Sunday, July 25, 2010


Source Evaluation Blog
Marquand, Robert. "In land of few burqas, France debates a ban. ." Christian Science Monitor 06 Jul 2010. Web. 25 Jul 2010.
http://proquest.umi.com.proxy.yc.edu/pqdweb?index=2&did=2073811041&SrchMode=1&sid=3&Fmt=3&VInst=PROD&VType=PQD&RQT=309&VName=PQD&TS=1280113961&clientId=1407>.
This source is an article from the Christian Science Monitor and it discusses how many Westernized nations are considering instituting a ban on Burqas in public, or have already instituted bans on Burqas in public. While a woman in France, if the ban passes, can be fined up to $190 for wearing a Burqa in public, a man who is caught forcing a woman to wear a burqua can be fined upwards of $20,000. I intend to use this article to illustrate that Westernized countries are doing what they can to liberate women and to punish men who try to force women into these religious practices of submission.
"Reform Judaism." New World Encyclopedia. 24 Jul 2008, 19:27 UTC. Web. 25 Jul 2010, 21:10 <http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Reform_Judaism?oldid=769525>.
This is an article from an online encyclopedia, with no specific author listed. The article was last edited on July 16, 2008. As the information within is just over two years old, and the subject matter is hundreds of years old, the information therein should not be outdated. While the page resembles a Wiki, readers cannot go in directly and alter any of the text, as can be done on sites like Wikipedia. These articles are edited by World Encyclopedia authors only, and the page only allows readers to send feedback to the editors. The article is well-cited, and the information found in the article can also be found in the links referenced. There is nothing on the page that would make me question its integrity; it is not sponsored or opinionated. I would claim this to be a credible source.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010



Thesis Proposal

In the book, “The Handmaid’s Tale,” much attention is paid to how the handmaids are made to dress. In a society of religious imperialism, the clothing of those who chose, or are forced, to follow their rules is drastically altered. The clothing worn by the handmaids carry with them an associated shame, as well as a means of restraint. For my research paper, I intend to delve into the topic of religious dress, and more specifically how Margaret Atwood is satirizing the use of restrictive dress by some religious sects as a means of submitting and controlling their women.
Through the ages, religions have had a strong influence on how men and women dress. There are many religions now that require that women to dress a particular way in order to be in accordance. Some are minor, such as keeping the hair long, and some are major, such as a full body shroud that completely covers a woman and isolates her from the world around her. Some of these rules are for modesty, or practicality, and some of these rules are meant to isolate women while at the same time drawing attention to them, so as to point out their existence and warn the rest of the world to stay away. Some theoretical examples of these types of clothing can be found here.
When I first started reading this book, I did not recognize that it was a satire. I had always associated satire with comedy, but that really is not always true. I believe that exploring this topic will help me not only get a better understanding of the book, but also give me a better understanding of satire, and Atwood’s use of it. Exploring the darker side of satire will help me broaden my horizons.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Thesis Blog
1) A. I’m going to write about Darwin’s concerns with evolution in The Origin of the Species.
This is the weak thesis statement because it is a statement of what the author is doin gin the paper, not a point that the author is trying to make. The author should instead pick a smaller aspect about the subject material, make a point and pick a side.
2) A. An important part of one’s college education is learning to better understand others’ points of view.
This is the weak thesis statement because it is a broad, generalized statement that is not proving a point. It is a bit of conventional wisdom, which is obvious and does not warrant further investigation.
3) B. The jeans industry targets its advertisements to appeal to young adults.
This is the weak thesis statement because is again is a broad question with generalized, non-specific information that really needs no argument.
4) A.Othello is a play about love and jealousy.
This is the weak thesis statement, again, because it is a broad statement, a generalized argument. Also, the author takes no side here when it comes to the argument, since there really is no argument.
5) A. The songs of the punk rock group Minor Threat relate to the Feelings of individuals who dare to be different. Their songs are just composed of pure emotion. Pure emotion is very important in music, because it serves as a vehicle to convey the important message of individuality. Minor Threat’s songs are meaningful to me because I can identify with them.
This is the weak thesis statement because the author is using personal opinion to form their argument. Theoretical arguments should be based on assertations that can be supported by facts and other information. An opinion is not reliable enough for a thesis statement.

My thesis statement for the first statement of Atwood’s book would go something like this: “Through her writing, Atwood is condemning religious fanaticism, and linking its occurrence with the fall of society and the suppression of women.” I came about this thesis statement by asking myself what point the author would be trying to make with this story. I feel that different portions of the text infer that the author is warning about the dangers of religious fanaticism and its implications on established society. I feel this thesis statement is arguable, quite specific, and that there are portions of the text that would support my assertions.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Ms. Darrow,
I have definitely enjoyed my experiences with this class so far. I know I had a rough start, as my current schedule makes it hard for me to do much homework during the week, but now I am, for the most part, keeping pace.
My biggest challenge so far has been the blog pages. I have no previous experience with blogging, nor do I realistically think I will be using them in the future. There were a number of assignments where I spent far more time trying to figure out the blog site than I did on the actual assignment. The more I do, however, the easier they get. I understand the individuality this gives my education, it just hasn’t been my favorite thing. I think my biggest success has been in keeping up with the class given my current class load. 13 ½ credits in 8 weeks is a little overwhelming. But I am working hard and keeping up, so this is a success for me.
I have definitely learned a lot from the texts of this class. I honestly had never given much consideration to war, and its effects on those who fight them. I have a much greater appreciation for our GI’s and Veterans. I know I will make a point of educating my daughter, when she is a little older, about the respect these soldiers and officers diserve, and what thy have done to earn it. I am grateful for this perspective, and a number of the patients I work with are Veterans, and I can better understand what they have dealt with in their lives.
I have not done much writing in my college education, aside from the prerequisite English classes for the most part. My degree focuses on the sciences and presentations are the most common projects I get. It is nice to have more of an opportunity to express my opinion as opposed to researched fact.
As far as the second semester my goal is to keep up with the pace of the class and hopefully continue to improve my grade. I would sure hate to have my 4.0 be GPA at Yavapai be tarnished. I’m sure my blogging skills will improve as I keep working on them. I am looking forward to the rest of the class, and to Margaret Atwood’s book.
Your student,
Joanna Martodam

Thursday, July 1, 2010



Operation Homecoming

The documentary "Operation Homecoming" was by far the most moving piece I have encountered so far in this class. The manner in which it was presented effectively and poignantly conveys the emotions and experiences of the authors in the documentary and their writings. This documentary helped me to understand and, at least on a small scale, relate to what the authors had experienced, which in turn makes me better appreciate what they have written. With this appreciation for the author’s story comes an overall general appreciation o those who have gone through similar experiences; our troops.
One aspect of this documentary that I felt truly enhanced my experience of this poetry was to actually see and hear the authors relate the stories that led to the creation of these works of art. This is an opportunity that we have not yet had the experienced with the materials we have read in the class. True, O’Brien did write his book himself, and it is biographical, and so therefore he is telling us his story. However, getting the authors point of view outside of the context of the story; to get the intended perspective of a story, not just the one I, the reader, have extrapolated and interpreted, to get it from the source, that is a unique opportunity. I can read a poem and interpret it however I like. But I have never been to war and will most likely not have the same perspective as the author. The perspective I got on these poems was the author’s perspective, not just what my inexperienced mind thought my perspective should be. Having the author right there to explain his thought process helped put me in his shoes.
The scenes and sounds presented along with the poems also helped to give me more perspective on the author’s intentions with their writing. Actually seeing the horrors the authors are describing while they are describing them further cements the impact of the war on the psyches of the authors. It is one thing to read a poem, it is quite another thing to hear it, see it, and feel it. The dramatic reading of the poems also plays along with this theme. The poems were not read as broken rhyming lines, but instead as moving thoughts, augmented with a natural rhythym and rhyme. The lines flowed off the lips of the readers much as they flowed out of the minds of the authors.
Another aspect of the poetry that struck me was how masculine it was. For some reason, I seem to equate poetry with femininity. Maybe this is because I am a girl, but nonetheless, poems rarely make me think of men. These poems had a raw masculinity that I have never experienced in a poem, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the guns and the bombs and the tanks. I think this masculinity comes more from how the authors are grappling with the juxtaposition of fighting for one’s country and doing what he thinks is expected of him, and having to commit heinous crimes and acts that he feels are innately wrong. Many poems are generally about trying to make peace with humanity, and trying to find good in it. These poems are about these men finding peace their inhumanity, and trying to find good in that.
Thnis leads me to a quote towards the end of the film that really touched me and made me think. Tobias Wolff states, “That’s the sign of a really decadent civilization that sends young people out to do and to suffer the things that soldiers do and suffer in wars and not to care about what those things are, and not to have any cost laid on them, even of knowing what is going on. Even to avoid that cost, that’s a decadence (1:04:08).” This statement is so true, and so eye opening. I am one of those decadent people, and I really have no idea what goes on over there. I can read about it, and write about it, I can watch the news and talk politics with friends, but as with many experiences in life, you just don’t know until you’ve been there. So if this film made me feel this bad, and I’ve only seen a tiny glimpse into their reality, what is it like to live it?
This film touched me in a way than none of the materials I have encountered in this class have touched me. This poem gave me a perspective on the reality of war that I had somehow missed in the texts. This caused me to go back and reevaluate what I have already read and learned in this class. I got new insight into most of the material due to my new appreciation for what was really being written about. I know there isn’t much I can do about the predicament of the war-bound soldier. But I’m not sure that was the purpose of the poems. These soldiers weren’t asking for help, or telling a story, they are trying to be understood. War has changed them in a way that only war can. Until the reader understands this, they can’t understand the true meanings of their stories. I think Tim O’Brien said it best, torwards the end of the film, where he states, “It’s probably what art does, what its function is. It can put you in the shoes of that poor sucker, you know, pinned down in that poor little courtyard in the middle of nowhere, and make you care about him (1:05:22).”

Forrest Gump and Vietnam: Another Perspective
The film Forrest Gump has become an American Classic. This film follows Forrest Gump, an intellectually challenged man from his childhood through his adult years as he inadvertently participates in some of the most notorious political and historical events of our recent American past. A good portion of the film takes place in, and is later affected by, the Vietnam War. While many of the common themes from that war are present in the movie, such as the carnage, the boredom, the suffering and loss of human life, one theme stood out to me; this theme is reestablishing personal purpose in life after bearing witness to a war.
Lieutenant Dan Taylor is the commanding officer at Fort Platoon, where Gump is stationed in Vietnam. His reason for being in the war is not congruent with a lot of the reasons we have seen presented so far in the texts of this class, such as being drafted, avoiding personal and familial disappointment, or to serve and protect America and its freedom. No, Lieutenant Dan was in the army for a much different purpose; to die. He had a long family history of men in his family serving and dying in every major American War. His intention was to carry on this family tradition. I think Gump stated it best when he said, “I guess you could say he had a lot to live up to (43:33).”
The first time I saw this movie, I did not understand this. He survived the war, he was alive. Yes, he was crippled. I knew there was stigma attached to being disabled, but I felt that this was more in his head than in reality. He thought more poorly about him being a cripple than most of the people he encountered thought of him. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t move on. After reading Sean Huze’s “The Sand Storm,” I gained a greater understanding of his train of thought. To go to war, to see the kind of things one sees, and then to lose your legs in the process, only to go back Home and be seen as a social outcast; that can be a bit of a slap in the face. To add insult to injury (no pun intended), Lieutenant Dan had planned on dying in the war. He had no plan for what he was going to do after he was sent home. Now not only did he have a future with no plans, he also has to make these new plans with no legs. He went from being a war hero forever supported by infamy, to being a crippled Veteran ever dependant on government assistance. This is a harsh descent.
So after this realization, Lieutenant Dan’s desire to die makes sense. So does his inability to move past this disappointment and move on. His bitterness is the last shred he has left after having his dreams taken from him only to have them replaced by a much harsher reality. His inability to move on keeps him attached to his dead dream; at the time it’s the only dream he has to hold on to. This mental block that is keeping him from moving on is his security blanket while he adjusts to life after the war.
Later in the movie, Lieutenant Dan joins Gump on his shrimping boat and they eventually become successful. After a fateful night on the sea battling a hurricane, Lieutenant Dan seems to accept his new life and his new body, and he lets his bitterness, his security blanket, drift away. Gump states that he thinks Lieutenant Dan finally made his peace with God (1:38:16) Personally, I think he actually made peace with himself.
This movie did deal with a lot of themes similar to those we have seen in other texts in this class. The film dealt with themes such as death, carnage, experiencing new and unusual lands, and coping with life after the war. But this film took a different spin on the last one. Instead of having to cope with what he had lost, Lieutenant Dan had to cope with what he hadn’t lost; his life. Had he lost his life, he would have served the purpose he felt he was destined to serve. When that was taken from him, he had to find a new purpose, and a new destiny, and a new, very different life. This journey took him a while.
The texts and films we have encountered during the course of this class have helped me gain new perspective on a film I have probably seen over 20 times. I have seen these same scenes time and time again, and yet I didn’t gain this insight until I had been given a better perspective of where the character was coming from. It’s truly amazing how one little grain of truth can eventually lead to a pearl of a revelation.

Friday, June 25, 2010

American War
A short story by Joanna Martodam


I’d never held a gun before; it was heavier than I’d expected. It felt cold in my hand, but not as cold as the sweat on my forehead.
“Are you ready?” He asked. I could tell he was pumped to be here, he had been waiting for this.
“No.” I replied with the little bit of voice I could muster. I was just supposed to drive the fucking car, remember? I thought. I didn’t have enough voice to say it out loud.
“I told you she was too pussy for this shit.” Preston laughed, that obnoxious smug little smirk on his face. “Lookit ‘er, she’s whiter than a ghost.”
“Screw you, Preston!” He was always giving me shit. “I can hold my own.”
“Just remember,” George lectured, “Keep it pointed to their head, but far enough from them that they can’t knock it out your hand. And no matter what happens, just be cool. Ready?”
I just told you, NO! “Yeah…”
“Let’s rock and roll!” I think Preston was as pumped as George was. For some reason they like this kind of shit.
“Hide that gun in the back of your jeans before you get out of the car.” George continued. “And stop fucking sweating!”
We walked up to the front door, and I tried to act normal. My hands were shaking so I tried shoving them in my pockets, but the gun pointed at my butt crack made the pockets too tight to fit in, so instead I’m just fumbling. Get your shit together! I tried to take a deep breath.
George knocked at the door and Tim answered. I was kind of sad. Tim was a pretty cool guy. He was a total hippie, a true hippie, with a long white braid and tats on his arm from when he was in Vietnam. Whenever I was out and needed a fix, he’d always help me out, even if it was just on front. And he never even tried to get anything out of me in return. I really didn’t want to do this to him, but I didn’t have a choice. I knew those guns tucked under George and Preston’s belts were pointed at me as much as they were about to be pointed at Tim. But I was a single white addicted female living on my own, and I needed a crew to protect me. It was either this or whoring, and I’m not a whore. Plus guys are less likely to bitch slap you when you’ve got a gun in your hand.
Hey dude, about time you showed up!” Tim seemed like he was almost giddy with excitement. “You’ve got to see this shit we just cooked. It’s bluer than the goddam Pacific Ocean.” I was looking around the room. It was a pretty big room, but the living space had been reduced to about the size of a large bathroom. The rest of the space was overflowing busted tools, computers and computer parts, old books, records, magazines, scrap parts, half digested bikes and partially consumed pizza. The smell from the cook was still strong. It smelled like a mixture of really nasty urine and oven cleaner that got sprayed into a hot oven. It was making my mouth water.
Sitting on a crate that was known to double as a chair was Tim’s wife, Sandy. She was a little younger that Tim, but just and gray and wrinkled and shriveled. She was busy cleaning her bong, I don’t think she even looked up. Across from her on the couch was Nate, another street tweeker, that’s about what I knew of him. He was probably a good 100 pounds bigger than me.
“Come on, sit down, I’ll load a bowl. Is that bong clean yet?” Tim asked his wife.
“Does it LOOK like it’s clean yet?” She snapped.
“Jesus Christ, you’ve only been cleanin’ it for four hours!” He chided as he walked into the other room. She grumbled something back under her breath but I couldn’t make it out. Tim walked back in with a loaded pipe. “Come on, sit down.” I sat next to Sandy on another crate-turned-chaise. “You got to try some before you buy it. This shit is KILLER!”
Halleluiah! I screamed in my head. The one thing that could help me right now. Some smokable courage, then I can do this.
“Ladies first,” Tim handed me the pipe. His wife seemed a little insulted. I lit the flame and held it under that beautiful bluish white pile of crystal happiness. I watched it melt, then blew off the cut. Then I took a crazy hit. The plume of smoke was so white and thick it enveloped me. It caught the back of my throat at the end and made me gag. But the hair started to stand up on the back of my head, then the goosebumps, then that warm-cold energy hit the back of my spine and sent shivers throughout me. I can feel my eyes are wider, and my mouth is watering like crazy. I take another ginormous hit. Smurf dope was always the best. Now I’m ready. Now I can do anything. I pass the pipe over to George, and it makes its way around the room. I could tell I wasn’t the only one impressed with the product. Tim hit it last.
“Damn,” He said, almost gagging at the same time.
“So how much of that shit you got?” Preston asked.
“Oh, probably a good three ounces, but it’s not all dry yet. How much you got money for?”
“All of it.”
Tim was obviously startled by this. Preston wasn’t the kind of guy to be walking around with $10,000 in his pocket. “You mean three grams?”
“Naw, you heard me, I want three ounces.”
“You know I don’t front.” Tim said.
Preston pulled out his gun and pointed it at Tim. “And you know I don’t bull shit.”
I saw Nate try and jump up, but George cut him off and pointed his gun at him. Game on. I pulled out my gun and pointed it at Sandy. I’d never seen a more surprised face.
“Now get the shit or she’ll blow your wife’s head off.” Just like Preston to put me on the spot like that. Tim hesitated for a minute. Preston pushed the barrel of the gun into Tim’s forehead. “Now.”
“Okay! Jesus.” Tim turned and walked back into the other room, the gun now pressed to the back of his head. I just stood there, my hand, and the gun, shaking like a leaf.
“After everything we’ve done for you,” Sandy said through squinted eyes. “You fucking bitch.”
“Shut up Sandy!” George yelled. I couldn’t say anything. I suddenly didn’t feel high anymore. I thought I was going to puke.
Then I heard the shot. It was so loud it made me flinch. Preston ran out of the room holding his gun and a fat sack of dope, yelling “Go! Go! Go! Go.”
I ran out of that house like it was on fire. We jumped in the car and I think I even had it moving before George got all the way in.
I was already starting to cry, “You killed him? You fucking killed him?!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you dude!” George screamed.
“He went for his gun, what was I supposed to do?” But his eyes were ablaze and he was obviously exhilarated. I think Preston had just found his niche. The tear in my eyes are making it hard to drive, but we make it back to the apartment.
We went inside and smoked out. I tried to get the drugs to make me stop thinking about Tim, but it wasn’t working. My eyes were still tearing up.
“Come on, get over it.” Preston sighed.
“Fuck you.” I said, my voice breaking more than I’d wanted. “He was a friend. He was nice to me. The man fought in Vietnam, for Christ’s sake, he fought a war, and for what, to have some punk kids cap him for trying to sell ‘em some shit? You said we were going to rob him, not kill him!”
“What, you don’t think we’re at war?” Preston asked, “Doesn’t this look like war to you? We fight every day to get what we need to make it, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get what we need to make it. Don’t kid yourself, girlie, you’re smack-dab right in the middle of a war.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, “And what side are we on?”
Preston took a hit, exhaled, then smiled, that same obnoxious, smug little smirk that always annoyed the crap out of me. “Well,” he said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m on the winning side.”