Analysis final draft

The sound of forgiveness

Music is 70% of the show. I can often tell what is going to happen next if I just listen to the background music. One can simply listen to a movie from another room, observe the dialogue and the music to understand what is happening. Music has the power to give us chills at its epic wonder, make our spirits soar at its larger-than-life magic, make us grip our armrests in suspense, and make us jump in fright. In this episode of Angel, the tempo and feeling of the music gives the audience a perfect feeling of the scenes and an understanding of the inner turmoil of the characters. In specific scenes, the music conveys the emotion of the characters and their actions.

Angel is currently wallowing in his guilt and shame for what he has done. The general music theme in the episode (and probably the rest of the series) is dark and disturbing as we all know the feeling of guilt is.

When Angel goes to the occult book keeper and the man tosses the bible at Angel, the music leaps and startles the viewers as they see Angel’s “vampire” face. The same idea occurs at other times in the episode.

As with the power that comes with all music, there is also a raw power in its absence. One can really get the feeling for the characters emotions when there is only monologue without accompaniment.

For instance, when Judy is starting to panic about the stolen money, all the sentiment is coming from her words of fear of confinement; her fear of retribution for her crime.

In real life, people confine themselves with their inability to forgive themselves. Judy says she cannot go to prison; it represents what she fears most; confinement and entrapment. The real tragedy of this episode is not that Angel gives up on the horridly paranoid hotel patrons; it is that Judy ends up imprisoned her whole life inside her head by her guilt, with the help of the paranoia demon.

“Is there such a thing as forgiveness?” she asks.

Perhaps, but what really speaks to me about this episode, is that one that one must forgive one’s self before one can ask for another’s forgiveness. Judy must forgive herself and her parents before she can ask for the forgiveness of the people she inadvertently wronged. Angel must come to terms with himself, his nature, and his past before he can progress.

Forgiving one’s self is one of the hardest things to do in this life. One, because the idea of holding one’s self in contempt has a twisted, saintly aura about it. And second, because that is all you can think about day in and day out. All your actions and thoughts revolve around this self mutilating guilt and when you come to understand this, you truly begin to comprehend Angel and his grieving period.

This whole ideology is very Christian rooted. The entire basis of this show is grounded in Christian philosophy of the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and paying for one’s sins in penitence, as Angel is paying for his past sins today.

It is interesting, because it is Christianity that is most closely bound to the myth of vampires. When you think of vampires, the first thing you think of is blood. Whereas modern Christian practices use the sacrament as the representation of the blood and flesh of Jesus Christ. The next think you think of is how to ward a vampire off; the Bible, the holy cross, and silver (Judas’ 30 silver pieces).

Angel just needs time to realize that it is his grieving that makes him human and redemption is possible, only by first accepting ones past mistakes and seeing the potential to be better.

“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”-Kahlil Gibran

After Angel and his friends defeat the paranoia demon, he returns to Judy’s room and finds her there, aged 60 years and still unable to forgive herself.

The music has changed from the suspenseful adventure of fighting the demon in the previous scene, to a soft and sad theme; Judy’s theme.

This end scene is truly a great metaphor for the process of forgiveness. Judy sees Angel the same as when she wronged him greatly in the past, which is so hard to do today, even over the simplest wrongs done to others. She doesn’t really think it’s possible that he is there right then and so it is easy to tell him that she is so sorry that she killed him, a simple and honest confession. There is so much that must be politically correct these days and it is always too easy to read to deeply into word choice and actions that we often find ourselves unable to give up the grudges.

As Judy fades away, finally forgiven, Angel returns down stairs to his friends, the sad music theme has an added upbeat of hope; and gives insight into Angel’s thoughts and emotions at the time. He has come to understand that it is indeed possible to find redemption when one forgives ones self.

analysis 1st draft

The sound of forgiveness

Music is 70% of the show. I can often tell what is going to happen next if I just listen to the background music. One can simply listen to a movie from another room, observe the dialogue and the music to understand what is happening. Music has the power to give us chills at its epic wonder, make our spirits soar at its larger-than-life magic, make us grip our armrests in suspense, and make us jump in fright. In this episode of Angel, the tempo and feeling of the music gives the audience a perfect feeling of the scenes and an understanding of the inner turmoil of the characters. In specific scenes, the music conveys the emotion of the characters and their actions.

Angel is currently wallowing in his guilt and shame for what he has done. The general music theme in the episode (and probably the rest of the series) is dark and disturbing as we all know the feeling of guilt is.

When angel goes to the occult book keeper and the man tosses the bible at Angel, the music leaps and startles the viewers as they see Angel’s “vampire” face. The same idea occurs at other times in the episode.

As with the power that comes with all music, there is also a raw power in its absence. One can really get the feeling for the characters emotions when there is only monologue without accompaniment.

For instance, when Judy is starting to panic about the stolen money, all the sentiment is coming from her words of fear of confinement; her fear of retribution for her crime.

In real life, people confine themselves with their inability to forgive themselves. Judy says she cannot go to prison; it represents what she fears most; confinement and entrapment. The real tragedy of this episode is not that Angel gives up on the horridly paranoid hotel patrons; it is that Judy ends up imprisoned her whole life inside her head by her guilt, with the help of the paranoia demon.

“Is there such a thing as forgiveness?” she asks.

Perhaps, but what really speaks to me about this episode, is that one that one must forgive one’s self before one can ask for another’s forgiveness. Judy must forgive herself and her parents before she can ask for the forgiveness of the people she inadvertently wronged.

Angel must come to terms with himself, his nature, and his past before he can progress.

Forgiving one’s self is one of the hardest things to do in this life. One, because the idea of holding one’s self in contempt has a twisted, saintly aura about it. And second, because that is all you can think about day in and day out. All your actions and thoughts revolve around this self mutilating guilt and when you come to understand this, you truly begin to comprehend Angel and his grieving period.

This whole ideology is very Christian rooted. The entire basis of this show is grounded in Christian philosophy of the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and paying for one’s sins in penitence, as Angel is paying for his past sins today.

It is interesting, because it is Christianity that is most closely bound to the myth of vampires. When you think of vampires, the first thing you think of is blood. Whereas modern Christian practices use the sacrament as the representation of the blood and flesh of Jesus Christ. The next think you think of is how to ward a vampire off; the Bible, the holy cross, and silver (Judas’ 30 silver pieces).

Angel needs time to realize that it is his grieving that makes him human and redemption is possible, only by first accepting one’s past mistakes and seeing the potential to be better.

Observation final draft

In view of the lab geeks

I work in the Molecular Sequencing lab at ARUP. There are four parts in this lab: the analysis room, the clean room, master mix room, and the dirty room.

As I sit inside the analysis room, where all the test results are verified out to the clients and patients, I take in my surroundings. It is very quiet in the analysis room; the only sound is the clicking of the technologists on their keyboards, hunched over in their squeaking worn down chairs. It smells of paper in this room. The hot smell of warm paper freshly spat out of the printer. It makes my nose dry and burn.

The clean room is where I spend most of my time while at work. I work to keep this room particularly clean because it is where I bring the serum and plasma specimens into the lab as well as where the DNA inside is extracted. We don’t want cross-contamination of the samples and none of us was Hepatitis C, Hepatitis B, or HIV either.

The dirty room is named so because the invisible reagent called amplicon is everywhere. We use it to ‘amplify’ the number of DNA strands so it makes sequencing it on the 3730, a multi-million dollar instrument, more accurate. However if any of it gets into the other rooms, it could cause major potential contamination.

The View café is the cafeteria at ARUP Laboratories. My subjects will be my fellow employees at 7:00 AM at breakfast time. A motley bunch of folk occupy The View at this hour. It is the end of the graveyard shift and the beginning of the day shift (I work at 5:00 AM) and so there is a great mix of different persons.

As I waited in line to get my breakfast, I watched a couple in the line behind me talking. Neither the man nor the woman was facing each other; they were both facing forward, slightly turned inward, hands in pockets and folded, with their heads turned. There was a good 3 feet between them. Vague friends, I assumed. Annoyed that they had made eye contact and much make small talk to appease social norms.

ARUP is a very diverse company. It is one of the reasons I really enjoy working here. In my lab alone, there is a man from Bosnia, one from Bolivia, and a woman from China. The View is no different. There are many ethnicities sitting together. I like to watch the interaction and the communication. Especially the errors and how people go about correcting themselves according to their audience.

There is not much touching here as it is a professional work environment. The only touching I see is between a married couple sitting together with their legs touching.

There is a certain group of the night shift that are my particular favorite to watch (we call them the night goobers). They sit and play fantasy card games while they eat their breakfast; exclaiming loudly when an opposing player has made an attack.

“Ha, newbie! My creature is a wind element and your spell is air-based. So it does no damage!”

The loud noise shocks all of us and makes us twitch. Most have only recently gotten to work and are still half asleep.

There is also the group of people who prefer to eat alone at this early hour (the group I belong to) and sit at the bar chairs facing the large windows that overlook the Salt Lake Valley. It is this view that gives The View its name. You can also see over the vast parking lots from this view. It is highly entertaining to watch the vulture-like cars circle the parking lots numerous times, scavenging for a parking spot. People will spend ten minutes looking for a potential spot other than just park slightly farther away and walk. I don’t know how God does it; watching us all doing what we do, making our lives harder than they should be.

I believe God is probably the greatest observer of them all.

Today I have sat with my back to the windows to observe my peers. It is amusing to watch and listen to the table next to me. It started out with two men talking about video games, music, and the world cup that will be held in Johannesburg, South Africa this summer until a woman, presumably from their lab, came to join them. She laughed as she sat down and asked,

“Is this where the single men sit?” The conversation quickly changed to the current happenings and gossip in their lab. Three more women have joined them and the table is now filled with high-pitched giggling and the now out-numbered men have grown quiet. They have all adjusted their chairs to give each other the appropriate amount of space.

Ironic, that I have found such a fascinating view on the inside.

Observation 2nd draft

In view of the lab geeks

I work in the Molecular Sequencing lab at ARUP. There are four parts in this lab: the analysis room, the clean room, master mix room, and the dirty room.

As I sit inside the analysis room, where all the test results are verified out to the clients and patients, I take in my surroundings. It is very quiet in the analysis room; the only sound is the clicking of the technologists on their keyboards, hunched over in their squeaking worn down chairs. It smells of paper in this room. The hot smell of warm paper freshly spat out of the printer. It makes my nose dry and burn.

The clean room is where I spend most of my time while at work. I work to keep this room particularly clean because it is where I bring the serum and plasma specimens into the lab as well as where the DNA inside is extracted. We don’t want cross-contamination of the samples and none of us was Hepatitis C, Hepatitis B, or HIV either.

The View café is the cafeteria at ARUP Laboratories. My subjects will be my fellow employees at 7:00 AM at breakfast time. A motley bunch of folk occupy The View at this hour. It is the end of the graveyard shift and the beginning of the day shift (I work at 5:00 AM) and so there is a great mix of different persons.

As I waited in line to get my breakfast, I watched a couple in the line behind me talking. Neither the man nor the woman was facing each other; they were both facing forward, slightly turned inward, hands in pockets and folded, with their heads turned. There was a good 3 feet between them. Vague friends, I assumed.

ARUP is a very diverse company. It is one of the reasons I really enjoy working here. In my lab alone, there is a man from Bosnia, one from Bolivia, and a woman from China. The View is no different. There are many ethnicities sitting together. I like to watch the interaction and the communication. Especially the errors and how people go about correcting themselves according to their audience.

There is not much touching here as it is a professional work environment. The only touching I see is between a married couple sitting together with their legs touching.

There is a certain group of the night shift that are my particular favorite to watch (we call them the night goobers). They sit and play fantasy card games while they eat their breakfast; exclaiming loudly when an opposing player has made an attack.

“Ha, newbie! My creature is a wind elemental and your spell is air-based. So it does no damage!”

The loud noise shocks all of us and makes us twitch. Most have only recently gotten to work and are still half asleep.

There is also the group of people who prefer to eat alone at this early hour (the group I belong to) and sit at the bar chairs facing the large windows that overlook the Salt Lake Valley. It is this view that gives The View its name.

You can also see over the vast parking lots from this view. It is highly entertaining to watch the vulture-like cars circle the parking lots numerous times, scavenging for a parking spot. People will spend ten minutes looking for a potential spot other than just park slightly farther away and walk. I don’t know how God does it; watching us all doing what we do, making our lives harder than they should be.

I believe God is probably the greatest observer of them all.

Today I have sat with my back to the windows to observe my peers. It is amusing to watch and listen to the table next to me. It started out with two men talking about video games, music, and the world cup that will be held in Johannesburg, South Africa this summer until a woman, presumably from their lab, came to join them. She laughed as she sat down and asked,

“Is this where the single men sit?”

The conversation quickly changed to the current happenings and gossip in their lab. Three more women have joined them and the table is now filled with high-pitched giggling and the now out-numbered men have grown quiet. They have all adjusted their chairs to give each other the appropriate amount of space.

Ironic, that I have found such a fascinating view on the inside.

Reflection final draft

'Longest flight ever'

I love airports; love them. They make me feel like anything is possible with so many links to the world. I love the diversity of the people at airports; watching them all come together to travel. Neither airports nor airplanes smell particularly good; with all different kinds of food smells, coffee, people, perfumes and cologne, but it is still an important part of keeping the memories of the whole experience.

Basically, it takes a lot to say I had a horrible experience via air travel. This memory wasn't even that bad, but I remember it well and the details stick out to me.
The flight from San Francisco to Osaka, Japan was the longest I'd been on an airplane; eleven hours.

I had asked for a window seat back in Salt Lake City and was told I had one. Alas when the attendant called my name to pick up my e-ticket, it said 'E50'.
... On a 747 airbus 'E' is dead center. As it was a full flight and I was one of the ten people aboard who didn't speak Japanese (fluently, in my defense) there was no hope of trading.
So I settled into my seat and took in my surrounding seat-mates: A pair of giggling newly-weds to my right and a boy with a staring problem on my left.

"It's all good." I told myself, "I brought three books and my IPod."

As the plane began backing out and begin taxiing, my stomach did a back flip. I couldn't see out. I could suddenly smell everyone’s breathing around me; that gross ‘used air’ smell. I'd only had Claustrophobia completely derail me once before when I got stuck in a dryer playing hide and go seek. But at that moment I could feel the terror clawing its way up my throat. The woman next to me asked if I was alright, as she noticed my whole body going rigid.

"Just fine." I squeaked. I'm so screwed! I yelled in my head. I can't do this the entire trip! I felt my lungs seem to get smaller, all the smells and sounds around me grow sharper, as if you body really thinks it's going to die and these are the last sights and smells it will be aware of. It was one of the moments where you decide if you or your fear is in control.

As the plane straightened out and began forward, I felt minutely better; my heart rate was slowing down only to speed back up again as we began to speed down the runway.
This is my favorite part about flying; The G-Force pressing you back into your seat; nothing as silly as a crappy seat was going to ruin this for me. I usually get a goofy grin on my face about now.

The plane reached its cruising altitude and my stomach had gotten used to the feel of the motion, even if I couldn't 'see' it. I began to read my first book when I took notice of the occupants in the row in front of me: four small children between the ages of four and six who all felt their opinion was most important; enter the magical IPod.

I began to read my first book trying to ignore the mouth-breathing boy next to me reading over my shoulder when they brought drinks around. The steward was kind and asked me what I'd like.

"Root Beer, please if you have it."

He heard the beer part. So seventeen year old I sat with an opened can of beer unsure of what to do. It smelled of yeasty bread and I crinkled my nose.The newly-wed man on my right laughed and said he'd trade me his Coke.

After several hours of more awkward experiences of climbing over others to go the bathroom, adjusting my seating position and elbowing someone, laughing out loud at my book, and overall feeling like an over sized American I started to get a little wiggy. It seemed as though I had always been on this plane. Had I ever been in Utah? It felt like years ago. The strangers around me felt familiar although I knew none of them or even talked to them; as if we had been on this journey together for months. I can only imagine what it felt like four hundred years ago when immigrants came to North America and they were on a ship for several months together. It seemed like the small airplane icon on the screen map in front of me never moved any closer to the International Date line much less Japan. I realized when we actually DID cross the International Date Line, that my Fourth of July had only been seven hours long.

It was sleep deprivation that made me start to question the passage of time. But I had never been able to sleep on airplanes.The seats always feel too small and too conformed with hard arm rests and it’s impossible to curl up without looking like a contortionist. Everyone’s bodies begin to sweat, feet come out of shoes, others around me snore and cough, and the entire plane itself just seems to be permeated with a thick human smell. No wonder so many people died of disease on ship passages months long.

At last, I felt the Plane begin to descend into the Osaka Kansai Airport.

I'm calling ahead for a window seat next time. I told myself.

We all piled off the plane, only too excited to be free of the confining space that we had occupied for the last 11 hours and into the shuttle-train thing that took us to the main terminal pick up our baggage. I began to worry how I was possibly going to find my brother and sister-in-law in the throng of a huge foreign airport.

Both my huge, American sized bags came out within the first ten out of the mysterious plastic flaps. In any other case this would have been wonderful, except now I had no one to follow to the next stop to leave the airport. Trying not to feel too foolish, I dragged my bags onto a cart and went to the restroom to think of what to do next. I decided to go ask someone who looked like they had authority where I could find a phone.

It was my first experience asking a Japanese person, in Japanese, in Japan, a question. I approached a man and said,

“Sumimasen, denwa doko desu ka (Excuse me, where is a phone?)”

I'm sure it sounded garbled to him.

The man raised an eyebrow, pointed to the translucent glass doors and walked away. So only feeling slightly stupid, I handed my passport to the guard at the door and walked through the doors.

Garth and Yumie were both there waiting for me. I couldn’t have been more relieved to see them and that there was no need for a phone finding quest.

It was the end of one adventure and the beginning of the really big one (we only got waylaid once when we couldn’t find where they parked the car).

Reflection 2nd draft

'Longest flight ever'

I love airports; love them. They make me feel like anything is possible with so many links to the world. I love the diversity of the people at airports; watching them all come together to travel. Neither airports nor airplanes smell particularly good; with all different kinds of food smells, coffee, people, perfumes and cologne, but it is still an important part of keeping the memories of the whole experience.

Basically, it takes a lot to say I had a horrible experience via air travel. This memory wasn't even that bad, but I remember it well and the details stick out to me.
The flight from San Francisco to Osaka, Japan was the longest I'd been on an airplane; eleven hours.

I had asked for a window seat back in Salt Lake City and was told I had one. Alas when the attendant called my name to pick up my e-ticket, it said 'E50'.
... On a 747 airbus 'E' is dead center. As it was a full flight and I was one of the ten people aboard who didn't speak Japanese (fluently, in my defense) there was no hope of trading.
So I settled into my seat and took in my surrounding seat-mates: A pair of newly-weds to my right and a boy with a staring problem on my left.

"It's all good." I told myself, "I brought three books and my IPod."

As the plane began backing out the begin taxiing my stomach did a back flip. I couldn't see out. I could suddenly smell everyone’s breathing around me; that gross ‘used air’ smell. I'd only had Claustrophobia completely derail me once before when I got stuck in a dryer playing hide and go seek. But at that moment I could feel it clawing its way up my throat. The woman next to me asked if I was alright, as she noticed my whole body going rigid.

"Just fine." I squeaked. I'm so screwed! I yelled in my head. I can't do this the entire trip!
As the plane straightened out and began forward, I felt minutely better; my heart rate was slowing down only to speed back up again as we began to speed down the runway.
This is my favorite part about flying; The G-Force pressing you back into your seat. Nothing as silly as a crappy seat was going to ruin this for me. I usually get a goofy grin on my face about now.

The plane reached its cruising altitude and my stomach had gotten used to the feel of the motion, even if I couldn't 'see' it. I began to read my first book when I took notice of the occupants in the row in front of me: four small children between the ages of four and six. Enter the magical IPod.
I began to read my first book trying to ignore the boy next to me reading over my shoulder when they brought drinks around. The steward was kind and asked me what I'd like.

"Root Beer, please if you have it."

He heard the beer part. So seventeen year old I sat with an opened can of beer unsure of what to do. The man on my right laughed and said he'd trade me his Coke.

After several hours of more awkward experiences of climbing over others to go the bathroom, adjusting my seating position and elbowing someone, laughing out loud at my book, and overall feeling like an over sized American I started to get a little wiggy. It seemed as though I had always been on this plane. Had I ever been in Utah? It felt like years ago. The strangers around me felt familiar although I knew none of them or even talked to them; as if we had been on this journey together for months. I can only imagine what it felt like four hundred years ago when immigrants came to North America and they were on a ship for several months together. It seemed like the small airplane icon on the screen map in front of me never moved any closer to the International Date line much less Japan. I realized when we actually DID cross the International Date Line, that my Fourth of July had only been seven hours long.

I think it was sleep deprivation that made me start to question the passage of time. But I had never been about to sleep on airplanes; the seats always feel too small and too conformed with hard arm rests and it’s impossible to curl up without looking like a contortionist. Everyone’s bodies begin to sweat, feet come out of shoes, others around me snore and cough, and the entire plane itself just seems to be permeated with a thick human smell. No wonder so many people died of disease on ship passages months long.

At last, I felt the Plane begin to descend into the Osaka Kansai Airport.
I'm calling ahead for a window seat next time. I told myself.

Self Evaluation

1) What aspect of your writing did you like the most and why?

I like that my character shows through my writing. I can see myself talking aloud to another person when I read my papers.

2) What do you consider to be your weakness in writing and why?

Just the will to get started is the hardest part. I've never liked writing in particular, that goes back to elementary school; having horrid penmanship and being embarrassed to show it. Punctuality as well. I have pretty good skills in writing because I read so much. But I often will start projects later; I do well under pressure. :)

3) What are your goals in your next assignment?

I want to better partition my time and work load; set aside time to do in-depth work on my papers.

4) What grade to you deserve and why?

I believe I've earned a B on this assignment. I didn't do my absolute best on these three papers, but they are relatively well done considering my position of working full time, going to school full time, and the family problems that have occupied my mind.