Six Degrees to President Obama

When dealing with six degrees of separation it is hard to think of yourself as connected to someone you have never met. This idea though fascinating also sounds like a person’s boredom getting the better of them. So six degrees of separation, is it legit or is it not? Could it be less than six degrees or is it just the luck of the draw and whom you know? If you know people who are famous it is easier to make connections because celebrities have a wide network of relationships. Or is it that the people celebrities know are in the public eye and more people know about them so it easier to connect to them? I can connect myself to more than a couple of sixties and seventies famous musicians such as The Beatles, Aretha Franklin, The Doors, The Turtles, even Elvis. But that is all through one person that I know making my connections much smaller in degree than others.
When my brother moved to Berkeley to attend college, I had an idea of the eclectic characters he would meet over the years. Though it never struck me that I would be able to connect myself to President Obama through one of his acquaintances he met while living in the dorms. Most people know who William Hung is if they are familiar with the show American Idol. He is an upbeat student from Berkeley that auditioned for the show a few years back, and though he did not make it to the finals, he touched the hearts of millions of Americans with his wacky singing style, and his loveable personality. He got to know the judges on the show Paula Abdule, Randy Jackson, and Simon Cowell. These three famous musical personnel have hundreds of connections to famous actors, musicians, and even politician.
Paula Abdule—a singer and dancer from the eighties and nineties—spend much of her time in the spotlight rubbing elbows with all sorts of famous people. Madonna, perhaps the most famous of all women singers knew Paula, which in terms of six degrees of separation connects William Hung to Madonna through Paula Abdule.
Madonna toured the world forming relationships with people in every country. She preformed countless times, and made guest appearance on many television shows. One connection she has is Oprah. Oprah the talk show host, and one of the riches people in the world had Madonna on her talk show in September of this year. Their ideas on politics were discussed and through now through the idea of six degrees of separation Oprah knows Madonna, who has knows Paula Abdule for years, who knows William Hung from his audition on American Idol making William connected to Oprah.
Oprah is a major supporter of Barack Obama, and made her voice heard though out the race for presidency. She introduced herself to Senator Obama and quickly became a large help in his campaign. And yes once again through six degrees of separation Obama knows Oprah through her help on his campaign trail, who knows Madonna when she was on her talk show in September, who knows Paula Abdule from their careers as musicians in the eighties and nineties, who knows William Hung from his audition for American Idol in 2003.
Now how is this all connected to me? Well my brother lived in the dorms at Berkeley. There he met a girl who invited him over to a party at her house. There she introduced my brother to one of her friends a Mr. William Hung. They both hung out and became acquaintances of one another socializing at their friend’s house and singing karaoke. So in the end I know my brother from being siblings, who knows William Hung from school, who knows Paula Abdule from his audition on American Idol, who knows Madonna though their music careers in the eighties and nineties, who knows Oprah and being a guest on her talk show, who knows President Obama from her support of his race for the presidency making me connected to our new and first African American President!
The idea that this could work for everyone makes it mind-boggling. Once one connection is made it is hard to stop. There are connections everywhere. The people you know might just know more than you think or know they know. And with a little bit of conversation and time taken out to make a connection with someone, the connections will soon become endless.

Dreaming of Reality

Four weeks ago I was letting my dogs out in the morning, barefooted and a little groggy, when all of a sudden my foot started to burn. I sat down and looked at the bottom of it and there was a juicy yellow and black smudge which resembled a bee. I quickly wiped away the residue of the now deceased bee and pulled out the venomous stinger. I've never been allergic to bee's or anything really, and I thought that this would just be an extremely annoying itchy bump on the bottom of my foot. Well that would have been nice, but it didn't happen that was, and I became allergic, and then blah blah blah long story short, it messed me up pretty good for the past month.
So where this story is going is; last night while dreaming I was enjoying a sunny day at the beach, the wind was light, the waves were lulling, and the sand was soft as silk. Then BAM something happened and I literally woke up with the worst pain in my foot as if I had been stung again. I panicked sitting straight up, and holding on to my foot like it was about to fall off. My foot was burning again in the same spot, but quickly subsided so that I could fall back asleep and enjoy the rest of my time at the ocean.
What a cruel joke my mind and foot were playing on me! It was as if my subconscious was using my pain against me. I wonder what I did to up set it so?

It's a Mad Mad Chapter, But NOT the Mad Hatter's Chapter

My favorite chapter in Alice and Wonderland is Pig and Pepper. And simply because it is MAD!!! So the title doesn't have MAD in it, and doesn't have the Mad Hatter, it is still so curious. Alice doesn't want to be mad, or have others consider her mad, but she just can't help but feel mad because of the incredible vivid dream she is creating as she speaks to the Cheshire Cat of not being mad. In fact that is curious, because she is saying she is not mad, and she is dreaming others are saying she is mad, and she has this ability to control what these other characters are saying,and yet she is still convinced she is mad! It is as if she is in a nightmare with colors, love, hate, desire, knowledge, passion, adulthood, and childhood. Even though she cannot accept herself as ALICE. She is who she is, but does not feel that.

dreaming gave me a headache

As I started to drift off into dreamland, I had no idea what was going to take place in my subconscious in the passing hours.

It all started out in a home, which looked nothing like my parents home in California, but it felt as though it was. I was not me, but a little girl jumping rope in the living room with hardwood floors and big open windows. The television was on, and I paying little attention to the breaking news. As I skipped to the side door to go out into the driveway to continue jumping rope, I hear from the news caster "Killer on the loose, please take precaution and make sure all children are in your site at all times." This was interesting, I remember thinking, but jumping rope was just that much more entertaining at the time. I stepped outside and looked down the driveway. To my surprise a man in dark clothing was walking up the driveway that was exactly the same driveway at my parents home. I got scared and tried to run inside the house, but he grabbed my shoulder with icy hands and turned my around. He had a knife in his hand that I wrestled away from him and started to stab him in his mouth that was wide open as if he was a snake dislocating his jaw to swallow me whole. But the knife transformed into a butter knife, and became limb causing no damage to the man holding me. He finally grabbed my hand with the impotent knife and said, "Now it's your turn." Lifting the knife above his head, I woke up! My head was pounding, and I felt very sick. I took myself to the bathroom got a glass of water, and decided to fall back asleep.

Then poof! I was back in the same dream, but this time I wasn't the little girl, but the mother, seeing my daughter dead outside the door. I quickly grabbed for the phone and dialed 911. The voice on the other end told me to lock the door, and turn on the TV. She said that there would be information that I needed to fallow, because the police would not be able to get to the house for a little while due to the fact that this family lived a significant way outside of town. I quickly reached for the remote turned on the TV and the only thing to show up with a blue screen with the number 75 white. I picked up my son, and placed him in a back room with a windows everywhere and a one door. "Now stay in here, and you know the way out if you have to leave." I told him as I locked the door behind me leaving him in the room. I ran to lock the door when it opened and the killer was there. "Now it's your turn," he said again. And I woke up! again with a splitting headache. So I got some Advil this time and drank another glass of water, and tried to go back to sleep.

It took a while this time to fall back asleep, due to the fact of the vivid images in my head from my nightmare. But finally I fell back asleep, and POOF! I was in the dream again! But this time I was the son in the glass room. In my mind I had the images of my mother being murdered and me shutting the door. I remembered she told me I knew the way out if I needed to leave, and I opened a trap door in the floor and crawled down under a porch with very cold and fine dirt, that I started to cover my body in. Then I had a sickening feeling that the killer would fine me there and I crawled to yet another porch that had the same dirt that I covered myself in again. As I got close to being fully covered, I had the same feeling that the killer would fine me and that I needed to run down the hill to the neighbors. As I started to run, the land opened up and it was a beautiful meadow, with butterflies, wildflowers, and blossoming trees. I remember feeling very peaceful as I made my way to the neighbors house just in sight. Then I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, and I was whipped around. He was the most hideous looking demon with dim yellow eyes, and gray skin that wrinkled, his breath was sticky on my face as he said, "Now it's your turn to die." Right as he lifted his hand he transformed into a man with a feeling of holiness, that was in my sight for a split second and then I woke up again! And this time my eyes were cramped shut, and my headache was worse than ever. I felt my forehead and it was burning and actually pulsing. My eyes finally stopped cramping and I could see again.

I didn't fall back asleep, I opted to stay away because of the concerned of what might happen next. It was such a strange and in depth dream that I was not sure what to make of it. The whole day it consumed my thoughts with the headache lingering in my third eye, and by the next night, I was still worried to fall asleep, but curious as to what might happen. I let myself drift away into dreamland once more. The next morning I woke up with a blank slate, no recollection of a dream, and just the painful memory of my headache.

The Struggles of Growing Up

Throughout Alice in Wonderland there is a constant struggle internally as well as externally with Alice and growing up. She has the idea in her head that growing up is wonderful and the older one aquires more knowledge. But then fights the idea of growing up because she doesn't want to miss out on her childhood. Her complex thoughts about the whole ordeal is quite intelegent in itself and yet she doesn't see the intellegence she already possesses.
Than there's the whole struggle she is gowing through with her physical size. One minute she's too big then she's too small and then she's perfect and then she's entirely too big even to be in a house. Her struggle with her size Alice associates with adulthood as well as the mind and knowledge. In Alice's mind size is just as much a part of growing up as knowledge.
We all might have thought this way when we were children. Once we surpassed someone in height that meant superioroty over their small stature. Perhaps it's becaise we can physically see and experience the body growing easier than seeing the internal mental growth of our peer's minds. It's a battle between sizes that adulthood and childhood are associated with in poor little Alice's mind-or could it be poor old Alice?

my book and heart shall never part

We "answered" the question, "what is a child?" And even though everyone came up with a different answer, there is no right answer as we all know. And after seeing the movie on Thursday it only provoked more questions, for me as least. This may seem a bit demented or perhaps uncalled for, and before asking this I have to make clear that it's all based around the question "what is a child?" And not meaning the physical younger human being, but the idea of a "child."

Ok now that I've explained myself here's my question: "Is a child expendable?" Are children just figments of our imagination? Creating a hope in the adult mind of innocence, and guilt free conscience? Are children a one time only thing, that is tainted after their first experience outside the mothers womb? And is a child even a child inside the mother or is it just a soul-anima-of the mother that is carring it, waiting to bring a miniture human into an adult world?

Whatever the answer may be, it is hard to grasp the concept of a child outside of what I have grown up thinking. Or maybe it is just that I haven't thought outside of my prior knowlegde of a child, and doven deeper into the quesiton more psychologically, or methophorically, rather than physically.

Even Munchkins are Faking it

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYSPIZk1egc

I don't know how to make the video actually appear in the blog. it might do it once i hit publish but i don't know! if anyone can help me that would be nice.

anywho! this commercial is great. it is the Munchkins of The Wizard of Oz, faking their voices.

Exam Notes

Little Mermaid
Little Red Riding Hood
Cinderella
Hansel & Gretel
Beauty & the Beast
Sleeping Beauty
Snow White
Rapunzel
East & West
Blue Beard
Juniper Tree

The Prank Queen is an archetypal in Finnegan's Wake
Portmanteau- multiple level word i.e. SMOG-fog + smoke = smog
Privileged numbers of fairy tales- 3, 7
333 Type tale - Little Red
collective unconscious manifests itself as archetypes
"If you're really crafty you'll get them both" - The Wolf in Little Red
3 parts of universal quest- separation, initiation, myth
Triple Goddess- mother, maiden, crone
Everything is displaced no such thing as original
To bow at someone- recognition of the divine
Aladdin- Genie is Mythology
Grimm's Cinderella - Ashgirl
East & West, Hedge Hog, and B&B is search for missing husband motif
Mother Daughter Duo- Demeter & Persephone
Significance of Blue in Blue Beards beard- everything
Archetype for talking animal- The Golden Ass
Why Cupid wakes up- drop of hot oil
Already knows everything needs to know - Wordsworth
Beauty & the Beast came from Cupid & Psyche
Blue Beard is against female curiosity
Which Grimm story has a witch in it? Hansel & Gretel
Who wanted to marry Little Red? Charles Dickens
First phrase to open a fairy tale? Once upon a time...

What really happened to the town of Bodie, California?

In the Ghosttown of Bodie, California there was once a prosperous gold mine that gave the town life. For years miners came from all over the country with gold fever and the dream of wealth and living the good life in the golden state.

As the town grew in size so did its residences egos, and the bad reputation of the town. Dangerous men became the normal bystanders on the dusty roads of this tiny town tucked in the Eastern Sierra Mountain Range close to the Nevada border.

The mines produced over $34 million dollars in gold, and at it's largest had a population of 7-8000 individuals running wild between the church, school house, and bar.

Now this sounds like many of the old mining ghosttowns that are scattered throughout the west. But there's something disturbing about Bodie, something that leaves visitors questinoning when the view the town from outside the locked doors, and perring in barred windows.

This once prosporious town now lays still, but will all the memories of the inhabitants that onces dwwelled in the mysterious valley that seemed to have just up and left in the middle of a meal around the dinning room tabel, having a drink at the bar, and even filing mail to be sent out of the town-perhaps to loved ones in Cincinnati, or a morgage broker in San Francisco. But for whatever reason, the down was diserted! Some speculate that it was the mine going dry, but that would be no reason to leave food on the tables, and a drink at the bar! What could have possibly happened in Bodie to make its residences leave all their belongings behind with hot plates full of food and perfectlly good wiskey behind the bar?

If you wish to visit this creep old town, all you have to do is head to the eastern art of California, along highway 395 outside of Bridgeport, and turn east at the sign. There you will come to the skeleton of a town once known throughout the west. And perhaps figure out what really happened to all the residences.

The Express: The Earnie Davis Story

So There's a movie coming out about Ernie Davis, whose obituary Jill read in class the other day for her displaced fairy tale. Check out the trailer. It looks like it could be a good movie with qualities that hold true to the displaced fairy tale of Cinderella.

http://www.theexpressmovie.com/site.html#/videos/

the true moral

If you focus only on the beauty of a woman,
you're nothing but a dull and materialistic human,
Look at woman, but don't forget
what lies within is much more legit.

Appearance fades like the sun at sundown,
but knowledge lingers like the world is round,
Focus too much on yourself and your beauty
And no longer will anyone make you their duty.

Love for oneself and another
will leave you with many a sister and brother
For they do not need to be impressed
especially with the way you're ridiculously dressed.

Be true to yourself
And you'll have more than material wealth
Be strong and humerus
But remember never to boisterous.
For there are moments when less is more
And more can turn into a giant snore.

what is...

What is a child? Well there is a literal definition, but that just does not seem like the kind of answer that would keep interest, because we all know what a child is. Perhaps a child is someone with no worries, or cares in the world. But then again children care about many things, and on the rare occasion worry about the potential trouble they will get into if their parents find out about undesirable acts they have engaged themselves in. Perhaps a child is someone that is oblivious to the negatives in the world around them? But then again some people we consider adults are just as, it not more, oblivious. I think I got it! A child is a soul that believes in the unbelievable, that believes in magic, and what could never be possible actually can be. A child is a soul that does not stop to think hum...this does not make sense because of certain things I have been told just simply are not supposed to make sense. A child makes sense out of anything they want to make sense out of. That is a child. There is no age involved in my mind.

What is a book? A book is a generator for the mind, a place to go for any occasion, providing comfort and knowledge. Books are a portal to the deep inner minds of others, that trigger the readers’ inner mind to think either outside their box, or even parts inside the box that the reader hasn’t thought too much about.

What is nature? Could nature be the essence of all imagination? Well at least in my life, it is. All inspiration for anything in this world has come from something in nature. Nature is the first and the best at creating stories, and letting imagination run wild. Things humans cannot even come up with in the depths of their mind, nature has created out of atoms we as humans cannot see without some form of invention—that was created from the mind of someone who saw something in nature that helped them with their invention. Magnifying something is not a human creation, it is natural, water can magnify fish to make them look like huge sea monsters, when in reality they are just minnows. Nature helps create the imagination in a child that can be put into a book, that can eventually provoke more thought and more imagination.

Displaced Fairy Tale

Displaced Fairy Tale

“You’re test did come back positive and yes you are pregnant with twins, Jane.”
“Oh, well can I have an abortion?” Jane asks the doctor sitting across from her in the stark-white room.
“You are further along in your term that makes it illegal to have an abortion in this state.”
Jane left the doctor’s office with extremely low spirits that cold afternoon. This wasn’t how she had planned on spending her senior year of high school. She was 17 and a heavy partier. She spent her time using different drugs, being resentful to her parents, and skipping classes to hang out with her boyfriend who was much older than she.
As she walked down the sidewalk a skinny well-dressed silver haired old woman walked up to her.
“What’s wrong my dear child?” The old lady said in a soothing voice.
“Well, I just found out I’m pregnant with twins, but I’m too far along in my term to have an abortion.” Jane angrily kicked at the ground while speaking to the old woman.
“Oh, dear, why would you ever want to kill such a precious blessing?”
“I’m in no position to have a kid, let alone two.”
“Well I’ll tell you what. I’ll help you along with your pregnancy, help deliver the babies and then in retune you give me the children once they are born. And I will take care of them and love them, and be the mother you can’t be at the time.” Jane could not believe the luck she had just run into! She agreed to give the babies to the helpful elderly lady and for the next three months she spent her time after school with the lady preparing for the birth of the twins. Jane’s parents were not involved nor did they want to be. They had disowned their daughter a year before her getting pregnant because of her excessive drug and alcohol abuse.

Finally the big day came and on a cold morning in March Jane gave birth to a baby boy the old woman named Donny and a little girl she called Marie. They were beautiful blond haired blue-eyed babies with rosy red cheeks. When Jane laid eyes on the beautiful babies she had no emotional connection to them what so ever. She was ready to hand them over and leave the house to get back to her drugs and partying. And that is just what happened.
“Alright Jane, it is time for you to leave.” The old lady announced, once Jane was rested up. So the troubled teen bid her farewell and left without looking back once.

The old woman looked after the twins with all the care in the world. The first two years of their life, they spent playing in her garden, singing songs, and enjoying their little lives together. Until one day when the sweet old lady, showed her true colors and her real reason for taking in the children so graciously from Jane. Once Donny and Marie were strong enough the old woman made them her personal slaves. Leaving them to clean, cook, and wait on old witch of a lady hand and foot. She would make little Marie crawl into the darkest corners of her house to chase the spiders and rats out, where Donny had to wait with a broom to kill each creature as it tried to escape. The old woman would lock one in the attic and the other in the basement at night with no lights and nothing more than a shabby old blanket to keep themselves warm.
After several years of living this way, the twins became so depressed and sick that they were no longer strong enough to please the old woman. She locked them in their rooms and would shove scraps of food under the doors at night for them to fight over with the rats that lived amongst them.
Now the old woman’s neighbors grew more and more concerned, because they had stopped seeing the children moving about the house for a couple of weeks. So one good neighbor called the sheriff to the house to check up on the old woman and children. When he came knocking on the door Donny could see him through one of the holes in the attic a rat had chewed in the siding of the house. The old woman answered the door, and spoke in the charming voice she had used so many years ago on troubled Jane.
“Why, Sheriff it’s wonderful to see you. What can I do for you today?”
“Well ma’ma, I just wanted to asked the boy and girl that live here with you a few questions. Are they here?” The old woman stood up straight and replied with a quick tongue.
“Why no, I’ve sent them out to get some groceries for supper tonight.” The sheriff looked at her suspiciously and that’s when he heard a loud thumbing noise coming from the attic. The sheriff pushed aside the lady and walked up to the attic were he found the door bolted shut. He unbolted and opened it up to find little Donny with a piece of wood in his hand pounding it against the floor. Donny quickly took the Sheriff down to the basement where they saved little Marie.
When they got to the sheriff station and had the old woman arrested and thrown into prison for the rest of her life, they tried to contact Donny and Marie’s mother. But it turned out that Jane, had one night of such intense partying that she overdosed on Meth and died. When the Sheriff learned of what had become of the two youngsters mother, he felt so sorry for them that he personally took the twins home to live with his wife and him. They had always wanted children but could never have any due to a metical condition his wife had.
The sheriff and his wife loved Donny and Marie with all their hearts and more love than anyone could have given the two children. They attended school and went on to college, and eventually became part of the Child Protective Services.

Moral of the story, don’t do drugs.

Cartoon time.

http://cartoonbox.slate.com/hottopic/?image=0&topicid=256

Slink-a-rella

I just thought about it today looking at the schedule for class and how today was supposed to be about Cinderella, that a nick name I have for my dog Slinky, is Slink-a-rella, taken from Cinderella. I called her that at first because she was a diamond in the ruff (haha ruff, dog) but anyway she was an abused seven month old dog in the Mammoth Lakes Animal Shelter. But when she got her day at the ball-living with a family that isn't abusive-she came out of her shell and became the greatest companion. Her realistic fairytale parallels that of Cinderella, not only by nickname.

Hansel and Gretel

I surprised when reading Hansel and Gretel, how negatively the females are portrayed in the story. The evil step-mother, the Wicked Witch in the woods, and than poor little helpless Gretel. Someone has to be the mean evil character in stories, and it seems to sway more toward females. But what I really enjoyed about the story is how weak and defenseless Gretel is-that sounds terrible. Her brother has to do all the work in getting them home, and comforting her, while he conducts himself with strength. But in the end it is Gretel that saves the day by pushing the nasty old witch into the fire. The twist of Gretel's character is an empowering moment for the females in fairytales. This is why I enjoyed Gretel's weak character, because in the end she kicks butt and kills the witch!

Personal Family Stroytelling

The story of Dad and Big Foot. It is a true story—says my dad—about him having an encounter with the mysterious creature we no nothing about.

The story is supposed to be told in summer, due to the fact that this was the easiest way for my dad to really get into the story and freak my brothers and me out. I’m sure looking back on our experiences with storytelling, that it was a tactic to get us to remember the story with pictures in our head of the scary woods behind my father, and the smell of pine and sometimes, if I was really into the story, the faint stench of what smelled like wet dog. This was the clincher to the story, when my father would hold his nose up to the sky and sniff. As a little kid I could smell Big Foot's pungent aroma floating through the woods, and onto the porch of our cabin deep in the woods of the Sierra's.

Now writing it down, like all oral traditions, you miss out on so much of the story that cannot be put into words.

It was in late summer, when the air was still warm and the grass was slowly beginning to turn yellow. I was on a fishing trip with Grandpa, Grandma, Sis, and my little dog Lucy in the Sierra's. Grandpa and I had been fishing all day, and it was getting time to head in so that we could get the fish ready for eating. We walked steadily through the woods to our campsite where Grandma and Sis had started the fire. We had caught four fish exactly so everyone could have their own. After dinner, we sat around the campfire singing songs and telling stories. When the campfire had died down and the faint glow of embers was the only thing left, we nestled into our sleeping bags under a sky spotted with trillions of stars and fell asleep.

In the middle of the night I woke up having to use the bathroom, I tried to hold it in. The woods were dark, and the breeze sent chills from my head to my toes. It was still warm out and the moon had just started to peak it's face out from behind the ridged mountain tops, sparkling on the lake water. I finally couldn't hold it any longer. I unzipped my sleeping bag and looked around. Everyone was a sleep, the embers were still dimly glowing as I passed. I walked into the woods hearing the trees talking to each other with ever puff of wind. That's when I caught sent of something fowl, it smelled like a wet dog. But Lucy was sound asleep by the glowing embers 10 feet behind me. The smell got stronger as walked deeper into the woods. I turned around to see if I could still see the campsite. Suddenly I heard the crunching of dried leaves as if someone, or something, was walking through the woods just ahead. I quickly turned around to see what it was. And that's when I saw it! Standing upright like a man, but covered in what looked like fur. It was dark and I couldn't make out the direction it was headed. Petrified I couldn't move! It turned, sniffed the air, and looked directly at me. I could see it's eyes catch the moonshine, it started towards me, swaggering and swaying with every step. I couldn't move, I was scared stiff and yet amazed at what I was seeing.

BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! It was Lucy right by my side barking at this creature coming towards me! It stopped about 20 feet from me. I could see the texture of it's fur, a dark brown, with what looked like twigs and leaves stuck in it. It stood about 10 feet tall, it's face like nothing I've ever seen. BARK! BARK! BARK! Lucy kept barking but wouldn't venture any closer than where I was standing.
And then it turned and took off at a fast pace camouflaging itself with the dark night woods.

Lucy and I ran back to camp, where everyone had awaken from the barking. I told them what I had seen. Grandma told me to go to sleep and stop imagining things, Grandpa leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I believe you son."

The next morning Lucy, Grandpa, and myself walked into the woods were I claimed to have seen the creature, but we couldn't find any trace of it.

The end.