<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4640010409957570541</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:58:45.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>essays</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ianswork.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4640010409957570541/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ianswork.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01916108891743369163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4640010409957570541.post-3207547260129861019</id><published>2006-12-08T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T08:56:35.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Is it So Much to Ask?&lt;br /&gt;Is it true that entertainment has such a strong hold on the youth that their&lt;br /&gt;actual thoughts and actions can be connected to what they see and hear on&lt;br /&gt;television? This is a growing concern for the older generations as they turn to&lt;br /&gt;video games, movies, and rap music in order to understand what and why their&lt;br /&gt;children are thinking what they are thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Video games were created in the 1970s with the creation of the game&lt;br /&gt;Pong. Until the eighties, games were created for pure untainted fun, but Pac&lt;br /&gt;Man was the first game to incorporate destruction or “violence” of any kind.&lt;br /&gt;Pac Man went around the screen eating dots, and killing ghost, pretty violent&lt;br /&gt;right? With better graphics being produced at a constant rate games became more&lt;br /&gt;realistic, and with the graphics came more violence. It is nothing to see&lt;br /&gt;someone shoot a civilians head off, hire a prostitute, give her money, and then&lt;br /&gt;kill her after she has fulfilled her purpose, in a game today. Of course there&lt;br /&gt;are ratings, everybody through mature (just like on television), but they do not really stop the video&lt;br /&gt;games from being played, they just stop them from being bought. I have a seven&lt;br /&gt;year old cousin, who knows all of the Grand Theft Auto series like the back of&lt;br /&gt;his hand. I wonder if these video games are affecting his thought process at&lt;br /&gt;all. I often think to myself, “I pla&lt;br /&gt;yed James Bond: Golden Eye on Nintendo 64 constantly. I used to kill all of my&lt;br /&gt;friends and not think twice about it, I mean it was all in the spirit of&lt;br /&gt;competition. I turned out alright, didn’t I?”&lt;br /&gt;Recent research has made me think about the effects of violent video&lt;br /&gt;games. I have heard that there is speculation that these violent games lead to&lt;br /&gt;agression. I can see how they could lead to aggressiveness, but I honestly do&lt;br /&gt;not believe that a normal child would take what he or she sees in a video game&lt;br /&gt;and try to replicate it in real life. The day I see my little cousin throw&lt;br /&gt;someone out of a car, and swerve off, I am going to commence to beat his little&lt;br /&gt;ass. I have faith in my generation, as well as younger generations to separate what&lt;br /&gt;is real from not real.&lt;br /&gt;This much-needed awareness is also necessary when listening to rap&lt;br /&gt;music. I listen to rap, almost exclusively. I have so intricately placed two&lt;br /&gt;twelve inch MTX subwoofers in my trunk, so that everyone else knows when I am&lt;br /&gt;listening to rap. I nod my head, and say the lyrics, but I do not live by them.&lt;br /&gt;I can take what a rapper says as his or her interpretation on the times, but I&lt;br /&gt;know that in a lot of cases rappers do not even do what they say they do. Of&lt;br /&gt;course there are those who only speak the truth, but there are too many who do&lt;br /&gt;not. One would not believe how many kids have told me that they have AR-15s,&lt;br /&gt;and pump action shot guns, that they can get at will. It really insults my&lt;br /&gt;intelligence when someone unveils their arsenal to me, and expects me to nod&lt;br /&gt;along, in belief, every second of it. I never express my feelings, because some&lt;br /&gt;people take their “tools” very seriously, but people are seriously wrapped up in a fictitious world. Again, there are people who feel that t&lt;br /&gt;hey need an assault rifle to get through the day, and they go out and find a way&lt;br /&gt;to purchase them, but the average high-school/college student has no business&lt;br /&gt;buying one or telling me that they have one in the trunk.&lt;br /&gt;People also need to realize that, unless they are watching a&lt;br /&gt;documentary, odds are it is loosely based on a real event or all together fake.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how many times I have wanted to tell someone that Scarface is not,&lt;br /&gt;nor ever was a real person. Granted, Scarface is easily one of the best movies&lt;br /&gt;ever made, but I know way too many kids who have based their life’s plan off of&lt;br /&gt;this movie. I think that it is stupid to base your life off of a fictitious&lt;br /&gt;character, especially one who dies at the end, and yet I know I would get a&lt;br /&gt;crazy look if I asked why not Ace Ventura or Sponge Bob? They are all just as&lt;br /&gt;real to me.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could say that we live in a society where a kid will not try to&lt;br /&gt;replicate what he does in a video game, or tries to buy an AR-15 after he hears about it in a verse, but&lt;br /&gt;we do not. Therefore, the first step to stopping all of the foolishness that is&lt;br /&gt;occurring, some say due to video games, rap, and movies, lies with the parents.&lt;br /&gt;Parents need to instill a sense of right and wrong in their children. It sounds&lt;br /&gt;obvious, but there are kids who really do not know. If children know what is&lt;br /&gt;right and wrong they have no one to blame but themselves if something goes&lt;br /&gt;wrong. The second layer of responsibility lies with the kids themselves. Our&lt;br /&gt;generations, as well as younger generations, need to take it upon themselves to&lt;br /&gt;separate reality from fiction, and stop trying to blur the two. We cannot&lt;br /&gt;regulate what rappers, directors, and game technicians create, as they are all&lt;br /&gt;grown men and women creating products for other grow men and women; however if a&lt;br /&gt;child gets a hold of one of&lt;br /&gt;these grown up products, and their parents really do not even care (mine&lt;br /&gt;didn’t), they should be able to watch, listen to, or play it without going to school and doing what they have seen or heard. Maybe&lt;br /&gt;I am asking too much.&lt;br /&gt;The Destroyer&lt;br /&gt;I was all of ten on the threshold of manhood, digging through my mother’s closet&lt;br /&gt;to find all of her belts so she couldn’t give me a whooping. Over and over I&lt;br /&gt;cursed my parents for sending me to a school that made it’s more troubled&lt;br /&gt;students write letters home to their parents, and have them signed and returned&lt;br /&gt;the next day. Knowing how my parents would react, I forged a plan that I&lt;br /&gt;thought would result in me walking away with no ramifications for my conduct in&lt;br /&gt;class. I would place the letter in plain site, where my parents put all of&lt;br /&gt;their mail and remove all of my mom’s belts from her closet. I stood up, bent&lt;br /&gt;over from the weight of my mother’s need to coordinate each pair of shoes with a&lt;br /&gt;belt, and I noticed one more hanging in the corner. I had always pictured this&lt;br /&gt;particular belt in one of those “break in the event of and emergency” glass&lt;br /&gt;cases, but to my surprise it was nestled between her dry cleaning. “Can’t forget this one,” I thought as I ripped it from&lt;br /&gt;its perch on t&lt;br /&gt;he hanger. Her prized belt was composed of blue suede, with silver medallions&lt;br /&gt;going down it. I coined the name “destroyer” and bestowed it upon my blue suede&lt;br /&gt;tormenter. It was never used to dish out pain, but rather to intimidate and&lt;br /&gt;threaten. I could not take any chances leaving the “destroyer” in her closet,&lt;br /&gt;because I knew that if it was her only means to teach me my lesson, I was going&lt;br /&gt;to unwillingly confront my worst nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;I retreated to my room, as the adrenaline from the deed I had just&lt;br /&gt;performed wore off, leaving me giddy and nervous about the outcome. I watched&lt;br /&gt;the multitudes of color pile up on my bed as I dropped them one by one “1, 2,&lt;br /&gt;3,….” I counted them but the number I got did not equal the number I was getting&lt;br /&gt;while I was in my mom’s closet. “Where is the destroyer?” I thought&lt;br /&gt;frantically. I threw all of the belts in my closet and headed out of my room.&lt;br /&gt;Just then I heard the door open, which signaled my mom’s return. The moment I was waiting for was upon me,&lt;br /&gt;but my plan had erupted into a cataclysm, for which I had no back up plan. Now&lt;br /&gt;instead of giving my mom the letter and laughing as she found that her armory&lt;br /&gt;had been sacked, I was going to receive the whooping of my life. I began to&lt;br /&gt;regret having ever thought about stealing her belts because now I could not even&lt;br /&gt;receive my punishment from one of “the destroyer’s” lesser associates, I had to&lt;br /&gt;have a meeting with the boss. I ran back to my parent’s room, and looked in the&lt;br /&gt;closet to see if I dropped it, but unfortunately it was no where to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;“What is taking my mom so long to get up the stairs” I thought. “She’s probably&lt;br /&gt;reading my note.” I paced up and down the pathway that my bed and dresser&lt;br /&gt;created, in a daze, knowing what would become of my hide if I didn’t find it. I&lt;br /&gt;realized that I had to return to the scene of the crime due to the slight chance&lt;br /&gt;that I might have&lt;br /&gt;overlooked it in my haste. Sweat beaded on my forehead, as I entered the room. I grew sick when I saw a scene that still resonates&lt;br /&gt;in my mind: my mother, “destroyer” in hand, with an evil grin on her face that&lt;br /&gt;almost showed a malicious pleasure in how she was going to rearrange my anatomy&lt;br /&gt;that day. I threw my self upon the mercy of the court of Tina Capers-Hall,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling as though I had come to some kind of crossroad in my life, I was going&lt;br /&gt;to take my whooping like a man. I approached my mother, turned around, and&lt;br /&gt;pulled down my pants. As I waited for the silver medallions to get acquainted&lt;br /&gt;with my exposed skin and literally make their first “impressions,” that&lt;br /&gt;malicious grin turned into hysterical laughter, and she walked away without&lt;br /&gt;speaking a word. My plan had gone to hell, and somehow I got the outcome I had&lt;br /&gt;hoped for. Now all I had to do was put all of the belts back like they were&lt;br /&gt;because I knew I was not going to be able to dodge two whoopings in one day.&lt;br /&gt;Borat Review&lt;br /&gt;He is clueless, makes ridiculous comments, but we can not help but to&lt;br /&gt;love him. Picture Forrest Gump in a former Soviet country, add some crude humor, and&lt;br /&gt;you have Borat. In his November third debut on the big screen Kazakhstani&lt;br /&gt;journalist, Borat, is sent to America to find out why it is such a great&lt;br /&gt;country. That’s easy enough to understand, right? A director could take this&lt;br /&gt;simple idea and run in a number of directions with it. Sasha Cohen has taken&lt;br /&gt;what I would call an interesting route. Once in America, Borat falls in love&lt;br /&gt;with Pamela Anderson, and goes cross-country on a search for her. Along the way&lt;br /&gt;he meets many different Americans and records information to bring back, for the&lt;br /&gt;betterment of his country.&lt;br /&gt;Borat is a character on Cohen’s show “Da Ali G Show.” He goes around&lt;br /&gt;America saying whatever he pleases to unsuspecting civilians. Cohen has&lt;br /&gt;ingeniously blended his simple script with Borat’s interaction with real people.&lt;br /&gt;Coming from such a foreign land, Borat, played by Cohen himself, takes advantage&lt;br /&gt;of many of American’s need to be politically correct and polite in dealings with foreigners. Due to his “ignorance” of American culture, Borat&lt;br /&gt;makes outlandish comments in front of actual people, and though some of them get&lt;br /&gt;mad (as you will see in the movie) many are polite and attempt to teach him not&lt;br /&gt;to make such comments. I watched as an audience of individuals, ages thirteen&lt;br /&gt;and up, was captivated by this Kazahkstani moron paraded around the big screen&lt;br /&gt;in a very revealing speedo, or shared a very intimate kiss with his sister (in&lt;br /&gt;the first five minutes of the movie). Surprisingly, I was captivated as well.&lt;br /&gt;Every scene left me wondering what this guy could say next. I am a&lt;br /&gt;fan of the sketch on the show but I feared that Borat’s exploits would only work&lt;br /&gt;well when incorporated into a five to ten minute sketch on television, rather&lt;br /&gt;than a full-length feature film. Borat exceeded my expectations, and had me, as&lt;br /&gt;well as the audience gasping for air as we stifled our laughter so as not to&lt;br /&gt;miss the next joke.&lt;br /&gt;The Movie only falls short when any real acting needs to be done. Let’s face it, a Kazahakstani journalist in search of Pamela Anderson&lt;br /&gt;is not a very inspiring script to begin with, but the actor’s lack of training&lt;br /&gt;is easily spotted. Cohen is not as good of an actor as he is at improvising off&lt;br /&gt;of peoples reaction to what he says. I doubt Cohen was in search of an Oscar&lt;br /&gt;when he made this movie, and I am sure that those who are going to see this&lt;br /&gt;movie really care about Cohen’s professional theatrical training.&lt;br /&gt;The movie is very funny, one of the funniest I have seen in a while, but&lt;br /&gt;the lack of actual acting and offensive nature toward some cultures may turn&lt;br /&gt;some off of Borat. One can only truly enjoy this movie if they are able to&lt;br /&gt;stomach the male nudity, and tolerate some of the offensive remarks towards&lt;br /&gt;certain cultures. I would not recommend this movie to everyone, but if you want&lt;br /&gt;to laugh, possibly to the point of stomach cramps, (just hydrate before the&lt;br /&gt;movie) then you will give Borat a chance. Borat will not move you to go out and&lt;br /&gt;make a change, leave you reflecting on the state of the universe, or inspire roundtable discussions&lt;br /&gt;on C-Span, but he will also not disappoint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4640010409957570541-3207547260129861019?l=ianswork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ianswork.blogspot.com/feeds/3207547260129861019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4640010409957570541&amp;postID=3207547260129861019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4640010409957570541/posts/default/3207547260129861019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4640010409957570541/posts/default/3207547260129861019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ianswork.blogspot.com/2006/12/is-it-so-much-to-ask-is-it-true-that.html' title=''/><author><name>ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01916108891743369163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
