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Slowly it comes to me, a flowering bud of youth in a sea of age. A bright light shining out on an eternal, melancholy nothingness. So after an age of undulating meditation, I awoke.I was in a study, whether it was my study or even if I had a study, I did not know; it was if I was a lobster in a pot :my stupid entrance was easy, my escape could be easy; yet it was impossible for me to grasp how to do any of these tasks.I picked up a book from the shelf and as I flicked through the pages, I gasped in horror as my brain couldn’t make any sense of my own tongue. It just screamed at me instead, cursing my every open and close of my eyelid. Strangely, I cried out in mind numbing mental pain, and my shout echoing in every corridor of this citadel of memory loss. …show more content…
Suddenly, all the doors on every house opened, and even more suprising than that; the same man came out of every single house. I stepped back in horror and shock, but found my feet wouldn’t let me. My whole body was rooted to the ground!He (or they if you want) looked as old as time yet as youthal as a child, his wispy white hair looked like he had been electrocuted and upon it he wore a wide, purple fez decorated with stars. His (their) wrinkled faces stared down at me yet looked somehow younger than mine, his (their) purple silk gown hung about him (them) and he (they) wore velvet winklepickers which looked so luxurious; they could of belonged to the sultan himself. “Come in” they shouted in perfect unison. “Which house” I shouted back, my voice sounded uneasy, “ my one” they replied. That faced me with a problem, i was being told by at least 300 old men in rich clothes to come into their houses ,and when asked which one, they all said me; not a problem you are faced with everyday. Slowly, I walked up the street, eyeing every person, making sure they were completely the
I thought it would be a good idea to revisit the training styles of my first interview with general manager Terrel from West Virginia 's Red Lobster. We began the interview with the recap of our first interview, which mainly focused on the training and development of future managers of Red Lobster restaurants. For this interview, I wanted to focus on the entire training process from a new employee to the general manager position.
Jan de Heem painting, “Still Life with Lobster” is an oil painting with a bright red lobster that catches the viewer gaze into this beautiful dinner from the late 1640s.The color scheme used in this painting is analogous since it uses relatively close hues. In the painting, the lobster is on a silver platter but it has been left untouched. Surrounding the focal point of the painting is luxurious fruits including grapes, cherries, peaches, berries, oranges, and a half peeled lemon. To the left of the lobster is an overturned silver goblet. This particular style of painting is known as a vanitas form of painting. The artist is using a luxurious left over meal to show even the most expensive desires of the world doesn’t last for eternity. The
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
When do natural products become a delicacy? They become a delicacy when they become harder to find in their natural setting. This is what happened to the lobster and how the demands of the consumers changed. During Colonial times, the status of lobster was much different than today. It was once considered a poor man’s food. Now, it is considered a delicacy and found in many fancy dishes and at most higher priced restaurants. Today, lobster prices are high. If you want to eat a good lobster, you have to pay a decent price for it. The change in status of lobster occurred when the supply of lobster started to become depleted. As the sources of lobster were being depleted the demand increased in wealthier markets. This occurred because wealthier people could afford the higher prices created by a shrinking supply. The supply of the lobster population is what influenced the changing demands of the consumers.
"Consider the Lobster" an issue of Gourmet magazine, this reviews the 2003 Maine Lobster Festival. The essay is concerned with the ethics of boiling a creature alive in order to enhance the consumer's pleasure. The author David Foster Wallace of "Consider the Lobster” was an award-winning American novelist. Wallace wrote "Consider the Lobster” but not for the intended audience of gourmet readers .The purpose of the article to informal reader of the good thing Maine Lobster Festival had to offer. However, he turn it into question moral aspects of boiling lobsters.
Recalling the similarities and differences of the house and occupants from the present to the past 1) the general structure of the house. 2) The fact that the stranger had a mother, a father, and a sister, and 3) where the strangers father and the current father sat for dinner. Out of all the differences brought up, the appearance of the house from the strangers memory seems to be the most noteworthy. For example the stranger stated “dark by day, dark by night” (Oates 327) probably due to the gloomy circumstances of his childhood. The stranger soon becomes distressed and agitated in the house which we find out is due to his fathers abusive nature. One moment in particular when memories started rushing in was when he looked at the window seat. The stranger describes the memory of his mother asking him riddles such as “ ‘What is round, and flat, measuring mere inches in one direction, and infinity in the other?’ ‘Out of what does our life arise? Out of what does our consciousness arise? Why are we here? Where is here?’” (Oates 328). These questions just like the act of violence and abuse don’t have a definitive answer but they go on and on until the answer to the question eventually become the question itself. The stranger goes on with his tour and continues upstairs and its noted that the son and the stranger had the same bedroom. The mother and father ask if the stranger wants to see their room but the stranger
All spring and summer the townsfolk spoke about the three bodies that had been found, mangled and slashed. Now, had the three men headed the warning and stayed away from the old man’s house they would still be alive. Instead they were tempted by the greed in their hearts for the money the terrible old man was said to have possession of. This drove them to enter through his gate and knock on the door. They believed that because he was an old man, he would be feeble and week, making him an easy target for
so something can be done about it. These people are usually the only enforcement that goes to
Food tourism is a growing industry that involves tourists going to new places to eat, drink, and experience the local flavor. David Foster Wallace’s essay Consider the Lobster is a commentary on American food tourism.
It may start with one simple spark in the darkest of times. When the walls of the world seem as though they are squeezing the life out of you, and you're trapped under the demands and desires of an overwhelming society; when you feel so broken inside, your identity is almost unrecognizable. When this pain feels as if it is too much to bear, it may be that one spark that suddenly lights your world anew and in some cases changes your life forever. I read it over the long hours of one night, unable to put it down, until suddenly the light of the sunrise penetrated my blinds. As I closed the book with a satisfied smile, tears streamed down my face until the title of the book became one big blur.
Description of the house follows, very high ceilings, old mansion it seems, with chimney stains, it has been let go. Jumps in time to narrators ex-husband making fun of narrators fantasizing about stains. The next paragraph is the father in a retirement home, always referring to things: ‘The Lord never intended’. This shows how old people have disdain for new things, the next generation appears to be more and more sacreligious. Shows streak of meanness when ‘spits’ out a reference to constant praying, narrator claims he does not know who he is talking to, but appears to be the very pious mother.
The editors of Gourmet Magazine were able to reel in the much sought after author David Foster Wallace to chronicle the events of the Maine Lobster Festival. The editors were expecting an essay about the summer festival that would provoke mouthwatering reactions from the readers of the magazine. Instead, Wallace saturates his essay with sarcasm while, to please his editors, still being able to build a shell around a subliminally satirical message. While using a sarcastic and satirical tone, David Foster Wallace is able to construct on argument that America is ignoring morals as they dine.
Once upon a time (chuckles), there were two brothers. These two brothers loved to play outdoors and one day, as it was getting on into evening, they wandered into a graveyard and met another little boy who wanted to play with them. So, they played with the boy for a while and eventually the little boy asked if the brothers would like to [see] the castle. The brothers agreed to go along and off they went following behind the little boy. The boy took them to a castle in the middle of the graveyard and took them inside to a room with big mirror on one wall. (In a really weak and timid voice:) “Follow me,” said the boy. “Let me show you where I live.” (Begins speaking more intensely:) At that, he stepped through the mirror and into the castle on the other side and disappeared around a corner. The two brothers shared a concerned look, but in the end stepped into the mirror and came out the other side. Whereas the castle they had been brought to at first seemed abandoned for centuries, this castle felt and looked as though it were currently inhabited. (Speaking with a sense of awe or wonderment:) They wandered out of the bedroom and after a time found them selves in a dinning room with a table set for many people and food laid out like a feast. At that table sat a number of ornately dressed adults. Some in very fine robes or very flashy dresses, all enjoying the feast and each others' company. (Changes to a concerned or anxious tone:) The brothers tried to ask the person nearest them what the occasion of the feast was , but the person utterly ignored [them]. In fact, when one of the brothers tried to tug at the adult’s sleeve he found that his hand went straight through it.
I wearily drag myself away from the silken violet comforter and slump out into the living room. The green and red print of our family’s southwestern style couch streaks boldly against the deep blues of the opposing sitting chairs, calling me to it. Of course I oblige the billowy haven, roughly plopping down and curling into the cushions, ignoring the faint smell of smoke that clings to the fabric. My focus fades in and out for a while, allowing my mind to relax and unwind from any treacherous dreams of the pervious night, until I hear the telltale creak of door hinges. My eyes flutter lightly open to see my Father dressed in smart brown slacks and a deep earthy t-shirt, his graying hair and beard neatly comber into order. He places his appointment book and hair products in a bag near the door signaling the rapid approaching time of departure. Soon he is parading out the door with ever-fading whispers of ‘I love you kid,’ and ‘be good.’
...ed eyes, vision growing fainter, body becoming paralyzed, and the hum of the hospital machines muting to a dull throb. And slowly I rise, rise into the escape of pure bliss.