, my friends decided to climb the roofs of the commercial buildings; each had a 3-4 foot stone wall attached to a 45 degree angle roof, allowing the climber maximum clearance to climb. Having never seen an opportunity so perfect for climbing, I partook in the exploration and climbed the roof, knowing it wasn't the best idea. Looking down from the roof, we scanned the streets and the surroundings; everything was silent and still.
Out of seemingly nowhere, a fat man in a black jacket came around the corner of the next building over, looking intently in the bushes with his flashlight. It's a cop. Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea. What the fuck? This is the goddamn middle of Westerville, and I've even been pulled over within 100 feet of this building, of course the cops would come. I watch as two of my friends make the quickest escape I've ever seen, causing the loud scraping of shoes-on-shingles to give away our position. Knowing that I couldn't risk getting caught, Nikki decided to leave me and one other person to hide, giving himself up to the cop in an all too cheerful way. He is such a dumb ass. We're fucked. "Hey, you! Boy! What the hell are you doing up there? Get over here and sit your ass on the curb!" Great. The cop said "boy"... he's already decided that Nikki, a tall but lanky black kid, is guilty. "Okee dokee, sir!" How is Nikki so naive? At this point, we're on the other side of the roof, trying to stay concealed. Fuck. My first rooftop, and I'm going to go to jail for it. Fuck! There is no way I'm jumping off the roof. Alex is going to jump off the roof.... and Alex is also going to expect me to jump.... I should jump. Fuck! If I jump, my dumb ass is going to break something and not even be able to run away or maybe fall and hit my head and get knocked out. Fuck that, I'm not jumping. The cop keeps shining his flashlight into the parking lot of the building, causing us to panic then feel relief when the light did not come round the corner, each time. Eventually there will be 5 cop cars here and they will find us. I'm fucked. I'm going to get kicked out of school, I'm going to get thrown in jail, my parents will disown me, and probably not even send me cool stuff in jail, I'm so fucking fucked. I hear Nikki blabber some nonsense about star gazing by himself as he's handcuffed and shoved into the back of a cruiser. God damnit Nikki. At this point, Alex is on the edge of the roof, waiting to jump down, feeling the urgency as we know our distraction has worn out. Two beams of light flicker across the lot and come around the corner. Why did I wear this bright yellow hoodie? I'm immediately visible but try and flatten myself into the crease of the roof where two parts come together. The light hits my eyes, as I divert my gaze and see Alex, about two feet away, also blinded by the lights. We're caught. Fuck. The cops order us to come down on the other side, and as we do so, a lady cop comes out of the trees and starts screaming "DON'T MOVE! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, COME DOWN WITH YOUR HANDS UP! DON'T MOVE!" At the time, so not funny; right now, though, so funny. This lady cop thinks she's just caught some crazy bank robber or something way cooler than 3 twenty year olds, sitting on a roof. I see, as I predicted, 5 police cars, including one from a different township and a police SUV. FUCK! We get down and are immediately "detained"... see, first thing Alex says is "are we under arrest?" so the cops know that we know that they can't cuff us unless we're under arrest or they make up some reason to detain us, maybe we're a threat to their safety, but our knowledge of the proper procedures should not be flaunted because it will only give away the fact that each of us has had to deal with cops before, and know how it goes, or should go. I wish Alex knew that. Nikki is nowhere to be found. God, I hope they didn't already take him to HQ or where ever these men base their operations. Jesus I think this cop just pulled my arm out of its socket. Ow. I wish I had pushed my hair out of my face before being "detained". This one stupid hair is really bothering my chin right now and I'm going to freak out. FUCK! "We aren't going to file any charges, but as soon as your dumb ass friend over here gets those other two dumb ass friends of yours back here, and I chew all your dumb asses out, you'll be able to go." WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? A cop... a Westerville cop... being cool? I feel the weight of LIFE IN PRISON and KICKED OUT OF SCHOOL instantly fall off of my shoulders as I realize I'm going to walk away from this with nothing but maybe bruises from the handcuffs, and really great story to tell.


Fin.