Hear ye, hear ye, dear readers. We’re already nearing the end of our second week this semester. How does time pass so quickly? Are we to learn that the Earth is rotating on its axis at faster rates? Is the very fabric of spacetime in jeopardy as the possibility of a Mein Drumpf presidency becomes evermore plausible? No matter: We invite you to take solace and pleasure in our latest segment of…
If I were to walk into the Alligator office today, get upset at my boss and punch him square in the jaw, I’d probably be arrested. And rightfully so.
We know this election cycle’s been hanging over your heads for what seems like forever, though probably still not as long as it’s been since you’ve returned your grandma’s voicemails. (Give her a call back, for heaven’s sake!) In so many ways, though, we’re just getting started. The general election is steadily approaching, and for weeks, all we’ve been hearing about is the need for party unity.
While the Republicans’ voters have decided to nominate a bigoted, xenophobic and self-centered human being, the Democrats are ready to continue moving forward on President Obama’s progressive legacy. With the prospect of a President Trump becoming more and more real, the Democratic party needs to unite more than ever, and fast.
It is impossible to listen to the candidates of this election cycle without hearing mention of the “establishment,” a sort of shady organization within politics that prevents the goodwill of the people from being heard or legislation from being passed, and anyone who isn’t part of the establishment, it can be assumed, is not longed for the political world because they speak the truth on a certain issue the establishment does not want to let out.
I am an avid Bernie Sanders supporter. This is a fact you could deduce from simply spending five minutes on any social media platform of mine. When the Vermont senator came to UF in March, my friend and I were in line to see him speak before his motorcade was even in town. With the Democratic nomination getting closer and closer each day, we’ve seen a rise in niche-voter movements like the #BernieOrBust ideology. My response to this movement is simple: If you’re feeling the Bern, it’s probably not in your best interest to bust.
If asked to explain what they think it is like to live in Africa, most Americans would probably formulate a perception drastically different from the unapparent reality. As a result of either minimally skimming through the “Africa” section in newspapers or forgetting about the continent altogether, many Americans would draw from their high school history classes to describe today’s Africa. This only becomes a problem when it seems it is more than just average Americans using information from decades ago, because although the possible solutions to benefit Africa have changed, policies have not.
I used to abhor the expression “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” If there’s a Hell, we’re probably living in it already, and why fault people for their good intentions?
One of the challenges for us in assigning current events with a dart or a laurel is the fact that there is just so much to talk about. Economies across the globe may be in recession, but we never seem to run short on our supply of ridiculousness. Experts are saying its market value is at an all-time high. So, with all of the ups and downs in recent world news, we’d like to bring you a more international segment: “Dartos y Laurel-schteinem?” We digress.
Presumptive Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump has a huge electoral problem looming on the horizon, and it seems he and many of his supporters either do not want to acknowledge it or would rather dismiss it as a non-issue. The problem is Trump does not seem to do well with a diverse general election constituency.
Hi, everybody. My name is Zachary Lee. I’ll be one of your columnists this Summer. You can find my column here in the Alligator every Tuesday. This being my first official column (you may recognize me from some politically-charged guest columns in past semesters or some crappy satirical pieces two years ago), I feel like I should introduce myself to you. I am majoring in philosophy and minoring in sustainability studies. I like peanut butter, my roommate’s dog and the satisfying crunch of walking on dead leaves. I don’t like the beach, adult men who wear Ed Hardy clothing products or Smirnoff Ice.
Welcome back, readers. Welcome home. We hope you enjoyed that little sliver of vacation. How did it come and go so quickly? It seems just yesterday we were in the heap of finals week, shamelessly praying to the gods to save our GPAs. No matter: time to trudge on through another season of classes. Treasure this semester, dear readers. It looks as though it may be our last.
When I walked through the doors of this old building back in January 2014, I was in limbo.
I get overly sentimental about sports.
I can’t believe that I’m writing this.
Goodbyes have never been my strong suit.
We live in a world full of myths. Never mind the tales of a big, green, gamma-radiated “Avenger” who, for some reason, seems to break through every article of clothing except his shorts, or the tales of a “hell week” that drain all happiness and restfulness from students as they descend in a Walking Dead-like fashion upon their neighborhood libraries and Starbucks, indiscriminately feasting on raw study guides and fresh coffee.
There’s something about the end of the Spring semester that provokes a certain type of introspection. Daily rituals, people and locations take on a deeper meaning as you assess how far you’ve come and where the hell you actually plan on going. It’s a discomforting mixture of nostalgia for another year gone by and the hesitant acknowledgement that time will continue to move at this swift pace. Everything you encounter becomes a symbol of change as friends continue to graduate and you’re left with a completely different Gainesville than the one you first encountered so long ago. In reality, these thoughts are most likely a thinly veiled attempt at procrastination, but that doesn’t make them any less profound.
So, it’s my final column of the semester. I’d say it was a pleasure writing for you all, but that’d be a lie. Y’all are kind of pretentious, to be honest. It makes me uncomfortable to be around you.
Solutions by The State News
