Friday, September 4, 2020

America and the Human Rights Frontier: A Religion in Rebellion, or The American Expression by John Hamburg

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What is it about J.D. Salinger’s ‘Catcher in the Rye that draws a sense of popularity?

Originally conceived and written on April 25, 2019



              

                The first time I knew about the book was a movie about a moment in the author's life. I saw the film listed as playing and I read in the logline that it was about a writer. I love films about writers and writing, so I recorded an encore that was on later in the week. The film is called ‘Rebel in the Rye’ starring Nicholas Holt as the author, J.D. Salinger.

 

                The film has Salinger attend a creative writing class and he would send stories and got rejected over and over again, he went to war where he would write stories and would eventually write a short story starring Holden Caulfield. His teacher told him he needed a novel saying how he deserves his own book, and so began on ‘The Catcher in the Rye’, which was popular with teenagers everywhere. After I saw the film, I went to buy the book at my local Barnes and Nobel and read it in the remaining final weeks of the school semester. I as read it, and when I finished, I found myself not understanding what was big deal about this book as it has a weird structure, a protagonist who isn’t appealing, and an odd essence of time.

 

                The structure is weird enough but I get what the author is doing. The story is written out as if the narrator is talking, just talking, even when he goes into what is being thought of. It didn’t feel like a book, it felt like I was reading or listening to someone who is telling me a story next to me.

    

        Holden Caulfield never backs down from his thoughts, he tells it the way it is, and it makes the structure even repetitive by bringing up the same phrases or responses like what he hates, and/or doesn’t understand about the movies for instance. I thought that he is a – critique of life who is very complex because of it, he doesn’t know how to respond to something. Holden would say negative things about Ackley, Spencer, Pencey, and then turn it around and compliant them. For Ackley, he says how he is a pig who lives in a room with clothes everywhere, that he smells, that he acts like he has the best body because of his abs, then he flips it by saying how he does have a nice body. “He really does”, that is his catchphrase as he says it repeatedly. He complains so much but then he is okay with their existence. He uses time-oriented words like “Grand if there’s one word I hate is grand.” I get this feeling it is set in the 1940s, even thou there is no actual sense of time apart from the style of narration and dialogues. Like it is phony. He talks about how actors are phony, which makes think of actors today like Leonardo Di Caprio who doesn’t act but is the character. I think Holden Caulfield is phony, he is cheesy. Even the surrounding cast of characters hate him, calling his questions ‘typical Caulfield questions’.

 

    The strange thing is that he would bring something up and may or may not bring it up again like ducks and where it might go, or the museum, his sister, Phoebe or his brother D.B. Phoebe doesn’t appear till the very end and D.B. is not in it. I was told that the protagonist is the one who changes the most. Holden mentioned leaving to California but he ends up staying, even when he ran out of Antolini’s house, and with that moment there was only a small realization of something that Stradlater says about people being “flits”. He seems to only realize the truth but does not do anything to change him. I read that word, flits, the author's word of use for homosexuals, gays, etc. and how meaning and words changes. I knew right away he was gay as he was targeting everyone else.

 

    There are moments I like thou, and a moment that sticks out that is relatable. I love the museum part of the book, how the narrator goes into what the history museum has that stands out to a person like the bosom of a native girl or that these guys in the museum, the native, the Eskimo, and the birds will always be doing what they are doing because they don’t change. When Holden pointed out about girls and how they can’t be satisfied one way or another about a guy rather they are punks or the nice kid on the block sticks out to me. It is the smaller things that have me understand what Is to like about it. The moment Holden went to a bar and conversed with a singer imprinted the 40’s setting of the book and not much else but I like the moment. Phoebe asked him what he cared about and to say one thing that he cared about. Holden took forever going from one thought to the next. Phoebe says how doesn’t care about anything and he does. That is something I relate to. Above it all, it has philosophical moments about films, books, girls, and I appreciate those moments as well. It is the smaller details that can be appreciated because then, overall as a book, it is not particularly interesting. The meaning of the title itself doesn’t come up till the end when Holden acknowledged what career he wants which is to catch kids before leaping off a cliff.

 

    I am one of those readers who doesn’t understand it and yet I do. I understand why the structure is the way it is because this is the way people think and live their life. There is nothing consecutive about life, it is random and so the book ends with the happiest day of Holden’s life, being with his sister. I think the reason that most don’t understand it or even hates it is because the reader or the viewer is not used to the idea of how grounded it is, it isn’t written as a traditional fictional book. In films, the details are linear and to the point from books which has details that build worlds. This book does have a world in the sense that the protagonist is constantly making it in the format of thoughts, where everyone is important enough to have a name like a cab driver and the backstories that are otherwise pointless other than that it means something to the character(s) like James Castle of Elkton Hills.

 

    I think it just needs to sink in to be appreciated and to look back at the details to see the connections. I read this book because it is not a movie nor will it be a movie, so it is the only way I can experience it. ‘I’m not going to tell you my whole goddamn autobiography or anything. I’ll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last Christmas just before I got pretty run-down and had to come out here and take it easy.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

A Wizarding job

Finding a Job in the Wizarding World is much harder from No-Maj, but I do have a sense of what the path is and it's a mix of jobs. People take quizzes and when I do it's always a Professor, once a Headmaster. So this is a view of my life.

I had done a prologue of a fanfiction idea into exploring who I am in the world. I went to Ilvermorny and got sorted to Pukwudgie. The reason I cut the part short is because the rest is a normal life with studies. Until second year,

In my second year, I had a continuous development of this wand that I took? from Wandvault. The wand itself is a wand of Dogwood, Pisa bird antlers and strains of a plant called Josiah, hilt was of a boar tusk. In my second year, the wand showed me a past life as other alternatives. The past life was of an Auror which was me transforming into a bald eagle, technically a dinosaur.

Alternate was me at Hogwarts as a Gryffindor. One was book series. In my third year I took Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Divination is reasonable.

But the wand caused me to have precognitive dreams in my 5th year, after I used a patronus charm which saw three animals; bird, Pine Martin(Pottermore) and a Camel. Thee dreams were my future that I can't change. Once my Patronus, in gold, became a falcon. At 16, the wand broke upon using dark magic. The wand was broken in two, the stem was never seen again and could be used with other hilts by other users. The hilt, was mended to a new wand.

Upon my visit, a wand flew to my hands, the San wand that flew to me inn my first year only now it was meant to be. In the prologue, a wand burnt me, a wand of Jonkers. The burn tells of a time when it was mine. A second past life in America as a thunderbird. Jonkers showed me a permit. The permit was dated and from the old life. I had it tuned to my liking.

Wampus hair, 11", Redish Ceaser Wood with the bone of boar tusk.
I did graduate, thou poorly on Potions and exceptional on Transfiguration. Passable on the other two.

I did look into divination based careers and Seer want on the cards, it was falling off grid and I couldn't see others. I came up with my own idea of a Dreamcatcher, but it it was only an idea.
I was always into cryptids and superstition and so I found myself looking responding to Newt Scamanders textbook, to prove something.

There will always be unfounded beasts as there will always be undiscovered lands. Rolf and Luna did find some stuff and so have I. I can't find a copy unfortunately but, named "A Blind Newt". I than attended the position within a department in MACUSA, the Body for Protection of Magical Species.

Reasons in being of my interests and by now knowledge of Cryptids and furthermore a view in politics. I hated the segregation of no-maj/wizardkind and so Auror will be no exception. Animals however have guidelines, lives my nature unlike us uprights with freedom. They shouldn't be crossed and harmed. Protecting them from us. I did than become a professor thou of what?

Care of Magical Creatures? I do do some harm indeed to small critters, spiders. In fact there is yet another possibility and in mind always. Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I know cryptids and been around, and would teach all the kinds including Chupacrabas, Hidebehind, Sasquatch, Camp, sure the other could still be of value. Thunderbirds. From here I could have became a Headmaster.

But, I didn't want it. My time in school was over, maybe it was that I didn't want to stand over students. In the end, as an old man, I became the one thing that truly started it all.
Wandmaking.

In the prologue, I mention my grandpa would be a wandmaker. Maybe or maybe not opening a shop. That's what I did, wands of Jersey Devil bone and Devil Tree, Chupacabra fang was another. I had to be careful into using them, I couldn't kill one, and I was only opened when I was. Animals need to breed and live.
I live with a tawny owl named Horus, a Siamese cat named Meftet, a dog Gwarm. Even an Occamy. But this is all thought. My view.

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Rukh Finnr part 2

Desolation Alley
           
Desolation Alley is where one witch and wizard gets supplies. In the early days it was the place to go for a drink, but than the area expanded. The New York Subway station is where it all is now. Right next to The Blind Pig, and even Ebbingdales is around the area.

The parents of Rukh Finnr drove him all the way from Detroit to New York along with his brothers and sister. The car of a black Chrysler parked near the entrance of the station and most even was only just awakening.

“Get up, the sun is up, the air is cold and also we are here.”
They looked out the windows and saw this new city in their life. They unbuckled and gathered their belongings like: the second brother took small bag of blankets and warm sandwiches. The other two were quite younger and in the hands of Darasa with her bag of diapers and milk and cookies. The father stood high over the roof of the car in his small brown and black plaid jacket, black ties and blue suit pant. He is a professor.

‘Come on,” Darasa had said in aguish
“Why not just leave most of the stuff, we’ll only be here for a moment.”

Darasa looked over to her husband, with small thought she agreed and left what was needed. Which was everything except a change of diapers, milk bottle, pacifier, and of course money. The father placed coins n the dispenser and they were off.

The family of six trotted down the steps of one entrance, a train subway for Non Magicals, but two things for magic–kind. As they entered, the location is molded to appear to look like a shopping mall for the hidden. Shops were built into the walls of the brown colored bricks and clouded by a roof to hide its blue skies. Kids were walking and standing in one fashion and the next. A few were wearing school robes of cranberry and blue. Brooms are hovering mid-air to try, and owls flew above the citizens as well. Some shops are small and others are big, and the big ones are enchanted to be the homes that the shopkeeper lives. There is one gap, a tunnel between stores that people walked through to another great section.

“What is on the list?” Rukhs brother had said

The list had its usual of books, robes, a wand and a choice of pets. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” by Newt Scamander, “Chadwick’s Charms Volume 1” by Chadwick Boot, and “History of Magic in North America” by J.K Rowling to name a few. Choice of pets a Fox, a lizard, monkey or a meerkat and has of course a wand.  

“Should the wand be last?” Rukh has asked
“It doesn’t have to be, I mean yes it is the one most look forward to.” A girl had spoken who walked by with red hair and a dress.
“So I should maybe keep it last than, as it is the most fun.”
“That is what I was going to say. Books can be quite a downer.”

In fact, Rukh loves books, his mother tells stories from them as well as his father. The ones he reads are fantasies like “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” or “Tales of Beedle the Bard”. So, no, not a downer, but a source of enlightenment.

“My name is Rukh Finnr.”
“Funny name that is, Rook Fin-er. Names Alice.”
She smiles at him with a longing smirk, a girl with a bag of books in hand, her hair curly, and wearing the school robes.
“I still haven’t gotten a wand yet. But, I’ll,” an idea popped “Ill go when you do.”
This had him frozen in place in quite a heartbeat as he shakingly nodded his head in yes.
“Excellent, Ill just be exploring.” She wonders off almost skipping with glee that had Rukh raise eyebrows

He did get books first, Newt Scamander from The Fireplace, a store that is molded to feel more like a home where one could hang around. The store had couches, lamps, a counter for beverages like Honeynut Pie and Chocolate Delight; the cups were enchanted to prevent spills on books. Books of course were flying high from massive shelves to massive shelves on the second floor. The stairs whipped down from a caramel colored balcony to behind the shopkeeper. Walls full of shelves as well, the couches are of two facing each other at the left center with a table and a small lamp in between. Four comfy red chairs on the right forming corners of a square, each with a table and a lamp. In the center half way from the right side is the counter where drinks are served and books are brought and rented.

“Hello, little one”
Rukh tired to reach that sound in the distance witch belonged to an eerie white male.
“Could I help you find something?”
Rukh slowly walked over and nodded frightenly.
“You are need of a book for school and that book is Newt Scamander himself.”
He walked off from the counter towards the left shelves on the ground level. The books were only 6 copies of green hardcover by the window and curtains.
 “Oh, I need more. More copies and more books.”
He held a copy firmly with two hands outwards in front of Rukh.
“We, there isn’t just me, hold books from dedicated authors and I chose this book because of what he showed us in the past. Even recommended it to the school.”
He smirked a little before walking back, a man with white frizzy hair and black mustache like Einstein. He wore clothes like his fathers jacket and even in the same colors only a black vest and shirt as well as a golden-chained monocle in his left jacket pocket on his breast. He pulled a lever and had the book bagged.
“That would be 1 and a half Dragots and 23 sprinks.”
It actually just occurred to him of his money, he did have some from his fathers but, for future times, he would need to get some. Dragots and Sprinks are the currency that American Wizards carry and manufactured through a section connecting the Wizarding Government and Steen National Bank; A bank holding Dragots, sprinks, and money of the non-magicals.
Rukh gives the man money and the man gives him the book.
“Come back to The Fireplace anytime, for my name is Mister Twain, Mark Twain.”

Rukh feels he might actually like him and the place so he nodded and left to get his other books. Charms book from Charmed and the rest. The book from Rowling is also across from a place called Real History. Rukh was on his way for the second fascinated thing, pets.


Rukh’s father was starting to have a flashback as he walked with Rukh to the pet store. “I had a monkey once, I had it back when I was in Africa.”
“A monkey?”
“Yes, just for a while thou. Not really a good pet.”
A big wooden sign up on top of the store is brown with two-frame work of colors surrounding it. The sign is rectangular for the most part but the two top corners are swirled, the colors of black over light green blended in. In the center of the wooden plaque are the words Madame Braedu’s Terrarium and the entrance looks like a saloon with overgrown plants and windows.  Inside, the floor is nailed together with wooden planks, crowded with overgrown plants hanging from pots and aquariums with fishes. Shelves of fish-food, bones, and crickets stood side by side with no space. Over the floor is a balcony with more narrow spaced crowds of animals. One could never really breath in this place, and a counter that’s so close to the door you’re already out of the shop with what you need.

As listed, Lizards lay on shelves, Monkeys climbed the ladders to the balcony, Meerkats peeked through holes in the walls and little foxes walking about the store. There are other animals like piranhas, grasshoppers and quails. A woman, Rukh never noticed stood near the counter wearing a colorful quilted robe of green, purple, and yellow circles. Bracelets on her wrists and a shape-shifting ear ring. On her right shoulder stood a glittery blue peregrine bird with brown eyes. It was looking right into the eyes of Rukh.
“Ill just stay outside”
Rukh’s father barely walked in before leaving him. The woman looked at him as she fed her bird. She looks at him with wing shaped golden glasses that had a chain attached.
“And so you also need a pet.” The woman speaks with an almost rude manner. Rukh had nodded with the spoken word of “yes”.
The woman started to walk out of her spot towards Rukh.
“Names Braedu, shopkeeper here. Plenty to choose from, but few listed. Any idea of what it might be?”
She bends over tilting her head sideways so one eye is seen, almost observing or identifying. Her bird chirped at him as it fluttered the wings and he could only stare at it.
“My dad said,” but was broken off when Braedu interrupted.
“No! It is up to you. Your father’s time with Abel is his identity. Doesn’t mean yours the same.”
Abel the monkey. “Maybe the fox?”
“The fox is a trickster, if one is a trickster it will guide them.” A snake slithers over her arm and coils itself as she pets it. At that moment, a pot blew steam and a noise is heard of whistles. It was a potion set; she was brewing in the back and in a way awakened her. She placed a fox of white stripes in a handler. Paid for with 2 Dragots and he walked off. The woman is left alone eying the door and feeding her bird. The snake slithers up beneath her rolled up hat.
“A wand is now needed, the final and biggest part.”
Rukh sees a very old shack like store. Four cemented stairs going up to a stone archway of grey/white marble. On top of the arch is a cornered roof where two stone columns stood under Wandvault. In fact, the store is quite slanted, drooping. Rukh opened the doors and stepped on a red carpet depicting a golden circle with a wand through it in hand. There is not a single desk however, in fact it has more space than what the exterior suggests. Small white boxes flying around from one shelf to another like the books in the bookstore, the wands are trying to reorganize themselves. Rukh walks towards the back of the store where lies a vanilla colored wall, a backdoor, and another door right in the center and visible from the main entrance. A man walks from the backdoor of white hair but, thin. He held a box that was of black color and gold lines.
“Don’t mind me, in fact I am not here. I was trying to place this item in to where it is to be.”
The man places the box on shelf and as he walked away the box flew to another shelf.
“Hmm.”
Another man of milk skin with a feather behind his ear and a small stick walked with chanting lips up the stairs. He came from nowhere, two others are heard, two women on the top floor talking to each other. It seems they are pretending no ones here.
“Excuse me but,” A wand flew towards him, almost right into his eyes. Rukh stood there with no knowledge of what to do. He grabbed it and it blistered him, red lines were made.
The man with the feathered head sighed, the others also made noises. Noises also came from the backdoor. Rukh heard it and walked towards it…
“NO! Never ever go in there. Its forbidden and I will not have you cause any troubles.” A woman screamed from the balcony. The noise however got louder and louder and the door started to seemingly breath. He was lured into it and so he went to the door and the four was quite. Rukh placed his hand upon the breathing door, and than silence. All he heard was the heart of the store. He placed his ear on the door and the beat stopped, the door opened.


The room was dark, sounds were heard, the room was hard to describe but one stood out. A grey box on top of a pillow and at that moment the box opened and the wand flew out towards him. Rukh dodged it and flipped in the air till it stopped. It was hovering over the floor: the wood was grey and old; it had a hilt of bone with a fat stem and round top. Rukh reached for it, it felt like the wand was pulling him in. He grabbed the wand and he felt himself getting pulled, like a vacuum. He was breathing hard and than it stopped. Panicking, he fled the store through the back, others unnoticed.