Monday, August 11, 2014

Progress: good or bad?

Given:

Do you agree or disagree that progress is always good? Use specific reasons and examples to support your answer.

The Sample Essay Draft Step by Step

1. Quickly generate a strong opinion.

My progress is neither good nor bad, and if it seems good, that's just an illusion.

2. Generate supportive body topics.

I grew up from baby-hood, but I am no better than I was as a baby--I could even be worse. Every bit of technology that came into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier. In my life, progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward.

3. Develop body details.

I grew up from baby-hood, but I am no better than I was as a baby. Sure, all I could do at first was lay there on my back and marvel at the red, yellow, and blue plastic fish dangling above my crib. Now I can drive a car all the way to Florida. But as a baby, I was all about fascination and people relieving my pains. I was happy with my life and blissfully ignorant of my cruel world.

Every bit of technology that came into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier. Clothes made me more sensitive to cold. Shoes deformed my feet and made my walk unnatural. Toys addicted me to more toys. TV substituted its dreams for my own. Crayons helped me reduce the world to a dozen colors.

In my life, progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward. For example, even though a hot bath feels like I am returning to the womb, a cold shower will toughen me better for the cold cruel world. Even though I can get across a crushed stone driveway faster in shoes, trying it barefoot brings every part of my body below my knees back to life. Playing with plants and animals I can eat sustains me in ways that tennis rackets and Candy Crush Saga cannot. The less I watch TV, the more my mind becomes my own TV. And the TV of my mind consists of trillions of colors.

4. Organize paragraph order and embed transitions.

I grew up from baby-hood, but I am no better than I was as a baby. Sure, all I could do at first was lay there on my back and marvel at the red, yellow, and blue plastic fish dangling above my crib. Now I can drive a car all the way to Florida. But as a baby, I was all about fascination and people relieving my pains. I was happy with my life and blissfully ignorant of my cruel world. (My body was primed for conquering that world, and if the plastic fish and plaster ceiling weren't there, I would have marveled at the sky.)

(But the fish and ceiling were there. And,) every bit of technology that came into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier. Clothes made me more sensitive to cold. Shoes deformed my feet and made my walk unnatural (me walk funny and fall down a lot). Toys addicted me to more toys. TV substituted its dreams for my own. Crayons helped me reduce the world to a dozen colors. (By the time I was five, I already had dozens of lessons to unlearn.)

In my life, progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward. For example, even though a hot bath feels like I am returning to the womb, a cold shower will toughen me better for the cold cruel world. Even though I can get across a crushed stone driveway faster in shoes, trying it barefoot brings every part of my body below my knees back to life. Playing with plants and animals I can eat sustains me in ways that tennis rackets and Candy Crush Saga cannot. The less I watch TV, the more my mind becomes my own TV. And the TV of my mind consists of trillions of colors. (By the time I was fifty, I had finally unlearned those dozens of lessons.)

5. Formulate thesis sentence.

Since I was a baby, every bit of technology in the name of progress that has come into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier, and for me the kind of progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward.

6. Draft introduction.

Have you ever felt betrayed by human progress? I've grown to always feel this way. Since I was a baby, every bit of technology in the name of progress that has come into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier, and for me the kind of progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward.

7. Draft conclusion.

I've made so much human progress in my life thanks to technology that I am too far ahead to remember myself without it. Oh, I can see a detail here and there, like how much more sense it often makes to use a broom or a rake than a leaf blower. Or how much even more sense it often makes to leave some decomposing matter right where it falls. And I have enough knowledge and experience to know that the noble savage is nothing but a myth and that my own progress is neither good nor bad, and if it seems good, that's just an illusion.

8. Proofread.

Have you ever felt betrayed by human progress? I've grown to always feel this way. Since I was a baby, every bit of technology in the name of progress that has come into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier, and for me the kind of progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward.

I grew up from baby-hood, but I am no better than I was as a baby. Sure, all I could do at first was lay there on my back and marvel at the red, yellow, and blue plastic fish dangling above my crib. Now I can drive a car all the way to Florida. But as a baby, I was all about fascination and people relieving my pains. I was happy with my life and blissfully ignorant of my cruel world. My new body was primed for conquering that world, and if the plastic fish and plaster ceiling weren't there, I would have marveled at the sky.

But the fish and ceiling were there. And,) every bit of technology that has since come into my life has made me physically weaker and mentally crazier. Clothes made me more sensitive to cold. Shoes deformed my feet and made my me walk funny and fall down a lot. Toys addicted me to more toys. TV substituted its dreams for my own. Crayons helped me reduce the world to a dozen colors. By the time I was five, I already had dozens of lessons to unlearn.

In my life, progress that steps backward is often better than progress that steps forward. For example, even though a hot bath feels like I am returning to the womb, a cold shower will toughen me better for the cold cruel world. Even though I can get across a crushed stone driveway faster in shoes, trying it barefoot brings every part of my body below my knees back to life. Playing with plants and animals I can eat sustains me in ways that tennis rackets and Candy Crush Saga cannot. The less I watch TV, the more my mind becomes my own TV. And the TV of my mind consists of trillions of colors. By the time I was fifty, I had finally unlearned those dozens of lessons.

I've made so much human progress in my life thanks to technology, however, that I am too far ahead to remember myself without it. Oh, I can see a detail here and there, like how much more sense it often makes to use a broom or a rake than a leaf blower. Or how much even more sense it often makes to leave some decomposing matter right where it falls. And I have enough knowledge and experience to know that the noble savage is nothing but a myth and that my own progress is neither good nor bad, and if it seems good, that's just an illusion.