The sun baked the Gambling Capital of the World on a skillet known as the Mojave Desert. Although the temperature peaked over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the dry Western air felt cool compared to the humid Southern atmosphere. It was nearly 6 o’clock, but the sun would not rest for another few hours. My family and I were seated in a corner of the Cosmopolitan Hotel’s Boulevard Pool where we relaxed in the shade and breeze, away from all the tourists stirring up commotion and conglomerating together to sunbathe in the day’s final rays. Britney Spears stared into my eyes as she draped over the midsection of the Planet Hollywood Hotel, advertising her Vegas show. Sitting down and watching the tourists and cars inch through traffic down the Strip four stories below became boring, so I pulled out my iPhone from my holster and opened my social media platforms. First, Snapchat. Then, Instagram. Finally, Facebook. It felt nice to relax. My parents were conversing in their native language of Filipino, which I was struggling to learn, but I did understand a few words. They smiled and laughed as they conversed about all …show more content…
sorts of things, the meaning tucked away in a vault of Filipino. “There was a shooting in Chattanooga,” my mom said, a wave disrupting the tranquility of the lake of relaxation my family and I were swimming. “Where did you see that?” I asked, in shock. “It was on Facebook,” she responded, flashing the story on her phone towards me. This seemed commonplace for a place similar to Chattanooga, the fourth-largest city in the state of Tennessee, but the dismal tone of her voice implied something was afoot. Their faces became serious, an odd expression rarely seen in Las Vegas. This was no ordinary shooting. I started to research this Chattanooga shooting on my phone. Disbelieving, I went onto the CNN website, and the news struck me in the heart, a bullet that would take the rest of the week to dislodge. It shocked me; sparks of terror flew everywhere from the defibrillator that took the place of my phone. Immediately, I sought out as much information as I could, with my curiosity strangling me, as if I was trying to complete a research paper the night before an unknown deadline. After reading almost a dozen articles, this was the information I found: On the morning of July 16, 2015, Mohammod Youssef Abdulazees sprayed a barrage of bullets onto a strip mall military recruiting center and a Naval operational support center, killing four marines that day. Policemen later shot and killed the suspect. There allegedly was an ISIS Twitter account that tweeted about the attacks as they were starting, claiming responsibility, but those rumors were reported to be false. Fox News fell for the trap and publicized it, but many other websites rebuked the claims, saying that the timestamp on the screengrab of the Tweet was not from the Eastern Time Zone. I felt relieved that the Tweet was false, but those shootings were still an act of domestic terrorism. Dozens of other terrorist attacks had already taken place around the world this past year. It had become so ordinary already; any word about a terrorist attack usually would not a create large dents in my shield anymore, but today was different. Not in a million years would I worry about a terrorist attack in the state of Tennessee. It unveiled a light, shining a new understanding of how vulnerable at home everyone is, from behind a curtain of comfort and security. I still could not comprehend that a small city in East Tennessee would be the victim of a terrorist attack. It did not happen in New York or Los Angeles or even Las Vegas! It occurred in Chattanooga, Tennessee, home of Lookout Mountain, Ruby Falls, and the MoonPie. The thought that my hometown of about 10,000 people could be the next target of either a bombing or shooting inspired by terrorism transformed into a ghost that would haunt me for a while. I soon realized that no one is safe from these attacks. These people seem like ordinary citizens, but after some sort of motivation, whether it be personal issues or radicalization, they would transform into beasts who kill the lives of innocents. It is not just terrorism that I should be worried about, but domestic violence as well. One day at school, a shooter could rampage through the hallways unexpectedly. The nearest school shooting actually had taken place 20 years ago in Paducah, Kentucky, a city nearly twice the size of where I live and 57 miles away. Fear started to swirl into a cyclone in my mind.
I started to create escape plans, preparing for the worst if someone tried to bomb Las Vegas. I looked up from my phone to the poster of Britney Spears ahead, but the thought of her face exploding, a pimple being popped on the nose on the face of the city, swarmed my mind like a bee. An escape plan hatched into my brain: I would duck behind the railing, use the concrete and glass bannisters to shield myself from the debris that would fly from the soon-to-be demolished hotel, and grab my family and run to the nearest exit, which was behind us by a few feet. The thought that the Cosmopolitan, a 61-story giant, collapsing in the same fashion as the World Trade Center in 2001 horrified me. Sweat started to roll down my body out of fear, not heat, and my anxiety created a whirlwind of
panic. “Did you hear it killed four people?” I asked, snapping myself out of the hypnotic trance my fears constructed. My mom responded, “It did?” She paused and took a breath, staring through the glass railing as her facial expression turned grim. “You never know what could happen today or tomorrow. That’s why you should be thankful of your blessings and remember to pray.”
In 102 Minutes, Chapter 7, authors Dwyer and Flynn use ethos, logos, and pathos to appeal to the readers’ consciences, minds and hearts regarding what happened to the people inside the Twin Towers on 9/11. Of particular interest are the following uses of the three appeals.
Imagine walking up on the scene of that fateful day of 9/11 knowing absolutely nothing apart from the talk around you, seeing the black smoke accumulating around the World Trade Centers, hearing the blare of sirens as the police cars accelerate by. Thomas Beller knew what all those things felt like. He was a simple pedestrian riding his bike going about his everyday life when he saw the black smoke, heard the sirens, and felt the whip of the police cars speeding by. Beller had no clue what was going on when he approached the scene, but in his personal narrative “The Ashen Guy” he explains his recollection of what he experienced on that historical day. Beller uses tones such as chaotic, nervous, confused, and worry to illustrate a picture of what it was like for him to approach the World Trade Center.
On the fateful and unforgettable afternoon of June 17, 1972 Hotel Vendome experienced yet another fire. Actually it experienced several fires in different locations on this date. Electricians working on the first floor reported smoke coming from the upper floors, and a bartender reported smoke in the basement. All occupants in the basement café were safely escorted out, and 3 engine companies, 2 ladder companies, and 1 District Chief arrived on scene noticing ...
On September 11, 2001 four passenger commercial jet airliners were hijacked and as a result approximately 3,000 human lives were lost. When asked about 9/11, many can recall exactly what they were doing when they heard the news that a plane crashed into one of the World Trade Center (WTC) buildings and many Americans can tell you how it all unfolded and the reason behind such a travesty. The “official story” provided by officials, and restated by Sofia Shafquat, producer of “9/11 Mysteries: Demolitions” say that “four passenger planes were hijacked and taken radically off course, within an hour, two of the planes had flown into the enormous steel towers of the World Trade Center, creating fires and eventually toppling them” (Shafquat). Soon the American public believed that the impact of the planes and that the fires had gotten so hot from burning jet fuel, that they caused the steel frames of the buildings to give way and implode, falling to the ground into dust (Shafquat). Internal fires take on the responsibility of the official story, though others believe controlled demolition is to blame. Some evidence that debates these two explanations of how the steel towers fell are: the way the buildings collapsed, the properties of steel, and the evidence of molten metal.
For many of us “regular folk”, we dream of visiting California and seeing celebrities or even being one. We see Hollywood as a heaven or even a holy bubble that we all want to be in. This is not true for all, but it is for most. We as a society do not generally think of the negative impacts Hollywood and fame has on an individual. Carrie Fisher, with her wit, humor, and extreme honesty, takes us inside her life and gives us her insight on Hollywood based her upbringing. After going through multiple triumphs, tragedies, and revelations Fisher writes about it all in her book, Wishful Drinking, along with three other novels she has written. Now you see why I used the term “regular folk,” because Fisher is the opposite of a “regular folk.” Even
Eric Fischl’s Tumbling Woman created quite a stir when it was put on display at the Rockefeller Center, just one year after the events of September 11, 2001. After being displayed, it was quickly removed. Many thought the sculpture was too graphic to be displayed. Even though the statue brought back painful memories for many, the Tumbling Woman should not have caused controversy because it recreated an important event in every Americans’ life and captured the emotions of the individuals trying to escape from the Twin Towers. The sculpture allows us to rethink and re-experience the events of 9/11, as well as remember the event as not just a tragic event that killed over 3,000 people, but also as an event of human tragedy. Why did the Tumbling
In the article, “The Great American Desert”, Edward Abbey (1977) is trying to convince the general public that the desert is not a place for humans to explore. He talks a lot about the dangers of the desert and tries to convince the readers that the desert is not worth wasting your time and going and visiting. I disagree with Abbey. Anyone who has some knowledge about the desert and takes a class or is accompanied by an expert who knows a lot about the desert should be able to venture out in the many great American deserts.
Rodriguez highlights comfortable, soothing, and intimate sounds of his family language by saying, “Spanish seemed to me the language of home. It became the language of joyful return. A family member would say something to me and I would feel myself specially recognized. My parents would say something to me and I would feel embraced by the sounds of their words. Those sounds said: I am speaking with ease in Spanish. I am addressing you in words I never use with los gringos. I recognize you as someone special, close, like no one outside. You belong with us. In the family”. The private language is like an intimate secret code among the family. Despite the struggle with their family languages, the author understands that the private language being spoken has been a large part of their lives and has helped shaped their view of the
Even though people aren't seen throwing themselves out the windows like in other images it is said that a spiritual image was seen in the smoke of that tower. September 11 is a day full of nightmares for many individuals.
When a change like an emergency happens people panic because they don’t know how to respond. In “From Simplexity” the author, Jeffrey Kluger, talked about when people are hit with an emergency, like during September 11, 2001, they are struck with panic and are confused on what they should do. The text states, “The people who stayed behind in both towers on September 11, 2001-or waited too long before trying to leave-bore no responsibility for what happened to them that morning. They were, instead, twice victimized-once by the men who hijacked the planes and took so many lives; and once by the impossibly complex interplay of luck, guesswork, psychology, architecture, and more that is at play in any such mass movement of people. Fear plays a role, so does bravado, so does desperation” (Kluger 129). The people inside the twin tower panic because they don’t know what to do. They look to others for
Finally, on that rainy April morning, we made our way down to Ground Zero. As we entered the church, the smell of stale books and soggy clothing filled our noses. It was that smell of just coming out of a fresh rain, wet hair and wet faces surrounded us. Booths displaying medical stations, sleeping areas, and food stations were set up. They were frozen statues, the ghosts of the events that took place on September 11th and the weeks after. We shuffled through the pews and lined ourselves up at the front of the church.
Since “Hotel California” debuted in the seventies, one can understand why the topic would be Californian drug-using lifestyle. “The scare tactics of the 1960s gave way to the contradictory messages of the late '70s and early '80s. Drugs became glamorous, without becoming better understood” (Robison). The seventies were also a time in which The Eagles themselves could have been feeling some of the same feelings as the speaker in the song. By the time this song debut, the Eagles had lived the “Rock and Roll lifestyle” long enough to know the benefits and drawbacks of drugs and alcohol. Additionally, California was one of the high-life capitols of the United States at that time and still is today.
California, what makes this state so wonderful? Well if you were to ask any one east from it they might say it’s a party state filled with surfers and celebrities; where no is poor and everyone drinks wine. However, if you were to pick up Mark Arax’s book West of the West you would find the contrary. Arax goes beyond the clichés that California is known for and shows you, well, what is beyond just the west. Showing the true nature of California and its people, if you are one to think that California is a happy go’ lucky state then this would be the book to read to see the real California.
“Las Vegas looks the way you'd imagine heaven must look at night” states New York Times best selling novelist, Chuck Palahniuk. (1) He has a point. Las Vegas is, in a way, an American Mecca -- a national tourist hotspot filled with resorts, gambling, shopping, dining, drinking, sporting, nightlife and most other things entertainment. Las Vegas is the fastest growing city and fastest growing job market in the United States. (source?) The city, a sort of massive adult carnival, is made up of elements largely alien to its native desert setting. For one, Vegas welcomes almost 40 million visitors per year, a number nearly seventy times the population of the city; but also its drinking water and food are largely imported and a series of hotels are modeled after famous cities, buildings and monuments from around the world. (2) While Vegas is a melting pot of different forms of entertainment, food and clothing, gambling has been inherently a part of Vegas before the brightly lit signs and extravagant resorts existed. The gaming industry in Las Vegas, which dates back to the days before the city was officially founded, is much more than just a piece of “Sin City’s” multi-faceted entertainment front: the industry has rescued and sustained its city’s economy, and continues to foster its fiscal growth and urban expansion – gambling has been an essential part of Vegas’ success.
As I walked down the sidewalk, my nose picked up the salty scent of the sea breeze. I looked ahead and saw the gleaming beach in the far distance. Before me, the tranquil city along with the endless blue sea sandwiched the golden beach that stretched across for miles. Then my eyes were grasped by the incredible beauty of the city skyscrapers that stood hundreds of meters tall, and they probably had also captured the sight of many other tourists. Some people were jogging and others were bike riding Just as the yellow sun rises from behind the buildings. It’s easy for many people t...