Flynn versus Bromden

As I tune in with my bros for the New England Patriots versus Green Bay Packers game on NBC's Football Night in America, I am about as aware of this blog due date as the Patriots are of the onside kick by the Packers to begin the game. Thankfully, I sit with two of the best and brightest that our town has to offer, Sam Schiferl and Thomas Donley, who begin the obligatory "blog banter," during the halftime festivities. Immediately, I spring from my relaxed state on the couch to a full-on AP English intensity mode that would rival Tom Brady's pre-game state of mind. Furthermore, I start to see parallels between Matt Flynn, the Packers' quarterback, and our beloved Chief Bromden. Flynn, a virtual no-name before Pro-Bowl quarterback Aaron Rodgers was injured, flew under the radar for most of his career until tonight where he jumped into the national spotlight and threw for two touchdowns in the first half. Similarly, Bromden waited in the shadows and pretended to be deaf and dumb until McMurphy entered the ward. Like Flynn, Bromden made a significant impact when he entered the fight against the black boys and escaped from the ward after McMurphy's lobotomy. However, another similarity does not bode well for the two lovable heros: Flynn ended up falling short to the dominant Patriots, and Bromden potentially could fall short in society as well. He enters a cold world when he escapes from the ward, leaving behind the protected circumstances that were so familiar to him and as Flynn found out tonight, not all stories have a Disney ending.

The Beast

Immediately upon entering the classroom, a dark presence was felt by all of the students in the unusually small AP English 12 eighth period class. Unlike the normal anxiety that many of us have grown used to, this was different, an entirely new Beast. A Beast that, with his mere attendance, controlled the attention of the room and the teacher. A Beast that, with his unique vocalization and careful choice of vocabulary, poked fun at the other domineering figure in the room. A Beast that, with a simple gaze and no words, made every student fear his ability to strike down an unintelligent discussion and leave the participants looking like fools. A Beast that, with his diligent note-taking, forced me to wonder what he could possibly learn from mere mortals like ourselves. Why would the Beast not give his opinion on Bromden or the Nurse? What were the Beast’s motives behind his random appearance into our class, our ward? (Only because this is an english blog will I relate the beast to McMurphy through these inquiries; however, let it be known that McMurphy pales in comparison to the Beast) I think we all know who I speak of–– he who must not be named, he who commands respect, and he who could be back tomorrow which brings me to my concluding point: I beg not to have this blog revealed in the “Banter” if the Beast graces us with his presence again, to avoid his incredible wrath. 

Does AdSense Make Sense?

As I searched the blogger design section today to find interesting gadgets to place on my wall, I came across an intriguing little function called AdSense. After further research, I concluded AdSense is system, created by Google, which allows bloggers and other website developers to post advertisements on their sites and watch their wallets grow. So this blog is actually more of a question to Ms. Serensky than anything: will points be taken off the blog if we conduct a business venture while extending our AP English knowledge? I know what many of you may be saying, how much money could you possibly make off this? To answer, after a short investigation on the web I found that anywhere from two cents to fifteen dollars can be made per click. Ok, so let’s just take the worst possible scenario and say we make two cents per click. This would figure out to be around 10 dollars for Thomas Donley who has a blog that’s been viewed about 500 times. Which strays me a little off topic when I say how is this possible? My blog has not yet reached the 200 hit mark and Kreger’s fascinating yet controversial posts hover near 325 hits. My only conclusion is that Thomas, himself, has viewed his blog over 200 times alone (which I hope creates a Dear Journal moment in the near future). However, if we retrace back to my money-making ploy, I would just like to say at this point in high school any money is welcome, especially money that comes from an, already obligatory, blog post. So I pose the question once more, would this be an action that is frowned upon in the esteemed ranks of AP English?

Where Does The Intimidation Come From?

In most every other class, a quiet observer will witness a fair number of high schoolers with either their heads flat on their desks, or with the common back-pack pillow used to a full effect. The dormant creatures normally have drool emerging from their wide open mouths and a shiny, red sleep-mark on their foreheads when class ends. After a long night of homework (especially Data Sheet Eves) I am as guilty as the next guy for taking a little snooze in class. However, in AP English even the known sleepers refrain from any such actions due to the simple presence of the one and only Ms. Serensky. Which brings me to my next point: Where does the intimidation that she controls so eloquently, come from? Ask anyone who has ever met or even seen Ms. Serensky to describe her and I guarantee one characteristic would be “intimidating”. Although, for as long as I can remember (granted that time period may not impress many) she has never become visibly angry with a student for behavior problems, something I am unable to say about any other teacher in the school. Once again I pose the question, where does the intimidation come from? I do not fear her physical presence, like many would say about Mr. Perrine or even Ms. Beach. I do not fear a constant barrage of insults, which resembles the teaching style of Mr. Sweeney. However, there is not a teacher in the school who I fear more than Ms. Serensky. I am only able to draw this conclusion: she is the teacher students strive to impress the most as well as disappoint the least, and these two goals contain the fear of not succeeding. I believe this fear along with her intangibles that remain indescribable create the intimidating aura that hovers around her at all times. 

Chief Bromden's Worldliness

As I read the first section of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey, the intelligence of the first-person narrator, Chief Bromden, thoroughly intrigued me. I found multiple examples of situations where I thought it was unnecessary for him to live in an insane asylum. Primarily, his usage of abstract similes to compare events that occurred in the hospital with allusions to real life sparked my skepticism. Immediately, the Chief describes the “eyes glittering out of the black faces” and compares them to “the hard glitter of radio tubes out of the back of an old radio” (3). The mechanical diction “radio tubes” indirectly characterizes Bromden as knowledgeable of electronics and prone to observe distinct details like “the hard glitter.” Does he have skills as a mechanic? Could he be preforming a service in the real world by fixing broken radios? Furthermore, he determines that the nurse swells up and becomes “as big as a tractor” which gives light to the fact he worked on a farm at some point in his life (5). Could he enter the work force on a farm, where extreme mental acuteness is not needed, instead of rotting away on tax dollars in a hospital room? Finally, Bromden intelligently compares McMurphy to “a car salesman or a stock auctioneer” which brings forth the fact that Bromden experienced the slyness in both professions and understands the tactics both an auctioneer and salesman use (13). I am convinced if society allowed Chief Bromden to test his skills in the real world, a successful businessman would emerge solely due to his knowledge of many different situations and people. 

Kesey's Timeline

Whooaa... why are the walls breathing... why do I see purple triangles surrounding my head... why is there an intensification of colors and brightness on the computer screen... why is there an after image-like trail of my finger when I move it in front of my eyes? This is craaaazy! Obviously, I am not under the influence of LSD and this description comes straight from an account on Yahoo Answers (there are some poor souls in the world today); however, author Ken Kesey experimented with the drug more than enough times for all of us in AP English 12. Although, none of us, hopefully, will never experiment with illegal drugs in such a manner as Kesey, I found that our lives in AP English 12 and into our college years to yield many similarities to Kesey’s time on earth. Allow me to explain. 

When we walked into that classroom, secluded from all others, in the farthest corner and on the very top floor of the school, we embarked on a journey that will contrast the rest of our lives immensely. Similarly, Kesey’s life takes a shift that rival the plutonic plates. The man faked an elaborate suicide, and fled to Mexico, only to be arrested by authorities for possession of marijuana eight months later after his reentrance into the US. But after his release from prison, Kesey magically transformed into a new man, quietly raising a family on his farm in Oregon. An anti-climactic ending to say the least. However, it parallels many students’ end to their English careers. The emotional roller coaster with Ms. Serensky at the helm is as exciting to knowledgeable onlookers as Kesey’s drug fiasco. The ride is unforgettable but some move on like Kesey pursue careers in other fields such as mathematics and science. I am assuredly not bashing the importance of English in our everyday lives, I merely state that nothing in the future, of non-english majors, will rival the intense analyzation of the English language that occurs daily in AP English. 

As much as I would like to consider a time when data sheets do not exist, Kesey’s life timeline serves as a reminder that we are still in the drug usage stage (the AP English workload drug) and have not moved into the quiet life on the Oregon farm just yet.

Keeping Up

As I sit in front of my computer and try to think of blog topics that haven’t been brutally abused over the last few weeks, nothing specific comes to mind. However, a book that lies right beside me sparks an idea for this upcoming post. Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell has recently, like Kreger, been my pleasure reading book of choice and contributes to the motive behind this discussion.

It seems as though our AP English class does an unusual amount of complaining about the workload given to us and trust me, I am as guilty as anyone. Although, after reading Outliers my perspective has completely shifted, hopefully for the long haul. During the book, Gladwell discusses the differences between Asian and American abilities in subjects like math and science where the typical assumption is that Asian students contain higher IQs and therefore excel beyond their American counterparts. However, contrary to that popular belief, the intellectual achievements from Asian students stem from their ability to simply outwork everyone else. Priscilla Blinco conducted an experiment which investigated the amount of time American students put into an incredibly difficult puzzle versus the amount of time from Japanese students: the Japanese lasted roughly 40% longer than the Americans before "giving up". You get the point. 

The conclusion I came to after reading this passage coupled with the spirit of Thanksgiving is: I am extremely thankful AP English pushes me to my limits. Furthermore, Ms. Serensky does not allow for any of this so-called "giving up" which keeps me, at least for the time being, in stride with those darned Asians. 

Only In AP English

Days before break, days with a substitute teacher, or days that follow incredibly difficult exams usually describe the days where a movie plays in front of the class for an entire period and students feel completely relaxed. If someone wants to let their eyelids slightly droop and doze off for an extended period of time, not a single person cares because anything goes on movie days. Homework, quiet chatter, calculator gaming, or even a short nap all remain acceptable activities while the teacher grades papers or leaves the room to make copies for their next class. When a movie appears on the television screen or on the board from a projector, the class, no matter what the subject, transforms into a joke.However, AP English 12 is (Passive Voice ALERT! A perfect example of how much this class screws with my brain) not any class. When word gets around that we watched The Namesake in our eighth period class, my first reaction did not resemble the expected “Oh yeah!” but closely paralleled “Oh no! What kind of eight page analyzation paper on the differences between tone shifts in the book and movie will we have to write next?” As eighth period drew nearer, the anticipation built. Would we immediately need to take notes and further wear out our exhausted brains after they completed a marathon data sheet the previous evening? Or would she, once, show mercy upon our dilapidated fingers and allow tranquility to settle over the pitiable classroom. Unusual amounts of light sifted through the blinds as I walked into the room that fateful afternoon, “a good omen,” I thought hopefully. I sat down and grabbed a pen out of my backpack to prepare for the worst and yet, it never came. We joyfully watched forty-five minutes of a film with no subtitles to compensate for the Bengali spoken in most scenes and no recognizable actors except Kumar from the “Harold and Kumar” series. This ranks on my “Top 10 Greatest Surprises” list and only trails the Quinn-Hillis trade (pure Denver stupidity) and my five on the AP Computer Science AP Test (Vegas gave it 1000-1 odds). The assortment of emotions due to one class still stuns me and I must leave readers with.... only in AP English. 

Did I Miss Something?

(I apologize in advance for the following entry, this comes after five straight hours of the data sheet)

As we come to the conclusion of our beloved book The Namesake, I tend to find myself asking the same question over and over, "Did I miss something?" Please, allow me to list a few words off the top of my head: money, women, sex, and power. This could either quote the Donald Trump personal slogan, or highlight the majority of Gogol Ganguli's life on earth. Throughout the entire novel our class pours over Gogol's internal conflicts and relationship issues and insecurities and family disputes and troubles in assimilation and blah blah blah. Once again, "Did I miss something?" Gogol Ganguli lives the freaking life! The man partied in high school, found himself at Yale, became an architect, lives in the most vibrant city in the world, and dates beautiful, intelligent women who have commitment issues. I still have yet to see a single problem in his life. Ok, so he divorces his wife before the age of thirty-five and he has slight insecurities due to his name, big deal! Half of America divorces at some point in their lives, and the name change remains his own little idiosyncrasy. I realize he ventures through a rough patch with his family but who doesn't? My class spent two whole days in discussion where we talked about Gogol’s betrayal of his family when he moved in with the Ratliffs. Can we really fault him for his move into an all-inclusive mansion, where people tend to his every need and take him on breath-taking vacations to one of the most remote and beautiful locations in the United States? He dines nightly on “sushi and salads and cold poached salmon” which makes my mouth water, versus his former living conditions where “there is so much street noise that when he is on the phone...people often ask if he is calling from a pay phone” (142, 126). Who would not make that move? Before I conclude, I plead that someone can explain to me where I can find the negatives in Gogol’s life but until then, “Did I miss something?”

You Go Ahead

When discussions begin in AP English 12, the mood of the room immediately changes from its lively pre-class routine of dissing Thomas and poking fun at Carolyn to a every-man for himself attitude. In all honesty, who wants to get a nine out of fifteen for their lack of effort to speak? The class remains so intense that a sharp knife could slice right through the tension in the class. Everyone knows the awkward feeling when two people begin to speak at the exact same time and no-one knows what to do even though this situation occurs daily. The person who continues to talk almost always leaves a noticeable trace of guilt that stems from their robbery of points from a fellow classmate (the only exception I have found to this “guilt rule” remains Henry). The tension and guilt, that routinely comes hand in hand with these discussions, parallels the marriage of Gogol and Moushumi perfectly. Following their first anniversary dinner, Moushumi begins to have “tears filming her eyes” and Gogol considerately questions her but after no substantial answer to her sadness he begins “to lose his patience with her” (252, 253). The lack of communication in their marriage leads to incredibly awkward situations and foreshadows a potential break-up in the Ganguli’s future. Furthermore, after Moushumi starts her affair with Dimitri she endures multiple sleepless nights and the supposedly indifferent narrator states that, “She stays awake for hours after they’ve turned out the lights” (265). The inability to calmly drift off to sleep indirectly characterizes Moushumi as extremely guilty and uncomfortable with her marital situation. The author, Jhumpa Lahiri, utilizes pathos to evoke hatred toward Moushumi because even with her immense guilt she continues to cheat on Gogol. The parallel between the tension and guilt in our class discussions and in the Ganguli’s marriage thoroughly intrigues me even though the situations contrast each other tremendously. 

The Light That Left Me

The warmth upon my hand calmed the slight cramps I received from writing a painful journal entry on the characterization of Moushumi and Gogol’s absurd relationship; however, as I soon found out, all good things must come to an end. The following afternoon when I anxiously awaited that afternoon sunlight, a dark, frightening shadow engulfed the beam of hope that shown into the treacherous room. As quickly as she came, and eliminated my happiness, she left without a word other than, “No sunlight for you, you can live in the darkness like me!” and a cackling laughter that still, almost a week later, wakes me in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Ironically, a frost seemed to drift over the entire class that fateful afternoon when this denier of light, Ms. Serensky, left us with the horrific notion that the narrator contains an indifferent, didactic tone throughout the entirety of The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri and gives just the straightforward facts with no emotion. I am horrified by this statement because throughout the book I did not recognize this purely factual style, which highlights my weakness in AP English 12. However, the repetition of rhetorical questions, from Moushumi, at the end of chapter eight still puzzles me because the interrogative diction “why hadn’t he told her these things?” definitely creates a saddened and confused tone towards Moushumi's former love's, Graham, actions (217). This seems to contradict the fact that the narrator has an indifferent tone but, as Ms. Serensky brilliantly put it, these questions do not come from the straightforward narrator but really from Moushumi’s mind. Nevertheless, I remain under the impression that the narrator’s purpose consists of discussing what occurs in the plot besides the dialogue. I am thoroughly convinced that the narration, which includes the rhetorical questions, consists of tone but who am I to dispute the great one? Which leaves me still cowering in darkness with no refute at least until college when I will have enough effrontery to dispute my teacher.