Taylor+White

My sporting wiki: http://aiss-english-10.wikispaces.com/Taylor+White-Sporting+History My photo that symbolises Australia: I chose this image as u can see the ocean which shows a form of life and how things life and also the mountains where different animals live showing that the two places are nearby like australia it is multicultural and also has many oppurtunitys to do many things which is why i thought this picture resembled australia.

Graph of pictures analysed:

by Clara Southern || Tom Roberts, A Quiet Day on Darebin Creek , 1885  ||  Frederick McCubbin, Down on His Luck , 1889  ||  Charles Conder, A Holiday at Mentone , 1888  || silenced? || The woman's perspective is kind of silenced as she is doing her work for the day, But she is actually one of the key figures as it is focused on her day(her tending to the bee farm). || The man standing by the river is show as privileged as he is lucky to stand next to the river in awe. I think that the trees and a bit of the landscape are being silenced as it is more a focus on the beautiful river. || the mans lifestyle is really shown or talked about but what the town life of another australian is really silenced as most people life a normal town lifestyle. || the natural australian lifestyle is very silenced in this picture as you are seeing what advertisement someone might be trying to get across. ||
 * Question || Text 1 || Text 2 || Text 3 || Text 4 ||
 * Text title & composer || Old Bee Farm
 * What is the text about? What ‘narrative’ about the bush & the Australian landscape is it trying to tell? || the text is showing the life of a person in australia as its showing a house with a woman tending to the bee farm || The Image is about australias rivers and how natural it is and how over time they have cut away at the rocks and all the tree's that are in the picture || the text is about a swag man and his lifestyle and how he lifes life in the outback with nothing but a small fire. || it is showing the typical australian lifestyle as that is what people think of australia all nice beaches and lovely sand shores where there are not a lot of people as this is incorecct ||
 * Whose perspective is privileged/
 * What visual techniques are used to position us to accept this perspective? || we are moved to see that the Australian landscape or life is quite beautiful as the painter has shown a lot of the environment with the long grass, tall trees in the background and the house made of wood also in the background || You are positioned to the river because there is an emphasis in the colours aswell as a emphasis on the rocks and shrubbery. || we are persuaded to view his perspective by showing what he has and how he would spend a day after work . || they are making the beach look very nice and calm and very enticing that it looks nice also the pier which you can walk on giving it that romantic feel to it. ||

Annotations of the kangaroo story:

' Dead,' said the man, 'just like that'. He stopped the engine. The boy stared out the window. 'Well?' demanded the man. 'Do you think you can do it?' The boy said nothing. The man said, 'If you can't do it now you never will.' 'Yes'. said the boy, 'I can do it.' 'If you can't do it now you never will .' They left the car sprawled across the crest of the road. They walked into the paddock. The boy lagged. ' Don't walk behind me ,' said the man. The grass glistened in the early morning sun. The boy stretched hard to keep up. The wet grass was cold on his legs. Grass seeds stabbed through his socks and prickled his ankles. Flat seeds stuck to his skin. The soft hairs on his legs were soon matted and tangled with the sticky dew and the seeds from the grass. The man stopped. He said, 'Watch'. He raised his rifle. It cracked and the first kangaroo flipped into the air and fell down. The second kangaroo froze, staring directly at the man. He fired. The second kangaroo flipped and fell in the grass. They walked to the bodies. The boy was slightly behind and on the man's left. As he walked his rifle wavered. 'Watch where you point that,' said the man. The first kangaroo lay on its side with its head in a puddle of blood. Its forepaws were curled like small hands. It lifted its head to caress the boy with its large limpid eyes. he was surprised how peaceful it looked. The man squatted beside it. He poked its belly. He lifted its tail then dropped it so it fell like raw meat. 'Dead,' said the man. 'Dead below the neck. It doesn't feel a thing.' The boy edged closer. He knelt to look for the hole where the bullet went in. The kangaroo swivelled its eyes, trying to watch both the man and the boy. Its throat was spongy with blood. The man put the muzzle of his gun against the back of the kangaroo's head. The kangaroo jerked. Its lips drew back like a dog's. Then it was limp. Blood poured from its nostrils. The boy was fascinated. He had never seen anything like this before. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the bleeding head. The blood thickened quickly. the flow stopped. The man moved away but still the boy watched over the dead kangaroo. It had happened so quickly and so easily that the boy couldn't believe it was real. He reached a hand to the kangaroo's breast. It was warm and very soft. The black eyes remained open. He couldn't believe it was dead. He stretched a finger towards the coagulating blood but drew back without touching. The man finished the second kangaroo. The boy asked, 'What do we do with them now?' 'Nothing', said the man, 'let them rot.' They walked further from the road, skirting thick patches of scrub. The boy felt very strong in the crisp morning air. He carried the rifle with ease. He enjoyed the strength of his legs as he strode through the grass. He felt that he could walk over anything that got in his way. The sun was warm on his face. They continued until they came close to the river, then turned and patrolled alongside the bank. Their wet legs glistened in the sun. ' Don't walk behind me ,' said the man. They entered a cathedral of great river gums. The sun filtered through green stained-glass leaves. The man stopped at the far side. He pointed. he said, ' If you can't do it now you never will .' The boy swallowed. He cleared his throat. He swallowed again. He braced his legs wide and snuggled the rifle to his eye. He aimed over the head of the grey kangaroo. He held his breath. He lowered the sights onto the white patch of the kangaroo's throat. The kangaroo jumped in the air, flipped backwards, and fell. 'Great shot!' cried the man. The boy was surprised how easy it had been. He couldn't remember pulling the trigger. The gun smell was sharp in his nose. They found the crippled roo almost hidden in the grass. It was smaller than the boy had expected. It lay on its side, mouth open, breath gurgling deep in its throat. There was no blood. The boy stood over it, looked down, and felt nothing. He was empty as if his heart and his guts had been sucked out the barrel of his gun. The kangaroo twisted its head to look up. Its black eyes met his. He had never seen eyes so soft and so black. 'Kill it,' said the man. The boy touched the rifle to the back of its skull. The roo stiffened. The boy thought it rattled but afterwards he couldn't be sure.Then it was limp. Its mouth and nostrils ran blood. 'Good,' said the man. The boy was disappointed. He had expected more, but didn't know what. He had thought that somehow this would make him a man - but it had made no difference at all. A glint caught his eye. He retrieved the empty cartridge case. it was hot with the smell of the gun. The boy was amazed that so much power had come from something so small. He put it in his hip pocket. Then he stood up. They followed the bank of the river. ' Don't walk behind me ,' said the man. They came to a large mob of browsing kangaroos. With their heads in the grass and their backs humped the roos looked like rounded red and grey rocks. The boy watched while the man aimed, not at the closest kangaroo, but at one that had lifted its head on the far side of the mob. He fired. The kangaroo spun and fell down. A grey raised its head like a periscope from the grass. The man shot it at once. The mob became restless. The man shot rapidly as the kangaroos began to move. They shuffled at first, not knowing which way to go, then leapt wildly in every direction. The air was full of flying kangaroos. A few remained perfectly still. Without meaning to, without knowing what he was doing the boy raised his rifle and shot the closest kangaroo. a small grey hopped towards him. He aimed into its chest and shot five times before it fell. Another raced across his front. He swung the rifle and the roo tumbled into the grass. He shot until his ammunition was spent. Suddenly the roos were all gone. The boy was surprised to find himself with an empty gun in his hands. He pointed the empty gun towards the man. 'Don't ever do that,' said the man. 'It's empty.' The man kicked the doe in the stomach. It didn't move. He kicked its head. 'Dead'. The boy watched in silence. He watched while the man strolled among the cripples blessing each with his wand. The boy didn'tmove to assist. He waited while the man shot each kangaroo in the brain. Something inside the boy died. The man rolled a cigarette. He stood aggressively with the rifle hanging loose in his arm. He gestured widely at the magnificent sky. He said, 'It's going to be a bloody good day.' 'Yes it is,' said the boy. he looked at the burning blue sky, then at the man. He tightened his grip on the gun. The man blew smoke in the air. The boy pulled grass seeds from his socks. Several had worked down inside his boots where he couldn't reach them. They scratched him each time he moved. 'Re-load,' said the man. 'We'll look for stragglers. Some of them won't have gone far.' They crossed the flood plain, treading carefully on the uneven soil. The man was upright, his rifle in front of his body, his gaze levelled far ahead. the boy trudged with his head down, the rifle like lead in his hands. 'Don't walk behind me.' They moved away from the river. There were no big trees here. The open grass of the pain was interspersed with outcrops of rock and patches of thick gidgee scrub. They trod a corridor between two patches of scrub. The boy wasn't aware of aiming the rifle - nor did he hear the sound of the shot. The first kangaroo fell at once. The second bounded away. The boy waited. He knew it would stop to look back. When it did he shot it in the throat. 'Jesus you can shoot,' said the man. The boy finished the stricken kangaroo the same way as before, while the man sat on a rock and rolled a smoke. Standing over the second corpse the boy sensed another presence. Hairs crawled on the back of his neck. He saw a huge buck on the far side of the clearing. It was the grandfather of all kangaroo. It glowed red gold in the sun. The boy was mesmerised by the big kangaroo. It was a magnificent beast. This one, this big one, the boy knew, would make him a man. He planted his feet wide and braced himself firm as a tree. he aimed over the head of the big kangaroo. It was a very long way. The boy paused for some time watching the big red buck past the sights of the rifle and holding his breath. He lowered the rifle. He sighed. 'Shoot it,' said the man. The boy hesitated. He shuffled his feet. 'Shoot it.' The boy was entranced as the rifle raised itself in his hands. The sights dragged his eye to the kangaroo's throat. He fired. The big roo didn't flinch. The boy thought he had missed. He shot again. The big red didn't seem to hear the bullets go past. The boy shot again and again. The rifle clicked empty. At the same instant the big kangaroo crashed full length. It fell like a tree. The boy stared at the place it had been. It had been so far away. he stared stupidly across he clearing, the gun loose by his side. 'Re-load,' said the man. The boy knelt in the wet grass. he laid the rifle over his knees and fumbled the magazine free. he choked it with cartridges, thumbing each down against the pressure of the spring until it locked under the turned metal lip of the magazine mouth. The magazine grew heavier with each shell. The spring tightened. his hands shook. They were slippery with sweat. He clipped the magazine to the rifle. It felt as heavy and hard as a brick. He stood slowly. He didn't want to see the dead buck, but he followed the man. He watched the man's head. He noted the hollow above the collar where the man's spine joined the base of his skull. The boy raised the rifle. It was heavy in his hands. ' Don't walk behind me, ' said the man. The boy lowered the rifle. He joined the man by the great red kangaroo. Its throat had been pulverised by the slugs. The boy imagined it full of maggots, with goannas crawling inside it to eat out its guts. It would rot and dismember and its bones bleach and crack in the sun. The man kicked its face. 'Dead,' said the man. 'Just like that.' The boy bit his lip. He flushed. Tears came to his eyes. A solitary crow barked far away. The man turned his back. He started for the car. he said, 'That's enough for today.' The boy raised his head. The world was blurred by his tears. He took a step after the man but staggered and almost fell. He paused to gain his balance. The crow barked. Suddenly the boy felt very calm. His eyes saw his hands lift the rifle. He felt nothing. He felt as if he were dead. The sights, blurred by his tears, danced about the man's head. They steadied a moment. 'Dead,' said the boy.

The main object that is being foregrounded is his reaction and the knife, the foregrounding used created by the close up on the face as he smiles with delight as he brings out his knife emphasizing he knows how to use one he is dangerous when needed showing he can be vicious at times. Some of the vales shown here are that he is courageous brave. This is showing a lot about the australian culture that they like all of these things and that they like the rush of a fight and that they like their weapons. The thing that has been foregrounded is the busy streets and the crowded walkways with Crocodile Dundee leaning on a pole watching people go by. It is showing the outsider and how people work al in the same way. This comparison is showing us how two lifestyles are so different and that they live right next to each other. This is showing that just doing something small like throwing a can, can be a amazing thing for some people as you see people taking photo's. this gives us the idea that anyone is special and that we are all amazing as this would seem like such a simple stupid thing yet he becomes a hero giving us the idea of anyone can be a hero.