The Future of America: Yo Gabba Gabba

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  As children, we are always told to follow our consciences. We are told that if something we are doing doesn't "feel" right, the action should be immediately abandoned. However, the root of conscience is truly a human desire to be obedient--our parents lay down the rules of action when we are children, and our following these rules contributes to some kind of prize, some kind of reward. Our minds are as moldable as play dough at this early age, and once the play dough hardens, the shape to which it was molded by our early caretakers guides us through the rest of our days. A lot of psychology, I know. But psychology is really the secret to the workings of humans, not to mention one of the coolest-sounding "-ology's" by far.
     During the first half of the twentieth century and before, early caretakers were first and foremost immediate family members as well as teachers. The media had some influence, but not a lot because there wasn't much media geared towards the early childhood demographic, or  not much media at all for the majority of the time.  However, after about mid-century, media's influence on the early childhood age group increased and increased up to the present day, when shows such as "Yo Gabba Gabba" and "Handy Manny" exist. Such television programs are meant to help teach character traits that parents would normally teach their children, but it can definitely be said that they take this responsibility a little too far. Therefore, the children of today are hit with a nuclear bomb of morals not even the greatest saint could fulfill. Can you live your entire life without lying? Can you never say a mean thing about another person? Can you find the good in everyone you meet?
     Do you think these expectations are a bit too idealistic? Well, that's unfortunate, because such is exactly what children of my generation are being trained to do.
     A very similar phenomenon occurs in Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin. Our main character, John Grimes, is the son of a preacher (the one who doesn't practice what he preaches--I mentioned him in that post about Facebook) . A battle occurs within John, a battle waged against what he learned in childhood and the truth he has come to know as a teenager. You see, his father taught John that  one must  hate all white people and  follow God by never showing pride, but John is quickly discovering that being proud and having respect for certain white people is exactly how he can obtain a better life. The roots of the aforementioned are taught to him when the white principal of his elementary school compliments John on his handwriting at the age of six, making the boy feel almost invincible. Such psychological battle pervades the entire novel.
     Is being proud at times negative? Yes. Were all white people trustworthy in the 1920s? No. However, some pride is necessary for success, and some white people could be trusted, and this trust could launch someone towards success. Likewise, we must recognize that a generation of people whose consciences defile them whenever they hurt someone's feelings or tell a small lie is a generation of people who cannot reach success in the real world.
     I'll give you a final example: you know how both parents and a large majority of children's television focus on the importance of sharing everything? Because keeping things for yourself is very selfish and naughty and will get you coal from Santa Claus. Well, sharing everything has another name in the adult world, and that name concerns something utterly unsuccessful: communism.
   

Go Tell It On the Facebook

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I admit that I am a furious Facebook user. There are times when my one and only goal is to reach home so I can turn on that magical computer and type in  "www.fa" (the site is visited so much, my browser has the URL saved.) Of course, there can definitely be a bunch of professional-sounding excuses for this obsession, such as "A writer is always curious about the lives of others!", "It gives me inspiration for my writing!", "It helps my school club organize meetings!", or even "It's better than committing a crime!" Well, actually doing schoolwork or writing is also a lot better than committing a crime as well. How I frustrate myself sometimes.
     The truth is that I could achieve much more if these frequent visits ceased. What is it about the website, however, that makes its signature shade of blue inspire comfort and excitement within me (yes, I know how creepy that sounds, but it really is true.) The answer, in my opinion, is that Facebook lets individuals lead a double life.
     Now, I'm not talking about one of those "I'm a lawyer by day and stripper by night" kind of double lives. I'm talking about living a double life as Gabriel Grimes does in James Baldwin's classic novel, Go Tell It On the Mountain. This tale uses their relationship with God to depict African Americans experiencing the Great Migration from Jim Crow (oodles and oodles of discrimination) in the South to big business in the North. Grimes's relationship is a deep one, as he is a preacher who was turned away from the whore houses and whiskey bottles of Satan by a holy epiphany when he was but twenty one. Through many troublesome years his mother prayed for this event, but the heartbreaking truth is that said prayers are in vain even after Grimes has been "saved". This is because Preacher Grimes develops the habit of not practicing what he preaches. Gabriel's sister, Florence, realizes this as she learns of her brother abusing his children, abusing his wife, having an affair, and not supporting his illegitimate child. Despite Florence's knowledge, though, most people still are under the impression that this preacher is always guided by the very hand of God, destined to lead those who follow him into eternal glory.
     Gabriel keeps the holy image by painstakingly applying cover-ups to any evidence of Satan in his life. If only he lived in the Information Age--on Facebook, you see, the process of doing this would be as easy as picking what he posts on his profile.
     An inner, psychological reason for my love of facebook is therefore that I can construct a personality I desperately wish was my own. Through the pictures I post, statuses I write, comments I make, and pages I like, a persona of myself is created that is not perfect, but flawed in perfect ways. And I am extremely sure than many more individuals than just myself are guilty of this action.
    An obvious way to improve my own life, then, would be making my persona on Facebook the real me, to think of everything I do as something my three hundred friends could know about with a single click.

Why Politicians Suck: Part One

     It's election year. That means many a debate on the the television, many an argument at the kitchen table, and many a politics-obsessed page in the newspaper. Eventually, the American citizen is surrounded by constant notifications of who their political savior is, who will make their lives great and reduce taxes and reduce debt and stop terrorists and buy you a unicorn that poops diamonds. I, personally, am heavily dreading this time period precisely because unicorns don't poop diamonds, and the other things aren't too probable either. To put it frankly, everyone sucks. Why so? one may ask. It is, the way I see it, because of two heavily interrelated reasons:

1. To run for any position of high office, you have to be filthy, stinkin' rich. 
2. We only have two parties with heavy influence. 

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     And why not look at George Orwell's 1984 for some support on this one, eh?

     Winston Smith is trying to navigate through life in an oppressive, totalitarian government. The oppressive, totalitarian ruler is a figure named Big Brother who controls every aspect of life, as represented in his motto, "Big Brother is Watching You." Winston, being a lower party member--and therefore allowed by Big Brother to have a moderate amount of intelligence--feels trapped in a world with no outlet. He knows how truly twisted Big Brother's government is. He at times feels like screaming profanity at the top of his lungs, but cannot because of the telescreen (or a stalkerish window through which Big Brother can see his every action) remarkably adorned to a wall of his living room. There are also other Big-Brother-enforced social groups in Winston's world, among them proles and Upper Party Members. Proles are the Proletariat, or working class, who are herded into only certain areas of cities and forced to do only the most menial labor. Like animals, which is basically what Big Brother makes them viewed as. On the other hand, Upper Party members are those with the most comfortable houses, those allowed by Big Brother to have the most intelligence, those who can even shut their telescreens off as they desire.
       Talk about stratification, eh? And stratification is exactly we get because politicians suck. It's going to take me a while to tell you why, but stick with me, and we'll get there.
       Since we only have two parties with significant influence, all smaller parties and their candidates--all the Winston Smiths, if Mr. Smith would contemplate entering politics--are swallowed into them. The Republican and Democratic parties in act very similar to the single, ruling party of Winston's world, the party of which Big Brother is the head: Ingsoc. You see, these obnoxiously large parties swallow the smaller ones and force all the smaller candidates into adopting their same old ideals.

     These parties also make the smaller candidates adopt the same old corrupt, money-making practices like lobbyism. What is the goal of this corruption, what is the "greater good" the politicians serve by destroying the integrity of the American system? Accelerating their political careers, of course. If they're running for high office, they need money to pay for career-accelerating phenomena like television advertisements to compete with....
     All the other politicians who are filthy, stinkin' rich and can use it!

      "And can use it" is a huge aspect of the sentence above. For if the wealthy politicians were rich, but could not use their savings funds to ensure publicity, the playing field would be a lot more even. In other words, the need for lobbyism and corrupt, under-the-table deals would decrease significantly. However, this is not the case. This is not the case in the slightest. Instead, the American governmental system has made it so that a person with a lower income must participate in the same old illegal, money-grabbing activities to be considered for a major spot in national politics. And you know what makes it even better? Even better?  The already-wealthy politicians keep participating in the same old illegal, money-grabbing activities to get an edge over their already-wealthy competitors. Excellent!

    So in conclusion, we have a system where there is a huge gap between politicians in high office and the rest of us--politicians in high office are filthy, stinkin' rich whether they started out that way or got that way  through illegal, money-grabbing activities, while the majority of the American population is still middle or lower class. The two parties with heavy influence ensure that gap by being in charge of the American government, with no significant competition but each other--remember, candidates of smaller parties are forced to buddy up with them in order to achieve any high office.
     If a politician is reading this and thinks himself or herself to be an exception to what I'm saying, please comment about how are. It would make my year.     

French Peasants > Decaying Vegetables

Lately, I've been doing quite a bit of thinking about revolutions. The Arab Spring, Occupy Wall Street, all that material for AP World History....I am truly surrounded by them. That's partly why, when everyone in my class was crying about A Tale of Two Cities, I found myself famished for more. Bewildered, but famished.

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       If you don't remember from your own high school years: We begin with Lucie Manette as an innocent, English girl. Enter Mr. Jarvis Lorry, a man whose number-crunching world has been disturbed by some fascinating news-his old client, Dr. Manette, was released from the Bastille, a French prison. Lorry knows it is his duty to tell Lucie of the father she always thought was dead, and from an eventual reunion between the Manettes, Father and daughter hit it off like no tomorrow. Even when she is married to the ever-charming Charles Darnay (who is actually the son of a terrible, French aristocrat), the Doctor lives just upstairs. Meanwhile, the Defarges run a wine shop in St. Antoine, a section of Paris that wants to overthrow their oppressive, French monarchy like the Dickens (haha, get what I did there?) Meanwhile, Sydney Carton is a failed man, working as the metaphorical "jackal" of a manipulative lawyer named Mr. Styver. The Defarges' long-desired revolution breaks out, Darnay travels to France only to be imprisoned, the Lucie/Lorry/Manette super trio comes to help, Carton remains miserable, and we've got ourselves one helluva story. 

        A helluva story it is, but Dickens always has some philosophical tricks up his sleeve; he's quite the sly dog. Therefore, let's take a gander into what he says about revolution itself.

        The French revolutionaries think that everyone should enjoy "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity", not the kind of oppression dished out by French aristocrats. A perfect example of said oppression is when Darnay's uncle runs over a peasant child with his carriage. After the deed is done, the aristocrat conveys a face equal to that with which one greets a decaying vegetable. He complains about how poor people can't properly care of their kids, tosses some coins to the crowd as repayment, then drives on into the sunset with his high-and-mighty self. No one should have to endure such an atrocity....except when the good of a new, French Republic is at stake, of course. Once the revolutionaries attain power, you see, they pass a law that requires all individuals suspected of rebellion be slit open by the Guillotine. Sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, mommies, daddies...no one is safe. Forget Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity-at this point, most Frenchmen consider themselves lucky to be alive. 

         What went wrong, so many ask? Simply, the revolutionaries begin to value ideas that may help the people more than the people themselves. When Darnay is put on trial and Doctor Manette looks upset, the aging man is told that he should in fact be happy to sacrifice his son-in-law to the Republic. 

         Nowadays, everyone is buzzing about November's election. Every candidate is advertising his own brand of political, economic, and social change.  In a time where such emphasis is placed on new ideas, precisely who we change for must be ironed into our minds. 

What's CHALLENGING Me in 2012

Challenges make you read. That's one of the many pros, and the one most important to me, because I just love to neglect reading as that oh-so-wonderful work load starts to a-pile up on my desk..yikes. And if I don't integrate reading with such work, I'll just become this introverted, unsociable machine who cranks out chem problems like Crispy Cremes cranks out doughnuts. Therefore, challenges for 2012 will include...

Les Mis Mania!!!

First off is Owl Tell You About It's (isn't that blog name a riot?) Les Miserables Reading challenge, hosted by Laura Ashlee of said, riotous blog. I encourage you to find out more about it!

Second is the "Chunkster Readalong-Les Miserables in 2012" challenge hosted by Kate of Kate's Library. And again, please find out more!

How will I be coordinating this? Well, I will write a blog post about what I have read by the end of each month. Said posts will be comprised of the philosophical insights you know and (hopefully) love about this blog. Got it? Good! I'm uber excited! 

In My Neglected Mailbox (Numero Cuatro)

This time around, I tried doing IMNM with my new iPod touch. Fancy, huh?

Dear Viewer Who Has Oh-So-Wonderfully Watched this Cry for Help, 

Just as a prologue to this post...if you don't know what "In My Neglected Mailbox" is, feel free to watch the video posted to the right titled "They Want to Be Heard".

First, of all, "In My Mailbox" is a blog meme hosted by Kristi at The Story Siren (www.thestorysiren.com) and Alea at Pop Culture Junkie (www.aleapopculture.blogspot.com) to let all of us book bloggers party on the web.

Second of all, the desperate book here is The Cider House Rules by John Irving. 

Third of all, I was initially attracted to this book because its movie adaption had such a beautiful score, a score so masterfully composed by Rachel Portman. Rachel, kudos to you and your beastly, composing talent! Here is a selection of the aforementioned soundtrack for listening pleasure:

Fourth of all, thank you for giving my boisterous books your precious time. Trust that there will be another one hating on me in the coming weeks.

Best wishes,

Uomo di Speranza

PS: Be sure to check out my funtastic, new post-"The Rachel Berry of Mughal India"-right over here!

Obama, Be A Ghostbuster!

*This post is part of the Steinbeck Classics Circuit Tour hosted by Rebecca Reid. This tour began on August 15th and will end on the 26th, celebrating all that is Steinbeckian throughout its duration!
 

John Steinbeck's last novel was The Winter of Our Discontent, a novel which begins with the following statement: "Readers seeking to identify the fictional people and places here described would do better to inspect their own communities and search for their own hearts, for this book is a large part of America today." Isn't it uncanny that he still is correct in this day and age?  

      But let us begin with the basics-Ethan Allen Hawley toils each day as a mere grocery store clerk in the very town where members of his family were once prominent aristocrats. Hawley has been robbed of the aristocratic lifestyle by both his father's ill-fated investments and his own fiscal follies. The slightly impoverished man now resides with his family of four in the old Hawley house that houses artifacts reflecting the family's previous grandeur. The great margin between failure and success causes there to be many comparisons between Hawley and his forefathers on the parts of both Hawley's mind and the individuals around him. Eventually, these comparisons and the great expectations forged by them pervade his sense of honesty and righteousness, causing the innocent and kind Ethan to become a ruthless, success-obsessed machine. When banker Mr. Baker (love the alliteration of his name and profession!) mentions that the only land usable for a lucrative airport in New Baytown is in the ownership of Danny Taylor, a drunk who was Hawley's best friend in childhood, our main character hatches up a scheme fatal for Danny and excellent for Hawley when it ultimately gives him the piece of profitable property. And this is only the surface-Ethan also reports the existence of his ever-benevolent boss, Marullo, as an illegal immigrant to the federal authorities. And all this occurs because of expectations sprouting from these constant comparisons between Hawley and his forefathers....it's almost like they are haunting him, yes?...they're influencing him even when dead just like-ghosts. Yep. Ethan is in fact being haunted by ghosts. Not the kind reminiscent of Marley in A Christmas Carol with a translucent body and terrifying voice, but a ghost that only exists through influence. The dead and successful ancestors of Ethan haunt our main character with an impeccable model of what, according to both him and his peers, he should be in life.
      However, the aforementioned haunting does not have to exist. You see, it all has to do with what occurs within Ethan's mind-even if others are consistently making the comparison and setting the expectation, Hawley cannot be haunted if he doesn't make the comparison and set the expectation in his own mind. What Hawley does wrong is both dwell on the comparison and feel that he is a complete disappointment for not achieving that expectation of success; this is what causes him to attempt to expel the disappointment with such atrocious actions. A way by which to stop making these comparisons is realizing that Ethan Allen Hawley both does not face the same circumstances and is not the same person as any of his ancestors; it is therefore purely illogical to compare Ethan and the previous Hawleys.
      So nowadays, the United States finds itself at a particularly challenging point. With unemployment at an uncomfortable rate, the national debt rising to excessive levels, and Congress having a hissy-fit over almost every piece of legislation that comes under its nose, the outlook is not so positive for America retaining world domination. But all in all, America's situation is not all that different from that of Hawley.  Current America is significantly less great than Past America, and it is this difference that causes both Past America's mind of those of its fellows to make comparisons between the two. The level of success Past America experienced is now expected of Current America, just like the level of success Ethan's ancestors experienced is now expected of Ethan. Therefore, we are letting Past America with all of its success be a ghost that haunt us.
        However, Ethan Allen Hauley is not the same person as any of his ancestors and now faces different circumstances than any of them once did. Present America and Past America are the same way: Was President Eisenhower on Facebook? I don't think so. Did Teddy Roosevelt have to deal with Muslim extremists? Not that I know of. We must respect our age and know that Present America calls for different government attitudes, different philosophies in policy, and different manners by which to get itself back on the track to glory. Just because FDR raised the debt level to fix a recession, for example, does not mean that we should do the same nowadays.
         America needs an entire government's worth of ghostbusters indeed.

See what bloggers are participating the remainder
of the tour here

If You Don't Wish Upon a Star...

I'm writing a book. One that will hopefully become an epic of sweeping, narrative power and  completely undermine the correlation some individuals make between teenagers and vampire lit (sweet Stephanie had such good intentions, but they turned into an entire Teen Literature Section at Barnes and Nobles HISSING at me.) The first few pages of this novel will be posted up on le blog, and more excerpts will be acomin' as the year progresses at my attaining more time to revise. So there's one more question, now, is there not?...
Q: WHAT IS YOUR GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL ABOUT, SPERANZA?  
A: [UOMO DI SPERANZA tries to be refined with his noise pointed in the air, but instead has an eager, puppy-dog-like mug.] Success and what forces may cause us to inhibit ourselves from attaining it. However, the twist comes with an unreliable narrator, one whose experiences are unforgettable in a quite bad manner indeed. Picture A Northern Light fraternizing with The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time just before the two novels meet The Help for lunch. Descriptive enough for you?
           

***



Baldwin in an all-knowing pose. Can't you see the literary magic bursting
out of those fingers?

In the marvelous spirit of discussing success, today's post will concern an essay by the famed writer James Baldwin, an African American who wrote during much of the twentieth century. His writings aided the Civil Rights Movement and are now imperative aspects of the American Literary Canon. Baldwin composed an essay about his life entitled "Autobiographical Notes", which one can view right here, early on in his career. And my stalking begins-
             It was in his early life that James Baldwin fought in a rebellion, a revolution of sorts, which left no part of his body scathed. This revolution did not require any weapons since distinct peoples or countries were not involved, did not require travelling to any alien place. No, the revolution was one that, throughout Baldwin’s entire life, occurred only within the man’s self.
            From the onset of his life, James Baldwin was in rebellion against different phenomena in his world. He confesses to have “read just about everything [he] could get [his] hands on--except the Bible, probably because it was the only book [he] was encouraged to read.” This is an example of Baldwin resisting what his elders taught him about literature. His first published writing was a piece about the Spanish Revolution which, although accepted for publication there, was so “censored by the lady editor” of a church newspaper that young James was “outraged” (don't worry, little James, the author of this blog would probably have experienced the same reaction plus a day-long period of screaming!) The only action from which this censoring could possibly result was Baldwin composing a piece that resisted his church’s ideals.   

            James confessed in the piece that his path to becoming a writer within his adolescence and adulthood also included much resistance. This path began with “the most difficult (and most rewarding) thing in his life”-making “some kind of truce” with the fact that he was an African American. But in order to make that “truce”, Baldwin had to first realize that he was a “bastard of the west”, an individual identifiable with neither the “jungle” or “the stones of Paris”. As an African American, he was resisting complete relevance to singularly African or singularly European culture. Writing about his being a “negro”, a global mutt, was “the gate [he] had to unlock before writing about anything else.” But then why did he only forge a “truce” with his being an African American, and not fully embrace it? Well, James was simultaneously rebelling against identification as just an African American-James Baldwin was the James Baldwin, not exactly a European, not exactly an African, not even the certain mixture of them both that is an African American. It was in fact the James Baldwin who wrote this essay, not just an African American.

            When this journey into his writing prime was complete, Baldwin ended up with some prolific ideas about a writer’s life that included a theme of resistance. He states how “Any writer, I suppose, feels that the world into which he was born is nothing less than a conspiracy against the cultivation of his talent [and] it is only because the world looks on his talent with such a frightening indifference that the artist is compelled to make his talent important.” Therefore, the attitude of resistance within James Baldwin’s life has caused him to think that all writers should make themselves recognized by resisting the “world”, or the forces, that “look on his talent with…a frightening indifference.” Baldwin also believed that writers should “examine attitudes,…go beneath the surface,…[and] tap the source”,  for example establishing “between himself and…[social] affairs a great distance” so that the writer can take “a long look back.” The only reason why one would want to distance himself from social affairs and look into their past is if he desires to rebel against any belief of that past’s full discovery, the way to rebel being a discovery of new information. If new information is found about that past, then obviously a belief of everything about that past being previously discovered is false. This new information about that past in turn permits the writer to “look forward in a meaningful sense” so he can discover a new phenomenon about the present or future of social affairs, a new one that in turn rebels against any belief in full discovery of the present or future of social affairs. The aforementioned principle can also be used with any other phenomenon that a writer may be interested in, such as science or political affairs. James Baldwin, you little rebel…



Baldwin's Debut Novel

            But why did all of the efforts at rebellion here succeed in an excellent fashion? Baldwin went on to ultimately identify himself as the James Baldwin, defeat forces that oppressed his palpable writing talent, and discover new phenomena in the past, present, and future of social affairs with his classic writings that include Go Tell It On the Mountain.  Well, the answer is that intelligent Baldwin insured that he always knew exactly what he was rebelling against. In his childhood, he was rebelling against what his elders told him specifically in the area of literature. If he just rebelled against everything that his elders told him, he would have probably ended up a crackpot hobo living on some forgotten corner of Candy land. In his life as a writer, he specifically rebelled against the forces that treated his talent with indifference, not anyone else’s. If he concentrated on defeating the forces that treated someone else’s with indifference before concentrating on the defeat of those that treated his with indifference, then his path to success, his self-revolution full of so many resistances, would have probably occupied much more time.

            Now how wondrous would it be to study the Baldwin revolution rather than the American, eh? Or maybe the revolution of Brittany Spears? Miley Cyrus? That woman about to cross the street over there? Charlie Sheen, dare I say it? You? Yes, you-go ahead, because each person alive has all the internal strength he needs to make a robust army. Go ahead, and in the words of the wonderful Jack Dosson (HINT-HINT-WINK-WINK!), "make it count."

            That's all for now, folks. I'll be writing my daily 2,000 words and attempting to recover from an invigorating day at the beach, one where I was almost trampled by an army of lifeguards. In speedos. Yikes.

***CITATION ALERT!
This post used the following source:
"About the Author: James Baldwin." PBS: Public Broadcasting Service. PBS: Public Broadcasting   Service. Web. 31 July 2011.
<http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/episodes/james-baldwin/about-the-author/59/>.

The Picture of Snooki Polizzi

There is a friend of mine who fervently holds two obsessions. One of them is drama-for the last several years, you can find her in the program of pretty much every play or musical produced by my school. The other, and the one that she most imposes on any literature-loving acquaintaince she possesses, is Oscar Wilde. I faintly heard of the man while reading The Guernsey Literary and Potatoe Peel Pie Society (a WONDERFUL book, by the way), what I heard being that he was a rather exquisite author indeed. There were many other books I desired to read, however, and I decided to save the name of this author and his works for a rainy day. But this was before two events transpired:
1. In English class, I was assigned to find a novel whose theme concerned the pertinence of how people viewed others.
2. I realized what a cool name "Dorian Grey" was.
Considering the aforementioned phenomena, I suddenly had to read the novel.
     Out of the deepest crevices of Mr. Wilde's mind comes painter Basil (which just happens to be my favorite seasoning-another reason to love this book!) Hallward, a man whose entire creative force has been possessed by a breathtakingly handsome lad named Dorian Gray. On a pleasant afternoon when he is passionately working on a portrait of Dorian, Basil tells his dear friend, Lord Henry Watton, of his almost unhealthy obsession with the young man. Lord Henry expresses his fascination with the phenomenon and is therefore extremely jubilant when Dorian himself drops by Basil's art studio in order to stand for Hallward's portrait just as he has been doing for the past several weeks.  However, fascination is not all that he expresses; Lord Henry is an ardent hedonist (person who believes that the goal of every action should be to obtain personal pleasure) who absolutely adores sharing the philosophy he maintains with others especially when the minds of those others are malleable enough to be twisted by hedonism's wayward, pleasure-driven ideas. Dorian unfortunately falls prey to the attractive naughtiness of the notions, by the culmination of the session being thoroughly convinced that "when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything." Therefore, he prays in a fervor of self-pity that  instead of himself aging, the wears of time would show on the perfect face of Basil's portrait. And that, through the wonders of literature, they do...but not entirely. Blemishes caused by aging, you see, are not all that the mug on the canvas begins to portray as the years pass. Because of Dorian's adoption of the hedonist philosophy from Lord Henry, many selfish and perverse acts begin to inhabit his lifespan and poison it with their abhorrence. With each of these acts, each of these resistances against the righteousness of his consience, an imperfection reveals itself on Basil's work. An unpleasant curve of the lip, a wrinkle near the eye, a deformation of the posture-something that irrevocably alters the image of breathtaking youth and virginity that Basil initially depicted on that canvas. Dorian also posssesses the ability to actually witness his soul's gradual progression into the deepes seas of maliciousess since Basil gave him the piece. And the best aspect of it all? Even as he witnesses their devestating effect on his soul, Dorian does not cease performing his unrighteous executions. There is a bit of hesitation when he first discovers the portrait's true nature, but the sum of a few reassuring Lord Henry-isms and one awesome plot twist (I'll leave you to discover its indisputable awesomeness) secures Hedonisms mammoth and active role in Dorian's life. So the selfishness and crime continue, as does the decay...
     Right here, right now, writing this, I suddenly realize that there's a person in this world to whom this story, this experience, rather, would be invaluable. Can you guess the individual in question from the title of this post? Can you? Did you get it yet? I think you did-that's right, folks, our favorite chica from MTV's hit reality show, Jersey Shore....the ONE....the ONLY...SNOOKI! Can you hear me, Snookster? You should really read this book. I bet that you'll enjoy it so much that it will change the course of your utterly Jerseylicious life. Here's why:
     Any guy on the street knows that the exact case presented in Dorian Gray is completely impossible-every person must succumb to the eternal force of age as time endures. However, the notion of some individuals of the world being protected from the repurcussions of their actions by a species of personal shield is absolutely correct. Some people-ahem, Ms. Polizzi-can maintain their general acceptance, and in some cases their overwhelmingly desirable status, within society regardless of what unrighteous actions they may perform. This is because the repurcussions of those actions are outweighed by some other force of considerable strength that the individual in question possesses; this force can be the degree of one's social status, one's previous accomplishments, one's appearance, or most commonly (and most detrimentally as well) the entertainment of society with one's negative actions. Dorian's shield, for example, is his eternal youth and beauty despite the ages and any sinister actions he executes. But each of these contemporary indiciduals possess a "picture" alongside their shield, ones that can potentially harm their lives much more than that of Mr. Grey's . You see, each bad action performed by one in our world makes a permanent inprint on her soul. This imprint that will indisputably influence her life in a customarily negative mode at any time proceeding the time it was forged. Dorian has the fortunate capability of hiding his picture away in a remote recess of his house after placing a thick blanket over it; people in this world, however, do not have this luxery. Others in our reality will eventually storm into one's house, locate that portrait, tear any device used to alter their ultimate interpretation of it, and show the depiction with all of its waywardness and reputation-soiling power to the outside world. And the more you hide, the more there is to be discovered and the more fruits others sense will be obtained from discovery. If one is a member of the select few who find that their portrait's hiding place is utterly successful in guiling the general public, there is, fortunately, still an ordeal for him as well. Dorian continues to look at the portrait throughout his life, even at times when he doubts the thing's eventual use of its  reputation-destroying power. He still ventures up to that old schoolroom where the portrait is hidden and sits, staring at the phenomenon, for days on end. Every blemish, every sign of decay that causes him so pain...he inhales all of it through extended periods of wild self-torture. So that's right, Snooki-even if nobody cares that you got arrested when you eventually look for work in the however-distant future, the ghost of that action can haunt you until the day you perish. Next time, think twice before you decide to get wasted on a beach and oh-so-cordially scream "Get the f**k off me!" to a horde of policemen. You know, just a tip.
     What can those of us who are innocent do? Well, not supporting the shields of the aforementioned people would be an exquisite start. We can achieve this with the simple act of not talking about these people; Jersey Shore would not possess half of the fans it does if the show was not touched upon so frequently in both the  regular public conversation and the media. People should at least know about the show, but the constant drilling of its contents into their heads causes them to possess no choice except to indeed watch it. And the fact that the "establishment" is so rejecting of the program makes firebrand youths love it even more. Tuning in to see when DJ Pauly D and the Situation are up to each weak is a mode of expressing their discontent with the ardent conservatism around them. If you want to avoid a fire, don't exuberantly stress your prohibition of playing with matches.
     As for me, it's April Break Time! WOO-HOO!  Besides that wonderful plus, I am thoroughly enjoying the fact that two of my favorite foods in the world-jelly beans and matzoh-are in stores simultaneously at the present time. Yum! Oh, and that that reminds me-for those who celebrate it, have a wonderful Passover, and for some who don't celebrate it, have a Hoppy Easter! Picture the re-do of this sight as a matzoh-filled Easter Basket from me to ya'll...only one that you don't have to find. And speaking of springy things...
     What books do yoose guys plan to sink your teeth into before summer?