# data[].attributes.body
Interpretation

"Finally, turning toward home, I wave good-bye to Lincoln, whose bronze statue stands in the dead center of the square. Then I nod at Gandhi, whose bronze statue stands on the square's western edge. They shot him too." p. 255

I absolutely love the way Vowell chose to end this book. She her ending is abrupt, like a loose end the reader wishes to be tied. She did this for two reasons. The first is to nod back toward the nature of this book, which reads almost like a road trip diary. Throughout the book she has written about the encounters she's had while visiting these historical sites, both significant and insignificant. And, like any road trip, the book doesn't have a solid conclusion Not every journey will lead up to some great revelation, and clearly Vowell's 'pilgrimage' didn't. I also find that this ending resembles the assassinations that Vowell dedicated this book to. When someone's life ends abruptly, there is no solid, meaningful conclusion. These people had no time to perfect their final wishes or to tie up their own loose ends, and neither does this book. This is the message Vowell wanted to leave readers with, and she chose the very ending to do so.

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Basic

"Here I've been under the impression that every time I come here to the Lincoln Memorial, I'm cheating death. Because the whole time I stand around reading his speeches, searching his eyes, I feel like I'm bringing Abraham Lincoln back to life." p.251

This has me once again questioning just how seriously Vowell takes this. In the very beginning of the book, she didn't shy away from religious comparisons, but here she is taking it to extremes. I understand that she is passionate about American history to the point where this feels like her religion to her, but I have to wonder just how far that goes. I believe that this portion, serious and heartfelt in contrast to her usual tone, may provide some insight into what that answer might be. Still, I would like to cross-examine some other works of hers to better understand just how serious she is here.

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Evaluation

"Suddenly and forever the World War II Memorial stopped being clunky architecture and turned into the sound of my uncle's voice telling me that story. Now I don't care what it looks like. They could have carved it out of chewed bubble gum and I would think of it fondly." p. 248

Now, this part is phenomenal, as far as my judgement goes. She didn't just capture how it feel to visit that site, she brought it to life. I remember when I stood in front of the Tennessee pillar at that very memorial and feeling my breath catch in my throat. Her description hearing her uncle's voice while she stood there brings the scene to life in readers' minds, and the goofy comparison only emphasizes her emotional reaction to the memorial. This is incredible writing, and good luck convincing me otherwise.

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Reflection

"It's my favorite place because of the blankness, because of those columns that are such standard-issue Western civ cliches they don't so much exist as float. Inside the Lincoln Memorial I know what Frederick Douglass meant when he described what it was like to be invited to Lincoln's White House: 'I felt big there.'" p. 247

When I visited the Lincoln Memorial, though I couldn't put the feeling into words quite yet, I felt this way exactly. In fact, many of the memorials I visited, especially the Jefferson Memorial, made my tiny fifth-grade self feel larger than life. The designs made me feel important, like I was a part of something larger than I could wrap my head around. That the essence of the nation's capital, and the nation itself. It's a blank slate, but under that blankness lies a million lines of writing that have been cleaned off before your own chalk graced the surface. I found the Memorial to do the man justice, as it's a design so blank and open that anyone who visits feels not only welcome, but great.

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Rant

"...these creepy historical flukes offer momentary relief from the oppression of chaos and taht is not nothing. They give order to the universe. They give meaning. Of course, life is still pretty meaningless and death is the only true democracy. But Robert Todd Lincoln, huh? Weird." p. 254

And this is where she lost me. This entire book, I found not one philosophy that I disagreed on (aside from the occasional extreme religious comparison, which I dismissed as exaggeration), yet here I finally find myself at odds with Vowell. I completely disagree with her viewpoint, and I find it sad that she thinks this way. Regardless of religious beliefs, life have value and meaning. One doesn't have to matter in the grand scheme of the universe to still have personal meaning. Here's one philosophical scenario: let's say you are n a room with only a red button in front of you. You are told that if you press the button, you will end the suffering of thousands of people. You will never know these people, nor will you ever know if they truly exist or not. To you it doesn't matter either way, but to these people, it matters more than anything. Why not press the button anyway? This is how life works for the nihilist. If your actions truly don't matter in the long run, then where's the risk in making a positive difference? If you choose to do what makes yourself and others happy, then your life already has meaning. Meaning doesn't have to come from any Supreme Being, and that is where Vowell has it wrong in my opinion.

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Rhetoric

"I no longer believe in a Supreme Being in the sky producing cosmic episodes of Presidential Punk'd. So why does that Kennedy-Lincoln list still spark something inside of me? Why do I detect butterflies in my stomach every morning noticing how the headlines seem ripped from the McKinley administration?" p. 254

Vowell uses a series of rhetorical questions (not limited to those quoted above) to build anticipation for her delivery of the reason she studies this material at all. Once she reveals that the situations actually provide her some relief from the chaos of the world around her, readers feel more satisfied with that answer as the previous questions had piqued their interest. She built up the big reveal so that it seemed like a much greater revelation than it would have had she simply delivered it, which emphasizes her main point.

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Reflection

"Then, as now, optional wars are fought because there are people in the government who really, really want to fight them." p. 199

I have to say that I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment, unfortunately. I may be young and too inexperienced to fully the conflicts America has participated in in the Middle East, but I can say with certainty that they wouldn't be nearly as severe if the government didn't have as much to gain both politically and economically. History repeats itself over and over, and while there's always some catalyst that provokes war, the true cause is most what each country stands to gain from the war. Wars are good for the economy and good for the politicians who drive them, but I've rarely seen an unnecessary war benefit a civilian.

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Rhetoric

"That is how [Ida] passed her widowhood. She sewed a picture of her murdered spouse into her knitting bag and then spent the rest of her life in a rocking chair, crocheting four thousand pairs of bedroom slippers, seeing her dead husbands face staring up at her every time she reached for a new ball of yarn." p. 192

Vowell uses subtle personification to amplify the morbid image she creates of Ida's days following her husband's death. She says that the photo of McKinley 'stares' at her, though an inanimate photo cannot truly stare, to show how the memory of her husband haunted Ida and prevented her from living a normal life after he died. This personification, amplified by morbid language, causes a sense of shock and takes a heavy emotional toll on readers.

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Basic

"[Amy] phoned me, saying 'I asked Owen what he wanted to do today and he said 'Go look at stones with Aunt Sarah.' Do you know what he's talking about? What these stones are?'

I do. 'He means tombstones,' I told her. 'When you were off parking the car at the cemetery in cleveland, Owen and I walked around looking for John Hay's grave. Owen climbed on top of it and hollered, 'This is a nice Halloween Park!''" p.189

Yep, she's doing it again. She's bringing her toddler nephew to cemeteries, as if that's totally a normal place to bring children. So my question, once again, is if she legitimately thinks that this is acceptable parenting, or if she at least knows that sh'e probably influencing Owen in a negative way. And why is her sister okay with this? Is Amy now worried in the slightest that her child now wants to go visit cemeteries with his aunt? I suppose that this is just their way of bonding, but I just find it alarming. Oh well, at least the kid is happy.

(Also, I realized after I wrote this entry that it's technically not from this section. I was paying more attention to chapters than page numbers. Please don't give me a zero.)

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Interpretation

"And when the president's train stalled at the end of its seven-hour journey, the townspeople pushed Garfield's car all the way to its destination by hand. And then, after Garfield's death, after the rail spur was torn out, some sentimental local, someone like Joan, gathered the wood and built a little house out of it." p. 185

I was surprised by this ending to the chapter, albeit quite pleasantly. It seemed so out of character for the author, who prefers more blunt, even abrupt endings, to conclude a chapter in this manner. I find that this is her way of showing a more sensitive side of the topic of abrupt death to the audience. She is showing that while these events are tragic and senseless, one can wring some meaning out of it. Humanity always finds a way to shine through, which is a reoccurring theme in this novel. Vowell is showing the audience a positive example of this theme.

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Evaluation

"Grant doesn't get a memorial so much as a sprawling plaza of praise. The sculptural general turned president is all movement, where Garfield is, vigorous toe notwithstanding, still. On horseback, hat about to fly off from his speed, Grant is blatantly hetero, a giant, a blur. He's surrounded by his soldiers in battle, by four lions facing west." p. 179

I love the way she paints the scene here. I can picture the statue easily in my mind's eye when I've never seen it before just from her descriptive language and heavy imagery. Her words come to life, and the sentence itself seems to move as much as the statue does. I judge this to be good writing, as I usually do when it comes to Vowell's work in this book.

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Rant

"The same week Garfield was shot, one of Lincoln's charges, a twenty-five man Arctic scientific expedition, was en route to Lady Franklin Bay. ... After two years went by without supplies or rescue, the starving party abandoned their camp and retreated home. Only six survived. The survivors ate the dead men." p. 161

Okay, for once I'm ranting about the subject matter rather than just the writing style. How on earth could this negligence be allowed to happen? This man really allowed these men, men from his own country, to starve to the point of cannibalism in a frozen hellscape?The son of perhaps the greatest president America has ever had sure is a let down. I cannot believe that I never learned about the, whether from school or from any outside source. My dad would have a field day if I told him about this. He thought that Benghazi was a scandal? At least they didn't literally eat each other.

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Reflection

"I am pro-plaque. New York is lousy with them, and I love how spotting a plaque can jazz up even the most mundane errand. ... To me, every plaque, no matter what words are inscribed on it, says the same magic informative thing: Something happened! The gum cost a dollar, but the story was free." p. 159

I feel the same way about this, and I'm glad that someone finally put it into words. Whenever I'm out in the park, walking around downtown, or really anywhere in public, I find myself drawn toward any plaque that catches my eye. It could be something simple like 'This tree is dedicated to Martha Gresham" or something completely vague like that, yet I still want to know the entire history behind it.A plaque can symbolize anything from a single noteworthy event to a lifetime of achievements and memories. It's as if the world is a novel, and each plaque is a footnote that can lead into a novel of its own.

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Rhetoric

"Conkling's statue, by comparison, wears no such name tag. 'Roscoe Conkling' is all that's chiseled at his feet, as if to taunt, 'Don't you know who I am?' He ran this town, this state, this whole country sometimes, and now, standing catty-corner from a Dunkin' Donuts, the only attention he is paid is from the dogs and drunks peeing at his granite shoes." p. 152

Conkling's statue is personified as a living, breathing version of the man himself here to show how public appreciation of this person has deteriorated. Conkling is built up, then brought back down by the depiction of his statue and how it embodies him, from the cheeky chiseled name at his feet to the description of how the statue is defiled today. Vowell uses the image of a living statue to show the man and how his public image stands today as a footnote in history.

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Basic

"Written in 1741, Edwards' sermon describes us sinners as spiders the Creator dangles over the mouth of hell. 'The wrath of God burns against them, their damnation does not slumber, the pit is prepared, the fire is made ready, the furnace is now hot, ready to receive them, the flames do not rage and glow.' I love this sermon as literature because its diabolical lingo is so grim, so harrowing that it's almost cute." p. 149

Hey look, it's that sermon you had us read and examine in class! Look at you, being sneaky! This part has me wondering just how popular and widely known "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" really is. Can the average person spit out lines from this centuries-old sermon just as Vowell does here, or is this knowledge limited to English teachers, history buffs, and AP students? Since Vowell treats others as fountains of random information, she probably thinks that this sermon is common knowledge, and her attitude has me questioning if it really is.

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Interpretation

"Charles J. Guiteau is James A. Garfield's cracked mirror image. Both men were raised in the Midwest ... by a single, widowed parent. ... Both men were devout Christians who dabbled in preaching. Both men were born poor but longed for education and a better life. Both were ardent Republicans. And yet Garfield - dependable, industrious, and loved - was everything Guiteau was not." p. 136

Since Vowell is determined to get her audience to see historical figures for the people they truly were, I find this to be her way of convincing readers that anyone is capable of good and bad. By comparing these two men and pointing out the many similarities, she is showing that either could have turned out like the other did. She focuses on their humanity so that the audience will see them in a new light, one that reflects Garfield and Guiteau for who they both were and not how history prefers to portray them.

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Rant/Rave

"One winter night in my kitchen, as I poured peppermint tea into my friend Lisa's cup, she said that she liked my teapot. I told her that my happy yellow teapot has a kinky backstory involving a nineteenth century vegetarian sex cult in upstate New York........" (I'm sure you're familiar with the rest of this sentence.) p. 137

For the record, I'd like for you to know that as I was reading this paragraph, I read the entire second sentence aloud in my head and heard her saying it all hurriedly in one breath, then inhaling heavily once she had concluded. Once again, I'm not sure if I should label this as a rant or a rave, so I will call it both. Vowell is so frustratingly herself when she writes, and I am frustratingly entertained by it. The way she leads into new topics by addressing something completely outlandish and unrelated is maddening, and what's more annoying is how I'm certain that she'll manage to seamlessly connect each new detail together by the end of this section. Her personality is so glaringly evident here, and the fact that she writes in a manner that's so unapologetically her is as frustrating as it is commendable. I'm not sure exactly how I feel, but however it is, I know for certain that it is strong.

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Evaluation

"As Garfield left the podium, every scared kid in the room could probably hear the sound of the stock market crashing him back to his old room at his parents' house where he'd have plenty of free time to contemplate hanging himself with his boyhood bedsheets." p. 135

Once again, Vowell has written a one-liner that knocked my socks off. This sentence is such an excellent example of her writing because it is snappy, creative, and sprinkled with her signature pepper and personality. She concluded the sentence with a catchy example of alliteration, which packs extra punch into this sentence. I judge this to be great writing, even if the subject matter is slightly off-color.

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Interpretation

"Any old rich guy might warrant a marble tomb, an obelisk ,or elaborate scupltures after death, but you know you are regarded with a ridiculous, religious amount of awe when they put your dug-up drainpipe in a museum." p. 109

This part serves to remind readers that historical figures are no different from today's celebrities when it comes to how people collect tiny bits and pieces of their lives to put on display. Often I see stories of fanatics going to great lengths to obtain something their idol once owned or used, even if it's the smallest, most obscure object imaginable. This seems to be the historical equivalent of fighting people in the crowd for a band member's guitar pick or buying a famous actor's used tissues on ebay just to have something they once used. Vowell wants the audience to connect those two and see that the situations are not very different at all.

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Basic

"'She sighs, murmuring, 'I feel really bad for John Wilkes.'

'You do?'

'After reading his account of being hunted by dogs, of being so surprised by the reaction to what he had done. Plus, he's so cute.'

'Really cute,' I agree." p.96

Once again, I'm wondering is Vowell is fine with people just knowing that she's crazy. I'm assuming she is, as she deliberately chose to include this section. I just wish I understood how she's so chill with telling the world that she finds Lincoln's assassin and a violent white supremacist to be physically attractive and worth pitying. I respect her for being willing to put it all out there, and I even envy her openness, but that's just weird, even for a book that's dedicated to the gory details of presidential assassinations.

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Reflection

"I mention that I was disappointed that Mutter's Booth and Guiteau specimens don't show up on FindAGrave.com. Worden has never heard of my favorite Web site. A database listing the names, brief biographies, and burial locations of more than twenty thousand historical figures..." p. 95

This section, especially with her referring to the website as her favorite, reminded me strongly of my own father. He uses the same exact website and finds it just as fascination, much to my family's chagrin. I can't tell you how many times he's gone down a digital rabbit hole and shown me some distant relative neither of us had been aware of before. Though I try to feign interest for his sake, I just don't share the same morbid curiosity about the graves of my great-great aunts and uncles.

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Rhetoric

"Emma Goldman, anarchist Russian Jewish advocate of free love and birth control sounds exactly like pretty boy white supremacist murderer John Wilkes Booth." p. 89

Vowell is using verbal irony - with a dash of pepper - as she likes to do. A snarky tone peeks through as she sarcastically compares two polar opposites, Emma Goldman and John Wilkes Booth, to emphasize how different they are from each other as well as how ridiculous it is to try to compare them at all.

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Rant/Rave

"But I fear that the consumer who buys a Confederate flag coffee cup, which she will then put on her American flag place mat, is the sort of sophisticated thinker who is open-minded enough that she is capable of hating blacks and Arabs at the same time." p. 88

I chose to label this as rant/rave because I don't want you to think I'm a terrible person for only raving about this quote. Once again, Vowell has said something that made my jaw drop. The way she led up to the punchline of this sentence fooled me into almost a false sense of hope that she was about to give these stereotypical people the benefit of doubt. Still, she spoke exactly what was on her mind, the kind of thing that made me think, "She's right, but she shouldn't SAY it." Vowell is fully unapologetic about her opinions, which I fully respect and encourage. I'm thrilled that she says the things that few others are willing to say, and since I'm often more inclined to agree with her opinions, I thoroughly enjoy when she shares more off-color comments such as this.

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Evaluation

"Down the road, in Port Royal, we stop for breakfast at a roadside diner cum gas station where we experience both the best (ham and grits) and the worst (Confederate flag crap) the South has to offer. After I polish off my grits I examine the Confederate flag memorabilia for sale - the shot glasses, the baseball caps, "Never Surrender" mugs. I am enthralled with a hideous, huge music box/snow globe of Robert E. Lee that plays "Dixie" when you wind it. I consider adding it to my snow globe collection, but that would involve having it in my house." p. 87

This is such a great section because Vowell captures the feeling of being in a Southern diner and the tacky, vaguely racist kitsch atmosphere they exude. Anyone who has had the fortune (or misfortune) of stopping into an establishment such as this one during a road trip can relate to this passage, and the way she uses such descriptive language to bring the scene to life makes it even more personal. For these reasons, I find this to be excellent writing, and an even better example of the way Vowell puts personality into her writing.

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Basic

"This is where Hinckley shot Reagan in 1981. Because of the news footage of the shooting, I've seen that bowed rock wall in the driveway, heard the shots hundreds of times." p. 84

Since Vowell has lived through a presidential assassination attempt, how does this impact the way she thinks about ones in the past? It seems like her own personal experience must affect how she approaches ones in history that she likes to study. How does she connect this event with the assassination of Lincoln, McKinley, etc.? Does it make her any more sensitive to the matter or inclined to add a personal touch, or has this event just desensitized her to the violence? I would like for her to explain how this connects together.

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Rhetoric

"I know that a reporter who caught up with Mudd back home in Maryland after his release remarked that in Mudd's "Sunken, lusterless eyes, pallid lips, and cold, ashy complexion, one can read the words 'Dry Tortugas' with a terrible significance." And yet, right now, for the simple blessed fact that it is not a boat, Fort Jefferson looks as bright and fluffy as a hexagonal lemon meringue pie." p.68

Here, Vowell is using an antithesis to draw sharp contrast between the gloomy setting of the Dry Tortugas and a lemon merignue pie to exaggerate her negative experience on the way to the site itself. She compares the dreary location with something cheery and positive to show how happy she was to finally be off the boat as well as emphasize how terrible her seasickness was prior to docking at the Dry Tortugas.

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Reflection

"Thus do I, descendant of a racist, pro-slavery teenage terrorist, buy a copy of Dr. Samuel A Mudd Family Home Cooking from her, descendant of a racist, slave-owning, convicted assassin accomplice. It's a cookbook that contains recipes submitted by various Mudd granddaughters and cousins for dishes such as cherry nut bars and three-fruit marmalade." p. 65

To me, this part really captures how many Americans cope with our shameful history. Since America is such a modern nation, it's not easy to outrun the past. Sometimes I shudder to think that such terrible times in our history were really not that long ago. My own ancestors fought for the Confederacy, a cause I absolutely despise. Many people are inclined to keep this legacy alive, just like Mudd's great granddaughter in this scene. I prefer to cope in a different way. Though we should be ashamed of our past and strive to do better, there's no sense in pouring every ounce of our energy into correcting actions that were beyond our control, or worse, honoring a legacy that's harmed far too many. Many in America like to cling to our shameful history, but I prefer to let it go and keep moving forward.

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Reflection

"I'm stunned when the guide lets him in through the velvet rope and the rest of us, including his of course appalled teenage daughter, stand there listening to him bang out a choppy but vaguely familiar tune. After he finishes his song, I ask him, "Sir, were you just playing 'Lean on Me'?"

"That's right!" he answers, thrilled.

Now, whenever I think of Mudd and his house I hear that song, hear Mudd serenading the limping Booth, taking his arm and helping him up the stairs, singing, "Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend."" p. 62

This passage reminded me strongly of my trip to Washington DC in fifth grade. As we toured Mount Vernon and walked the same (clearly restored) steps that Washington had once tread, my experience was tampered with by my fellow meddling eleven-year-olds. I remember the sights and sounds of the house as much as I remember my friends pointing out every single squirrel to annoy our chaperones and giggling aout how the tour guide told us that Washington grew marijuana in his garden. When we visit historical locations, they become just as alive as the people we visit them with, and the memories start to bleed together. It really does add a personal touch to something that's difficult to relate to sometimes, which Vowell draws on strongly in order to bring these historical sights and figures to life in this book.

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Interpretation

""...historical guides often remind me of those modern painter who insisted that painting is first and foremost paint on canvas, not a picture of the world. A lot of house tours are about the thingness of things. ..." p. 54

This section seems to be Vowell's way of letting the audience know that she is aware of how superficial some of the things she travels to see are. She is aware that a lot of times, what she is viewing during her historical 'pilgrimage' aren't historically relevant, but rather more of a novelty. Her interest in history drives her to see these historical locations and allows her to enjoy her time there, but she understands how little value some of these attractions really hold. Though she likes to talk about how this is her 'religion', I see this section as Vowell reminding the audience that the places she travels to see won't mean too much to the average reader as they don't have much value to even her, an avid history enthusiast.

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Evaluation

"Listen. That room was so quiet. Of course it was. When the bullet dropped in such a quiet room, it must have been almost as jarring as the original gunshot. In less steady hands, the brain could have fumbled to the floor. Curtis stares at that bullet..." p. 51

I love this part of the chapter. It seems to contrast with the rest. She usually takes a nonchalant, often humorous tone when discussing the more morbid aspects of her interests, but this section seems more somber. It really drew my attention in and sobered me up to the material she was writing about. Before I had been laughing along with her as she joked about Lincoln's death, this this part brought me into the scene and made me see it for how serious it really was. For this reason, I believe that this is an excellent example of Vowell's writing.

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Rave

"...but if you are the Arabic-speaking cabdriver who drives her there and you are ordered to get out of the car to open the hood, the sweat starts to spurt off your forehead as if your turban is would out of a garden hose that just got turned on. Maybe the terror...is part of the medical museum experience: rattled and perspiring , once you finally get inside the cool dark building, you feel so lucky to be alive that the display about Civil War scabies seems less depressing." p. 49

This is exactly the type of writing that makes me enjoy reading this darned book. Vowell manages to bring every little detail to life like this. Her palette of imagery and rhetorical devices transforms her seemingly-dull historical escapades into something that I, a proud history-hater, will gladly and enthusiastically read. If my chemistry textbook was written in this style, then it's safe to say that I would score much higher than my inevitable 2.

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Rhetoric

"There was a lovely moment when Bill the tour guide...noticed a raw tree trunk waiting to be carved, and spray-painted in turquoise on the rings was the name 'Nathan'. It was like watching a Renaissance Florentine come across a chunk of marble marked 'Michelangelo.'" p. 38

Here, Sarah Vowell uses a simile to emphasize the significance of this by-chance event she witnessed while on her trip. She draws a comparison between an art history figure nearly everyone is familiar with, Michelangelo, and this Tlingit carver many are not as familiar with to highlight her enchantment with the event. since Vowell's fascination with what others may find disappointing is such a primary feature of this book, the way she uses the simile to capture this exciting moment and relate it to the audience in such an effective manner helps her to bridge the divide between her and her sometimes estranged audience.

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Basic

"I've seen Powell's grave. When my sister Amy and I were in Florida taking my nephew Owen to Disney World, we made a side trip to Geneva Cemetery. The whole reason I wanted to take Owen to Disney World is that I fear that someday he's going to look through his childhood photo album and wonder why all his vacations with his aunt took place at places like McKinley Memorial and Wounded Knee. And yet here we are. Powell's cemetery was just too close to Cinderella's castle for me to pass up." p. 41

So, obviously Vowell understands that her affinity for historical sites is considered out of the ordinary by most people. She has said so multiple times. Still, this part had me questioning if she really thinks that this obsession is normal or not. Is she cracking a joke when she says that this opportunity was 'too good to pass up' as if any rational person would make the same choice? I can't think of anyone who would just stop by a cemetery on the way to Disney World just to see a footnote of a footnote in history, let alone bring her sister and toddler nephew along. Does she really think this is normal? Or is she aware of how freakish this behavior really is?

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Interpretation

"Still, I dread bodily harm coming to the current president because of my aforementioned aversion to murder, but also because I don't think I can stomach watching that man get turned into a martyr if he were killed. ... In death, you get upgraded into a saint no matter how much people hated you in life." p. 8

When I first read this section, my jaw dropped to the floor. I could not believe that she had written that, and I believe that that was the exact reaction she was aiming for. This paragraph is intended to shock readers initially, but on a deeper level, it establishes an unapologetic tone. This section is meant to show readers that Vowell will not shy away from more controversial sentiments, and that she is staunch with her views. It's almost a warning for readers who weren't sure of what to expect going forward. After reading this, readers know to expect more edgy and controversial statements such as this.

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Reflection

"Now, a person with sharper social skills than I might have noticed that...these folks...probably didn't want to think about presidential gunshot wounds. But when I'm around strangers, I turn into a controversial Mount St. Helens. I'm dormant, dormant, quiet, quiet, old-guy loners build log cabins on the slopes of my silence and then, boom, it's 1980. Once I erupt, they'll be wiping my verbal ashes off their windshields as far away as North Dakota." p.3-4

I relate to this sentiment almost on a spiritual level. Around friends, I can act semi-normal, even if I tend towards the louder side. On the other hand, when I'm around people I don't know very well, I stay quiet and wait for my cue to speak. When I finally speak, though, it's always disastrous. I get so caught up in what I'm talking about that I ramble without paying attention to what complete strangers think, and they're never impressed. I can picture Vowell going on and on about presidential assassinations in this bed-and-breakfast while the other guests stare at her completely dumbfounded, because I've been in that situation so many times myself. I can relate to her social struggles and over-enthusiasm about oddly specific topics since I'm the same way.

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Evaluation

"One night last summer, all the killers in my head assembled on a stage in Massachusetts to sing show tunes." p.1

This was an excellent way to hook readers in from the very beginning. This sentence is so odd and questionable that it almost forces readers to at least finish the paragraph, which only gets odder. I am very impressed with this sentence, and I believe that it is an excellent example of Vowell's writing.