Saturday, February 29, 2020

Humor, Satire, Irony, and Parody Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

Humor, Satire, Irony, and Parody - Essay Example Z.† by M. Carl Holman, â€Å"A Visit from St. Sigmund† by K.J. Kennedy, and â€Å"AD† Kenneth Fearing. The sources will be identified first, then genre and themes will be discussed with that source. â€Å"Will and Grace† is first and foremost a drama. Since it involves actors it is a drama. Drama means to do in Greek, so some action must be taking place in a drama. In this particular episode, Will hurts his leg and becomes addicted to pills. While serious, some humor is involved in this particular episode. An example is when Will finds a tic tac instead of a pain killer. Irony was also be used in this episode. One example is when Grace exclaims â€Å"Crack whores are sneaky!† She does not mean Will is a crack whore, but is acting like one. Drama is mixed with irony and humor in this â€Å"Will and Grace† episode. This episode explains in a light way how a person can become addicted without even realizing it. â€Å"A Visit from St. Sigmund† by K.J. Kennedy is a parody and full of satire. This is formed in a poetry form. Taking the form of â€Å"A Night Before Christmas† this author chooses to attack Sigmund Freud and his psychotherapy. Parodies attack things the authors do not approve. Obviously in this poem, Kennedy does not approve of Sigmund Freud and his theories. Throughout the poem, psychology terms are used loosely. â€Å"Not an Ego was stirring, not even an Id,† or He drove a wheeled couch pulled by five fat psychoses† use Freud’s terms like Id, Ego, and psychoses with almost scorn. The line â€Å"And Mamma with her bar off and I on her lap† is a direct slap at Freud’s Oedipus complex. Kennedy mocks Freud in a blatant attempt to discredit him with parody. The satire is used in all of the above because the human vices Freud is trying to cure seems to be dismissed by Kennedy. â€Å"AD† by Kenneth Fearing is a poem that uses irony. This is a poem that was written during the

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

First Contact, or How I had Acquired a Grown-up Friend Essay

First Contact, or How I had Acquired a Grown-up Friend - Essay Example I loved television because it introduced new ideas, new imagery, new places, new people. My parents firmly believed that home should be both the center and periphery of a child’s life and that television is an unhealthy distraction. I was kept busy in the house, or hanging out laundry in the backyard, and television was regulated at one or two hours each month. Consequently, my world stayed very small, for many years. When I came to realize that resistance was futile, I cooperated with my assimilation to this Borg-type collective, in the interest of survival. My longing for unrestricted access to a window was hidden inside me, waiting to be awakened. The day of my awakening was a summer scorcher, I dressed in the shortest shorts and the thinnest T-shirt my mother would allow, and wiggled around on a sticky kitchen chair, staring at my pancakes and syrup, looking for images and the suggestion of something more than here. Eventually, they tired of me and I was dismissed to do ch ores, I watered the potted plants, checked on the slimy avocado pit I was sprouting in the windowsill, straightened up the surfaces of my bedroom, dusted our living room bookshelf and the barely-ever-used television screen, and washed the breakfast dishes. I relieved the washing machine of its load of floral sheets and bath towels, cycled the night before. I had done my homework to its rhythm. They had a faint overnight musty smell. I wrinkled my sunburned nose and placed the laundry in the red plastic tub, which still had the sticky adhesive residue that originally held its price in place. Using dishwater-shriveled, white, poufy-fingered hands, and a skinny pre-pubescent hip to wedge the tub against, I carried the sheets and towels to the backyard, to hang on the clothesline. The birds had left white pasty souvenirs of their digestive adventures again. After washing away the abstract deposits, I looked around the backyard with some satisfaction. Hanging laundry was, by far, my favo rite chore. It provided a private world, in which I could day-dream to my heart’s content. Day-dreaming is like television, except you get to write your own story and choose your own characters and even be the star actress if you want. The best thing going for it is that nobody could see it except me, so there was no one reacting to my watching it, or lecturing me on how it’s unhealthy and ruining my mind. Sometimes I would indulge myself in repetitive plots. I had crash-landed on a remote island, with no parents at all. There was a cave with a stream running through it and lots of berries and zucchini and tomatoes and a chocolate tree outside. A lifetime supply of pasta and meat sauce had crash-landed there with me, along with cases of sliced processed cheese, so I was happy. There were many rooms in the cave and each held new wonders to explore, things like chests of jewelry and exotic costumes, boxes of books, endless art supplies, a music box.