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The Self in the World the Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems Essay Example

The Self in the World: the Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems Essay The Self in the World: The Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems, [(essay date 1980) In the accompanying paper, Annas offers investigation of depersonalization in Plaths verse which, as indicated by Annas, exemplifies Plaths reaction to abusive current society and her double awareness of self as both subject and article. ] For doubtlessly it is time that the impact of disencouragement upon the brain of the craftsman ought to be estimated, as I have seen a dairy organization measure the impact of conventional milk and Grade A milk upon the body of the rodent. They set two rodents in confines one next to the other, and of the two one was quick, tentative and little, and the other was gleaming, striking and enormous. Presently what food do we feed ladies as specialists upon? Virginia Woolf, A Room of Ones Own The argumentative strain among self and world is the area of significance in Sylvia Plaths late sonnets. Portrayed by a contention among balance and development, separation and commitment, these sonnets are to a great extent about what holds up traffic of the chance of resurrection for oneself. In Totem, she composes: There is no end, just bags/Out of which a similar self unfurls like a suit/Bald and glossy, with pockets of wishes/Notions and tickets, shortcircuits and collapsing mirrors. While in the early sonnets oneself was frequently imaged as far as its own opportunities for change, in the post-Colossus sonnets oneself is all the more regularly observed as caught inside a shut cycle. One movesbut just around and ceaselessly back to a similar beginning stage. As opposed to oneself and the world, the Ariel sonnets record the self on the planet. We will compose a custom article test on The Self in the World: the Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems explicitly for you for just $16.38 $13.9/page Request now We will compose a custom exposition test on The Self in the World: the Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems explicitly for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Recruit Writer We will compose a custom paper test on The Self in the World: the Social Context of Sylvia Plaths Late Poems explicitly for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Recruit Writer Oneself can change and create, change and be reawakened, just if the world in which it exists does; the conceivable outcomes of oneself are personally and inseparably bound up with those of the world. Sylvia Plaths feeling of ensnarement, her feeling that her decisions are significantly restricted, is legitimately associated with the specific time and spot where she kept in touch with her verse. Betty Friedan portrays the late fifties and mid sixties for American ladies as an agreeable fixation campphysically sumptuous, intellectually harsh and devastated. The common representations of discontinuity and reificationthe reflection of the individualin Plaths late verse are socially and generally based. They are pictures of Nazi inhumane imprisonments, of fire and bombs through the rooftop (The Applicant), of guns, of trains, of wars, wars, wars (Daddy). Also, they are pictures of kitchens, coolers, calculators, typewriters, and the depersonalization of medical clinics. The ocean and the moon are as yet significant pictures for Plath, however in the Ariel sonnets they have taken on a harsher quality. The moon, additionally, is pitiless, she writes in Elm. While an agonizingly intense feeling of the depersonalization and discontinuity of 1950s America is normal for Ariel, three sonnets depict especially well the social scene inside which the I of Sylvia Plaths sonnets is caught: The Applicant, Cut, and The Munich Mannequins. The Applicant is expressly a representation of marriage in contemporary Western culture. Be that as it may, the roman ce and wedding in the sonnet speak to male/female relations however human relations when all is said in done. That activity looking for is the focal analogy in The Applicant recommends a nearby association between the entrepreneur monetary framework, the male centric family structure, and the general depersonalization of human relations. Some way or another all connection among individuals, and particularly that among people, given the historical backdrop of the utilization of ladies as things of bargain, appears to be here to be molded by the philosophy of a bureaucratized commercial center. Anyway this framework began, the two people are ensnared in its propagation. As in a considerable lot of Plaths sonnets, one feels in perusing The Applicant that Plath sees herself and her imaged personae as not just got invictims ofthis circumstance, however in some sense at fault too. In The Applicant, the artist is talking straightforwardly to the peruser, tended to as you all through. We also are ensnared, for we also are potential candidates. Individuals are portrayed as disabled and as eviscerated bits of bodies in the main verse of The Applicant. In this way symbolism of dehumanization starts the sonnet. Besides, the pieces depicted here are not tissue, however a glass eye, dentures or a support,/A support or a snare,/Rubber bosoms or an elastic groin. We are as of now so engaged with a sterile and machine-ruled culture that we are likely part curio and sterile ourselves. One is helped not exclusively to remember the symbolism of other Plath sonnets, yet additionally of the controlling illustration of Ken Keseys One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest, composed at about a similar time as The Applicantin 1962, and Chief Bromdens conviction that those individuals who are incorporated into society are only assortments of haggles, littler copies of an easily working bigger social machine. The ward is an industrial facility for the Combine, Bromden thinks. Something that came all curved diverse is currently a working, balanced segment, an a good representative for the entire outfit and a wonder to view. Watch him sliding over the land with a welded smile . . . In verse two of The Applicant, Plath depicts the vacancy which portrays the candidate and which is a variation on the roboticized movement of Keseys Adjusted Man. Are there lines to show somethings missing? she inquires. The candidates hand is unfilled, so she gives a hand To fill it and ready To bring teacups and roll away cerebral pains And do whatever you reveal to it Will you wed it? All through the sonnet, individuals are discussed as parts and surfaces. The suit presented in verse three is in any event as alive as the empty man and mechanical doll lady of the sonnet. Actually, the suit, an ancient rarity, has more substance and unquestionably more toughness than the individual to whom it is offered in marriage. At last, it is the suit which offers shape to the candidate where before he was indistinguishable, a garbage stack of divided parts. I notice you are obvious bare. What about this suit Black and firm, however not a terrible fit. Will you wed it? It is waterproof, shatterproof, confirmation Against fire and bombs through the rooftop. Trust me, theyll cover you in it. The man in the sonnet is at long last characterized by the dark suit he puts on, yet the meaning of the lady demonstrates her to be considerably increasingly distanced and dehumanized. While the man is a garbage stack of different parts given shape by a suit of garments, the lady is a breeze up toy, a manikin of that dark suit. She doesnt even exist except if the dark suit needs and wills her to. Will you wed it? It is ensured To thumb shut your eyes toward the end And break up of distress. We make new stock from the salt. The lady in the sonnet is alluded to as it. Like the man, she has no independence, yet where his suit gives him structure, representing the job he plays in a bureaucratic culture, for the work he does, the main thing that gives the lady structure is the organization of marriage. She doesn't exist before it and breaks up again into nothingness after it. In The Applicant there is in any event a ramifications that something exists underneath the keeps an eye on dark s uit; that anyway divided he will be, he in any event weds the suit and he at any rate has a decision. Conversely, the lady is the job she plays; she doesn't exist separated from it. Stripped as paper to begin, Plath composes, But in a quarter century shell be silver, In fifty, gold. A living doll, wherever you look. It can sew, it can cook. It can talk, talk, talk. The man, the kind of a standard issue partnership junior official, is additionally estranged. He has opportunity of decision just in contrast with the substantially more restricted circumstance of the lady. In other words, he has relative opportunity of decision in direct extent to his job as perceived laborer in the monetary structure of his general public. This ought not infer, in any case, that this man is in any sort of fulfilling and significant connection to his work. The accentuation in The Applicant upon the keeps an eye on surfacehis dark suittogether with the initial inquiry of the sonnet (First, would you say you are our kind of individual? ) proposes that even his relationship to his work won't be in any sense immediate or fulfilling. It will be sifted first through the suit of garments, at that point through the glass eye and elastic groin before it can arrive at the genuine individual, expecting there is anything left of him. The lady in the sonnet is viewed as a member; she works, yet she works in a domain outside socially perceived work. She works for the man operating at a profit suit. She is viewed as reaching the world just with the help of the man, who is as of now twice expelled. This buffering impact is exacerbated by the way that the man is presumably not occupied with work that would permit him to feel a relationship to the result of his work. He is likely a civil servant or some likeness thereof, and in this way his relationship is to bits of paper, progressive and divided ideal models of the item (whatever it is, chamberpots or wooden tables) instead of to the item itself. Furthermore, obviously, the more cradled the man is, the more supported the lady is, for it could be said her genuine relationship to the universe of work is that of customer instead of maker. Accordingly, her lone relationship to socially satisfactory productionas contradicted to consumptionis through the man. In another sense, be that as it may, the lady isn't a consum

The Host Chapter 17: Visited

The warmth hit me first-like a mass of steam, the soggy, thick air turned over me and dewed on my skin. My mouth opened naturally as I attempted to pull a breath from the unexpectedly denser air. The smell was more grounded than before-that equivalent metallic tang that clung in my throat and enhanced the water here. The mumbling jibber jabber of bass and soprano voices appeared to issue from each side, reverberating off the dividers. I squinted restlessly through the whirling haze of dampness, attempting to make out where the voices originated from. It was splendid here-the roof was astonishing, as in the large room however a lot nearer. The light moved off the fume, making a gleaming shade that nearly blinded me. My eyes attempted to alter, and I gripped at Jeb's submit alarm. I was astounded that the abnormally liquid jibber jabber didn't react in any capacity to our passage. Maybe they couldn't see us yet, either. â€Å"It's somewhat close in here,† Jeb said contritely, fanning at the steam before his face. His voice was loose, conversational in tone, and sufficiently uproarious to make me hop. He talked as though we were not encircled. What's more, the prattle proceeded, unmindful of his voice. â€Å"Not that I'm complaining,† he proceeded. â€Å"I'd be dead a few times over if this spot didn't exist. The absolute first time I stalled out in the caverns, obviously. Furthermore, presently, we'd always be unable to hang over here without it. With no concealing spot, we're all dead, right?† He prodded me with his elbow, a conspiratorial motion. â€Å"Mighty helpful, how it's spread out. Couldn't have arranged it much better in the event that I'd etched it myself out of play dough.† His chuckle freed a segment from fog, and I saw the space just because. Two streams moved through the moist, high-domed space. This was the prattle that filled my ears-the water spouting over and under the purple volcanic stone. Jeb talked as though we were distant from everyone else in light of the fact that we were. It was extremely just a single waterway and one little stream. The stream was nearest; a shallow interlaced lace of silver in the light from above, flowing between low stone banks that it appeared to be continually at risk for invading. A female, sharp mumble murmured from its delicate waves. The male, bass murmur originated from the waterway, as did the thick billows of fume that rose from the vast openings in the ground by the far divider. The waterway was dark, lowered under the floor of the sinkhole, uncovered by wide, round disintegrations along the length of the room. The openings looked dim and risky, the waterway scarcely noticeable as it hurried capably toward an imperceptible and incredible goal. The water appeared to stew, such was the warmth and steam it delivered. Its sound, as well, resembled that of bubbling water. From the roof hung a couple of long, restricted stalactites, trickling toward the stalagmites underneath every one. Three of them had met, shaping slender dark columns between the two assemblages of streaming water. â€Å"Got to be cautious in here,† Jeb said. â€Å"Quite a current in the underground aquifer. On the off chance that you fall in, you're gone. Happened once before.† He bowed his head at the memory, his face calm. The quick dark vortexes of the underground stream were out of nowhere frightful to me. I envisioned being trapped in their burning current and shivered. Jeb put his hand daintily on my shoulder. â€Å"Don't stress. Simply tread carefully and you'll be fine. Now,† he stated, highlighting the furthest finish of the sinkhole, where the shallow stream ran into a dim cavern, â€Å"the first cavern back there is the washing room. We've uncovered the floor to make a decent, profound tub. There's a calendar for cleaning up, yet protection's not normally an issue-it's dark as pitch. The room's overall quite warm so near the steam, however the water won't consume you like the natural aquifer here. There's another cavern simply past that one, through a hole. We've broadened the passageway up to an agreeable size. That room is the most distant we can follow the stream-it drops underground there. So we have that room repaired as the restroom. Advantageous and sanitary.† His voice had expected a self-satisfied tone, as though he felt credit was because of him for nature's manifestations. Indeed, he had found and improved the spot I g uessed some pride was legitimized. â€Å"We don't prefer to squander batteries, and the majority of us know the floor here by heart, yet since it's your first time, you can discover your way with this.† Jeb pulled an electric lamp from his pocket and held it out. Seeing it helped me to remember the second he'd discovered me kicking the bucket in the desert, when he'd checked my eyes and realized what I was. I didn't have the foggiest idea why the memory made me miserable. â€Å"Don't get any insane thoughts regarding possibly the waterway removing you from here or something. When that water goes underground, it doesn't return up,† he forewarned me. Since he was by all accounts hanging tight for some affirmation of his notice, I gestured once. I took the electric lamp from his hand gradually, being mindful so as not to make any fast developments that may surprise him. He grinned in consolation. I followed his headings rapidly the sound of the hurrying water was not making my distress any simpler to hold up under. It felt extremely weird to be out of his sight. Imagine a scenario where somebody had covered up in these caverns, speculating I would need to come here in the long run. Would Jeb hear the battle over the dissonance of the waterways? I shone the electric lamp all around the washing room, searching for any indication of a snare. The odd flashing shadows it made were not soothing, yet I found no substance to my feelings of dread. Jeb's tub was more the size of a little pool and dark as ink. Under the surface, an individual would be imperceptible as long as they could hold their breath†¦ I rushed through the thin split at the rear of the space to escape my imaginings. Away from Jeb, I was about overpowered with alarm I was unable to inhale typically; I could scarcely hear over the sound of my heartbeat hustling behind my ears. I was more running than strolling when I advanced back to the live with the waterways. To discover Jeb remaining there, still in a similar posture, still alone, resembled an ointment to my fragmented nerves. My breathing and my pulse eased back. Why this insane human ought to be such a solace to me, I was unable to comprehend. I guessed it resembled Melanie had stated, urgent occasions. â€Å"Not excessively pitiful, eh?† he solicited, a smile of pride all over. I gestured indeed and restored the electric lamp. â€Å"These caverns are an extraordinary gift,† he said as we began back toward the dull way. â€Å"We wouldn't have the option to get by in a gathering like this without them. Magnolia and Sharon were getting along genuine well-amazingly well-up there in Chicago, yet they were risking a lot concealing two. It's relentless ideal to have a network once more. Causes me to feel absolute human.† He took my elbow again as we climbed the harsh step case out. â€Å"I'm sorry about the, um, lodging we have you in. It was the most secure spot I could consider. I'm amazed those young men discovered you as fast as they did.† Jeb murmured. â€Å"Well, Kyle gets real†¦ inspired. In any case, I guess it's everything generally advantageous. Should become acclimated to how things will be. Perhaps we can discover something increasingly friendly for you. I'll think on it†¦ While I'm with you, at any rate, you don't generally need to pack yourself into that little gap. You can sit in the corridor with me on the off chance that you like. In spite of the fact that with Jared†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He trailed off. I tuned in to his sorry words in wonder; this was a great deal more graciousness than I'd sought after, more sympathy than I'd suspected this species was equipped for giving their adversaries. I praised the hand on my elbow delicately, reluctantly, attempting to pass on that I comprehended and wouldn't cause an issue. I was certain Jared very much wanted to have me far out. Jeb experienced no difficulty interpreting my silent correspondence. â€Å"That's a decent girl,† he said. â€Å"We'll make sense of this all in some way or another. Doc can simply focus on healin' human people. You're substantially more intriguing alive, I think.† Our bodies were close enough that he had the option to feel me tremble. â€Å"Don't stress. Doc won't trouble you now.† I was unable to quit shuddering. Jeb could just guarantee me now. There was no assurance that Jared would not choose my mystery was a higher priority than ensuring Melanie's body. I realized that such a destiny would make me wish Ian had succeeded the previous evening. I gulped, feeling the wounding that appeared to go completely through my neck to within dividers of my throat. No one can tell how much time you'll have, Melanie had said such a significant number of days prior, when my reality was still leveled out. Her words reverberated in my mind as we reappeared the large room, the principle square of Jeb's human network. It was full, similar to the primary night, everybody there to scowl at us with eyes that blasted indignation and treachery when they took a gander at him and murder when they took a gander at me. I held my look down on the stone under my feet. From the side of my eye, I could see that Jeb held his weapon prepared once more. It was inevitable, for sure. I could feel it in the climate of despise and dread. Jeb couldn't secure me long. It was an alleviation to scratch back through the limited fissure, to anticipate the winding dark maze and my confined concealing spot; I could would like to be distant from everyone else there. Behind me, an angry murmuring, similar to a home of urged snakes, resounded in the huge natural hollow. The sound made me wish Jeb would lead me through the maze at a snappier pace. Jeb laughed softly. He appeared to get more interesting the more I was around him. His comical inclination perplexed me as much as his inspirations did. â€Å"It gets somewhat dreary down here some of the time, you know,† he mumbled to me, or to himself. With Jeb, it was difficult to tell. â€Å"Maybe when they get over being cheesed off at me, they'll understand they value all the fervor I'm providing.† Our way through the dim bent in a serpentine manner. It didn't feel at all famili

rap kills the brain essays

rap executes the cerebrum expositions Awesome MUSIC AND RAP MUSIC IS SUPPOSED TO DESTROY THE MIND A thought accepted by numerous individuals is that music significantly affects the manner in which individuals think. Proficient therapists state that the verses utilized in music today has a conditioning impact. This conditioning impact should cause the audience to turn out to be so overpowered with the verses of the melody, that the individual feels that they need to follow up on what was heard. Follow up on what they heard methods, that they do what the music instructs them to do. Regardless of whether whatever they do is acknowledged or not, the music didn't make this happen. At the point when we find out about this impact music has, we promptly consider negative impacts. It is entirely expected to accept that the sort of music that gives unsatisfactory substance is rap (hip-bounce) music, or jammin (head-banger) music. The explanation individuals have this assumption is rap and jammin both have a notorieties of having or utilizing unseemly verses. With the two kinds of music you will in general hear foulness, specialists who corrupt ladies, and discussion contrarily about others. At the point when individuals tune in to either sort of music over some stretch of time, they should have the inclination that they have to do what these improper verses state or do. Saying music has the ability to control individuals is somewhat extraordinary. That resembles saying that we people have no duty regarding our activities. It is reasonable that a few people are foul, and, they do foul things. Utilizing rap music and awesome music as a substitute isn't right. At the point when we do tune in to either rap or exciting music, we hear verses that are upsetting to hear, for certain individuals. Normally the craftsmen are talking about things that transpired or about things that they are straightforwardly engaged with. As a rule, they are making an effort not to backer such activity. They are attempting to stop what they are talking about or make it known to audience members, to what is really happening where they live or where they ... <!

Houston-area Suburbia kid Makes Trek to MIT Campus Preview Weekend with Mother

Houston-area Suburbia kid Makes Trek to MIT Campus Preview Weekend with Mother Hello everyone, prospectives for the coming years and prefrosh alike: Picture this headline: Houston-area Suburbia kid Makes Trek to MIT Campus Preview Weekend with Mother This is his story. So yeah, I had decided about MIT the instant I got my acceptance letter (deferred, got in regular Woohoo!) or shortly thereafter. After talking over all the awesome reasons that I wanted to go MIT even over the other prestigious institutions Id been accepted to (awesome engineering schools in NYC, Pittsburgh, and Houston you figure it out), I proceeded from the hotel I stayed at Wed. night to CPW registration. I was delighted to find Matt Mcgann and Ben Jones waiting at the table for me and any other prefrosh. No matter, I was on a mission. Since Matt Mcgann was occupied on the phone at the moment, I talked to Ben Jones. I proceeded to ask if the admissions office was still open so that I could give them my MIT Reply Form, and wait, couldnt I just give it to him, would he take it? Now??? Why yes, Ben congenially and ecstatically answered. Thats awesome! I guess we dont have to work on you this weekend. Well, right he was. When Matt Mcgann saw my awesome nerd-tastic Calculus shirt (Coke ripoff, said enjoy calculus, check Friday Liveblog), I knew that MIT was the place for me. Now to explore. I started off by battling the cold/raining/sleeting weather that outright broke my subpar Houston umbrella. (It had worked for going on 8 years in Houston and didnt stand one day in Boston, go figure). So, there I was with the better half of my umbrella that tried to fly away on a quest to Random Hall, where the was word of Truffle-making. When I finally got there after what should have been little more than a 5 minute walk I was glad to find a warm place to dry off. I met some fairly cool people there, but it was a little intimidating after hearing about all the insane crazy acamedic feats that my peers had conquered. I couldnt help asking myself if I was really intelligent enough to go to MIT. But Marilee Jones never makes mistakes, rightRight??? I was however, meant to find some more awesome people that spoke less of academia and were willing to listen to whatever random story came to my mind while waiting to play 3D twister, which was awesome. I have to admit the resident Randomites (people living at Random House) were a little, well, random, but very cool and welcoming. I started to feel a bit better. The weekend went on as I struggled to find stuff to do. Solace came in the form of a very pretty asian girl who will probably go to Harvard, despite CPW awesomeness (Oh well) Some of her friends and I hung out that night and even attended some parties that night. Parties??? You may be thinking. at MIT??! Yeah, I was pretty surprised to. But there was enough loud music energy drinks and dancing to go around. I tried to talk to a bunch of different people and met some pretty cool people at Skull House, and even some Boston University Undergrads that claimed, Oh yeah, MIT has the best parties. We love coming here because MIT totally has the best looking guys. Hark, could this mean great things in Kevin Rustagis future. I would endeavor to believe so. So yeah, went back to Next House, which was cool but very far from the center of campus to sleep. Of course not until after talking to my host Andrew Bishara until 4 AM about random stuff, including the arcade project that my friends and I worked on in January. He gave me some comfort that classes were difficult but not impossible. Oh yeah, and Marilee Jones opening statements were awesome. Some kids laughed when she exclaimed that there was a high tolerance for failure. Her statements about how MIT encourages invention, creation, and freethinking made my head spin with excitement for the oncoming 4 years. The Logs, one of MITs premiere a capella groups performed and that was awesome as well. The next day was important. I had goals to accomplish because so far I hadnt talked to anybody on the ski team or inquired about where to put my drumset and/or another arcade that my friends and I are building/overhauling/re-engineering this summer. My prospects brightened at the activities fair where I met the crew people who seemed to be almost too excited about the fact that I was over 6 foot and under 140 lbs. Yeah, dude, you dont need any athletic experience at all. Just put down your e-mail and height and weight. A little strange But I did find the ski people and they were very encouraging. I talked the team captain and after telling him my level of experience and expressing my zeal for the program he was very enthusiastic about my joining the team (Im not rich, I just have close family that live in Colorado). So that was cool. I also found out that if I had an idea for an activity while at MIT that all I had to do was write it up and MIT would probably throw some cash my way t o get it started. I also learned that there were several faith-based groups at MIT, which is cool b/c Ive been pretty involved with my church throughout high school. And I talked to the Logs who were totally into me trying out. (Im a drummer turned singer turned guitarist). And the dramashop said I didnt even have to take the class to submit my own One act play that they would put on (Its always been a dream of mine to write a play.) So Im thinking, awesome, Activities, Check! The Korean Karate Club even showed me how, and I did, break a board. Way cool.That day I also met this awesome girl, Allie, from Wisconsin and I hung out with her and some friends she made. We even had an opportunity to go on an underground tour of MIT, well just call it a Citrus tour to protect the innocent. The funny thing was a bunch of us were all just waiting there and I thought these crazy kids were hacking us. Allie and I saw a bunch of kids up on one of the balconies so we decided to role play I approach one of the guys and say, Haha we got those kids Hes like, who are you, and I told him something like Im Kevin didnt Jim tell you about me. The guy responds with, Are you a CALTECH student. I couldnt believe it. How crazy! This guy thought I was an outsider trying to hack them, when I thought he was hacking us prefrosh. Anyway it turned out to be just fine, though it ended early due to some searchlights on MITs Great dome I wonder w hat couldve happened This was cool though because it gave Allie and I a chance to check out this hot tub deal, which was awesome. A bunch of kids and I hung out there until the wee hours of the morning and they let us sleep in this fishing net that they had hung from the ceiling. (We also couldve slept in beds, but the fishing net was HUGE). Btw, the food was all free after Friday morning because all of the Frats across the river were hosting free meals. Of all of them, my favorites were Zeta Psi, and Skull House (cant remember the name) Allie and I walked back across the bridge 4 hours from the time when we went to sleep at Tep (A coed living group, also across the river) to take our first showers since arriving at MIT, Ewww! What can I say, we were living the college life. OK, so at this point in writing this Im pretty sure I mixed up the events of Friday and Saturday in the last two paragraphs, but you know what, I dont think it makes that much of a difference. Just know that the weekend was a blur (Woohoo! music reference) of awesomeness. So what I do know is that Eddie from Zeta Psi showed me around Zeta Psi later that night and they had some awesome stuff like artwork painted on the doors (theyre on campus and not a historical landmark like many of the Frats across the river) and even stadium seating built into one of the rooms. His like many other frats and some of the dorms had music rooms for me to put my drumset and speakers and guitar/amp respectively. (I totally want to have a rock band at MIT) and he even found the perfect place for my arcade that has a bajillion games on it. Before that of course, I had seen a few last awesome events, the closing remarks/ Logs performing and I got really wrecked at Texas Hold Em at one of the Frats. Which is wierd because Im from Texas, for Petes sake. That evening we went to see battle of the bands. It was pretty rad/throwed/insert synonym to awesome of your choice. Ben Jones band was awesome, as were the rest. And, I must explain something. In the south, when there is a point of uncertainty or potential encore, someone in the crowd yells out Freebird! in reference to the famous Lynyrd Skynyrd song, calling for its musical reiteration. Well, I was trying to teach this one girl from New York how to do it and when the opportune moment was, when I yelled it out before Marilee Jones came on stage. Some thought it was funny (either out of understanding or mere spontaneity) but she started singing You Cant Always Get What You Want and it all melted away as us and the Cartoony Beaver Mascot Tim swayed his arms to the music wit h us. He had also crowd surfed to a metal song earlier and that was by far one of the funniest and most surreal things I have ever witnessed in person. So the last band was a classic rock type band along the lines of Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) and they as the closer played their three songs and wondered aloud if they had more time. Two beats passed of silence and then without warning or planning or knowledge of each other me and two others yelled out the call for Freebird! I couldnt believe it! They had sensed it too. The perfect moment. Well, the band played a half-done rendition of Sweet Home Alabama that I thoroughly enjoyed (They kind of accidentally repeated the 2nd verse instead of doing the 1st and 2nd, and they didnt really finish the song.) But otherwise I said my goodbyes at Zeta Psi later on and caught a cab at 1:30 AM back to my airport hotel in the interest of getting out early because of the oncoming storm. Well, if you have read this far, I must commend you for your dilligence, patience, and ginormously long attention span. And of course, as with a good pizza, I always save the best for last, So I will leave you with this thought that Allie McKenzie 11 shared with before the Battle of the Bands. Take it as you will, it is not meant to offend anyone but is merely poking fun at the general quirkiness that I appreciate and love in MIT students. And Bryan, if you do, thank you for publishing this pearl of wisdom. At MIT, so far as relationships go, this statement mostly rings true: The Odds are Good, but the Goods are Odd. What a lovely epanelepsis, at least I think thats what it is. So, with that I step out of the limelight, at least until next semester (mad scientist laugh). Thank you for listening. Please e-mail me @ [emailprotected] if you have any questions. And I am totally on facebook complete with pics of my crazy arcade project. Matt Mcgann: You gave a pinball machine to a nursing home? Lol. I love you all and will see you in the fall. hey, that rhymes. -Kevin.