4 Sentence Analysis

In the excerpt, the narrator uses derogatory diction, multiple point of views, and detailed imagery to establish tone. Within first and second point of view, the narrator creates images of scientists experimenting pointlessly, while using negative words such as wrenches, cruel, nastiness, and stupid. The narrator establishes a judgmental, criticizing and disapproving tone in order to show his contempt of scientists and those who make a living without working physically. Overall, the working class narrator is expressing his views on the irrelevance and pointlessness of experimental science and intellectuals.

200 Word Sentence

You walk into school, immediately search the crowd for your group of friends and find them laughing louder than you thought possible, as soon as you come within earshot, you smile at the fact that they are yours, and no one else’s, the dull and pressuring sound of the bell rings out, compelling everyone into a frenzy, A block begins, and you observe the class frantically studying for the upcoming vocab quiz until Mr. Taylor quiets you down and writes your words on the board, the period drags on, but takes a turn for the better when you are given time to work on your modernizations, this takes up the rest of our class time, and the bell rings and you make your way across the school to Spanish; the class seems to be longer than first because you are doing nothing, just sitting there waiting; the bell rings dismissing your bored class, and now it’s time for gym class in the weight room, this gives you an opportunity to relax and work out all of your stress, the only problem is the fact that you have to wait for fourth lunch, after a good workout, the bell rings once again, and it’s time for lunch and then G, the class that you have every day- after 53 minutes the bell rings and you are free. 

Angry Letter

Dear Chris Columbus,

I am writing this letter to you, to not only scold your poor decisions, but also to express to you my utter anger and frustration. I have never seen anyone make poorer decisions regarding a movie.

You had one job, which was to turn Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series into a successful movie franchise. Everything was laid out for you, yet you still managed to screw up the entire plot line, setting, and characters. Every single necessary detail was written down in a book. Did you even read it? I highly doubt you did, considering everything that possibly could be incorrect, was.

Honestly, is it hard to have the main character die her hair the correct color? Even a wig would be a better option than letting her brown locks remain. A key detail in the books was Percy’s sea green eyes, and were they green in the movie? No, of course not. Colored contacts are too difficult apparently.

Another thing that really bothered me was the fact that you set yourself up for failure when you casted the main characters. Percy and Annabeth are both eleven in the books, yet you casted 18 year olds. How can the actors grow up throughout the movies like they are supposed to?  I often wonder what drug you were on when you made these decisions.

Camp Half-blood was a key location in the books, yet you couldn't manage to get a single detail about this camp correct. It is supposed to have blueberry fields, a big open hill with a semi-circle of cabins, and a big pine tree at the top of the hill. In your poor adaptation, the entire camp was in the middle of the woods, with the cabins in no particular arrangement and a tree that didn't stand out from all of the rest.

Also, I would like to remind you that most of the plot of your movie was not the same as the book, which reinforces my thought that you haven’t read the books. They were best sellers, so why do they need to be changed?

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover’s journey brought them to the Lotus Hotel and Casino, which was about the only thing similar about their journey. Even this, however had mistakes like everything else in the entire movie. In the book, this Lotus Hotel was not a casino, but a giant game room designed to lure kids, which seems a lot more cynical and interesting. Your horrendous adaptation made it an actual casino, nothing like the one in the book.

There was one decision that I thought you did well with. This was the casting of Grover, who was very fitting of the part.  He was exactly what I pictured for the part, which got me through the movie.

The happiest moment of my life was the moment I heard that you had not been asked to return as the director of the second film. I have nothing but praise for the second movie adaption. Thor Freudenthal managed to dig himself out of the deep hole you dug. There will not be a third movie made, and I believe that this is entirely your fault.

I hope that you are pleased to know that you tinted the Percy Jackson legacy with your work. You should know that even the author of the series, Rick Riordan, refused to watch the movie. I hope you learned your lesson not to mess with the books, because they are always better than the movies. You can expect my medical bill following this letter. I screamed so much at your tragic excuse for a movie, that my throat required intensive surgery.

Sincerely,

Kelly Nelson

Synecdoche and then Metonymy (in italics)

  It's not the rough, spiky bark, or the plume of vibrant green leaves. What makes it a symbol is not the nuts that grow from its branches, or the slight bend in its trunk. The special thing is not what it is, but who it is, its beautiful beach front home. Its sandy base, its presence in every picture of paradise. Something about a sunset is just better with them in the horizon. Palm trees individually are not special, but it's what they represent that make them powerful. 

Apostrophe

    As she sits and thinks about what shes's done, she wonders what her mother would have thought."Please don't hate me mother!" she exclaims. She waits for a response, but knows it won't come, it never will. Her thoughts shift to her father, whom she never even met. "O father, please rescue me from my sins!"
She pleads to anyone and everyone she has ever known. No one in this life could hear her now, she must rely on those who have moved on.
   She doesn't know if they are listening, but she has to believe in something, or else her pleas will go unheard. Her cries of mercy ring into the dark, starry night. She is alone in this desolate place where no one can hear a troubled girl's deepest secrets being yelled aloud. The screams blend together through the night, until finally, all is silent, every sin forgiven.

Sawyer Harris: Unreliable Narrator

Sawyer Harris 2:53 AM

They are making me write this to you. They think that you will help me get through this, but I know that you won’t. Nothing can help me now. Of course, people like you are still deciding my fate, but the lawyer lady says that I have a shot of getting off.

They think I killed her. You have to believe me, I may have known her, but I didn't kill her. Maybe you can help me, but you can’t solve a murder. They are making me write down my story of what happened so I can say it to the jury later. I’ll tell you what happened, just don’t tell anyone, ok?

She was my true love. Her and I spent all of our time together. She would be drinking coffee, and I would stare at her. It was true love. Would you kill your true love? No. She would always say adorable things to me, like, “Sorry”, “Hey”, or  “Watch out, bud”. I’m sure your husband or wife says similar things to you all the time. That’s what love is.

I knew her better than anyone else.  I knew her favorite shops, restaurants, her favorite room in her house to read. She loves to go out to dinner with this guy. I think he is her brother, because she would never cheat on me with that guy. His name is Henry. Do you know Henry? Maybe you do. He wears plaid shirts, jeans and flip flops all of the time, it’s just plain creepy. I've seen his closet, and I don’t think that he has a single shirt that isn't plaid. He seems to really love his sister, because he spends most of his time with her. They are very close.

Anyway, you don’t care about Henry, he’s not important. On the night Sarah died, he was in Mexico. Unfortunately I wasn't in Mexico, I was at Sarah’s house. She had just finished her baked beans and steak. She ate silently, with the TV blaring in the background. She didn't see me, of course. I didn't want her to. Have you ever snuck up on your loved one and just watched them, simply because you love them and everything they do?

She had finished dinner. She went over to her living room, which was right off the kitchen. The living room was my favorite room because of the elegant detailing on the fire place. It was so fine that you couldn't even see the details unless you were standing right next to it.

Sarah used to have a boyfriend before me. He was tall, handsome, strong, and funny. I actually liked him, until he broke Sarah’s heart. I figured out that he was cheating on her with some blonde waitress. I knew Sarah would be devastated, so I took care of him. It was the perfect crime, no one was ever even named a suspect.  Sarah found out about his cheating ways when the waitress came to the funeral, also claiming to be his girlfriend. It pained me to see Sarah like that.

It was at the funeral that I knew Sarah loved me. It was the way she looked at me. You may not believe me, but she looked at me like she could see through the bush right into my eyes, and my loving soul.

They say I am getting off topic, so I suppose I will get back to the night Sarah was killed. She was in the living room, I was peering in the second window on the left. The red rug caught the light and made the comfy white leather couch have a red tint. You wouldn't even have been able to tell it was white if you haven’t sat in it in the daylight. 7 weather with Pete Bouchard was on her small analog TV. I began to feel my hairs stand up on my neck, and I knew something was wrong.  

Sarah felt it too, because she looked around, glaring thoughtfully around the room. I was admiring her panicked look, when she saw me. Her eyes lit up, and her face turned as white as snow. She grabbed for the magazine holder where I knew she kept a Glock 42 handgun.

That was when it happened, that flash and the loud crack. When it died down, I peered in again, to see her lifeless body, propped up against the couch. I was the last person she ever saw. I witnessed the death of my true love.

I don’t know what killed her, but They think I did it. You know that I didn't. That is why I am in the middle of this trial. All of the evidence pointed to me, only because I had the same model Glock that she had in my hands.

My time is up, and this has been fun. They are coming to get me for the last day of the trial. Henry is not her brother, she was cheating on me. They never would have caught me. They wouldn't have, if Henry hadn't been killed too.