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bebebeaulieu

Rikki-tikki-tavi - 72 views

  • Rudyard Kipling
    • bebebeaulieu
       
      Author of the story
  •  
    The classic story from the Jungle Books by Rudyard Kipling.
Susan Dineen

New Forms, but People Will Always Read - Room for Debate - NYTimes.com - 3 views

  • Fiction brings us the news of ourselves, as literature always has and always will. That’s “entertainment,” in its deepest and most satisfying form. That’s pleasure, meaning, passion, glimpses of profoundest truth, the salvation of art. “The Jungle” may have sparked reform, but I daresay “Mrs. Dalloway” has changed more people’s lives.
  • But as long as people use language, tell stories and want to know about themselves, they will read fiction. The novel is a sturdy old contraption that continues to outlive its mourners.
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    This entire Room for Debate is worth reading.   Would be worthwhile to check out at the beginning of the year.
fergtoo

the Truth About Being a Hero - WSJ - 14 views

  • We all want to be special, to stand out; there's nothing wrong with this. The irony is that every human being is special to start with, because we're unique to start with.
  • n the military I could exercise the power of being automatically respected because of the medals on my chest, not because I had done anything right at the moment to earn that respect.
  • I knew many Marines had done brave deeds that no one saw and for which they got no medals at all.
  • ...20 more annotations...
  • "A lot of people have done a lot more and gotten a lot less, and a lot of people have done a lot less and gotten a lot more."
  • I got my medals, in part, because I did brave acts, but also, in part, because the kids liked me and they spent time writing better eyewitness accounts than they would have written if they hadn't liked me
  • The only people who will ever know the value of the ribbons on their chests are the people wearing them—and even they can fool themselves, in both directions.
  • he whole assault ground to a halt, except for one kid named Niemi, who had sprinted forward when we came under the intense fire and disappeared up in front of us somewhere.
  • alking to a group of us about when it was a platoon leader earned his pay. I knew, floating above that mess, that now that time had come. If I didn't get up and lead, we'd get wiped.
  • I'm most proud of is that I simply stood up, in the middle of all that flying metal, and started up the hill all by myself.
  • I did it for the right reasons.
  • At this point I saw the missing kid, Niemi, pop his head up. He sprinted across the open top of the hill, all alone.
  • He was a black kid, all tangled up in black-power politics, almost always angry and sullen. A troublemaker. Yet here he was, most of his body naked with only flapping rags left of his jungle utilities, begging for a rifle when he had a perfect excuse to just bury his head in the clay and quit. I gave him mine. I still had a pistol. He grabbed the rifle, stood up to his full height, fully exposing himself to all the fire, and simply blasted an entire magazine at the two soldiers in front of us, killing both of them. He then went charging into the fight, leaving me stunned for a moment. Why? Who was he doing this for? What is this thing in young men? We were beyond ourselves, beyond politics, beyond good and evil. This was transcendence.
  • Crashing out of the clouds into this confusion came a flaming, smoking twin-rotor CH-46 helicopter.
  • I saw Niemi pop into sight again. He sprinted to the downed chopper.
  • the only thing he could think to do was sprint across the open hilltop to see if he could find a place from which he could lay down fire to protect them.
  • Niemi got a Navy Cross.
  • I got a Navy Cross.
  • elicopter pilot
  • ont-page story
  • The kid who borrowed my rifle didn't get anyt
  • hing.
  • It was just about that time I got knocked out and blinded by a hand grenade. I came to, groggy.
  • hen a kid I knew from Second Platoon, mainly because of his bad reputation, threw himself down beside me, half his clothes blown away. He was begging people for a rifle. His had been blown out of his hands.
Lauren Mitchell

Thoreau's Walking - 2 - 0 views

  • "A white man bathing by the side of a Tahitian was like a plant bleached by the gardener's art compared with a fine, dark green one growing vigorously in the open fields."
    • Lauren Mitchell
       
      Do you think Thoreau would get one of those spray tans?
  • Life consists with Wildness. The most alive is the wildest. Not yet subdued to man, its presence refreshes him.
  • Hope and the future for me are not in lawns and cultivated fields, not in towns and cities, but in the impervious and quaking swamps.
  • ...7 more annotations...
  • omitting other flower plots and borders, transplanted spruce and trim box, even gravelled walks
  • In Literature, it is only the wild that attracts us. Dullness is but another name for tameness. It is the uncivilized free and wild thinking in Hamlet and the Iliad, in all the scriptures and mythologies, not learned in the Schools, that delights us. As the wild duck is more swift and beautiful than the tame, so is the wild-the mallard-thought, which, 'mid falling dews wings its way above the fens. A truly good book is something as natural, and as unexpectedly and unaccountably fair and perfect, as a wild flower discovered on the prairies of the west, or in the jungles of the east.
  • I confess that I am partial to these wild fancies, which transcend the order of time and development. They are the sublimest recreation of the intellect.
  • all good things are wild and free
  • The seeds of instinct are preserved under the thick hides of cattle and horses, like seeds in the bowels of the earth, an indefinite period.
  • I rejoice that horses and steers have to be broken before they can be made the slaves of men, and that men themselves have some wild oats still left to sow before they become submissive members of society.
  • strange and whimsical as it may seem, that I finally and inevitably settle south-west, toward some particular wood or meadow or deserted pasture or hill in that direction. My needle is slow to settle — varies a few degrees, and does not always point due south-west, it is true, and it has good authority for this variation, but it always settles between west and south-south-west. The future lies that way to me, and the earth seems more unexhausted and richer on that side. The outline which would bound my walks, would  be, not a circle, but a
Martin Burrett

Chart Jungle - Behaviour Management Printables - 129 views

  •  
    A superb site to download behaviour charts, stickers, pictures and lots more to keep your class motivated. http://ictmagic.wikispaces.com/Classroom+Management+%26+Rewards
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