Writing To Entertain - Commentary
Writing To Entertain - Commentary The piece entitled 'Let's Talk About Sex...' is a piece written to simply entertain its audience. The text is in no way formal or serious, as it is written for a men's magazine and deals with modern issues in a modern way. The readers of this text are intended to be predominantly male between the ages of 16 and 35. The ideal reader of this text would be a stereotypical man who is looking for a light read during his lunch break at the office. The text itself is very euphoric, and arouses many emotions in the reader as he/she progresses through the article. For example, sympathy arises within the reader when they read the opening paragraph ("Tuesday, and I pace up and down the bar of my...."). Sympathy is created here as the audience can relate to what the author is experiencing, there is no one I can think of who hasn't been set a task of which they do not know how to complete. Sympathy is also created in this paragraph when the reader discovers the author's job severely lacks excitement. The sentence, "A couple of hours pass and I've had no progress, still behind the bar, still waiting for a customer to lighten up my day," uses repetition to emphasise the boredom that I used to go through whilst stood at that bar. Once again, this allows the audience to connect with the text as most people have had a long, laborious day at work at some
Writing to entertain.
GCSE English. Writing to entertain 07/10/02. The awakening light of dawn flickered like a candle through the bars of my cell. I sighed, a mixture of tiredness, cold and fear. Last night had been long and I had not slept. That was not unusual these days. Through the night, like the many before, I had been stumbling through my thoughts and feelings. Back and fore, like a rocking chair, trying desperately to make sense of my situation. A sudden sound, thunderous to my ears, jolted me out of my thoughts. It was the Guard on his morning rounds. " So how are we today Prisoner 122?" his voice came through the cell door, dripping with sarcasm. I looked up from my place on that hard damp mattress and tried to focus. His small pig - like eyes were nearly all I could make out from the deep woods like gloom of the cell. I knew I should not waste the little energy that I had, but there was no denying, I had come to hate this individual intensely. "I will call again at dusk" he grunted, sliding back the heavy flap. I was once again alone with my thoughts. Clutching the thin coarse prison blanket to my body, hoping that it and the daylight hours would bring me some warmth. I had lost count of how long I been confined in solitary to this cell. Days, weeks, months. It did not seem to matter anymore or make any sense. The cell was about 2 metres by 2 metres. It was
Writing to entertain.
Ashley Stanley 10h Writing to Entertain - 1st Draft It had been exactly twenty years since my world crumbled to pieces around me. Twenty years since I'd loved, twenty years since I'd been truly happy. I was fifteen when I met John and we were both on the verge of leaving school. We had known each other for years but had never really spoke to each other or got to know one another. A week before the leavers disco a reliable source, well, my best friend Lisa had told me John liked me and wanted to go the disco with me. To my astonishment I got giddy with excitement and was jumping about frivolously, although, not to my knowledge, John was standing directly behind me. When I noticed I quickly shrugged my peculiar behaviour off, turned around and smiled sweetly. John seemed nervous like something was bothering him but he got straight to the point and asked me to go to the disco with him. In the normal school girl manner I said 'yes', and ran off giggling with my friends. Looking back now he must have thought I was really pathetic, I'm surprised he still wanted to go with me after all the palaver. That night something came over me and I found the courage to ring him. It wasn't much of a conversation but there was definitely chemistry. That weekend I headed to town to choose my outfit. I spent hours wondering
Writing to explore, imagine, entertain.
WRITING TO EXPLORE, IMAGINE, ENTERTAIN. At the end of the corridor, the closed door was waiting. It had been closed for many years. The room which patiently waited behind it had a haunting past, but this evening the door had to be opened. It was nearing the end of the eighteenth century. The door and it's long, endless corridor were part of an enourmous country house, a very old house which had seen many new family members, many deaths, many betrayals and knew many secrets. The family decided it was time to move on to a new place. Before they could sell, every room had to be checked, yes, even that room! The master of the houseand his eldest son made their way to the main hall to start up the stairs, all the way to the top floor of four floors. It was a long way, the eldest son, william, glanced out of the window, a shadow set across the whole house. It was the end of the day, night was setting in. Eventually the two had made their way up the bright, richly coloured staircase and headed towardsthe dull, faded corridor which led to that room. William had never before set eyes on the corridor or the door or that room. That's all his father ever said about the room or it's corridor "you shaln't go there William, you wouldn't want to find yourself trapped in that room". so for william this was a sort of adventure. What could have possibly happened there? does his father
Writing to Explore / Imagine / Entertain - "Patchwork Guilt"
Writing to Explore / Imagine / Entertain "Patchwork Guilt" His eyes were not locked on anyone or anything in particular, but to all those around him they seemed to be fixed on the floor in front of him. The piercing sound of the lawyer's voice resounded throughout the courtroom, tearing apart the remnants of his hope. He couldn't see a future in front of him; despondency and dejection were the only things left. A cough echoed behind him and it punctured his spirit - he realised his hand had jumped to his heart, and his trembling became uncontrollable. The voices in his head became loud and shrieking. He was being told to scream and shout, run away or collapse. His subconscious mind fought with his conscious mind, and as barrages of shells flew across a tattered, war-torn landscape, any desire for peace and serenity that he may have had faded into the background. Mere minutes before this, the protagonist in question was in a somewhat less commiserable state. Most of the inhabitants of his mind were from races of fear and anxiety. These emotions had found themselves in this unusually pleasant home because of a lapse of understanding within his own thought processes. The gates of his mind were left open because those left with the duty of closing them (a pair of aloof and pompous emotions named pride and affectation) were unable to carry out their business because they were
writing to entertain
Kerry: Too Much Too Young THE NIGHT HAD BEGUN quite normally for us: in a pub. I'd just turned thirteen and had been living with Mum and her boyfriend Dave Wheat in London's East End for a couple of months. She'd been out all day 'kiting'. She'd taken orders from friends and neighbours, then gone to different shops using stolen credit cards to buy £50 to £100 worth of stuff in each one. Afterwards she'd sell everything on at half the price. While she 'worked', Dave would wait for her with a drink in a pub nearby. They'd had a good day and we'd gone to the Three Rabbits to round it off with their friend Barbara, who was a heroin addict at the time, her redhead husband Micky and their eight-year-old daughter Sharon. The Three Rabbits was a smoky old-fashioned pub on the Romford Road, in the heart of London's East End. In those days it was a real gangster haunt, where men carried guns or knives in their leather jackets and weren't afraid to use them. There were worn stools by the long wooden bar, a patterned carpet that had seen better days, tables covered in glass stains, beer mats and overflowing ashtrays, and two pool tables. Seeing the film Moulin Rouge when I was older reminded me of what it was like, because the guys who drank there were all such weird characters. There was the midget; the one who kept passing out; the one who was a bit of a lunatic; the funny one; the
English Language - Writing to Entertain - Short Story
English Language - Writing to Inform - Movie Review Not many movies can claim the distinction of having hypnotized their audience; The Prestige is one among those movies, and one look at its director Christopher Nolan's previous works, unsurprisingly so. From the cult classic following he gained in his debut effort (appropriately) titled Following, to the critically acclaimed restarting of the Batman franchise in Batman Begins, Nolan's portfolio has no room for failure thus far, and The Prestige is certainly no exception. Based on the Christopher Priest novel of the same name, the plot revolves around two amateur illusionists, Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman) and Alfred Borden (Christian Bale), under the apprenticeship of Cutter (Michael Caine), both of whom are eventually involved in a better and deadly feud; from the get-go of the rivalry, we can expect tables to be turned and gauntlets to be thrown down. The movie opens with Cutter's narrative, demonstrating the three sections of a magic trick; the trick, the turn and the prestige. The narrative is spoken over scenes of Angier performing a trick with an almost Frankensteinian contraption, while Borden watches in the crowd. After Borden forces his way backstage, a terrible accident occurs, leaving Borden convicted of murder. In his cell, he is given the diary of Angier, and in read it, a flashback occurs to when Angier was
English Coursework Writing 2 Explore Emagine & Entertain (The Gap)
English Coursework: Writing to Explore, Imagine and Entertain. The Gap The year is 2032, I have just escaped in an 'Eagle' and I am making my way towards my home planet, Earth. I am getting a reading on my long-range scanners and it's Earth! I have been waiting for this moment for months. I wonder if my house is the same or my friends still remember me. All I can do now is wait and hope 'they' don't catch me. It all started 10 years ago when I got a phone call from my friend Danny. "Jimmy, phone." "Who for?" "You, who else." "Oh right, who is it?" "I didn't ask... just take the phone." "When did he phone? Just kidding, I got it." "Hi, is that Danny, I got..." "Never mind all that. I just intercepted a virtual message, I think it's code red. It sounds amazing, no extraordinary..." "Just cut to the chase." "Oh yeh! Sorry, they said it was the destroyers again. One was supposed to have crash-landed this time near that scientific research centre, I heard them saying they want to find out once and for all if it is the Russians or Japanese." "When should we go?" "Now" I met Danny on the corner of Madison and Barley Street at 10pm. We made our way towards the centre as fear and excitement grew stronger with each step. I gave Danny one of my radios in case we lost each other, and we set them on a secure channel. On the way we agreed to leave before 12am so
Writing To Entertain - Short Story - It was Friday night, my mum had arranged to go out with my dad...
Writing To Entertain - Short Story It was Friday night, my mum had arranged to go out with my dad, so I called a few friends over so we could watch a movie, order a pizza, talk about boys, the usual I guess. 'Come on Frank we're late for our reservation! Em what time are Janet and Angela coming?' 'In about 10 minutes mum'. 'OK, you know the rules yeah lights out around 12, don't open the door to any strangers, Frank I'm going to the car I'll see you there!'. 'I'm coming Honey! Be good Emily, my mobile numbers on the T.V if you need me, otherwise I'll see you later.' That was it, they left for the restaurant. It was my parent's anniversary and my dad had a classy restaurant booked. I sat down, flicking around on T.V, I glanced at the clock, 8:00. Janet and Ange should be here any minute. The doorbell rang, I opened it, it was Janet. Ange was strolling behind with her bag of clothes. She was only staying the night, she must have had enough clothes for the weekend. 'Heeey Janet, you all right Ange, come in'. They put their stuff in my room and came down, we ordered a pizza and started eating. We watched 'The Fresh Prince' on telly until we decided which video to watch. Ange had other ideas, 'I knew I forgot something! Why don't I go home and get that new horror film, I have it on DVD, I didn't wanna watch it alone, Ill be back in 15 minutes'. 'Ok make it quick! This better be
"Documentary makers attempt to do more than just entertain their audiences."
"Documentary makers attempt to do more than just entertain their audiences." What is a documentary? Documentary texts are those which supposedly aim to document reality. It is an attempt to get a 'truth' of people, places and events. Presenting reality however is something of an oxymoron, for it being impossible to represent reality without constructing a narrative that may be fictional in places. The documentary maker generally establishes a position before starting and is often influenced to prove that position. What is entertainment? Entertainment is the provision of amusement and pleasure for a specific person or audience. This may be emotional pleasure, visceral pleasure, intellectual pleasure, counter culture pleasure, counter reading pleasure or genre community pleasure. There are numerous sections on the films which act upon intellectual pleasures, counter culture and counter reading pleasures in the forms of interviews, voice-overs, actuality, graphics etc. All these pleasure add to this entertainment aspect of the film. However this entertainment is not the overall objective of the producers but only the medium in which the message is travelling on. The film is highly political and subjective as we see Michael Moore confront the base of violence in "American Society." He uses comedy as entertainment, used for instance on the intro of the show. We hear M.Moore
