<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:08:58.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ENG 001: Language &amp; Writing</title><subtitle type='html'>Ben Kottmeyer, Nebraska Wesleyan University</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-8172213058448568992</id><published>2007-12-09T21:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T17:29:20.581-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Soundtrack of My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ymOGM3d1cMU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ymOGM3d1cMU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=6916346"&gt;Billy’s Got his Beer Goggles On&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.nealmccoy.com/"&gt;Neal McCoy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;Billy’s is sitting there at the bar drinking away his pain and he is seeing all kinds of &lt;a href="http://www.songs-lyrics.net/so-Neal-McCoy-lyrics-That%27s-Life-lyrics-Billy%27s-Got-His-Beer-Goggles-On-lyrics-AB03697300013006B4.html"&gt;different things&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;ugly women are starting to look amazing, he is imagining he’s a great dancer and then all the sudden he thinks Marty Stouffer is sitting next to him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At first I did not know what his name was all I could remember was watching his television show, Wild America hosted by himself &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marty_Stouffer"&gt;Marty Stouffer&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I think nearly every Saturday morning my brother, sister, dad and I would sit and watch this show with my mom soon coming in to join us after doing some usual Saturday morning cleaning that she always thought was necessary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We would all then sit there with our breakfasts and be mesmerized by the elusiveness of a rabbit escaping fierce predator or the intelligence of a monkey as he made himself a tool to crack open a certain fruit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The narrator had such a plain boring monotone voice that in any other situation it would put you to sleep, but because it was combined with some of the fiercest animals ever created, it was very pleasant to listen to.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I remember my favorite episode to watch was the one with the rams.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They would show these massive animals barreling at each other and then smashing their heads together with unbelievable forces.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I always found this amazingly cool and stupid.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was such a thrill for me to see these animals’ pound on each other like this, but never fully understood why one wouldn’t just dodge the other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0afsBW6Tq_E&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0afsBW6Tq_E&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=3525312&amp;amp;style=movie"&gt;Basketball&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.bowwowunleashed.com/"&gt;Lil Bow Wow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Basketball-lyrics-Lil%27-Bow-Wow/FD30EC9F0FB80A6148256BE300115A8A"&gt;Lil Bow Wow&lt;/a&gt; and me had so much in common at this age.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He enjoyed hanging out with his friends, he lived at home with his parents, he loved sports and his favorite of which being basketball.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only difference really was that he was make rap albums, I was making pictures for my moms’ refrigerator, his house was worth billions, mine was tucked back behind a corn field, ok so maybe we were not alike at all, but we both do love basketball.&lt;/span&gt;  At the beginning of the video he is shown playing a specific childhood game that I remember called &lt;a href="http://www.yardgames.org/ball-games/horse.aspx"&gt;HORSE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Horse is when one player shoots the ball and if he makes the shot the following player must shoot and make it as well or else earn a letter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you gain enough letters to spell out the word horse you are eliminated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The last player to be left in the game is crowned the winner.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I remember playing this game for hours with anyone that would play.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;HORSE became so much more than just shooting and seeing if the other guy could make the same shot.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It became very strategic; you wanted to find the perfect balance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The shot had to be hard enough that you knew the following person couldn’t make it, but not to hard that you couldn’t make it either.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would spend hours coming up with such “trick shots” that I knew I had practiced, but nobody else would have ever thought of shooting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The simple game of HORSE had so much more strategy and depth to it than an outsider may have noticed at a simple glance.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iWg3IMN_rhU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iWg3IMN_rhU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“&lt;a href="http://www.timbalandmusic.com/"&gt;The Way I Are&lt;/a&gt;” by &lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=7388878"&gt;Timbaland&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;In this video, between &lt;a href="http://www.completealbumlyrics.com/lyric/131343/Timbaland+-+Way+I+Are.html"&gt;verses&lt;/a&gt; of the song, they show clips of people juggling a soccer ball it seems a little out of place I do not really understand why it is in there, but there are many times that I do not understand what is going on in music videos.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As soon as I saw these guys playing soccer I thought back to how my summers were spent many years ago.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Back when I was in middle school I played on a competitive soccer team called The KICKS.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were a team of kids just from my town that would travel to soccer tournaments all over Nebraska.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I remember one game we were playing one of our growing rivals the Millard Eagles in the championship game of the premier tournament of the summer, The Lincoln Cup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The game was a battle the whole way through we traded goals back and fourth fitting for every possession and regulation was not enough time for us to decide a champion.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There must be overtime.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.soccerhelp.com/Soccer_Rules_Rules_Of_Soccer.shtml"&gt;The way overtime&lt;/a&gt; works at that age is you have two overtime periods that are played golden goal; meaning first team to score wins.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even with the changed rules and increases intensity we still could not crown a victor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had to go to a shoot out.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A shootout is when a player puts the ball right in front of the goal and it’s just him, the goalie, and one shot per player to try and win the game.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I stepped up to shoot and crushed it a perfect shot into the lower right corner of the goal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so relieved.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There rest of our team shot and the rest of theirs did as well and after their last shooter had missed we exploded with joy screaming as loud as possible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a suspenseful moment that exploded like a cork.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tWHkluThDXQ&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tWHkluThDXQ&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=6389832"&gt;Under the Bridge&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.redhotchilipeppers.com/"&gt;Red Hot Chili peppers&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;In this video there is a scene where one of the &lt;a href="http://www.songs-lyrics.net/so-Red-Hot-Chili-Peppers-lyrics-Greatest-Hits-lyrics-Under-The-Bridge-lyrics-DB0070022016000189.html"&gt;group members&lt;/a&gt; is seen playing an accordion, I thought this was very interesting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is not very often that you see a million dollar band playing an instrument such as this, or see anyone playing an accordion for that matter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But one person that used to play the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Accordion"&gt;accordion&lt;/a&gt; was my dad.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I do not really know for how long he played it, why he picked it up or even if he was any good, but what I do know is that he was never ashamed to admit that he played it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That is one thing that I love about my dad he is a big dork.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He does not care about what others think about him he just takes everyday one day at a time and enjoys every minute of each day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He is not the most stylish guy or anything like that, but that quite all right with him and me too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This way of life is something that my dad has instilled in me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He has made me realize that it is ok do be yourself and not worry about what others think.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am a big dork and I am fine with that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know that I do not fit the latest fashion trends and honestly I try my best not to.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love my dad and the fact that he made me the way I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BKxnJ5iyC-w&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BKxnJ5iyC-w&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=6936988"&gt;The Fray&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.fanpop.com/external/49605"&gt;How to Save a Life&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;Throughout this video by &lt;a href="http://www.songs-lyrics.net/so-The-Fray-lyrics-How-To-Save-A-Life-lyrics-How-To-Save-A-Life-lyrics-86044200600180032B.html"&gt;The Fray&lt;/a&gt; there are faint flashes of text that appear that are listed with numbers beside them as if they are put in a list.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They include things such as, have faith, remember, don’t be scared of death, and the number one love.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Watching this video and reading these listed words reminded me of my grandfather, Bill Kottmeyer, who passed away a few years ago now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was the first time that I had encountered a death that was close to me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Reading these words brought back many memories and emotions of the way I felt and the way that I knew my grandfather felt.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My grandpa had lived a very successful life and had over come many things.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He beat &lt;a href="http://www.cancersurvivors.org/"&gt;cancer twice&lt;/a&gt;, fought through years of sickness, made a better life for his children and always had a loving spot on his lap for his grandchildren.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He has been an inspiration to me and I know that many of the characteristics that I have come from him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was never able to make it to one of my high school basketball games, but when I was younger I always would shoot hoops and the neighbors house and he would always come out with his lawn chair and watch me play.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He always seemed so happy watching me play I wanted so badly for him to be able to watch an actual game of mine.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I now feel that every time I step onto the court to play a game he is still sitting in his lawn chair looking down watching me play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div id="container" style="position: relative; width: 320px; height: 308px;"&gt;&lt;div id="flash_container" style="position: absolute; top: 0px; left: 0px; z-index: 1;"&gt;&lt;object id="player989" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0" padding="0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" viewastext="" height="308" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="autoplay=false&amp;amp;assetId=video:asset:pmms:1846379&amp;amp;playerId=player989"&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://o.aolcdn.com/mediaplayer/players/fpm/fpm.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="src" value="http://o.aolcdn.com/mediaplayer/players/fpm/fpm.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://o.aolcdn.com/mediaplayer/players/fpm/fpm.swf" flashvars="autoplay=false&amp;amp;assetId=video:asset:pmms:1846379&amp;amp;playerId=player989" quality="high" name="player989" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" wmode="transparent" height="308" width="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="videoContainer" style="position: absolute; left: 0px; top: 32px; z-index: 2;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/sresult.asp?HT_Search=xartist&amp;amp;HT_Search_Info=Brooks+%26+Dunn"&gt;Hill Billy Deluxe&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.brooks-dunn.com/site.php"&gt;Brooks and Dunn&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.songs-lyrics.net/so-Brooks-%26-Dunn-lyrics-Hillbilly-Deluxe-lyrics-Hillbilly-Deluxe-lyrics-cchwswzw.html"&gt;This song&lt;/a&gt; is an energetic song about people just having a good time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the background you can see a huge bon fire with tons of people gathered around enjoying themselves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As soon as I saw this I escaped from this frigid cold and was back in a perfect summer night not to cold not to hot.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My Friends and I always used to go out to one of our favorite sand pits back in my hometown and have bon fires that everyone was invited to.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There never was anything to complicated or real creative about what we would do it was just a big group of friends, an old battery powered radio, some roasted wieners and marshmallows and an unlimited amount of good times.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My friends and I were always like that it did not matter where we were, what we were doing or who we were with we always had a good time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is funny that in a day and age where everything is so technologically centered and our &lt;a href="http://www.sosuave.com/quick/tip89.htm"&gt;lives are moving so fast&lt;/a&gt; that when I look back some of my greatest memories are from when all we had for entertainment were a couple of matches, some old logs and each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was like an escape for us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We could drive out to the sand pit in the middle of nowhere and be completely separated from the entire world.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It no longer mattered what kind of car you drove, how big your house was, or what kind of grades you got.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only concern on any one’s mind was letting lose and having a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0HDM3eYp4KQ&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0HDM3eYp4KQ&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/vitamin_c/bio.jhtml"&gt;Friends forever&lt;/a&gt; (graduation song), &lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=1096260"&gt;Vitamin C&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.songs-lyrics.net/so-Vitamin-C-lyrics-Vitamin-C-lyrics-Graduation-%28friends-Forever%29-lyrics-BC0139264001000564.html"&gt;Vitamin C&lt;/a&gt; takes you through a journey of what appears to be the last few days of her high school years and then into her graduation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kearneycats.com/kearneycats.com/Home.html"&gt;My high school&lt;/a&gt; graduation was not what you typically see in movies or normally think of when you hear of graduations.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our commencement as they called was as boring and as formal as the word sounds.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do not get me wrong we were all very excited, but there was never the traditional hat throwing, whooping and hollering, or any such excitement.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But as soon as we were out of the robes and out of the gymnasium the exhilaration could not be held back any longer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a mad rush of hugging, screaming, laughter and joy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After thirteen years of hard work it finally had all reached its’ end goal (thirteen years because I am counting kindergarten not because I took a grade twice).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I did not feel any different; I did not feel as if I had just achieved an amazing goal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It more felt like I had just reached something that had been expected ever since I started the whole process.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that since of it being expected took away some of the excitement and exhilaration, for me it was something I knew I had to do, for others it was a long hard fought battle that they had finally conquered.&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;It is very interesting that the same achievement can take such a different path to achieve.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That is the way life is some people struggle through the whole thing and others everything just seems to keep falling in place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or is it the person that determines the outcome?&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-xEzGIuY7kw&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-xEzGIuY7kw&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.weirdal.com/"&gt;Weird Al Yankovic&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=7276138&amp;amp;style=movie"&gt;White and Nerdy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?pid=7276138&amp;amp;style=movie"&gt;:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=""&gt;After multiple explanations of why Weird Al is being &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&amp;amp;q=stereotype"&gt;stereotyped&lt;/a&gt; as, “White and nerdy,” toward the end of the song there is a line, “Spend every weekend at the Renaissance Faire.” As soon as I heard this and saw the images that were placed with the lyrics I was sadly reminded that I once was at a &lt;a href="http://www.texrenfest.com/"&gt;Renaissance Festival&lt;/a&gt; and for this I too may be white and nerdy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am probably even more so because not only did I attend the festival, but also I wrote an entire essay on it.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;There were so many different things going on while I was there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Immediately when we walked in there was a large group of people learning a festival dance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were dressed in all different sorts of dress.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was one man dressed in an outfit with pastel colors of, yellow, blue, pink, orange, almost any color imaginable.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He also had on shoes that were curled on the ends that resembled the types of shoes that you imagine an elf wearing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The most abnormal thing that was that he was wearing a great deal of makeup.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His whole face was covered with a base of white with rosy red cheeks and bright blue eyes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As we continued on at the festival we entered a feast that seemed to go on for days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were some many different courses.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The food just kept on coming it was nearly unbelievable.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They served us crackers and cheese, three types of meats, rolls with five types of butter, wines of all sort and best of all a dessert that took you to heaven.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Renaissance festival was very awkward and maybe it was a little nerdy, but it was an experience that I had never encountered and never will forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-8172213058448568992?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8172213058448568992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=8172213058448568992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/8172213058448568992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/8172213058448568992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/12/soundtrack-of-my-life.html' title='Soundtrack of My Life'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-2954634423587722014</id><published>2007-11-15T00:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T00:53:03.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Music Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pULa7F1gWZM&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pULa7F1gWZM&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The reason that I do not like this music video is because of the song, her style and the topic of the song.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am not the kind of person that enjoys listening to punk or pop and Avril Lavene has in a complete disaster combined these two things to bring pain and torture to my ears every time I hear the song.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t mean to be stereotypical, but I just don’t like skater boys or girls for that matter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t like the way they dress I just don’t understand the whole sweat band, spikes, and all the rest.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that a lot of them are cool people after you get to know them, but they just put a type of ora that draws attention to themselves and that almost every time gets them labeled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The video goes on and in the end has a massive party in the street with the “hero” Avril Lavene throwing some kind of concert in the middle of the street on top of cars.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kids start running to this awful music like she is some modern day pied piper.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The lyrics to these songs really have to application to me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That is part of the reason that I feel I do not like this song at all.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tend to listen to songs that I feel I can identify with the lyrics.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It helps to draw you into the song and make it feel like it is a situation you have gone through or that could realistically happen to you sometime in your life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Me falling in love with some one and then them going into the professional music business do not seem to be in my near future plans.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also just do not like Avril’s style of music in general so it made it easy for me to already assume that I was not going to enjoy this music video one bit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-2954634423587722014?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/2954634423587722014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=2954634423587722014&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/2954634423587722014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/2954634423587722014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/11/worst-music-video.html' title='Worst Music Video'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-8311118483988538996</id><published>2007-11-11T14:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T15:21:50.489-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ol Red</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/piZ5E_UbJ2g&amp;amp;rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like this music video more for the song that it is put to more than the actual video itself. The song titled Ol Red by &lt;a href="http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/shelton_blake/artist.jhtml"&gt;Blake Shelton&lt;/a&gt; is a song that I find very creative and ironic. The song starts of by the man saying how he walked in on his wife cheating on him and it is implied that he ended up killing the man she was with. He then goes on to explain that he was sentenced ninety-nine years in prison. I can’t image what it would be like to be in prison. It would be terrible to be isolated from the entire world for the rest of your life. It would &lt;a href="http://www.hrw.org/reports/2001/prison/report.html"&gt;completely change you as a person&lt;/a&gt;; all of the things that were your normal daily routine or things that used to be important to you would no longer matter. Your Sunday priorities would go from relaxing reading the newspaper, watching some football, and maybe mowing the yard to physical labor, boring jobs, and terrible food. The artist explains that after two years he finally made friends with the warden at his prison. He made friends with him and was rewarded by only having to take care of the bloodhound that the prison would release if someone were trying to escape. He goes on to explain this is how he got out of prison he took the dog out to see a female dog every night. Ol Red got used to seeing her and so he kept him away for awhile made his escape and knowing as soon as they let the dog out he was free because he would run straight to the girl instead chase him. The closing &lt;a href="http://www.lyrics.com/url.php?link=http://www.geocities.com/islandlyrics/blakeshelton/blake05.txt"&gt;line of this song&lt;/a&gt; is the best, “love got me in here and love got me out.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-8311118483988538996?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/8311118483988538996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=8311118483988538996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/8311118483988538996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/8311118483988538996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/11/ol-red.html' title='Ol Red'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-3810448070997111175</id><published>2007-11-10T13:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T15:03:39.134-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Obey The Traffic Lights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://home.nycap.rr.com/steveslights/eagle_led.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://home.nycap.rr.com/steveslights/eagle_led.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.ideafinder.com/history/inventions/trafficlight.htm"&gt;Traffic lights&lt;/a&gt; are everywhere you go, they are an acquired knowledge with major importance, you obey them from the day you start learning to drive, and everyone one is different, but they all have the same purpose; to maintain order and provide a logical system.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Traffic lights aren’t something you think about everyday, they have become second nature, you know what each color stands for and you know that you must obey each rule.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These simple boxes with &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_street_lighting_in_the_United_States"&gt;three simple colors&lt;/a&gt; are far more than what they appear they are an orchestrated series of logical, visual and ethical appeals and a remarkable demonstration of a subtle argument with enormous importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All streetlights appear to be the same, they all have the same general goals, but they tell such a deeper story that is always overlooked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A streetlight can tell you a lot about a town, a certain intersection or even the time of night.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For example take the streetlight at the corner of &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?tab=wl"&gt;48&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; and O&lt;/a&gt; here in Lincoln.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is at the corner of one of the busiest intersections in the city and it reflects that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is about twice the size of a regular street light and has about twice the information.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It has lights telling you when to go, when to stop, when to use caution, when to turn right, when to turn left, when to go forward and turn right, when to just turn.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All of this information is needed to keep the intersection safe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On the other side of things imagine a streetlight in a small run down town that maybe sees a car three times a day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It only has the required information of when to go, stop, and use caution, or maybe it doesn’t even have that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe it is a just a simple flashing yellow light, telling you to use caution at all times, it is not a busy enough intersection or town to need much more instruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The streetlights are making an argument for order, a sense of safety and control that must be put in place to keep our streets safe and orderly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The main point that has been put in place with a streetlight is the element of logos.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Logos is the appeal to ones logic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A streetlight is filled with&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.engineering.ucsb.edu/%7Ekvampola/newyork/times_square_7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.engineering.ucsb.edu/%7Ekvampola/newyork/times_square_7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; nothing but logic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Think about it, you’re coming up to one of the busiest intersections in the world, right at the corner of &lt;a href="http://www.earthcam.com/usa/newyork/timessquare/"&gt;time square&lt;/a&gt; and suddenly the traffic light switches from green to red, do you ignore the light and cruise straight on through, of course not.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You must stop there isn’t a doubt in your mind, you use common sense and apply the breaks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t a hard decision for you, you knew that if you would have decided to disobey this critical analogy between color and safety, that has been developed through repetition of cause and effect, you would have sent yourself plummeting into a pile of cars and only rolling the dice to see if you would have survived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Moments later at the same intersection the light turns green you now know that it is safe for you to proceed, the logical tie to the color green that has been made allows you to feel safe for you to move forward.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&amp;amp;q=analogy"&gt;analogy&lt;/a&gt; is something that is not inherited or a piece of born knowledge it is something you must develop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Think about the exposure one gets to the analogy of red equals stop, green means go and yellow represents caution.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even when you are a young child years away from ever placing yourself behind the steering wheel of a car, when you don’t really need to know the slightest thing about driving rules you are exposed to this analogy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You develop it through playground games.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The game red light green light is a way to embed in you this analogy so when it does come time for you to start driving the analogy and cause and effect that you must execute is second nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cause and effect allows for this order, because the light is green you can go, because the light is yellow you will use caution and because the light is red you will stop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is a simple matter of cause and effect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If the argument is not taken seriously, if it is seen as worthless the results are horridness.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the year of 2006 alone there were nearly 33,000 accidents reported in the state of &lt;a href="http://www.neded.org/files/research/stathand/hsect6.htm"&gt;Nebraska&lt;/a&gt; (Nebraska Dept of Road Accident Record Bureau).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BM2gLjfE_3Y&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BM2gLjfE_3Y&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It is easy to see that the effect of not following traffic laws result in terrible effects.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One can easily compare the two sides of this argument.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They really aren’t hard to see, one side is obey them and the other is to not obey.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even the traffic light in itself is complete opposites.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Take the colors green and red, they are opposite of each other on the &lt;a href="http://gmazzocato.altervista.org/colorwheel/wheel.php"&gt;color wheel&lt;/a&gt; having completely different make up’s, but yet they are called complementary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They work together; they make the other better, just as in the traffic light.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stop is the exact opposite of go, but they too both complement each other, working side by side to give our lives a sense of safety and order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These simple colors of green, red, and yellow have never ending power tied to them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are powerful enough to save your life and keep America a civilized country to travel in, but they must be in the context of a streetlight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Outside of this context there is no longer an appeal of kairos, the appeal of time and place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Time and place is the key element of this argument.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you are walking down the street and you see a man in a red shirt you don’t automatically stop walking and wait for someone in a green shirt to walk by.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You know that outside of the context of a streetlight these colors have no more meaning than the colors pink and orange flashing in the sky.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trafficlights.com/"&gt;Traffic lights&lt;/a&gt; are commonly seen as just another part of our daily lives, but when dissected into its minute parts it is easy to see the careful planning that had been put into each light.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each light &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.kottke.org/plus/photos/200105europe/berzerkers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.kottke.org/plus/photos/200105europe/berzerkers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;gives different commands, some are telling you that you are free to proceed, this is not a place of concern for you, others let you know that you must be very alert and aware of other drivers.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They all no matter how complex or how simple are a perfectly developed argument directed toward our society.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are screaming that we must have order; we cannot be left to trust one another with our lives.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To make sure the argument is heard they have been carefully planned out with almost all elements of a good argument, logic, ethical appeal, time and place, compare and contrast, and visual appeal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These elements are all leading us to the desired goal of creating a system of order and logical movement.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Works Cited&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span id="roll465199"&gt;Nebraska Department of Roads Accident Bureau. "Types of Motor Vehicle Traffic Accidents." &lt;u&gt;Nebraska Department of Roads.&lt;/u&gt; 26 Oct. 2007.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-3810448070997111175?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/3810448070997111175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=3810448070997111175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/3810448070997111175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/3810448070997111175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/11/obey-traffic-lights.html' title='Obey The Traffic Lights'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-5753395677804041182</id><published>2007-10-20T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T16:05:12.994-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Huskers Fire Steve Peterson</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qfF6SIdGWYw" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/center&gt;The state of Nebraska had one of its' wishes granted this week; Steve Peterson was fired as the Athletic Director of Nebraska University. He was let go because of "management issues," but the real reason that he was fired was because of the lack of success of the football team this year. This would be a very difficult position for anyone to fill. Nebraska has an extreme obsession over our cornhusker football. If we aren't winning we don't want you as a coach, if you are getting us wins we don't want you as an athletic director. With the struggles that the huskers have been having this season Steve Peterson was fired. He will be filled by one of the most loved men by the general public of Nebraska, Tom Osborne. Tom was a coach here at Nebraska and brought a great deal of success and tradition to our program. He is now looked at as a savior. He is put in a very difficult situation though. There are five games left in the football season and people are under the conception that since Tom is back on campus we will some how magically be immediately back to championship caliber. This is really just an unreasonable goal. Tom Osborne addressed this issue of bringing the team back to where our program should be saying that he couldn’t just wave a magic wand and bring everything back to the way it used to be. He also explained that he isn't in the same position that he used to be. He no longer deals directly with the players, he will deal more with the coaches and their staffs. Even saying this everyone still has a sense of optimism, hoping and praying that things can be as again as they used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-5753395677804041182?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/5753395677804041182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=5753395677804041182&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/5753395677804041182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/5753395677804041182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/huskers-fire-steve-peterson.html' title='Huskers Fire Steve Peterson'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-6188064823999568495</id><published>2007-10-17T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T23:56:31.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.bohcooper.com/images/Studying-Boh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.bohcooper.com/images/Studying-Boh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so glad it is &lt;a href="http://www.nebrwesleyan.edu/cgi-bin/webevent/webevent.cgi?cmd=opencal&amp;amp;cal=cal8"&gt;fall break&lt;/a&gt;. I can't believe that we have been in school this long already. I can't believe I will be in school for this much longer. It is very interesting to me to look at the amount of time that we spend on school, grades, and things such as this throughout our lives. It is crazy to think about that you spend more of your time through high school at your high school compared to time spent in your on home. Your own home, where you are supposed to live. Maybe we should reconsider this, we should call or place of study our home. Now in college they are one in the same. The differences in the college and high school don't stop there though there are so many differences. But the one thing I do love about college is today, my last day of class for the next five days. I have so much I am going to do over fall break, well really I have so much that I am not going to do over fall break. And it is absolutely perfect, I wouldn't have it any other way. I think I will start off my day tomorrow by sleeping in until nine or ten I haven't decided yet. Somewhere in between these two times is the perfect amount of sleep. You don't sleep to long so your not drowsy the rest of the day, but you sleep just enough to feel energized all day. This crucial decision could lead to some very astonishing successes through the day or result in a wearthless day of laziness. After I have woke at the perfect time I will hopefully spend some much needed time with the ever dreaded &lt;a href="http://www.prairiewolves.com/"&gt;chemistry, math, and health books&lt;/a&gt;. This should take up a good portion of the morning. Which will lead me to feeling that this day was actually worth something, I haven't completely wasted today. After this ever enjoyable time is spent on these items I will have another day changing event, lunch. Unfortunately I will have no control over this event it will be out of my hands and fate will rely only on the lunch crew. If there is good food it could increase the worth of the day even higher. Or if the food is bad it could lead to a day full of the nagging ache of hunger. Only the gods know how this delima will turn out. Hopefully I will leave the cafeteria with a sense of enjoyment and pleasure. If this is the case my mind will divert directly to an over due research paper outline. I am afraid that this could be a bit of a low point in the day. It is truly something I am not looking forward to. I still need more information on my topic so this really could put a damper in the enjoyment of my fall break. After this it is on to practice which is a very enjoyable time of the day. I get to release all that energy that has been condensed inside of me from that perfect night of sleep and release it in a very enjoyable way. After that the plan is not so specific, who knows what the night will in store? After such a structured day it is the night that is fun, suprising, and crazy, it to like basketball is a release from all of the activities of the day. I think that for college students or any student at that to be succesfull you must have a release, you must be able to escape and give your mind a break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-6188064823999568495?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/6188064823999568495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=6188064823999568495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/6188064823999568495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/6188064823999568495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-so-glad-it-is-fall-break.html' title='Fall Break'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-709168319133548538</id><published>2007-10-14T22:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:17:37.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Young Criminals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.safedrivingschool.com/images/cop-car-animation.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.safedrivingschool.com/images/cop-car-animation.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What should we do tonight?" Asks moron number one. "I know what we should do says moron number two, lets go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vandalize&lt;/span&gt; some stuff. Wow what a great way to start out your night. I really don't understand what the thinking behind this way of entertainment is. I don't get it at all. Now don't get me wrong I have no problem and I even enjoy my fair amount of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mischievous&lt;/span&gt; activities, but I really don't understand the logic behind smashing pumpkins and stealing stuff out of peoples cars &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; you don't even know. I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; if you are gonna steal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; you should &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; steal something worth while. In the &lt;a href="http://www.journalstar.com/articles/2007/10/14/news/local/doc47129cdf61496755043442.txt"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; I read the story went on to tell about three boys that spent their last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; night smashing pumpkins and stealing stuff out of peoples cars that ended up amounting to an amazing total of 80 dollars. What does this say about our town on Lincoln? Does it say that, that is all there is to do around here or does it mean that there are just some kids that are &lt;a href="http://cjrarchives.org/issues/2002/2/court-stack.asp"&gt;mislead&lt;/a&gt;. I think that no matter where you live you are always going to here people talk about that there is nothing to do in the town that they live. I believe that is the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; excuse for doing something like this that I have ever heard. You begin out your night just hanging out with some friends and in these guys case the next thing you know is you are being chased by cops and getting arrested. I really just don't understand the thought process of some people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-709168319133548538?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/709168319133548538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=709168319133548538&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/709168319133548538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/709168319133548538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/young-criminals.html' title='Young Criminals'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-4690858487293446806</id><published>2007-10-10T18:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T18:22:15.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/30/91886836_aa702a8e1e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/30/91886836_aa702a8e1e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sleep, oh sleep. People always say, “You can sleep when you’re dead.” I always used to think that what they meant by that was that life and time is too valuable to spend your time sleeping through it. I think this is true; maybe you shouldn’t spend your whole life sleeping. But you want to know what I think this quote of the ages really means, it means sleep when you’re dead not because if you sleep now you’re wasting your life, but sleep when you’re dead because you can’t sleep now. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_deprivation"&gt;There is no time&lt;/a&gt;. Sleep is something that goes through a complete cycle over your lifetime. As a little child you are forced to go to bed by eight o’clock for your early bed time. Now I would do anything to be able to go to bed by ten o’clock and probably would claim a national holiday if I get be asleep by eight. When you’re little some of the best sleepovers, which is really an oxymoron in itself, are when you can go nearly the entire night without sleeping. You are the coolest kid on the block when you and a couple of your buddies pull of an all nighter. Now you are forced to stay up into the wee hours of the night. Longing so dearly to be able to rest your head on your feather soft pillow and feel the warm comfort of your blankets wrapped around you. When you are able to get that minute amount of sleep mashed in-between all the hustle and bustle it seems to be over before you even get your eyes closed. It is violently interrupted with that dreaded sound of beep, beep, beep. This usually is followed by another beep, beep, beep, only this time they are from you, not the alarm clock. After you finally drag your self out of bed automatically your first thought is when will I be able to crawl into bed again? &lt;a href="http://media.www.dailyorange.com/media/storage/paper522/news/2002/09/25/Feature/College.Students.Sleep.Habits.Harmful.To.Health.Study.Finds-280340.shtml"&gt;So what do you do about this dilemma&lt;/a&gt;? The question of when to find time to sleep is one that will never be answered.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-4690858487293446806?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4690858487293446806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=4690858487293446806&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4690858487293446806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4690858487293446806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/30/91886836_aa702a8e1e_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-4337051466290778044</id><published>2007-10-07T15:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T16:05:59.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Renissaince Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get out of the car and immediately you can see it, it appears to be a separate town of it’s own, far, far off into the distance. There is an old fence built up around the city, built of course out of fallen trees and timber that have been cut down by the brute force of a man. We are getting closer and closer, the SUV’s, sports sedans, and Harley Davidson’s, are beginning to be replaced with a mule pulling a carriage, two men pushing a wheel cart, and a knight &lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/050402renfaire_004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand" height="179" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/050402renfaire_004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;on a horse. In almost all directions it appears to be a technologically advanced society with cars and freeways, but straight ahead is something completely different. It is like a time capsule, it sticks out like a sore thumb, but is neatly tucked back into the trees. We are almost there now, losing the sense of time. Not in the sense I don’t know how long I have been here, but I am truly losing a sense of what year it is and what is truly present day? We approach even closer only steps away now. Our brains are rushed with millions of different sensations. Sounds of music draw us in, but nothing that will ever be played on a radio or that had ever put onto a record. It is &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance_music"&gt;music&lt;/a&gt; of bagpipes, violins, drums and symbols, very foreign sounds and beats. We are finally there, we are at the &lt;a href="http://www.kcrenfest.com/"&gt;cities gates&lt;/a&gt;, and as soon as we enter the gates we go back, no certainly not back to where we came, but back hundreds of years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oM_bgfMiJi0"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oM_bgfMiJi0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The talk is that of a different time. Tis not a different language certainly no, but tis a bit different. Your head is spinning trying to keep up; there is just so much to process. There are &lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/gallery_Renaissance_Festivals_Tenne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px" height="201" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/gallery_Renaissance_Festivals_Tenne.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;people learning a new &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance_dance"&gt;dance&lt;/a&gt;, “Left, back, rotate, clap, clap, clap, and turn.” I see young children dressed up as fairies, with wings, glitter, and flowers abound. There are peasants dressed in leathered sandals, shirts that appear to be made out of a burlock sack; all the while they have wooden mugs strapped around their waste. I see the Queen dressed in a dress large enough you could hide in, with sequences, ribbon shimmer and shine, catching every spectator’s eye. As we make our way through the town we are going further and further back, deeper and deeper into this mystic world. With each step escaping reality even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our journey tis not one without purpose, but one with a desired goal and celebration in mind. Thy journey is weaving and circling making rounds all over, but with the intent of a certain location and a certain time, time of course being an hour mark not one that would be studied in history books. At the hour of three we make our way to a &lt;a href="http://www.schools.net.au/edu/lesson_ideas/renaissance/renaissance_cookery_wksht.html"&gt;feast&lt;/a&gt;. The line is weaving all around like a snake slithering through all the commotion. It is full of eager people of all different ages. There is a little boy dressed in jean overalls and a husker t-shirt that inquires, “Mommy what are we doing here? What are we going to have to eat? I’m hungry.” This young lad has no idea what a glorious encounter he is about to have. Again suspense mounts as we wait for the gates to be opened. Curiosity is overtaking my body, once again losing a sense of where you are, what time it is, and why it tis that you are waiting in such a line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As soon as this last thought of logic races through your mind you are violently shook back into&lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/elephant-closeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" height="121" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/elephant-closeup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this world by one of the earth’s largest creatures. There is an elephant trudging around the town, &lt;a href="http://fohn.net/elephant-pictures-facts/"&gt;tusk and ears bigger than ever&lt;/a&gt;, ready to stomp any unsuspecting pedestrian. His master leads him only by a simple rod poking him which way to go and when to stop. The situation tis truly ironic such a massive animal taking commands willingly from such a hobbet of a man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tis I that regains our focus onto our desired goal of entering the feast. And again we wait, filled with wonder and curiosity. Then with a rush of excitement and glory the gates are hurled open. Pascal, our dinner host, greets us, “Hello my great people of the Queen!” We begin to take our seats with a scurry. There is a mad rush to get some of the prime seats near the front for best viewing of the festivities. We are unfortunate to get a seat on the side of the tent, but all is well and fare for the true festivities are about to begin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tis now that you are truly ready for the feast. Upon the second you enter the festivity you know that it tis going to be a glorious day. The emotion and excitement is rustling and bustling all around you. Everyone can feel the anticipation of what the day holds for him or her. There is a certain amount of expectation, but all expectations are about to be surpassed. No lad could ever come to imagine what is on the menu for entertainment and for the belly.&lt;br /&gt;Where does one start when there is such an overwhelming feeling of joy? Tis with the heart indeed. The heart is a joyous and fragile element that must be held strong, but not strangled. It must be caressed and stroked, but never squeezed. The first bit of entertainment was that in the art of &lt;a href="http://weuropeanhistory.suite101.com/article.cfm/renaissance_courtship_and_marriage"&gt;wooing&lt;/a&gt;. We were enchanted with all different types, origins, and styles. All of which becoming very successful in their own ways. The first display of wooing was by a man with sufficient grace, elegance, class, and charm. He used his valuable assets to look deep into the women’s eyes and make her melt. I have never seen such a powerful attraction between two unspoken strangers. She was absolutely devouring every moment. She was lost, lost in a world without heartache or pain. Lost in a world where falling in love was an everyday occurrence, time after time falling deeper and deeper in to love. Wishing never to return from her fantasy world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been said the key to a man’s heart is through his belly. Well the cook must have been Romeo’s Juliet because she was enchanting men and women, elder and child, all without even &lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/22851393.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/22851393.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;showing her face. Her wooing began with a plate full of fruits. Bighting into the grapes you could feel your mouth being rushed with juices as if a floodgate had opened. The crackers were of perfect texture first a firm crunch then ever so slightly dissolving in your mouth. Some of the finest cheeses and vegetables invigorated every taste bud. All of which were like taking your wedding vows to this unknown women. She had everyone longing and begging for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just as you let your appetite take a rest you are teased with an aroma that makes your mouth drip with saliva. At the moment it is undefiable, but you know that you are about to be pleased. Then it is delivered to you an enormous portion of mash potatoes, big enough you could eat with &lt;a href="http://www.larsdatter.com/feastgear.htm"&gt;a shovel&lt;/a&gt;. Sitting next to the potatoes is a heaping piece of beef that has been slowly simmered all day. Each bite of this thick, juicy, moist slab of meat is a divine sensation. You are stuffed to the brim and can’t take another bite. The eating must stop or you will surely explode.&lt;br /&gt;The feast is over and we are beginning to head back to the way we came. We have been blessed with a celebration fit for a king. This fantasy world is something that we must encounter again. If possible we must do it daily, every chance we get. We came into a new world full of imagination and it rewarded us handsomely. &lt;a href="http://ezinearticles.com/?The-Power-Of-Imagination&amp;amp;id=764398"&gt;Imaginations&lt;/a&gt; must be kept alive to enjoy life, it gives us a break from reality and is an amazing journey every time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-4337051466290778044?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4337051466290778044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=4337051466290778044&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4337051466290778044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4337051466290778044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/10/renissaince-festival.html' title='Renissaince Festival'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-9001904701079927862</id><published>2007-09-23T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T20:36:09.632-05:00</updated><title type='text'>President Lincoln Assasination</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zO3DodRdPv8"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zO3DodRdPv8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;President Lincoln was an amazing man with abnormally amazing senses on what decisions to make, but after watching this video I have a completely different feeling on exactly how amazing his sense really were.  You notice that President Lincoln reaches for his coat and puts it on, he is fidgety and you sense that he knows something is wrong that something is not right.  Then it happens and he is shot, and instantly it made me wonder how did he know?  Does this man have some sort of given gift or curse?  What would it be like to have this feeling?  To know that only seconds from now your life was going to be over.  All that you had hoped and dreamed for in the rest of your life will never come true.  And to have it come so unexpectedly, while in good health and making marvelous changes in the world. &lt;br /&gt;Then my thoughts went to the people with him that night.  I would not even know how to react to someone getting shot only feet away from me.  The emotions that would be running through you as you are trying to decide if you try to help this man or to try and catch the killer.  No matter what way you look at it you are in a state of panic and do not have a clue on how to act.  The thing that this video made me think of most is what type of person am I, am I the person that stays calm and saves a life or am I the person that panics and runs around like a chicken with their head cut off.  I would like to think that I am the hero type, but one will never have any way of knowing until put in that situation.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-9001904701079927862?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/9001904701079927862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=9001904701079927862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/9001904701079927862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/9001904701079927862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/president-lincoln-assasination.html' title='President Lincoln Assasination'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-4734522521545577200</id><published>2007-09-19T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T21:31:17.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Teammates</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It’s pitch black there is a still calm in the air, you feel as if you are the only one on the entire campus up at this hour, then you see someone far off in the distance a faint shadow lurking toward you, and another walking right behind you, you say nothing, but you know that they are there to face the same destiny that you are. They are not an enemy, you look at them as friends, partners, someone to lean on or even a teammate, yes that’s it a teammate that’s what they are. As your slow walk begins to end you have only started what will certainly be a journey. Then it hits you, you begin with only slight movements nothing to vigorous, but you know that it is only the beginning. Your body is telling you that it can’t, it doesn’t want to, but you must, you have to go on. You are now beginning to slightly glisten, only the beginning of what will soon look like you have jumped under a water fall. The pace starts to increase and with it your heart begins to beat faster, you are still feeling as if you are half asleep, longi&lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/F73ACB6922D24B1FA2006F497174F677.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/F73ACB6922D24B1FA2006F497174F677.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ng to lay back down in your bed, that in any other circumstance would be nothing but a hard uncomfortable mattress, but now it seems as if it would be like jumping into a marshmallow. Your legs are being stretched back and forth, back and forth. You can feel the agitation and pain from the pervious encounter. Now it’s your arms being twisted and pulled in all different directions and reliving the exhaustion from only a day ago. Now it really begins there is no going back now, your heart is pounding, you can feel it beating against your chest, screaming to jump out. You are sweating profusely, dripping from head to toe not a dry spot left on your shirt. It is almost over now you can see the light at the end of the tunnel just starting to creep in. Every muscle in your body has turned to mush. And with the rush that it started it is over. You gather with these what were once strangers, arranging in a circle bringing your hands in and hollering as if you enjoyed every minute of it. And with that you are gone, you re-step your walk back once again with what are maybe soldiers, maybe partners, maybe friends, but certainly a teammate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-4734522521545577200?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/4734522521545577200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=4734522521545577200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4734522521545577200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/4734522521545577200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/teammates.html' title='Teammates'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-7666732167807058792</id><published>2007-09-16T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T21:49:28.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bob Devanie Sports Center</title><content type='html'>This weekend I was walking around down by memorial stadium enjoying the festivities of the Cornhusker game that would later take place that night.  After I had been wondering for awhile I found myself down near the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Devaney_Sports_Center"&gt;Bob Devaney Sports Center&lt;/a&gt;.  The Bob Devaney Sports Center is where NU plays all of their men’s and women’s basketball games and is host to many other athletic events.  As I was walking by here my mind was jostled into remembering many memories that I have from previous years at Devaney.  While growing up me and my fellow classmates would journey to Lincoln for the highlight of our young basketball careers, we would come down and play in the MIT (Midwest Invitational Tournament).  It was the biggest tournament we would play in each year, but the best part about it was that it was on the same weekend as the High School State Basketball Tournament.  I loved it we made so many memories.  We met so many different people through that week and had so many good times sitting in the bleachers of Devaney.  As we grew older we started to come closer and closer to the moment when we would be in high school and hopefully make different memories at Devaney by playing there.  Two years later our dreams had come true we were once again in Devaney for the &lt;a href="http://www.nsaahome.org/"&gt;State Tournament&lt;/a&gt;, but this time wearing a jersey instead of street clothes.  It was amazing to play in front of all the people at a place that I had been going to ever since I was a little kid.  It was an amazing feeling to know that some little kid was sitting up in the same section that we always used to sit in and he was looking down at us making new memories for themselves.  It was such a rush to walk by a simple building, but be hit by so many memories and emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-7666732167807058792?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/7666732167807058792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=7666732167807058792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/7666732167807058792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/7666732167807058792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/bob-devanie-sports-center.html' title='Bob Devanie Sports Center'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-5758946860864171542</id><published>2007-09-12T23:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T23:51:31.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Former Lincoln Stripper seekds new murder trial</title><content type='html'>Excitement, arousal, murder, alcohol, cheating and misinterpretations, what more could you want in a story?  All the exciting and inspiring elements put into a good story are all in this article.  The most life changing event to happen in your life is about to happen.  You walk into the court room for a murder trial and the man that you rest your entire hope on is standing there in front of you.  The power that this man holds is ridiculous you step back for a second and start to think about what the effects of this day could have on your life this man has the power to get you off the hook and lead you into a successful rest of your life, or he can lead you into the state pen for the rest of your life. &lt;br /&gt;Once you have rejoined the rest of the court room you start to notice something, the man that holds the rest of your life in his hands is &lt;a href="http://www.safety-devices.com/baclimits.htm"&gt;drunk&lt;/a&gt;!  Not just a sip or two Bob Powers the attorney of stripper and convicted murderer, Andrea Morris, was stated to, “Have trouble walking.”  The court workers also mentioned they could smell alcohol on his breathe, but failed to mention this to Morris, apparently thinking that it wasn’t a major detail in the court case.  Morris is now demanding a new trial and rightfully so.  How can an intoxicated man have the power to decide if a women is thrown into jail for the rest of her life or if she gets to walk the streets as a free women.  On the other hand how can a women that was reported to be seen leaving the seen covered in blood even think she has half a chance at a new trial.  I am no alcoholic expert, but I would be willing to guess that even if Mr. Powers was sober he still wouldn’t have been able to get her off the murder charges.  Either way these two remarkable intelligent people made the &lt;a href="http://www.journalstar.com/articles/2007/09/11/news/nebraska/doc46e5d1bfaf5f5126471320.txt"&gt;Journal Star&lt;/a&gt; clinching their spot in moronic history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-5758946860864171542?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/5758946860864171542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=5758946860864171542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/5758946860864171542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/5758946860864171542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/former-lincoln-stripper-seekds-new.html' title='Former Lincoln Stripper seekds new murder trial'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-1643579441848783757</id><published>2007-09-10T13:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T13:30:07.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Recap from the Zoo</title><content type='html'>Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my! Actually I we didn’t view any of these animals during our visit to the &lt;a href="http://www.lincolnzoo.org/"&gt;Lincoln Zoo&lt;/a&gt; and I was very disappointed by this. I had never been to the Lincoln zoo. I have visited the Omaha zoo and was very impressed by it, so when we went through an entire zoo without even seeing the king of the jungle I didn’t know what kind of place they were trying to run here in Lincoln. I think the animals were very excited to see us, as we were to see them. The adventure started off by seeing a reindeer. Now this was no Comet, Donner, or even Rudolph, but he was a very impressive beast. I was captured by the elegance and grace that he presented himself with as he roamed about his cage. After his display of grace and strength there was no doubt in my mind on how Santa delivers all the presents on one single night. The journey continued with a stop at the turtles’ pin. These two young, agile, frisky critters were having the time of their lives. Sparks were flying, hearts were being joined as one, and love was in there air. It felt honored that I could witness such a pure love. I was saddened to see that the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baboon"&gt;baboons&lt;/a&gt; were having some marital problems this past weekend. We witnessed the true description of a marriage, the male was attempting to have a good time and the female wasn’t in the mood. The male became very angry at us for watching his actions so we left them at peace to try and work their conflict out. As we ventured on we visited the camels, wild birds, a jaguar, and many other exotic animals, but there was one animal that I never imaged they would have at the zoo, it blew my mind. We even have them here on our very own campus of Nebraska Wesleyan. Squirrels, yes the Lincoln zoo had a very rare breed of squirrels. They appeared to look very similar to the ones that are taking over our campus. After our trip to the zoo I contacted the zoo keeper and told him that some of his squirrels had escaped all over the city, I’m sure he will get right on recapturing these wild animals so we can all sleep at peace once again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-1643579441848783757?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/1643579441848783757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=1643579441848783757&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/1643579441848783757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/1643579441848783757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/recap-from-zoo.html' title='Recap from the Zoo'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-382448629884069927</id><published>2007-09-03T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T14:46:57.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Post I: Discourse Surrounding the Essay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/jamaicakincaid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px" height="275" alt="" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee248/bkottmey/jamaicakincaid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;“The Essay: and this is not a form of literary expression unfamiliar to me. I can remember being introduced to it. It was the opinions and observations of people I did not know, and their opinions and observations bore no relationship to my life as I lived it then.” &lt;a href="http://voices.cla.umn.edu/vg/Bios/entries/kincaid_jamaica.html"&gt;Jamaica&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamaica_Kincaid"&gt;Kincaid&lt;/a&gt; “Resisting Definitions”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I read this comment by Jamaica Kincaid I am reminded of a young child that is being stubborn and not willing to give anything a chance. It is very similar to the situation when a student would say to a teacher, “This is stupid, when am I ever going to use this.” This is the type of remark that Jamaica is making when referring to essays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are many things that at first glance appear to have no affect on your life, but when you take a step back and look at things again you realize the affect things can have on you. I encountered an experience similar to this when graduating for high school and beginning to make my way off to college. I was told, “College is a new experience and you will meet all different kinds of people, but the most important thing to remember is to be yourself.” At the time it seemed like just another person putting in their advice and wishing me good luck in school, but as I began to look back on it, it meant so much more. It reminded me of a poem I have framed entitled, “The Man in the Mirror,” it states that in the end he is the only one you must be happy with. This poem gives all kinds of deep inspiring advice and it comes from a person I have never seen, talked to and will never meet, but it has a huge impact on my life. The poem gives you an image of a wise old man sitting in his rocker reminiscing on his life and revealing the secrets of life with his grandchildren. That is what an essay should do it should have an enormous impact on your life even if you know that you will never see this person or maybe you don’t even agree with them, but it should make you challenge something, make you wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The imagery that an essay should portray is monumental in being successful. It should take you to a certain place in time; give you a certain feeling deep down in your gut. Only then will you know if you have a successful piece of writing. Essays are nothing more than a person sharing their thoughts with anyone who is willing to read them, but you can learn a lot from other peoples thoughts and that is why I disagree with Jamaica’s statement about the writers opinions having no relevance to her life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-382448629884069927?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/382448629884069927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=382448629884069927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/382448629884069927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/382448629884069927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/09/post-i-discourse-surrounding-essay.html' title='Post I: Discourse Surrounding the Essay'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4207195046655527829.post-7942968902376649221</id><published>2007-08-31T14:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T14:31:43.057-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Post</title><content type='html'>First post for ENG 001, Sec 07.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4207195046655527829-7942968902376649221?l=benkottmeyer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/feeds/7942968902376649221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4207195046655527829&amp;postID=7942968902376649221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/7942968902376649221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4207195046655527829/posts/default/7942968902376649221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://benkottmeyer.blogspot.com/2007/08/test-post.html' title='Test Post'/><author><name>ENG 001: Language &amp;amp; Writting</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15293749836041770628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
