Fight Club Dialectical Journal

People already know that rats are very disgusting creatures that live in sewers and eat trash. But these four articles introduced new insights to the problems that rats cause. Some of them include causing destructive infestations, horrible diseases that can harm or kill people and pets, and the danger of using pesticides to humans. The first reason and paragraph discusses what rat infestations are and why they occur, the second paragraph talks about the dangers to human society, and the third paragraph discusses the ways people are trying to rid their lives of rats.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.” “In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.” “All right then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy,” This significant quote from Brave New World had moved innumerable readers’ heart, so do I. Exaggeration? No. It’s the satire to the false meaning of the universal happiness, and it’s this quote which made me had rethink what do I really want and the way of living I want to choose. Because the deep influence and rumination brought by the book, I would like to say

1. A large amount of construction and building work was going on in the city. Unfortunately for the people, construction meant delays, but all for a good end result. “Construction delays elsewhere on the grounds were especially frustrating” (pg 167) Chicago is booming with new buildings and constructions sights everywhere. This quote shows the work of construction that is all over the city.

The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 1:07 AM before her rancid hands gripped my mouth shut. She dug her nails into my chest, muffling my plait of agony with her other hand.

Crane’s approach to writing about the war was fresh because, of the fact that we were basically inside the heads of one of the soldiers(henry). We could feel how he felt and we knew his fears. Besides that Crane was blunt about how disorganized the war was.

1.The narrator wants to go to the bazaar in order to impress a girl. The girl can not go to the bazaar so the narrator tells her he can go to the bazaar and he will get her something.

    In this chapter Steven woke up extra early for some reason in this interminable  world and slow walked to the basement to get some drum practice. When Jeffrey, his little brother, snuck up behind him. Jeffery asked for some moatmeal- oatmeal- also saying his parts hurt. Apparently he had been saying that for a while now. Steven and Jeffrey went to get the oatmeal and Jeffery sat on a stool. When Steven turned around Jeffery fell of the stool and hurt his nose. Jeffrey cried a lot. Their parents came down and interrogated them. Jeffery was sent to the emergency room, while Seven and his dad went to school and work.

I exhale a long, frustrated sigh as I look around the old, battered up, brown and decaying café. It was amidst the start of the French Revolution, and circumstances were heating up. Everyone were in a small groups chattering away at nothing in particular as I stand at the slightly raised platform, waiting for the last few representatives to come. I, Pascal Beaumont, was the organizer of the raid that will be held at the Bastille, in Paris, on July 14, 1789. Tomorrow was July 14, 1789, the big day. Such an evil thing to do, some might think, but not in my situation. I was thirsty for revenge, for the blood that belonged to the royalty, for death. That rascal, King Louis XVI would pay for the lives he took from the peasants. They would never

I didn't think anyone would like that last chapter, but I guess I was proved wrong. I'll continue to write more strange plots, every so often. A big 'Thank You' to all of my followers, favoriters, and reviewers;) This chapter was very fun and entertaining to write. Enjoy!

We are off on the oregon trail, the Swansons kept their promise and asked the clines if we could join, after some negotiation and the conformation of me being a blacksmith, they said we could tag along, once we had left I thought all of our problems were over but I was wrong after a while we had reached a hill, and our oxen couldn't pull all of our supplies, we had to get rid of the piano my wife, that was enough for the oxen to slowly pull the wagon up and over the hill. We have reached the kansas river it had taken us two days to reach from independence, we had arrived just as the raft had left to take the last of a wagon train to the other side, once he returned he had told us it would be one dollar to cross after awhile we had

Chapter 1 A young woman appears out of nowhere and quickly catches up to another who's dashing along a moonlit lane. "Are we late?" She asks as she falls into step besides the older woman. "No not yet, but we need to hurry, we don't have much time." "Follow me," the older woman replies, and her dark cloak billows about casting shadows on the high stone walls that border the lane. They walked side by side in silence for a long ways and then through a set of huge iron gates swung opened before them and onto a narrow driveway. A manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights glinting in the windows. Gravel crackled beneath their feet as speeding toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though

In high school, I struggled with both math and physics. Between the two, physics was more challenging for me than math. When my father realized I was failing both subjects (with flying colors) he immediately hired a tutor for me. Prior to getting help, I spent a lot of time in circles trying to figure out one question after another. For some reason I could not get the hang of physics. I started to feel embarrassed about not know how to solve my math and physics problems when I realized that one of my closest girlfriend was doing well in both subjects. After taking a quiz, I would hide my grade from my classmates because I was so embarrassed about it. When my father received my first quarter report card he was very disappointed

I do not consider myself to be anybody’s best friend. While I do have many friends that I consider myself to be close with (and I’d like to believe they opposite is true), the school year has just started and many friendships that existed last year may or may not fade away as time passes by. This is because friendships are mainly built on conversations shared daily, whether they be in the classroom or outside on social media. Even if one person is reluctant to hold a conversation, then the bonds of friendship will slowly and steadily break apart due to the lack of sustained interaction on a daily basis. Communication is paramount to ensuring that a relationship is maintained. In my case, I do not believe I interact with anyone on a daily basis enough to be considered “best friends.” Sure, I would consider many people I’m acquainted with good friends, but that is the extent of our friendship. On the other hand, I have several good friends because we have relatively good chemistry. Successful interaction with one another has led to a mutual desire to sustain our friendships.

Seven of the wagons are identically painted in a brilliant red lacquer and with the edges and spoke wheels painted glossy black.

The homesteads were sparse in these parts, and Devon’s home was about as remote as it could be. His parents had always assured him that living in the countryside was the good life, and that they preferred the quietness to the bright lights and rackets of town centers and cities. But lately Devon had become obsessed with the idea of leaving the village for the excitement of the capital. When not on excavations, his father often spent time working in a research facility in Tridentport. And when he was home, he told stories, thus planting seeds of