Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Relationship of a Father and Son Essay Example for Free

Relationship of a Father and Son Essay The moment where everything changed was the day Manning finally won his first arm wrestling match, his father gained some respect towards him and they both learned valuable lessons. One was manning learned that his father was a great parent in his own way and his father learned that being rough isnt the only way you can show affection to your son. On the other hand, in Shooting Dad†, Sarah Vowell describes the political differences her and he father have. In the house she states that one was a republican and the other was a democratic (171). Every time they would try to start a normal conversation they would end up arguing, and having discussions of who beat who. In the end she matures and realizes that they both are actually very alike. Communication is not as easy as it seems but if you take the time to listen and pay attention to details in life you’ll find that your parents’ views aren’t so far off of yours. The fathers competitive side was his way of showing his communicative relationship with his son. Manning used to be able to enjoy a relaxed game of arm wrestling with his father before but as time passed everything became more real and competitive. He states, I always had to lose Want to try it again? he would ask, grinning. and with squinting eyes he would laugh at me, a high laugh, through his perfect white teeth (163). The relationship between the father and son was a physical rough relationship. The attitude of the father impedes the communication to surpass the bond of strength that they have now. The father was seen as the protector of the family. He was the tough guy, who wouldnt show emotions. The son realized that his father has been the person he was for them. He guided them and helped them in the toughest situations in life. The age difference impeded the positive communication between them. This all started when he was a teen. The mental state of a son differs from the mental state of a father. The awareness, attitude, and strength all change as he matures over the years. As he grew he started working out more and became stronger while the dad was aging. The moment he realized he had matured and now viewed life different was when his dad challenged him to what was his last arm wrestling challenge between them. He felt sorry but the power that he was gaining was too exciting to let go of. When he was small the dad was the one with the power, he was the man of the house but now that he won he has now taken the responsibility to take that next challenge and soon be the adult, the head of household the one to take care of the family. He learned a lesson that changed the communication between him and his father. In my life as Ive grown Ive noticed a difference between the communication of my father and I. Before we would talk about dolls and makeup and now we communicate by being rough. We have competitions about the smallest things like whats that color to who will win the wrestling match or soccer game. At first to me all that was boring and bland, but as he started to get older he distanced himself from me. What stopped us from being able to communicate was the fact that we both had different views in life. I was focused on school and focused on achieving my goal to graduate and his focus was on his work and sports. We would spend limited time together that we had so much to talk about yet we would stay quiet for hours. He slowly became more involved in my school and studies and I would get pointers from him on how to play the sport correctly. Now during weekends we go to baseball games, basketball games, or to the library. Our bond has grown to be a strong relationship. The love between families is always there, it’s just that people choose to show their affection in many different ways. Manning and Vowell explain how they struggled to communicate with their father’s but overall they ended up figuring out that they are similar in many way to their father’s. The form that Manning was able to communicate or interact with his father was through a physical tough relation and the Vowell was through nature as she took photos and as he killed it. Learning to communicate can be the key to life; its just the matter of finding happiness between the people.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Essay on Prospero in Shakespeares The Tempest -- Tempest essays Willi

The Greatness of Prospero in William Shakespeare's The Tempest      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  No man is an island. It takes a strong, mature man to forgive those who hand him misfortune. It takes a real man to drop to his knees and repent. The character of Prospero in Shakespeare's Tempest is a man who has suffered much. Prospero is a puppet master throughout the play, but releases everything to save himself from his own self. The enemies in the play are not those whom he shipwrecked, they are of little consequence, and he plays them easily. Propero's purpose in The Tempest is only to make everything right again. "Ariel is accordingly shown as the agent of Prospero's purpose. He is Prospero's instrument in controlling and developing the action" (Knight 138). Prospero is the artist, and Ariel the art. Upon Prospero's words, Ariel tempts the murderer's and thwarts their effort, plays tricks on the drunks and turns them to danger, and brings Ferdinand and Miranda together. Prospero's character may be an extension of Shakespeare himself. "...the play is a certain measure autobiographical..." (Garnett, 221). While Shakespeare did not model Prospero in his own likeness, "It shows us more than anything else what the discipline of life had made of Shakespeare at fifty-a fruit too fully matured to be suffered to hang much longer on the tree." (Garnett, 221). Shakespeare wanted to "write a play that would satisfy himself , by expressing something, or many things, that were still unexpressed," (Murray 111). Shakespeare, like Prospero, was making amends and rebuilding burnt bridges as he entered the final chapter in his life. Prospero's presence of character is strengthened by the weaknesses of the other characters in the play. While Trinculo... ...all the events, we perceived him as an omnipotent being, who acted in a perfect manner. But in the end he is just a man. He is only a man. How many men forgive their enemies? How many men "take from the past not the ashes, but the fire?" (Anon) How many men save their enemies instead of killing them? Few. There are few great men. There are few great men that beg for forgiveness for themselves and others.    Works Cited Garnett, Richard. "Irving Shakespeare" The Tempest (and selected criticism). Charlotte Porter and Helen A. Clarke (eds.) Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. 1903. Knight, G. Wilson. "Shakespearian Superman" The Tempest D.J. Palmer (ed.) Macmillan & Co. 1968 Murray, J. Middleton. "Shakespeare's Dream" The Tempest D.J. Palmer (ed.) Macmillan & Co. 1968 Tillyard, E.M. "The Tragic Pattern" The Tempest D.J. Palmer (ed.) Macmillan & Co. 1968

Sunday, January 12, 2020

The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner Chapters 5

â€Å"Everyone knows that old-timey vampires had to stay in coffins during the day,† I went on. â€Å"To keep out of the sun. That's common knowledge, Diego.† â€Å"You're right. Al the stories do say that.† â€Å"And what would Riley gain by locking us up in a lightproof basement – one big group coffin – al day, anyway? We just demolish the place, and he has to deal with al the fighting, and it's constant turmoil. You can't tel me he enjoys it.† Something I'd said surprised him. He sat with his mouth open for a second, then closed it. â€Å"What?† â€Å"Common knowledge,† he repeated. â€Å"What do vampires do in coffins al day?† â€Å"Er – oh yeah, they're supposed to sleep, right? But I guess they're probably just lying there bored, 'cause we don't†¦ Okay, so that part's wrong.† â€Å"Yeah. In the stories they're not just asleep, though. They're total y unconscious. They can't wake up. A human can walk right up and stake them, no problem. And that's another thing – stakes. You real y think someone could shove a piece of wood through you?† I shrugged. â€Å"I haven't real y thought about it. I mean, not a normal piece of wood, obviously. Maybe sharpened wood has some kind of†¦ I don't know. Magical properties or something.† Diego snorted. â€Å"Please.† â€Å"Wel, I don't know. I wouldn't just hold stil while some human ran at me with a filed broom handle, anyway.† Diego – stil with a sort of disgusted look on his face, as if magic were real y such a reach when you're a vampire – rol ed to his knees and started clawing into the limestone above his head. Tiny stone shards fil ed his hair, but he ignored them. â€Å"What are you doing?† â€Å"Experimenting.† He dug with both hands until he could stand upright, and then kept going. â€Å"Diego, you get to the surface, you explode. Stop it.† â€Å"I'm not trying to – ah, here we go.† There was a loud crack, and then another crack, but no light. He ducked back down to where I could see his face, with a piece of tree root in his hand, white, dead, and dry under the clumps of dirt. The edge where he'd broken it was a sharp, uneven point. He tossed it to me. â€Å"Stake me.† I tossed it back. â€Å"Whatever.† â€Å"Seriously. You know it can't hurt me.† He lobbed the wood to me; instead of catching it, I batted it back. He snagged it out of the air and groaned. â€Å"You are so†¦ superstitious!† â€Å"I am a vampire. If that doesn't prove that superstitious people are right, I don't know what does.† â€Å"Fine, I'l do it.† He held the branch away from himself dramatical y, arm extended, like it was a sword and he was about to impale himself. â€Å"C'mon,† I said uneasily. â€Å"This is sil y.† â€Å"That's my point. Here goes nothing.† He crushed the wood into his chest, right where his heart used to beat, with enough force to punch through a granite slab. I was total y frozen with panic until he laughed. â€Å"You should see your face, Bree.† He sifted the splinters of broken wood through his fingers; the shattered root fel to the floor in mangled pieces. Diego brushed at his shirt, though it was too trashed from al the swimming and digging for the attempt to do any good. We'd both have to steal more clothes the next time we got a chance. â€Å"Maybe it's different when a human does it.† â€Å"Because you felt so magical when you were human?† â€Å"I don't know, Diego,† I said, exasperated. â€Å"I didn't make up al those stories.† He nodded, suddenly more serious. â€Å"What if the stories are exactly that? Made up.† I sighed. â€Å"What difference does it make?† â€Å"Not sure. But if we're going to be smart about why we're here – why Riley brought us to her, why she's making more of us – then we have to understand as much as we possibly can.† He frowned, every trace of laughter total y gone from his face now. I just stared back at him. I didn't have any answers. His face softened just a little. â€Å"This helps a lot, you know. Talking about it. Helps me focus.† â€Å"Me, too,† I said. â€Å"I don't know why I never thought about any of this before. It seems so obvious. But working on it together†¦ I don't know. I can stay on track better.† â€Å"Exactly.† Diego smiled at me. â€Å"I'm real y glad you came out tonight.† â€Å"Don't get al gooey on me now.† â€Å"What? You don't want to be† – he widened his eyes and his voice went up an octave – â€Å"BFFs?† He laughed at the goofy expression. I rol ed my eyes, not total y sure if he was making fun of the expression or of me. â€Å"C'mon, Bree. Be my bestest bud forever. Please?† Stil teasing, but his wide smile was natural and†¦ hopeful. He held out his hand. This time I went for a real high five, not realizing until he caught my hand and held it that he'd intended anything else. It was shockingly weird to touch another person after a whole life – because the last three months were my whole life – of avoiding any kind of contact. Like touching a sparking downed power line, only to find out that it felt nice. The smile on my face felt a little lopsided. â€Å"Count me in.† â€Å"Excel ent. Our own private club.† â€Å"Very exclusive,† I agreed. He stil had my hand. Not shaking it, but not exactly holding it, either. â€Å"We need a secret handshake.† â€Å"You can be in charge of that one.† â€Å"So the super-secret best friends club is cal ed to order, al present, secret handshake to be devised at a later date,† he said. â€Å"First order of business: Riley. Clueless? Misinformed? Or lying?† His eyes were on mine as he spoke, wide and sincere. There was no change as he said Riley's name. In that instant, I was sure there was nothing to the stories about Diego and Riley. Diego had just been around more than the others, nothing more. I could trust him. â€Å"Add this to the list,† I said. â€Å"Agenda. As in, what is his?† â€Å"Bul ‘s-eye. That's exactly what we've got to find out. But first, another experiment.† â€Å"That word makes me nervous.† â€Å"Trust is an essential part of the whole secret club gig.† He stood up into the extra ceiling space he'd just carved out and started digging again. In a second, his feet were dangling while he held himself up with one hand and excavated with the other. â€Å"You better be digging for garlic,† I warned him, and backed up toward the tunnel that led to the sea. â€Å"The stories aren't real, Bree,† he cal ed to me. He pul ed himself higher into the hole he was making, and the dirt continued to rain down. He was going to fil in his hidey-hole at this rate. Or flood it with light, which would make it even more useless. I slid most of the way into the escape channel, just my fingertips and eyes above the edge. The water only came up to my hips. It would take me just the smal est fraction of a second to disappear into the darkness below. I could spend a day not breathing. I'd never been a fan of fire. This might have been because of some buried childhood memory, or maybe it was more recent. Becoming a vampire was enough fire to last me. Diego had to be close to the surface. Once again, I struggled with the idea of losing my new and only friend. â€Å"Please stop, Diego,† I whispered, knowing he would probably laugh, knowing he wouldn't listen. â€Å"Trust, Bree.† I waited, unmoving. â€Å"Almost†¦,† he muttered. â€Å"Okay.† I tensed for the light, or the spark, or the explosion, but Diego dropped back down while it was stil dark. In his hand he had a longer root, a thick snaky thing that was almost as tal as me. He gave me an I-told-you-so kind of look. â€Å"I'm not a completely reckless person,† he said. He gestured to the root with his free hand. â€Å"See – precautions.† With that, he stabbed the root upward into his new hole. There was a final avalanche of pebbles and sand as Diego dropped back onto his knees, getting out of the way. And then a beam of bril iant light – a ray about the thickness of one of Diego's arms – pierced the darkness of the cave. The light made a pil ar from the ceiling to the floor, shimmering as the drifting dirt sifted through it. I was icy-stil, gripping the ledge, ready to drop. Diego didn't jerk away or cry out in pain. There was no smel of smoke. The cave was a hundred times lighter than it had been, but it didn't seem to affect him. So maybe his story about shade trees was true. I watched him careful y as he knelt beside the pil ar of sunlight, motionless, staring. He seemed fine, but there was a slight change to his skin. A kind of movement, maybe from the settling dust, that reflected the gleam. It looked almost like he was glowing a little. Maybe it wasn't the dust, maybe it was the burning. Maybe it didn't hurt, and he'd realize it too late†¦. Seconds passed as we stared at the daylight, motionless. Then, in a move that seemed both absolutely expected and also completely unthinkable, he held out his hand, palm up, and stretched his arm toward the beam. I moved faster than I could think, which was pretty dang fast. Faster than I'd ever moved before. I tackled Diego into the back wal of the dirt-fil ed little cave before he could reach that one last inch to put his skin in the light.

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Justice For All Act Of 2004 - 1071 Words

Throughout every state and county across the United States there are various means for offering assistance to victims of crime. Each municipality has its own victim advocacy program. For smaller areas such as rural counties they use the next organizational level up as their victim advocates. For the purpose of this paper I sat down with Ms. Mari Dennis of the Colorado Springs Police Department (CSPD). Ms. Dennis is employed as the Victim Advocacy Unit Coordinator and is embedded within the Investigations division of the department. CSPD employs four staff victim advocates and around 35 volunteer advocates. Legislation Discussion The Justice for All Act of 2004 was established in order to protect the rights of those victimized by crime.†¦show more content†¦Colorado Victims’ Rights Act (CVRA) At the state level, Colorado has written and enacted its own Victims’ Rights Act ahead of federal mandates previously discussed. In the early 1990’s Colorado passed an amendment to the state constitution to provide crime victims with certain rights. The driving force behind the amendment was to ensure the victim in a crime has their rights pursued and enforced in the same manner as those of criminal defendants. It is necessary to understand when a crime occurs; victims’ lives and those of their families are forever changed through no fault of their own. Focus While it is never fun to be the victim of a crime, there are only certain offenses covered under the CVRA. Back in 2008 I was a victim when my truck was broken into and a couple of things were stolen. That type of crime would not have been covered under a state crime victim’s rights act. The types of crimes covered are those of a personal nature. Crimes like murder, assault and bias-motivated crimes affect individuals on a much deeper level than breaking into a vehicle. For some, life will never be the same after having been victimized. This is where VA’s step in to offer whatever help they can be. Responsibilities Law enforcement has a duty to victims the same way the police have a responsibility to work a case from start to finish. Each LE organization has