... Page 2 The Allegory of the Cave from the faculty of Washington College, is the article I found that gave me meaning as to what Plato was trying to say . It showed that the Prisoners saw only the shadows of what the puppet men were carrying and they only said what they thought the images were . In the example the prisoners thought he “ saw a book , but he was not seeing a book , he was seeing a shadow of a book . “ Plato’s point is that they were referring to shadows they saw on the wall and not the actual item that the puppet men were carrying in front of the fire that caused it to make a shadow on the wall. The example given in The Allegory of the Cove shows us that the prisoners were no really seeing the object but the shadow of an object that was reflected on the wall , if they could have turned around , which they could not , because they were chained , they would have seen that the real item was being carried by the real item was being carried by the puppet men and they were only seeing a shadow of the item. I believe this application was valid because it shows an illusion . If the prisoners could have seen the real article that was being passed in front of the fire , all that they were seeing was the shadow of the item on the wall . The prisoners think they are seeing an item such as a book but...
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...A picture , all things are dark except a naked old man , came into my view . The strong comparison of color catch me a lot, I could not keep myself from going in front of the painting and observing it: “Saint Onuphrius” by Jusepe De Ribera who was born in 1591 in Spain loving painting with realistic and brutal scenes in different circumstances and delighted in subjects of horror. In the picture, a old man who has long white curly hair and white mustache looks up sky and opens his mouth and his hand folds together with a long bead. He only wears some leaves in the lower part of the body.I conjecture that he comes from old times. However, surprisingly the man has strong muscle , but his face looks like a person who is over 60...
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...would have control over. Some tool that would allow you to filter what you would like to see, and what you would not like to see as you search through sites on the web. However, filter bubbles is something that you do not have any control over. A filter bubble is a tool that each browser, either it be Facebook, Netflix, or even Google, will filter out things you typically do not browse through. It controls what you can and cannot see based on what each browser is seeing you watching or looking for. Pariser said “There is no standard Google anymore.”, and that was where he drew me. It allowed me to see how different the internet is becoming. There are so many risks when it comes to the internet, and you hear that daily. This is moving us to a world where technology is basically controlling our lives, and it's not challenging us. This tool is letting us be comfortable with what we are used to, and we don't get to decide what we want to see or not see because of these filters.. I actually did not even realize the severity of these filter bubbles. I did notice how I wasn't seeing more and more of these acquaintances I have via Facebook. I basically looked right past it, and thought that was just what Facebook did. I didn't realize how in-control these filter bubbles are becoming. Seeing Pariser compare his friends Google searches of the same search, and noticing the difference in the two it got me to realizing what a filter bubbles intentions are. It isn't to help as I had previously...
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...door, not knowing what was about to happen. “Prisoner 275, face the wall.” One of the male guards forcefully demanded. While the other male guard placed the case that contained the wristband that those going on the drop ship had to wear. While I stood in front of the door in case the kid tried escaping. “Woah. Hold up. I'm not 18 yet.” The prisoner, John Murphy, stated. He held his hands above his hands as he faced the wall. I pulled out my tranquilizing gun hoping I won’t have to use it in the kid. “Quiet. Hold out your right arm.” The first guard demanded. The second guard pulled out his electric baton. As the two guards started...
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...when I was in elementary school ART programs were very important, and I took full advantage of everything. There was the Choir, Dance Troup, and the Flute Choir; I remember always being in the front, learning how to read music to sing and play notes correctly. That is when I fell in love with performing arts, because I felt like all eyes were on me. When I was in the military I was introduced to what I called Black Art. Art that depicted African American people in various ways, but mostly strong, powerful and overcoming positive images that I enjoyed looking at and even debating about. My definition of arts is expression; expressing the way you feel whether in a painting, sculpture, dancing, acting or even decorating your home. Art is a part of our personalities and our creativity; everyone has something that they are passionate about something that makes them happy and feels like they can take over the world. When I about three or four years old my mother took me to see the legendary stage play Cats. I was only a child, and had never seen anything like that before. I remember telling my mother “wow I want to do that when I grow up”. The play made me smile, happy and excited seeing the way the cast interacted with the audience and the way they performed on stage gave me goose bumps, and I was hooked. After that experience I was always trying to find a reason to perform, I would put on little plays in my home for my mother I would sing and dance and act like I...
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...All Quiet on the Western Front Juxtaposition Essay In any war, there are two separate and shockingly different perspectives: that of the warrior, and that of the average citizen. To those not actually fighting, casualties might seem simply a number while to the soldiers, they are a constant reminder of the price their friends, brothers and more often than not themselves are willing to pay for the protection of their country. In Erich Remarque's revolutionary novel All Quiet on the Western Front, Remarque shows the world what is really like to fight a war. By juxtaposing seemingly polar opposites, Remarque shows the reality of war. Remarque weaves a substantial amount of war imagery into All Quiet on the Western Front, using this technique to further exhibit the appalling realities of war. Though all the general public might see is that a soldier has been injured, Remarque vividly describes how that injury came to be, saying, "His hip is covered with blood...If he has been hit in the stomach, he oughtn't to drink anything. There's no vomiting, that's a good sign. We lay the hip bare. It is one mass of mincemeat and bone splinters. The joint has been hit. This lad won't walk anymore" (68). Using graphic and striking adjectives, Remarque brings the reader into what a common soldier's train of thought in times of great stress. Due to the fact that Remarque's main character Paul is in the middle of a battle, his thoughts are few, though precise. Writing sections of a novel...
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...the MTS Centre not knowing what to expect, other than I was going to have the best time of my life. This event was unforgettable because I learned that it is our choice to make events like this memorable. The venue was filled with hundreds of people, teenagers to be exact. Most of them were confused because they did not know where to go but at the same time they were hysterical because they were about to see a band they admired. I held my cousin’s and my tickets while my dad helped us figure out where to go. I was flushed with excitement that made it impossible for me to answer any questions he asked. Luckily, an employee guided us to the venue and my dad walked my cousin and me to the entrance. Now comes the climax of the day. We arrived at the venue and the stage was visible from where we were standing. My cousin and I were 20 minutes earlier than the concert so most of the seats were empty. We waited while music similar to the...
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...Incident Report 2/10/15 10:26 Guilit had informed me of an incident that had happened outside of school prior to the incident we are here discussing today. Mr Yoto and a girl in my year named Chrissie were in a brief relationship months back which had ended and since then , he has been repeatedly threatened and harassed on a daily basis as a result of a break - up. Me being Guilit’s best friend, i would constantly be reassuring him that this issue will go away and to focus on whats most important at this present time which is school, our business course and completion of sixth form. He would also motivate me and do the same. On Wednesday 30th September , i was at home with my dad in the front room, trying to complete coursework set by my business teacher when i was notified by Guilt that he had been assaulted by Chrissie on his way home from sixth form. Chrissie (and several of her friends who also attended the school) hired a cab service to collect them from school after the day was done and pursed and stalked guilit as he made his way normal routine way home. After Mr. Yoto had got of the 158 bus opposite his house , the cab slowly pulled up alongside Guilit and Chrissie proceeded to lean half way out the moving vechile and throw Urine (whos being i don't know) which was contained in a reusable water bottle at Guilit which did make contact with him and his entire school attire. Once informed , i advised Guilit to remain calm and collective and to not act...
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...someone who struggles with presenting speeches in front of large crowds of people, eventually gets over his fear and accomplishes his goal by giving an amazing speech. I’m almost for certain that more than half of my public speaking class is afraid to give a speech in front of people due to nerves. To me, giving a speech in front of people makes me nervous and scared. I feel like the King George VI because I tend to mumble and move around a lot when I give speeches. If I were in the King’s situation I would seek help just as he did. But instead of freaking out all the time, I would practice my speeches and try to find different tactics that would help me remain calm while I’m presenting. This movie makes me believe that public speaking is intimidating. But with a composed attitude and a straightforward speech I will be able to tackle the nerves and give a worthy speech. To form a good impression on the listeners I have to make eye contact with the audience members, speak slowly and loud, take pauses when needed, and show appropriate facial emotions when I’m sincere about what I have to say. When preparing my speech I have to create an introduction that gets the audience’s attention, so then they will become interested in what my speech is about. Seeing the King’s speeches fail made me realize that I should take appropriate actions when feeling apprehensive. I should act confident, know what I’m going to say and visualize what will make me a successful speaker in my head. At the end...
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...be an Algebra tutor and a friend. One day, as I was sweating through an online Spanish Quiz, Breanna, a quiet, freshman girl in my Wildlife & Fishery class, asked if I was good at math. Immediately, my mind drifted to the mind-numbing AP Calculus course I was taking and was instantly sickened. Fortunately for the both of us, I remembered the blissful ease and enjoyment I use to have with ninth through eleventh grade math and complied to help her. The following day, Breanna found me in the front office of our school during my Office Aid period with a new sheet of math homework she my assistance on. Unoccupied, I agreed to help her. After about a week of the same process, our little tutoring secession became a routine; just about every day during my office aid period, Breanna would come to the front office for tutoring and, for that entire period, I did whatever I could to not only help her understand and process her homework, but...
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...Loud music and random conversations filled the busy neighborhood of Kiltin Heights. The neighborhood I new all to well brought back memories that had long ago faded. Seeing the little kids riding up and down the street on their bikes caused a smile to grow across my face. The neighborhood wasn't a bad one but it wasn't good either. Drug dealers stood on the corners slagging, junkies roamed the streets ready for another fix, and bullets would ricoatching early in the morning causing sirens to fill the streets before dawn. Stepping out of my 2016 I walked across the street sending head nodds to those who knew me and spoke. Walking onto the porch, reaching under the mat and pulling out his spare key. Opening the door, the foul aroma of must...
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...8/9/13 "Axolotl" by Julio Cortazar 70768 Axolotl by Julio Cortázar The Mexican axolotl is an odd-looking salamander with a flat head and spiked feet, unusual because it often spends its entire life in the so-called larval stage, like a tadpole, without ever moving to land. “It grows and grows in the same shape, and has the capacity to reproduce,” said the biologist Armando Tovar Garza. “We don’t really know why it doesn’t change.” Its gaze seems to captivate as its gills slowly beat. In Julio Cortázar’s short story “Axolotl,” the narrator is transfixed — “I stayed watching them for an hour and left, unable to think of anything else” — and experiences his own metamorphosis. New York Times, Oct. 31, 2012 There was a time when I thought a great deal about the axolotls. I went to see them in the aquarium at the Jardin des Plantes and stayed for hours watching them, observing their immobility, their faint movements. Now I am an axolotl. I got to them by chance one spring morning when Paris was spreading its peacock tail after a wintry Lent. I was heading down tbe boulevard Port-Royal, then I took Saint-Marcel and L'Hôpital and saw green among all that grey and remembered the lions. I was friend of the lions and panthers, but had never gone into the southerncrossreview.org.education2020.us/73/axolotl.html?date=OC85LzIwMTMgNTowMDowNCBQTQ%3d%3d&u=ODRiM2E5MzEtNWJlNC1lMjExLWIxN… 1/6 ...
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...author and page. I particularly want to know why it stood out for you-- related to your life? Your practicum? etc. 1. In discussing the first article Mier Chapter one in reference to feedback on progress, If we are going to be looking at behavior change we have to be able to first identify what we want to be different. Basically we need to be able to say very clearly what we want to change. What is the behavior you are trying to change? Could the clients you’re working with tell us specifically what need to be different, could they tell us...
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...Dullanty’s introduction, she hands out blank pieces of paper to each person in the classroom and tells us to write what we did over the summer. I’m handed a piece of paper and I get to writing about my trip to Disneyland. When everyone finishes with their stories, Mrs. Dullanty tells us to turn our paper into the drop box right next to the door and reminds us to put our name and the date on the top right hand corner our papers. I notice at the corner of my eye a girl who’s throwing her hands in the air while she’s explaining to other people around what she did over the summer. A roar of laughter is heard from the back of the class when she says something I can’t seem to hear, so I shrug it off and wait for further instructions from the...
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...I see a shadow running past the window as my vision inches closer to the house. It isn't the first time my dreams have brought me here and I know it won't be the last. There is something that happens every time I arrive, but I'm already too late to see the crime taking place by the time I arrive. Yet for once, I'm outside the house as the build up of events is taking place and I can feel the tension rising in the air. I feel myself moving forward, but I know I am unseen to everyone else around me, even though there is barely anyone in this secluded area as it is. A sudden movement catches my attention on the left side of the house and my heart thrashes harshly in my chest. Anxiety rushes over me as I watch the front door slowly open towards me and I see both of them standing in the narrow hall way in the middle of a heated argument. The words nearly incoherent to me, I struggle to hear the content of their disagreement, but its impossible with the sound of the bitter wind outside. Suddenly, I'm being pulled forward into the house, racing through an ending obstacle course through the disaster they called home. Their yelling, or his to be exact, echoes off the walls and sounds as if they're right in my ear. A force stops me at the bottom of the stairs where the kitchen is to my right, trashed as if a tornado had just blown through. My vision zooms in on the counter top where there is a small splatter of blood on the corner as if someone had been holding onto it with a bloody...
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