A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, a displaced Midwesterner on a crazy acid trip turned to her dog-in-hand and said, “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
I am exhausted from the emotions of the past few days.
The beginning of the new school year is an opportunity for all students to help curb the spread of the Zika virus by practicing good habits, which include using mosquito repellent, spilling standing water to prevent mosquitoes from breeding and taking measures to reduce the chances of sexual transmission.
Governance can be difficult. There are many different competing interests to bear in mind. So, what’s the best way to maintain all of this? Transparency.
Over the past two years I’ve learned a lot, and it has been an immense privilege to be able to share my opinion with all of you once a week. I had my first opinion piece published in a newspaper when I was thirteen, and since then it has always been a thrill to see my writing in print, but also somewhat terrifying!
I could use this column to tell you how much I love Gainesville and the surrounding areas — places where you can swim in a cave at Devil’s Den, join the drunken zoo that is Midtown or watch thousands of bats fly into the sunset at UF’s Bat Barn and Bat House.
The health of our unborn children is at stake — if they are born in Florida, that is. Everyone should run for the hills, aka somewhere that isn’t flatland Florida. What with the sudden lightning storms that can crop up at any minute, the 14 cases of Zika infections found in the Wynwood area of Miami-Dade, the alligator attacks, the vicious road rage due to our standstill traffic and a host of other dangerous occurrences that happen daily in our “sunshine” state, nowhere is safe. Even the people here have been lumped together as the crazed “Florida Man.” National headlines read, “Florida Man accidentally shoots himself during job interview at elementary school” and “Florida Man attempts to smoke crack in ICU, almost burns down hospital.” It’s no wonder the people here are close to self-immolating.
In its first year under Mike White, the men’s basketball team went 21-15, falling in the quarterfinals of both the Southeastern Conference Tournament and the National Invitation Tournament.
It’s the last week of classes, and you’re diligently studying for finals in a library, coffee shop or “Pokegym” of preference. At least, that’s what you tell your people back home. Of course, like any college student in 2016, you’re in awe at the debacle that is our presidential election, dying for a conclusion to the endless media cycles of the “what-he-said-versus-what-she-said” between the two main candidates.
In the opening scene of the adored Disney classic “High School Musical,” an eclectic set of multi-dimensional and well-intended teenagers burst out of a classroom in song, vividly expressing the excitement of the summer vacation to come. For those of you whose teenage blunder years were also not nearly as animated as this scene, there was one student made for us. In the back of the classroom, for the entirety of what is really just this obnoxious flashmob, an adolescent young man lays head-in-arms on his desk.
Smaller pieces create what we consider life. Therefore, understanding the building blocks of existence makes us not researchers, but rather seekers of understanding. These were the welcoming words of Dr. Juan Manuel Lopez-Alcorocho, the director of quality control of Amplicel, on the first day of my internship.
Summer ’16: Here we are, dear readers — the end of an era. It’s been long, hot, sweaty, rainy, long, hot — did we mention hot? It’s crazy how time flies. Five weeks ago, so many of us returned to classes, while many others stepped on campus for the very first time: so young, fresh, innocent. Now, we’re all stuck between the misery of finals and the perilous hopes of a longer summer, watching what feels like a reprisal of “The Twilight Zone” on the news.
Throughout high school, I spent my weekday mornings watching “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report” before having to catch the bus for school. As the complexity of classes increased, so did the need for a working knowledge for the world around me. But traditional news shows were too biased or analysis on economic policy was followed by the latest fashion trends. So, like many teens, I felt the best way to catch up on current events was to watch satirized segments to truly understand what was going on.
For the past seven weeks I have been engaged in an intensive language program, studying Yoruba for eight hours a day. I have studied and speak six other languages, including Swahili and Arabic, and I can say with complete certainty Yoruba is by far the most challenging and difficult of them all.
This is for the best.
Who doesn’t love a good conspiracy film? A lone fighter struggling against a governmental authority responsible for controversial, covert schemes and robbing our fighter of his identity? Matt Damon as Jason Bourne has satisfied such spy inklings for years and will now return. First, there was “The Bourne Identity.” Then, “The Bourne Supremacy” and “The Bourne Ultimatum.”
My roommate, a modest conservative, had to endure the sight of me last week going full-fetal on our sofa, hugging a pillow, while I watched Fox News coverage of the Republican National Convention. “Why are you even watching this?” he asked, knowing full well my left-of-center views. “It’s like a train wreck,” I replied. “You just can’t look away.”
On July 15 in Istanbul, Turkey, soldiers closed the two bridges across the Bosphorus, the first indication that elements of the army were planning to remove the government of President Recip Tayyip Erdogan. In Ankara, the national capital, other soldiers took control of television stations and shelled the parliament building. President Erdogan had to use social media to rally his supporters. But by morning it was all over with Erdogan in full control.
Solutions by The State News
