The other night I went to High Dive to catch a tribute set of my favorite band of all time, The Smiths. The cover set was played by the Ordinary Boys, a band whose only function is to replicate the sound of The Smiths, as well as Morrissey’s solo work (yuck).
Life is a rough experience filled with ups and downs. Since the moment we are born, expectations of greatness are placed on us. Our parents look at us and say, “I hope he becomes a doctor,” or “She will be a movie star.”
Quite a few things happened this past week that have forced me to reflect on the dichotomy of high and low culture. Perhaps you’ve already heard of the first event: Bob Dylan winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, and thus becoming the first musician to do so. As an unapologetically devoted fan of both music and the written word, it goes without saying that I was thrilled to see Dylan join the ranks of Toni Morrison, Gabriel García Márquez and Samuel Beckett. Unfortunately, countless academics, authors and journalists vehemently disagreed with my opinion, citing a variety of reasons but often reaching the same conclusion: Songwriting simply cannot reach the level of artistic achievement pure literature can.
One of the most common freshman mistakes is being in classes from noon straight until 3 p.m.
In Steven Spielberg’s classic “Minority Report,” three mutants predict murders before they happen. In a futuristic Washington, D.C., a special division of police are responsible for stopping and apprehending murderers before they even commit the act. If you haven’t seen it, and have two hours and 26 minutes to burn sometime in the very near future, do yourself a favor and watch it.
Self-deprecating humor is pretty commonplace. It’s easy to pull off, and no one can be offended, because you’re only disparaging yourself. It’s a great way to look humble and witty at the same time, and a self-deprecating joke makes everyone around you feel that much better about themselves. This style of humor is a useful tool, certainly. But, like I said, it’s pretty commonplace. People have a knack for selling themselves short, because doing the opposite makes them look arrogant. And there are a fair number of societal norms that ask us to think poorly of ourselves, including social media and beauty standards. We’re all pretty much in agreement, though, that being humble is more noble than being boastful, right? I like to think so. It’s just the polite thing to do, really. When it comes to comedy, though, self-deprecation gets tricky.
Hearing about the current demand for science, technology, engineering and mathematics majors is nonstop. From high school onward, the STEM vs. liberal arts dichotomy starts to heat up and continues beyond college. Although it may be true that people with these skills are desperately needed, being a STEM major does not mean you are inherently more hardworking than others, and a liberal arts major is not lazy just because the answers to liberal-arts questions might be more open-ended.
When asked what the most infuriating thing in the world is, many potential answers come to mind. For me (and at least some others, I assume), it’s ignorance. Shocker, right? That’s why I am majoring in journalism, and that’s why I spend time each week writing things like this article to hopefully invoke some kind of thoughtful reaction to a variety of topics. Other infuriating things include people who use the 10 items or less line with more than 10 items, cut in line, eat pizza crust-first and chew with their mouths open (just writing that list made me start to twitch). However, there is one habit above all that really shouldn’t be an issue but has come to permeate our already delicate collegiate society: cheating.
You’re sitting in lecture, listening to your professor drone on about some topic you won’t even be tested on. You feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Your head drops down. Reflexively, your body jerks back and your eyelids shoot open. “Everything OK?” your friend next to you whispers. “Barts and Royals,” you deliriously mumble back. “Huh? Whatever, dude,” she says before glancing down at her notes. You lull slowly back to sleep, and as you’re drooling on your desk, you have a dream about…
On Tuesday morning, Gov. Paul LePage (R-Maine), said in an interview, “we need a Donald Trump to show some authoritarian power in our country.” Not only is it unsettling for the governor of an American state to be endorsing an authoritarian form of government, but it also reveals an underlying shift in the American public — a tilt toward authoritarianism.
Do you remember, dear reader, sitting in a Drug Abuse Resistance Education class in elementary school, taking that solemn and sacred vow to never touch drugs? We do. Statistically, most of you have broken that oath. It’s no secret that a sizable portion of the college demographic has experimented with cannabis in one of its many forms.
There are a lot of times I think I did college wrong. This becomes especially evident as my college career slowly creeps toward a close, while my sister’s is just taking off. Because of the glorious war of sister rivalry, sometimes I can’t help but compare our freshman years. She’s been making new friends every day, working out regularly, going out every weekend and bonding with the people on her floor.
Fifteen years ago, a little girl was in Washington, D.C. She was sitting in the corner of a conference room playing with Polly Pockets while her dad was in an important round table meeting with the Heritage Foundation discussing water treatment systems. She was promised that if she was as quiet as a mouse during the meeting, her dad would take her sightseeing. Oh, how she was dying to see the Lincoln Memorial.
The halfway point of the semester is fast approaching. Midterms are near.
Four ape-like creatures sat at the base of a tree in their rainforest habitat. They ate bananas, scratched their hindquarters, picked bugs out of one another’s hair and worried very little about the pressures of survival. Life was simple.
These past few weeks, I have been attending a class in which we discuss climate change. During this class, we have been exposed to data, information and public opinions on the topic. Most of the time, our professor makes us reflect on the correlation between human activities and the increase in temperature. During this time, she calls for us to think about our daily activities. I must admit, it is eye-opening and emotional to reflect on this. For a couple of hours, I sit with these ideas, and in a melancholic way I ask myself, “Are we dooming
It was the summer after my freshman year of college. I was 19 years old and staying with my parents for a couple of months before the new Fall semester rolled around. After a couple of weeks of putzing around the house, I started to receive subtle signals from my dad. He would come home from a long day of work and say something like,
The downfall of writing for the opinions section is that I only have so many accurate, or semi-accurate, opinions. There is a limit to the amount of truth I possess inside myself; the rest is pure inaccuracy. In light of this, I will nevertheless delve into politics head-first without a second thought about facts. After all, this is politics we’re talking about, the blank canvas we all feel entitled to throw our colorful opinions on. Who cares if the paint I throw looks like a 3-year-old’s attempt at drawing a pony?
According to Godwin’s law, “As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazism or Hitler approaches one.” For those of you with no background in statistics, this means the longer an online discussion is, the more likely it is that someone will compare Nazism or Hitler to his or her opponent’s side of the argument. Given that this election is immersed in online communication, it’s unsurprising our candidates are already being compared to the early 1900s political movement.
Solutions by The State News
