The Edutained American :: essays research papers fc

The â€Å"Edutained† American You may try to deny it; many of us do. We are our own people, with our own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. We are individuals, and nothing influences us without our knowledge and permission. Certainly not the media; we create the media, after all, and direct it with our own tastes and preferences. It is merely a part of our lives, a not-too pervasive part. We say this with absolute certainty and still know that we lie. For the media is not a part of our lives, it is our lives. It directs us, moves us towards what its creators, directors and sponsors want us to see. Everything we do is not media influenced, it is media-dictated. In some ways, our modern information systems are helpful. They are, after all, informative. From these systems we learn, we process the information they bring on current events, popular culture, and every other subject known to man. But the information is tainted. It is filtered through the corporate sponsors and the agen das of those who bring it to us. Therefore we bow to the opinions of those who give us our knowledge on every subject they expose us to, from the clothes we buy, to the music we listen to, the films we see, books we read, politicians we vote for, religions we believe in. Our thoughts are not our own. What does this mean to the world in which we live? How does this effect our leaders, our schools and our families? And in a society so permeated with media, how do we regain ourselves? Part One: What are our influences? For many of us who attend college now, the media has been around us since birth. The television was a effective babysitter, and we grew up accustomed to the quick, joke-a-minute style of cartoons and situation comedies. With the advent of MTV in 1981, we learned to absorb information through the two and three minute stories offered on that channel, as well as VH1 and BET. These channels opened to us a world that most of our parents simply didn’t see as children. O ne hour of MTV’s Total Request Live can show a child a re-enactment of JFK’s assassination, done by Marylin Manson, in one of the most popular videos of the week. The words of the song, however true and relevant they may be, are lost in the image, in closeup and slow motion.

The Culling – Creative Writing

‘Dear God†¦' the mayor screamed, as he crawled out from under his desk and pulled open the draw to reveal a steel dagger point, ‘†¦forgive me,' he cried as he charged at the beast's stomach. The only spectator, a smartly dressed Indian who sat like a statue in the shadows at the back of the hall. The hideous beast knocked the weapon from his attacker's hand and leapt onto the mayor's back. Though well built, the mayor's struggles were no match for the beast, and he soon crashed to the floor under the immense weight. ‘I had a wife and child,' He begged for mercy as the snarling beast rammed his face into the blood-smeared floor, snapping his jaw in two. ‘So did my father, sir.' The Indian reminded the dying man, still there at the back of the hall but with a voice that boomed. ‘But†¦' the mayor begged for help from the Indian one last time, though his plea was unheard mainly because of the fact the mayor had a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. The mayor stared at the severed head of a pretty young female; whose body still sat upright over in the line of chairs. Mirrored in her eyes he could see the destruction of all those who he had known. The pretty girl had been the first to die, and he would be the last. Something punctured the side of the mayor's neck; he felt like he was drowning as his lungs filled with blood. He was left to watch the girl's face sink into blackness as his light was snuffed out in the bloodiest of ways. The Indian sat emotionless, his white suit unmarked despite the destruction which had unfolded in front of him. He watched the beast play with the dead mayor like a rag doll, and listened to its screams of pleasure, he had watched the carnage without any remorse. These people had driven his ancestors off their land and murdered his family, this was the only way in which their souls would be put at rest. When the beast ripped out the still warm heart of the Mayors did he allow a smile of satisfaction, then a command for the organ to be crushed. From his pocket, the Indian pulled out a charm which was small, black, and made from some sort of stone it was also in the rough shape of the beast itself. ‘Fugue Santen†¦' He began to chant in his ancient tongue, the beast stood still. The Indian rose from his chair and made his way through the bodies towards the beast. ‘Lasa imenzes†¦' his voice filled the hall as he worked the ancient magic with his chants. He held the amulet in front of him, staring up into the eyes of the beast, which then turned to walk toward the Indian, towering head and shoulders above the Indian, unable to avoid the Indians hypnotic stare. The Indian had finished his spell. The town hall was silent once again but suddenly, a blinding flash of the most immense light came from the charm the indian had in his hand. The light blinded the beast with its beauty. The beast raised its arms in front of its face in defence, and then slowly the beast dropped onto its knees and began to walk on all fours back toward the wooden carving from which it had sprung to life. The Indian sighed and knew he had to work fast to collect the souls of his victims, which hovered in the attic above him. Until the last soul had been captured the Indians quest for vengeance would not be over. He left the mayors soul till last for the Mayor had been his main target. The Mayor had been the instrument of the death from which the order for his family's death had come. The charm warm in his palm, soon grew uncomfortably hot as he used its powers to collect the souls of his victims, he needed to avenge his family who had been murdered by the hand of the settlers less than half a century ago. So called men of God, who had slain his family and left him to starve in the mountains. He would have starved, had it not been for the witch who had found him and looked after him as her own, while also teaching him the ancient native Indian magic needed to avenge his family's death. Now the act of revenge was complete, the Indian had no purpose in life, his goal had been accomplished. The Indian knelt down on the steps leading up to the town hall, pulled out the sacrificial knife which his ancestors had once used and gave up his life in the hope he would once again be reunited with the souls of his ancestors. As the Indians blood dripped down the steps, his spirit soared as it was reunited with his brothers and sisters. Earlier†¦ The Mayor waited for quiet, noting the next number on the item list. As the labourer wheeled the small wooden crate into the crowded village hall the crowd fell silent. â€Å"the vengeful guardian.† he introduced the item to the bidders as the man opened the hinged crate to reveal the impressive carving within. ‘A fine example of a early Native American Indian carvings.' The Mayor paused to read the description of the item; ‘Hand carved from forest Cedar.' An amused look came upon the mayors face, ‘I wouldn't want to wake him with insults, so we'll start the bidding at five hundred dollars. Do I see five hundred and ten?' the mayor asked, he scanned the faces of the townsfolk, their eyes still fixed on the carving. The Mayor noticed that a crack had appeared on the carving it ran straight down the middle. Suddenly a beam shot out of the crack, splitting the carving straight in two. Women began to scream people ran for the exits, but the doors were locked. Meanwhile, at the back of the hall an Indian man in a suit finished his pipe, then quietly moved in to the shadows behind him. His whispered chants going unnoticed as he began to rub at an object inside his jacket pocket. The first victim of the beast was the girl nearest, a beautiful young girl. She was in shock unable to move as the beast swung its razor sharp claws and severed the girl's head in one deadly accurate blow. The Indian was amused when watching the townsfolk and their feeble efforts to escape their inevitable doom†¦

Zadeh Rhetorical Analysis - 1952 Words

Zadeh is an immigrant from Urmia Iran, plagued by the injustices and maddening systems of American immigration policies. In addition, once he does eventually get into the country, the blockades to starting up his business have no interest in easing off. By exposing these malpractices to a larger audience, Zadeh wants to convince readers that immigration policies are more of a hindrance than a help. Zadeh’s main rhetoric use is pathos, and his emotional ties to his experience gives the reader a very clear and thoughtful description of the horrors of immigration. However, he doesn’t shy away from other appeals, he makes sure to back up his claims with facts given by very credible sources and personal involvement. Since he is a co founder/CEO†¦show more content†¦In the next couple paragraphs, Zadeh wants to emphasize the 3 main points. How driven he was, his’ and his partner’s (Alex Mehr) intelligence, and the unpleasantries he had to wade through f or traveling towards America. Zadeh was in a country affected by war, stating he was â€Å"dreaming of moving away and doing some great with my life†. He wants the reader to understand that he was in the battered parts of the world but wanted to make the best of it, appealing to sympathy in his audience, making his hardship feel more trustworthy and sincere. Zadeh at the age of 17 moved to study computer science at a prestigious university, where he met his partner and they both were accepted to Ph.D. programs in mechanical engineering, and computer science at the University of Maryland. These facts further his claim of how determined he was, as well as implementing a sense of high intelligence of him and others around him. He wants to make his argument more tangible, that these war-torn countries DO in fact produce highly motivated and intelligent workers. To summarize, Zadeh mainly appeals to pathos, specifically the reader’s image of the successful individual, but a lso appeals to ethos by giving background credentials of himself for added credibility. He chooses to say these instances because he knows people will be more inclined be on his side if he