Sometimes...

I feel like it's really hard to get over people engraved into my soul.

Though, I guess I should assume it'd be pretty hard.

/shrug

Handy Dandy URLs:

http://go.galegroup.com/ps/retrieve.do?sgHitCountType=None&sort=RELEVANCE&inPS=true&prodId=GVRL&userGroupName=ucsantacruz&tabID=T003&searchId=R1&resultListType=RESULT_LIST&contentSegment=&searchType=BasicSearchForm&currentPosition=1&contentSet=GALE|CX1837900204&&docId=GALE|CX1837900204&docType=GALE&role=

http://web.ebscohost.com/ehost/detail?vid=3&hid=119&sid=044bf946-6120-4502-b536-73cdedc6a889%40sessionmgr111&bdata=JnNpdGU9ZWhvc3QtbGl2ZQ%3d%3d#db=a9h&AN=49727211

http://eres.ucsc.edu/eres/docs/83337/pre2-bioe.80p-s10.pdf

Saving the TBWL List

...'cause I don't want it on the side of my page anymore... but I don't want to get rid of it

It goes here.

F I C T I O N:
Femme de Lumière; Homme d'Ombre; Enfant de Aube // the story I write in my head all day long, but never get around to typing

Are You Scared Yet? // Mashu & Calvin's Story ~ Tribute to my time in FFXI ~ gonna feature Magitek :]

Palm Trees and Streetlights // New idea based off of a childhood experience - no plot to this yet :( Gonna be something sci-fi... inspiration: Slaughterhouse 5... imagination needs to figure this one out still :P This one may be a tribute to the people from high school...

Behind That Corner // Why I hate the dark ~ Poe inspired

N O N F I C T I O N:
My Slug // The first heartbreak of college.

Marco // Change of life, inspiration

Music Store-Hopping // A great night out ~ friendship and bliss, acceptance

1, 2, 3, Pass // The first underwear party ~ friendship and bliss, acceptance

Kenny's 17th // Why drinking scares me & why Kenny is so important to me

I Punched a Bear in the Face // How I broke my hand ~ a lesson learned the hard way & fiction as a better truth

Pigeons and Lawnmower Races // My father as I know him

Growing Up "Poor" // a discussion of what "poor" is to me...

Anti-Sadness // Why I don't like gory films

Uneducated, Uncultured // why it fucking sucks

lol30H!3 // the simple pleasures

Dancing // why do I ask if people like to dance?

Pooping in Public // funny shit ~ why do people feel so damned awkward in the dorms?

The BJ // what society's take on this issue does to me

Hot Chocolate // simple pleasures

Dangerously Cute // Halloween costume discussion

Darlene's "Boy Voice" // what the fuck is a boy voice?

Bible Guys // what I think of those who ambush you in the name of God

How Would Humans Enter a Black Hole?// an astronomical discussion

Time Travel - Does it Only Go Forward? // another astronomical discussion

Fucking // why it is my favorite word

Purple // my color

Battle of the Bands // what I remember

Thanksgiving 2009 // Uncle Bryan's house

Thanksgiving 2009 // The party.

The Blanket Monster // oh, what a fun night!

The Almost-Orgy // o,o!

Return to CHS! // Teehee, I liked being a celebrity!

Mystery Google Creeper // haha

TokBox // good times

My 19th Birthday // OH SHIT, THAT WAS FUN!

Avatar! // OH SHIT, THAT WAS INTENSE.

Also: Matt Bellamy. Oh Matt Bellamy. XD ♥

printthis

http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1983/06/20/1983_06_20_032_TNY_CARDS_000341208

Persepolis - Porter Core '09

There's pictures that go with this paper, but too lazy to post them atm.

Darlene McCoy
Marco Martinez-Galarce
Porter 80A
12 November 2009
The Oversized Curtain of Mass Debate
Americans tend to be rather ignorant of other cultures around the world. Their ignorance is most apparent when they travel overseas to countries whose cultures are much different than American culture. A young American woman traveling to the middle-east to explore the lands may know nothing about her destination’s traditional values. She may commit an act that is offensive to the people of the land, and be completely unaware of why the people around her are offended. She may accidentally show excessive amounts of skin, shout a crude word, or simply, in the case of the country of Iran, not cover her body completely in an oversized curtain. If a police officer were to question her about her dress, what would she say? Why would the police officer be questioning her about her clothes, anyway?
In Iran, women can be arrested and whipped for not conforming to the dress codes set down by law. Since the punishment for not wearing the veil is so severe, the Islamic veil worn by Persian women has always been an extensively debated topic throughout the world. Iranian veils in particular give birth to some of the most heated arguments. These veils, better noted as hijabs, allow only a woman’s face to be seen – her hair is hidden beneath the drapes of cloth. They are accompanied by a giant shawl-like covering known as a chador. Chadors sheathe the shape of a woman’s figure and are typically black or dull in color. They cover all but the hands and ankles; however any type of decoration on those areas of uncovered skin is not permitted. Many women would be offended if asked to don this traditional form of Iranian dress, but there are those who would display their garb proudly. The hijab and chador call attention to the central question surrounding the Iranian dress code: is the veil a symbol of empowerment or a belittlement of the female gender? Through the art and story of Marjane Satrapi in Persepolis, aided with excerpts from Geraldine Brooks’ experiences in Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women, and Nafisi Azar’s reflections in Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books, many different revelations are realized about the issue of the veil. Therefore, there is no absolute answer to this furiously disputed question. There is no pattern as to why women choose to or choose not to wear the veil. The way a woman perceives the veil determines the condition it places upon her, and there are many points of view to be taken. A woman can look at the veil from a political, sociological, civil, religious, or individual standpoint. Hence, the symbolic meaning of the Iranian veil can only be determined by the woman exhibiting - or not exhibiting - the garments.
In Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis and Persepolis II the idea of the veil changes as Marjane matures. At first the veil is nothing but a mere toy that she and her friends play jump rope with, but in Persepolis II, Marjane redefines her feelings about the dark cloth she is forced to conceal her features in. Satrapi layers her graphic novel with much more than a “story of a childhood” and a “story of return.”
Politically, throughout Persepolis the veil is portrayed as a silencer and a conformer. Satrapi demonstrates these ideas through her artwork; a panel depicting school girls clothed in veils beating their chests in rhythm to mourn the dead reveals much more than the girls’ simple actions. The faces in the panel are all of confusion and worry. The girls learn through their daily mourning rituals that the war is not a joke: it is a thing that touches every person involved in the conflict; even if one is not physically present. The confused demeanor is caused by the fact that the girls are too young to understand what is taking place in the world: they are just simply conforming to the law of the land by wearing the veil. The girls are not allowed to ask questions, they must simply only do as they are told. They are depicted as one and the same, because they all dress in the same garb. Satrapi uses deep, dark bold lines and quite a bit of black to highlight the never-changing shape of the veil. According to Geraldine Brooks, the veil can also be perceived as a simple symbol of political affiliation. Women who don the veil because of a political view are “traditionalists”, while women who choose not to wear the veil are seen as “progressives” who welcome the new ideas of the western world. The traditionalists do not feel as if they are being muted by the veil, they instead view it as a way to express their pride in their government. Therefore, the veil is a symbol that is defined by perception.
Satrapi embedded her opinions of the veil from the sociological standpoint in Persepolis. Two panels of equal proportions illustrate what Marjane’s group of friends look like in society, and what her friends look like behind closed doors in the sanctuary known as home. The first panel paints all the women present in it in the same design. They are cloaked in their hijabs and chadors, and the only sense of individuality found in this image is the glasses on one of the young womens’ faces. Otherwise, they look to be one and the same, almost like clones of one another. Satrapi uses the same line thickness and color to further imply her message. All of the faces are drawn in a fashion so that telling the difference between one veil-donner and the next is quite the difficult task. In the panel painting Marjane’s friends out of the sight of society, the women are veil-less. Satrapi goes to great length to draw in the details of each person to show that each woman is just that – an individual, with her own physical shape, her own experiences, and her own thoughts. The lines she uses are still bold, but they are bold to separate each woman from the next. This juxtaposing of these images reveals a truth: in society, the veil eliminates the Iranian woman as an individual, as a self, and as a name. It accommodates her identity to simply “a woman.” Geraldine Brooks mentions in her novel a story of a woman whose public stature was so low that she was called by the name of one of her slaves. Her low status was an effect of the veil. She was pushed aside socially because she was seen as just another woman. Azar Nafisi describes two photos much like Satrapi does in Persepolis. In one photo, the young women of Nafisi’s secret literature study group are shown in their hijabs and chadors. In the next photo, because their concealing garb is removed, the women seem to come alive. The colors, textures, and patterns of their clothes shine through, and Nafisi is surprised at how much each one of the women depicted was her own individual. Another woman could recognize the veil as a symbol that unites her to Iran socially. It all depends on personal thought processes.
In Persepolis, Satrapi’s views on women’s civil rights in the Iranian world are discussed through her words. According to Brooks’ novel, the Koran urges both men and women to be modest about their dress, but only women are subjected to a dress code. Satrapi herself addresses this issue of women’s rights. In a panel she demands, “Why is it that I, as a woman, am expected to feel nothing when watching these men with their clothes sculpted on but they, as men, can get excited by two inches less of my head-scarf?” In Persepolis, the veil symbolizes the civil injustice served to the women of the Iranian culture. Brooks again provides additional support. In her Nine Parts of Desire she has an Iranian male friend that makes a comment of, “Even this government knows there’s a limit. You can ask a country to make many sacrifices, but expecting men to give up watching football would be pushing things too far.” Women in Iranian culture have to sacrifice comfort, a sense of individuality, and freedom for the sake of controlling man’s sexuality. They bear the integrity of Iranian men in their hijabs and chadors. Even though there are few – some women may not perceive the veil as a symbol of civil injustice. Some women’s thoughts are so petrified with fear of punishment by the government that they cannot comprehend the idea of their sacred garb being a degrading symbol to the entire gender. Perception is the eye opener of the world and every perception in the world is different. Every definition of the veil is different.
Religion plays a colossal role in Iranian culture, so it naturally plays a significant role in Persepolis. Marjane is constantly struggling with the idea of God. She casts him away after the execution of her beloved uncle Anoosh, only to reunite with the idea that a God does exist later in her life. The world she lives in is conducted according to scripture. Because the Islamic religion is betrothed to Iranian government, it is only natural for the government to set a dress code that coincides with the scriptures of Islam. Many women wear their veils proudly as a physical symbol of their devotion to their faith and country. The prophet Muhammad proclaimed the idea of curtaining women after he was involved in a scandal. Muhammad had walked in on his adopted son’s wife, Zeinab, and seen her beautiful body. His son then divorced Zeinab because he thought that Muhammad wanted to wed her. Muhammad’s marriage to Zeinab provoked a communal cry of disgust, but he settled the crowds with a new revelation: all adoptions were invalid, so Muhammad was not marrying his “son’s” wife. According to Muhammad, the hijab was necessary in a woman’s wardrobe because it would seclude women into a place where they would be free of scandal. Brooks unveils a quote in her text, “Tell the believing women to lower their gaze and be modest, and to display of their adornment only that which is apparent, and to draw their veils over their bosoms.” Religious interpretation created the veil – nowhere does this scripture demand that all hair be covered or the shape of a woman’s body is too tempting for normal men to handle. It only asks of women to be modest. The veil as a religious symbol is up for interpretation; therefore, each woman who chooses to wear it interprets the meaning in her own manner.
The sense of self the veil allows is another question Satrapi raises in Persepolis. A page in Persepolis I displays a scene at school between Marjane and the principal. The principal demands to see Marjane’s wrist to make sure there is not a bracelet decorating it. Marjane refuses, and accidentally strikes the principal. Satrapi shows us through the darkness and flowing inhuman shape of the principal’s clothing that she has no sense of individuality. She has been conformed through society through the use of the veil. The veil muffles any individuality – it does not allow women to express their personalities through colors, prints, or cuts of clothing. She cannot wear makeup or jewelry. A woman does not only express her personality through the garments she wears, but the clothes and accessories a person wears do aid in the expression of self. Some women see the veil as a united symbol of individuality. Iranian women who dress in the hijab and chador have something in common, but they stand out against the rest of the world. A woman’s personal viewpoint is the only way to define the veil.
The women of Iran do not wear the veil for mere protection from the sun. They wear their veils for many different reasons, but those reasons depend on the woman donning the veil. Because the women perceive the veil differently, if asked, “Why do you wear the veil?” Each woman, providing she is speaking from her heart, will have a different answer. The Iranian veil as a symbol can be interpreted in such numerous different regards that it is a symbol defined only by perception.
The young American woman would turn around sharply and proclaim to that police officer, “Darlin’, I’m not Islamic. I don’t need to wear a covering over my face! My face is beautiful, and I’d like to show those good-lookin’ fellas over there just how good it looks up close.” She’d pause for a moment, to catch her breath and run a hand through strands of golden blond hair, “Listen dear: I’m sorry to offend you, but the only legit reason I see for wearing that boring cloth is to show devotion to Islam. Since my devotion to Islam is nein, my devotion to making myself appear less-attractive is nein. That’s just how it is – but if you cannot control your sexual urges, I’ll put on a veil. It’ll be a symbol of yours and the rest of man’s weakness. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get to business with those fine young gentlemen. There’s a beach over yonder hill and I am down for some good old fashioned fun in the sun.” The police officer would raise an eyebrow, scratch his head, and then mutter under his breath, “Damn Americans.” He would let the young woman go on her way, and stagger away in silence and disbelief.

Halving the Bones - Porter Core '09

Darlene McCoy
Marco
Porter 80A
29 October 2009
Cinéma vérité
Vibrantly colored, helium-filled balloons and the joyous cracks of a $2 noisemaker engulf a dining room in the aura of “Happy Birthday!” as a little brother’s face is smashed mercilessly into a double chocolate cake. That same little brother’s mother whips out a disposable camera and exclaims, “Say cheese!” Later, the mother will develop her film, and paste the freshly recorded event into a family album. Will a single photo capture the essence of the occasion? Will it capture the smells, the sounds, the guests’ thoughts, and their laughter? Will it capture the little brother’s hidden agony and embarrassment amidst his smiles? How should she, and how should we, as a humanity, go about recording our families’ histories? Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury asks the same question of her viewers in the opening of her documentary: Halving the Bones. Coincidentally, Halving the Bones is Ozeki’s answer to her own question. In this film, she leads her viewers on a complex journey through her family’s past. She presents her grandmother’s “written autobiography” of her immigration to America, and then tells the tale of her mother, the cancer. Though this film seems to be a simple documentary of a Japanese immigrant and her offspring, Halving the Bones is entrenched with archival footage and ideas that simply do not match up. Even so, Halving the Bones is still a documentary – it just presents facts through fictional evidence, uses devices so blatantly that the viewer can see the device used and its effect, and thoroughly challenges the impression of reality. Halving the Bones is a reflexive documentary.
The general approach to making a documentary is to convey a message by enlightening viewers on a certain affair. In Halving the Bones, the surface affair in need of enlightenment is Ruth Lounsbury’s family’s history, but through the layers of her film, viewers can unveil the core affairs at hand. This is a film about the intertwinement of race and family. The surface layer begins with the tale of Ozeki’s grandmother: a Japanese girl of 18, Matsuye Ozeki, is sent to Hawaii to marry an American man she knows only by a picture. She is legally bound by a contract to wed this man, and cannot return home for any reason. She was a part of a group of girls, known as Picture Brides, who had no full method in determining if the man on the other side of the ocean even somewhat resembled the photograph the brides-to-be were given. Ozeki presents her first challenge to the impression of reality through the use of historical context. How could these girls trust a photograph enough to travel halfway across the world and marry? How could their fathers send them off like mere cattle? Photographs are not always what they seem to be. Reality is not always real. Some men of Hawaii sent false photographs of themselves to Japan, and when the girls discovered their new partner’s deceit, they could do nothing but try to make the best of their depressing situations. In time, Matsuye becomes acquainted with her photograph husband enough for her to “develop cancer of the stomach.” She then determines that a trip to a doctor’s office in Japan is necessary to cure her of her horrendous tumor. After her visit to the doctor’s office a startling revelation is revealed to Matsuye: the cancer she had developed was merely Masako Ozeki Lounsbury. After a few years’ stay in Japan, Matsuye returns to Hawaii, where she raises her first born. Why would Matsuye spend a few years in Japan when she has a life in Hawaii? Is it possible that Matsuye does not approve of her life in the US and played an innocent fool to return to her homeland and loved ones for a brief period of time? Ruth Ozeki presents us with a second challenge to reality: even a physical being might not be what it seems. A cancer of the stomach just might be the phenomenon known as pregnancy. Matsuye’s child, Masako, graduates from high school but afterwards, she “couldn’t find a job like the American girls.” America was in the midst of World War Two at the time, so why could Masako not find a job? Masako Ozeki was a Japanese girl, and Americans in Hawaii did not approve of those of the yellow peril. Japanese people were not worthy of trust, therefore they were not worthy enough to work for Americans. Due to her unsuccessful endeavors in America, Masako returns to Japan to expand on her education. She ventures back and forth between the two countries and ultimately receives a P.h.D. from Yale University. At last, Masako reaps her reward for all of her arduous work. Yet she forgoes her accomplishments to create a family with her husband. Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury is born. Why would anybody forsake years of grueling work? In traditional Japanese culture, the husband provides security to a family while the wife devotes herself to creating an overall atmosphere of peace and tranquility at home. Masako Ozeki is either an authentic traditional Japanese woman, or a woman who does not care for a P.h.D. Ruth Ozeki comes of age in a world that used to belittle anyone or anything that was Japanese. Why would she mention that Americans used to not approve of her and her culture in her narrative? Because of the past American stereotype of hating Japanese, as a child Ruth believed that to be an American she must think of Japanese products as “cheap and unwanted” and conceal her sense of pride. Through this mindset, Ruth Ozeki tears a rift in her family - she becomes disconnected with her mother due to her innate shame of casting off her heritage and the two women lead separate lives. That is, until Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury is confronted with the reality of her grandmother’s bones; a single connection between mother and daughter. Ozeki’s approach to this film is that of a filmmaker creating a reflexive documentary – there is a hidden message in between the lines of narrative, and she uses challenges to reality and her fiction to proclaim that message to all those who wish to examine it.
Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury employs the essence of documentary style, but challenges the foundation of the documentary genre by just manipulating the other modes of documentary’s methods. Throughout the film, there are scenes that are frequently desaturated, tinted, or edited in some sort of manner. The other modes of documentary do not contain images edited for color or tint; they are only being edited for the sake of picture quality or clarification. Premeditated camera shots align this film. In the other modes of documentary, all camera shots are taken as long drawn out processes so that the viewer can observe the action upfront and watch as it unfolds. The only perspective given is that of a single camera’s. Ozeki shoots footage of her mother preparing a turkey from outside her home to give a complete perspective of the activity. She shoots footage of herself arriving at her mother’s home from across the street. Her camera angles are blatantly shown to be premeditated. Ozeki uses excerpts of archival film as evidence to the facts she narrates. In the other modes of documentary, all of the footage is genuine - none of it is taken from anywhere but the filmmaker’s work. She takes her challenge a step further by employing actors to play some of the roles of her family members. There are no actors in any of the other modes of documentary, but they can be present in a reflexive documentary. All of the technicalities Ozeki uses are astonishingly obvious, and so are their effects. They are all in the style of a reflexive documentary. Multiple times in the film, Ozeki states, “I just made this up.” She undermines the foundation of her film – facts. She questions the documentary genre as a whole by making her viewers question her credibility as a narrator. Her narrative voice is split into three: an American voice, an American voice with a Japanese accent, and a Japanese voice. She undermines herself by using these multiple voices. It is unclear as to why there is a different voice narrating different sections of the film. The split voice only brings up more questions: If Ozeki cannot be trusted telling her own family’s story, how can trust between viewers and documentaries be established? Can reality be trusted? Even though Halving the Bones questions its own genre, and shakes its own foundation, factual information is delivered through the use of film, voice, camera angles, editing, and portrayed characters. It is a documentary.
The technique of assembly in this film is surprisingly more relatable to that of the more classic modes of documentary. Ruth conducts interviews with her mother much as any other director constructing a different mode of documentary would. She sets up her equipment, and starts an interview. Ruth leads her mother, Masako, into commenting on certain items that belonged to her mother, Matsuye. The only difference between Ruth’s interview and another mode of documentary’s interview is that Ruth’s interview pertains to her personally, and she takes part in the discussion as herself. She steps away from the camera to play her role. The filmmaker becomes part of the film in a reflexive documentary, whereas in the other modes of documentary, filmmakers generally have no personal connection to the action or dialogue. They are simply there to record happenings of the world. Candid scenes are not found in the alternative modes of documentary. They are found in Halving the Bones, but there is an authenticity in their falsehood. Masako Ozeki is a very well versed woman, but she acts as if she is a mere simple old lady on camera. She becomes excited by the beautiful coloring of the container that holds her mother’s bones and makes a sort of squealing noise in her amusement. Through her fake demeanor; she reveals that she is a reserved woman who does not take well to having her privacy invaded. Ruth’s narration is another element of her film that relates better to that of the contrasting modes of documentary than the other reflexive elements. Even though her voice is split into three, it is still there as a guide through the film. It serves its purpose in Halving the Bones as it would in a different mode of documentary. At its center, a reflexive documentary is a documentary.
The fact that Halving the Bones is an extremely abstract and complicated film affects the narrative. The viewers of such a film as this are much too lost or confused to look through the multiple layers. They are simply trying to piece together the main plot of the film. The messages that Ozeki wants to convey are not presented as profoundly as they could have been, but because of the extreme abstraction, another point is made: it is a formidable task to prepare a family album.
Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury has tried her best to preserve her family’s memories and history. She has attempted to preserve life with the best medium she could think of – film. She has created an elaborate mess of adventures, blended them together, and asked her viewers to unscramble them. She even goes as far as to layer in her feelings about how America has treated Japanese people. She layers in hidden relationships between her and her family members. She exposes her mother for who she is. She serves a double chocolate cake for the mind, and after the brain has processed every single morsel, a greater level of satisfaction is reached. Even if the cake is only chocolate on the surface and in all reality contains a vanilla center – even if the cake is a lie – at its very core of existence, it is still a cake. Even if she has constructed a documentary out of false information and a documentary that challenges reality and its own genre, there is a greater understanding of Ruth Ozeki Lounsbury. This is the point of documentary film, and this is why Halving the Bones is a documentary.

Angels in America - Porter Core '09

Darlene McCoy
Marco Martinez-Galarce
Porter 80A
12 November 2009
Je m’appelle Prior. Je parle la vérité.
Friends - those of the amazing sort, those who are genuine and true, those who watch meteors dart across the night sky together - are hard to come by in this day and age. These angelic friends, who are cherished above all others, could have just become even more difficult to come by - they could have just died. They could have just died slow, painful deaths from some unknown disease. They could have died in the tens of thousands, and their government could not have put nearly enough effort into stopping the deaths. Society could have shunned those wonderful friends. These things could have happened, however, the melancholy reality is that they did happen. In 1985, friends, family, and other loved people of America died from the disease known as AIDS. In 1985, the Reagan Administration deregulated the healthcare system - tax breaks and conservative views were more necessary and proper to America than the preservation of human life.
AIDS: the culprit of this mass human destruction, is formally known to the world as the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It is an illness that develops from HIV - a virus transmitted through bodily fluids such as blood or semen. HIV attacks the very backbone of the human immune system: Helper T Cells. A patient is said to have AIDS when their Helper T Cell count reaches dangerously low, or nonexistent, numbers. Without Helper T Cells, the immune system is not able to perform its reason for existence. It cannot ward off potentially fatal diseases. Those who are inflicted with AIDS usually die of a rare disease that was thought to be previously eradicated from the common spectrum of human life. This illness is most common among the populations of homosexuals, heroin addicts, hemophiliacs and Haitians (The Age of AIDS: Part One).
Tony Kushner's play, Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes, address the illness of America during the beginning times of the AIDS epidemic. Kushner makes use of the central theme of a sick body to reveal his more significant pieces of advice to humanity. He employs two different manners to convey his messages: a metaphorical approach, and within the text, a physical approach.
Kushner's first piece of advice begins with the statement that America is sick. The presidential era of Ronald Reagan was littered with concerns about federal spending and government expansion. Reagan promised the people of America that taxes would be lowered and that the economy was going to expand. Ronald Reagan was quite the conservative president, and his policies reflected his way of thinking. He cut funds to the health care system because he thought that private enterprise would progress the health care system’s economic market more efficiently than the federal funding would. This only caused the health care system to become deregulated, and that caused a reduction in the training and planning of medical personnel. He implemented the DRG system, which was a new approach to paying for medical services. The bill received by the patient would be for the whole cost of treatment for a certain diagnosis, instead of the cost of procedures and services actually given to the patient. This bill allowed physicians to be more comfortable in their practice. Reagan’s system controlled health care costs, but it did not do much for the people in terms of access to health care (Cost Concerns and Policy Changes from 1969-1992). Considering there was massive AIDS epidemic wrecking America during Reagan’s era, his policies were not the best idea for the times. A focus on access to health care might have been a better idea.
Ronald Reagan was a considerably conservative president, and the common population attributed his political ideas to that of conservative religions. The most common religion associated with conservative ideals is the Mormon religion. Mormons believe that homosexuals can choose between their lifestyle and being heterosexual much like they can choose to worship God or the devil. They believe simply that God is not “that way,” and that since man is made in the image of God, man should not be “that way.” Those who contracted AIDS were seen as people who had received “God’s judgment” for going against the idea of heterosexuality set in holy scriptures. Only "evil" people contracted HIV. Even less conservative religions, like the general American brand of Christianity, believe that sex is only justified by the creation of life. Since homosexual sex does not bring about life, it is not justified in the eyes of God (The Alyson Almanac). These conservative views were wide-spread throughout America during Reagan’s era and because of them homosexuals were discriminated against. They did not receive sufficient health care most of the time because of that discrimination. Some doctors would not see a homosexual patient, and some doctors may have performed sub-par procedures and services on a gay patient. Drugs to ease the pain of the disease were more difficult to come by because of the bias. Research for AIDS was not funded well because the conservative way of life did not care enough for other people to fund it sufficiently. On top of that, the health care system was rather inadequate at the time, so many people suffering from AIDS suffered much more than they should have. They suffered not only the physical pain of AIDS, but they suffered emotional pain through being abandoned by their loved ones and shunned by society. People died horrible, lonely, deaths in massive numbers, and President Reagan was only concerned with conserving funds and promoting economical growth. The immorality of the times was a force to be reckoned with. America during the Reagan era was a sick, sick body.
Roy Cohn, as portrayed in Angels in America, was a man of legends. He was the epitome of all negative ideas in the world. Roy Cohn bribed, flattered, and lied to near anybody or anything without any sense of guilt. He aided in the conviction of an innocent woman, Ethel Rosenburg, of treason by seducing a judge over the phone (Roy Cohn). Ethel Rosenburg was later executed for her “actions.” Roy Cohn was a man with no soul. He denied his own sexuality until the day he died, because admitting his sexual desires to the world would severely dampen his uncanny ability to blackmail others. He refused to accept the world for what it is; he believed he could change it using his power, so he was obsessed with maintaining that power. Roy Cohn was the purest form of an immoral being. He was, as Ton Kushner described him, "the polestar of human evil, he's like the worst human being who ever lived, he isn't humaneven, he's..." (Kushner 227) Roy Cohn was also a man with AIDS. The negatives of Roy’s past and personality come back to haunt him in the form of AIDS and the ghost of Ethel Rosenburg, who appears to torment Roy in his last days of life. Roy Cohn detests the hospital scene because in his eyes, it represents weakness. The hospital is a place where all physical power in the world is taken from a man. Relying on others for care and comfort is not an idea Roy Cohn takes easily to. He believes true strength can only come from being independent and relying on one’s self. He does not realize that all humans need to collaborate to better themselves. Roy Cohn’s body is too sick - too immoral - for the world, so it gives in and becomes part of another. Tony Kushner bestows Roy with this disease as a warning to humanity: immorality, if left unchecked, will be the end of all things. If all hell continued to progress in America, America would be the next body to collapse from sickness.
Tony Kushner delivers an ironically unforeseen message along with the creation of the character Norman Arriaga - or to his friends, Belize. Belize is Roy Cohn's primary caregiver when he is admitted with “liver cancer.” Belize is an angel in America. He is discriminated against in society, but that does not stop him from living his life with dignity and pride. He cares for every being that crosses his path, even the unpleasant beings, even Roy Cohn. Belize may abhor a person he is treating, but he will still treat them, and treat them well, because they are human, and all humans are interconnected. Belize's work goes mostly unnoticed throughout the play. He has three main relationships in the play: he is Roy Cohn's nurse, Louis Ironson's acquaintance, and Prior Walter's friend. Belize's relationship with Roy can be described as two immense and opposing forces of the world colliding. "Roy: Find the vein, you moron, don't start jabbing that goddamned spigot in my arm till you find the fucking vein or I'll sue you so bad they'll reposses your teeth you dim black motherf . . . Belize: Watch. Yourself. You don't talk that way to me when I'm holding something this sharp. Or I might slip and stick it in your heart. If you have a heart." (Kushner 157). The two more or less can only stand to be in the same room because Roy Cohn cannot physically stand, and Belize has so much self-control that he can still treat quite possibly the most offensive person on the planet. Belize and Louis' relationship can be seen as that of a teacher and a student who does not understand the concepts being taught. Time and time again throughout the play Belize and Louis collide, but Belize always goes back to try and help Louis, no matter how many times he offends him. Belize cares enough, even about the sad miserable spectacle that is Louis Ironson, to try and make him understand the concept of love. Neither Louis nor Roy ever thanks Belize once for his angelic deeds or character. The two are far too caught up in their own miserable lives to ponder, even for the slightest moment of time, the amazing character that Belize is. Not once in the play does another person deliberately acknowledge Belize’s angelic tendencies. Tony's message is now clear: the good of the world goes much unnoticed.
The key word is much- for there is one character in Angelsin Americawho understands how wonderful Belize is. Prior's relationship with Belize is that of a supreme friendship. Belize speaks to Prior in French, "the language of love," and Prior responds to him in French as well. The two only ever speak French when they address one another. No other character has the privilege of hearing "je t'aime" come from Prior Walter's lips. Though Prior never acknowledges Belize’s incredible caring for him directly in the text, he does so indirectly in his speech. Prior Walter is a prophet. He speaks the word of Tony Kushner. He is an honest man who stays true to himself, and who accepts the world for what it is. He is a homosexual and he is proud. Early in the play he informs his lover, Louis, of his disease. AIDS horrifies Louis, and he abandons Prior, which causes him great emotional pain and suffering. When Louis tries to return to Prior, he rejects the offer. Prior Walter believes in a true form of love – a mere disease cannot frighten one who is truly cares for another person away. While Prior is resting peacefully in bed, an angel comes to visit Prior, and she informs him, “I am here to make you a Prophet to the world. God has abandoned us in heaven so we need to stop life on Earth to find him once more. You are to tell the world that it is ending.” Prior rejects this task, and goes to heaven personally to correct the ways of the angels. He reveals to them, “We can’t just stop. We’re not rocks – progress, migration, motion is… modernity. It’s animate, it’s what living things do. We desire. Even if all we desire is stillness, it’s still desire for. Even if we go faster than we should. We can’t wait. And wait for what? God…” (Kushner 264). The world may be a dreadful place at times, but it always moves forward. Prior realizes that he wants to move forward with the world, because he is a part of it. He is addicted to life. The angels grant him his wish, and he returns to Earth. Though Prior denies his role of prophesy, he is still a prophet to the world. His new, and Tony Kushner's true, message is: accept the world for what it is, for it keeps spinning, and it only spins forward. Prior despises the hospital because it is the physical representation of the immorality of the world. People are sick and dying of an unknown disease and most doctors can only think of the sexual preference of the person who is sick, their paycheck, or some other trivial idea that should not matter in the least.
Emily is Prior’s nurse. She is an Italian-American woman who is generally so busy caring for people in the hospital that she hardly has time for many lines in the play. Emily’s character is played by the actor who additionally plays the role of the angel in Angels in America, so the angel can be inferred as Prior’s nurse. The angel takes care of Prior in the form of care he entirely needs - she tends to his broken heart. After Louis’ betrayal, Prior believes that life is over. Because Prior is such a pure man, the angel attempts to make him a prophet, and by doing so Prior realizes that the world only moves forward. He can move on without Louis, the world is not over. He can live with AIDS, the world is not over. This realization makes Prior want to continue living, and it makes him accept the world for what it is. The acceptance of the world is what convinces the angels to allow Prior to continue living life and deny the prophesy. Prior’s body may be sick, but his mind is not, so he can continue living in this world.
Though Prior Walter and Roy Cohn are complete opposites, they are bound by one thing: they both have AIDS. If two polarly opposite people can be connected, even in the slightest fashion, all humans must be intertwined somehow. If a single member of the human species falls ill to a disease, the others should come to his or her aid, even if for the mere sake of logic, if not for the sake of morality. A disease affects many more than those who physically have it. A disease affects every person, and ignoring those who are in need of aid because they are different in any superficial way is absolutely immoral and ignorant. Humans will deteriorate over time, like Roy Cohn’s body, if they do not take care of one another morally, physically, or spiritually.
Emily and Belize are the physical representations of angels on the Earth. These two act as a guiding light for Prior and Roy, yet Roy is far too ignorant to follow his guide, and his ignorance becomes the end of him. Prior follows the light, and he is rewarded with a satisfying life. Emily and Belize are both are powerless characters in society. The powerless of the world bear the burden of nurturing humanity’s sins.
Only those who are strong and true may survive in this world, because the world only moves forward. It does not wait for those who are faint of heart, and those who are faint will deteriorate over time, until the body that binds them together no longer exists.

Works Cited
The Age of AIDS: Part One. By William Cran and Renata Simone. FRONTLINE, 2006. DVD.
Alyson, Sasha, ed. The Alyson Almanac. Boston, Massachussetts: Alyson Publications, Inc, 1993. Print.
Ciment, James, ed. "Healthcare: Cost Concerns and Policy Changes From 1969-1991." Social Issues In America, An Enclycopedia. Vol. 4. Armonk, New York: M.E Sharpe Inc, 2006. 849-51. Print.
Ciment, James, ed. "HIV/AIDS: 1980s: Overcoming Fear and Denial." Social Issues In America, An Encyclopedia. Vol. 1. Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe Inc, 2006. 67. Print.
Kushner, Tony. Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes. New York, New York: Theatre Communications Group, Ice, 1995. Print.
"Roy Cohn." Porter Core Reader(2009). Print.

Going to Post Some Papers

frrrrrrrrrroooooooom Porter Core.

Enjoy!

Bad Paper #2 - Draft #3

not really different - think I'm only going to turn in two drafts

Lisette Mulvey would be a typical middle school student if she didn't have have to worry about getting prescription eye drops, about her scars, or the dead nerves in her face. She would be a typical middle school student if her father hadn't have broken her eye socket, nose, and mentally damaged her for life. She'd be normal if she didn't have to wear dark-purple tinted prescription glasses, and if her vision wasn't horribly clouded and blurred. She'd be just like everyone else at her tender age of thirteen years if she realized that her life is horribly void of a responsible, sane, parental figure. But, Lisette Mulvey is not a typical middle school student - she is the protagonist of Joyce Carol Oates' short story, ID.
Among her other issues, her parents are divorced, her mother goes out with whoever, whenever, and does whatever, without telling her daughter when or even if she will be returning, and her father is a figure existent only in her thoughts, because as far as she knows, he is a sergeant in the Army. Yet, somehow, this girl thinks that her life is not so terrible. She's more concerned about boys, her friends, and being "mature." In the story, these issues are the only ones that Lisette actually acknowledges. This poor being has far more problems than she cares to see, and Joyce litters her work with clues alluding to Lisette's additional unmentioned issues.
The first issue not directly addressed by Lisette is her rather lacking ability in determining character. Lisette is interested in a boy by the name of JC - a boy who has been held back for multiple years, so he is significantly older than the other students and therefore more likely to exploit a younger girl, a boy when asked if he had ever shot a person who just just shrugs and laughs, and a boy who the other students know as a person that “you didn't trifle with.” Lisette doesn't see the problems that could arise by trusting this boy - she only sees his "silky black hair falling across his forehead," but because Oates implements the other, more negative details, the reader is clued in on Lisette's fault.
The second issue that Lisette does not see, but the reader does, is the fact that her father has some severe problems with controlling his anger. She cannot see that the fact that her father "[was] shouting behind her, swiping with his fists - not meaning to hit her" as a complication in her life. She loves her father, and thinks that, "Daddy didn't mean to hurt me." Oates' descriptions of the event once again, clue the reader in on the true conditions of Lisette's life.
Lisette's mother is the central issue the entire story. She tells her daughter that she is a blackjack dealer at the Casino Royale. There are many clues that inform the reader that Lisette is not being told the truth about her mother's profession. Her mother has never given a direct answer to Lisette's questions about what she does for a living, and furthermore, her mother does not want her to wear lipstick, a common symbol of the desire to be sexual. Now - these two clues don't seem to be too significant in determining what Lisette's mother does for a living, but additional clues revealed at the climax of the story tie everything together. A dead woman is found in a drainage ditch outside of a sleazy motel -- not an uncommon place for a freshly slain hooker -- and Lisette is brought to a morgue to identify this woman. Lisette is shown a red jacket and a handbag, in which there is a wallet, in which there is an ID. The jacket, handbag, and wallet resemble garments owned by Lisette's mother, and the ID is revealed to be Yevette Muvley's. Lisette's mother is a dead prostitute. Yet, when even presented with her mother's dead mangled corpse, she cannot see that her life is horrible.
Lisette is blind, and Oates even alludes to her blindness in multiple ways. Glasses are a common symbol for needing aid with seeing correctly, and Lisette dons her glasses everyday, all day. Lisette also identifies people by their features, race, and sex. She does not once mention that she knows a person in her life by their personality. She is blind to characteristics that make people who they truly are. Additionally, Oates employs the color purple to identify negative things in Lisette's life. Lisette's lipstick is a luscious purple color, and Lisette's mother, in a flash back, leaves purple kiss marks all over her then husband, and even Lisette's glasses' lenses' are tinted purple.
Because this girl is so blind to the terrible circumstances of her life, she has the ability to deny her reality. And she does not deny this reality because she is a young girl, and therefore immature, she denies it because the denial of things that are detrimental in life was actively practiced by her mother. Lisette's mother knew who and what she was - but she told her daughter otherwise. She never admitted that she was a prostitute. She was a "blackjack dealer" at a "casino."
In the end, when Lisette is confronted with her mother's dead body, she cannot cope with the truth. She denies the truth again and again, telling herself that it is not possible, because her mother just simply cannot be the "thing" on the steel table. She instantaneously is taken to a bathroom, where she almost throws up. Almost - Lisette catches herself. That corpse was not her mother. She then demands to be taken back to her school, so she can continue living her life. She wants to see JC, and eat lunch. When she arrives, Lisette's friend Keisha inquires if she is “O.K.” to which she replies, while laughing into the “bright buzzing blur,” “Sure I'm O.K. Hell, why not?” She returns to the girl who knows only what she has seen, and she had not seen her mother earlier that morning. She continues to live in a daze, in denial, and blindly. She refuses to cope with the reality of her life. And that's the end of Joyce Carol Oates' tale.
Now, every work is created for a reason - whether for simple pleasure, or to teach a lesson, or some other reason. This work, ID, was written to make its readers think. It was written to make its readers think about the true circumstances of their own lives, and how they deal with them. Lisette's story is simply the means in which Oates uses to begin the train of thought.

Oates, Joyce Carol. "ID." The New Yorker 29 Mar. 2010: 80-88. Print.

Self-Assessment Questions:

What are the strengths of your writing? Which parts work well, and which parts work best?
-- Once again I feel as if my voice is my strong point. I also feel like this essay is a little more clear than the last I wrote. I don't really know, but I also feel like the fact that my character's life is so screwed up helps keep the reader interested. I also like my introduction, I feel that it would grab interest well.

What heights did you reach for? How much did you challenge yourself in this writing?
-- Again, I tried my best. I think I challenged myself to a degree that I am content with, considering ID was not very simple to analyze.

Which elements, devices, punctuation, or rhetorical effects from Gorrell did you use?
-- I feel like this paper again, uses dashes a lot, and alliteration (not nearly as much as the last!), and all the common things I do...

Which parts did you have trouble developing?
-- I had crazy amounts of trouble structuring this paper, and keeping my focus. I find it difficult to make and follow my own prompts. Hopefully the paper makes more sense now. :)

Which mental processes did you sue during the drafting?
-- I did a few outlines for this paper. One on paper, and another on my laptop, per draft.

How many hours did you spend on it? How did you allocate your time?
-- I spent a hefty amount of time on this paper because my second draft is almost a complete rewrite. I feel like the times when I worked the hardest were when I was figuring out what to write about and how to write about it. Once I had my structure and idea down it wasn't so bad.

Is there anything in particular you'd like me to attend to as I read?
-- I really like the phrase "freshly slain hooker." It makes me happy.

Whom would you acknowledge as helpers? Sources? Someone who gave you an idea? Peer edited?
-- This time, I wrote some of my paper in Porter's 5th floor lounge (which is full of my friends, among other people) and asked those who were present from time to time if what I was saying made sense, and I somewhat used them as a thesaurus. My peer editors also helped me quite a bit this time by simply telling me, "I don't get it. Can you explain this more?"

Bad Paper #2 - Draft #2

Lisette Mulvey would be a typical middle school student if she didn't have have to worry about getting prescription eye drops, about her scars, or the dead nerves in her face. She would be a typical middle school student if her father hadn't have broken her eye socket, nose, and mentally damaged her for life. She'd be normal if she didn't have to wear dark-purple tinted prescription glasses, and if her vision wasn't horribly clouded and blurred. She'd be just like everyone else at her tender age of thirteen years if she realized that her life is horribly void of a responsible, sane, parental figure. But, Lisette Mulvey is not a typical middle school student - she is the protagonist of Joyce Carol Oates' short story, ID.
Among her other issues, her parents are divorced, her mother goes out with whoever, whenever, and does whatever, without telling her daughter when or even if she will be returning, and her father is a figure existent only in her thoughts, because as far as she knows, he is a sergeant in the Army. Yet, somehow, this girl thinks that her life is not so terrible. She's more concerned about boys, her friends, and being "mature." In the story, these are the only things that Lisette actually acknowledges. This poor being has far more problems than she cares to see, and Joyce litters her work with clues alluding to Lisette's additional not mentioned issues.
The first issue not directly addressed by Lisette is her rather lacking ability in determining character. Lisette is interested in a boy by the name of JC - a boy who has been held back for multiple years, so he is significantly older than the other students and therefore more likely to exploit a younger girl, a boy when asked if he had ever shot a person who just just shrugs and laughs, and a boy who the other students know as a person that “you didn't trifle with.” Lisette doesn't see the issues with this boy - she only sees his "silky black hair falling across his forehead," but because Oates implements the other, more negative details, the reader is clued in on Lisette's fault.
The second issue that Lisette does not see, but the reader does, is the fact that her father has some problems with controlling his anger. She cannot see that the fact that her father "[was] shouting behind her, swiping with his fists - not meaning to hit her" as a complication in her life. She loves her father, and thinks that, "Daddy didn't mean to hurt me." Oates' descriptions of the event once again, clue the reader in on the true conditions of Lisette's life.
Lisette's mother is the central issue the entire story. She tells her daughter that she is a blackjack dealer at the Casino Royale. There are many clues that inform the reader that Lisette is not being told the truth about her mother's profession. Her mother has never given a direct answer to Lisette's questions about what she does for a living, and furthermore, her mother does not want her to wear lipstick, a common symbol of the desire to be sexual. Now - these two clues don't seem to be too significant in determining what Lisette's mother does for a living, but additional clues revealed at the climax of the story tie everything together. A dead woman is found in a drainage ditch outside of a sleazy motel -- not an uncommon place for a freshly slain hooker -- and Lisette is brought to a morgue to identify this woman. Lisette is shown a red jacket and a handbag, in which there is a wallet, in which there is an ID. The jacket, handbag, and wallet resemble garments owned by Lisette's mother, and the ID is revealed to be Yevette Muvley's. Lisette's mother is a dead prostitute. Yet, when even presented with her mother's dead mangled corpse, she cannot see that her life is horrible.
Lisette is blind, and Oates even alludes to her blindness in multiple ways. Glasses are a common symbol for needing aid with seeing correctly, and Lisette wears her glasses everyday, all day. Lisette also identifies people by their features, race, and sex. She does not once mention that she knows a person in her life by their personality. She is blind to characteristics that make people who they truly are. Additionally, Oates employs the color purple to identify negative things in Lisette's life. Lisette's lipstick is a luscious purple color, and Lisette's mother, in a flash back, leaves purple kiss marks all over her then husband, and even Lisette's glasses' lenses' are tinted purple.
Because this girl is so blind to the terrible circumstances of her life, she can deny her reality. And she does not deny this reality because she is a young girl, and therefore immature, she denies it because the denial of things that are detrimental in life was actively practiced by her mother. Lisette's mother knew who and what she was - but she told her daughter otherwise. She never admitted that she was a prostitute. She was a "blackjack dealer" at a "casino."
In the end, when Lisette is confronted with her mother's dead body, she cannot cope with the truth. She denies the truth again and again, telling herself that it is not possible, because her mother just simply cannot be the "thing" on the steel table. She instantaneously is taken to a bathroom, where she almost throws up. Almost - Lisette catches herself. That corpse was not her mother. She then demands to be taken back to her school, so she can continue living her life. She wants to see JC, and eat lunch. When she arrives, Lisette's friend Keisha inquires if she is “O.K.” to which she replies, while laughing into the “bright buzzing blur,” “Sure I'm O.K. Hell, why not?” She returns to the girl who knows only what she has seen, and she had not seen her mother earlier that morning. She continues to live in a daze. She refuses to cope with the reality of her life. And that's the end of Joyce Carol Oates' tale.
Every work is created for a reason - whether for simple pleasure, or to teach a lesson, or some other reason. This work, ID, was written to make its readers think. It was written to make its readers think about the true circumstances of their own lives, and how they deal with them. Lisette's story is simply the means in which Oates uses to begin the train of thought.

Oates, Joyce Carol. "ID." The New Yorker 29 Mar. 2010: 80-88. Print.

I Am Still

Just a sad, scared, lonely little girl
...in a world far too harsh for my feeble mind.

When will it end? When can I live again?

Bad Paper #2

Darlene McCoy
Margaret Amis
Writing 2
6 May 2010
Dear Reality, You've Been Denied!
As the story ID, by Joyce Carol Oates opens, readers are taken to a 7th grade math class where they find a mildly buzzed protagonist working hard to pass a lusciously purple kiss imprinted on a Kleenex to a boy “you didn't trifle with” who went by the name of JC. When there is a knock at the classroom door her teacher, Ms. Nowicki, goes to open it, and this protagonist, Lisette, takes her chance. The boy receives the note, crumples it, and shoves it in his pocket. She then hears her name called by the figures at the door - two police officers. The officers take Lisette to the local hospital, and proceed downstairs to the morgue. Lisette is asked to identify a woman's body - potentially her mother's. When she observes the body, Lisette instantaneously denies that it could even possibly be her mother. Lisette cannot see - she cannot even begin to think that her mother is the mangled corpse sprawled out on the steel bed.
Lisette Mulvey would be a typical middle schooler if she didn't have have to worry about getting prescription eye drops, didn't have to worry about her scars, or the dead nerves in her face. Lisette Mulvey would be a typical middle schooler if her father hadn't have broken her eye socket, nose, and mentally damaged her for life. She wouldn't have to wear dark-purple tinted prescription glasses. Her vision wouldn't be horribly clouded. She'd be just like everyone else - infatuated with her looks, and what the boys thought when they looked at her.
The glasses and injury that set her apart are a symbol of Lisette's inability to conscientiously identify her world. She cannot see that JC will exploit or potentially hurt her in the future. She cannot see that her father has anger issues. She cannot see that her mother is dead, even when her corpse is thrust before her eyes. She only sees what she wants, and anything else, well, just does not exist. She does not accept anything that is potentially detrimental to her life. She simply lives, day by day, not even caring for which day it is, dazed by her own actions, and sometimes, other forms of intoxication. How do we, then, as readers know that these terrible things are true?
Oates guides us to these conclusions by adding tidbits of information to her story. In the case of JC, Oates includes one sentence that undoubtedly lets us know who he is: "A girl had asked JC if he'd ever shot anybody and JC had just shrugged and laughed." Most 7th graders don't shoot people, or even know how to use a gun, or for that matter, own guns. Lisette's own description of how she came across her injuries reveals her father's issues, and even more so, her inability to realize those issues. "Daddy [was] shouting behind her, swiping with his fists - not meaning to hit her." There are many clues sprinkled into the entire short story that lead to the conclusion that the dead woman in the morgue is Lisette's mother. The fact that she disappears randomly for unknown numbers of days, the fact that she finds ways to weasel out of answering direct questions about her profession, and the fact that Lisette's mother doesn't want her to wear lipstick are all subtle clues to her prostitution. And this dead woman was found in a drainage ditch behind a sleazy motel -- not an uncommon resting place for a freshly slain hooker. Mentioning that the wallet found near the corpse carried the ID of Yvette Mulvey could even be considered a not-so-subtle hint, yet Lisette still refuses to see any connections between any of the aforementioned ideas.
When Lisette is finally confronted with the issues surrounding her parents, she cannot cope with the ideas presented to her. Officer Molina, the cop that is most focused on in the story, tells Lisette that her father is not, in fact, a sergeant in the army anymore, but that he has been AWOL from his position for a year. She is so shocked that she begins to shiver furiously. She cannot control the truth. Next, the officer leads her over to the corpse. Lisette looks over the body, thinking that, “This was not a woman, but a thing – you could not really believe that it had ever been a woman. Some sad, pathetic, broken female, like debris washed up on the shore.” She begins gagging, and the officer leads her to a restroom in case of vomiting. Lisette demands to be taken back to school, taken back to JC. The officers comply, and when she arrives, Lisette's friend Keisha inquires if she is “O.K.” to which Lisette replies, while laughing into the “bright buzzing blur,” “Sure I'm O.K. Hell, why not?” She returns to the girl who knows only what she has seen, and she had not seen her mother earlier that morning. She continues to live in a daze. She refuses to cope with the reality of her life.
And who could blame her? Her mother was a prostitute, found dead in a ditch, her father was a raging lunatic with anger issues, and from the way her life is going, she herself will possibly follow in her mother's footsteps, her first client being JC. She has nobody, no one, not one person in the world to turn to. Nobody to take her to get her prescription eye drops, nobody to tell her to care enough about herself to wash, nobody to tell her what's right from wrong. Is it okay for this girl to just deny reality, because hers is so horrid, or should she try to confront it and conquer it?
Lisette Mulvey is used as the protagonist in Joyce Carol Oates' short story, ID, to explore how this grimy, grungy girl copes when the true circumstances of her life are shoved in her face, like a plate of freshly prepared worms, still squirming. And through her experience -- readers are forced to attempt to identify their own "true circumstances,” and ponder the idea of denying reality.

GOGOGOGOGO

Darlene McCoy
& Yani Pohl
Le 7 mai, 2010
Une petite dialogue!

Y : Bonjour Madame Antoinette, je m’appelle Yani. Comment allez-vous?

MA : Je ne suis pas bien. Je suis dans la terre!

Y : La terre? Ah non! Vouz étes mort?

MA : Oui, je suis morte.

Y : Qu'est que vous étes morte?

MA : Je suis morte le seize octobre, mille sept cent soixante trois.

Y : C'est un longtemps! Comment vous étes morte?

MA : J'ai perdu ma tête.

Y : Ta tête?! Ah non! C'est très violent! Qu'est que vous avez fait avant de perdre ta tête?

MA : J'ai pensé a ma vie. Je n'ai pas compris pourquoi ils n'ont pas envie de manger du gateau!

Y : Vraiment? Je me demande pourquoi. Et ton mari? Il a perdu sa tête aussi?

MA : Oui. Il l'a perdue aussi, neuf mois avant moi.

Y : Avez-vous eu des enfants avant que vous étes morte?

MA : Oui, j’ai eu duex petit fils, Louis-Joseph et Louis Charles et j’ai eu duex filles, Marie et Sophie.

Y : Je vois. Est-ce que vous avez eu une bonne vie?

MA : J'ai dansé chaque soir, j'ai mangé de la bonne noriture chaque jour, j'ai été la femme du roi. Ma vie a été bonne.

Y : Désolée pour vos morts ! Mais, j'ai besoin d'aller! Au revoir, madame!