My Progress as an AP Writer

With the last AP essay of my 11th grade year over with, I look back on my previous essays and notice... nothing. My writings skills have more or less stagnated, with minimal improvement based on my writing logs. Does this mean I didn't learn anything? On the contrary, I gained a lot of writing knowledge throughout the year, even if my writing log doesn't reflect that.

Let's look at my writing from the very beginning of the year: the summer reading nonfiction rewrite. This is the first essay with an AP grade of 11 AP, albeit not the first essay written. This is a perfect reflection of the skills I gained from 10 Honors, as we had yet to learn or develop writing skills specific to the semester. I wrote on Quiet by Susan Cain, and the prompt was on how the author used specific devices to convey her purpose. I consider rhetorical analysis my worst skill and topic to write about, but this was not the lowest score I received throughout the year. I got a 6 (which is honestly pretty typical for me); my strength was a "good observation of [the] author's purpose and tone discussion," and my challenges were being "[un]specific with language analysis/devices" and "need[ing] to explain more." I quote this from the previous writing log, so it's my own writing. ...That sounds like me: having a good claim, but not having much explanation or development. (As you'll soon see, I write "good claim" or something similar in the "Strength" column of my writing log for practically all of them. Clearly, I don't know my own strengths.) At the beginning of the year, I often included extra information and I failed to expand my analysis. This was mostly due to me failing to truly comprehend the texts I was given, so I just gave "padding" on what I felt was a correct interpretation. It was good enough, but I needed to do better.

For the second full AP test, I turned in the rhetorical analysis. I felt it was my weakest out of the three and poorly written (before the rewrite). Unlike everything else, the strength I wrote here is slightly different: "clean analysis of excerpt." Well, it's not just the claim that's clear; the section that matters the most—the analysis—was clear. At this point in the year, I gained a lot more experience writing rhetorical analysis than at the start of the year. I read a lot of sample papers, and my mind was refreshed on particular strategies to use and ways to do rhetorical analysis (for example, tracing the argument). I got a 7 on this essay, which doesn't seem like much of an improvement. The fact that it was rhetorical analysis in and of itself, however, is already proof that something has improved. I was able to find stronger and more specific rhetorical devices, and I expanded my analysis to account for implications and deeper meaning. Of course, that was a result of reading the essays of other people and learning the skills in class.

As is evident in my writing logs, my strengths, weaknesses, and scores are pretty much the same. Like last year, they go up and down with no real pattern. Nevertheless, I still feel like I grew as a writer. I feel like I already know my style, so reading someone else's essay for guidance wasn't a big influence. Those essays, alongside lessons during class, helped teach me what I should look for in a prompt and in text. Both of these taught me how to delve deeper in the text and have greater understanding of the author's purpose. The only thing that was holding me back was actually reading more texts and essays for practice and advice. I definitely faced other roadblocks: often times I had no idea what I was writing and still did not understand what was being asked (yet those somehow always turn better than ones where I feel know what I am writing on, so who am I to judge). If I want to improve even more, I'll definitely need to read more books and other pieces of writing, and I'll need to read more closely as well. Reading more helps me more easily understand what authors want to convey, and it also expands my knowledge of the world, allowing me to be a more active citizen and to take stances on more subjects. At the very least, I feel I've achieved my goal from 10th grade (more or less): to expand my thoughts and to be more succinct with my writing.

What are you even saying?

People are usually able to understand what I'm saying (if they can hear me, but that's a different story). They can completely comprehend two of my "Englishes" that I use on a daily basis: serious and not serious. I grouped most of the English I speak into these two major categories, as they serve similar functions and sound relatively the same as others in the same category.

The ways that I speak that fall under the "serious" category are usually more snide and straightforward. I say whatever comes to mind without holding back; it's also not completely serious, as I tell jokes with it. (It's just named that way for the sake of contrast). I also use more sophisticated word choice (and sometimes a more British-sounding or old-timey accent): "but of course," "insinuating," "exemplify," etc. It's very structured; I speak grammatically correct sentences with very few colloquialisms. I use this whenever I'm with pretty close friends, as I can be a bit freer with my harsh remarks than I can with mere acquaintances. The sophisticated word choice is just me semi-consciously trying to make myself sound smarter (but I also like how those words sound). This is the form I use the most throughout my daily life, as I often encounter moments where I need to be serious; I usually default to this if I'm not specifically trying to use the other English often.

My other English that I use quite often is a drastic turn from the previous one: it's almost the complete opposite. I try to sound like an idiot whenever I use my "not serious" form of English. I pretend I don't comprehend really obvious things people tell me, and I give really dumb replies to questions people ask me. I talk slower and speak with a higher pitched compared with my more serious English. Also in this category are my more "laid back" responses: they have the same tone of voice when I try to sound dumb, but I'm only trying to go with the flow and not trying to lighten the atmosphere. This English is where my true comic prowess is employed. Acting dumb allows me to be funnier and derail conversations. It makes things more interesting, as I don't give a straight answer; this may be annoying to the victim other person, but he or she generally isn't bothered by it. I play dumb with my family and close friends, as they can take a joke. For every other situation, however, I interchange between laid back English and a less snide form of serious English.

Those are the two "Englishes" that most people can understand... so what of the third one? The third one is more of a "mod" or an "add-on" so to speak; in fact, it's not English. It's a combination of random Chinese, Taiwanese, and Japanese phrases that express what I want to say better than I could in English. Obviously, by themselves, most people would be clueless as to what I am saying; however, I use them in situations where it makes sense and only context clues are needed to understand them. For example, if someone asks me a question that I couldn't quite comprehend, I often use the Chinese/Taiwanese word for "what" with a look on my face that people usually have when they say "Huh?" or the like. People usually pick up that I'm confused about what they've said, even if they don't fully understand exactly what I said. I mostly use this, alongside normal Chinese, whenever I'm with Chinese speakers. It's a simple divide with some overlapping words: I use mainly Chinese with people who mainly speak Chinese, using a little English for words that are better expressed in English (like "anyway" and some obscure nouns), and I use mainly English with English-speaking people with the exceptions I mentioned above. (I don't speak just Japanese with anybody; they're just a few words I picked up from my sister and other places). It's just easier for the involved parties to understand what I'm saying. If anyone wants to hear my super enthusiastic voice say some of these exceptions, I recorded them for your listening pleasure.

By using a more "serious" form of English, I don a sarcastic and smart personality. I am quick to retort, and I play the straightman when it comes to jokes. I also flaunt my knowledge; I let people know that I know a lot. As such, whenever I use this English, people often tell me that I always "roast" people and say I am smart. It boosts my ego to do these sorts of things, but it can get pretty sinister if I go too far with it. I balance it out with my "not serious" form of English. When I use this form, I sound much more easygoing and laid back. I'm less tense; I tend to seem happier and laugh more speaking this English. It is definitely a lot funnier for me; I like messing with people by acting dumb. Therefore, by seeming like I'm much more stupid than I actually am, I can be the trickster archetype that I love in various forms of media; I manipulate people and make them do things they would not do normally. They have to go out of their way to explain things, or I mess with their thought process to make them think differently. With my last English, I create a worldly persona. I emphasize that I'm bilingual- that I can speak multiple languages. I can switch freely between languages, and people view me as knowledgeable instead of just smart. Whenever I'm in public with my parents, I use Chinese to (hide insults about the people around me and) reveal that I posses the ability to interchange between all my Englishes. I can change from the "carefully wrought grammatical phrases" (Tan 700) of my "serious" English to the extremely informal speech of my "not serious" English, and I can use them interchangeably with my other English that isn't really English. With these tools in hand (or mouth), I can get through any sort of situation that comes my way.

Why I Love YouTube

YouTube is great. It's a place where people can share their experiences and ideas visually. I spend quite a bit of time on it, and it got me thinking: why do I love YouTube so much?

I love how YouTube has videos on every single topic imaginable. I love how the first video uploaded on YouTube was a video talking about long elephant trunks being cool. I love how people talk about what they ate for lunch today, what obviously very interesting thing they'll be doing later, and mindless rants about important subjects like pineapple on pizza. I love how TV programs upload segments of their show just so people can rewatch the same thing over and over again because that's all they can watch. I love how people react to other videos and have none of their own, because it's very original. I love how people reupload videos from other places, because obviously I'm too lazy to watch them elsewhere. I love how numerous videos are just memes and not people's own jokes, as I need my daily dose of edgy children listening to "Darude - Sandstorm" while shooting 360 No Scopes.

I love how YouTube works. I love how Content ID functions perfectly and has not missed millions of illegal videos. I love how people can get copyrighted for content not even in their video. I love how people are paid based on the amount of views they have, and the most popular videos are always shown near the top. I love how YouTube Red exists, as I want to support creators by paying money to watch ten videos despite them getting millions from hundreds of other videos of basically the same topic. I love how even if I want to watch YouTube Red, I am unable to because I live somewhere that's not America. I love how YouTube's comment filter allows comments like "first" or "1 subscribe = 1 girlfriend", so I can see the incredible insight people have about the video. I love how YouTube recommends me videos of my favorite topic, sports, despite never watching a single video on sports. I love how YouTube removed active subscribers from people they were subscribed to along with actual inactive subscribers.

I love the people who make content on YouTube. I love how many have quit their job and make a living off of videos of playing games people are too lazy to go out and buy. I love the people who ask for subscribers or likes, as they need to "remind" their viewers to hit those buttons. I love how people put pictures of women in their thumbnails for Call of Duty videos. I love how singers who have bots post videos for them have some of the most subscribers because people don't listen to radio anymore. I love how the most subscribed to person on YouTube makes videos of him shoddily performing a skit or creating contests to make memes of himself.

There's so much to love about YouTube, but I don't I can sum it up very well. I think I may have to take the words of someone else, just like so many creators on YouTube have. In the words of Judy Brady, someone with (hopefully) similar sentiments: "My God, who wouldn't [love YouTube]?" (Brady 541).

Truly Free Chickens & Eggs

If I were asked to give an example of the word "free," I would probably take out a bunch of coupons for Kroger that they give for recycling: free milk, free eggs. Some people might say "free shipping," but those people don't actually read the terms of service and fail to realize it's more of "free-with-tax-and-some-other-fees-so-it's-not-actually-free" shipping.

Google defines freedom as "the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved" and "the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint." There are a few other definitions, but these two are probably the most relevant.

Speaking of free Kroger eggs, many of these cartons have labels that say "cage-free" or "free-range." Cage-free, despite popular belief, is more or less replacing a smaller cage with a bigger cage. Free-range is the same; the chickens that lay the eggs just have a wider space to roam, but they are still limited in how far they can move. Indeed, the chickens have some freedom as cage-free and free-range suggest, but they aren't actually free. They're owned by farmers or other people and can't go where they please (and if they weren't, we wouldn't have chicken or eggs as they would all wander off in some aimless direction). In any case, chickens can't really be called "enslaved" as they do no work and probably don't mind their state of affairs, but they're definitely imprisoned on their farms/factories. The chickens don't care, in any case.

In order to be free, however, being able to go wherever is not enough. Patrick Henry equates being free with "preserv[ing] inviolate those inestimable privileges" (Henry 230) that were taken away from him and the rest of the colonists. The trusty Google dictionary defines privilege as "special rights" granted to people; moreover, Google defines right as "a moral or legal entitlement to have or obtain something or to act in a certain way."

The "legal entitlement" part is easy to explain. The government grants rights and, by the transitive property of equality, freedoms. This should be a logical conclusion with no flaws- but there is one big contradiction. If the government is the one granting rights, are people truly free? They can exercise the right, but only within the bounds the government dictates. The right is in the hands of the government, not the person- the government controls the freedom, so "legal entitlement" is not a true freedom.

"Moral entitlement" is a bit harder to deduce, so it's easier to think of them as "moral rights" or "natural rights." One way of viewing them is that they are "[unalienable rights] endowed by [our] Creator" (Jefferson 236). This would be acceptable if morals were entirely based on religion, but many of society's morals aren't derived from God. This brings up another point: moral rights and morals in general only work if society agrees on them. Someone's own moral code made counteract with another person's, but who is right? Let's say I just dropped a fire diss track on someone, and he or she was greatly offended by it. I may have the freedom of speech, but there's one catch; many people forget about pursuit of happiness. Society has dictated insults are (more or less) morally wrong and they should be used sparingly (or not at all). Defining "natural rights" as the right to have my will protected and to protect the wills of others, I have therefore infringed on the poor victim's natural or moral rights- however, the only reason I think this is due to my morals. I would have thought nothing of it if not for my morals, and morals are created by society. My sense that insults are "wrong" is universally agreed upon by society. As such, moral rights were created from generations of human thought and realization and thus are not a true freedom.

True freedom is unobtainable. People will always be around to hamper freedom through laws or morals. Going against what society thinks is one thing, but laws still limit what someone can do. People in a government-less area will still think murder is wrong and punish the culprit. This is not to say being truly free means being a heartless anarchist, as that will probably mean death with everyone being your enemy. Instead, be like a chicken; despite the obvious boundaries, mind your own business as you do as you please. That mindset is the closest to true freedom as anyone can get.

Finding the Truth Clouded in Emotions

One of my favorite characters in any type of media is one of the first things most people see upon entering this blog. He's the one on the banner that no one knows about (probably): looking all smug on the right side, Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth himself. I mention him not because I want to enlighten the world of his presence, but because he reminds me of John Proctor.

John Proctor, the supposed hero of Arthur Miller's The Crucible, attempts to use logic and reasoning to dissuade the townsfolk from continuing the witch trials. He reveals the holes in the judgment of others, and he demands proof or a valid reason behind their actions. Some are taken aback by his reluctance, as can be seen with Cheever when he stutters to answer "What signifies a poppet?" (Miller 772; Act 2) and provides no clear response to such. Proctor notices that many of the accused had histories of "upright reputation[s]" (245; Act 3), yet they were still convicted of being witches. He gives up his own name to expose the truth: by exposing his relationship with Abigail, Proctor proves (or at least tries to, before Elizabeth wasted his last chance) that his wife had no motive for kicking Abigail out. To justify this, he himself said that people won't "cast away [their] good name" (846-847; Act 3), proving that there is no reason for him to lie.  However, Proctor seemingly loses to the emotionality created by the hysteria, as he is ultimately sentenced to die.

Miles Edgeworth, the renowned prosecutor of the Ace Attorney series, attempts to use logic and reasoning to uncover the truth. He finds contradictions in the testimony of witnesses, and he asks for vital evidence and his opponents' own opinions before they jump to conclusions. Many of his witnesses lie (or have misconceptions) to protect their own ideas of what is right: they cling onto their emotions. He has many adversaries that try to stop him in his quest, but Edgeworth manages to disprove all their theories and accusations through evidence, observations, and investigations. He even risks his Prosecutor's Badge and becomes a defense attorney's assistant (which is the opposite of a prosecutor) to reveal what really happened, and, in the end, he always uncovers the truth. What did Edgeworth do right and where did Proctor go wrong?

The truth of the matter (that was intentional) is this: he didn't. Edgeworth's only goal is to find the truth, and he succeeds in doing so. There is little to no difference in the way Proctor and Edgeworth go about finding the truth (which Proctor does in a roundabout way, even if he does not explicitly mention this to be his goal), so there should be no difference in results. Proctor is sentenced to death, but his final act of defiance is what gives him the last laugh and what makes him the victor. He tears up his confession; he justifies his actions with the fact that the court has taken everything from him: he "[has] given them [his] soul," but he does not have another name (729-720; Act 4). He clings on to reasoning to the very end, and people have noticed that. His very actions and words have convinced Reverend Hale of his argument: Salem has no witches, and the whole mess is an elaborate act set up by the girls. Even some townspeople side with him: after his arrest, barely 30 people (which sounds like a lot for what I can assume is a small town, but Parris says otherwise) came for his excommunication, and Reverend Parris even had a (very sad excuse for a) murder attempt. For John Proctor himself to be arrested, there must be something very wrong with the events taking place in Salem. The town clearly agrees with Proctor; as such, he has planted the seed of logic in the streets of emotion that has only started to grow. Emotionality doesn't overpower logic; logic reveals the truth that triumphs over emotionality.

The Song of an Angry God

Jonathan Edwards has a strange way of convincing people do to something. First, he tells his listeners that they're going to Hell. Next, he describes the terrors of Hell in frighteningly violent terms. Finally, he tells them everything is okay because Christ can save them.

The purpose of Jonathan Edwards' sermon, Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, is to evoke fear in his listeners, telling them that they are damned to go to Hell as they have sinned. He scares them into repenting with his use of descriptive language, something quite abnormal in Puritan literature. Edwards describes the punishment of angering God as an "exquisite horrible misery" (Edwards 124) in the fiery pits of Hell. God sees sinners as "ten thousand times more abominable" (123) than those already in Hell, and hold them over the fiery pit like one would hold a spider or another insect. There is nothing but the mere pleasure of this angry God that keeps the arrow of death from being "drunk with [their] blood" (122). His graphic and vivid use of imagery and other language devices truly strikes fear into his audiences hearts.

 However, he reveals there is hope for them, as Jesus Christ will forgive them of their sins. His tone shifts; he changes from a condescending, grim tone to a urgent, joyful tone. By appealing to his audience's fear, he is able to convince them there is no other solution to the terrible fate they will face.

Jonathan Edwards knew how to use fear to convey his purpose, and the same success can be seen elsewhere. Just like Edwards' sermon, Saya no Uta (or Song of Saya) describes a horrific scenario of the same caliber. Fuminori Sakisaka gets caught in a car accident that kills his parents- but, it also gives him a brain disorder in which he sees everything as a scene from a grotesque horror movie: bloody and disgusting. The walls are covered in blood and organs, and his friends looks like monsters and demons. In other words, his life becomes a living Hell. However, it turns out to be a blessing in disguise (and said blessing is also a curse in disguise, but that's irrelevant): he finds a beautiful girl named Saya whom understands and loves him.

In this case, Saya is both the angry God and Jesus Christ (considering God and Jesus are one and the same). Saya creates Fuminori's living hell, as she gives him the brain disorder. Just like God, who can cast sinners into the pits of Hell anytime he wishes. Saya also consoles Fuminori and brightens his day, as she cares for him and is the only person that looks normal to him. She helps Fuminori become desensitized to his gory environment. This is exactly like Edwards' description of Jesus: he fills his followers with love and gives them salvation from Hell, helping ease their fears.

Edwards himself also shares similarities with Saya. Once again, Edwards goal was to scare him audience into repenting their sins and accepting Christ. Saya's goal was to scare Fuminori into coming to her and being with her. Their target audience was afraid enough to cling onto any salvation they could find. In fact, Saya's own success only highlights the fact that appealing to fear is extremely effectively in persuasion, something that Edwards uses throughout his sermon with the same success.

Fear is a powerful tool in convincing people, and Saya and Jonathan Edwards both use it masterfully for their respective purposes. With his vivid description of the horrors of Hell and the wrath of an angry God, Edwards appeals to his audiences fear and convinces them that repenting is the only way out of their horrible fate. He definitely made his point, but I doubt the congregation could sleep at night after hearing him, even with Christ in their hearts.

The Longevity of a Turtle with Plants on Its Shell

The Iroquois sure are interesting people. Not only did they manage to come up with the idea that they live on a giant sea turtle, they also managed to plagiarize off of older creation myths. I wonder how they copied off of people an ocean away from them (on both sides).

Joking aside, the Iroquois creation story really does highlight that the majority of humans think similarly: the Great Tree in Sky-World is similar to the Yggdrasil of Norse mythology; the twins similar to yin and yang of Chinese Philosophy; and where the twins ended up is similar to Heaven and Hell. However, it does have a few unique elements: namely, the sea turtle that everyone lives on.

The sea turtle in the story of "The World on the Turtle's Back" is what the Iroquois believe land on Earth came from. While the concept of a "World Turtle" isn't necessarily new, the turtles of Chinese and Hindu mythology don't (directly) support whole worlds. The sea turtle of Iroquois myth is the world itself, and that makes it pretty special.

It's also a good example of how deeply connected to nature and wildlife the Iroquois are. The turtle is symbolic to life itself, as it has everything people need to survive. These people respect the animals and respect them for being wise, brave, determined, and many other attributes someone would strive to embody. The fact that "all the creatures" (Iroquois 36) help the woman securely fall down and obtain the dirt from the bottom of the ocean necessary for vegetation to grow proves how important animals are to the Iroquois culture.

On the other hand, the sea turtle is also pretty prevalent in our culture as well, especially in video game design. Take Torterra for instance: literally the "Continent Pokémon," this turtle-like creature has a large tree and some mountains on its back. Most Pokémon don't have this level of intricacy, having symmetrical designs with intricate patterns instead of exterior details. The design highlights an attention to detail, and, consequently, the importance of the turtle in Iroquois myth (to the Iroquois people and culture). It may only be a land turtle with a tiny world on its back, but it is clear that Game Freak was thinking of the Iroquois when designing Torterra.

Another similar turtle is the Turtle (yes, that is its name) from The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask. The Turtle is originally hidden underwater, and only its back is visible. Its back looks like a tiny island, with two palm trees and some grass. Waking it up reveals that it has been asleep since ancient times, but it has been watching over the seas in its slumber. This may be akin to Iroquois thinking, with the sea turtle protecting them with its plentiful harvests and other resources. In any case, the turtle is important in helping Link save Zelda, as is the sea turtle in the myth in helping people survive and thrive in a world that was once only water.

To be frank, the sea turtle plays a really small role in the Iroquois myth; the myth focuses more on the grandmother and the twins. In other words, the turtle has a few minutes of screen time before being replaced by the movie stars. That turtle is, however, an important part of Iroquois culture: it's what they live on!  Video game designers definitely see that importance, but they may also see the deeper meaning behind the sea turtle and its role in Iroquois culture as well.

Or, it could just be me overanalyzing things again.