Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Introduction:
Unable to settle on a genre we had already studied in class, I
thought about one of my favorite non-fiction authors: David Foster
Wallace. The late author has a very unique style to his essays:
personal, yet informative, with a distinct flare of cynicism. His essay
titles are usually long and uniquely descriptive. What I love about his
essays is that they feel like a conversation youre having with your
talkative, wise, and incredibly enthusiastic uncle. I say uncle and not
father, or grandfather, because the kinds of things David Foster
Wallace likes to write about isnt something your father would feel
comfortable talking about with you, and your grandfather might feel
embarrassed to say in this day and age. So uncle it is. I chose this
genre/style of writing because I feel it best reflects my own writing
style, and it is what I feel most comfortable in.
Fahrenheit. Ten years ago, in 2005, Januarys record high was a balmy
65, not terribly far from what weve been experiencing so far. This
week has been averaging in the low 50s, and not once have we
experienced a lasting snowfall this winter.
And all of that is just at home. Worldwide, temperatures are
rising, however subtle and invisible it seems. California is experiencing
one of the worst droughts in a century, with entire lakes drying up
without any sources to refill them. On Mt. Hood, the permanent
glaciers are melting at an alarming rate. This seasons snowpack is so
low, skiers and snowboarders are faced with dangerous patches of ice
and other hazards. Snow and glacial melt feeds the Bull Run River, the
primary source for Portlands water supply. If we lose those glaciers,
we ourselves could be seeing similar droughts to that of California, an
extremely opposite situation to what we are typically used to in the
rainy Willamette Valley.
Atmospheric temperatures rise like this when there is a massive
amount of greenhouse gasses trapped within the atmosphere.
Sunlight, or short wave radiation, passes into the atmosphere to warm
the Earths surface and air, and under typical circumstances, reflects
from the Earths surface and back into outer space. But with the
added amount of greenhouse gasses and carbon dioxide in the
It has changed dramatically since then, but those of us born in the last
twenty years do not know these differences as well as our parents do.
My father would also tell me stories about the house my
grandfather grew up in, where my father would sometimes visit, and
where I visited in the early years of my life to see my great-grandfather
before he passed away. The house, since torn down in favor of a
McMansion, was settled in a posh neighborhood in New Jersey near the
beach, on a calm river. In the mid-twentieth century, in the winter, the
river would freeze so thick that my grandfather and his friends would
drive cars on it without caution or fear of breaking through. Today, the
river no longer freezes, the dock has submerged, and the backyard
turned into a marsh. If that doesnt scream climate change, well, I
dont know what does.
Global warming and climate change has always been a truth in
my life. My family has always done our best to cut down on how much
gas we use, how much water is being wasted when we shower, wash
dishes, do our laundry, and water our vegetable gardens. We bought
energy-smart windows to reduce the amount of natural gas we use to
heat our home each winter, recycle anything possible and compost all
food scraps. Beef is forbidden in the household, most of our meat
literally shot by my father and sister in the hunting seasons. The
majority of our vegetable intake in the summer is sourced from our