I can spend my time alone
Replay the time I had with you
Display the things that were so great
And wish again I could create
But I always fair warning when I was in
Whatever feelings happened weren't for her life
Maybe its worth it but before I begin
I need to wait for the ending of the summer's strife
Cuz I always liked autumn more anyways
Beautiful buildings and birds all in song
Never seemed like anything went wrong
The movies stuck on replay in my head
Fueled by the promises that I regret
Cuz I was wrong about everything
Maybe I'll send a card someday
Maybe your inhibitions will fade away
Back to the broken promises you said
You can tell me how I was right, eventually
Cuz I always autumn more anyways
I can spend my time alone
Childhood morals never saved me from sorrow
Or I watch what I love fall in love
To realize I'm right at my own expense
Summer's gone and I'm not well
Life is stopped forever as far as I can tell
But with Autumn the colors change
Giving me hope to believe in something strange
Friday, June 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Home
It's 3:30 AM on August 10th and I'm watching Lord of the Rings for probably about the 4th time this summer at my best friends. Yes, it's late, and I probably should be sleeping seeing as I have to go vote for MAK in primaries and I have a date with my girlfriend, but a basic fact about me is I don't sleep. I like to think I'm "living life to the fullest" by staying awake, playing games, fb stalking, and researching animal attack videos in the wee hours when normal people sleep most of the time. This time I have a reason: I'm worried about leaving home.
Lots of college kids say they love to leave, clearly. I mean, high school is full of elitist cliques who systematically control your life and so many bad decisions made for you that it's almost as though you were created to hate the institution you started with just of off association, right? College offers many individualistic opportunities: kids who actually like that band that your friends don't know, that movie your friends didn't see because they thought it was more important to do shots and party at that moment. Honestly, waiting a couple years definitely solves mistakes for that (minors), but whatever. College is awesome, statement of fact. Yet so many others like myself are probably questioning "Why am I leaving?".
Most kids are attached to their parents, brothers, sisters, pets, etc. and think that they can't survive without them, yet after half a semester they don't even think about calling them or staying in contact till the next time they have to leave campus or need money, sadly. I'm ahead of the curve: I know I won't call my mother most of the time, to be simple. But she'll be okay with that because she knows I can handle myself. Hell, the last year I lived without her finding food, rides, places to go all without her help while she wants to create the "perfect family" with my new stepdad and kids, sacrificing all of her ideals and liberal actvism to go on hunting trips with Mr. NRA Dad: class conformity at its finest. I won't worry like other college kisd about actually having to be independent. I'm well aware of the basics of modern survival.
I'm worried about leaving my city. Cliche, definitely. The heroes always talk about defending their lands in epic stories and shit, but really, that's the simplistic version of it. I've lived in Bloomington for 8 years, way longer than the first 4 years spent in my life in Thunder Bay Ontario and the rest in various places (I'm 18). I moved around a ton. It's inevitable when your mom pops you out as a mistake at the age 20 as she's a freshman in college who needs a Masters in English. Her plan for raising me was just to make sure I had shelter and food, wherever that may be. I love her for that, honestly, but as a young'n I cut off the emotional attachments to cities and places because it hurts like hell to leave home over and over. Not just go away for a bit, but legitimately leave, where you know even if you come back, its not your home, just a shadow of your unpleasant past. It sucks. I learned this at about 10 as I left Wolf Point, MN.
Bloomington became my home. I've spent 5th-12th grade here. Honestly, this place to me is the best my mom could have ever placed me. Here I've gained the ability to think and do activities such as Debate where 90% of schools don't offer. Here I've seen how much different and shitty the places such as Wolf Point, the Indian reservation, or Thunder Bay, the dying mill city are compared to the suburbs of the Twin Cities. I complain about tons of shit, I'm a teenager, but I can't complain about the wondrous suburb itself. Sure, there's a ton of pretentious douchebags who flaunt borrowed wealth around and will probably fail expectations in life somewhere, but that's a product of families, not the activities and location I feel. My friends bitch about how there isn't anything to do, no fun, blah blah blah, but if you've seen a glimpse of the world outside, Americans would probably slap them for even saying such a thing. We are gifted with so many chances to succeed, so yeah, expectations should run high. Non suburb kids don't have what we have. As a student I slacked off a lot, and in the summer I truly regretted it because I wasted such a valuable asset: true public education. Tons of kids don't have books, resources, teachers, or even systems to design them to succeed while my AP teachers would have jumped at the chance had I signaled for help, or even signaled interest. These past thoughts have sounded so unlike my personality I'm starting to think I'm dying or something...damn.
All college kids are sad to leave home though, I know that. I guess the reason why I think I'm so special to blog about my experience is because most kids grow up with one home, especially in the suburbs. They can recall early childhood memories in the same area over and over. I can't. My childhood memories include my mom walking me to daycare so she could go to college, moving, and subways screams in Toronto or long bus rides in Montana. None of that stuff I could ever claim to be mine. The kids there wouldn't have accepted if I said "Wow, I'm definitely a Thunder Bay kid." I only lived 4 years there, I don't know shit about how those kids really live or even what living in the city is like. Even stating that would be insulting to the people's homes themselves. Its a false reality to even being to think that being born in Thunder Bay, Wolf Point, Toronto, etc defines a large part of my personality consciously.
Bloomington is different though. I attended all of middle school at Olson and all of high school at Jefferson. I made many friends. I played basketball, ran cross country and track, and learned Debate here. I can recall bored Friday nights at a friends, or going to school everyday in the same area. It's my home. The things I've done here define who I am. I found it, and to leave now is so depressing because I can't just cut it off like I did in the past. I'm too old, I have all the great times of going to state in basketball or those late nights researching or all my friends stuck in my head. You can't detach yourself from the things that make you who you are, and leaving to the University of Iowa means I'll be gone from Jefferson, and from home. I loved that school more than any public building in the world. Classes were a drag, but I experienced them there. There were my classes, my friends, my activities, and it was my school, which is so important to a kid who had to move frequently without a lot to hold onto. In Bloomington I had control of my life, my mom put me in a place where I was secure. The walks around 102nd and bike rides around the city everyday assured me that this was my place. I wasn't leaving, and I'm more thankful for that than I ever have been in my life.
Most people have home in their hearts, true. Its corny, but when I leave to Iowa I'll carry all the great times, challenges, and experiences that I found chillin' in the suburbs because to me that occurred in my home, because after all was said and done, I always knew I had an open invitation to the last house before Bloomington Covenant church and Brookside fields on W. 102nd St. So when I leave for Iowa City, that will all change, but hopefully Bloomington will take me and give me refuge when I occasionally return and remind me of a faithful sanctuary after a life of nomadic origins.
Lots of college kids say they love to leave, clearly. I mean, high school is full of elitist cliques who systematically control your life and so many bad decisions made for you that it's almost as though you were created to hate the institution you started with just of off association, right? College offers many individualistic opportunities: kids who actually like that band that your friends don't know, that movie your friends didn't see because they thought it was more important to do shots and party at that moment. Honestly, waiting a couple years definitely solves mistakes for that (minors), but whatever. College is awesome, statement of fact. Yet so many others like myself are probably questioning "Why am I leaving?".
Most kids are attached to their parents, brothers, sisters, pets, etc. and think that they can't survive without them, yet after half a semester they don't even think about calling them or staying in contact till the next time they have to leave campus or need money, sadly. I'm ahead of the curve: I know I won't call my mother most of the time, to be simple. But she'll be okay with that because she knows I can handle myself. Hell, the last year I lived without her finding food, rides, places to go all without her help while she wants to create the "perfect family" with my new stepdad and kids, sacrificing all of her ideals and liberal actvism to go on hunting trips with Mr. NRA Dad: class conformity at its finest. I won't worry like other college kisd about actually having to be independent. I'm well aware of the basics of modern survival.
I'm worried about leaving my city. Cliche, definitely. The heroes always talk about defending their lands in epic stories and shit, but really, that's the simplistic version of it. I've lived in Bloomington for 8 years, way longer than the first 4 years spent in my life in Thunder Bay Ontario and the rest in various places (I'm 18). I moved around a ton. It's inevitable when your mom pops you out as a mistake at the age 20 as she's a freshman in college who needs a Masters in English. Her plan for raising me was just to make sure I had shelter and food, wherever that may be. I love her for that, honestly, but as a young'n I cut off the emotional attachments to cities and places because it hurts like hell to leave home over and over. Not just go away for a bit, but legitimately leave, where you know even if you come back, its not your home, just a shadow of your unpleasant past. It sucks. I learned this at about 10 as I left Wolf Point, MN.
Bloomington became my home. I've spent 5th-12th grade here. Honestly, this place to me is the best my mom could have ever placed me. Here I've gained the ability to think and do activities such as Debate where 90% of schools don't offer. Here I've seen how much different and shitty the places such as Wolf Point, the Indian reservation, or Thunder Bay, the dying mill city are compared to the suburbs of the Twin Cities. I complain about tons of shit, I'm a teenager, but I can't complain about the wondrous suburb itself. Sure, there's a ton of pretentious douchebags who flaunt borrowed wealth around and will probably fail expectations in life somewhere, but that's a product of families, not the activities and location I feel. My friends bitch about how there isn't anything to do, no fun, blah blah blah, but if you've seen a glimpse of the world outside, Americans would probably slap them for even saying such a thing. We are gifted with so many chances to succeed, so yeah, expectations should run high. Non suburb kids don't have what we have. As a student I slacked off a lot, and in the summer I truly regretted it because I wasted such a valuable asset: true public education. Tons of kids don't have books, resources, teachers, or even systems to design them to succeed while my AP teachers would have jumped at the chance had I signaled for help, or even signaled interest. These past thoughts have sounded so unlike my personality I'm starting to think I'm dying or something...damn.
All college kids are sad to leave home though, I know that. I guess the reason why I think I'm so special to blog about my experience is because most kids grow up with one home, especially in the suburbs. They can recall early childhood memories in the same area over and over. I can't. My childhood memories include my mom walking me to daycare so she could go to college, moving, and subways screams in Toronto or long bus rides in Montana. None of that stuff I could ever claim to be mine. The kids there wouldn't have accepted if I said "Wow, I'm definitely a Thunder Bay kid." I only lived 4 years there, I don't know shit about how those kids really live or even what living in the city is like. Even stating that would be insulting to the people's homes themselves. Its a false reality to even being to think that being born in Thunder Bay, Wolf Point, Toronto, etc defines a large part of my personality consciously.
Bloomington is different though. I attended all of middle school at Olson and all of high school at Jefferson. I made many friends. I played basketball, ran cross country and track, and learned Debate here. I can recall bored Friday nights at a friends, or going to school everyday in the same area. It's my home. The things I've done here define who I am. I found it, and to leave now is so depressing because I can't just cut it off like I did in the past. I'm too old, I have all the great times of going to state in basketball or those late nights researching or all my friends stuck in my head. You can't detach yourself from the things that make you who you are, and leaving to the University of Iowa means I'll be gone from Jefferson, and from home. I loved that school more than any public building in the world. Classes were a drag, but I experienced them there. There were my classes, my friends, my activities, and it was my school, which is so important to a kid who had to move frequently without a lot to hold onto. In Bloomington I had control of my life, my mom put me in a place where I was secure. The walks around 102nd and bike rides around the city everyday assured me that this was my place. I wasn't leaving, and I'm more thankful for that than I ever have been in my life.
Most people have home in their hearts, true. Its corny, but when I leave to Iowa I'll carry all the great times, challenges, and experiences that I found chillin' in the suburbs because to me that occurred in my home, because after all was said and done, I always knew I had an open invitation to the last house before Bloomington Covenant church and Brookside fields on W. 102nd St. So when I leave for Iowa City, that will all change, but hopefully Bloomington will take me and give me refuge when I occasionally return and remind me of a faithful sanctuary after a life of nomadic origins.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Psychoanalysis Paper on Cat's Cradle
Devin Long
Ms. Boeser
College Writing Period 2
25 January 2010
Cat’s Cradle: Object of Desire
Kurt Vonnegut displays a colloquial writing style, but underneath the simplistic surfaces of motives and character interaction exists available criticism. Why does Bokonon want to create a utopia? Why is Bokononism so important? Why does John want to write a book about Hiroshima? What is the motive for the creation of ice-nine? These questions pry deep into the motives of how the characters and Vonnegut himself perceive the world. Jacques Lacan, a famous psychoanalyst, believes that the grounded thought of “desire” deals with humans interacting through socially constructed fantasies and cultural ideology. In order for a social reality to continue, humans must have something to desire for the sake of desiring. Humans are afraid to actually capture what they say they want because they want to keep the object an impossibility (Felluga). Through this explanation, a Lacanian criticism of the novel explains how each character’s desire is flawed and brings implications that appear in the story. These come in the forms of John’s attempt to learn more about Hiroshima, utopianism from Bokonon, as well as militarism.
John’s attempt to create a book about Hiroshima is a form of an impossible desire and a project through social construction that is maintained until the end of the novel. While searching for a perfect story of Hiroshima, John attempts to learn as much raw information about it in order to create the story. This grasp of knowledge falls into a criticism of psychoanalysis through misrepresentation of “the Other”, or the unconscious part of the mind (Unconscious). John realizes throughout the novel that the fate of the world is constructed around Bokononism, San Lorenzo and ice-nine, the destructive substance Felix Hoenikker had created. John comes close into finding “the Other” through experience, rather than language. John and Mona come up a week after the ice-nine was released and he talks about how The Book of Knowledge answers basic questions for kids to explain science, but John feels that he knows more than the authors of that book now because he has seen the pain and destruction of the planet. He’s experienced it. John is now “the Other” to the current social system that we live in because nobody else can relate to his feeling of hopelessness and total decimation of planet Earth (Vonnegut 261). The last chapter proves how John incorporates his thought process into the novel because the reader learns that John’s book on Hiroshima is really Cat’s Cradle, and Vonnegut and John can be interpreted as the same person. By using this technique, Vonnegut disrupts the current social order because he doesn’t claim to know the impossible because he is “the Other.” This is true because the book that John wrote shares his experience of advanced warfare rather than simple data that other research books use. Therefore, John’s desire of the novel is viewed as a social fantasy until the end of the novel when we see the novel was John’s direct experience.
The source of Bokononism stems from a false desire of an attempt at creating a utopia. Bokonon first begins on a stranded island where he attempts to create the first utopia, but fails because his desire can never be fulfilled. This leads him to create Bokononism, where he starts a San Lorenzan religious movement that John eventually follows. This becomes problematic because Bokonon claims “Anyone who cannot understand how useful a religion based on lies can be will not understand this book either" (Vonnegut 80). Bokonon lives by a philosophy taught by a muscle builder who believed that muscles could be built by "pitting one set of muscles against another" (Vonnegut 102). In a similar fashion, Bokonon uses his holy reputation and outlawed religion in order to give the people of San Lorenzo desire to defeat the evil that McCabe perpetually demonstrates, albeit voluntarily. This further proves that the desire of living life as a Bokononist is a utopia structured by Bokonon because of his lies. Additionally, the attempt to live as a Bokononist means that the person is distanced farther away from Bokonon in psychoanalysis because he attempts to know “the Other” and become perfect through a construction of a religious utopia (Vonnegut). Yannis Stavrakakis, a Lacanian scholar, comments on the utopia saying, “Every utopian fantasy produces its reverse and calls for its elimination. Put another way, the beatific side of fantasy is coupled in utopian constructions with a horrific side, a paranoid need for a stigmatised scapegoat” (Stavrakakis). This is shown in the novel as rising tensions come between Bokononism and Christianity. This division is shown in the social interaction between the two religions in the scene with “Papa’s” rejection of Dr. Humana because he’s a "dirty Christian" while John and Hoenikker are true Bokononists (Vonnegut 218). The idea of the perfect utopia through Bokononism on the island of San Lorenzo creates massive violence and the end of the world. The means of destroying the world is caused by an air-show to destroy the "scapegoats of utopia" including Marx, Hitler, Mussolini and Moa. This releases the ice-nine for violent and negative purposes. This event demonstrates how the attempt at a utopia is used to scapegoat and exterminate anyone who is deemed imperfect, but the violent aggression may backfire as shown by the eventual demise of the human race in the novel.
Militarism and nuclear force is another driving motivator for the finding the object of desire in the story. Felix Hoenikker, the creator of the atomic bomb, works through the faulty social order because his desire of controlling the ice-nine is flawed and draws serious consequences. By creating the bomb, Felix Hoenikker’s reliance on only scientific data ties into the criticism of Lacan because it supports the social fantasies that Felix is subjected to because he doesn’t attempt to try and see the effects of the weapon, but rather scientifically calculate it using the current data he had. The “object petit a” as described by Lacan, or the object of desire never truly becomes realized by Felix because he doesn’t know it’s destructive tendencies (Felluga). He is blind to this type of knowledge as proven by the creation of the atomic bomb when another scientist said “Science has now known sin." Hoenikker replies, "what is sin?" (Vonnegut 17). Vonnegut’s mastery of the satirical humor of the arms race turns into another disruption of the social order because he eventually blows up the world, demonstrating the sins of science and the previously unconscious part of the mind that the ice-nine contained. Not only did Felix create the atomic bomb for the progression of science and warfare, but the idea of ice-nine was apparently rooted it a war general's question on how to rid the world of mud. Felix is able to create this advancement, and, byronically, he invents another way to destroy the world. Once again, his scientific genius has the capability to destroy the world. Ironically enough, the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki took approximately 100,000 civilians, yet it is estimated that 500,000 Americans would have been killed if the war had continued (Roizen). Although the numbers present a justifiable reason to deploy the bomb, it still displays the immoral decision of taking lives, when it was in the president's power to end the war peacefully.
Psychoanalysts such as Jaques Lacan believe that in order for a social order to continue, there must be a constant desire for something. Throughout Kurt Vonnegut's novel Cat's Cradle, each character demonstrates this desire. John begins the novel wishing to increase the public's knowledge of the atomic bomb and the day it was dropped. His desire brings him through ordeals in the novel and this desire is never completely achieved. Bokonon's desire for a utopian society is a wish that is never completely realized either. Finally, the militarism and the satire of militarism in the novel results in a final desire for characters such as Felix Hoenikker. Although Vonnegut's world view seems dismal, Cat's Cradle is a masterfully written novel that demonstrates Lacan's ideals seamlessly.
Works Cited
Felluga, Dino. "Modules on Lacan: On Desire." Introductory Guide to Critical Theory. 13 June 2002. Purdue U. 25 January 2010.
Roizen, Brian. "Was the use of the atomic bomb moral?" Philosophy Paradise, 2006. Web. 26 January 2010.
Stavrakakis, Yannis. “Lacan and the Political” n.d. 25 January 2010.
"The Unconscious Mind." The Spiritual Nature of Life, n.d. Web. 26 January 2010.
Vonnegut, Kurt. Cat's Cradle. New York: The Dial Press, 1963. Print.
Ms. Boeser
College Writing Period 2
25 January 2010
Cat’s Cradle: Object of Desire
Kurt Vonnegut displays a colloquial writing style, but underneath the simplistic surfaces of motives and character interaction exists available criticism. Why does Bokonon want to create a utopia? Why is Bokononism so important? Why does John want to write a book about Hiroshima? What is the motive for the creation of ice-nine? These questions pry deep into the motives of how the characters and Vonnegut himself perceive the world. Jacques Lacan, a famous psychoanalyst, believes that the grounded thought of “desire” deals with humans interacting through socially constructed fantasies and cultural ideology. In order for a social reality to continue, humans must have something to desire for the sake of desiring. Humans are afraid to actually capture what they say they want because they want to keep the object an impossibility (Felluga). Through this explanation, a Lacanian criticism of the novel explains how each character’s desire is flawed and brings implications that appear in the story. These come in the forms of John’s attempt to learn more about Hiroshima, utopianism from Bokonon, as well as militarism.
John’s attempt to create a book about Hiroshima is a form of an impossible desire and a project through social construction that is maintained until the end of the novel. While searching for a perfect story of Hiroshima, John attempts to learn as much raw information about it in order to create the story. This grasp of knowledge falls into a criticism of psychoanalysis through misrepresentation of “the Other”, or the unconscious part of the mind (Unconscious). John realizes throughout the novel that the fate of the world is constructed around Bokononism, San Lorenzo and ice-nine, the destructive substance Felix Hoenikker had created. John comes close into finding “the Other” through experience, rather than language. John and Mona come up a week after the ice-nine was released and he talks about how The Book of Knowledge answers basic questions for kids to explain science, but John feels that he knows more than the authors of that book now because he has seen the pain and destruction of the planet. He’s experienced it. John is now “the Other” to the current social system that we live in because nobody else can relate to his feeling of hopelessness and total decimation of planet Earth (Vonnegut 261). The last chapter proves how John incorporates his thought process into the novel because the reader learns that John’s book on Hiroshima is really Cat’s Cradle, and Vonnegut and John can be interpreted as the same person. By using this technique, Vonnegut disrupts the current social order because he doesn’t claim to know the impossible because he is “the Other.” This is true because the book that John wrote shares his experience of advanced warfare rather than simple data that other research books use. Therefore, John’s desire of the novel is viewed as a social fantasy until the end of the novel when we see the novel was John’s direct experience.
The source of Bokononism stems from a false desire of an attempt at creating a utopia. Bokonon first begins on a stranded island where he attempts to create the first utopia, but fails because his desire can never be fulfilled. This leads him to create Bokononism, where he starts a San Lorenzan religious movement that John eventually follows. This becomes problematic because Bokonon claims “Anyone who cannot understand how useful a religion based on lies can be will not understand this book either" (Vonnegut 80). Bokonon lives by a philosophy taught by a muscle builder who believed that muscles could be built by "pitting one set of muscles against another" (Vonnegut 102). In a similar fashion, Bokonon uses his holy reputation and outlawed religion in order to give the people of San Lorenzo desire to defeat the evil that McCabe perpetually demonstrates, albeit voluntarily. This further proves that the desire of living life as a Bokononist is a utopia structured by Bokonon because of his lies. Additionally, the attempt to live as a Bokononist means that the person is distanced farther away from Bokonon in psychoanalysis because he attempts to know “the Other” and become perfect through a construction of a religious utopia (Vonnegut). Yannis Stavrakakis, a Lacanian scholar, comments on the utopia saying, “Every utopian fantasy produces its reverse and calls for its elimination. Put another way, the beatific side of fantasy is coupled in utopian constructions with a horrific side, a paranoid need for a stigmatised scapegoat” (Stavrakakis). This is shown in the novel as rising tensions come between Bokononism and Christianity. This division is shown in the social interaction between the two religions in the scene with “Papa’s” rejection of Dr. Humana because he’s a "dirty Christian" while John and Hoenikker are true Bokononists (Vonnegut 218). The idea of the perfect utopia through Bokononism on the island of San Lorenzo creates massive violence and the end of the world. The means of destroying the world is caused by an air-show to destroy the "scapegoats of utopia" including Marx, Hitler, Mussolini and Moa. This releases the ice-nine for violent and negative purposes. This event demonstrates how the attempt at a utopia is used to scapegoat and exterminate anyone who is deemed imperfect, but the violent aggression may backfire as shown by the eventual demise of the human race in the novel.
Militarism and nuclear force is another driving motivator for the finding the object of desire in the story. Felix Hoenikker, the creator of the atomic bomb, works through the faulty social order because his desire of controlling the ice-nine is flawed and draws serious consequences. By creating the bomb, Felix Hoenikker’s reliance on only scientific data ties into the criticism of Lacan because it supports the social fantasies that Felix is subjected to because he doesn’t attempt to try and see the effects of the weapon, but rather scientifically calculate it using the current data he had. The “object petit a” as described by Lacan, or the object of desire never truly becomes realized by Felix because he doesn’t know it’s destructive tendencies (Felluga). He is blind to this type of knowledge as proven by the creation of the atomic bomb when another scientist said “Science has now known sin." Hoenikker replies, "what is sin?" (Vonnegut 17). Vonnegut’s mastery of the satirical humor of the arms race turns into another disruption of the social order because he eventually blows up the world, demonstrating the sins of science and the previously unconscious part of the mind that the ice-nine contained. Not only did Felix create the atomic bomb for the progression of science and warfare, but the idea of ice-nine was apparently rooted it a war general's question on how to rid the world of mud. Felix is able to create this advancement, and, byronically, he invents another way to destroy the world. Once again, his scientific genius has the capability to destroy the world. Ironically enough, the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki took approximately 100,000 civilians, yet it is estimated that 500,000 Americans would have been killed if the war had continued (Roizen). Although the numbers present a justifiable reason to deploy the bomb, it still displays the immoral decision of taking lives, when it was in the president's power to end the war peacefully.
Psychoanalysts such as Jaques Lacan believe that in order for a social order to continue, there must be a constant desire for something. Throughout Kurt Vonnegut's novel Cat's Cradle, each character demonstrates this desire. John begins the novel wishing to increase the public's knowledge of the atomic bomb and the day it was dropped. His desire brings him through ordeals in the novel and this desire is never completely achieved. Bokonon's desire for a utopian society is a wish that is never completely realized either. Finally, the militarism and the satire of militarism in the novel results in a final desire for characters such as Felix Hoenikker. Although Vonnegut's world view seems dismal, Cat's Cradle is a masterfully written novel that demonstrates Lacan's ideals seamlessly.
Works Cited
Felluga, Dino. "Modules on Lacan: On Desire." Introductory Guide to Critical Theory. 13 June 2002. Purdue U. 25 January 2010.
Roizen, Brian. "Was the use of the atomic bomb moral?" Philosophy Paradise, 2006. Web. 26 January 2010.
Stavrakakis, Yannis. “Lacan and the Political” n.d. 25 January 2010.
"The Unconscious Mind." The Spiritual Nature of Life, n.d. Web. 26 January 2010.
Vonnegut, Kurt. Cat's Cradle. New York: The Dial Press, 1963. Print.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Theft
Entered the institution with dreams of happiness and innocence
All I accept was the vengeance and disastrous
Half conscious and I'm feeling lonely and regretful
I gaze at Calyspo's eyes with attention set full
Many nights evaporated and I never embraced
the thoughts and insecurities keeping her in place
I grew older, less wise and more active
Conversing about life in a suburban nature
Perhaps missing lessons of when
I should tell the girl what itd mean
to live with her in a world rid of tragedy
locked down in the gaze of innocence
We parted ways and I kept the smile in a box
Theft swept her in the sea as she sailed on
Gin no longer the sin in the pirate's oversight
They all stole her life overnight
Not the villians but their jokes, profession in theft
as she cries they leave for the short lived tale
Hit by the thorns I bleed my misplaced bride
Inside the veins of the good times we ever had
Come across the old photos of you and I, when we tried
I stared and imagine the tragic decisions
Thin reality came and committed theft
and left, never to hep, we confront, what I need from you
All I accept was the vengeance and disastrous
Half conscious and I'm feeling lonely and regretful
I gaze at Calyspo's eyes with attention set full
Many nights evaporated and I never embraced
the thoughts and insecurities keeping her in place
I grew older, less wise and more active
Conversing about life in a suburban nature
Perhaps missing lessons of when
I should tell the girl what itd mean
to live with her in a world rid of tragedy
locked down in the gaze of innocence
We parted ways and I kept the smile in a box
Theft swept her in the sea as she sailed on
Gin no longer the sin in the pirate's oversight
They all stole her life overnight
Not the villians but their jokes, profession in theft
as she cries they leave for the short lived tale
Hit by the thorns I bleed my misplaced bride
Inside the veins of the good times we ever had
Come across the old photos of you and I, when we tried
I stared and imagine the tragic decisions
Thin reality came and committed theft
and left, never to hep, we confront, what I need from you
Parasites
We've done our research and we're good kids
It's what we were promised
I just want what I came for
Watch, see that shady man?
Yeah, he won't come here anytime soon
They, they wait from to create
the perfect thing they follow blindly
Boy if you saw you'd think what a sight
seeing all these visible moving parasites
Listen, watch, obey, preform
We'll all be fine if you keep time
Look at the men, they've got the plan
To make sure we never ever fall behind
It's what we were promised
I just want what I came for
Watch, see that shady man?
Yeah, he won't come here anytime soon
They, they wait from to create
the perfect thing they follow blindly
Boy if you saw you'd think what a sight
seeing all these visible moving parasites
Listen, watch, obey, preform
We'll all be fine if you keep time
Look at the men, they've got the plan
To make sure we never ever fall behind
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sounds and Whispers
Hey, hear me
I'm gonna be the voice of reason
Time, it shows
That you can't fend off the sounds and whispers
(So I sit here, ready to embark on the journey to
understand the dynamics between
you and me, locked in a formula of chemistry)
(Voice stuff)
I hear echoes, from the distilled sounds
Sway back through the air, you can hear if you need
My voice, it carries on and on through space
To reach you, where you pocket and run
(Chorus)
The world, combined of balance and equations
But feelings of you are unexplained
You aren't near, but I whisper in the night to
communicate the conyed thoughts between,
galaxies, torn apart in the solar sea
Look, at me
the timing at aim may never be the same
Sounds, convey
all I need dear, though we aren't near
(Chorus)
I'll be, the perfect physician so
I could find the variable to know
Why I, feel the equation's unequal
as you travel and I remain
But now, you return to the first we met and
you say "no control, just let go, sound it out."
I'm gonna be the voice of reason
Time, it shows
That you can't fend off the sounds and whispers
(So I sit here, ready to embark on the journey to
understand the dynamics between
you and me, locked in a formula of chemistry)
(Voice stuff)
I hear echoes, from the distilled sounds
Sway back through the air, you can hear if you need
My voice, it carries on and on through space
To reach you, where you pocket and run
(Chorus)
The world, combined of balance and equations
But feelings of you are unexplained
You aren't near, but I whisper in the night to
communicate the conyed thoughts between,
galaxies, torn apart in the solar sea
Look, at me
the timing at aim may never be the same
Sounds, convey
all I need dear, though we aren't near
(Chorus)
I'll be, the perfect physician so
I could find the variable to know
Why I, feel the equation's unequal
as you travel and I remain
But now, you return to the first we met and
you say "no control, just let go, sound it out."
Beyond The Trench
The youth begins, as he walks off the bus
the dust kicks in, and blinds him
So he can't see, the poverty
So he can't live, in the trenches
So free and small, but he finds the right way
so he goes there, he knows its
The place is light, the wide large space
The the place is warm, the place is bright
The boy sees her, his poor dear mother
The face is long, she hides it
So she holds him, shields him hard
So he won't face, life in the trench
Years have gone, he's grown up soft
So he's sheltered, never hurt
The man is gone, not peaceful
The boy can't feel, the feeling
The pressures end, don't pretend
The kids don't know, the trenches
So keep them safe, blind and well
So they don't see, those trenches
the dust kicks in, and blinds him
So he can't see, the poverty
So he can't live, in the trenches
So free and small, but he finds the right way
so he goes there, he knows its
The place is light, the wide large space
The the place is warm, the place is bright
The boy sees her, his poor dear mother
The face is long, she hides it
So she holds him, shields him hard
So he won't face, life in the trench
Years have gone, he's grown up soft
So he's sheltered, never hurt
The man is gone, not peaceful
The boy can't feel, the feeling
The pressures end, don't pretend
The kids don't know, the trenches
So keep them safe, blind and well
So they don't see, those trenches
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