Automated Creativity

For those who underestimate themselves, I found an internet-based software that revises text. This is not your every-day spell-check-word-processor. This gizmo has more tricks up its sleeve to offer, including interpretation of word use, sentence variety, cliché finder, and more. I would appreciate any comments on this example of artificial "intelligence".

LINK

The Burnt Joke

When an author writes about three experienced women (be that sexual, chronological AKA senile, or intellectual capacities or other forms of experience), an allusion to the three fates is often present.

The three whores who live above Pecola's home, China, Poland, and Miss Marie represent those three fates. They each have their own personality. Their shared humor inspired by years of experience together gives them an eeriness comparable only with that of one who knows enough pain to last an eternity. That is, enough pain to become a joke. Their humorous experiences entertain them in a way that makes them bearable. "They abused their visitors with a scorn grown mechanical from use. Black men, white men, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Jews, Poles, whatever—all were inadequate and weak, all came under jaundiced eyes and were the recipients of their disinterested wrath" (56). We could even say that "these women hated men, all men, without shame, apology, or discrimination" (56), and that each recount of how they cheated them describes how they slit their string of life. Their eternal toil that forces them to live together becomes unbearable and comic, as we see in this depiction from the Disney cartoon, Hercules.

Regarding the idea I mentioned in my previous blog, we see that Pecola's ignorance remains untainted by the whores' witty comments, or their very obvious profession. Pecola doesn't seem to grasp the implications of such employment. She didn't even know what "mininstratin'" (27) was. On one hand, she asks profound questions, like "how do you get somebody to love you" (32)? This is the type of enviable objective thought some children use to perceive reality. The contrasting figures of the three experienced fates, with that of the innocent Pecola, creates polarized characters. The interaction between the two is definitely interesting to read.

Infants Of Horror And Comedy

After the first 30 or-so pages of The Bluest Eye, I noticed something I thought only occurred in horror films, and humorous cartoons. The creators depict intellectual and mature children alongside adults with ignorant and brusque personalities. These older characters often target a population group. Certain scenes epitomize this contrast. In particular, one of Mr. and Mrs. Breedlove's conflicts compare to a fight between toddlers. When Mrs. Breedlove expected her recently intoxicated husband to fetch coal, and Mrs. Breedlove sneezed after he reneged, she attacked like a fierce mother gorilla. "She ran into the bedroom with a dishpan full of cold water and threw it in Cholly's face. He sat up, choking and spitting. Naked and ashen, he leaped from the ned, and with a flying tackle, grabbed his wife around the waist, and they hit the floor" (44). The ensuing battle would only take place among children who don't know their own strength. Luckily, and "tacitly, they had agreed not to kill each other" (43). The adults speak with African American vernacular, while Pecola and Claudia represent mature, misunderstood girls who know how to speak with correct english grammar. Claudia's mother, during her rant regarding one vanished milk incident, screams, "Don't nobody never want nothing till they see me at the sink. Then everybody got to drink water...." (28). What is that, a triple negative?

Here we see a clip of Peter Griffin, from Family Guy, mocking the immature and ignorant American stereotype American, as usual...

Here is one clip of Homer Simpson displaying his clumsiness, only comparable to that of a toddler learning to use his extremities.

Our narrator, Claudia, describes the inside of the Breedlove's home with enough ease and precision to evoke colorful imagery, despite the bleak environment being illustrated. She says that the furnishings were "anything but describable, having been conceived, manufactured, shipped, and sold in various states of thoughtlessness, greed, and indifference" (35). Either Tony Morrison helps Claudia express a setting to help the reader, or she truthfully has mastery over the art of description. This is another possibility:

The children may speak African American vernacular when talking to other characters, and display enviable clarity when reflecting on their surroundings and occurrences.

Now, we shall see how smart children either convey horror, or they hint at uncomplicated intelligence.

How they surprisingly convey horror more effectively than adult figures, I do not know. Either way, I will content myself, and my readers by simply mentioning Chucky, the ventriloquist child puppet of happiness, and showing this harmless image.

Creepy. Now, on to the part where I show the mature, clever, innocent youngling.

OK. OK. So maybe I did have to scavenge a little for a representation of a smart and goodhearted six-year old. So what if we only see this nicely-combed doppelganger in a very rare, one of a kind strip where a character's dual personality materializes. Stewie Griffin seemed like the appropriate example. Despite his extreme lack of innocence, he is still a baby with a weird accent and sense of morality. He is probably the smartest member of his family, tied, ironically, with the dog.

Bloody Punch-Lines

After the first time I finished last page of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, another work was presented to me. The world's endemic and uncontaminated species are numbered. In Age of Discovery, Joseph Banks' journey depicts the customs of a blissfully ignorant Tahitian culture. As opposed to the natives we see in Conrad'snovel, those in Banks' recount expose themselves to the europeans with ease and trust. This is the very trust that, when abruptly shattered, eliminates any hope of good-will. The impossibility of genuine, selfless curiosity is now a joke. This time, however, the punch-line exterminates an ethnicity. Banks and his kind befriend the Tahitians, and partake in local commerce which ultimately gives the carpenter a monopoly he never dreamed of having.

(20)

Besides forming beneficial relations with the natives, Mr. Cook, the captain appears to think highly of respect and morality. Despite succumbing to taboo relationships in an island where they can remain a secret, he maintains a degree of european civilized values. He strongly upholds these values, and we see that the

(16).

When I think of the natives in Conrad's tale, I can't help but picture mystic beings, struggling for their survival against oppressing forces. Maybe Conrad depicts the future of the Tahitian people. We do see that at the time Conrad published his novel, the empires still believed in their benevolent intentions, as did the natives.

When Silence Screams

When I saw this 1994 film of Heart of Darkness, I was surprised by the scene of Mr Kurtz's death. I pictured it swifter and louder. Also, I was somewhat disappointed by Mr Kurtz's renowned voice. Maybe I imagined an impossible scene of a dying mortal.

I believe modern references to the scene transfigured my perception. Conrad does describe Mr Kurtz's final statement as "a cry that was no more than a breath" (130), which is exactly what we see in the film. I imagined a scene with a volume closer to that used in this video. Maybe this is the type of influences I should flee. This made me question myself: What other faulty influences have I allowed to corrupt my perception of literature's scenes?

Unnecessary Cravings, Satiated Forever

Buddhism preaches many ideals. It claims that cravings beget suffering. Since Marlow ends his speech "indistinct and silent, in the pose of a meditating Buddha" (146), we must not overlook the theme. In his journey of illumination, Marlow transforms himself. At first, he personifies the western thought pattern of expectation-disappointment-depression-repeat, as we see when he considers never meeting Mr Kurtz alive. "For the moment that was the dominant thought. There was a sense of extreme disappointment, as though I had found out I had been striving after something altogether without a substance. I couldn't have been more disgusted if I had travelled all this way for the sole purpose of talking with Mr Kurtz [. . .] We are too late; he has vanished—the gift has vanished, by means of some spear, arrow, or club. I will never hear that chap speak after all,—and my sorrow had a startling extravagance of emotion, even such as I had noticed in the howling sorrow of these savages in the bush. I couldn't have felt more lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life. . . ." (86-87).

Here we see a man wounded by the possibility of dissapointment. He has not yet experienced it, and feels grief already. The man who lies to Mr Kurtz's woman after his journey is not this same man. By telling her that "the last word he pronounced was—your name" (145), he embraces Buddhism and regrets its absence. She was not ready to hear the truth. Apparently, Marlow depicts an illuminated man who overcomes the tempting fruits of action.

Light-Dark-Light-Dark. Oh! The Horror! The Strobe-Induced Seizure!

One dichotomy Conrad depicts throughout his novel, is that of darkness and light. By the end, he convinced me of the death of all primary colors, and nearly managed to induce an imaginary seizure in my imaginary blackboard of imagination.

Typically, darkness represents bad, and light represents good. Conrad would never attempt to convey such a bland message,

especially when depicting a predominant theme in his work. Thus, he applies it with flexibility.

When Marlow describes Mr Kutz's darkness as "an impenetrable darkness" (129), we relate it to Mr Kurt'z hopelessness as he dies. At the moment of his passing, when Marlow "was considered brutally callous" (131) for proceeding with his meal, "there was a lamp in there—light, don't you know—and outside it was so beastly, beastly dark" (131). Here, Conrad depicts light as a symbol of progress, of intellect, and lack of secrecy the beastly darkness conveys. If he were to remain in Africa, he would meet nothing but an uninviting environment. His path is clear.

When Marlow "blew the candle out and left the room" (130) after hearing Mr Kurtz's final words, he marks the silence of an illuminated mind as nature extinguishes its fragile vessel. Conrad illustrates life and death, further employing the dichotomy, when he describes death as an "unexciting contest" that "takes place in an impalpable grayness" (131). Death always triumphs against a struggling opponent. The grayness represents a state of vagueness where the person is neither illuminated by life, nor overshadowed by death.

The lighted home of Mr Kurtz's grieving woman contrasts with her darkened appearance, and, by extension, soul. Marlow "had to wait in a lofty drawing-room with three long windows from floor to ceiling that were like three luminous and bedraped columns. The bent gilt legs and backs of the furniture shone in indistinct curves. The tall marble fireplace had a cold and monumental whiteness. A grand piano stood massively in a corner, with dark gleams on the flat surfaces like a sombre and polished sarcophagus" (139). "She came forward, all in black" (139). Here, we see happiness and unhappiness contrasted. A simple joyous surrounding is not enough to enlighten a dark heart. "But with every word spoken the room was growing darker, and only her forehead, smooth and white, remained illumined by the unextinguishable light of belief and love" (141). Belief and love kindle the remnants of light within her. Why does Conrad place this illumination on her forehead? Why not her eyes? Why not her mouth? Why not her hands?

Conrad mentions light and darkness each time with a different connotation. With each description, the dichotomy represents something new. We must also note that in each page where the word 'darkness' is written, so is the word 'light', and vice versa. They go hand in hand in the illustration of some of Conrad's contrasting themes such as hope and hopelessness, knowledge and secrecy, nature and its destruction, construction and destruction, life and death.