Success in “No Country For Old Men”




The portrayal of success is very hard to search for in a book such as, “No Country For Old Men” because it goes against the whole theme of the book which is good vs. evil. In the end, all the good guys die, which is spot on to true reality. It’s important to see this book incorporates its basis on what life actually is instead of tying a cheesy ending on to it. What the book is successful in doing is creating a very real and emotional sense to each individual character. McCarthy is able to do this by maintaining focus on only three characters known by the names of Bell, Chigurh, and Moss. The sheriff of the novel is Bell, who is after a serial killer known as Chigurh-chasing Moss. McCarthy captures Bell effectively (successfully) by telling us what it is like to be living in an era that has already moved on past his generation. It is a problem many of us face today as a society that has forwarded itself far beyond the 20th century. We are not reliant on our elders anymore and as the saying goes, “our children are our future.” Bell comes to a realization it is “he” that is the turtle in the race, and this time will not win. Times have changed. 

McCarthy is successful in creating his second character, Moss, on the level of morality. This is a character who stays true to his beliefs such as maintaining faithful to his wife in times of great trouble. In the Novel, Moss is away from his wife right from the beginning but keeps busy with other tasks. I remember one scene in the novel where a driver asks Moss if he “would like a ride in to town for a good night.” Moss proceeds to lift up his hand and expose his ring finger. Simple scenes such as this reflect every day situations I see as real, and much easier to connect to. 

The most important and final character McCarthy successfully portrays is Chigurh the serial killer. The reader is able to be shown visually through words the sick and twisted mind of the murderer. He provokes a different mind set which is interesting to perceive throughout the story. Something to the average person such as a “coin toss” is meaningless. But these actions will sometimes signify the killers next victim just for inconveniencing him in such a game.

I give credit to McCarthy to be able to pull of such different forms of character, how they reflect to one another, and the twists and turns each have to experience through association.

Success in Death Blog #4


It seemed to be all to real for me. It was something I had experienced before in a mysterious place. It was experienced in a state of mind most people only see glimpses of. But now it was becoming a reality. No fresh air, no light, no sound; no space. I embraced the only sense that seemed to have any importance to me-touch. I could feel the unfinished wooden planks that extended no more than half a foot above. As I rubbed my hand down the board, splinters bit into me as if I touched a hoard of red ants. I let them travel through my skin and reach into each and every one of my fingers. Drips of blood protruded from my hands and flew down on to my face. I let it cover from my forehead all the way down to my chin. It was like a mask…of someone I wish I could be, because I knew I would be gone in the next couple days.

Alive or not, my pulse was undetectable at the scene of the accident. My parents had wanted to get the funeral over quickly so they did not have to deal with as much grieving that other relatives had to deal with in the past. Unfortunately, life insurance had only covered me with an ugly wooden casket due to my young age. In the span of a day, I was being lowered more than 20 feet into the depths of Lovely Meadows cemetery. There was almost nothing to listen to. I could faintly here the distant vibrations from critters crawling on the surface of my casket. I licked the most distinct wood I would ever taste. Maybe I never knew what the taste of wood was like, but It made my tongue cringe as my taste buds met the fibers. My eyes were no use open or closed. Seeing the dark of night while both eyes were open and while they were closed was something very hard to accept. It smelled of negative energy. But the smell of negative energy is indescribable. It was a place I shouldn’t have been in…not yet.

Hours had seemed to go by, but I had no way of tracking time. I mentally tried to break down the physical barrier people of my own kind had put me in. I physically tried to demolish the mental barrier my own family had entrapped me in. Nothing seemed to work. All that seemed to be important in society fell to nothing in that box. Being alone as a human is something we don’t seem to fear until it becomes all to real. At first I felt sadness…then I felt nothing. Completely blank-just like the box I was in.

It may have just been so scary, because it was a thought I had repressed. It may have just been a barrier that couldn’t be fought physically or mentally. What it was was unknown. What my brain conceived to be reality was no more real, than what could have been taken for fake. This was a place all of its own. I had made it to the other side successfully, but what had significance in this place would have to be explored in a whole different perception.

How I Got Away With Murder

Success in Murder Blog #3 

Bullets trickled to the floor like a jumbled kids game of jacks. Hollow cases shimmered in the evening sunset. I counted 4 shells…but there could have been more. The number didn’t matter. What mattered was “he” was gone. I had succeeded. I briskly zipped up my .20 caliber rifle, and was off.

I had lived through a terrible college experience in my few years I spent at Harvard Medical School. My family wanted me to take after my father, but a doctor was not what I really wanted to be. Although, I remained in every science class until the end of that year. Books filled my room, along with personal information, to fill out internship applications to local newspapers-hoping to be granted my real opportunity. My roommate was quiet and kept to himself most of the time. He spent a lot of time in “that” room, and I tried to stay out as much as possible. Avoiding his presence is what I did. It wasn’t that I was provoked by him. I felt the need to give him just as much space as he gave me. I believed the whole point of a roommate was to not build a strong personal relationship between the two individuals. But, it almost was a way of letting him progress towards his goal.

I came back one late night from the library to see a look of shock on his face. Arms to the side, body fully erect, and his face flushed with a seemingly white color to it.

“What’s wrong dude?”


I spun a 180 and walked out that door again and decided I’d come back once again, still later. That time would never come, because by distancing myself all these months between him and I, “It” was able to obtain all my information. What made me-me…my identity. In a matter of a day, I quite fortunately dropped out of school, hoping to achieve my goal of finding that rat bastard and put him in his place. I knew why he wanted me. My father was in the hands of a whole medical corporation, hoping to send out a new drug in the next few months. And once that drug had come out, and I was done with my last year of schooling, all that extra money from sales and stocks would go to me-his son. Money was the only gift he seemed to be able to give to me. We didn’t have a strong bond, and this was his way of justifying our link together. What was rightfully mine, I didn’t even want. Money was being spent on an education I did not approve of…but I certainly did not approve of some stranger being granted this money that most certainly would be considered mine. And what was worse-he had everything to say who “he” was, was actually me.

Things were tense with my dad, and school, and law enforcement, so I decided to go about this mission independently. For years, copious amounts of money were being wired from my Dad’s business to “it”. Even when I tried to be productive, missed calls were all I received from him. He still thought it was the money I was after. Limitless amounts would be transferred over daily. Amounts I couldn’t even comprehend or know of, because I did not have the sources to be proactive in this type of situation. I was just a regular college student now broke from forgery, identity theft, and rent bills themselves. It all seemed like a blur at first… a gloomy haze that couldn’t be real. But 10 years had gone by without a trace of it.

10 years later…

I came home from work after a stressful day at the office, trudging to the steps of my one room apartment door. Everything seemed to be normal. All was quiet, but I seemed to still enjoy quiet to this day. I kicked the rust filled metal door and let it sway open as the gust of wind engulfed us both. I hoped to see lovely rustic furniture. Some mahogany colored tables, and furnished wooden floors. Something all that money could have finally bought me. There’s nothing like that sweet smell of wood bringing back memories from Mom and Pop’s house. Cheerful gazes would be given to me as I stepped foot in from school, and I usually would be greeted with a plate of food due to my Italian cultured background. But this was different. I did not even smell a faint lingering odor of myself. I dropped my bags, and bolted for the kitchen. Gun in hand, I crept slowly around the corner. Muffling sounds could be heard in my bedroom…the only other way out. “It” had already jumped, somehow surviving the two story fall. I knew what “it” wanted, and “it” was back for more…                     The door had still stayed open, being absorbed in by the gusts. I almost tripped out the door, but this time I would not lose. I furiously flew up to the third flight of stairs, which paved the way to the rooftop…overlooking the town. Although he was in a distance, there was no way he could get away now. He was in full view, as I knelt down and cocked back my firearm. This was it. Something I had seemed to be waiting for forever.

Bullets trickled to the floor like a jumbled kids game of jacks. Hollow cases shimmered in the evening sunset. I counted 4 shells…but there could have been more. The number didn’t matter. What mattered was “he” was gone. I had succeeded. I briskly zipped up my .20 caliber rifle, and was off.

Blog #2 Success

Success in Business-with my own touch


As I was pondering about what to write in my secondary blog, I stumbled upon this intriguingly designed advertisement. You know, those ones you sneer at on the side of your web browser. The ones that illuminate right as you have visited a new site. You try furiously to click away as they have bugged but one second out of your day. Yet somehow us humans let the little things get to us…But this ad happened to catch my eye. It’s beautifully crafted colors just happened to spark an idea, of a plan of how success can be found in business. It is almost like a blueprint of how a business should run and how it gets processed.

The first step: Create

You have a wonderful idea, but how can it be successful? Your plan should be to come up with the most unique of an idea as possible. This is your time to shine, and anything that goes down-you WILL go down with. This is your work of art. Use it wisely

The second step: Beautiful

You have created your work of art, now make it beautiful. You might say, you have already created your work… Wrong answer. YOU have not done anything. You have not stepped foot out into the business world as an owner at all yet. You have only gotten to step two in the process. I’m trying to reassure you in the most respectful manner possible…no harsh feelings

Step three: Website

Your rounding third base, and your art has become a beaut. If you’ve made it this far… well so have thousands of others. Nothing will set you apart until after the blueprints. Your business is just a work in the making, ready to be taken or copied at any second. Keep your work secretive and remember-one of a kind. Start networking, spread your idea through word of mouth and through the use of websites. You want people to be able to find you.

Step four: Go

You’ve reached all the bases and have taken it all with you. Now don’t stop…GO! You want to be able to run with your idea and don’t back down. A business is not just a business. You should be running right along side it. It is your partner, your friend, someone who only lets you down if you are not loyal to them. This is your one moment, your one opportunity, would you take it? Or just let it slip…