Thursday, 2 December 2010
GOOD/BAD News
Turns out that these essays i've been writing aren't suppose to be persuasive. But more personal thought mixed with some reference material to support. I hope he likes my earlier work
SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will be asleep for the next 3 hours. no more brain power need recharge.
24 HOURS!!!!!
I have officially past the twenty four hour mark of being awake. It has gotten so bad that my teacher just told me i failed another assignment, and it didn't phase me. I.....NEED......SLEEP.
Worlds Longest Poop Joke
I have decided to take a nap after class, but i didn't want to leave you hanging, so here is a little break for you! it's an epic poem i wrote last year, classy style, but gross topic, have fun!
The stage was set, the field of men chosen,
The mighty throne of polish’d porcelain.
It stood so pure, a bowl of shimm’ring white :
Great Ramses would have praised the plumbéd sight.
Upon this throne the noble heroes sat:
Frasier the strong, Tristian the odd, Gord -- fat!
Great men of old have knelt in humble prayer
Once God almighty hath enthroned sat there
For seven days and seven bounteous nights
From hence Our Lord proclaimed “Let there be light!”
T’was on this throne we three chose to battle
Men shall squeal and bowels shall rattle!
Women will faint, and children will sob- cry!
As we fine three will drop in great supply
The products of our intestine loop
Each great man seeks to lay the golden poop
The first among us was noble Dillon.
His heart was pure and his stomach fill’n.
Upon the regal throne our Dillion sat.
He loaded his gut, and prepar’d to shat
We gathered round in anticipation
Will Horth rise, or fall in devastation?
We heard the sound of such a horrid fight.
As if Jupiter, had let loose his might.
Groaning, moaning, and swearing could be heard;
We kept ourselves in silence and observed,
A final cry of victory let out!
No other sound could echo like this shout.
We held still, thinking could the finish be?
The battle over, with the first of three?
Our hero emerged armoured in sweat .
He wept tears of joy, cheering fans he met.
Riley was suspicious, he checked the poop,
Then dashed back out, he sang “Stop! We’ve been doped!”
We all fell to silence, oh what treason.
Good Dillon hath lied, for what reason?
“It’s teeny, TINY, no bigger than a quarter!”
“Agast!”, “Oh woe!”, “how could he?”, “what Horror!”
Anger washed over, “He must be punished!
He who has lied, for he hath not won it.”
After the swirly, Great Riley stepped up,
Filled with the ammo of dinner last sup.
His heart was broken awashed with sorrow,
Lies sat on him like Kilimanjaro.
His grief was greater than any other man.
At site of him, angels wept till just sand
Was all that was left in their loving eyes.
Great Riley did mourn but he could not cry.
The wat’ry tears were flushed into his bowels,
They fountain out an amber flood most foul,
A waterfall of dark mahogany.
So fell our prophet, leader, prodigy
Cast into bleakness by his friend Dillon,
That treasonous, vile, rat, oh the villain.
We all sat silent, there was no hero.
Could it be that of the honoured three-Zero?
Our final fighter was light and breezy,
We prayed for triumph to our Stevie.
For he was our, King Author Penn dragon,
The man who ate beans and drank a flagon.
Steve strode in, his gut packed with vast power.
Again we sat still and waited for an hour.
Will Steve have the might to deliver us
From treason, and sorrow? Oh Gods he must!
We waited like children, with baited breath.
The door flung open, and what happened next;
Steve, like Ozymandias, did declare
“Look on my works ye mighty and despair!”
The people cheered and children danced in loops,
For the Lord hath laid almighty poop!
It stood on its own and rose from the bowl,
Like a ladder to heaven, brown and full.
Solid, like a monument to his name,
A tombstone for sorrow and for great shame!
So did end our story recounted full,
Of the greatest hero to use the bowl!
The stage was set, the field of men chosen,
The mighty throne of polish’d porcelain.
It stood so pure, a bowl of shimm’ring white :
Great Ramses would have praised the plumbéd sight.
Upon this throne the noble heroes sat:
Frasier the strong, Tristian the odd, Gord -- fat!
Great men of old have knelt in humble prayer
Once God almighty hath enthroned sat there
For seven days and seven bounteous nights
From hence Our Lord proclaimed “Let there be light!”
T’was on this throne we three chose to battle
Men shall squeal and bowels shall rattle!
Women will faint, and children will sob- cry!
As we fine three will drop in great supply
The products of our intestine loop
Each great man seeks to lay the golden poop
The first among us was noble Dillon.
His heart was pure and his stomach fill’n.
Upon the regal throne our Dillion sat.
He loaded his gut, and prepar’d to shat
We gathered round in anticipation
Will Horth rise, or fall in devastation?
We heard the sound of such a horrid fight.
As if Jupiter, had let loose his might.
Groaning, moaning, and swearing could be heard;
We kept ourselves in silence and observed,
A final cry of victory let out!
No other sound could echo like this shout.
We held still, thinking could the finish be?
The battle over, with the first of three?
Our hero emerged armoured in sweat .
He wept tears of joy, cheering fans he met.
Riley was suspicious, he checked the poop,
Then dashed back out, he sang “Stop! We’ve been doped!”
We all fell to silence, oh what treason.
Good Dillon hath lied, for what reason?
“It’s teeny, TINY, no bigger than a quarter!”
“Agast!”, “Oh woe!”, “how could he?”, “what Horror!”
Anger washed over, “He must be punished!
He who has lied, for he hath not won it.”
After the swirly, Great Riley stepped up,
Filled with the ammo of dinner last sup.
His heart was broken awashed with sorrow,
Lies sat on him like Kilimanjaro.
His grief was greater than any other man.
At site of him, angels wept till just sand
Was all that was left in their loving eyes.
Great Riley did mourn but he could not cry.
The wat’ry tears were flushed into his bowels,
They fountain out an amber flood most foul,
A waterfall of dark mahogany.
So fell our prophet, leader, prodigy
Cast into bleakness by his friend Dillon,
That treasonous, vile, rat, oh the villain.
We all sat silent, there was no hero.
Could it be that of the honoured three-Zero?
Our final fighter was light and breezy,
We prayed for triumph to our Stevie.
For he was our, King Author Penn dragon,
The man who ate beans and drank a flagon.
Steve strode in, his gut packed with vast power.
Again we sat still and waited for an hour.
Will Steve have the might to deliver us
From treason, and sorrow? Oh Gods he must!
We waited like children, with baited breath.
The door flung open, and what happened next;
Steve, like Ozymandias, did declare
“Look on my works ye mighty and despair!”
The people cheered and children danced in loops,
For the Lord hath laid almighty poop!
It stood on its own and rose from the bowl,
Like a ladder to heaven, brown and full.
Solid, like a monument to his name,
A tombstone for sorrow and for great shame!
So did end our story recounted full,
Of the greatest hero to use the bowl!
Lie Down, But No Napping!!!
I have learned so much in the last 9 hours, and if i ever do this again i shall do the following
-Start right after some good sleep, not just carry over from the day before
-probably do all my notes before hand
-Invest in Coffee machine, because tay is not strong enough
anyhow im going to take a long break, probs wont be on for a couple hours, don't expect anything for like 3 or four hours
-Start right after some good sleep, not just carry over from the day before
-probably do all my notes before hand
-Invest in Coffee machine, because tay is not strong enough
anyhow im going to take a long break, probs wont be on for a couple hours, don't expect anything for like 3 or four hours
These Are Getting Worse, Acting Voice
Ok here's essay 6 which means i have just past half way on the Mini essays
Im thinking im going to stop with them now, and begin gathering notes for my film essay which must be 1500 words, then a power nap, then back to the mini essays, then finish with some more film
An actor’s voice is as important as an actor’s body. As Barranger puts it, “The voice is our means of communicating to others, presenting ourselves, expressing our personality, thoughts, and feelings.” There is a need for us to speak and communicate. For actors that need is rooted in conveying a story, and defining a character.
The hard part of conveying character through voice is the practicality of theatre, as Cohen puts it “You must live the life of your character, but also be heard in the back row.” Actors must be able to whisper so that it sounds like a whisper but is also able to be heard by the audience. Volume is only part of the challenge, because even if you’re heard, you still have to create that believable connection between you’re character and the audience because “Unlike the singer whose ‘sound’ is the message, the actor’s voice is an extension of a person” says Barranger. The accent must be correct, If an actor is suppose to be Italian, but he sounds like Michael Caine, the audience wont believe him. If you’re actor is suppose to be energetic and bouncing around, but the voice sounds depressed, then the audience wont connect with the character.
Barranger describes modern voice training as “Open[ing] up the possibilities of the voice-its energy, its instinctive responses to what the actor has to say.” The point of voice training is to open up the different kinds of characters for the actor to choose from. It is important that the actor learn to combine both physical body movement, and voice to accurately portray the emotions and complexities involved the the character.
An actor’s voice is a tool of communication, just like the actor’s body. Different tones can denote different emotions, and or meanings to the speech. When combined with the body, the actor now has two effective tools, from which he can communicate a character with depth, and complexity.
Im thinking im going to stop with them now, and begin gathering notes for my film essay which must be 1500 words, then a power nap, then back to the mini essays, then finish with some more film
An actor’s voice is as important as an actor’s body. As Barranger puts it, “The voice is our means of communicating to others, presenting ourselves, expressing our personality, thoughts, and feelings.” There is a need for us to speak and communicate. For actors that need is rooted in conveying a story, and defining a character.
The hard part of conveying character through voice is the practicality of theatre, as Cohen puts it “You must live the life of your character, but also be heard in the back row.” Actors must be able to whisper so that it sounds like a whisper but is also able to be heard by the audience. Volume is only part of the challenge, because even if you’re heard, you still have to create that believable connection between you’re character and the audience because “Unlike the singer whose ‘sound’ is the message, the actor’s voice is an extension of a person” says Barranger. The accent must be correct, If an actor is suppose to be Italian, but he sounds like Michael Caine, the audience wont believe him. If you’re actor is suppose to be energetic and bouncing around, but the voice sounds depressed, then the audience wont connect with the character.
Barranger describes modern voice training as “Open[ing] up the possibilities of the voice-its energy, its instinctive responses to what the actor has to say.” The point of voice training is to open up the different kinds of characters for the actor to choose from. It is important that the actor learn to combine both physical body movement, and voice to accurately portray the emotions and complexities involved the the character.
An actor’s voice is a tool of communication, just like the actor’s body. Different tones can denote different emotions, and or meanings to the speech. When combined with the body, the actor now has two effective tools, from which he can communicate a character with depth, and complexity.
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