Argumentative Paper

Batman is, by far, the greatest superhero of all time.  While some may argue that superheroes such as Superman or Spiderman are the best superheroes of all time, they must take into account three essential reasons.  First, Batman does not have any “special powers” like most other superheroes; second, his alter-ego, Bruce Wayne, is a well-respected philanthropist in his spare time; and third, he is the only superhero portrayed by an Academy Award-winning actor, Christian Bale.  With these claims, it is easy to assume that Batman is the best superhero of all time.

            Batman, unlike most other superheroes, does not have any “special powers” like, for example, Superman or Spiderman.  This makes Batman just like anyone else – only that he is a crime-fighting superhero who uses his human skills to combat the evil forces that Gotham City possesses.  Unlike Superman, who is “the man of steel,” or Spiderman, who was bit by a spider and has the senses and skills of a spider, Batman is forced only to use his wit and human strength.  In his scholarly journal, for the Johns Hopkins University Press, E. Paul Zehr comments on Batman’s lack of supernatural powers:

Possessing no supernatural powers, Batman is the most realistic of all the superheroes. His feats are achieved through rigorous training and mental discipline, and with the aid of fantastic gadgets. (p. 6)

This makes Batman easily relatable to anyone who is a fan of him.

            While he is very well-respected by his fans, he is also the alter-ego of Bruce Wayne, a well-mannered philanthropist in the fictional setting of Gotham City.  With his rich status, Bruce Wayne is able to maintain his status as a wealthy bachelor who uses his free time to contribute to charities and help the city he lives in by fighting the evil that the city possesses.

            Batman is also one of the only superheroes to have been portrayed in a feature film by an Academy Award-winning actor.  This only adds to the claim that Batman one of the most revered and prolific superheroes of all time.  In having such an astounding actor like Christian Bale portray him, Batman clearly shows why he is the best superhero of all time.

            In turn, Batman is clearly the best superhero of all time.  Superman and Spiderman, although close a close second and third, do not match up to Batman in any sense of the word.  Although people will always argue this claim, the evidence suggests otherwise.

Works Cited

Zehr, E. Paul.  Becoming Batman:  The Possibility of a Superhero.  Baltimore,            Maryland: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008.  Print.

The Times Are-a Changin'

Tuesday night, after class, I went home for the first time in quite some time.  Though a short break, the Thanksgiving vacation has always been one I would consider to be a sweet one – something I always looked forward to.  Throughout my undergraduate years, the routine would be rather simple:  Go home and see some people I haven’t seen for quite some time, eat tons of food, and take a break before the rush of finals took its toll on me.

Well, this vacation was surely that – to an extent. I did notice something that was a bit different.  Throughout the years, less and less people go home for Thanksgiving break for one reason or another.  Some people have jobs; others have a significant other that they met in college and spend the break with them elsewhere; and, as each year went on, I noticed that we all would make less of an attempt to see one another.  I guess this comes with age and “growing up,” however, as a graduate student, I guess this is the first year I truly realized how different things really are.

While Adelphi’s five-year STEP is a great program for attaining a master’s degree one year earlier than most people would, it definitely is a “step” out of reality for those in it. Technically, we go to school for five years in pursuit of a certification that would usually take six years.  In reality, however, it seems as if we use that fifth year to stall the reality that is life by still maintaining the same breaks as a regular college student, even having many of the same professors we did during our undergraduate years.

I guess that one argument people would use is that, as teachers, we are going to have very similar breaks as those who are in college.  However, what I realized this year is that the majority of those whom I used to spend Thanksgiving breaks with don’t quite have the same time off that we, as teachers will.

Am I saying I won’t/do love the time off? Of course I do.  Anyone who is anyone should love time off where they can gather their thoughts and prepare for the various other aspects of their life.  I guess I’m just sad to be “growing up” knowing that, while I delayed this phenomenon for one more year, I will probably be building my career and life elsewhere without the comfort of Thanksgiving break – and this concept of “home” before the stress that is finals -- to always remain the same.

Response to Michael’s creative writing tip #4: Never trust your memory

Ah, Michael…your creative tips have truly been enjoyable to read, especially the latest one: Never trust your memory.  I believe that, as writers, there are many times that we all choose to take our ideas, whether it be creative or analytical, and save those ideas for later.  And it is true – to an extent.  Too many times we do find ourselves searching for that thought that we had once before, unable to remember exactly what “brilliant” concept may have risen.

I also do believe that this comes typically when creating a piece that requires creativity beyond a certain realm of fluidity necessary to the creative piece’s words.  While, certainly, some of this rings true for the analytical writers who may try to rationalize or question the certain motives of an author, I do believe that developing a certain proposal to defend an argument or standpoint requires thinking that is not necessarily something that needs to be remembered at a certain moment, but should be thought about over time. 

In my opinion, this way of thinking takes time that is needed in order to construct these viewpoints.  While it may be beneficial to write down the thoughts that enter our minds at a specific moment (when thinking creatively), I believe that the other (thinking analytically) may not require being “written down” right away.

The English Language Arts CST (Yikes...)

Given the ability to choose freely about exactly what to post on this blog is something I do appreciate, especially after the New York State English Language Arts CST I took this past weekend…

I can’t say that I’m the greatest English student to ever graduate out of Adelphi.  I didn’t win any special awards, and I surely lack creativity that makes one a creative writer.  But, in all honesty, I did well.  I graduated with honors in my major and really feel like I had the pleasure of learning everything I could from all of the professors from the English department at Adelphi.

So, I didn’t do too much preparation for this exam.  I purchased the book and basically did all of the practice questions.  To say that I did well on these practice questions would be a stretch, but I still took the time to look up key words and phrases that I didn’t know.  With that, I’d say I spent some time reviewing.  Maybe not enough, but I didn’t go into the exam blindly, not knowing what to expect.

Still, I found myself struggling at points in the exam.  While some questions were fair, others came down to one choice or another (and by others, I mean most of them).  The test was, for the most part, evaluating skills that left me confused, bitter, and tired by the end.  I know I am not the only person who feels this way.  But by the end of the test, I was ready to log onto the website and sign up for another…

While the essay seemed so easy that I thought they mistakenly gave me the wrong exam, the multiple choice part of the exam still left me concerned.  I really hope I passed.  Considering that this is my first time taking it, I won’t be too upset if I didn’t pass, but I do know that I do not want to sit through another three hours taking an exam where I lack confidence for every answer I fill in.  The test was brutal, and I will defend that side of the argument to anyone who wants to challenge it. 

I guess, at this point, I’ve accepted that I may not pass.  The good news is that I can take the exam as many times as needed in order to get that passing grade, so I may just use this experience as a practice test if I don’t pass this time around (which, if you didn’t get the clue already, it means that this time was definitely a time of practice).

Tap. Tap. Tap...

The sound came from inside the closet.  Quietly, I crept toward the door.  But first, I knew I needed to protect myself if it was what I thought it was.

Why would my parents decide to go out to dinner on Halloween night? I’m only 11 years old.  I knew that convincing them that it was okay to go out tonight without me was surely not a good idea.  I realized that there was no time to cry about it now.  I convinced them that I was old enough to stay home alone.  Besides, if I was the one who saved our house from the beast, I knew my parents would handsomely reward me. 

So, with this knowledge, I crept towards the kitchen, not wanting to disrupt the thing in the closet.  I looked around, frantically searching for anything to protect myself.  Across the kitchen, to the left, I noticed the knife I had been dicing carrots with before.  It was roughly at a 45 degree angle, partially inched over the lower-left part of the stove.  Seeing the knife, I slid my way across the tiled floor in my socks, knowing that it would lessen any noise I was sure to make. 

The beast shrieked again. 

I knew that the beast was going to make its move any minute, so I had to make my way over to the closet quickly.  Slower than a mouse, I made my way over to the door.  Holding the knife in my right hand, I motioned my left hand over to the doorknob, still a few steps away. 

It’s now or never.

Inching my hand over to the doorknob, I began to open the door.  It was time to unlock it.  Not wanting to look in what would be the beast’s eye level, I watched my index and middle fingers come together, turning the lock to the right.

With nothing but fear, the door swung its way towards me.  Interestingly, the inside of the closet no longer existed.  The room, which once contained winter coats, scarves, blankets, and shoes, was now a glowing white light that seemed inviting.  Dropping the knife on the floor, I took my first step into the closet.     

My journey was about to begin.

Expecting the Unexpected: My Pre-Halloween Weekend

Hello again, all.

Happy early Halloween.  Friday and Saturday nights must have been an interesting one for countless people, quite possibly an extremely fun time for some.  My weekend was worthy of note, but not anything quite “Halloween” – like.

This past weekend, I went out east, back home out to the east end of Long Island.  I actually didn’t really have a choice in the matter, being that I had to get home to work at my family’s restaurant since both of my parents are overseas enjoying themselves for their anniversary.  Since my uncle was alone, I was asked to help out Saturday night, but went out Friday to tend to small errands I had to accomplish before the weekend came.

With that, I made my way over to the restaurant/pizza parlor that has become such an important part of who I am.  To give a brief history, in 1971, my grandfather opened the business after bringing his family over the year before from Palermo, Sicily.  In 1989, I was born. Being part of a family business has ultimately shaped much of my personality to date, considering I’ve worked there since before I can remember.  So, when asked to help out, I do.  Even when I am not asked to help, I do anyway.  It’s part of a life I’ve tried to avoid, yet still continue to accept because of the pride I take in knowing the business has such a long, rich history of family tradition.

Though the schedule tries to remain as consistently correct as possible, it never quite happens that way.  I was actually only scheduled to work Saturday night, not Friday.  Considering my friend Mike works there, I went in around 5:00 on Friday night to give a quick hello before the dinner rush came in.  Little did I know that, by 5:15, I was tied my apron on and was opening clams for Linguini White Clam sauce and preparing countless orders of Eggplant Parmigiana.   The dining room was filling up, and I happened to be the only person in the kitchen other than the dishwasher. Because my eldest brother, a Social Studies teacher in Brooklyn, had parent/teacher conferences and was stuck in traffic with no way of getting to the store before the rush hit. 

Eventually, my brother came to save me.  By 9:15, the last table left, and I was just starting to mix the pizza dough.  For the next hour, we were cutting the dough balls to the perfect weight and rolling each one up to the perfect ball.  After cutting and rolling approximately 120 balls of dough, I cleaned up a bit, went home, showered, and put on my mask: Michelangelo from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (it was actually a cheap imitation of a mask that I basically threw together at the last minute.  Give me a break, I unexpectedly worked all night).  Then, I went out with some friends and enjoyed the Friday before Halloween.

Not a bad weekend, if I say so myself.  Was it unexpected?  Of course.  But life seems to be that way, so I’ve learned to stay prepared to put on my apron whenever my name gets called.

A Close Call - Creative Writing Piece

The streets of Cairo were engulfed in chaos.  Abasi, a strong, and determined young man, wearing tarnished clothes that had not been washed in days, charged the streets with fellow protesters for the fifth day in a row.  Abasi met friends early in the morning to discuss their plans of rebellion for the day over a hearty meal of fava beans, tomatoes and pita bread.  However, a sudden feeling struck Abasi causing him to abandon his companions at breakfast with no explanation.

            Alone and on foot, Abasi entered the dangerous streets of Cairo.  He passed several houses with boarded up windows and doors to prevent more looting from occurring, while cars and buildings were still smoking from the rampage of the previous night.  Everything was shut down.  Functioning restaurants, homes, shops, and rest areas seemed to only be a memory.  Cairo: a city known for its cultural life including beautiful Islamic architecture was beginning to look about as attractive as a broken toilet.  A true cesspool of outrage. 

            Still alone floating around the streets, Abasi began to fear for his wellbeing.  He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, as if something horrible would soon happen if he did not act immediately.  Determined to change his current mood, Abasi continued forward on his mysterious journey.

            Abasi then saw his neighbor Archna on the sidewalk passing by.  Archna was slightly younger than him, but he had always thought she was a very cute girl, whom he predicted would one day turn into a beautiful woman.  Abasi briefly greeted Archna with a smile, but after shortly realizing he had no time to stop and chat he continued walking.  After a few more blocks of drifting, Abasi noticed Archna had been following him.  “I can’t hang out right now Archna,” shouted Abasi.  Though he seemed dismissive, the lovely young lady remained in his proximity.

            The streets painted with skid marks reeked of burnt rubber and turmoil.  Abasi felt as if he was about to explode like the many buildings in the city’s warzone.  “Abasi!” shouted a tender voice.  It was Archna, this time only a few feet behind the young man.  “I don’t think you should be alone, the police will mistake you for a looter.”  Archna’s concern made Abasi want to compliment her on her beauty, but he held back.  “I’ll be fine on my own, you’re the one who shouldn’t be alone in this part of town,” replied Abasi with a skirmish look on his face as if he had been looking directly at the sun.   “Where is it that you’re going in such a hurry?  My parents said everyone in our neighborhood was supposed to meet by the mosque at noon.  Why don’t you come with me?” asked Archna.  Her eyes, which to him seemed deeper than the Nile, caught his attention.  He could feel her look judging him as if she knew exactly what was wrong.  He had to go.  “I have to go, I’ll meet up with everyone later..I just have to go now!” shouted Abasi.  Archna’s eyebrows crinkled in curiosity.  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you later,” she shortly replied.  She then quickly turned around and marched in the opposite direction. 

            Abasi was now almost running through the disastrous city.  His legs were stiff and straight, similar to the walking motion of the Frankenstein monster.  Weaving in and out of tanks and army vehicles Abasi began to think about Archna.  Perhaps he was rude to her, but it was for her own good.  He had to be alone right now.  He had to keep moving.  He would apologize to her later, and perhaps comment on her beauty.  The thought of her allure reminded him of how Cairo was once a physically admirable place.  Such a thought     temporarily relieved Abasi of the agitated sensation he felt deep inside him.  However, the sounds of gunshots in the distance quickly stole any feelings of composure away from him. 

            Abasi began running at full speed.  He had almost made it to his goal.  It was in sight, but the faster he ran the further it appeared.  Each step seemed an eternity.  Abasi’s toes began to curl and his forheard started to perspire profusely.  His palms sweating with his pulse exploding Abasi felt ill.  Doubts began to enter his mind, and he considered abandoning his mission.  His vision became cloudy as he felt no control over himself.  He was so close.  The pain would soon be gone.  The end of his suffering was becoming more and more familiar.  Abasi began to think of his parents- he wanted them to help him.  Just as his agony peaked to a place he had never experienced, Abasi loosened his belt.

The sounds of terror echoed the walls of the public restroom as Abasi let out a serious fudge dragon.  The dookie appeared to be larger than King Tut’s tomb.  Abasi’s suffering had finally vanished.  He then promised himself never to eat fava beans for two days straight ever again.  Now that his internal struggle had been conquered he was able to pursue his participation in the revolution.  He would go on to join his fellow rebels to flush away the oppressive ways of Mubarak, and perhaps have a go at the relationship he could now confidently spark with Archna.