Parody & Satire

Satire is a from of art - it can be any sorts: videeos, literature, pictures etc - that intends to ridicule a group, person or the society. It mostly uses irony or sarcasm but parody, juxtaposition, exaggeration, comparison and analogy is used too, according to Wikipedia.

I want to talk about the Keducation in a way like the body rituals of Nacirema we read in class. People always emphasize being creative when they don't give us a chance and also encourage in words for students to think out side of the box when students are always stuck in the big square building for hours. I think that it is just the opposite of what adults wants the kids to be and what they do for children.

Story in a Story - Chain Writing

A boy named Garrioch who was five years old was playing in the yard. He was playing with his dog. But suddenly his dog started to dig a ground as if he was summoned by something. It kept digging Digging and digging no matter what the boy said to stop him.
"Stop doggy! You are a Bad boy Doggy!" cried the boy.
All of a sudden the digging stopped. The dog had a bok in his mouth when he came out from the hole that he digged.
"What is this??"
the book looked old and aged since it was going all yellowish and he could smell that it was a old book.
To my Great Great Grandson it was written on the front.
"Wow this looks old let's read it!"
The boy opened the first page of the book and started to read it slowly and loudly.

While many people might believe that the world eventually settles for the better. It is not the case for the absolute majority of those in the world. Everyone lives in the hope that they will succeed either by a turn of fate, stroke of luck, or through abilities. But sometime in their lives, one has to comfort the truth. This is a message to everyone and particularly to you. You are most unlikely to succeed.

I am unlikely to succeed. When I confronted that truth there seem to be no reason for me to live. I am a loser. I should kill myself. So I went up to the roof. I left my will next to my shoes and looked down. It was pretty high enough to kill me. That was when I saw a dandelion struggling to survive between the bricks. And I began to think that my life is too valuable to be taken away like this so easily. So I came down from the roof.

The fact that I had nothing to eat or that I didn’t have a place to live in hadn’t changed at all. I almost thought about jumping off a bridge this time but then I saw that dandelion again. At first glance I thought it was just another wild flower. When I looked at it more closely, it seemed unexpectedly familiar. Although it was a crazy idea, the idea that the two flowers where exactly the same came into my head. Maybe this flower is not ordinary flower. Maybe it possesses magical abilities!

I kept examining the flowers for more than one day. The more I looked however; it seemed to be just a wild flower you can see anywhere. But since it was my life-saver I decided to water it. (it was summer and it hadn’t rained for days). When I watered the flower it suddenly shone brightly. Then I heard someone say “Hooray!!!” but didn’t notice that it came from the flower. It turned out that the flower was the genie from the magic lamp. The lamp was taken by a witch and the genie ended up in the flower.

“Thanks for telling me your story Alex” a woman says

“But oh… I can’t really remember what happened after that………..Genie talked to me and said………” a boy went on.

It was a small white room and the woman is writing down something very quickly. She smiles and says bye to the boy.

The boy came out into the street and looked back at the house with a dissatisfied expression.

“I don’t think she believed any of that” said the boy.

“Well who cares?” said a voice out of nowhere. A genie materialized on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, who cares?” the boy shrugged and went home with the genie, hanging from his shoulder dangling its feet.

 

"Hmmm.....I wonder is this a story written by one of my ancestors? If it is I think I might be able to use this story in my creative writing class!! I think this is a great story!" exclaimed the boy.
"Wurf Wurf" the Dog barked.
After Two days it was a creative writng class time. The boy read the story that he found at the back of his yard and the teacher thought that it was a very creative piece of writnig written by him. He got an A on his writing assignment. The first A he have ever got. After he got his first A he became a top student in his writng class because he started to et interst in writing stories. He went to Harvard English Literature course where he graduated and became a successful writer and he lived happily ever after.

 "Umm......Mr. Garrioch why are you telling us this story?" a boy from 11B4 class asked.
"Well, you guys seem to be bored and all about to doze off, so I thought I might tell an interesting story. Wasn't it a pleasant nice story?"
"Ummmm..............Well, I guess so......"
"Okay this is one of my own creative writing story that I created and I hope that you will make up your own and post it on your blogs by tomorow. Bye guys this is the end of class for today!"

#2 draft for personal reflective essay - My name is LEE BO RI

“Mom, why is my name Bori? Kids in my school tease me. They say that I’m a plant and keep saying barley," complained an 8 year old girl. In Korean barley is pronounced as "Bo Ri.”

“It is because they don’t know the meaning Bori. Bori means a very good thing in Buddhism. It means that the person finds enlightenment through practicing asceticism,” said the mom trying to cheer up the girl.

I was young, spoiled, greedy, and full of self-confidence back then. But as I grew up I began to realize that my name wasn’t as terrible as I thought.

Being beneficial to people near me and helping people who need help: This is the thing that every grown up would emphasize to me, since it is the meaning my name has.

I mean, who wouldn’t? Think about it. If you go to school, you hear your teacher explaining the meaning of your name. If you go to your neighbor, you hear them commenting about your name.

"Why does every grown up emphasize being nice to people? I don’t get it! Why do I need to listen to these things? I hate my name!"

Not because I felt worthwhile doing it, just because I didn’t want to hear nagging from others about myself and my name, I did volunteer work. I know it is wrong to do volunteer work because of the fact that I didn’t want to hear nagging, but I did it for that reason anyway.

My dad always went abroad to Chile for one month every year for volunteer work. Obviously, I went with him not because I wanted to, but because I just wanted to get away from all those things that grown-ups would say about my name. The work I did in Chile was caring for children who have lost their parents through disasters or diseases.

I went abroad for a couple of years, and got to know a few people over there. There was this girl who was older than me who I got close with while I was playing with the children.

It was about the fourth time I went to Chile, when I found myself changing.

“Hey, you came again! Wow, it’s been such a long time!” said the girl.

“I know! I'm ready to do it. Is there anything I can do to help?” I replied.

“What?” She was surprised and her eyes widened.

“I’m so interested to do this! Did I say something wrong?”

 “No, it just seemed that you changed. You didn’t seem to like playing with these kids when you first came here, but now you just love to play with them. Look! There are lots of kids who like you a lot here, do you know that?”

This was the moment that my thought about my name changed completely. Since then, I've tried to live up to my name and the meaning my name has. From then on, grown-ups didn’t scold or nag me anymore. But I still liked to volunteer and help others. It became a part of my nature; trying to help others and volunteering. No one told me to do it, but I just enjoyed and felt worthwhile while I was working more and more. From that moment, things about me changed a lot. I began to help others around me and learn to respect others and be less greedy. I thought more positively about things that happened to me, instead of being so depressed by things. I started to listen carefully to everyone, even if it was nagging and scolding. I tried to change and live by my name; being beneficial to people near me and helping those in need. I think that I have been living by my name and due to my name I have changed a lot. And I do mean – a lot.

Yesterday as I was taking the elevator down, a teacher asked me: "Your name is Bori, as in the Buddhism?”

“Yes! Do you know what it means?”I asked him.

“Well, doesn’t it have something to do with helping others?”

“Yes, it means being beneficial and helpful to other people. And I like my name very much!”

I said this proudly beaming a large smile at him.