Thursday, February 13, 2014

Listening: Superhero Mode

Super powers. Super heroes. Super crazy. Who, as a child, didn't want to become a superheroe? I mean seriously. Who wouldn't want to be the strongest or the biggest or the fastest creature on earth? How about the power of invisibility or having the power to read minds? Many of us wanted that as kids, but who actually achieved it? In Act II of this podcast, Zora is a very peculiar and dedicated woman who was the closest to becoming a superhero. As Kelly McEvers described her, she is definitely not the typical woman you see on a daily basis. Ever since she was little girl, she was committed to becoming a superhero. Zora created a list in which she explicitly states the steps needed in order for her to achieve her goal. Incredibly enough, she completed almost all of the things that she wrote in her list. Her story is quite interesting and it really captivated me since the beginning. When I was done listening to it, I thought about my dreams as a little girl and realized that I'm not aiming to achieve them maybe because my tastes and preferences have changed. But then I wonder did Zora's preferences and tastes change throughout her growing process? I think it's very brave of her to follow a dream that was cultivated at a very young age. 


I think that what captivated me while listening to this story was the tone and diction of the podcast. When McEvers narrates about Zora's story, she uses a very monotonous tone. However, right when the Zora starts talking, the mood changes; the story begins to have a more sincere, honest and earnest tone. That's what makes it so interesting: she begins to tell her experience in a very careless manner, and even uses humor (which I love). Her diction is very clear and very relaxed which also makes it more interesting to me. The syntax is also very relaxed and her register is informal which also makes it more captivating to the audience because it's more relatable. 

On the other hand, Act IV seemed quite boring to me. It wasn't as enjoyable as Act II simply because of the way that both podcasts are structured. In Act IV the tone used is more serious and informative. It is also structured as an interview and it has a more advanced diction. I simply wasn't as hooked as in the first podcast I heard. The interviewer talks with Jason Bleibtreu and they talk about two twins that are from a rebel army in Burma, who supposedly possess superpowers. I don't know if it has to do with the tone or the diction, but I didn't consider Act IV as credible as Act II. Maybe because in Act II she is narrating the events that happened to her. While in Act IV, the man is talking about a third party, the twins, who seem to possess these powers. In other words, it doesn't affect him directly so it's not something that happened to him. 

There is obviously a huge juxtaposition between the two podcasts. The topic is the same for both stories, however the way that the stories are told are very different and that caused a different effect on me. Things like tone, syntax and diction affect the rhetorical effects of any type of story, and in this case the effect was more positive after I heard Act II. I declare Wonder Woman the winner of this battle!

Olimpic Slavery


After reading this article about the Winter Olympics and it's incredible resemblance to The Hunger Games, I had a chance to reflect about the slave-ish similarities that olympic athletes experience. Written by a luge professional, it's clear in the article that her experience proved how toilsome an athlete's career is. 

I believe it's absurd the way that athletes have to depend on corporate sponsorship because it takes over athletes' lives and limits their freedom to do certain things. I can only imagine how terrible this woman's childhood could have been if she was working as an athlete for the US. Being a little girl, she was just as any other adult worker in America, yet she wasn't getting paid decently - or paid at all for that matter. Corporate sponsorship can really exploit these athletes' capacity to work and train. In her case, Verizon was simply owning her. She was not allowed to go to public events without mentioning the company's name. Basically, she became a Verizon spokesperson. 

I can definitely see the similarity with The Hunger Games. She is just like another Katniss Everdeen. They both left everything behind: childhood, free time, studies. And additionally, they weren't even getting the right compensation for that.  What's really sad is how some athletes don't even receive any corporate sponsorship or even government help, an so their only way to be able to go to the olympics is to work and train at the same time, which is an incredibly horrendous combination considering that training is already an arduous job. I simply feel that olympic athletes are a version of slaves, who are unjustly treated relative to their input of work. As the author would agree, athletes and people aware of the problem are the only ones who can do something to change this. 

Sunday, February 9, 2014

A New Graphic Novel

Now that I'm done with Gonzo: A Graphic Biography of Hunter S. Thompson, I began reading Palestine by Joe Sacco. At first, when deciding on what graphic novel to read, I glanced through this book and there was something that stood out. It stood out in a negative way, actually. I'm talking about how visually detailed the art is in this book. I saw pages of crowded and crowded drawings, too many lines and shades, and the shapes of the text boxes were also set up in a very disorganized way. I guess I might have a bit of OCD, but I know for sure that I like things more the minimalist way. I know it as a fact, since I'm taking AP 2D Design, that I work better with minimalist designs. I've proved it to myself that my art works have a better final outcome if I keep it simple. So I just kind of started reading it, trying to ignore the visual overload and it has taken me some time to get used to it. At least for the first 50 pages I've felt that it is too much visual saturation. Here's an example of the type of art that the author uses in this graphic novel:



Another thing that I found in this graphic novel, was the style of portraying thoughts and spoken words. I hadn't seen this before. Sacco utilizes the bubble shape text boxes to represent the words that the characters speak. When the character thinks, he uses a rectangular shape for text. The picture above (at the right) is an example of the way he alters those bubble shaped and rectangular text boxes. 

Additionally, I found something that I remembered from way back when we read Thank You For Arguing. I found a chiasmus that said, "a land without a people for a people without a land!" (pg. 12). This just proves the fact that rhetoric is implemented in pretty much everything we read, hear and see. I was quite impressed that I remembered the term chiasmus, for my memory is pretty bad. 

Here's a vocab word I found: 

Affidavits: (noun) a written statement confirmed by oath for use as evidence in court. 



Monday, February 3, 2014

Living The Comic Life

Having finished Gonzo: A Graphic Biography of Hunter S. Thompson I feel that I'm starting to truly embrace the power of comics. Graphic novels bring two things that I love together: visual art and words. While reading this one, I was on the look out for any patterns or interesting things within the comic itself. The story was good, quite interesting, and quite different. I definitely learned about this guy, whom I had never heard of before, and realized how important he was in the world of journalism. Although I liked the story, I want to dedicate this blog post solely to the pure visual representation aspects that I liked.


First of all, I noticed how important space is in this comic. I know that in general, space in graphic novels is the equivalent to time in film. However, when I went through this graphic biography, at times I felt as if what I was reading and observing was an animation. For example, if you look at this page at the right, you can almost feel and see what is going on in the panels as if it were a screen. I could visualize it right there, and even identified some possible film techniques and all. Close up, zoom out, two shot cut, over the shoulder shot. Even a pan between those two panels at the bottom of the page. I just found it very pleasing to create an animation with my imagination right off from a comic book page. It kind of created a synesthesia sort of magic for me. 

The next thing I noticed was the way that when he talked about delicate subjects or an occurrence that was traumatic to him, there is a specific format in which the information is presented. His method of portraying the importance, or mark that the event left him is by taking the aesthetics of the vignette to a more minimalistic level. As you can see in the example below, the composition of this panel is simple. Black background, white words, text written in small blocks at two corners of the page. This can symbolize how dark the event was, and how shocked it left him. It transmitted chills to me when I read it, and as I stared at the visual elements, I felt as if it was cold and very dark.




Finally, I just want to point out how important juxtapositions are in graphic novels. In the two pages that I am including below, it's evident how there is a comparison between two reactions that Thompson has when Sandy leaves him. Two characteristics of his life put right next to each other: drugs and alcohol. There is a juxtaposition even with the same panels. Like the first one of both pages, it's him sitting in front of the typewriter but there's some difference between the two. The third panel is the most juxtaposed as the cocaine and the booze are put there right next to each other. 























Atavistic: (adj.) related to something
ancient or ancestral.