On the GOP and other things.

(Warning: sort of R-rated)

I read Dan Savage’s column in The Stranger this week. The premise is thinking up different meanings for “Rick” and “Santorum”– ultimately giving way to “to remove the frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex with the tongue.” Lovely, no?

The column was hilarious, mixing biting quips with genuinely intelligent responses to political news and events. It brought to light some inconsistencies and hypocrisies in the words of candidates and their constituencies, while still making the point accessible to any audience.

Okay, so here’s the thing. I love that snarky leftist journalists are making light of these ridiculous right-wing politicians. I think it needs to be done. But at some point, someone needs to get real with this situation. The fact of the matter is that if any of these candidates are elected, we’re fucked. We have much bigger problems on our hands than “ha-ha, what else is funny about Newt’s name?!”

Personally, I don’t feel confident enough to write such a scathing exposé. But someone needs to get serious with this– and I’m not talking about the already dry newspaper writers (*ahem*). Please?

Advances in vocality

This blog has no set specific theme, and this is the reason: It’s because if it were solely dedicated to music, I wouldn’t be able to post thing like the following article… which actually, now that I think about it, has some musical qualities.

Apparently, there is very little science focused on studying the sounds that animals make. But wait, you say, what about all that hoopla about whale noises and dolphin clicks?

Ah, but those animals are alive. NPR covers this story about a French scientist, Marguerite Humeau, who is working on recreating the voice boxes of now-extinct animals, like Lucy. Lucy was one of the first chimpanzee found to have walked on her back legs, so scientists consider her one of the first hominids.

To recreate Lucy’s voice, Humeau studied available skeletal data from Lucy’s remains. As best she could, she constructed synthetic versions of the resonance cavities in Lucy’s skull. She even spoke to the Martin Birchall, a British doctor who performed only the second successful human larynx transplant on a California woman earlier this year.

…

“What makes the difference between a human voice and an animal sound? The difference is the brain, so we think before we talk. I mean, for most people.” – Humeau [how drôle]

So Humeau actually made physical representations of the vocal chords, then set up a system to have air pass through them at a set rate so that it would make the desired noise of the animal.

Lucy’s “voice” turned out somewhere between a groan and terrible saxophone playing.

Then, Humeau moved on to recreate the sound of a wooly mammoth. She actually met with the guy who helped Steven Spielberg with dinosaur noises on Jurassic Park.

See pictures of the recreated voice contraptions and listen to the full story here.

Good humor, bad taste? Bad humor, good taste?

Right now there’s a debate going on on TESCTalk, our school’s community discussion board carried out via email, about gender, transphobia, and the origins and connotations of the word “mother,” especially in reference to Mother Earth.

The discussion blows my mind because it’s opening me up to many diverse thoughts that I don’t normally come into contact with. I’m enjoying sitting back and watching it unfold.

I would like to reply, but I have several reservations about doing so, and the only thing I would have to contribute is the following anecdote. Please note (if you are from Evergreen or have any invested interest in such a discussion) that I mean this in every positive way possible and only in good humor. It is going on my blog right now rather than the forum because I am worried that some people would not recognize the humor in it that I do. The timing may be wrong for the larger discussion. But it’s all I can think about and I have to add it somehow!

This is taken from Monty Python’s “Life of Brian.”

REG: Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man–

STAN: Or woman.

REG: Why don’t you shut up about women, Stan. You’re putting us off.

STAN: Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.

FRANCIS: Why are you always on about women, Stan?

STAN: I want to be one.

REG: What?

STAN: I want to be a woman. From now on, I want you all to call me ‘Loretta’.

REG: What?!

LORETTA: It’s my right as a man.

JUDITH: Well, why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?

LORETTA: I want to have babies.

REG: You want to have babies?!

LORETTA: It’s every man’s right to have babies if he wants them.

REG: But… you can’t have babies.

LORETTA: Don’t you oppress me.

REG: I’m not oppressing you, Stan. You haven’t got a womb! Where’s the foetus going to gestate?! You going to keep it in a box?!

LORETTA: crying

JUDITH: Here! I– I’ve got an idea. Suppose you agree that he can’t actually have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody’s fault, not even the Romans’, but that he can have the right to have babies.

FRANCIS: Good idea, Judith. We shall fight the oppressors for your right to have babies, brother. Sister. Sorry.

REG: What’s the point?

FRANCIS: What?

REG: What’s the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can’t have babies?!

FRANCIS: It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.

Year 3, Quarter 3 and some questions about ethics

Last year at this time I was in France. I was on my second week with my host family, all of whom I loved dearly. I miss France terribly, but luckily I am so busy lately that I hardly have time to think about that.

I’ve been working more than I thought was possible– schoolwork, that is. I’m pretty much a despicable slacker when it comes to school, even when it involves my favorite subjects and things in which I have an invested interest. But in general, I have done pretty well with that major flaw– I have still accomplished a lot and learned a ton, made great friends and been able to continue relationships with teachers and mentors. However, I always wondered when all of that was going to catch up with me.

It’s not necessarily that it all caught up with me this quarter, but I certainly don’t have the freedoms that I did. I’m pursuing an ILC (Independent Learning Contract) this quarter with my advisor at the newspaper as subcontractor/sponsor. Her vast knowledge continually astounds me and I am really lucky to be working with her, especially since she is retiring after this quarter, which ends in June. But (and let me put this delicately…) this shit is fucking HARD. I haven’t worked so hard academically for such a sustained period of time in quite a while, maybe since high school, and I’m out of practice, to say the least.

My advisor has given me a certain amount of wiggle room in the past couple of weeks, but if I don’t figure out a time management system soon, there will be consequences and hell to pay. It doesn’t help, as I told her this morning, that I have a limited interest in information gathering and news journalism in general, and so far it’s difficult to get beyond the belief that I’m mainly just doing this contract for the benefit of my position at the newspaper. She maintains, however, that what I learn in this contract will carry through my entire life for the enrichment of my interaction with others and my own character building, and I believe her. I am going to stick it out and make the most of this experience.

The upshot of all this is that it seems like I’ve been doing a helluva lot of writing lately. I wrote a couple essays for…

oh wait, let me back up.

So I’ve applied to be the Editor in Chief of the Cooper Point Journal (the newspaper of the students of the Evergreen State College) for the 2011-2012 school year. I’m scared shitless.

That pretty much sums it up.

So I wrote a couple essays for that application, and I’ve written some papers about what I’ve been reading for my contract. I will post whatever I can here (if it doesn’t seem completely out of context).

Also, I would like your feedback on something, my dear, possibly fictional, readers: If or when I become the Editor in Chief, I will consider myself a journalist. Typically, journalists are advised to keep their own convictions and opinions under wraps, so that they don’t interfere with their ability to remain neutral with a story or an entire publication. The editor in chief needs to, in some ways, represent the integrity of their newspaper or publication, remaining neutral and impressionable on all fronts.

I have heard that journalists are required by the newspaper they work for to remove any and all political signs from his house or yard, remove bumper stickers, and not present any character-defining information or opinions online or in social networking media.

I have deleted a lot of information from my Facebook page and have considered deleting my Twitter account altogether. But the issue of my blog remains to be discussed. I can’t imagine not having this outlet, and I think it’s important for my creativity and my sanity for this blog to exist. But I haven’t thought much about how to keep it and still remain a credible editor. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated: should I delete the blog altogether? Should I keep it but make it private and only invite those I want to see my posts? I could make it private and encourage those who wish to see it to email me and I can invite them. Or should I just throw caution to the wind (because, let’s be honest, I don’t really express many opinions, let alone controversial ones, on this blog at all) and keep the thing?

And just out of curiosity, what do you all think of these unstated regulations of the impartiality of journalists? Are they legitimate? To what extent?

Untitled, for now.

Exactly one year ago today, I embarked on a nearly 4-month-long journey to France, Italy, and (though I didn’t know it at the time), Germany. I got my passport stamped 4 times. I had one of the most [prolonged] learning and growing experience of my life– a period during which I was enriched in new ways every second of every day.

Things haven’t come very far. If I was a junior again this year, I would certainly take the trip again in a heartbeat. I would do so with more insight to the process of traveling, more confidence with the French language, and more knowledge in general. However, I would do so with, hopefully, the same amount (or more) of open-mindedness and enthusiasm. How can we expect to learn anything if we aren’t willing to try new things?

I don’t think I was a different person while traveling than I am today. I don’t think I would be a different person in France if I were to be there again tomorrow (with possible exception to my host family– I regret not talking to them more and being so shy). But for some reason, I don’t think I have had the same open mindedness and enthusiasm since getting back from my trip that I had abroad. I guess, since I have command of the language, and I have a very reliable and independent mode of transportation, and I have an immediately accessible support network near me, I have not felt like taking risks… or I have not felt that every action is a risk.

To be clear, I don’t think that every action is a risk. That would be silly and paranoid. But I do think that a traveler needs to look at every experience as a learning opportunity, and approach decisions and situations with a certain degree of caution and wariness… mixed with a healthy amount of spontaneity and a carefree attitude.

I seriously believe that traveling well is an art form. I dare you to challenge me.

So, what I mean by treating every action like a “risk,” is that even in our home countries, where we feel very comfortable and grounded, we have not only the ability to, but also almost an obligation to, go about life with the awareness, caution, spontaneity, and carefree manner that we would if we were traveling. This should enable to learn as much as possible from everyday activities, as well as those activities that break us out of our comfort zones.

For the record, another belief of mine is that the fundamental purpose of individuals’ lives (as distinguished from the purpose of human life in general) is to learn. And yes, I also believe that the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. So shoot me.

Which brings me to my real point: I broke out of my comfort zone today. The thrill of it reminded me of traveling, which in turn made me realize that I was automatically treating my day of “first times” like I would have any activity in France: with awareness, caution, spontaneity, and that carefree attitude.

The activity: Shooting guns at a range with a couple guys I’ve known about two months.

I could write another whole blog post about how vehemently opposed I am to the use (misuse?) of weapons, especially for the purpose of harming or in any way endangering a human life. nuh-uh. Hell to the no. Until about a week ago, I’d scarcely picked up a gun, which meant that I had neither learned to shoot one nor learned how to behave around one safely. But… it also meant that I was pretty sure I was immune to that sort of thing. I think my thought process went something like this: “I hate guns and weapons of any kind. They are only used to do evil. If I learned anything about them I would be legitimizing (or at least recognizing) their power and influence in the world, and I just don’t think they should have any power or influence in the first place!”

Not much has changed. I do think weapons are used in entirely the wrong ways. I’m not even sure if there are “right” ways to use weapons, except perhaps for food gathering, with which I really don’t have a problem. Unless animals are endangered and unless they are domesticated, I believe the circle of life does need to continue. I respect vegans and vegetarians, but I am not one, and I don’t have a problem with killing game.

I’m still struggling with my own hypocrisy, but I think I have it somewhat figured out: Learning how to operate and be safe around guns is not wrong. In fact, in some cases I think it’s necessary, and I think that to not learn proper weapon procedures can be ignorant and foolish.

Long story short: because I have a couple friends who are equipped and well-learned in this area, I decided to spend a day under their tutelage. I fired more guns today than I thought was possible and learned more than I’d ever cared to know. But I cared to know it today.

It was odd, though. I’ve spent so long treating guns and people who shoot them as despicable, heartless bastards that it was incredibly difficult to amend that preconception. When I was watching my friends, and the moment I was attached to a gun, the entire process was fascinating to me. I asked questions and genuinely tried to get the hang of each model. I didn’t even mind when the recoil on one nearly put my eye out (alright, so I took secret pleasure in it). I was having so much fun. But as soon as I glanced over at the other people at the range, in their proper stances and with their hands wrapped around the cold metal I was coming to know so well, I could feel myself get angry. For what were they practicing? Were they also right-wing conservatives related to Sarah Palin? How many endangered animals had they killed?

Nevermind the fact that here it was, my first time at a range, on pretty much my first time even holding a gun– I was just entirely convinced that my friends and I were the only ones there with the right mindset about shooting. We were the only ones treating it as a sport, and nothing more.

And then I realized: I was everything that I detest about the “typical gun-owner.” He is male. He is a Republican. He is a military veteran or a military hopeful. He has killed not only game, but also his once-in-a-lifetime moose and bear. He has rugs in his house made out of their hides and several stuffed and mounted heads. He has probably even shot at a fellow human being. But most of all, the gun owner is suspicious and paranoid. He sleeps with a pistol under his pillow, just on the off chance that he needs to protect his wife (because of course, she will need to be defended by her husband). He trusts no one, and categorizes people in terms like “hippie,” “terrorist,” and “fellow Christian.”

Maybe it wasn’t the weapons I hated, but the stereotypical weapon users. Had I become one of them in such a short time? I assumed the worst of those other people at the range. I assumed the best of my friends. And I was the purest of them all.

You need to have a little bit of anger in you, I think, to be able to fire a gun. There is nothing wrong with a healthy amount of anger. And yet, your target can’t be a mental image of a human face.

You have to be extremely cautious when handling a weapon. And yet, at some point you have to actually point it at something and shoot.

You have to be a little carefree to be able to shoot. If you try to think of all the moral implications of what you’re doing at once, you’ll put much more than your eye out. You’ll go crazy. And yet, you have to be very conscious of what is going on with yourself psychologically.

Most of all, if you feel like you have to attack anything, attack your own beliefs, your own comfort zone, and your own insecurities. We’re not always forced to do so unless we’re put in a slightly compromising (or heart pumping) scenario like we encounter when traveling. Sometimes we have to make our own hurdles by confronting something we thought was pretty stagnant and challenging it.

Not that I’m in a position to give advice, but here is my last piece of it anyway: make new friends. I hadn’t done so in a l-o-n-g time, but this year it has exposed me to some incredible people and their amazing minds, talents, and humor.

When you’re home, friends can challenge you to be or do something you never thought possible. When you’re traveling, friends can make you feel like you’re home.

Thanks for reading.

Awesome-zine

It’s the first day of a new month. Do you know what that means? It means brand new magazines. BRAND NEW MAGAZINES! I don’t subscribe to any, since I move around so much, so I have to grab them when they hit the newsstands. Last month I got Filter, Poets & Writers, Rolling Stone, and a few others.

Atonin Artaud said,

There aren’t enough magazines, or if you will, all existing magazines are useless. We are appearing because we believe we are responding to something. We are real. This excuses us from being necessary. There should be as many magazines as there are valid states of mind. The amount of printed matter would then be reduced to very little, but this little would five the abstract and total of what should be though, or what is worth publishing.

All magazines are slaves to a way of thinking and as a result they despise thought. They all have the serious defect of being edited by several people. Thus they imagine that they are reflecting a state of opinion, when they are really only a grab bag. For there is no such thing as a state of opinion, there are various opinions which are more or less worthy of being expressed. But humanity is incurable. No one will ever present people from being sure of their own thought and suspicious of someone else’s; if someone who has a valid point of view wants to give it an audience, he has no choice but to start a magazine. We have a point of view that is worth expressing. Circumstances external to the fact of thinking correctly of incorrectly prevent existing magazines for accepting this point of view in its absolute nakedness. There are no free magazines; all magazines have what amounts to a creed. Thus we are choosing the only means of being ourselves and of being ourselves totally.

We will appear when we have something to say. When we think that we have an interesting view on a false way of thinking, or when an aesthetic or moral phenomenon seems to lend itself to discussion. This magazine will therefore be a personal magazine, interesting in that it will be the creation of a single individual, but we will welcome as guests those artists and writers whose work seems to accord with out state of mine, to illustrate it, or to relate to it in some way.

I absolutely adore that quote. I used parts of it when I did a magazine project for a class last year, and if I ever start a magazine it will be the creed by which I live and write and create. I don’t think that “all existing magazines are useless”– far from it. Many are superficial and unnecessary, but many uphold Artaud’s principles and are pretty collaborative and genius.

Personally, I think magazines are just the best representation of creativity in the world. The full-color glossies are the best (is “full-color glossy” the best phrase in the English language?!) but I’d take a black and white, crappily stapled zine, too.

Sai Guru Deva (or: An overdue homage to four handsome young men)

I woke up this morning staring at my “Abbey Road” album cover poster. I listened to “Good Day Sunshine” on my iPod, and I put on a Magical Mystery Tour shirt. Now, for fear of being ostracized by the Evergreen community for being too mainstream, I’ll assert my hipness: I do listen to bands you’ve never heard of, I own vinyl, and sometimes I even wear plaid. But my roots are with the Beatles, and most of the time I think I owe any of my good taste and creativity to them.

It started when I was 9. I looked over my parents’ shoulders as they read the paper and saw a picture of four very handsome young men. “Who are they?!” I asked. My poor parents must have thought they had failed as guardians and educators. “Well, they’re the Beatles!” they said. “Who are the Beatles?” I asked. Again, faces of dismay.

“They were a band when we were growing up, but they’re still very popular.”

“Were they bigger than Britney Spears?” (In retrospect, that moment may have been one of the lowest points of my life.) Their faces of dismay turned into faces of disgust. Britney Spears was pretty much the only contemporary pop star I knew about; I listened to music my parents listened to (motown, 90s adult contemporary like Randy Newman and Van Dyke Parks) but didn’t ask questions about who they were or to what era they belonged.

“Yes. They were much bigger than Britney Spears. They still are. They were bigger than Jesus.” My dad probably smirked as he said that, but I would have no idea what it meant ’til years later.

“Well, were they any good?”

My dad probably hesitated a bit. He would have wanted to remain loyal to the memory of the Beatles, but he knew in fact that some of their material was mediocre at best.

“The best,” my mom said.

Someone gave me a homemade CD copy of “1,” (still a bit obscure in 1999) and it was well-loved and scratched within a week. I didn’t know what the song titles were, so I made the track list up myself. When I checked them perhaps years later, some of them, like “Yesterday,” were spot on. Others were called things like, “Blue Suburban Skies,” “Christ, You Know It Ain’t Easy,” and “Back to Where You Once Belonged.” I pinned the original picture from the paper on my wall. And I started asking questions.

Suddenly all I wanted to know was about the music my parents listened to when they were growing up. Then all I wanted to know was each story that went with the songs. First they told me where they were when the Beatles arrived in the United States, where they were during that first Ed Sullivan TV show. That continued with every other “parent-era” icon I discovered: Hendrix, the Stones, Van Morrison, Heart, Supertramp…

But it’s with the Beatles that I’ve developed some of the best memories of my own. They’ve brought me closer to some of my best friends, and they’ve made me realize some of my worst friends. My best friend back home was Em, who was new to my school in 8th grade. Even then I think I knew that she would become a great person, but I never knew she was going to be my friend. By the end of week one, she had somehow proven her astounding knowledge of Beatles trivia, and I was not to be outdone. I swore she was my rival. That was the year my grades started to slip, and I focused on academics less. I’m not blaming the Beatles… but maybe it was the fact that I started making flash cards for their notable recording dates rather than my science class. Anyway, by the end of week two of knowing her we were best friends. I guess if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Eventually my passion led me to disassociate myself with some so-called friends. In 10th grade, this kid came up to me and said that his pastor had told him not to listen to the Beatles, and that they were un-Christian. Then he handed me a packet of quotes and song lyrics and famous musicians that his pastor (or something) had deemed sacrilegious (or something). It included some admittedly incriminating quotes by Metallica and Kurt Cobain, but there were also some lines by artists like James Taylor and Joni Mitchell. James Taylor and Joni Mitchell! “The secret o’ life is enjoying the passage of time” and “bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air”?!

At the time, I vowed never to listen to or intentionally befriend someone who didn’t like the Beatles, but later I realized it was bigger than that. I vowed never to listen to or intentionally befriend someone who was so literal and narrow-minded. I think I’ve done pretty well, with a few exceptions, but that’s not the point. Some people aren’t literal or narrow minded, and they just don’t like the Beatles like I do. And I’m friends with a few of those people, and I’m ok with that. They can snigger or shake their heads at the numerous Beatles posters to which I wake up every morning, and I’m ok with that.

They can say that “All You Need Is Love” is too contrived and unimaginative, but I can still love it and deeply appreciate the fact that it begins with the French national anthem.

They can say that “Good Day Sunshine” is too simple and too cheery, but I can still listen to it every Groundhog day, especially if there isn’t 6 more weeks of winter.

They can say that “the Beatles are bigger than Jesus” is irreparable and condemning damage to the reputation of what might have otherwise been a great band, but I can know better. The character in the movie “Pirate Radio” called The Count says, “there will always be poverty and pain and war and injustice in this world but there will, thank the lord, also always be the Beatles.” I can guarantee you that more people in this world have listened to the Beatles than have read even one passage of the New Testament. That’s not sacrilegious; that’s fact. And that gives me more hope that there may not always be poverty and pain and war and injustice in the world than to know that there are approximately 2.1 billion Christians in the world. Sai guru deva.

An attempt to analyze French cinema

I was watching a French film tonight and enjoying it enough, until I got very confused. Then I was frustrated, because I couldn’t seem to connect dots that seemed obvious. Why aren’t they sleeping together? Why did she just freak out and start going into a trance? Why does the son keep pretend shooting at stuff? Aren’t they even going to kiss? Why did a tertiary character just attempt to rape another tertiary character?

To console myself, I had to realize several things about French cinema. Take these with a grain of salt, please; there are many French movies I haven’t seen.

To say that French movies are symbolic is a gross understatement. Everything (everything) is a symbol. The weight of metaphors and symbolism in French cinema is so heavy that when you’re watching a French movie, if you want to get anything out of it, you have to almost disregard that there is even a storyline. If you don’t want your head to be fucked with, or if you aren’t interested in getting anything out of the film, or if you don’t know what metaphors and symbols are, go ahead and watch the French movie like you would any other movie out of Hollywood (Scorcese, Tarantino, Ang Lee, and Julie Taymoor excluded). Actually, if you don’t know what metaphors and symbols are you should probably stop reading this and go to the middle school I attended. Please.

Alright, so you’re disregarding the storyline. There are characters, sure, and they’re doing stuff and saying stuff, okay. What now?

Well, now you have to realize that you aren’t going to comprehend quite a lot of what is “actually” going on because of the language barrier. Luckily, I have a leg up in that aspect and I know enough French to where I can tell whether the translators did a good job with certain lines. In the movie I just watched, there were a few points where I actually gasped a little because I heard something in the dialogue that was definitely not in the subtitles. …I promise.

And that leads me to my next point, which is that most everything that matters is in what is not being said, or seen, or acknowledged. That’s why it’s important to not pay a lot of attention to the storyline or the verbalized characteristics of people, because the nonverbal is more important and more telling. For instance: If it comes across that a character is very proud, very purposefully mysterious, very heterosexual, and very fit, the fact that he breaks his ankle is insignificant. What is important is that his homosexual friend carries him home on his back.

If this were Hollywood, you would know (especially by the music, or by an awkward joke made by the heterosexual man) that this was a “turning point” in their relationship, or something, and that they would eventually be sexually intimate because of the supposedly platonic intimacy (i.e. “bonding moment”) they shared going home.

No, this is a French movie. No awkward jokes were made, there was no music, and the moment was not a turning point in their relationship. It did not lead to sexual intimacy. However, it serves to illustrate a humility and weakness that the heterosexual man had previously not felt or demonstrated. Also, his wife sees the scene and that creates tension.

Blah, blah.

In many scenes, there is a pool, and at one end of the pool there is a white neon sign that says “Il est grand temps de rallumer les étoiles”–”It is high time to rekindle the stars.” In the first scene where that sign appears, it is daylight so the neon is not lit, but one can still make out the letters. The subtitles do not translate the sign. Later, in another scene, the pool is shown at night, and the sign is lit. At that point, the subtitles translate the sign. It’s a beautiful phrase, but bien sûr–of course the words are purely metaphorical and absolutely inarguably there for a purpose, not just to be beautiful. The catch is that the phrase probably was meant to fit best in one of the first scenes in which it appeared, but you wouldn’t know that because you don’t speak French and weren’t able to translate it when it actually was pertinent.

There’s another scene with the same problem– one of the characters has been working on making stenciled phrases all over the walls, ceiling, and floor of his studio. When all these are shown, maybe a quarter of them are translated with subtitles. But the ones that really count are the ones that aren’t.

How do I know? Well, for one thing, I’m in school and have been a student of literature for quite some time. I’ve been a French student for quite some time, and I have also studied the French theater of the absurd. I also watch a lot of movies, and I also think too much. Voilá.

I also know the French, which is kind of ironic. The French don’t want to be known. I think half the reason French cinema is so weird and difficult to anyone who isn’t a complete foreign movie buff, Francophone, or lunatic, is because that is simply the way the French want it. The French love being exclusive, and I really believe that by making their movies difficult or incomprehensible, it’s a way that they can laugh at people in that very French way. You know what I’m talking about– Monty Python and the Holy Grail, anyone?! Seriously, that’s what it’s all about. They will sit at the top of a tower and laugh at you for ages. They will be very private and withholding and not let you inside.

I’m not joking. But… I am exaggerating. A little. At the end of the day, the French will share their chocolate with you (after sitting you down to tell you the history of it), and teach you new slang phrases that go against everything you learned in school but make you feel cool anyway (after teasing you about your proper textbook French), and they will tell you some secrets… after you gain their trust. Maybe one day they will tell us what their movies really are about… or maybe they’ll say “ha! Je vous rigole!”– the French “JK! LOL!”

Tell her she’s beautiful. Or whatever.

There’s this Facebook group or event that reserves a day for guys to tell girls they’re beautiful. The idea is that girls get themselves down so much, so this day is for building their self esteem. Supposedly, guys all think these girls are beautiful, but never actually tell them, so think day is for that.

There are so, so many things that are actually wrong with this idea.

First, straight men have too much pride to do this. Therefore, the only guys who will participate are men who are gay, men who don’t know they’re gay, and men who are straight but too sweet to actually take seriously. Those are the guys who won’t hit girls, are chivalrous, polite, brought up right, and all-out considerate to girls. They border so much on being gay that most girls (especially all girls who have ever had “daddy issues”) don’t think of them as straight or available, and sing they have “daddy issues,” they don’t think they deserve a guy like that, or the subconsciously want a guy who will treat them like shit. These are usually the guys that are so nice that they already tell girls they’re beautiful every day.

And since girls won’t date gay men, or these guys who are too sweet to take seriously, they are only interested in being told they’re beautiful by the guys who treat them like shit, and those are the guys who have too much pride to tell them they’re beautiful in the first place.

Second, that Facebook group is no secret. Girls know about it, some are in it… the point is, no girl is going to be surprised by a guy telling her she’s beautiful today. Since it’s all planned, girls will feel like the guys are just telling them out of obligation for the event.

Third, any rationally-thinking girl would be offended by this event. Why do men need a facebook event to tell a girl she’s beautiful, especially when the ones who count won’t even pay attention to it?

Optimism in Vogue

I can’t decide whether “waiting on the world to change” is pessimistic or optimistic–not as a song, but as a concept. When my mom first heard the song, she did not approve. She said, “why would we just wait for the world to change? What an odd thing to promote. You’d think people would get up offa their asses and actually do something themselves.” Okay, she didn’t quite say that. Anyway I told her, in absolute defense of John Mayer, that the song was supposed to be ironic. John Mayer was trying to tell everyone that we shouldn’t just sit around all the time and wait for the world to change. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I guess I like it.

The point is, it’s an odd phrase. Pessimistic because regardless of what John Mayer might have meant by it, it sort of implies that we’re at a complete loss as to what to do or how to accomplish what we think needs to be done about our world. But it’s optimistic because at least we know something needs to be done, and we know that change is good.

That optimism is hard to find lately. I’ve been noticing with my friends that sometimes we tend to only bond when we’re complaining about the same things or bitching together. When we agree, we agree and leave it at that. I hate it. I’ve even brought this up to a couple friends, who agreed that they found it frustrating as well, and then we started bitching some more about it.

What is wrong with us, that we can’t find joy in even the lowliest sparrow, and share that joy with others?

Why is it so easy to find things to complain about, when really there is an exponentially greater number of things that we could choose to find fascinating, outstanding, awesome (in the REAL meaning of the word), or touching?

Why is it that in thinking about this problem, all I can do is blame some people (like the media, for only reporting on negative news and issues)? Current events can be depressing, but why have we trained ourselves to never look at the subtexts? For instance, The Copenhagen discussions that have been going on about global warming– for a while, we were learning the facts about what was getting done. Suddenly the conference is over, and all we can do is talk about what didn’t get done. People don’t realize that we are so lucky to have come out on the other side of the conference with even more questions and topics at hand. For one thing, we’re strengthening our international relations. But also, it is so easy to forget that science is all about asking questions! When we did science experiments in middle school, the goal was to prove our hypothesis correct through our experiment. In high school, the goal was simply to explore more about our hypothesis. If it turned out to be right, we needed to know the variables that could actually make it true or false in difference cicumstances. If it turned out to be incorrect, we learned how to ask more questions to narrow down what might have gone wrong, what we needed to improve on, and what else we could consider for the future. The latter was so much more of a learning experience than simply proving ourselves right through the same steps that had been performed countless times before.

Why are we so afraid of asking questions and being unsure of ourselves? I do not operate under the belief that ignorance is bliss, but rather, that the road to enlightenment is paved with doubt, and the only way to recover from that doubt is to be optimistic. And the only way to be optimistic is to have hope. The only way to have hope is to have faith in humanity. The way to have faith in humanity is to have faith in yourself, as a member of humanity who will make a difference. And the way to have faith in yourself is by being the change that you wish to see in the world.

Be.Love.

“You’ve Got [a new blog entry]“

[Warning: Plot spoilers!!!]

There aren’t many movies anymore that are predictable but still as entertaining and touching as ever. If you’ve ever seen “You’ve Got Mail,” you probably saw the ending in the first five minutes, but it doesn’t matter. You still get really tense when Kathleen is mean to Joe, even when he knows who she is.

And your heartbeat still quickens when he makes so many insinuations to her relationship with “that guy you know from the internet” and we alllll know that he IS that guy!

First of all, I have to say that I LOVE that I have the exact same haircut as Meg Ryan in this movie.

Second, I LOVE the soundtrack. Harry Nilson and Randy Newman ALL the way!

But when the flirting really starts, which isn’t even until like the last 15 minutes of the movie, it is glorious. They talk about this man who she thinks she hasn’t met, and in reality he is right there. They talk about everything they’ve said online, but she thinks all these topics are new, and he knows everything they have both said.

Her interest peaks as he continues to say coincidental things, and he critiques this guy… And then they talk about their relationship as enemies, friends, or lovers, then go on their separate ways… Just after he practically tells her he loves her, makes her all confused, and tries to manipulate her into liking him better than the “other guy.”

Little does she know, of course, that later that same day he will be rounding the same corner…

Ahhh, and then there.he.is. His golden retriever, Brinkley, bounds ahead of him, and Harry Nilson sings “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and she starts crying, and he says “don’t cry, Shopgirl, don’t cry,” which is actually a really corny line but it works in this instance, and she says, “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly,” which is correct grammar, so good for her.

Anyway, “You’ve Got Mail” is old. It’s ancient, in fact. It is so old that their computers do that dial-up beep-beep-beeeep-boop-boop-boop-beep-chssssshshshhcccchhhhhhskskkkkshshchhhhshschchshshhhhhh noise before logging into AOL, where a cool male voice would say, “you’ve got mail.” It is so old that people actually emailed, and knowing someone just through the internet was considered very new and different.

But now, it’s one of those movies that skipped “old” in the genre scheme and went straight to “classic.” As it should.

Love? Love. Live.

Ok, so there are some songs that make you cry, right? “Let It Be” is one of those for me, as is “Imagine.” That’s why, even though I love love love those songs, I don’t listen to them very often.

But, have you ever just loved the experience of listening to music so much that it just made you want to cry? Maybe I’m just overly emotional, but that’s what The Mountain Goats are doing to me.

Two nights ago, I liked tMG a lot. I’d listened to probably 30-40 songs of theirs, and I definitely had a few favorites memorized. I definitely liked them enough to spend $20 on their concert in Seattle, but was unfamiliar with them enough that I would have second-guessed getting that ticket if I knew that it would really turn out to be over $30.

I didn’t think John Darnielle was particularly attractive.

I even have to confess that I didn’t like his voice all that much most of the time.

Also, one of my two favorite songs was pretty much their most famous single, which always makes me feel like a bad fan, because I always feel like I should know more obscure material, especially if I like the band enough to go to one of their concerts. It’s like how die-hard Jason Mraz fans (such as myself) hate it when people who only know “I’m Yours” go to his concerts. I want to tell them to sit down, shut up, and listen to Curbside Prophet.

Anyway, there’s also a ton of tMG history that I am still not familiar with. Like John Darnielle’s time in rehab… or even his age. I don’t know if it’s weird that I don’t want to go to someone’s concert without knowing this stuff first, but it’s true. I felt especially bad going with someone who knew everything and was just about as mesmerized as a person could be.

I’m not really sure whether to make this long story short or not.

There’s so much that I could say… about the openers, the crowd, the songs, the performance, John Darnielle, my friend’s bordering-on-religious experience (he’s probably so euphoric that he won’t eat for days…), about how they played my absolute favorite tMG song, “Love Love Love.” And actually, he played my other favorite song also, “This Year.”

Here’s the setlist:

[band]
1. 1 samuel 15:23
2. letter from belgium
3. isaiah 45:23
4. cotton
5. romans 10:9
6. love love love
[john]
7. orange ball of peace
8. sign of the crow
9. woke up new
10. thank you mario, but our princess is in another castle
11. 1 john 4:16 [w/ final fantasy]
12. going to fucking bristol [w/ owen pallett on violin and john on vocals; no guitar]
[band]
13. hebrews 11:40
14. hast thou considered the tetrapod
15. psalms 40:2
16. against pollution
17. this year
[break]
18. ezekiel 7 and the permanent efficacy of grace
19. no children
20. the best ever death metal band in denton
[break]
21. see america right

And ever since I saw this concert, I don’t really know what to do with myself. Granted, it’s only been about 24 hours, and I’ve kept very busy, but still. It was an amazing show… and I don’t really know whether to laugh, or cry, or just listen to their music continuously, or hold off on listening to it to savor the memory, or what.

Some moments last forever, and some flare up with love, love, love.

Observing Ghostland

I don’t think it’s possible to describe a laser light show to someone who has never seen one, but I’m going to try anyway.

Saturday night was the first time I’d gone to a concert where I had no idea who the headliners were or even really their genre. I didn’t pay for the ticket, which is a plus, but it would have been worth it even if I had. I was a little bored waiting for the show to start, but there was a DJ and it was a woman, which was cool to experience.

For …various reasons, I was pretty apprehensive once the show was about to start. We were right in the middle of the crowd, and I was terrified that the scene was going to turn into a mosh pit and we were going to get trompled and stepped on, and I was going to get sick and hot and miserable. My friends said, “it’s not that kind of show.”

Then the music started, and it became a little more clear that the crowd wasn’t going to be such a problem… but was the music going to be too loud? I was a little afraid that it was going to be a little too intense. My friends didn’t say anything– they were pretty wrapped up in the show, being the ones who actually knew what they were hearing.

Then… the laser light show started. My breath caught momentarily and I got nervous about getting sick again, but then it was too cool to miss by being sick, so I decided not to be sick, and instead to immensely enjoy this new experience.

Ghostland Observatory played for maybe an hour and a half, and it was the fastest hour and a half concert I think I’ve ever been to. I don’t remember being at a concert where I liked the music less, but wanted it to go on more.

It’s not my favorite genre, I must admit. It’s sort of electronica/rock/experimental, which I generally have very little patience with. I’m not sure whether the light show is what made it amazing, or just my state of mind, or what. I got home and tried to listen to the band on eMusic, and I could barely get through one song.

I don’t care. From now on, I have a resolution to broaden my horizons, even if it pegs me as a hipster (which, actually, I take a forbidden pleasure in–and I think that means I don’t really stand a chance of being a hipster anyway).

Are You Onboard?

I just discovered a great new artist, Eric Bibb. His style is a right-on mix of folk, blues, and gospel, without being boring, too roots-y, or too preachy. I came across his website by way of StumbleUpon, which is another newfound joy that may just deserve its own post later. So the first song I heard, which came up instantly on the website, was “New Beale Street Blues.” It was such a great introduction. It reminded me a little of New Orleans (even though it’s about Memphis).

Besides having a great style, his songs and the album I downloaded (and frankly, the only one I have listened to) are very smooth. Not in a lame “smooth jazz” kind of way, but in a way that flows extremely well. He has a beautiful voice and his guitar work compliments it perfectly.

iTunes categorizes Bibb as Blues, which I would say is correct. I was a little worried that he would be pegged as gospel or Christian, and I don’t think his style exemplifies that slant all the time. Even if this isn’t the sort of thing you’d normally check out, I would look him up on eMusic or just at his website.

I have downloaded “Get Onboard” and “Natural Light,” along with only 9 tracks of “A Ship Called Love,” because I ran out of credits at eMusic (and already bought a booster pack today for the first album. sigh), and I highly recommend all of them so far. I will say that “A Ship Called Love” seems to have a little weird drumwork… a sort of monotonous, Stevie-Wonder-esque new age-y-ness. But other than that, I am very much enjoying it all. Plus, all the song titles are great, and in my book that goes a long way.

The News That Matters

“EMI and Apple Corps have announced they will be releasing a limited edition apple-shaped USB drive containing all 14 of the remastered Beatles albums as well as artwork, documentaries and other extras.

On 7 December, 30,000 of the drives will go on sale for £200 each.”

 

 

http://digg.com/d3196aj

Like She Was a Guitar: A Review of Tom Felton’s EP

This is a complete, comprehensive review of Tom Felton’s EP, In Good Hands. All 6 tracks of it. It’s not one of the ones by Feltbeats, just the one Tom Felton released on March 10, 2009.

To see where you can obtain a copy of any of Tom’s works, see the post below this one, “Re: Tom Felton: Where to Find…”

(*)*(*)*(*)*(*)

Tom Felton's EP: "In Good Hands"

At Face Value: There is nothing missing from the cover of this album, except perhaps color. But who needs it? You can’t really tell whether it’s water or grass in the background, but it looks very fluid. I think that’s what counts, picturesquely speaking. You get Tom’s guitar, his signature baggy sweatshirt, the sturdy tree, and the dangling leaves in the foreground. And then there’s something metal, like a tool or something, in the tree. Don’t quite know what it is, but it looks very rustic. It’s like you’re catching Tom on a typical day, except that we all know that Tom, on “a typical day” is surrounded by Potter pals.

Track 1 “If You Could Be Anywhere”: I love the way this song starts. It almost sets you up for something different; that first bar of music sort of asks a question, perhaps “where would you be?” What follows is energetic strumming and a not-so-intricate picking style that comes in a bit late at times, cluing fans in to the fact that really, he’s just having fun. At least for now. I’m going to pass over the incorrect grammar of “where would I fly to?” and move right on to… who is that lady in the waiting room? The strangest part of this song is the sort of sighing in the background. At some places it’s pretty clear that it’s a supplemental sort of harmony part, but at others it just sounds… maybe like a mimicry of Tom’s biggest fangirls? and who is that lady in the street? My favorite part of this song comes at the very end, with the harmonica–simply superb.

Track 2 “We Belong”: I’ll be honest: at first I thought it was going to be a cover of the Pat Benetar song. It’s not, of course. That said, there’s not much I can say about this song. It’s a pretty sweet love song. I think the drums are a little much at times, and again, the sighing background vocals are distracting. I like the lyric “we belong in the sands of the sky” the best in this song. Perhaps it’s just because I’m a cynic, but the song gets a little too sappy about halfway through. If I thought it was actually a parody of itself, like Jason Mraz might produce, I might stomach it a bit better. And indeed, the “you are the reason why…” bridge is reminiscent of some of Mraz’s work. “You are the reason why I won’t be sleeping tonight” is amusing… and it just gets a little too sweet after that. Also, he references his own song, which is a technique I’m not too thrilled about. Still, it’s a song that fangirls will like to listen to and pretend he’s singing to them, I’m sure.

Track 3 “When Angels Come”: Like the emphasis on the upbeat at the beginning, and also the slight falsetto throughout the song. Unfortunately, I have the same complaint with this song as the last one. “Makeup was designed for other girls to try and look like you.” Really, Tom? I have to wonder if he’s even talking about his current girlfriend, because really, who is she trying to look like with all that makeup? But I digress… I do like that he actually warns us that he’s not going to leave anything out about what he likes about this girl– “my words no longer cautious.” At first I also liked the idea that he was incorporating angels… but then it’s only to compare them to this girl, and it turns out that his girlfriend wins. And not to go completely Jesus-freak on everyone, but is that really realistic?

Track 4 “Convinced”: Ok, I have to reveal a pet peeve here: beginning a song with “and” or “cuz.” In all of Felton’s work (including his 3 other EPs under Feltbeats) he only does it about 3 or 4 times, but for some reason it made a big impression on me. So, barring that, this is one of my favorite songs on the EP. It’s actually quite hilarious. He has “makes you want to vomit” rhyming with “change the channel, nothing’s on it,” and for some reason those lines make me laugh every time I hear them. However, the line after that, which I believe is “it’s all ri-i-ight,” is exactly the same as “I’m yo-o-ours” from Jason Mraz. Catchy, but already used, Mr. Felton. (I know I’m picky, but “I’m Yours” was a huge hit everywhere, and this EP came out at least a year after “I’m Yours,” so he might have switched it up a bit…) I’m a little biased toward songs about honest girls, and this one is no different. I like the idea that “she’s as honest as can be; that’s why I’m convinced when she says she loves me.” I like the faded out guitar part.

Track 5 “Father of Mine”: [*Ahem*, bear with me here.] I like the opening guitar part. It sets the song up very well, and is extremely different from the other songs on the album. And after that… well, after that comes what I think is supposed to be a very touching song about divorced parents. First of all, I (fortunately) cannot relate to this subject at all. But I must give Tom kudos for singing about such a difficult subject and bearing his heart. Seriously, that takes guts, especially for someone who is known for his role as a “tough-guy.” As a singer, I can’t help noticing that I’m pretty sure he’s flat in a couple of lines, and I almost can’t tolerate the “father of mah-hiiine” whine. I guess in general, it’s just a little too specific. Its tone is a little too sad and it doesn’t make up for it with any biting cynicism or sarcasm or making fun of itself. I won’t lie: it makes me uncomfortable, for more reasons than one: My final issue with this song… it reminds me of Lucius Malfoy. Someone could write a parody of it and insert “Dark Lord” every time Tom said “divorce,” and poor Draco would easily be singing about his father. Please, Tom, put that on YouTube and make this song worthwhile!

Track 6 “If That’s All Right With You”: This EP goes out with a bang. This is my favorite track by Tom Felton, out of all of his EPs, and it gives me happy vibes every time I hear it. I love that it starts out with a kind of docile sound, with just quiet voice and guitar, and then it builds with a bit of drums, the vocal gets louder, and more drums, and he…! I really don’t want to give it away. It’s a bit surprising, considering every other song Tom performs. I love that it’s a bit rowdy, but with this underlying timidity: “I’ll kiss you on the lips… but only if that’s alright with you.” And, ok… if I was the girl Tom was singing to, I’d rather hear this than hear that he would tell all the angels that I was prettier than they are. The other best part about this song is the line “I’d hold you in my arms like you was a guitar.”

And just like that, just like the actual CD itself, the music comes full circle. On the album cover? Yes, Tom holds his girls like they’re guitars and he holds his guitars like they’re girls. And whichever he happens to be holding at the time, she’s in good hands.

If I Could Be Anywhere…

I brought it to my attention today (since there’s no one else out there to do it) that I haven’t been writing about music enough. Well, that’s because I haven’t been listening to very substantial amounts of new music. New singles from people I’ve never heard before every now and then, but not full albums.

However, I have been doing some YouTube touring, and call it cheesy… but I found something worth reviewing:

A channel belonging to Tom Felton (who plays Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies, of course). It’s titled “FeltBeats” for his band, or just his production name, or something like that. He only has 4 videos, but he has an EP that is available on Amazon. And get this… he’s actually quite amazing. Not just saying that because he’s the most well-dressed character in the latest “Harry Potter.” He’s actually quite a good singer, as well as an adequate guitar player (not that I know how to judge guitar playing, but); I thought his playing accompanied his voice and lyrics very nicely. His words were heartfelt and charming; from the 4 songs on YouTube, I didn’t think they were particularly clever, but for debut work? It’s something special.

It’s even more fantastic that he’s seriously considering pursuing a career in/an education in music. It’s not hard to tell that he could easily have a following and new life as a musician, and I think he would also have a good presence as a performer and entertainer. He definitely has the acting background for it, and he has shown comfortability with a camera and in front of audiences, on YouTube and in press conferences and the like.

In case you haven’t checked out the link of Felton performing yet, I’ll debrief you:

The videos begin like many amateurs’ do; you see someone’s arm retreating from the webcam button. The first thing I noticed was the sepia coloring, which I think is a unique touch. Then, the scene [probably Felton's bedroom (ooh)] is revealed, and we see he’s lucky enough to actually have some pretty good equipment… microphones, a couple guitars in the background in addition to the one in his hands… He wears his signature polo or striped shirt/sweatshirt and a smile.

Yes, the sound and picture are a little mismatched in a couple of the videos, but one hardly notices because Felton’s confident-yet-bashful grin would tell anyone that he just.doesn’t.care. He knows when he makes mistakes, but he doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s a testament to his character that he puts these videos up, daring fans to disown him for a few chord errors or the times he almost forgets to sing. Of course, his fans would never do such a thing. If anything, they grow more and more in love with Tom with each amused “oops” smile on his lips.

“If you could be anywhere” would definitely be his single, if he ever released one. he has edited the video and overdubbed himself, so he’s strumming in one layer, picking in one layer, and singing melody in a couple layers (I don’t think he harmonizes with himself). Toward the end, he even adds in a harmonica riff, which he plays passionately well. If I had any misgivings, it would be that this song (or the portion in the YouTube video) is extremely short.

As he fingerpicks his way through the feel-good melodies on all these songs, we think, “Draco who?” The nasty Potter arch-rival is nowhere to be seen–there’s not even much angst in the lyrics, just clear-headed optimism.

Actually, the Feltbeats videos are rather difficult to critique. If it seemed like he were putting himself out there for a reason, as if saying “look, I can do more than act in family movies,” then we might be able to tell whether he was doing a good job. When Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) did “Equus,” the play in London, he explicitly told the media something like, “I want people to know that I can act in different genres, and that I have a future as a different kind of actor.” Admittedly, Radcliffe got excellent reviews for “Equus” (maybe partially just because everyone who went saw him naked, so he may have been mainly praised for sheer confidence in himself… which also goes a long way, but I digress…), but he set out to prove something.

Nowhere have I read anything from Tom Felton that implied that he was making music for any reason other than his own pure enjoyment. And no one can be faulted for that.

If I could be anywhere, I would be on the Feltbeats YouTube channel. : )

[@feltbeats and @TomFelton are both excellent follows on Twitter; look them up!]

Yoko Oye.

I also follow Yoko Ono on Twitter, which was an embarrassingly huge step for me. It has taken me years to recognize the profound love than she and John shared, no matter how much it may have negatively affected John’s other relationships.

Anyway, I love it when people recognize that the first step towards peace is letting people know it’s out there. Peace exists; let us find it within ourselves first, and then learn how to spread it. Yoko, at least from her Tweets, seems like that kind of person, and I can really respect that. Plus, whatever she’s doing for “art” is a step in the right direction, so I want to praise her for actually trying.

Come to think of it, [and please excuse the shameless way I say "we" through all this, as if I were there], I have a few things for which we can at least recognize, if not praise, her.

• Dealing with all of us Beatles freaks who wanted to do very un-Lennon/Ono-like things to her. People have been against her since the day she stepped into John’s life and came out of the woodwork. A part of me thinks that the world wouldn’t have reacted half as strongly if John had settled down with some gorgeous American blonde bimbo, just because it would have made more sense. After all, those were the “type” he’d fallen for before. But then came this Japanese slice of nothing, and suddenly he was head-over-heels for her. And instead of shaking our heads and sighing and just being happy for him, we were outraged. Not only were there tons of things wrong with her… there was nothing right about her! What did he see in her? blah blah blah. Then, to top it all off, The Beatles just *happened* to break up, and regardless of how much influence Yoko had over that in the studio, there was no mistaking the fact that John was obviously distracted and otherwise engaged. But… well, there is no “but.” The break-up was an absolute tragedy. If there was some good light about it all, though, it would be that John was [apparently] happier than ever. And as long as he was still making great music, we should have been thrilled that he had found love.
• Dealing with John’s passing as well as she did. I cannot imagine her devastation, and frankly I’m impressed that she was able to pull through it (especially since she sort of had to carry the weight of the rest of the world’s mourning as well).
• Pushing the boundaries. Since I haven’t really warmed up to her for very long, I haven’t seen any of the work she’s produced. I’ve heard about some of it, though, like the 8-hour video of a fly crawling up a naked woman’s body. You can’t tell me that had been done before. Yoko pushed the boundaries of art in a way that the Beatles pushed the boundaries of rock. …Ok, maybe not that much, but both are an inspiration.
• Staying in the public eye. I used to hate her for this. Why couldn’t she just disappear back into the woodwork from whence she came, so we wouldn’t have to deal with her always talking about how amazing John was and what her new project is? In fact, I think we all sort of wished she’d shut up altogether–about peace, about art, about the Beatles, about herself… I don’t really know why. Maybe because even though we’d had 10 or 11 years, we hadn’t quite gotten used to her. Maybe we were hoping that John would get bored and call the whole thing off or make it an extended fling. But she ended up his widow, and she wasn’t going to let us ignore that.

“Oye” means “listen” in Spanish (correct me if I’m wrong–I took French), and I think Yoko deserves that from us. She’s pretty much the closest remaining piece of John that we have; maybe we should cherish that. After all that she’s been through, she hasn’t turned bitter and she’s still preaching John’s message of peace. Far from excommunicating Yoko Ono, let’s join her in wanting war to be over.

Illuminating Ruminating

[This article was originally a continuation of the post below, TwitterBurger.]

I can’t help it; I love looking at every single one of people’s Tweets. You never know what you might miss, I suppose… and some are really quite profound or inspirational. Take this, for example: I follow Deepak Chopra (if you don’t know who he is…look it up), and he has some really amazing quotes. Today he Tweeted: “We have fallen into the place where everything is music. -Rumi“

I would imagine that this has something to do with Rumi’s general teachings (I had to look this up too): He believed that he had been disconnected from his creator and had begun to think himself above it/him/her, but that he had the ultimate goal to reconnect with his primal roots and restore that relationship.

So at first, the quote that Deepak Chopra Tweeted seemed a little… derogatory, shall we say? towards music. If we have “fallen” to that place where everything is music, it doesn’t seem very positive. It makes me think of falling from grace, or “falling” as a sort of failure. So despite my unconditional love for music, my conclusion was that perhaps Rumi saw music as monotony? To say that “We have fallen into the place where everything is monotonous” would make much more sense, since monotony isn’t really something we strive for, and it could definitely be said that our world has become monotonous (despite all the Twittering).

However, even my extremely rudimentary Rumi research through Wikipedia told me that Rumi was anything but skeptical or pessimistic towards music. Apparently, he wholeheartedly believed that music was one of the best ways to get back in touch with his creator or God.

(At this point I must stress that if you know anything about Rumi, please tell me, because I’m completely at a loss and I’m a little distrustful of Wikipedia sometimes.)

Anyway, Wiki says that Rumi thought poetry, music, and dancing were the ways in which people were most spiritual and soulful. The idea of “whirling dervishes” (which I always thought were a kind of garden ornament) originated around Rumi’s time. They were so invested in the sounds that they would move in whatever way the spirit moved them, which often resulted in spinning. Pretty soon, this sort of dancing became a ritual, during which Rumi believed that the soul was damaged and repaired, and when it was repaired, there was a renewed devotion to God.

From Wiki: “In this journey, the seeker symbolically turns towards the truth, grows through love, abandons the ego, finds the truth, and arrives at the Perfect. The seeker then returns from this spiritual journey, with greater maturity, to love and to be of service to the whole of creation without discrimination with regard to beliefs, races, classes, and nations.”

Honestly, this sounds amazing. I was never one for believing that the soul could have just one point of revelation; rather, it is always evolving and maturing. But for the alternative, it’s an amazing idea. And of course, whether you believe the soul goes through one very powerful transformation or many, I do concur with the idea that music plays a huge part of it.

“Falling into music” is a little bittersweet, and actually I think I was partially right in my analysis of it. We’ve fallen into a place where everything is monotonous, but we can choose to see it as music, because that is all we have. And because music is so powerful, we can choose to make something of it and use it to our advantage, not just in the world but for ourselves, spiritually. And once we change ourselves, we are well on our way to changing the world anyway.

Declaration of Faith

This is an essay I wrote for my senior high school lit class. The prompt was to write our “creed.”

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Man’s mindscape in the dawn of time: questioning everything from his five fingers to why his fish died. From how to balance on his two feet to why plants grow, or even why he’s alive. Questions flood man’s mind–some questions have answers, but some will still remain mysteries thousands of years later. Grappling with potential answers becomes man’s main priority. Answers form the basis for his faiths, because he has the need to believe something.

It’s inevitable that at some point, man will discover new things that nix his original theories. Man will have to reform his beliefs according to these new ideas, because some instinct tells him that it is reasonable for his faith to be at least somewhat based on fact. 

Faith is a very personal topic, unique to every human being. But even so, we use external conflicts and situations to strengthen our beliefs. Our spirituality is shaped by the events and people around us all the time, and therefore it would stand to reason that it is constantly changing. Part of change is the process of doubt. True faith can never exist without doubt.

When someone is able to justify and defend his or her beliefs, it conveys the impression that those beliefs are powerful and well though-out. It also usually heightens the sensation of wanting to agree or disagree, which fuels argumentation and so continues a cycle of conflicts that strengthen one’s faith, as well as one’s doubts.

A period of doubt and questioning will lead to an even stronger feeling of faith. Once a person answers his or her own questions, wouldn’t they feel stronger, like their ideas were more powerful? But each phase of doubt is harder to overcome, because with the maturity of answering questions and even more (and more important) questions and responsibility to answer them. This, I believe, is the natural process of gaining one’s own unique faith. Every person has to go through it personally.

Faith has no reason or strength without a background of doubt. People need the balance of doubt to reason their way to faith. Doubt gives man the least sense of security of any other aspects of faith, so of course men would want to avoid it. But actually, doubt and questioning give and unmatchable power to a man’s faith. Men always have the choise to accept doubt, but most will ignore it, thinking that it weakens them or gives less meaning to their faith. In fact, it’s the opposite. Doubt offers more depth to a man’s understanding or journey to understanding religion or the possibility of a higher being.

It is part of human nature to doubt, argue, and solidify one’s own beliefs by any means possible, with the help of other people and situations. Having faith is part of human nature as well, but I believe that people don’t want to go through the process of questioning to achieve true faith. They feel that questioning would weaken them, or they’re afraid of the answers they may arrive at, or they’re afraid of not finding answers.

Also, I think that Christians play a big part in making questioning taboo. Many Christians believe that when people question their own spirituality or ideals in faith, it’s really the devil trying to tear apart their religious beliefs. This is wrong mostly because questioning is not evil in any way. But even if this is so — if the devil exists and is trying to break people’s faiths — it only makes it more meaningful when people overcome doubt. People might feel like they’ve defeated an inner demon. Regardless, regaining answers and beliefs should lead to an even more powerful level of spirituality.

Questioning never ends, so perhaps the time of strongest faith that humans ever have is at death. Even though there are very few people who claim to understand death, many have ideas about what happens when we die or about the possibility of an afterlife. Though these beliefs are mainly shaped by religious teachings, some are influenced by raw faith, strengthened by doubt.

The most faithful people are characterized by not only their moments of weakness, but also by times of undying love. This could mean love and optimism for mankind, or a vision that includes peace and happiness for the world. These people are also very well-balanced in their journeys through doubt and questioning, and strong in their beliefs and faiths. When people recognize that faith and doubt are inseparable, is becomes much easier to realize their full spiritual potential.

Happy Xmas

Another article I wrote for the regional high school newspaper, around Christmas time. I thought it was timely now…

 

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Christian vs. Non-Christian Christmas Charity Organizations

Each year at the beginning of November, the choir classes at the Charter Academy start filling shoe boxes with children’s toys and candy. The boxes are wrapped in Christmas paper and shipped to kids ages 3-14 in various third-world countries. The event is called Operation Christmas Child, which is a Christian charity program.

I’ve always participated in this, because it’s so easy to become blind to what the less fortunate live through. I wanted to show my support in any way, if just for the satisfaction of knowing some poor child got the little Beanie Baby I put in my shoe box.

But this year, as I was watching the demo video for Operation Christmas Child, I felt no desire to send any boxes. I only felt pity for the children– not because they were unprivileged, but because of what goes with the shoe box. That is, a lengthy Christian brainwashing session.

I do know that Christmas is honored because of a Christian tradition. But it has certainly transcended all religious boundaries, and is now celebrated among many faiths (or lack thereof) and advertising companies.

So why haven’t charities also surpassed religion? If those who aren’t Christians can give gifts to friends and family, why can’t they give to the same recipients of our shoe boxes?

There are substantially fewer of these non-Christian gift-giving opportunities. A Google search returns 1,710,000 links to Christian-organized Christmas charity pages, and only 61,800 non-Christian ones (some of which have to do with different holidays altogether).

Even through the advertising marathon around Christmas, when everyone is encouraged to buy as much as possible, there still remains a gift-giving spirit for those we know and love. That intent can apply to people we don’t know, too. We can give to anyone. (Yes, the next step is singing “Kum Ba Yah.”)

Sometimes we just drop off a load of old clothes to the Salvation Army or women’s shelter. This local effort can go a long way, but there is so much need in other parts of the world. After all, it’s Christmas.

Don’t give up on spreading Christmas cheer if you don’t want to participate in a Christian charity donation. Of course, you’re already technically participating in a Christian holiday, but that’s excused more and more since Christmas is so commercial. Besides, Santa isn’t a Christian figure. Dyslexic devil worshipers sell their souls to Santa. Or, so I’ve read.

Naturally, charity doesn’t need to stop at Christmas. The (Red) Campaign is an organization that has spread through seven well-known brands: Apple, Motorola, Gap, Emporio Armani, Converse, Hallmark and American Express. Proceeds from (red) products help eliminate AIDS in Africa, and the amount donated totals $45 million so far. The Global Fund is part of the (Red) Campaign and accepts direct donations, instead of proceeds from merchandise.

If you believe getting rid of global warming is an act of charity, you can help our country by buying “environmentally-friendly,” or “green,” products. The Whole Foods Market, Burt’s Bees, Ben & Jerry’s and even Wal-Mart are considered “socially responsible” companies.

We have choices. This season, they happen to be (Red) and “green” charity opportunities. What could possibly be more festive? Add a little mistletoe and selling your soul to Santa, and you’ve got yourself one merry little Christmas!

Rallying Myself Together

This is another piece I wrote for my ex-school paper, about a rally against global warming that I went to. It might not make sense if you aren’t familiar with Northern Idaho, but here it is…

 

I don’t know what I expeted when I went to the rally. Maybe I pictured the scene in Across the Universe where one person is on a podium speaking to hundreds of fired-up hippies. But that won’t happen in Coeur d’ Alene. Sure, it’s a college town, and it is becoming more liberal by the decade… but it’s more likely that a mere forty people will go down to City Park on a cold Saturday in Novemer to show that they’re willing to do something about global warming.

In the end, there were about twenty people on the sidewalk, handwritten signs bobbing up and down to get the attention of the passing cars. No one honked.

It wasn’t as discouraging as it could have been. There’s some satisfaction in knowing when you’re right and other people are wrong, even if you don’t have much support. So, like the people who organized the meeting, I was just happy with the number that did show.

Then again, I might have been slightly expecting some kind of liberal underground Coeur d’Alene movement, into which I would be gratefully invited. Then, of course, I would be given all the bumper stickers and pins I wanted, free.

And when I got to college, I would fit right into the normal college atmosphere. I might even be the high school girl who was in a conservative town’s small awakening. 

As it was, though I was welcomed “warmly,” is was clear that the number of people who wanted to start saving our planet in Coeur d’Alene could reach a solid three dozen by the time I’m out of college, and these people certainly didn’t have any underground motives. All the bumper stickers and pins cost money.

But really, what would the impact be of having an underground anti-global warming club? Saving our planet doesn’t threaten anything. It’s just a little more costly, and it takes some effort from everyone. Especially Hagadone.

I’m in love with my car…

This article was really difficult to write, but I’m glad I did. The whole thing was a learning experience and I’m glad it’s over. The article was published in my high school newspaper.

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I would tell you that the screeching of tires terrified me. I would tell you that I will remember forever the sound of my car hood crunching. I would tell you that I felt the whiplash through my entire body as my car slammed into the back bumper of the car in front of me.

Actually, I remember almost nothing.

I remember the adrenaline rush and being in shock, I remember hurriedly jamming down the brake pedal and not forgetting to push the clutch in. Mostly, I remember the aftermath, when I got out of my car in a daze and tried to assess the damage done. I wasn’t knocked out, of course–just in shock.

Insurance cards specifically warn against making any statements about who was at fault, so I won’t. I know I was obeying all the rules – wearing a seatbelt, going the speed limit, not multi-tasking – I wasn’t even changing the radio station or shifting. But when I hit black ice going into a right turn lane, I hadn’t started slowing down yet, and of course, my brakes were useless against the power of the frozen roadway.

The truck in front of my fishtailed precariously, but was traveling much more slowly than I was. At later estimation, I’d say I probably hit the truck while going about 25 mph.

I was able to drive my beloved vehicle to school after I and the other driver had discussed the accident. There was bright yellow-green coolant on the road, so I had to watch my engine temperature guage, but all was well. I wouldn’t pop the hood to look at the engine, but the car was running, so I assumed all was fine. I wouldn’t know what to look for or listen for anyway.

Obviously, I was late to school, but the secretary, vice principal, and principal all seemed to know what had happened anyway. I’m sure I was shaking as I took my excused tardy slip, but I wasn’t pessimistic.

I would replace the coolant easily. And the engine still ran, so that didn’t seem to be a problem. I might even be able to live with the hood a little beat up. The grille was shattered, but who needs a grille? And I was still alive…

The final word would come when I took my car to the nearest Subaru dealer to get an assessment and estimate of costs. I was still able to drive the car, albeit at 45 mph on the freeway.

Doesn't look as bad as it is, actually.

I waited for what seemed like hours while the guy at the body show added up uminaginable parts and labor costs. I tried to imagine the worst. $1500? $2000? Even at $1500, my car would be totaled and I wouldn’t know what in the world to do.

Finally, he hesitantly but factually told us that my car was indeed totaled; the damages would be at least $3300 to fix. There was a little consolation in his voice as he continued with the actual parts he would need to replace, but the terms fell on deaf ears.

To give some background, I was and still am in love with my car. It was the cute white Subaru with all the bumperstickers. If you ever looked in it, you’d see it was a complete mess (I was getting to that, I swear…) but even all the articles of junk reflected every aspect of me. Every time I got in, I loved my car a little more. It was a dream to drive (not that I’ve experienced driving many cars). I was used to the manual transmission and the car’s certain drawbacks, like the defective air conditioner, slow heater, and scratchy sound system.

Believing that I had ruined my favorite car (ok… my only car) forever, I cried for the rest of the afternoon. I cursed the ice and the chance that I just might have been following a little too closely.

lovely.

Three weeks later, my neck has stopped hurting and I’ve found a body shop where my car would be fixed for $2000. The insurance company is reimbursing me with $1100, which is about what the car is worth, and I’ll scrounge up the rest.

I won’t get through this article without homage to KerriAnn Wright, who was less fortunate in her car accident. I know I’m extremely lucky, and if I had to have this kind of learning experience, I’m just glad that it happened the way it did – no one was hurt, and I’m actually going to get my car back.

KerriAnn’s crash was a wake-up call to all of us in some way, and some of us probably made resolutions to be attentive while driving and maybe even have perfect driving records. But sometimes circumstances like that cannot be controlled, even in one’s best efforts. I’m not saying that happened with me, but the fact remains true. Please drive carefully!

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KerriAnn was a girl who was killed in a car accident in my class’ sophomore year. She was driving, and the crash killed both her and her father, and critically injured two of her brothers. She should have graduated with us this past May, and we all missed her.

My car was fixed for $2000, and the front looks absolutely brand new. I absolutely love that little ’93 Subaru Impreza hatchback. It gets an average of 30 to 31 mpg, and it’s just been perfect for me.

I will post pictures of the bumperstickers soon! : )

Blog Much?

Ironically, I wrote this almost two years ago, when I wasn’t even interested in having a blog. WordPress isn’t even one of the sites I researched. It may not be of much help to someone who is already reading or keeping a blog, but the variation in some blog sites is interesting.

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So you got internet a while ago, and you now have email and instant messenger. What’s the next step? Instead of that old dog-eared journal, check out the options for a new, clean, organized blog space online. Blogging is also handy if you’re concerned about privacy. It can be completely anonymous (if you make up a false name) so you can really write anything at all. But what IS it?! A blog is an online journal, used for telling people more about yourself and what goes on in your life. People get to know you better, and you may gain some friends! However, none of these sites are dating services. You may add pictures, varying fonts, sizes, and colors of text, website links (HTML), and videos in almost any blog. People can leave comments, rate, or leave kudos on a blog. When you read a blog later and decide you didn’t really want to curse out your teacher, you can go back and edit or delete that entry (not possible with that old dog-eared journal…).

Blogs are being used for every purpose imaginable. Businesses have blogs where they may post news and articles, job options, things for sale or things wanted, or advice from entrepreneurs in starting and continuing a business. Magazines and newspapers use them to publish articles and the paparazzi post pictures of celebrities. Musicians and bands use them to share music and show talent, gain recognition, and sell albums.

Be aware that other people may be able to read your “diaries.” Because these sites are accessed by more people (and creepier people) than you may want to be reading your blog, all blog spaces have options for making an entry private. The Myspace inventor and advisor Tom posts messages reminding users that the internet is not always as safe as people think. On Myspace, there is an option of making your entire profile page invisible to anyone not on your friends list, but hacking is always a possibility and Tom encourages people to be aware of this. Safety comes with awareness, and the more ignorant the user, the more potentially dangerous the website.

You might want to explore other people’s blogs before you try one for yourself. There are thousands available and a simple, general search about music on Google will come up with countless blogs. Exercise caution, however blogs are not censored (for pictures or words) so if your internet browser doesn’t filter out explicit content, you could be caught off guard. Make sure that the blog site is free (if that’s what you’re looking for) and think before you write.

MySpace.com

MySpace, accessed by millions each day, is more of a friend space than a real blog space. On it, you can create a detailed page with your very own “www.myspace.com/yournamehere” link and any information you want. You can add friends (including well-known or obscure bands or artists, movie websites, or TV shows) who have accounts and write comments on one another’s pages, and send private messages (like emails) as well. Posting bulletins (which are shared with everyone on your friends list), instant messaging, and blogging all happen in MySpace. The blogs themselves aren’t put up front on the page; visitors to your page click on the blog title, which leads to the actual blog.(The Illuminati has a MySpace, too! www.myspace.com/ccailluminati)

Xanga.com

Before Myspace, the majority of blog users had a Xanga account. But now, Xanga users are in the minority. That doesn’t mean this simple site isn’t worthwhile, however. It’s got the bare minimum for a blog site, and sometimes that’s only what someone would want. The blogs are shown right on your main page, which you can design all you want. People may rate or comment on your blog and subscribe to it if they want, which means that they will be notified every time you publish a new blog entry.

Blogger.com

A more professional approach to blogging, this blogspace creates networks between friends and even coworkers. Taryn Broadwater, a writer for the Spokesman-Review, has a blog on Blogger.com, and though she uses it to write about home life and herself, she has a link to the Spokesman-Review website and her profession is displayed. In one blog, she mentions that though she doesn’t put her kids’ names or her husband’s name, she does post pictures of them and it might be easy for someone to find them. But she loves writing for fun (“The blog is a form of therapy for me”) and says there is a limit to paranoia.

Squarespace.com

This site isn’t free, which takes it up a notch in professionalism and probably gives it more credibility as a safe place to post your blogs. You can create your own web page with this system as well. The templates (or the your blog layout designs) are endless, as well as the fonts and colors. Paying for a blog may make it safer, but it might also be unnecessary. Organizations like The Wall Street Journal use Squarespace they can afford to use such a professional space to its full potential. If you are worried about safety, writing under a fake name is your best bet for staying anonymous.

Blogstream.com

Another free blog space, Blogstream has a chatroom and all the typical options for blogs. You may upgrade your blog and pay for it so that there are no advertisements displayed on the page and more room to write or post pictures. If you are viewing another person’s blog, you can click on “Family Filter” at the top of the page so that any inappropriate blog entry is not displayed. Or you can click on “Clean,” which omits anything offensive. Blogstream is still small and relatively unknown, but just as good as any blog space available.

Livejournal.com

This blogging option is another way to keep connected with friends and meet new people. The networking is based on location or similar tastes (but again, this is not a dating service…) or “communities” (groups with the same interests). This is a popular site because you may “post to your journal from anywhere!” which means that, with some phones, you may write a blog on your phone and upload it to the internet from there. Livejournal, which has existed since 1999 and has about 12 million users, is adding a search soon. You can use this to search for a blog topic, an author, communities, or anything else on the site. All of Livejournal’s features are free and signing up is easy.

Mulitply.com

Multiply is great for interacting and sharing your blog with only people that you already know. It’s very personal and specific to you get your own internet address, add your friends who have blogs, then comment with them right on your page. You can even simply import your email’s address book into your list of friends. “Live replies” on your site aren’t exactly instant messages, but they are very fast and enable a discussion of a blog. Multiply is one of the only sites that boasts about being very compatible with pictures, music, video, and HTML links. You can post pictures and HTML with almost any blog space, but music and videos are hard to put on a page without making the site slow or the page format different. The simplest form of Multiply is free, but extra features can be added for a monthly fee.

Search Engine Blogs

You can create blogs with most search engines now (such as Google, Yahoo!, and MSN) and most email providers. These are either private or shown on your profile. This is more convenient to some people, since with Yahoo! for instance, you can have an email account, instant messaging, music provider, and blog all with the same username in the same Yahoo! base. And you can always use these search engines to look for other blog spaces, since the options grow every day.

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Shine a Light

I wrote this movie review (of Martin Scorcese’s concert/documentary film of the Rolling Stones “Shine a Light”) for my high school newspaper. I saw the movie in an IMAX theater in Vancouver, BC.

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There are some things about your parents and their past that you just have to ignore or pretend don’t exist. Like the fact that both of them may have worn bellbottom pants and enjoyed disco balls at one time. But you can’t always just write off their music sense… or even lack thereof. I think I can truthfully say that my life changed when I started listening to what my parents said was great music.

Of course, it’s also thanks to them that I’m rather in denial about what decade to which I think I belong.

While they relive their adolescence through movies like “Across the Universe,” all I can do is long for what I missed. And while my parents were able to experience real concerts of groups like the Stones and Queen, I’m forced to only imagine what it could be like to actually sit in Mick and Keith’s audience.

It is, admittedly, a little easier to imagine in an IMAX theater where Keith’s guitar and Mick’s lips are even larger than life.

Martin Scorsese has brought us hits like “Taxi Driver,” “The Aviator,” “Gangs of New York” and “The Departed.” Now, he’s brought a New York stage to mere mortals who haven’t been touched by the sweat of a Stone (metaphorically speaking) or counted their wardrobe changes during a concert. Complete with snippets of black-and-white interviews straight from the 60s, Scorsese’s newest film “Shine a Light” reveals the glory of one of the finest rock groups of the British Invasion.

The main performance footage of the movie was shot at the Beacon Theater in New York City, where the Rolling Stones performed two nights in a row to packed crowds. The audience was varied in age and social status, from your average teenage girl to Bill, Hillary and Chelsea Clinton.

Bill Clinton introduced the group, reminding everyone that he’d had the pleasure of doing so before, and that he still thought the Stones were forever a classic group, one that many generations could enjoy. And when the camera panned over him in the second half of the movie, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

Some say the Stones are at the absolute bottom of their game. They’re still wearing skin-tight leather and hippie-era-jewelry, while their wrinkles are growing and their skin is sagging. But they’re no less talented than when “Satisfaction” was number one on the charts. In fact, they secure their One-of-the-Greatest-Rock-Bands-of-All-Time status when they collaborate with other contemporary artists, like blues guitarist Buddy Guy, Jack White of the White Stripes and Christina Aguilera. These musicians were all featured in the movie in duets.

The Rolling Stones have always had a somewhat questionable reputation. Between the Beatles and the Stones, the Stones were always the “bad boy” band who had supposed drug references and satanic allusions in every song. They are quick to remind critics that it’s all in the interpretation, however.

The band is made up of Mick Jagger (vocals), Keith Richards (guitar), Charlie Watts (drums) and Ron Wood (bass, guitar). All are in their sixties. Their voices are gravelly, their arms are veiny and their hair is thinning. But they’re still performing, with more vigor and enthusiasm than we find in many other artists. They’re still producing music, with more talent and genius than most mainstream contemporaries.

So why wouldn’t you want to experience the closest thing you’ll ever get to seeing the second-best rock band of all time (Beatles still rank number one, of course)? Maybe because the thumping bass is just too thrilling. Maybe because the songs are too familiar and enjoyable. Maybe because otherwise, your parents might just rub it in your face that they got to experience the hype firsthand.

Or, ok… maybe because “Shine a Light” isn’t actually playing in a theater near you, let alone the IMAX. It’s bound to come to our hamlet soon, and if it doesn’t, it will definitely be available for rent. At least invest in some digital surround-sound to make the most of the experience, and watch it with someone who can relive the band’s greatest highlights.

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“Final Thoughts”

This was part of a compilation of articles that all the senior editors (including me) of my high school newspaper wrote. The newspaper was ending, not just for the year, but until further notice. We were all heartbroken (even though we were all seniors and would be leaving anyway). We produced a fantastic paper and were very disappointed to hear that it would end after we left. So this is the “goodbye” article I wrote for the last edition of our paper, The Illuminati.

It was when I starter daydreaming about fantastic article leads like this one that I realised I wanted to go into journalism as a career. Leads can usually be placed in one of the following categories: sappy, questioning, ZAP!, yawn, news, bitter, me me me, you you you, or a combination of those.

For your entertainment, since you will never read another lead from me in The Illuminati, I will give you some outtakes for this article:

Sappy: Well, we editors have come a long way, but it’s time to put an end to the magic.

Questioning: What does one do when the publishing of her favorite paper comes to an end?

ZAP!: My beloved paper! Gone! No more! It is an ex-paper!

Yawn: Mrs. Smith just told us there might not be a paper next year.

News: On May 5, 2008, Journalism/Yearbook adviser Jane Smith announced the potential end of The Illuminati for the ’08-’09 school year.

Bitter: As if just not writing for the paper anymore weren’t enough, the administration has decided to shut down our precious paper altogether.

Me, me, me: I could die – I don’t know what will become of me if I can’t see my name in my school’s paper anymore!

You, you, you. You never know what you have until you have it taken away from you, and you won’t know how much you’ll miss the paper until you’re not reading it anymore.

And so on, and so forth.

The lead of an article is “a short summary serving as an introduction to a news story, article or other copy,” but you’ve probably figured that out. Obviously, the lead is probably the most important part of a story. It can make or break the other 500 words of an article, or it can make or break every reader’s opinion of the author.

The lead is “a guide or indication of a road, course, method, etc., to follow.” I can’t remember writing my first lead ever, but I’m sure while writing I wasn’t thinking it would automatically lead to my primary career choice. Or life in general.

The lead: an observation, some inspiration, a motivation. Fuel for action. Reason for change. A cause for the effect. The question for the resolution. Or, the roadmap for the action. The plan for the plot.

The body: The supporting scene. Details. Specifics. A blow-by-blow of conflicts. Whatever makes the outcome worthwhile. Everything that gives meaning to the point. An argument. A testimony of passion. An explanation, a legacy.

The conclusion: … I’ll be honest – I don’t know yet.

And what happens after? We begin again, of course. For there will always be another deadline or another incentive. Then begins the new cycle of creativity, of excitement and of craziness. Just like life, everything keeps moving. It may be disorderly (everyone has that really yucky, disappointing article every once in a while), and the outcome may be completely unsatisfactory.

As some great young prophet said, “any blank piece of paper is a world to be created, an idea to be stated or and emotion to be conveyed… [it's] a canvas just like Life; it’s ours to do with what we wish; it’s reserved for our imagination.”

So here we all are, each writing just one more lead for our adored Illuminati, paradoxically choosing the best beginning to end our editorial reign, choosing the best conclusion to commence the rest of our lives.

… And there you have it. That is all my work; I would appreciate it if no one stole any part of it. Thank you.

Breast Cancer Symptoms

I wrote this as a sample of my writing for a potential employer, but I thought it was interesting and helpful anyway.

A diagnosis of breast cancer often comes without warning. Luckily, there are some signs to be wary of that might, if investigated early, save one from a malignant (or deadly) case. The first and most easily recognized symptom is pain in the breast(s). This pain might be caused by lumps in the tissue. Lumps are the second dangerous sign of possible breast cancer, especially if they grow or won’t go away. Finally, one should look at changes on and around the nipple area. The changes might be in color, texture and sensitivity. Any of these signs warrant a doctor’s aid.

LimeWire feature article

This article was written for the same selective-staffed regional high school publication as the article below.

Look no further for T-Pain’s latest single. Look no further for the newest version of Photoshop. Look no further for thousands of downloadable pictures of Johnny Depp, his movies and transcripts of every interview with him.

All are available from LimeWire.

While it was becoming common for a song to cost 99 cents online, LimeWire was gathering a following of people who paid absolutely nothing for their music… or videos, documents, pictures and programs.

It advertised itself as a file sharing program, not a “free downloads!” site. The creators weren’t ambiguous in their intentions for LimeWire’s uses. The website proclaims, “LimeWire is legal software, but it is illegal for you to use LimeWire to share copyrighted files without permission.” And yet, anyone could share any program or file on their computer, and millions across the world would be able to access it and save it on their computers. The software isn’t monitored, and many files are copyright protected.

Created in 2000, LimeWire had been downloaded 3 million times in its first year. Be 2005, it had reached hundreds of millions of downloads, and was one of the most popular programs online. But its fame didn’t come without controversy. Artists and musicians were earning nothing from LimeWire’s users.

People began boycotting LimeWire, but since it’s a free program, this didn’t hurt the company in the least. Arguments surfaced from people claiming that LimeWire was (or should be) illegal, because it allowed people to access music and other media for free, when normally it would have a price tag.

The consequences for downloading files illegally?

“Your activities on peer-to-peer networks such as LimeWire’s may be monitored by copyright owners… Risks include significant settlement fees if you are sued,” LimeWire’s website explains. “Right now, our filtering blacklist is not comprehensive and many copyrighted files may still be available on the network.”

Not every file shared through LimeWire normally costs money. Some are free to begin with, and some are in the public domain.

It’s impossible to restrict the sharing of any files on LimeWire. There is no way someone would be able to segregate all the files that aren’t originally free or public domain. So if the objective is to discourage people from stealing, that is not a solution. Getting rid of LimeWire wouldn’t make any difference either, because there are many other programs that serve exactly the same purpose. Some programs even enable file sharing in much, much larger proportions than LimeWire.

There haven’t been any lawsuits against LimeWire regarding file sharing (yet), but there have been cases involving software companies. One of these is MGM Studios vs. Grokster, Ltd. In this case, Chief Justice David Souter made the statement, “…one who distributes a device with the object of promoting its use to infringe copyright… is liable for the resulting acts of infringement by third parties.” This reiterates the danger LimeWire users have. If you “share” copyrighted files through LimeWire and are caught, LimeWire is not at fault. You are.

And “getting caught” is not the only danger of using LimeWire or other file sharing software. Users are also in danger of identity theft. One man in Seattle, Washington was arrested in September 2007 for using LimeWire to link to other people’s computers to get credit card numbers. By the time of his arrest, he had reached 83 victims.

If there is any assumption that the creators of LimeWire are selfish and are only interested in their own profit, it might be incorrect. The advanced version of LimeWire, called LimeWire PRO, charges a monthly rate for faster downloads and personal tech-savvy help. But alas, LimeWire is its own enemy! Now LimeWire PRO is available for download through the more common free version, and no one benefits at all.

In all probability, technology experts will devise a way to make copyrighted files impossible to share, within a system where the actual sharing is legal. There are already “protected” files that computers won’t recognize and cannot be shared or uploaded online, but all other files still exist as well.

The moral of the story is that sharing copyrighted files is, and probably will always be illegal. LimeWire is not, and may never be illegal. So if you choose to use LimeWire for downloads, do so at your own risk. It is possible to track downloads today, and it is also possible to track identities through computers. Be careful and safe; don’t go haywire.

Article about TESC (The Evergreen State College)

This was written for a regional high-school newspaper with a selective staff. It’s a compilation of the optional essay I wrote for my application to the college, and another informative feature-like article I wrote about it.

In a bubble of ignorance, believing that school was supposed to be about competing for grades, doing meaningless homework, and taking even more pointless tests, I was frustrated when I visited Evergreen. Why couldn’t I have been left alone, left to choose a ‘traditional’ college and complete my education in a more ‘normal’ way? I could have persisted with learning little, retaining little and being unenthusiastic about the whole process.
Luckily, there was another alternative. After two weeks of debating with myself and discussing with my dad, I jumped. It was a leap of faith– faith in myself, and faith in Evergreen’s spectacular system (or refreshing lack thereof).

Almost every institute of higher learning proclaims a “one-of-a-kind” education of some sort. But Evergreen has the genuine raw appeal of a completely non-traditional atmosphere, though it’s definitely not for everyone. It is intriguing to students who have never questioned their school’s method of awarding grades or percentages.

Through high school, we’re trained to “strive” for the A, or maybe to accomplish “just” the B. But as anyone who has taken at least a semester of high school knows, the definition of a letter grade changes in every class. Do you really have to reach for that A in choir, like you do the one in math? Maybe you’re psyched for a C in history, but disappointed by a C in chemistry. With all the ambiguity and shape shifting of grades, it’s a wonder that we still put meaning in them. Then again, it’s so ingrained in all students that we just accept it.

Not at the Evergreen State College. No letter grades are assigned, no numbers. Nothing that could be misunderstood or misinterpreted. Teachers instead write complete, comprehensive evaluations of students and their work throughout a quarter. They can choose to give full, partial or no credit for a program.

Evergreen doesn’t require as much academic prowess and scholarly willpower as it does creativity. I have an unlimited imagination, but never has it been applied to designing a college education. In an institution which allows this and encourages it, the mind is freed of meaningless worries such as credits, grades, and mere memorization. Instead, a swiftly growing and maturing brain will engage in more important processes, like internal discussion, developing ideas and opinions, self-analysis, and self-discovery (partly through self-doubt).

Evergreen’s program system clears things up for those of us who were frustrated by having to jump from learning about DNA to reading Moby Dick in two hours. What if we could connect the two based on something they may have in common?

In a program, all types of classes—arts, sciences, social studies—are all tied together around a central theme. Usually, there are two to five professors who each specialize in an area within the program. They all collaborate and share their expertise.

The students’ environment is collaborative as well. When they don’t have to compete for a grade or “setting the curve,” there’s much more energy for sharing opinions, knowledge, and backgrounds.

Authors of what we call the “Great Books” believed that this was always what learning was supposed to be about. Why, then, didn’t education remain such a quenching and enlightening process? Obviously, most people are probably not meant to write books, which, thousands of years later, are still memorable enough to be called the “Great Books.” But how and when did education become so untrustworthy that tests of knowledge were developed? When did it become so discrete that we could measure the amount of it in a letter grade? When, in fact, did education become a measurable quantity at all?

There exists a college where one’s own schools of thought matter most. Personal concepts can be applied to a learning environment where there can only be endless rewards– the introduction of new thoughts, which develop and are reapplied. This means a cycle of win-win collaborative learning situations in discussions, ideas and personal growth.
There is so much to look forward to at Evergreen. Aside from its unique perspective on studies, it doesn’t lose any exciting opportunities available at other colleges. There’s so much to get involved in and so many choices to take advantage of in clubs, sports and the arts. Many activities were not options for me in high school.

I have attended a specifically college prep school for the past six years. Needless to say, it wasn’t prepping me for the type of learning I will embrace at Evergreen. No, the Coeur d’ Alene Charter Academy has been training me in the ways of the traditional college, where I would spend even more tedious hours fighting for that weird letter A that really represented nothing.

Then again, it’s not like there’s an Evergreen Prep School. And because of the whole diploma thing, high schools need a way to quantify how much a student has supposedly learned.

I’m confused by the awarding of letter grades for tedious memorization and regurgitation of textbook knowledge, and by what, if any, relation these grades have to learning in the first place. Evergreen opened my eyes to this disconnection, thankfully. In attending Evergreen, I’m especially anticipating seeing the world unrestricted by the blindness caused when education is made into a monotonous, unimaginative chore. Evergreen is a breath of fresh air after struggling to find inspiration in a traditional school system.

The Evergreen State College: www.evergreen.edu