Existential quantification

1.) Moyers compares the study of history to “the view in the rearview mirror.” In what ways is this quote an apt comparison? I don’t know how to drive, but I’ve heard that your rearview mirror is extremely important, as is history. It’s like looking behind you, or that phrase, “How do you know where you’re going, if you don’t know where you’ve been?” History can be boring, but generally when it’s boring, it’s probably being told wrong. People and stories are interesting and they make up who we

A Magical Forest The sun is high above me and I walk into the forest in front of me, which I hear calling me. I hear birds chirping and twittering, singing a song. This makes me wonder about birds and where their songs come from. How ancient the song I am hearing really is. As I take a step into the forest, I notice at first the trees, stretching high above the ground, as if in competition with one another, to see who will reach the sky first. Their roots are

My Perfect Dream Vacation: There's No Place Like Home Almost everyone has their own idea of a dream vacation. It's the perfect place to get away from the reality of every day life and the stress that goes along with it, and the choices and ideas of the “perfect vacation” are as varied as the people who dream about them. Some fantasize about lazing on a warm, sunny beach with soft ocean breezes and a cold exotic drink at their side. Some dream of forests and wildlife, cool running

I was standing on a hill looking at the horrible town of West Point in Liberia, and I was starting to rethink my career as a journalist. . “This is the worst place I’ve ever seen,” I said. “We’re not there yet,” Abeeku said with a thick African accent and a grin. He looked more elegant than most people I saw in Liberia, but he still looked poverty-stricken. He was wearing a tattered tank top, and his blue jeans were smeared with dirt. “I’m not sure I want to go down this hill, and enter that

First was something like an ocean of blood, deep dark red. It covered everything and the sky was also red, but a dark red. Then were the clouds that covered the sky, not red, dark grey, a dark, dark grey. And out of the clouds shoots electricity. The electricity was like lightning. Bolts shot quickly, mercilessly. Down to the water, making title waves were ever it struck. In the middle of everything was someone. Someone laughing. Stranded out on an island in the ocean of blood. Laughing with a device

When I was little, around six years old, some of my acquaintances fantasised of being princesses while others dreamed of being police officers or knights. My notion was not as preposterous as theirs, but almost as out of reach; I wanted to study in the United States of America, better said I wanted to move there. Growing up in a relatively small town, where everyone seemed to share the same principles once they got past their childhood virtuous, I felt stuck. Once again, I was a dreamer, forever

Don´t be afraid she had said, You'll be fine. My friend's words repeated in my head as if someone poured glue on my ears and stuck the words on. A new school. A new reputation. Nothing to be afraid of. Right? Wrong. ¨Alexis!¨ my dad interrupts my dreary thoughts. My bed squeaks as I sit up and sigh. ¨What dad?!¨ The depressing thought leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. ¨Time for school!¨ he calls back. Right. It´s Monday. Also known as the worst day of my life, or as my parents like to call

In T.C. Boyle’s story, The Tortilla Curtain, there’s a lot of representation of different issues that affect each character individually. The main issue that the characters have to deal with is immigration. There are characters that have to deal with being illegal and others that don’t like what they have done to their community. Through the issue of immigration, there’s a lot more issue that arise because of it. One of them is the social border that there is. We see how each character is truly influenced

I don’t know about you, but I don’t often star at myself in the mirror, studying my own face. Does anybody? The longest amount of time I spend looking at myself is when I’m shaving, and even then, I’m just concentrating on not being a klutz and cutting myself open. I’m not being down on myself or looking for attention or any such nonsense like that. I mean, I don’t even have a Facebook. It’s just that, gazing upon my reflection is just not something I do. I get out of the shower, I shave, brush my

Prologue I looked out onto what was left of the landscape before me one last time. I used to call this place home but it no longer resembles the one I used to know. “It’s funny how things can go from bad to worse in such a short amount of time” I thought to myself. What once used to be a beautiful blue sky full of puffy clouds shaped like anything that could be imagined was now grey and lifeless. The clouds are no longer white and puffy but dark and menacing. They are racing towards us with the