<p>This post is being started at the suggestion of eirean, who wanted to have an essay sharing post.. I also thought it a good idea</p>
<p>Now that everything is done.. who thinks they had the most creative/best idea for their essay?</p>
<p>Feel free to post anything related to any of the essays for uchicago.</p>
<p>I thought I wrote a good essay....reaction here was pretty mixed though :(.</p>
<p>i thought it was okay, everyone on CC said it was, "original and creative" and that they liked it. but some people thought the conclusion was weak, others thought it was fine but the middle paragraphs could be stronger, others told me it was wonderful and that i should be fine even though i did the "choose your own topic" topic. so i guess in the end, all i have to say is SCREW YOU SAT2 WRITING! TAKE YOUR 680 AND SHOVE IT, or something to that extent.</p>
<p>that was about my essay, btw.</p>
<p>I'll post mine...I'm so desperate for quality feedback, even though none of that should matter anymore. This is one of two that I sent. I took a pretty big risk with this one...</p>
<p>Whenever I need to write an essay, paper, whateverI go to the voices in my head for help.</p>
<p>Prometheus: This question attempts for quirkiness and originality, but it really comes off as odd...and ineffective: how will an essay on super-huge mustard get adcoms to know ** better?
Bob: I think its cool, and, after all, its up to us to decide how the answerin whatever form we choosewill reflect <strong>s personality, passions, goals, etc to the admissions officers. These questions may be applicant-friendly in the way they reflect a desire to let the applicant express his/herself as creatively or analytically as possible, but the answers arent meant to come out easily.
Prometheus: Meh. Whatever you say doesnt change the fact that, at its core, this whole process is political. How can ** truly express himself to these people if hes trying to sell himself to them? Its like competing to be the best academic prostitute.
Bob: Wow, youre crude. How about, instead of ranting, we stir up our neurons and get to work on this?
Prometheus: Fine. People buy mustard in bulk, because they need it in bulk. There. I bet they dont get too many one-liners. ** is sure to stand out if he uses that.
Bob: But why would they need it in bulk? Could they be mustard masons about to build a mustard cathedral in Dijon? Or maybe the french are buying it so as to make the worlds largest biftek sauce moutarde.
Prometheus: Or maybe youre delusional because the French dont derive entertainment from abnormally large random objects. How many signs displaying 2 kilometers to the worlds ball of twine have you seen on the road to Paris?
Bob: Well, none, but were usually zoning out to Queen songs on the road to Paris.
Prometheus: Whatever. I guarantee that you wont find any there.
Bob: Ok, but then why are there large balls of twine residing in the U.S?
Prometheus: I dont know, Socrates. Why dont you try answering this question for a change?
Bob: Well I cant exactly speak for all those involved with giant ball of twine constructions
Prometheus:I meant the original question.
Bob: I think theyre one and the same.
Prometheus: Fine. ** is so going to get rejected.
Bob: Anyway, I personally wouldnt mind seeing a giant ball of twine, or even owning a gallon-sized jar of mustard, at that. I think that, in this country, weve internalized the idea that bigness=greatness, or that bigness=power. We learn from an early age that America has the biggest military, the biggest economy, etc...When you couple this with the idea that America is the greatest or, according to all those unipolarist political scientists out there, the most powerful country in the world, well, you can imagine why there might be a psychological association of bigness and greatness among the people in the U.S.
Prometheus: I dont think so. I have a hard time believing that people buy giant mustard jars at Costco because of a weird and unlikely psychological connection á la Pavlov. People buy in bulk a.) because, for some reason or another, they need to or b.) because they have a skewed conception of the value of what they are buying.
Bob: Explain b..
Prometheus: Heres an example: remember when ** bought that ½ gallon of turtle sundae ice cream all for himself? ** obviously put no thought into that purchase. He saw the ice cream, thought mmm, pralines and took it. Had he paused instead of immediately following his impulse, he would have realized that there was no need to buy so much ice cream. Pralines arent that good after the 20th scoop. Economists call that notion diminishing marginal utility and it should be common sense to any consumer. But ** didnt see an overabundance of ice cream, he saw enough ice cream to satisfy him. Furthermore, ** may have been attracted to the idea of having more than he could possibly eat in one sitting; he knew the exorbitant amount would definitely satisfy him and that he would also have a good deal of ice cream left over. For a relatively small price, ** would become rich in ice cream. Its a natural instinct of humansor maybe just chauvinistic male pigs, depending on who youre talking toto enjoy possessing things, especially in bulk.
Bob: So you think theres inherent pleasure to possessing? OK...But how is that principally due to having a skewed notion of the value of things?
Prometheus: Because ** didnt value the ice cream as much as he valued the idea of having more than enough ice cream. Thats why he bought so much. I thought that was pretty self-explanatory.
Bob: No need for condescending rudeness...anyway, your theory doesnt explain why some people are impressed with largeness in general.
Prometheus: Bigness is impressive. Thats all there is too it. For lack of better monuments, Americans, or, more typically, rurally located Americans, construct these landmarks whose only impressive features are their sizes. Its probably the only downside to there never having been an absolute monarch presiding over the country. The most powerful rulers in history always left some nice architectural treasures behind. This also explains why some towns go to, in my opinion, depressing lengths to dress up their water towers.
Bob: You seem to have no problem making gross generalizations.
Prometheus: Well the question is kind of sociological isnt it? I think its alright if our answer is based on some generalization.
Bob: We should at least compensate with an additional theory. I still want to follow up on my previous idea that Americans are impressed by bigness because of their culture. Like, do our identities as people living in a hegemonic country make us strive to reflect power through size?
Prometheus: Um, why dont we take a step back before we delve into this additional theory. We never even asked ourselves if Americans actually are impressed by large things.
Bob: Well theres plenty of evidence suggesting that many Americans are attracted to largeness. The successes of SUVs, pick-up trucks, wholesale retailers, and super-sized fast-food in America should be clear signs that American consumers value bigness in products.
Prometheus: And those large products came to be because there was a demand for them. America has, for quite a while, had one of the largest population growth rates among developed nations. The average American family has a lifestyle which is greatly facilitated by large products. Parents enjoy the space and security that SUVs provide for them, their children, their childrens friends, their childrens friends parents, etc...Corporations realized that large goods could be convenient to many of their customers. Later, they may have also realized that people liked buying in bulk that, when neither inconvenience nor polluting concerns stood in the way, consumers enjoyed having products in large quantities or sizes. For example, not many people can actually drink a super-sized cup of coke at McDonalds in one sitting, and yet many people order these enormous things. They enjoy merely having a large amount of cola at their disposition. That principle ties in to what I said earlier about the satisfaction people get out of possessing. Id like to take it further and suggest that enjoyment derived from possession is a component of human nature.
Bob: That doesnt sound healthy, but it makes sense. And I still think that, to a certain extent, what I said about Americas status in the world still applies.<br>
Prometheus: You just keep sticking to this vague
Bob: Let me finish. Were it not for the Americas position as the closest thing the world has to a boss, I dont think Americans buy so compulsively. I think that if we internalized a little humility into our culture, we would be more aware of the nature of our purchases and be wiser consumers.
Prometheus: Maybe wed be wiser, but wed also be poorer. I think that oftentimes its consumer idiocy that helps drive the economy upwards.
Bob: Its cynical, but probably true.
Prometheus: Yup.
Bob: Well, I think were done here...</strong> can probably start writing his essay now.
Prometheus: Yeah. Why do you suppose hes smirking?
Bob: Because hes a plagiarizing scumbag...It looks like hes just going to send in our conversation.
Prometheus: Technically, thats not plagiarizing. We are kind of a part of his mind..
Bob: I think therefore
Prometheus: ...you arent, because ** imagined you. Its ** whos thinking here, not you.
Bob: There goes any self-esteem I had.
Prometheus: Its not so bad, at least you dont have to get your wisdom teeth pulled out.
Bob: My God, youre right. ** is getting that done soon...ish. And he deserves it for plagiarizing from an imaginary voice.
Prometheus: Im not going to respond to your weirdness anymore.
**: Since youve stopped being helpful, Im going to imagine that youre mouths have been covered with duct tape...And because youve bothered me, Im also going to give you new names based on the dark side of American pop-culture to destroy your dignities.
Dharma: Mmph<br>
Greg: Rrmmph</p>
<p>I like your essay. One thing though: "America has the biggest military"= not true. America has the most powerful military, not the largest. China has a 3 million standing army, even though I think it is 2.5 million now.</p>
<p>I really shouldn't post my essay but here it is anyways. Reading my essay again, I think I could change the structure to make it better. Too late now. </p>
<p>I have successfully distinguished my head from my Gluteus Maximus! Now that I have your attention, I hope, lets talk about the huge jar of mustard. I happen to like mustard, and I know it is difficult to resist things that you like. However, from my own experiences, I attest that surrendering oneself to materialistic goods often leads to spiritual voids. The "Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility" states that for any good or service, the additional satisfaction or benefit (utility) of that good or service decreases as the quantity consumed increases. Indulging in anything materialistic will likely turn our fondness into addiction and inflate the cost of our happiness. Life, like an accounting balance sheet, must always end up balanced. To indulge or not to indulge, that is the question I had struggled with. </p>
<pre><code>One of the many reasons why I respect my parents so much is because they are demigods when it comes to being responsibly thrifty. After coming to America, I cannot think of one instance where my parents had indulged in anything materialistic. They lived an ascetic life. My parents never went to a restaurant for their own sake, consumed no alcohol, and did not buy new shoes until the old pair was hopelessly worn-out; this is how they managed to save forty percent of their income. Instead, my parents indulged in hard work, toiling in a factory, and in the fruits that their hard work had nourished: sending two children through college and the third, me, on the way to the University of Chicago (I am optimistic).
In retrospect, to what seems eons ago before my sophomore year, I was quite the Gluteus Maximus and did not embrace the virtues of my parents. I was selfish about my own desires and would squander my parents sweat and blood stained money on things I did not need. I bickered about how other children had more than I did even though the stimulations that came from possessing material goods were only immediate and transient. As an immature boy, I fanatically trained to be the worlds greatest fighter and planned to go to Thailand to join a Mauy Thai (kickboxing) training camp. I also planned to be the king of the world somehow. Besides being lost in imagination, I hung out with friends daily, and even though I was always a thinking person, I neglected homework and did poorly in school as a result. I clearly lacked good judgment in answering the to indulge or not to indulge question.
The summer before my sophomore year, I thought working at a factory would be quite an adventure so I pestered my parents until they agreed that I could come and help since my parents were doing piece work, their manager did not mind me being there. It goes without saying that I was wrong in my expectation. The work was physically demanding, repetitive, boring, and messy. Soon, I wanted to quit, and I said to my father, This is hell! This place smells like sulfur and is just as hot! He replied, Son, your mother and I work here everyday. I opened my mouth but uttered no words. When I looked up again, I saw my aging parents, who had good jobs in China, now doing the most labor intensive work. All of a sudden, I realized how much sacrifice my parents had made to provide their children the opportunity for a better life. I clenched my teeth and went on with work. My experience that summer had taught me much about responsibilities and purpose in life. It had made clear to me that I take charge of my own destiny. The realization created a spark in the dark night that became a conflagration; in my life there was darkness no more. After that summer, I had a different paradigm and had completely changed the way I answered to indulge or not to indulge. Every time I had the urge to have something that I did not need, I thought of the sweat and dust on my parents faces and my heart winced a little. And for the same reasons, I worked hard and excelled in my academic endeavors.
</code></pre>
<p>The "Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility" proves to be quite true. As I suppress impulses to buy, the things I already have become dearer. As I eat out less, eating out becomes an experience in itself. As I hang out less with friends, gatherings become more meaningful. On the other hand, as I let my mind indulge in acquiring knowledge and wisdom, my mind gets more and more hungry. Every new achievement instantly becomes a new standard, and I expect nothing less than the emulation of my best performances. I am glad that I have distinguished my head from my Gluteus Maximus and found the right mix in my balance sheet of life by successfully answering to indulge or not to indulge.</p>
<p>i posted mine under a new topic.. check it out and tell me what u think.. (Topic: my very creative essay)</p>
<p>Okay...since this was my idea...this is question #2</p>
<p>When I listen to myself speak for the first time, it shocks me. I have heard my voice before, inadvertently finding an answering machine message left by myself or making tapes of myself speaking Spanish as an oral assignment, but I have never listened to my voice. There is a difference. To hear is not necessarily voluntary, while to listen implies a distinct effort, silencing breathing and leaning forward in order to hear the source. But this is not an essay about hearing and listening; this is an essay about talking.<br>
I am lying on my bed, and there is a small micro-cassette recorder next to me and a notebook in front of me. I am listening to the recorder, trying to learn details about my voice and how I talk and how I should talk differently.
Words have always interested me, and I love to read. Often I will read a word and add it to my vocabulary, only to be laughed at for mispronunciation the first time I use it. Perhaps because of this, I have become rather guarded about whom I will talk freely in front of, and have grown to dread public speaking.
Then, when I was fifteen, I started rowing.
What does rowing have to do with anything about talking? Rowing is the ultimate zen sport, the embodiment of silent, smooth rhythm, eyes focused only in front. In a sprint race, rowers arent even able to talk. Maintaining an anaerobic threshold for seven and a half minutes will take away the will to speak from even the most stubborn and exuberant chatterbox. I loved rowing. I loved being on the water, despite 5 a.m. workouts in the freezing rain. From my first time in a boat, I fell absolutely and inexplicably in love with the sport of crew.<br>
However, after my novice year ended, I learned a sad reality about rowing. Rowers are generally very tall and lean, allowing them to reach further with their oars. They have good aerobic ability and are usually good runners.
I grew to my full height of five feet one inch when I was eleven. Im a bad runner because Im asthmatic and more suited to anaerobic exercise. I have developed a lot of bulky muscle from doing martial arts. Suddenly I was no longer in the no cuts novice boat and we had twice as many rowers as there were seats for. The other girls seemed like they were twice my height. I decided that if I wanted to keep doing this sport, I had to become a coxswain.
On a crew team, the coxswain is the one who steers and maneuvers the boat and holds full command over it, including telling all of the rowers what to do. During practice, it is the coxswains job to look for problems and correct them, ordering eight other people around. During a race, she must convince all of the rowers to forget about the excruciating pain that they are feeling and to continue to sit up straight, maintain good technique, and pull hard, even if they dont remember why they are doing it. I have read that oxygen deprivation reduces a rowers mental state to that of an eight-year-old during a two thousand meter race. A coxswain must be prepared for rowers to scream back at her, venting their frustration, or to be the one that takes the blame when things go wrong. I knew most of this, and I was terrified, but the alternative was not doing crew at all, which was unacceptable to me, and I realized that I couldnt hide behind a fear of public speaking forever.
I resolved that I would work as hard as I could, whatever that meant in relation to coxing. I read all the coxing and crew literature that I could get my hands on until I felt almost intimately familiar with crew legends like Harvard coach Harry Parker and Olympic rower Carie Graves. When the ice on our lake finally melted, I felt over prepared but then I learned a frightening truth: being in charge of eight teenage girls is something that nobody can ever be fully prepared for. It was then also that I realized the full extent of my terror of public speaking I had to hook a microphone to my head that was connected via wires to speakers throughout the boat. I decided that I needed to do more to prepare and improve. I bought a micro-cassette recorder.
I carefully hooked the recorder up to the speaker system and tucked it into my sweatshirt pocket two layers under my gore-tex. I led the practice as I usually did but the recorder ran the whole time, and when I got home I was resolved to listen to the tape.
Now I am trying to listen. The house is empty and silent except for the dogs occasional barking at squirrels out the window. Finally, my voice cuts in through the static. All eight, at the catch, ready-all, row! I immediately decide that I need to control my voice more. I can tell from listening to the tape when I was nervous or worried or something was going wrong. At one point in the race, the rudder was not responding to my steering and from listening to the tape, I can tell exactly where it is because my voice gets slightly higher and I am saying less. I hear an almost imperceptible nervous stutter as I try to fill the empty space that is silence, my words giving way to my terror of veering off-course. I hurriedly write down everything that I find that I need to fix.
Power ten, in two, thats one and two, I say somewhere around the twelve hundred meter mark of the two thousand meter racecourse. A power ten is ten of the hardest strokes a rower can take, usually implemented when its time to make a move. One, driving with legs
two
three, slow the slide
four, were catching them
five
six, give this everything
seven, quick finishes
eight, posture
nine, accelerate
ten, lets keep the rating up
Ive got one seat on them
theyre gonna try to make their move now and we are not going to let them. Listening, I decide that I dont sound original enough and briefly debate the relative merits of doing a power ten in Korean. I learned to count to ten in Korean when I started Tang Soo Do, a form of karate, in sixth grade. I know the Korean numbers, hana through yol, backwards and forwards and use them to count jumping jacks, crunches, and push-ups when I warm-up in class twice a week. I discard the idea, realizing that rowers need to know how many strokes are left, and counting in Korean probably wouldnt fly with most of them. Spanish? Probably more people know Spanish, but
no
better idea to avoid the foreign languages.
Slow recoveries, ladies, think Russian novels. I had liked that call. In essence, the recovery portion of the stroke must be as slow as possible because a rower is moving towards the back of the boat. Slamming the body mass of eight muscular people towards the back of the boat is a pretty quick way to stop the forward movement. Unfortunately, there always seems to be a certain inclination to rush recoveries, and I get quite creative with ways to stop the rush. However, the Russian-novels analogy had been completely lost on the rowers, none of whom had read or even seemed to have heard of Crime and Punishment or Anna Karenina.<br>
I decide to stop trying to find things to say in the books that are my world and just get my ideas from interactions with the rowers. We could build a connection between us and out of that fragile bridge I would spin magic words to spur the rowers on and we would win. Enough writing this is not its place. I close the notebook, realizing that I cant get to know my teammates better outside of practice, and pull out the book I am currently reading. I am soon lost to the external world, curled up on my bed and returned to the safe and known world of words.</p>
<p>I liked this essay. It's got a nice combination of quirkiness and depth. Kudos to you for the character you displayed that summer at the factory. Only things I had a problem with were the grabber and the intro paragraph.</p>
<p>P.S. Ouch on the army blunder. When I assume I make an ass out of you and me...or just me. Anyway, I think I really meant to say biggest global military presence or something along those lines. In any case, that would've also been an assumption.</p>
<p>that was in response to j10cpc5000's essay</p>
<p>O fair God! Tis thee that hath charged us with the peculiarities of the tongue! To the Greeks, thou hath given the ancient words of Homer; to the Romans, the playful adornments of Ovid. Come hither, ye English, and revel in our development of languagefor by heavens time it will be too late, and all men will speak as one.</p>
<p>The Bard I am not. Clearly, I have yet to master the ins and outs of the iambic pentameter. Nor do I possess the poignant qualities of a poet, instead being forced to melt my girlfriends heart with a steady stream of gifts rather than heartstring-pulling sonnets.</p>
<p>However, what I lack in rhythm and emotive guile I make up for with a rather innovative vocabulary. Ive always been fond of combining wordsfrom the aforementioned heartstring-pulling to grandiloquent, (a combination of grandiose and eloquent) I always manage to invent the perfect word if the thesaurus is not sufficient (aside from which, thesaurusesor is it thesauri?are too uncomfortable and a little disconcerting to others for me to keep in my breastpocket). Obviously, I need to go outside more.</p>
<p>My friends tell me that my vocabulary is a wide and esoteric one. Other people possess lexicons shaped by sports, philosophy, medicine and even fashion. Our passions, interests, and knowledgeessentially our innermost selvesare defined by the words we choose, from the colloquial to the technical. Venturing out into different phraseology is like putting on a costumeyou change who you are with the words you use and connotations you attach to them. Which is why I always find it fun to talk like a rapper at timesWhat izzle uphizzle G-unit? Ill say to my friends. They find it funny because it is unlike me to use those words, just as I find it amusing when some of my less intellectually-esteemed peers say to me, Greetings and salutations! </p>
<p>Its not just my vocabulary that differentiates me. There are subtle cadences to my speech as wellmost of the time, Im talking too fast for my own good and end up contracting words or melding one suffix into the next words prefix. For example: Its prolly nodda gudidea to typapers like this (translation: Its probably not a good idea to type papers like this). Evidently, it loses some of its humour and playfulness on paper, as speech is always more dynamic than prose. Some may call it mumbling and poor enunciating (I pronounce tt like di.e. button becomes budden)I say it simply allows me to pack the maximum amount of information into the smallest breath possible. And when I just cannot think of anything to say, I put together long strings of Whatchamacallit you know </p>
<p>Language is the fingerprint of the mind, revealing the true nature of individuals. The village idiot could conceal himself as an intellectual by donning a lab coat, thick-rimmed glasses, and by sticking a calculator in his pocketbut as soon as he opens his mouth, hell be exposed. In the same way, anyone listening to me speak with a friend will be able to figure me out: I like to read (a lot), I watch an obscene amount of Jeopardy! and Im messy and absent-minded. If you want to find out the truth about someone, dont analyze their ideas, as those can be fakedanalyze the words and how they are said, be it fast, slow, prosaic or florid. Because while people can tell lies, people never lie.</p>
<p>"If you want to find out the truth about someone, dont analyze their ideas, as those can be faked..."</p>
<p>I already read your essay a while ago and I liked it. However, I couldn't disagree more with what I quoted from your essay. Your conclusion, to me at least, doesn't make sense at all. Feel free, anybody, to disagree with me.</p>
<p>Why do people purchase ridiculous quantities of mustard? It's hardly the type of philosophical quandary that the likes of Immanuel Kant and Aristotle would have scratched their heads over, but maybe they should have. At first, buying mustard seems little more than a mechanical action taken out of knowledge that sooner or later we will want a hot dog, and when that craving comes, we will need mustard. Buying absurd amounts of mustard then, is a logical extension, as it seems to guarantee that we can use all the mustard we would like, and still have some left for next time. </p>
<p>However, I don't think mere convenience explains this tendency fully. To me, buying mustard in bulk represents a natural human desire to break away from what we perceive to be a mundane, day-to-day task. Lets face it -- buying mustard isn't a task we relish, but we know that we can't risk coming home to find our entire stock of the gooey yellow stuff to be depleted. So every day, it's back to the store to buy more mustard. We would undoubtedly prefer to do something else with the time we spend checking out of the grocery store -- reading a book, watching a television program, or simply taking a nap. How can we free ourselves from this animalistic cycle of hunting and gathering, consuming and replenishing? Giant mustard appears to be our salvation. The logic is simple: If I buy a month's worth of mustard all at once, that's a month to pursue other ends besides simply satiating my hunger. Abraham Maslow would agree. He informs us that our needs fall into a hierarchy. The needs at the top, like self-actualization and enlightenment, remain out of reach until we satisfy the more basic, physiological needs at the base. Giant mustard represents a type of condiment homeostasis, a complete fulfillment of our desire for mustard that frees us to pursue greater things. Instead of perusing the aisles of the local Sam's Club, we can spend our weekends working towards something more meaningful. History would seem to agree. In all cultures, the ability to meet demands for goods preceded the development of civilization. Usually, an excess of food was stockpiled, or an agricultural system was developed, so that rather than constantly hunting and foraging, early people could begin work towards the first cities and civilizations. With the basics covered, the progress of human kind was free to continue. </p>
<p>But is giant mustard really the key to enlightenment? Or are we just delaying the inevitable? We know, even as we struggle to load that foot-and-a-half jar of mustard into our shopping carts that one day the mustard will be used or expired, and we will be forced to return to the Sam's Club. We will be forced to delay our quest for self-actualization and return to the mundane. Perhaps the secret lies in the rejection of all mustard. As abhorrent as the solution may sound to hot dog aficionados everywhere, it could be the only chance to break free of the banality of our weekly pilgrimage to the grocer. The Buddhist school of thought tells us that the source of all suffering, and the greatest barrier to enlightenment, is our desire. The constant trips to Sam's are like re-incarnation and the continuation of suffering - enlightenment will occur when we free ourselves from the cycle of purchase and consume. Rather than accepting the return to the grocery store to replenish our mustard as inevitable, we can advance towards enlightenment by realizing the folly in trying to find transient happiness by fulfilling our cravings for mustard. Once we realize that desiring mustard is not a prerequisite for enlightenment, but an impediment to it, we can eliminate the weekly trek to Sam's from our routine and instead work towards greater things. </p>
<p>As much as we'd like to think we can escape our desires simply by satisfying them with ridiculous amounts of mustard, we will eventually realize that true happiness will be found in leaving the mustard on the shelf, and shopping for something a little more meaningful.</p>
<p>interesting thought...</p>
<p>I'd be willing to PM my essay to anyone... I don't want to share it here in the open though.</p>
<p>same here....</p>
<p>Wow. My essay was really short compared to ya'll's. I'd post it, but the computer I saved it on is broken.</p>
<p>In his landmark philosophical treatise, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, David Hume levies a devastating attack on what he refers to as necessary connection. He opens his critique by drawing the distinction between impressions and ideas. Impressions are the sensory experiences, emotions, and other phenomena directly perceptible from the outside world. Ideas are the relationships we construct between these impressions by reflecting on them. The fallibility of human reason, Hume argues, lies in the assumption that these relationships are necessary. For example, one may observe that when it rains there are black clouds overhead, but it is not correct to assume that black clouds necessarily accompany rainstorms. This inference is based solely on past coincidence and rules out the possibility of a sunshower. Another faulty idea inferred from sensory perceptions is the relationship between mustard and hot dogs.</p>
<pre><code>As one browses the twenty-foot-high aisles of the local bulk food purveyor, the humongous jar of mustard is bound to catch ones eye. The mere sight of the radiant yellow barrel releases a flood of memories of bar-b-ques, picnics, cookouts, and, of course, hot dogs. The innate framework of the human mind is such that one sensory impression can trigger a series of recollections of past sensory impressions. When one sees mustard, one thinks of the taste of mustard, and when one thinks of the taste of mustard, one thinks of the taste of hot dogs with mustard. In addition to these recollection processes, one reflects on past experience of big things complementing associated big things. Big socks are associated with big shoes, big forks are associated with big knives So, because this particular jar of mustard is so gigantic, the shopper thinks of an appropriately Oldenbergesque hot dog. The conversion would follow something like this: a one-and-a-half foot tall jar of mustard with a diameter of nine inches would have a volume of about one-thousand-one-hundred-and-forty-five cubic inches. A regular sized jar of Guldens Mustard (my favorite) has a height of three-and-a-half inches, a diameter of two inches, and contains eleven cubic inches of the condiment. The gigantic jar of mustard contains one-hundred-and-four times as much yellow goo as the regular jar. Proportionality thus dictates that the hot dogs flavored with this huge volume of mustard would be one-hundred-and-four times as large as a regular hot dog. These Brobdingnagian ballpark beauties would be twenty-eight inches long and weigh twenty-six pounds.
Therefore, ideas inferred from past sensory experience entice the shoppers to buy the huge container of mustard. They couple the association of mustard and hot dogs with the presumption that big goes with big. Shoppers see the huge jar of mustard, which elicits the connection to hot dogs and the past delight experienced while eating hot dogs covered in mustard, and they assume that because this jar of mustard is so big, the future delight experienced from this purchase will be proportionately big. But before they struggle to roll the yellow bounty into their cart, they must realize their fallacious logic. Hume (who I believe preferred beef Wellington) would argue that past coincidences of hotdogs, mustard, and gained happiness does not guarantee future such coincidences. An increase in one of the three contributing factors, then, certainly does not assure an increase in the others. There can be too much of a good thing.
The power to reason is an extremely valuable tool. Past sensory experience combined with reason can provide a somewhat reliable prediction of the future. But one must realize the limits of human reason. For in the end, who really needs that much mustard?
</code></pre>
<p>After reading this essay, I still don't have a clue who you are and what you are like in person. I am also not convinced by your arguement: your points simply didn't connect in my mind. Perhaps I should read it one more time since it probably took you a while to write this essay but I'm feeling lazy right now.</p>
<p>I am not a great writer but here are my advices:
Make people remember what you write
Strike the reader
Give the reader something they want to read; never take advantage of the fact that they are forced to read what you wrote.
Deliver a message, any kind of message.</p>
<p>Since nobody replied to eireann, I will. </p>
<p>I really liked your big idea but I think you failed to deliver. Your essay could have been so much better. Your essay could have been a freaking masterpeice. You wrote a lot about what you said, and what you said wasn't anything special or meaningful. I just don't understand why you didn't make a connect between your voice and your enthusiasm and how they influenced each other. You could have described the strength of your voice and I was looking forward to reading about that until I found out that you left it out. </p>
<p>Again, to Magellan and eireann, I am a student just like you so you don't need to take me seriously (even though my comments are serious). Perhaps others see something I don't.</p>