Online Lesson #4

STEP TWO

1. The ephemeral light dipped in a wonder spectrum on the green clovers snatched the glares of people, and the aroma of the clovers evoked the nostrils, tantalised the tastebuds, recaptured the evening mood of serenity.

2. The vast majority of the clovers whipped out a drooling attraction towards it; trapping a sick obsession for anyone who dared wonder upon it.

3. The priceless picturesque of the beautiful clovers drugged anyone who even stared at it; tingle their olfactory sense and played along with their visual sense by the very sight of it.

4. These clovers were simply beautiful; they assured possession of anyone's attention and ensured the attracted, palpitating heart beats of any kind.

STEP THREE

Passage C : Boneshaker by Cherie Priest.

" around the thigh- deep tidal pools and past the jagged crags of cliff " the words jagged crags portray assonance in the vowel 'a', hence putting emphasis on the 'jagged crags' , describing how extreme the crags on the cliff can be, and hence illustrates the fuller meaning of the runoff, rundown system on the Outskirts.

" Bleached by the ocean and the rain, worn by storms and battered by incoming waves, the tube was decrepit." There again another assonance in " worn by storms" , putting emphasis on the 'o' sound, listing importance to note the degree of rundown, and it shows the storms even supported it.

Passage D : Distances by Vandana Singh"

" now she was back to crawling across a two-d floor like a little desert roll-bug" It is a simile drawing relation between her as the desert roll-bug. It is a simile as there is the word 'like'.

 " she had to touch the stone cold walls", assonance on the vowel 'o', strongly emphasizing that the whole environment was terrifying, and eerie.

STEP FOUR

The ephemeral light dipped in a wonder spectrum on the green clovers snatched the glares of people, and the aroma of the clovers evoked the nostrils, tantalised the tastebuds, recaptured the evening mood of serenity. ->

The ephemeral light dipped in a wonder spectrum on the green clovers, and snatched the glares the people who were like babies staring at a brand new strange unique rainbow- the aroma of the clovers evoked the nostrils, tantalised the tastebuds, recaptured the evening mood of serenity.

The vast majority of the clovers whipped out a drooling attraction towards it; trapping a sick obsession for anyone who dared wonder upon it. ->

The vast majority of the clovers whipped out a drooling attraction towards it; trapping a sick obsession for anyone who dared wonder upon it- they seemed as awestruck as a kid in luxury cars.

STEP FIVE

In Passage C, Boneshaker, the mood of an eerie, rundown environment was brought out, through the vivid descriptions on the setting, and the descriptive and detailed words bring out a sense of reality in the story ourselves, hence putting us in the mood. The whole setting creates a sad, demolished mood, whereby evoked through vivid description and feelings on how Briar felt, and her thoughts. Such descriptions alone completely illustrate the excellence in which how the author brings out the solemn monotonous mood.

In Passage D, Distances, the author portrays the exact process in which Anasuya makes her ways to the atrium, and throughout this long paragraph shows many many descriptions and thoughts and feelings upon how she thinks the hallways are. As similes are injected in the extract, the mood of anxiety, and mystery would be carried along with it. 

STEP SIX

The ephemeral light dipped in a wonder spectrum on the green clovers, and snatched the glares the people who were like babies staring at an unique rainbow- the aroma of the clovers evoked the nostrils, tantalised the tastebuds, recaptured the evening mood of serenity. The tranquil evening sun dawned upon the vast majority land, weighing down the burdened, yet gentle warmth that caused sooth. The lightness of the earth paced up the evening's peace- symbolically, and significantly comparable to gold. 

STEP SEVEN. FINAL STEP (:

Bleached in an awesome spectrum of golden magnificent sunshine, which baked the vast land beneath it; the soothing warmth contributed to the gentleness, the peace, which these green clovers emitted in a wonderful, yet creative array.The radiant and composed glare of the tranquil evening from the amber, mahogany sun, softly caressed the clovers with much respect and love like an adult to his child.

The lime , emerald colouring of the clovers, all so arranged in the vast majority, standing out amongst all others, outshone the rest of the yellow sunflowers, the daffodils, the roses, in beauty. The clovers simply reflected the imagery of beauty, vividly bringing out the light, expressions of relaxation and evening's rest. The residents retreated to their refuge, all envisioning a luxury awaiting them at home, but reveries were interrupted by the 'even more attractive' clovers, which left their nostrils evoked by the aroma, tastebuds tantalised, and was recaptured by the evening mood of serenity.

A zephyr caressed nature's beauty with such affection; even it was attracted to it. The daffodils, roses, and sunflowers stood in utmost jealousy of the clovers, and pulled a long face; they seemed to wither. The picturesque, seemingly perfect view of mother nature, was incomplete without the contribution of the lightness of the earth, which paced up the evening's pace, and dawned the excellence of the beauty symbolically, and yet significantly comparable to gold.

Blog-Writing Prompt #12

" I'm tired..."


Mysteriously beneath the thick façade of my energetic, rosy, cheery, excited self, lies a drained, exhausted,tiresome body too stressed out for words; the morose expressions from within concealed along with it, the forlorn smile camouflaged, the sweaty soul dragging down in a constant tiresome pull to the ground.

The root of all these exhaustion I battle, stems from factors too abstract for others to consume. Stress underlies immense psychological pressure, that may affect us negatively in inchoate situations; and would therefore precede a probable solitude person.

I hate stress, as the negative impacts it may suffuse me with may be too overwhelming for me, Tom, Dick, or Harry. Anyway, life is not a bed of roses; inevitably would come across stress- but there is a difference. A huge difference. The differential fact is in that we all have control over stress- the turning point in which WHO has the utmost courage to possess the ability to control it.

To release your tired exhausted bodies, I may offer you a minuscule sum of advice, which worked on me, and should work on you too.

Firstly, when you feel overboard, when the stress is reaching your head, when your body starts losing control of itself, when you become tired, the first thing to do, is to take very deep breaths. As such, you are cooled down, and your position of mind would be accurate, hence allowing you to take a break- if you continue getting fussed up and frustrated, you would be intensifying the anger in you, putting in negative persistence;  you might not take any breaks at all, yet walk into the trap of stress, leading you into a worsening state of tiresome body. It may seem pretty simple, but trust me. Taking deep breaths alone will help you.

Secondly, to release the bursting, burning sensation of the psychological tiredness, find a good, serene spot, and take your time to meditate. Meditation brings down the energy in ones soul and it is essential to suppress stress like this, the stress originates from the persistent inner groaning which continues to grumble, and tires out your physical body. No sooner will you feel tired, than the overwhelming stress burden you down. Thus, the emphasis on a good, relaxed mind is important. Mediate solely, think on anything you enjoy doing, shift your focus to the peace that everyone possesses when you look at the right perceptive. Hence the essence in meditating will really soothe your furious, yet tired body.

Everyone has a tired body to repress, the essence is then in the ability to curtail the negative impacts of it; by the above points. I would consider tiredness to be a psychological and physical battle. One cannot be physically refreshed but mentally drained.  Although I agree tiredness stems from stress, the problem lies within oneself, and his determination to curb most of it. Most people cannot handle stress, hence the difficulty to conquer this relentless tired bodies of ours, putting an extra crunch to work hard, and yet release stress; tired bodies will soon vanish.

My Neighbourhood

Blog Writing Prompt #11

Found Poem on To Kill A Mocking Bird:


The character I have chosen is Atticus. (:

I am going to write a found poem on Atticus, and his characteristics.

Atticus was a fifty,
not strong, but feeble,
old, but manly.
He was never too tired
for keep-away, but too old.

Atticus did not do much- anything,
he worked in an office-not in a drugstore.
Neither did he drive a dump-truck,nor the sheriff,
nor farm, nor work in a garage, he
sadly did not arouse admiration

He wore glasses, near blind, and had to turn his head
to look from his right eye.He never went hunting,
never played poker, nor fish, nor drink, nor smoke, but
sat in the living room and read.

He was inconspicuous, and humble,
did not do anything the schoolmates' fathers did,
possessed several abilities, like being
a good marksman- he kept it from his children.

Here's my poem!
Benedict (:

Blog- Writing prompt #11

Use specific sensory details, describe accurately the neighborhood where you live.

The sweltering heat weighing me down onto the baked gravel, intensified futher, leaving the stinging sensation on my skin, which brought about frustration , pain, and disspleasure. The old pine trees blew along with the gust of wind- which came to my skin's rescue, and the beautiful flowers bloomed throughout. The scent of the flowers left a therapeutic mark on me, all too sweet to tingle my olfactory sense. Chirpings and singings of the sparrows, guided my gaze to their nest, up the old tree, which brought about shade. Then, someone tapped me from behind.......

BLog Writing Prompt #10

Write about a vivid childhood memory of an event that helped to influence the person you are today.

Ever since I was in primary school, I went to a soccer competition, to represent my school in the soccer team.  I remember vividly that I was the goalkeeper, and we were against a very powerful school- Monfort primary. I remember once when there was a need for me to rusuh out to collect the ball, the striker of the other team came and kicked my face . It all happened in a flash, where excruciating pain started to stun me, and blood oozed out from the wound immediately- of which I was scared, and my teacher immediately substituted me off the pitch, with me clutching my wound. It was devastating. The next thing I knew was that the substitute goal keeper had let in a goal. In disappointment, I started to nurse my wound.

Well, this injury sure made me a more careful person, and to think twice of what you should do, lest the consequence be too severe. It gives a sense of sudden self-awareness, into the person I am today- very aware and cautious.

Singaporean Short Story

Mass media indoctrinates us with confusing and misleading complications of different countries having their own special pride- they advocate their own country and practice nationalism very often. Essentially, it is important to find in within us pride and love for our country, putting a focus line in par with patriotism. Never ever had it been imaginable that a thirteen year old Singaporean held such an experiential comprehension of patriotism after that incident......

It was 1942. Rafe lived his past 13 years in serenity and wealth, enjoying life and taking everything he had for granted. As a zephyr of wind caressed his amber cheeks, he felt an instinctive tug, unbeknownst for the cause of it,he felt it was unusual; he rarely had such tugs. His sensitivity to danger inclined rapidly when the tugs changed from sporadic to frequent, telling him to leave the country with his parents at all costs; he was confirmed immediately when Rafe's younger brother Rafferty tugged him on the shirt and pleaded," Brother, it seems like we're in danger. Can we leave the country? I have a feeling Singapore will be stricken with a catastrophe too gargantuan on a scale. Please? " Rafe's palpitation ceased to end; instead it grew more furious- all he was thinking was : What should I do? Singapore seemed all to protective, and was doing very well with its entrepot trade, why was there a need to leave the country? Why had he felt such instincts so unfathomable till tumultuous inner groaning of fear  never seemed to stop- at all.

He had his answer soon.

"BOOM!"The tranquillity of the city was shattered by the thunderous bombings and air raids from the Japanese Zero Fighter Planes were professionally conducted on  Singapore; and from this very moment onwards, devastation and distraught,frenzy and chaos ruled the country- it never seemed a Singapore ever. Rafe's house was far from the bombings, but it was deafening enough to generate a jolting effect, to interrupt him from his worrying instincts. "What is happening?!" Rafe stammered in utter shock and disbelief, as he stood transfixed to the earth, his semi-consciousness snatched off him.

"Rafe! Run!!! Hurry!!!" Rafe spun around in panic just to see a Japanese soldier man-handling Rafferty, flinging him everywhere and threatened to kill him. "Hey! Stop it! "Rafe commanded the soldier as if a commando commanding his whole battalion; no sooner had his command been ignored than he landed a huge right fist into the chest of the soldier. Clutching his chest, the soldier struggled with his windpipe; seemingly damaged-much to the relief of Rafe and his brother- he started coughing out blood had chest spasms frantically desperate to clear his windpipe from the rushing oozing blood- his face turned purple; his whole body shivered and curled up in torment- it seemed pretty much like a mutation.  " Run Rafferty! GO!" Rafe shrieked in apprehension as the whole army was charging their way.

The whole city was strewn into pieces, the harbour was bombed, the shipyard was bombed, people were robbed, killed instantaneously, tortured. Singapore was in pieces; a few minutes ago, rather peaceful, now, catastrophic. The soldiers shot anyone whom they saw with their bayonets and raped any woman they felt like; the rubble on the floor intensified, the pressure and shakings of the ground caused many to fall and be picked on by the soldiers. The ships were all blown up, and it was an emergency; the Singapore military rushed their way down to the city to protect the lives there. It was a clash of the militaries, ammunition were all over the place, bullets flying everywhere, it became a broken city. Corpses lied on the floor, leaving stenches of disgust, and shun. The victims shrieked in hysteria. The body count leapfrogged to a high- it was a total frenzied disaster.

It seemed like a captain targeted Rafe and Rafferty alone; due to the fact that Rafe had beaten up one of his men so badly.

Both Rafe and Rafferty had long been sprinting on their wobbling feet, which were bruised till turquoise from the impact on the rubble, and the sweltering heat weighed them down, as much as they could not control, everything seemed to be targeting them. Panic punctuated their hearts as they were shell-shocked, yet now at the position whereby they were clinging on to dear life. They twisted and turned through the distressed yet messy corpses, and even hobbled pass many bodies under the trapped rubble; not ignoring the stampede which was contributed by a fleeing majority, which worsened the whole environment.

Rafferty sunk into deep thoughts : What am I to do?Death is awaiting me. I HAVE TO RUN. It is the only option I have left.  A huge bomb blasted 50 metres from them, and the impact and shudder of the shockwave ripped Rafferty from his consciousness. As he began to plunge into unconsciousness, he started to think about the tug he had in the morning; he should have listened to it. It was too late. How would he now become? Would he become one of the corpses on the rubble? Or would a miracle save him. Yes, only a miracle can save him now; the Japanese soldiers are catching up very fast, devouring the distance between them second by second. And before his mind shut down into an hysterical silence, the last thing he thought of was Rafe.

Meanwhile Rafe had huddled himself away and dodged the shockwave, and hidden himself well in a dark alley.He could not stand the sight of the corpses but his attention was caught to a commotion on the other side of the alley.

A Japanese soldier had captured 10 young men and shouted at them ," If anyone of you here dare die , I shall release the rest of the 9. They stared among each other intensively, none wanting to sacrifice himself. In laughter, the soldier screamed in a deafening shrill" DIE YOU PEOPLE!!", and pointed his bayonet and them. This moment, another young girl who had witnessed the commotion went up to the soldier and said " If you stop your invasion on Singapore, I will definitely die for her. As for them, do not kill them, take me out instead. I want to die for the country proudly. That is my last wish, but ironically seems to be coming very fast. So please, I beg you, to cease all attacks on Singapore. It is my homeland, and I do not want to see Singapore like this; it hurts me. Kill me. Spare Singapore and these boys."

As Rafe went agape, and admired the bravery and patriotism such a small girl had. He wanted to stand up to see what would happen when suddenly a large rod hit him on the head. As Rafe now, dipped into yet consciousness, realized how patriotism could have such an influential impact on such a small girl, he felt shamed and digraceful, but his awe stood in admiration of such nationalism. Before he went blank, the tsunami of thoughts flooded his mind,  he thought he was going to die. To him, death was imminent.

It seemed like an eternity when Rafe finally awoke, and he rubbed his bleary eyes, glancing in unfamiliarity of the four walls he faced.Beside him was Rafferty. It dawned upon him that the Singapore  military managed to chase off the Japanese. Rafe stared at the aqua clear sky- no longer tumultuous- and the only thing Rafe could think of was when that little girl showed such patriotism and identity for her country. She stood up for 10 other guys and her country for her own life. She thoroughly deserved such admiration for linking such an identity with Singapore. It was completely experiential and amazing. As fear turned into joy, I started to think of my last wish too.

-Benedict Chin

What is your favourite character in To Kill A Mocking Bird. Blog Writing prompt #8

Who is your favourite character in To Kill A Mockingbird and why?
What makes him or her appealing to you?

I think Atticus is my favourite character, as he is gradually, and progressively introduced to the story by the writer, and stirs curiosity of who is is at the start of the story. At the beginning of the story , the Scout normally mentions about "her father" , all of whom we do not know , until later on whereby the revelation of Atticus is actually her father. I find this slow revelation accommodating the fame he will receive later on when his bravery is illustrated during his defense against a black man.

I find him very self/personal- striving for his own self achievements,  when he even risks his own friendship with his friends, and strides into a hole of humility, when he fights against his own people; the lawyers in Maycomb, for a black man. It is a form of satisfactory gain when the decision has been made to speak up for the black man.

I find him appealing as he is described in the story as a rather introvert, and a bookworm, but also very profound; he wants Scout to hear whatever conversation he has with anyone. I admire his bravery, and his principles of being an up right lawyer who sacrifices his own pride for self-satisfaction. Throughout the story he keeps his thinkings unknown to Scout or Jem, it shows he is a very sentimental and perplex-minded good old lawyer.

He possesses hidden abilities  which was revealed later on, like his marksmanship and his accuracy, but he does not ever show off. As such, I truly admire his humble personality, tagged along with specific talents.

To Kill A Mockingbird ( Tolerance) LA ONLINE LESSON #3

Here is the link to my google docs on the topic on true tolerance. 

https://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AdZED9_MlSFfZGhqOWQ1MzZfMGM5MjNzNw&hl=en

This document shows that Boo Radley, is very tolerant in many ways of the book, whether or not he is, or he was the cup of tea many people in Maycomb wanted; despite being the mythical bogeyman, in which everyone is curious to find out. Upon rumors and gossips, the painted impression on him is that he is a cooped up, mentally dysfunctional boy, who loves to eat weird weird stuff, much unfathomable to everyone.  

This document shows that Boo Radley tolerates the townsfolk's gossips, so as to accommodate and contribute to the town peace, and serenity. Our group describes Boo Radley and the townsfolk as very tolerable to the gossipers, despite the physical disturbance done to his house ; through breaking in his house;and with his tolerance, he manages to earn the respect of some of the townspeople. 

And the shifts in perspective on him changes from devil to angel, in the story, show that he is not as intolerable as gossiped, and is much lovable. 

When he saved Scout and Jem from Bob Ewells, he is then recognized as the person whom they admire, and it is all from the cause of the liberty, a liberty rooted and stormed from the extreme tolerance of Boo Radley. Such liberty will be , and is very appreciated in any city, and thus illustrating the emphasis on true tolerance over a long phase of time, which changes perspective of a person. 

So tolerance does change great things and the way people think of one another, and the views of each other; plus the fact that people who were unrecognized and not very appreciated at first, will be changed through the liberty of tolerance. 

10 minute blog post entry #7

Who is your favourite fictional character and why? What makes him or her memorable for you?
My favourite fictional character would be Uchiha Madara from the anime "Naruto" . The anime tells of an adolescent "Naruto Uzumaki" , who is a ninja and aspires to be the Hokage, the most powerful ninja in the village.  In Naruto, there are antagonists too -an organization called the "Akatsuki". The leader of the Akatsuki is none other than Uchiha Madara, or nicknamed " Tobi" . Uchiha Madara is one of the founders of the Uchiha Clan and its current leader. To me, he is the most powerful ninja besides the protagonist, obviously, Naruto.

I like Madara as he is very very powerful and no one up till now is capable of defeating him; In battle he has been shown capable of making his body intangible for up to five minutes at a time, leaving him visible but otherwise impervious to most forms of damage unless while executing a counterattack. He can also teleport over great distances at will and can use his Sharingan to suck opponents into a world inside him.

I like Uchiha Madara because of his powerful abilities and the inevitable fact that he is unstoppable. Because he is an antagonist, I think he will get beaten up in the end, but I really would love to watch that fight.

He is memorable to me because of his special technique to teleport and become intangible at will. Imagine that. Such indestructibility would make me remember him as the most powerful "bad guy" ; hopefully he would defeat Naruto, ( or maybe even Sasuke Uchiha). Being illustrated and portrayed as the most powerful ninja yet, there is no reason for any teenager to not hold this powerhouse ninja memorable.

benedict(: