Though I don't post incredibly often, this peaks my interest. Following is the intro paragraph to an essay I wrote for school this year on "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", to provide you with an unbiased example of my voice through writing.
“You are a flaw in the pattern, Winston. You are a strain that must be wiped out... we are different from the persecutors of the past... We do not destroy the heretic because he resists us; so long as he resists us we will never destroy him. We convert him, we capture his inner mind, we reshape him†(George Orwell, 1984, P.210). McMurphy, the Winston of modern times, is exemplary of the struggle between modern medicine's apparatic air-raid, the combine, and the empiricism of human nature, rooted in our ontology. The goal of therapeutic practices in insane asylums is not in all cases to truly cure man of any psychologically based illness they may have, but rather to reduce the irreducible, to fit in a mold that which cannot be contained. But unlike the party in 1984, this cannot be done. Even when McMurphy was made complicit with the practices of the ward, he was not converted, he was forced to fit. Even when his shell was left meek and motionless, his method of resisting the combone could not be euthanized. It had already spread like a virus through the men on the ward, an illness which refused to be cured by any psychotropic drug the nurse could prescribe. Simply put, her attempt to keep McMurphy contained was a pathetic attempt to create a symbol of the man whose simple existence was death to the system. Even if they killed the messenger, the message continued to be told.