How has my writing improved?

The second semester is drawing to a close. We had many different courses, all interesting and useful in their own right, and among them was academic writing. I found this course in particular to be extremely valuable. It improved my writing, and I already had many opportunities where I could apply my newly gained knowledge. Without further ado, I'd like to look back on the many things I learned from academic writing classes.

One of the most important skills I was taught must be proper referencing. I realized the importance of correctly crediting the original source material thanks to our writing classes. It helped me make my research process more professional and improved the quality of my academic papers drastically. Plus, it made me more discerning in terms of sources that I choose for my works.

I also learned a lot about general details and considerations that go into writing an essay. Although some of them may sound basic and "common knowledge", I had zero idea about them before our academic writing course. The need for an average essay to be at least five paragraphs long in order for it to be more persuasive was something I didn't know about. Another thing I didn't know about is the importance of a thesis statement and what it should be like. I never gave much thought to how I write my essays, but thanks to our course, I learned about the organization of the writing process, the pre-writing stage especially; something as simple as writing two loose drafts really helps me to come up with new ideas if I don't have any and to get a better overview of what I want to write. I also learned to structure my essays properly, so as to develop the ideas better and make the essays easier to read. I became much more mindful of the four primary aspects of writing: content, organization, language and mechanics.

While my writing is far from perfect, and there was no way we could have covered all the intricacies that make up the writing process, considering the current predicament we find ourselves in, my writing is nothing like it used to be. I am really glad I was able to attend the academic writing course and improve my writing.

Thank you for working with us this year!

Lockdown Violations

Coronavirus is on everyone's mind nowadays. Every day for the last three months now, we've been anxiously following the statistics, reading all the latest news, blaming politicians for mismanagement and stocking up on toilet paper. Many of us seem to agree that the Coronavirus pandemic is no laughing matter, we treat it seriously in words, and yet, our actions don't reflect this attitude in the slightest.

There are numerous recommendations we all know by now: wear a face mask, limit your time outside, avoid crowded places. According to one study based on a computer simulation, if 80% of any given population was to wear masks, the rate of infection would plummet. (Accessed: 23.05.20) In Japan, wearing a mask and practising social distancing is the new norm, followed by the absolute majority of the Japanese. This allowed the country to avoid enacting lockdown laws, maintain a working public transport system and have their businesses remain open. Japan's low infection and death rates (Accessed: 23.05.20) are also a testament to the effectiveness of adhering to these simple recommendations.

Unfortunately, they aren't universally followed. Just a few days ago, Google's mobile data revealed the carefree attitude the majority of the British people have towards the lockdown rules, (Accessed: 23.05.20)  with workplace, transit hubs and park activity returning to its January baseline. Same trend can be observed in Germany, where lockdown restrictions have been recently eased. Perhaps a more unnerving example of lockdown violations comes from Novosibirsk, where a massive "anti-lockdown" party was held in the city's centre square, (Accessed: 23.05.20) while the statistics are showing an increase in infection rates in the region, (Accessed: 23.05.20) and the hospitals are already crowded with patients. Such negligence can lead to further increase in infection and, sadly, death rates, not to mention that it'd put a massive strain on the already struggling healthcare system.

At the end of the day, it's important that a sense of personal responsibility is cultivated in the average citizen. Coronavirus has become a global pandemic, and it can be stalled and defeated only collectively. Failing to do one's part, either as a sign of protest, or as a result of absent-minded carelessness and apathy, can lead to fatal consequences. Wear a mask, stay at home, avoid crowded places and stay healthy.

Sources:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/may/21/data-public-uk-relaxed-attitude-lockdown-restrictions
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Template:COVID-19_pandemic_data
https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2020/05/masks-covid-19-infections-would-plummet-new-study-says
https://ria.ru/20200524/1571904369.html
https://стопкоронавирус.рф/information/

Voice and Text Mail Pros and Cons

When it comes to messaging someone, you've got two options nowadays: you can either send a text or a voice message. Recently though, there's been a lot of discussion about which method is more preferable, and voice messaging consistently catches a lot of flak. So today I'd like to discuss the pros and cons of both types of messaging,

Text messaging is the conventional type of messaging everyone is most familiar with. Its biggest advantage is, in my opinion, the ability to structure what you want to say, develop your ideas, organize a sort of "flow" within the message to make it easier to take in and understand. I call this attribute 'quality'.
When it comes to speed, it's best to consider both parties taking part in the communication. For the sender, typing a message takes quite some time; however, it takes seconds for the receiver to read the message and understand it clearly.
Another important thing to consider is privacy. It's possible to type and read any message in a discreet manner and maintain your privacy.

Voice messaging is extremely new when compared to text messaging. Its unique quality must be the fact that it allows people to convey a greater range of emotions in their messages. Some of my groupmates also think this way.
Voice mail's another cited advantage is its speed. But again, it's important to consider both sides: the sender and the recipient. While recording a message is quicker than typing one, listening takes more time than reading. What we're able to hear is limited by the sender's speech speed, and the average person speaks roughly 130 words per minute in casual conversation. Meanwhile, average reading speed is estimated to be around 228 words per minute in English (and 184 words per minute in Russian).
The quality of voice messages is lacking as well. It's harder to structure what you want to say in speech, and as a result, the message may have a lot of unnecessary information, bloating a message with an otherwise simple idea.
Privacy issues are also present in voice messaging. Unless you have headphones, it's near impossible to listen to a voice message and keep it private in a public setting. Discreet recording would also prove to be difficult in such situations.

All in all, voice messaging seems to be objectively worse than text messaging.

Sources:
https://annavdeeva18825.blogspot.com/2020/04/text-and-voice-messages.html
https://wordcounter.net/blog/2016/06/02/101702_how-fast-average-person-speaks.html
https://iovs.arvojournals.org/article.aspx?articleid=2166061
https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/dec/02/five-reasons-why-voice-messaging-is-the-next-big-thing

Book Club: Three Men in a Boat

For this year’s Individual Reading lessons I chose a rather interesting book called “Three Men in a Boat”, or, as the “complete” name of the book goes: “Three Men in a Boat: (To Say Nothing of the Dog).”

It was written in 1899 by Jerome K. Jerome, a British author, and tells a story of three men on a boating trip down the River Thames.

I chose the book because of its genre. It’s a comic novel, and I like reading fun and lighthearted books. After taking a glimpse at the book’s cover, I knew the book is going to be taking place entirely on the boat and there will probably be various antics and comedic mishaps happening in a slapstick fashion. The book’s cover matches the book’s contents well. There is humour, it’s physical and it’s also based on character’s mistakes and own ineptitude. But I’m also glad the book includes the more poetic and “philosophical” passages. I particularly liked the one about how things that weren’t considered important in the past are considered historical relics in the present.

“Will it be the same in the future?  Will the prized treasures of to-day always be the cheap trifles of the day before?  Will rows of our willow-pattern dinner-plates be ranged above the chimneypieces of the great in the years 2000 and odd?  Will the white cups with the gold rim and the beautiful gold flower inside (species unknown), that our Sarah Janes now break in sheer light-heartedness of spirit, be carefully mended, and stood upon a bracket, and dusted only by the lady of the house?”

I don’t think there are any problems that the book tries to tackle, as it’s just a comical novel.

I think my groupmates could be interested in reading this book, as it is fun and easy to read, and its humour and witticisms are pretty much timeless and can still be understood in spite of the massive time gap between today and the years the book was written in.

Interesting Video

Today I'd like to show you a video I found on the Internet:

The reason I chose to show you this particular video is because it's funny, but at the same time it demonstrates great craftsmanship and ingenuity.

The questions I have are:
Did you like this video?
How would you rate the worksmanship skills of the person in the video?
Do you think it's possible to repair your sink with ramen? If yes, would you try this?

Short Story Assignment

Allochka had a rough day today. Her sales are getting worse, and soon the local gang will come to collect. It's hard to act tough for a girl like her. She is young, four years away from thirty, her girlish sensitivity preserved miraculously intact in spite of her circumstances. Regardless, a bitter life demands a bitter drink, so she heads for the club. She can see its bright lights from around the corner. This night's special, she knows it.She opens the door, pays for her ticket and enters the hall. At the bar she orders the usual, whiskey on the rocks, and takes a sip.
As the first buzz subsides she feels someone's eyes on her. It's not a lustful look, it's something else. She glances around and sees a man sitting not too far away. He is unkempt, his beard is grizzly, his face is burrowed with wrinkles. He almost looks like a thug, almost. There's something warm about him she can't put her finger on, a weird sense of familiarity. He quickly turns away.
She sits closer.

Hey.

He raises his eyebrows and stares down. He looks at her without moving his head.


Yeah?

You wanted something?

He turns his head.

You look like someone I knew.

Who?

My wife.

Allochka leans forward, somewhat interested.

And what is her name?

Natasha.

Allochka's face lights up with curiousity.

My mother's name is also Natasha.

...And your face is just like hers.

She wanted to know more.


Tell me about her, 

The man furtively glances around, making sure no one is listening.

To be frank, I don't know where to start. Both of us were from the same village and we loved each other very much. We married immediately after we graduated. Everything seemed perfect, but I destroyed it.

He looks at Allochka. She listens intently. He painted himself into the corner. But he's too drunk too care, and the girl seems gentle. He sighs and takes a swig.

...I love fishing you know? Must be my favourite pastime. And, uh, one day I went fishing, just like usual. My wife was alone at home. And you know how we men go fishing, right? I had a drink, and then some more, and then I realized - I forgot to take my bait! I came back home, and as I was stumbling around the porch, I heard my wife talking with somebody. It was weird, she was alone, right? So I listened in. A stranger was declaring his love for my wife. The next thing I heard, he was telling her to run away with him and leave me behind. I was confused. I was angry. I took an axe. I opened the door and rushed in. I swung the axe and heard a thump. My wife was screaming, and everything was like in a haze. I looked down to see the face of the man I killed. It was my friend. I don't remember much else.

The man grows silent for a moment. Then continues.


I surrendered myself to authorities, I came clean. The sentence was 20 years of prison.

Allochka is taken aback, but she is somewhat understanding.

And what about your wife?

She was under great shock, she was hospitalised, not sure for how long. I was denied correspondence. I was thinking about her the entire time I was in jail... ...her and our child.

He gazes in the distance.

I want to know whose baby it was, I want to know where he or she is now.

This story tugged on her heartstrings. She tells him about her life, about her money problems, about the stresses of being a saleswoman, and he shows compassion.

What is your name, by the way?

Grisha. And yours?

Alla.

The two continue talking for the entire night and leave the club as good friends, perhaps kindred spirits. He comes up to a black car with opaque windows, waves goodbye and gets into the passenger seat. Allochka goes home.

A week goes by. She is packing her goods, small housewares, clothing pins, pots and cutlery into a bag, when she hears a knock on her table.

Have you forgot about your debt? I hope you haven't.

She looks up and sees three bulky men in sportswear. She knows they don't take delayed payments, but tries to bargain anyway.


Just one more week, I'm only a few hundred rubles short, you may take a part of the sum right now.

Her speech is cut short by a loud bang on the table with a fist.

Listen here, you know our policy, you don't have the money, you're kicked out. Come over here!

One of the thugs grabs her by her arm and drags her out of her stall, she screams and tries to fight him off, all in vain. As she thrashes around she sees their car, black against the light grey of the sky and of the ground. Suddenly, its windows lower. She sees Grisha. Grisha sees her. His expression quickly turns to one of shock. He opens the door, yelling for the man to stop. The man obeys, somewhat confused.

What is it, boss?

You leave her alone! She'll pay up later.

He runs up to Alla. Everyone is watching. He silently draws a small piece of paper and a pencil out of his pocket, quickly scribbles something on it and puts it into her hand.

That's the time you have left. You must have money by that moment.

He turns around, calls his men, and starts walking towards the car. Alla is scared, she unfolds the crumpled piece of paper given to her. The note reads:

Meet me at the club this evening.

She raises her eyes from the paper to look at Grisha. He gives her a quick concerned glance before disappearing behind the window.

Hours later, she is rushing to the club. She is glad to see him alone at the table. Grisha looks disappointed. She sits down. There are no drinks on the table.

Why didn't you just tell me earlier? You could've saved us both a lot of trouble.

Alla feels guilty, as if she is being scolded by her father.

I can pay for you, I've got the money. I... this is awkward. I wish I could give you special treatment, or at least a discount but the guys won't understand. I can only pay for you for so long.

I can pay just fine, it's just that... my mother.

Grisha frowns.

Your mother? What's wrong with her?

She is... She needs care. She is constantly at her hospital. I have to pay for her as well.

After a brief moment of silence she continues.

I wanted to visit her today. Could you give me a lift?

They leave the club and go outside. The same black car is parked outside. This time Grisha is driving. Alla sits at the backseats, giving him directions. He takes many turns, plaques with street names and bedraggled parks run past them. Finally, the car stops. As they leave the car, a small, grey, tiled building stands in front of them

Mind if I go with you?

Sure.

Drab concrete floors and white walls of a narrow corridor make Grisha feel uneasy. They go door after door without entering any, when Alla stops and gently pushes one of them open.
Inside, on a plain wooden bed, lies a woman covered with a big blanket. She is around Grisha's age, her stare is somewhat vacant.
Grisha stays in the corridor, Alla goes in and sits beside her. They talk. The woman talks rather awkwardly and quietly, she makes pauses, repeats same words. Grisha finds her voice hauntingly familiar. He carefully slips in, and as he moves closer towards the bed, he stops dead in his tracks.

Natasha!..

He wants to say it louder, but he can't, he can only whisper. Shocked, he lurches forward. The woman slowly raises her eyes from Alla and finally notices him. As she looks into his face, her expression changes, she becomes pale, as if she sees a ghost. Her terrified eyes run all over Grisha's massive figure. She opens her mouth slightly, but nothing else. Grisha falls to his knees and grabs onto the edge of the bed. He has a lump in his throat, tears are slowly welling up in his eyes. Alla sits on the chair, confused, the realization of it all gradually dawning on her.

I thought I had no one I could call family. I thought I destroyed it all.

Grisha wipes away the tears with his sleeve.

This time I will make it right.

Allochka gets down onto the floor, giving Grisha a warm embrace. The light of sunset fills the room.