With the onset of winter and the chill that comes with the season, take some time over the vacation to shack up and enjoy the cold without the stress of getting up and going to class. Read the book that has been sitting on your bookcase since the summer or finally catch up on your TiVo. Try to do whatever it is that you have spent the last four months putting off. With a new year on the horizon, try and start 2009 by getting things done, but also by doing things you like. Always wanted to go ice skating in Rockefeller Center? Do it. Trapeze School? Sure. But you might have to wait ‘til warmer weather for that one. Either way, we here at the Boylan Blog hope you all have a relaxing, enjoyable and safe holiday break and we look forward to you coming back in the spring.
So without further adieu, we would like to introduce a new segment for the blog: “The Bloggies.” With the variety of articles written, we have chosen our favorite pieces to post on this “best of” blog to end the semester. So if you haven’t gotten the chance to read these intriguing and informational articles, written by the clever and witty team that is Professor Natov’s Interns, check ‘em out!
“The ignorance of one voter in a democracy impairs the security of all.” -John F Kennedy
This year the presidential election is said to have the biggest turnout in decades and yet there are still people who don’t plan on voting. With crucial issues like the economy and the war in Iraq in the forefront, it’s puzzling how people still believe their vote doesn’t count. Even more unfortunate is many of those who don’t vote are young people. As far back as the 1960 presidential election, between a seasoned Richard Nixon and a young John F. Kennedy, there has been a struggle to stimulate young voters. Even though more young people are getting involved in politics like never before, there are still those who don’t see a reason to vote.
Looking at the turnouts of the last two elections, it seems there is nowhere to go but up. The US census reported a voter turnout of 60% in 2000 and 64% in 2004. Statistics like these leave people wondering how we can live in a democracy and have almost half of the country pass up one of its fundamental rights. In Australia, where voting is mandated by the government and produces turnouts of about 95%, citizens must vote or explain to the government why they didn’t (i.e. sickness or being out of the country). If the government feels the person missed the election for illegitimate reasons they pay a fine. But is this what Americans need? Do we need our government to force us to realize that issues facing the country are important?
Many different things come up when people discuss not wanting to vote. Some people feel like they don’t know enough about the candidates, some don’t like the choices and some claim they don’t vote because they don’t believe it makes a difference. Hopefully I can convince those of you who plan on sitting out November 4th to get out to the polls and make a decision. So here are the most popular reasons for not voting and why they don’t work:
“I don’t know who to vote for” We all know to take what candidates say with a grain of salt, especially as we come closer and closer to Election Day. They can promise the world, but it doesn’t mean they are going to follow through. The president is forced to make hard decisions and we can only hope the candidate we vote for makes the right ones. More importantly, aside from the candidates, politics gets people talking. It forces all of us to take a look at the issues and take a stand on what we think. If you don’t think you know enough about the candidates to make an informed decision do something about it. Go on You Tube, watch the debates, read the paper, check the facts, find out what you stand for and choose the candidate that you feel has the same ideals and can do the best job.
“I don’t like either candidate”
Every election we begin to feel pressured to vote for the “lesser of two evils.” As October creeps on, candidates begin to scramble for anything they can throw at each other. In these last weeks we can not give up. The bottom line is we can find faults in both candidates because no one is qualified enough to deal with the problems we are facing. Whoever wins is going to try and make the right decisions but they can’t make any guarantees. Voting is about making a decision and voicing your opinion. Who do you think can do the best in the White House? Sometimes we make mistakes but democracy gives us the privilege of correcting ourselves every four years. So make an informed decision but look back farther than the last few weeks and don’t believe everything you hear (thanks to websites like factcheck.org, figuring out the truth is easier than ever). In one of the most important elections in history it was expected that the candidates would start feeling the pressure of Election Day on their shoulders.
“My Vote Doesn’t Count” It’s hard to convince someone that their vote makes a difference without bringing up the domino effect: that if everyone thought like that no one would vote and the democracy would cease to exist. The set-up and execution of the Electoral College makes it difficult to convince people that an election can be determined by one vote, because realistically it can’t. Our founding fathers established a system where neither the government nor the people have complete control over the outcome of an election. The system is set up so when the people decide on a candidate they really vote for a committee who then elects the president. Many skeptics debate over who these “final electors” are and how they end up in such a powerful seat that seems so open to manipulation. Some states have elections for these committee members while some are elected by their represented party. The Electoral College is not made up of random people who just “pinky swear” to vote for a specific candidate. Usually the people chosen have strong ties to the party they promise to vote for, and some are even friends of the candidate’s.
We all saw, in 2000 that a candidate can win the popular vote yet lose the election. This is because the main goal of the candidates on Election Day is not to get the most votes in the country but to hit 270 electoral votes. Many argue that this aspect of the system is unfair but by assigning each state a certain amount of “votes” (based on their number of representatives in the House plus 2 for their Senators) the Electoral College ensures that every state has a voice. Still candidates must work for the popular vote in order to get the electoral votes they need. When the results of the electoral vote don’t match that of the popular vote, people don’t take it lightly. The election in 2000, where Al Gore was announced the winner only for it to be recanted moments later, is an example of an imperfect system. Debates over the Electoral College are valid and it does have its grey areas but not voting in an attempt to spite the government is ensuring that your opinion isn’t heard.
Our vote matters because we are exercising a right that was not always given to us. Our fore fathers created a democracy because they didn’t feel like they had a say in their own government. When we refuse to vote we denounce all the hard work that ensured this right for us. When women argue their vote doesn’t count, they forget about Lucretia Mott and Susan B Anthony and the women’s suffrage movement that fought seventy years to get women the right to vote. African Americans fought for decades against the Jim Crow Laws well into the 20th century. When we don’t vote we negate the progress made by those that came before us. How can we denounce a right that so many fought so hard to get?
Voting is more than just a right, it’s a duty. As the election rages on, many people are left with the question: “Why should I vote?” Vote because you can. The issues that face our country today will one day be our problems and our children’s problems and we are obligated to look at the issues, make choices, develop an opinion and go with the candidate who we feel would do the best job. Regardless of whether you’re on the left or right, there is a power in numbers and a high voter turnout sends a message to both parties.
And in the words of Bob Schieffer‘s mother, “Go vote now, it will make you feel big and strong.”
This week, Diana Kuruvilla shares one of Pablo Neruda's wonderful odes.
When I first read this poem my fingers timidly reached up to touch my own kernel of existence, feeling the contours of my head as if for the very first time. As a student of science, the mysteries of the brain had never ceased to astound me, yet its protective covering was something I completely overlooked. Where before I surrounded myself with descriptions of synapses and action potentials, I found something more concrete and physical in Neruda’s depiction of the “tough coconut” and “calcium dome” covering the anterior part of our being. Neruda’s use of vivid similes and metaphors produced a tangible image that instantly made my fingers itch to cover the expanse of my head’s topography.
This is a poem packed with description and the run-on lines build up the tension and expectation of richer comparisons. Each line consists of no more than three or four words, directing the reader to pause and take in what had just been said. Through the use of recurring line breaks the poem relays a message not just about the cranium, but also about re-discovery. Neruda takes a second look at his cranium and praises it for its strength and invincibility through the years. He invites us to develop a second perspective, a more in-depth focus on those things we have come to take for granted. In an era where many of us are focused on material commodities, Neruda reminds us that stopping and smelling the roses, (or in this case, stopping and feeling your cranium) is a valuable way to spend our time.
This week Chantal Hauser shares her experience reading the novel My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler
Candid, hilarious and provocative; these words best describe Chelsea Handler’s first book, My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night-Stands. This book is written in a clever and fresh style, where the author illuminates, without shame, her highs and lows in her encounters with the opposite sex.
As a bonus, the reader will find warmhearted anecdotes involving friendship, inebriation, bouts of questionable judgment and many other difficult paths that comprise the typical love/sex life. Provocatively titled chapters such as, “Guess Who’s Leaving through the Window?”, “Skid Mark”, and “Shrinky Dink” make you raise an eyebrow, or two.
After reading the first few lines, the reader is immediately captivated and cannot help but want to know what happens next. Consider the introduction of, “I was seven years old when my sister told me she’d give me five dollars to run upstairs into my parents’ room while they were having sex and take a picture. At that age I had heard of sex but had no idea what it looked like…I was always up for a chance to make easy money. I had been wearing hand-me-downs since I was born, and by the age of seven was already sick and tired of my second-string wardrobe. I may not have known what sex was, but I did know that I needed to step up my wardrobe in order to be taken seriously in the first grade.” It is pretty rare - at least for me - to have my curiosity tickled by a book after the very first sentence. Throughout the book, the plot lines only seem to get better; you will not be disappointed.
At a time when the display windows of most bookstores are littered with either depressing self-help manuals, or extended political op-ed rants, My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One Night Stands comes as a refreshing blast of ‘yes, I went there’ honesty. It is a fast and light read, and I recommend it to anyone who does not mind laughing out loud. Trust me; this is the perfect break from the chore of absorbing mandatory reading from complex and intense textbooks. Consider it a well deserved guilty pleasure…remind you of anything?
In my ten years of being a die-hard Hip-Hop fan, I’ve been to my fair share of concerts. From classic 90’s groups such as Public Enemy and Brand Nubian, to later Native Tongue acts such as Mos Def and Talib Kweli, and critically acclaimed top-five rappers such as Nas, I’ve seen it all. I’ve also witnessed spectacular performances from underground emcees like Brother Ali and the leading live act in Hip-Hop, The Roots. Nothing, however, prepared me for the Pharoahe Monch concert featuring Stephanie McKay at Highline Ballroom, Friday, November 21. (...)
Just as I was becoming comfortable playing the role of heartbroken bitter old man, however, Pharoahe Monch reminded me how I first fell for Hip-Hop and why I still love her. His opening act at the Highline Ballroom was Stephanie McKay, a Bronx soul/funk singer who can belt it with the best. I hadn’t heard of her before I bought my ticket, but she quickly won me over. McKay’s voice was clear, powerful and utterly soulful despite the fact that she appeared to be at least seven months pregnant. McKay retired after rocking the stage for a solid forty-five minutes. The crew quickly set up for the main act and after much anticipation Pharoahe finally entered.
Born in Queens, Pharoahe Monch first flourished in Hip-Hop as half of the duo Organized Konfusion for the greater part of the 90’s. The duo dropped three critically—but not commercially—successful albums and split in 1997. Pharoahe received slightly more commercial success with his debut solo album “Internal Affairs” in 1999 and took a long hiatus before releasing his second solo offering, “Desire” in 2007. Judging Pharoahe by glancing at his discography, however, does him little justice. On many tracks he sounds like an outer space preacher speak-singing the gospel of his life while linking strangely striking word combinations into multisyllabic rhymes. Simply put, Pharoahe’s style of flow and wordplay are unmatched in Hip-Hop today—if ever.
The first thing I noticed when Pharoahe entered was the existence of actual musicians. Backing the emcee were his DJ (a member of the legendary DJ crew the X-Ecutioners), a drummer, electric guitarist, electric bass player, keyboardist, two backup singers and a brass section. YES, you read correctly—a rapper had a brass section. The practice of playing with a live band is unusual for an emcee (minus The Roots), but as I hope I am making it increasingly clear, Pharoahe Monch is not the usual emcee.
Pharoahe opened with the partial Public Enemy cover, “Welcome to the Terrordome” and quickly moved into his Hip-Hop manifesto “Free,” which features a throbbing bass and the announcement of his emancipation from the record industry: “You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me/ Back straight standing tall a child of God, I'm... Free!/ Spit in my face, hold me down/ I'ma keep my feet firm to the ground, ‘cause I'm... Free!” “Free” is an excellent high-energy track, but it was particularly poignant during this concert since Pharoahe announced his newfound freedom as a label-less artist. This independence is especially impressive because the “Big Four” record labels—Sony BMG, EMI, Warner Music Group and Universal Music Group—do not only control the fates of most emcees, they also manufacture them.
The audience was rocking after “Free,” but with crashing drums announcing the start of “Let’s Go,” the crowd exploded. Instead of heads and shoulders bobbing—as is the case at most Hip-Hop concerts—they were thrashing. I can’t remember this ever happening before; I actually felt like I was at a rock show—minus people fighting. Fists were pumped, the speakers were blasting and it seemed everyone actually got lost in the music—I know I was.
“Let’s Go” also includes some ridiculously impressive rhyme schemes and wordplay. At one point in the first verse, Pharoahe preaches: “I'm the pinnacle rhyme kid and any line of mine is criminal minded/ I blind 'em with original rhyme shit/ Fall in line with the sick, cynical grime shit/ Clinically approved for you to move your behind with.” Emcees often simply rhyme the ends of bars, but instead Pharoahe uses rhyme and slant rhyme to link eight words: “rhyme,” “line,” “mind(ed),” “blind,” “rhyme,” “line,” “grime,” and “(be)hind” in a miniscule four lines while at the same time using alliteration and playing on multiple meanings of the word “line.” Enough said.
My favorite part of the show, however, may have been when Pharoahe silenced his band fifteen seconds into a song and announced (to paraphrase): “Busta Rhymes once told me if the crowd isn’t hyped enough then you better just give them some more.” He then had them start the track over and proceeded to give twice as much energy to the crowd. This struck me because many emcees would either be too braggadocios to admit they weren’t giving enough effort, or they would just demand the audience be louder—no matter how lackluster their performance.
After performing the majority of his tracks off “Desire,” many from “Internal Affairs,” a couple from his Organized Konfusion days, and even one from the underground classic Rawkus Records compilation CD “Lyricist Lounge 2,” Pharoahe shut down Highline Ballroom with “Simon Says,” a monstrous track that samples the Godzilla beat. “Simon Says” is not the most lyrical of Pharoahe’s songs, but the bass booms like a throbbing heartbeat, and the chorus gets a crowd more hyped than I’ve ever seen.
Pharaohe left the stage for about five minutes and quickly reappeared for a two-song encore after chants of “Pharoahe, Pharoahe.” He mellowed the crowd with one of his more romantic tracks “So Good,” and then made my night by ending the show with an extended a cappella version of a rarely performed track from a skit off the De La Soul album “Art Official Intelligence.” In the song, Pharaohe points out the hypocrisy in the lyrics of many pop rappers and demonstrates his lyrical skills while concurrently bragging about them:
How many n***** who will actually kill still rhymin’? How many n***** who are actually signed still killin’? …and when it comes to killin’ a mic, they ain't willin’ and I'm supposed to be shook? That's the shit that kills me Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish Extinguish the sun when I drew, play pool with the planets Triskaidekaphobia lyrics, outlandish My shit straight from the soul, god damnit It's the one time only, vernacular original Spectacular miraculous flow, computer digital I ridicule the pitiful, piss upon the miniscule Pharoahe Monch, better park that ass like municipal
After an hour and a half performance at an elevated energy, Pharoahe finally left the stage for good. The crowd, simultaneously tired and satisfied, left to presumably go to sleep (it was 2:30 in the morning)—I know I did. I couldn’t have asked for more.
With Barack Obama's recent victory, his supporters are thrilled by the symbolic implications for the future of the country and all of mankind. Though avid Obama fans, we at the Boylan Blog started to feel a bit numbed by all the lofty rhetoric surrounding him, and wanted to know instead how everyday Brooklynites imagined Obama's presidency would affect their day-to-day lives in the next few years.
This week Dan Asselin and Chantal Hauser asked the students of Brooklyn College:
How do you think Obama’s Presidency will directly affect your Life?
“I will finally admit to being an American abroad, and feel more like one at home.”
–Carolyn Soroka, Smart Student
“The President will be representing my political views for once.” –Brett, Hard Worker
“He makes me more interested in Politics, whereas before I never really cared. Before the walls of my rooms were lined with Art. Now, I hung up Obama’s commencement speech, which I intend on showing my children and grandchildren.” –Jennie, Dancer
"It think he will keep his promise and bring the troops back from Iraq, which will directly effect our family because my husband has a nephew there. I think the Stock market will react favorably to Obama's being elected which will positively effect our pensions, which have recently taken a nosedive. And I also think that he thinks enough about education to halt some of these No-Child-Left-Behind initiatives which will effect my husband's job as a teacher and also our kids' experience in public schools. "
--Katherine, Professor at Brooklyn College
"I don't know, maybe I'll meet more European chicks." -Julian, Musician
"It's going to cost me a couple of extra dollars, but in the next few years I believe with Obama's policies all my employees will be able to get health insurance. And also, his 4,000 tax credit will benefit my daughter in college."
--Mike, General Contractor
"It's a shame that I won't be able to think of Sarah Palin in the shower anymore. Hahahaha. I'm actually pretty skeptical. I don't think he's going to effect my life that much -- we're in so much deep shit right now that it will take his policies a long, long time to become effective." --Otto, Restaurant Owner
"Hmmm...(thinking), Well, I guess I won't be needing that back-alley abortion anymore!"
"My family's $135 million-a-year company is going to take a huge hit from Obama's tax laws. It's a little bit scary. I'm on that payroll. Our company's stocks, bonds & CODs are all going to be cut in half by his policies. These were securities my family counted on for their children so they wouldn't have to work for a living. " --Brandy, Corporate Partner
With finals rapidly approaching, the rush of the Christmas season upon us, and the almost painful countdown to inauguration day, we’re getting down to the wire. As the holidays approach, some of us dread dinner with our relatives and some yearn for it. Even though it may feel like we are slowly being buried by everything that needs to get done (or should already be done but isn’t,) try to stop and think of things that you take for granted. If you‘re at home, take a minute to be thankful that the heat is on (even if it feels like it’s off) because somewhere there is a person sleeping in the cold. Be happy that there are clothes on your back, running water in your bathrooms and food in the fridge (even if it’s only leftovers) because it can always be worse. Soon you’ll hand in that paper, get all the holiday plans settled, the gifts wrapped, and you’ll be left with the yummy feeling that comes from knowing the hard part is over—at least until next semester.
Some of our Interns will be leaving this semester and the Boylan Blog would like to thank and wish Carolina Alvarado, Chantal Hauser, Diana Kuruvilla and Austin Noel good luck in all they do.
Have a safe break and a Merry “Chrismahanakwanzika!”
Eight of the eleven judges on Brazil's Supreme Court have ruled to keep Raposa Serra do Sol a single, unbroken territory. Home to almost 20,000 indigenous people, Raposa Serra do Sol was declared an official indigenous reservation in 2005. Indian leaders view this case as setting an important precedent protecting their rights and ancestral lands, with wide repercussions and implications for future treatment of indigenous communities.
A ruling against them would have split the territory allotted them into a set of "islands," weakening their community, and signaling to "land grabbers" that an invasion of their territory would be acceptable. A small group of rice farmers living in the area, however, argued that if the court decided in favor of the indigenous community they would be forced to leave. They claimed their removal would be counter productive to governmental efforts to develop the economy of the Amazonian state of Roraima, within the borders of which Raposa Serra do Sol is situated.
Furthermore, sovereignty issues came into play as "some military leaders said they feared that a large, quasi-autonomous Indian reservation running along a lengthy section of Brazil's northern border would undermine national security and sovereignty."
As a compromise, eight of the eleven judges ruled that the Indian reservation should remain a single, unbroken territory, but made it clear that "the army and police should have full access to the region without having to consult indigenous leaders." Although the judges began making their decisions in August, a final ruling has been postponed by one indecisive judge. For this reason, indigenous lawyer Joenia Battista de Carvalho confesses her community's feeling "is one of half a celebration, because what we wanted to see was the practical result of this - to see our land free of any invaders."
We can only hope that this issue will not lead to violence against the indigenous people as it has in the past. Although Brazil's 1988 Constitution mandated that all Indian ancestral lands should be returned to their tribal owners within five years, BBC reports that this process "has still to be completed." Eleven percent of Brazilian territory, however, and twenty-two percent of the Amazon is now said to be in Indian hands. That's more than we can say of our own country.
Dr. Yvonne Sanders-Butler, principal of the Browns Mill Elementary School in Lithonia, Georgia, has kicked sugar out of her school, and what a difference it has made. In 1998, Dr. Sanders-Butler banned sugar from the confines of her school walls: "There are no bake sales here, no birthday cupcakes, no cookies or ice cream." She made this decision after battling her own weight problems and surviving a stroke at age 39. Though there was much resistance to her decision, Dr. Sanders-Butler went ahead with her plan, and in the first sixth months following its implementation ".disciplinary incidents went down 23 percent, counseling referrals decreased 30 percent, and in the first years of standardized test scores, reading scores improved 15 percent."
Not only has the menu been completely revamped, so has the daily routine of the students who attend the school. Every morning the students spend an hour doing jumping jacks, exercising, dancing, and then eat a breakfast of omelets, soymilk, organic cereal and turkey sausages. "When students are healthy, they do their best work...," Sanders-Butler said. "We want to make sure we're providing foods that will not only nourish the body, but also brain foods."
I, for one, applaud Dr. Sanders-Butler for her brave and life-changing decision. In a society where the majority of our food is sold in boxes and cans, with ingredients very rarely taken from nature, it is up to us to take our health back. Dr. Sanders-Butler has proven that it can be done, so let us follow in her footsteps and give our children and ourselves healthier, and possibly longer, lives.
The events of the last week have the makings of a great movie about political corruption. With Barack Obama winning this years election, his seat in the senate has become vacant. When senators lose their seats to either promotions or corruption, it is up to the Governor of that state to decide who takes over. Governor Rod Blagojevich used this responsibility as an opportunity to make some cash. He tried turning the Illinois political scene into an auction, the highest bidder receiving a prominent position in our government.
President Obama has no connection to the governor or the scandal. He has told Blagojevich to resign and has suggested there be an election for the seat, however, Blagojevich doesn't see anything wrong with his actions and has refused to resign. The governor has been under investigation for several years and was arrested last Tuesday for various offenses, including "soliciting bribes." The US Attorney's Office has a recording of Blagojevich bragging about the power that comes with controlling a senate seat. BBC News quotes him as saying: "I've got this thing and it's 'effin' golden, and uh, uh, I'm just not giving it up for 'effin' nothing." Apparently, Blagojevich sees nothing wrong with giving away power based on economic gain rather than the credentials of candidates. Abusing one's power. Lying for selfish reasons. Maybe he's right and he didn't do anything wrong. After all, it is politics.
There is no doubt that fear has an effect on the human mind. In my last article on the constant fear of the imminent end of the world, we looked into some of the catastrophic and life-altering effects of fear. But what wasn’t discussed was how people use our own fears against us to push their own political agendas. Fear and politics sadly seem to have gone hand-in-hand in America, though president elect Barack Obama seems adamant on replacing fear with hope in the hearts of American people.
In a Newsweek article written before the results of the election, Obama talked about his opinions on the power of fear: “We have been operating under a politics of fear: fear of terrorists, fear of immigrants, fear of people of different religious beliefs, fears of gays that they might get married and that somehow that would affect us.” Newsweek goes on to talk about the power of fear and claims it is the strongest tool of political persuasion. By talking like they are the ones who can salvage society, people get scared enough to think that without them, the world would be destroyed. What ends up happening is people become so worried that the validity of these claims becomes irrelevant.
A recent example of lies being accepted and used to persuade voters is the recent pass of “Prop 8,” also known as the ban on gay marriage. After the California Supreme Court ruled that not allowing same sex couples to wed would be denying their constitutional right “to marry” in May of this year, the decision still went to the people in November. There were aggressive attempts on both sides to have their desired result achieved, spending a record $73 million to promote their agendas. But the side opposed to the ban spent most of their time (and money) arguing against the blatantly false accusations of some claims (and TV commercials ) from those supporting prop 8. Accusations like gay marriage being incorporated into the education of young children and religious officials being mandated to marry gay couples are just two of the many claims that led to a constitutional amendment restricting the rights of citizens instead of expanding them. The saddest part is that California will now have the struggle of figuring out what to do with the 20,000+ couples that were married in the time between the Supreme Court’s ruling allowing gay marriage and the people’s vote to take it away. Even though these radical claims were proven to be false, they did their job. They got people scared enough that they thought it would be better to be safe and ban gay marriage than to vote and keep it.
This is neither the first nor last time fear will be used to fulfill a political agenda. Fear of the unknown has been a way to scare people for centuries. Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, and even George H. W. Bush have used fear to convince people to do things that they would otherwise never do. In the wake of 9/11, with the American people still in shock at the first attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor, George H.W. Bush claimed that we were going to war with Iraq, making it look like a reaction to the attacks on the World Trade Center. Except for a little fact he left out, Iraq was not the country responsible and the man who organized the 9/11 attacks is still free. Instead we have been fighting a war that arguably should have never happened thanks to a president who made a rash decision and used lingering fear to get the people (and most of the Senate) behind him.
Fear tactics are being used in our daily lives, especially in the media. You can find out what “common household product can kill you” but you’ll have to wait ‘til 10. The most destructive is their reports on the economy, which by now should have simmered to a two minute segment of them crying and screaming “RECESSION!” Fear is why we are where we are. When the economy starts becoming unstable, people freak out and start pulling all their money out of the market. What many don’t realize is that people staying calm, and more importantly people’s money staying calm, is what we need to get out of this mess. If every night we see in big black letters “Stock Market Failing…Heading for Depression” what are we supposed to do? The News feeds on fear and presents it for all to see every night at 5, 6, 10 and 11, and in case you missed it─ noon the next day.
So what can we do? It’s hard to listen to people in power or the news and not be scared. One “answer” (if we can call it that) is to fight the effect fear has on you. We need to become more comfortable with being afraid. F.D.R. was right when he said “the only thing to fear is fear itself” because it’s not someone using fear tactics that’s the scary part, it is them using them successfully. I am not sure if we can ever eliminate fear from the political sphere or even our daily lives, but by becoming comfortable with being afraid we can work on promoting hope instead of being paralyzed. Because when people feel like they have a voice in politics, they have a reason to hope.
Spoken word poetry albums are, to say the least, a mixed bag. I’ve bought my fair share, but it’s rare that I am completely satisfied with the entirety of my purchase. Much of this has to do with the eclectic nature of the genre. Albums often mix purely vocal poems, poems backed by instrumentals, rap-like tracks and skits. The problem I have with this is that I usually end up skipping through the other types of tracks in order to exclusively listen to the poems. It’s not that I have a desire to box poets into the label stamped on the store packaging of their genre; I just like being able to hear the intricacies of a poem uninterrupted.
What sets “Project Roam” apart from other spoken word albums is the fact that it is simply and purely a collection of poetry. Throughout the CD’s impressive twenty-four tracks—double the number you would find on a typical pop album—there are no skits and no instrumentals, just beautifully composed and performed poetry.
Another characteristic that set’s Axiom apart is his deep, booming voice and his rhythmic delivery. Axiom uses a fair amount of rhyme in all of his poems, but they are not framed by a traditional form—such as iambic pentameter—that would automatically give them a rhythm. Instead, the musical flow of his poetry comes purely from his phrasing and personal speech pattern.
One of the poems on “Project Roam” (and one of my favorites) that demonstrates this is “Literarily Me.” In the poem, Axiom, a black man, traces the Western mythological literary tradition of characterizing evil as black. He begins the poem by stating:
I was raised on “Dungeons & Dragons,” “Sorcerer & Sword,” “The Lord of The Rings” and a school called Hogwartz, “The Lion, The Witch, The Wardrobe,” the wolves, And all evil across the board Is immortalized in words and will forever be Described in terms that describe me.
Axiom cleverly lists popular stories that have not only permeated his life, but also our society. Throughout the poem he connects these stories through their dark descriptions of evil and how that impacts a black man, such as himself. Axiom ends the poem with the words: “Black man, black magic, black mail, / They called me evil from my first minute/ Because bad guys wear black… and I was born in it.” Axiom’s play on the word “black” is simultaneously beautiful and haunting, and makes you question who the bad guys really are in these stories.
If a picture is worth a thousand words For the ones I hold there are a thousands verbs. All capitalized with exclamation points In bold type and colored red Like the images are screaming, Like the paper is breathing, Like the ink is weeping, Like the photo is bleeding.
The opening immediately draws the listener in through its clever play on the saying “a picture is worth a thousand words” and its unusual characterization of images as living things. Axiom seems to ask through his imagery, “if the idea of a picture ‘screaming,’ ‘weeping’ and ‘bleeding’ makes you shudder, imagine how the actual people inside the photographs felt?”
The use of incredibly strong imagery continues later in the poem when Axiom compares the atrocities of the Atlantic slave trade, the Holocaust, and more recently, Hurricane Katrina:
African stacked in slave ships like cordwood. Jews piled in ovens like firewood. Bodies floating in New Orleans like driftwood. All in pictures printed on paper made of deadwood.
Again, Axiom uses the theme of a photograph to frame his subject matter and then connects his imagery through common language. The idea of portraying these three seemingly dissimilar events through “wood” illuminates the common problems that connect them. Axiom wants us to act, instead of merely looking at photographs.
Although “Literarily Me” and “Image and That” are two of my favorite poems on the album—and also very serious—not all of Axiom’s poems focus on troubling topics. In fact, “Project Roam” has a great balance of subject matter. “Sexual Intellectual,” “Kiss” and “My Shoulder” all center on love and affection. “Reflections” is about Axiom’s perspective of himself, and “Facing Fate” focuses on regret. “Project Roam” also includes poems on topics as diverse as Axiom’s childhood, his theoretical death, and writing and listening to poetry.
Due to this diversity and personal focus, “Project Roam” also acts as a form of autobiography. After listening to the album you feel like you have a sincere sense of who Elliot Axiom is and what he believes in. Near the end of the album, Axiom asks: “so what is ‘Project Roam?’” He answers:
Simply stated It’s a collaboration between art and adventure. An external journey to aid the internal. Being able to stand somewhere new to you And hoping that the view will help you View what’s inside of you In a way that is new.
This week Diana Kuruvilla shares a poem by William Butler Yeats
"The Lake Isle of Innisfree" by William Butler Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee; And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnewt's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core. -
Escape: to be able to leave all of my troubles behind and soak in the warmth of my own Innisfree-esque island. This is just one of the thoughts that pops into my mind whenever I read this poem. In fact, there have been many-a-time when I've pulled out Yeats' words in order to conjure up my version of utopia: a world void of the stresses of city life.
Envisioning the small cabin by the glades of a forest with a bean garden and a hive filled with nature's sweetness is enough to make me sigh and wish that I was the protagonist of this poem. To bask in the night sounds of nature's symphony and bathe in peace is appealing, especially to anyone who comes from a large family like I do. When the stresses of life get you down, you can always imagine a place where only you can go, whether it be Yeats' isle or a tropical paradise---real or imaginary. By inviting the reader to take a look at his own private world, Yeats reminds us that the power behind words and our imagination can be tapped whenever and wherever. If the imagery within the poem doesn't grab you, then certainly the lull of Yeats' lyric will. By starting the poem with "I will arise and go now" Yeats invites us to experience with him the pleasures of a place meant just for one person. After extending the invitation, the use of first-person narrative throughout the poem helps build a personal connection between the subject and the reader. The abab rhyme scheme in each stanza invokes the soothing rhythm of lullabies. To anyone who is tired and in need of recharge, just imagine the sound of "lake water lapping" in the Innisfree of your heart's core and breath a sigh of relief.
This week Aisha Douglas and Austin Noel asked Brooklyn College:
What is your favorite Christmas Song?.
"Oooooooooooooooooh,holy night" -Naima Mcfarland
The Run Dmc one. You know it goes like "its chrismas time in hollis queens moms cooking chicken and collard greens..." -Joe Noel
"the weather out side is frightful and but the fire is so delightful. So as long as you love so. LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW LET IT SNOW!!!" -Betty Pierre
"Whichever one Harry Connick Jr. decides to sing" -Carolina Alvarado
"This Chrismas by Donny Hathaway" -Gladys Screen
"The one where Momma kisses Santa Claus, because you have got to love a song that praises Santa's ability to be a home wrecker. -Meaghan Keeler
Anything by Luther Vandross because he was fat and sexy just like Santa. ~Merlene D.
"White Christmas." I'm not sure if I got the name right, but it goes, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the one I used to know...lalalalalalalala...and may all your christmases be white." I LOVE that song. My family spends every Christmas upstate, and it's the most amazing thing to wake up and see everything covered in bright, white snow. It still gets me after all these years...*gets a dreamy look in her eyes and stares out the window* ~Anna B.
Anything put together by the brilliant folks at Z100. ~Joe S.
*singing loudly and badly* Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer had a very shi-ny noooose..... ~Oleg K.
The English Majors' Counseling Office is accepting submissions for The Zine, an annual magazine of student's creative pieces: plays, poems, short stories, artwork, prose pieces etc. Feel free to submit your greatest works to be included! Just email your pieces to bczinesubmissions@gmail.com by February 28, 2009
...and don't forget
BROOKLYN COLLEGE ENGLISH DEPARTMENT AWARDS
These contests require you to submit any writing for the 2008-2009 awards by February 24, 2009 (Tuesday). The essay-writing contests will be held in the second or third week of February, 2009. Consult the rules and guidelines for any prize you wish to enter. A booklet containing all the information about the 2008-2009 awards cycle will be e-mailed to all English majors.
With December in full swing most of us are looking forward to the end of a semester, final exams to take and papers to finish. And then there are those who are awaiting the start of the holiday season and the promise of a brand new year. Reviewing the events of the past couple of weeks has me earnestly wishing for a clean state- a chance for the de-railed world to be set back on its axis and revolve around empathy, peace and a greener future. The Mumbai attacks left an unpleasant metallic taste in my mouth and left me stained with guilt because my motherland was bleeding and I wasn’t there to help staunch it. The Greccian riots protesting the death of a 15-year old has highlighted the pillars on which a democratic government by and for the people stands. The stampede-death of the Wal-Mart employee had me gasping at the vulgarity of consumerism. And the blockading of Thai and U.K. airports in an effort to protest governmental actions have not only stranded passengers, but sent out a rippling wave of awareness worldwide. If the world wanted us to pay more attention, these events couldn’t be a greater call for help: the world’s S.O.S. I’m not saying we need to fly overseas to relieve the condition. We can start right here: in our cities, neighborhoods and schools. Pay attention to the changes around us, lend a helping hand and face the future with a tolerant and open mind. Make it your New Year’s resolution to show concern for the world and be aware. -Diana Kuruvilla
Though men are often admonished to "think with their big heads and not their little ones," it turns out that there might be a link between the two that has previously gone unacknowledged. A study recently published in the journal Intelligence found a link between sperm quality and intelligence. A team from the UK's Institute of Psychiatry analyzed data from former US soldiers who served during the Vietnam War era. They found that those who performed better on intelligence tests tended to have a higher count and more highly-mobile sperm. (...)
It has also been found in previous studies that women favor intelligent men not only for long-term relationships, but also for one-night stands. These and other studies imply that intelligence is closely related to individual genetic fitness. Nearly all animals have evolved traits that give them a leg up on competition for a mate. Just as female birds will mate and nest with the male birds whose song is the most robust and intricate despite the fact that a melody will not put worms in the chicks' mouths, human females swoon over witty and articulate gentlemen despite the fact that "You can't get the saber-tooth not to eat you by telling a joke."
Evolutionary psychologist Geoffry Miller even suggested that traits such as intelligence, creativity, and humor may have evolved only because of choosy women!
Cure for Wolf Boy? Pruthviraj Patil is eleven years old and suffers from Hypertrichosis, also called the werewolf syndrome. There are fifty other people in the world (that we know of) who have this rare disease, which leaves most parts of the body covered with hair. Pruthviraj just wishes for a normal life, where he can go outside without stares and looks of disgust and where he does not need to shave his entire face regularly. Now, there is hope!
Scientists at Columbia University might have found a cure: testosterone. The British Newspaper The Sun writes, “They say by injecting patients with testosterone – a technique ironically used to prevent baldness – lab technicians can stunt hair growth in those affected.” Although it is still too early to know what the long-term effects of the medication are, the scientists are confident. -Chantal Hauser Source: The Sun
New Therapies to Deprogram Jihadists (Including Candy Bars!)
Back in 2004, the Munasaha program was initiated by the Saudi government to integrate ex-members of extremist Islamic groups back into society. The program, once a cause for concern from Human Rights Watch, since 2007 has greatly softened their deprogramming practices and begun using western psychiatric theory to complement traditional Islamic techniques. Art practice, group talk-therapy and cognitive exercises are all part of the new strategy. Awad al-Yami, the program's head psychiatrist, commented on the power of art therapy in working with former terrorists: “I ask them, ‘If you blow up a car, what will happen?’ The paper gives them a safe place to express some destructive emotions.”
While participating in the two-month program, ex-terrorists live in The Care Center, a vacation complex rented out by the Saudi government. New inmates are given a welcome bag filled with luxury items. New clothes, home electronics, soaps and office supplies are among the gifts. The Care Center’s recreational activities include Playstation 3, volleyball, foosball and ping-pong, and inmates frequently snack on Twix and Snickers bars. Journalist Katherine Zoeft writes, “The atmosphere at the center — which I visited several times earlier this year — is almost eerily cozy and congenial, with mattresses and rugs spread on stubbly patches of lawn for inmates to lounge upon.” (...)
In interviews with former terrorists, John Horgan, director of the International Center for the Study of Terrorism at Penn State, has found that most young men don’t join Islamic extremist groups for religious reasons. “Terrorist movements seem to provide a sense of adventure, excitement, vision, purpose, camaraderie…and involvement with them has an allure that can be difficult to resist. But the ideology is usually something you acquire once you’re involved.” The comfy, borderline-lethargic habitat of The Care Center presents ex-terrorists with the fruits of a safe and stable existence.
After completing the program, former jihadists work with social workers to begin reintegrating into society. The first order of business? Helping the young men find wives. Abdulrahman al-Hadlaq, program administrator for Munasaha says, “Getting married stabilizes a man’s personality…he thinks more about a long term future and less about himself and his anger.”
The Munahasa program claims 100% success in deprogramming ex-jihadists. However, the system is still new. Its long-term effectiveness in preventing young men from re-joining terror groups is unknown.
Gillian Welch – Country Music’s “Gateway Drug” Artist
My whole life I’ve had an aversion to country music, which is strange considering my favorite singers are heavily influenced by the genre. Bob Dylan for example—his first album is a collection of folk/country covers, and I love it! I’m a huge fan of Tom Waits, and his best songs borrow structurally and instrumentally from country.
The problem was that I’d never really connected with a “proper” country singer. But a few months ago I was introduced to Gillian Welch, and within seconds my country cynicism shattered. The album was Time – the Revelator, and from the opening bars of the first song I was literally hypnotized. (...)
Welch does for me what I always hoped a country singer could do, but for some reason never did. She kicks up my nostalgia for rural America – wheat blowing in the wind, the old pick-up, apples in the fall – without giving me that queasy over-sentimental feeling. Even on songs like Red Clay Halo and I want to Sing That Rock n’ Roll, where the country/bluegrass vibe dominates, there’s a modern sensibility. It’s definitely country, but it’s her own brand.
Welch’s singing voice is warm and streamline. Her conversation-casual lyrics dance in perfect sync with the tempo of each song, rhyming and slant-rhyming effortlessly, delivering true-to-life, yet understated images that make lasting imprints. Check out these lines from Dreamed a Highway:
Sunday Morning at the diner Hollywood trembles on the verge of tears I watch the waitress for a thousand years Saw a wheel inside a wheel Heard a call within a call And I dreamed a highway back to you
To me, this is peak songwriting. Every line is like a little story with a unique design and emotion, yet each is intuitively linked to the whole. Dreamed a Highway is almost 15 minutes long, but with twelve or so verses equally as strong as this one, each time I listen, it’s over before it begins.
My only fear now is that Gillian Welch will act as a sort of gateway drug into the world of country music. I don’t want that to happen. I love Gillian Welch, but I still think most country music is hokey. However, as a general rule of thumb, when a singer snags my heart, I go with it regardless of genre. Know any good polka singers?
People can change. Take me for instance; I used to be a snobby music purist and now I’ve changed. For example, I liked Old Dirty Bastards “return from the 36 chambers” at its initial release in 9999, but his consequent embrace by the majority made me stop listening to him. I can admit it now because I know it was wrong. A lot of times music-ians and music-nerds equate an artist’s mainstream acceptance with their credibility as an artiste’. It’s elitism at its finest, or reverse elitism if you consider that many musicians are initially inspired to play music in response to social rejection, but I’m digressing, and in a really nerdish way.
Old Dirty Bastard (aka Big Baby Jesus, Sweet Baby Jesus, Dirt McGirt, Dirt Dog, Russell Jones, Osirus,Ason Unique,Joe Bananas,Old Dirty Chinese Restaurant, Peanut the Kidnapper, The Bebop Specialist, The Man of All Rainbows, Prince Delight, The Professor Rain Man, Super Bastard, RJ Tha Mad Specialist, Freeloading Rusty and Hasaan) gained recognition as a part of the Wu Tang Clan, whose fantastic 9999 debut album “up from the 36 chambers” won the group mainstream approval without losing their street credibility—no small fete. It wasn’t until after ODB’s solo release that he individually became a media darling by doing crazy things like changing his name every five minutes and interrupting awards shows with the disjointed declarations that came to characterize him. But aside from being the “crazy one” in the Wu Tang clan, was OBD somebody special?
There are many moments during his record I once regarded as trite and funny or incidental, that I now understand as meaningful. On the Wu Tang debut, Method Man informs us that the Old Dirty Bastard is named as such because “there is no father to his style.” Return is truly a unique album for just this reason: you have never heard another rapper like ODB. Over the RZA’s distinctive beats, ODB goes from weirdly scatting and making noises to singing a bizarre love song where he channels Blowfly to rap verses that detail the religious doctrine of his chosen religion, the five percent nation.
The five percent nation or the The Nation of Gods and Earths is a religious group formed in Harlem in the 1960’s by Clarence X, a one time member of the Nation of Islam. After becoming disenchanted with the teachings of the NOI, X left the order and began to develop the tenets that would become the five percent doctrine. He created the supreme mathematics and alphabet which assign a virtue to each number and letter that when considered alongside the letter or equation’s explicit meaning, are supposed to lead to a more thorough understanding of the universe. Students of the sect learn the meaning of the symbols through the 120 lessons which they are expected to memorize and recite. It is called the five percent nation because it’s subscribers believe that 85 percent of people on the planet are “uncivilized” and don’t know the truth because they have never been told, 10 percent know the truth but choose use their knowledge for selfish evil purposes, and 5 percent who are enlightened with the truth and try to teach it to the 85% in an effort to “free the walking dead.”
Using hip hop music to freight the principles the 5 percent nations, allowed ODB and Wu Tang to educate young “85 percenters” in their own language. Their hope is that the 85 percent, once educated, will change their carelessly destructive ways---because people can, and do, change. Take me for instance.
The paperback novel has always been, in my opinion, a book fit to be sold in drugstores and read by anyone looking for a cheap laugh or some good eye-rolling. However, about one month ago, I found myself Ipod-less and facing a forty minute train ride. After debating in my head for about ten minutes, I finally sucked it up and entered Rite Aid to buy a novel to read while on the train. Lo and behold, I found (underneath a couple Nora Roberts and Janet Evanovich novels) Johnathan Tropper’s follow up to The Book of Joe.
For anyone who has never read his novels, it would be impossible to understand my extreme excitement. Tropper writes novels that read like journals stolen out of the messenger bags of young, tragic, twenty-something men living lives they would never have imagined themselves living. In How to Talk to a Widower, he writes the story of Doug Parker, a twenty-nine year old who is grieving the death of his forty year old wife. Stuck in the middle of suburbia with his late wife’s delinquent son, this novel follows Doug’s journey through grief, which he navigates while dealing with his alcoholic mother, sick father, aggressively meddling sister and the cornucopia of psychotic dates she arranges for him. (...)
“I had a wife, I say to myself, over and over again. Her name was Hailey. Now she’s gone. And so am I.” (8) Tropper manages to address the subject of grief, an incredibly dark subject, with biting, self-deprecating humor, and through the crafting of genuine interactions between the characters. No character is briefly passed over in this novel. Tropper manages to explore the struggles of so many characters at once that I was left emotionally spent after crying with, cheering for and yelling at every single one of them.
What impressed me most, however, was Tropper’s ability to make me connect with Doug’s difficulties in dealing with his wife’s premature death and his intense guilt at moving on, even though I’d never experienced a similar situation.
Tropper’s writing is smart and darkly humorous, with an easy flow and is full of images unexpected in novels of this genre: “It’s just past midnight, and when the doorbell rang I was sprawled out in my usual position on the couch, half asleep but entirely drunk, torturing myself by tearing memories out of my mind at random like matches from a book, striking them one at a time and drowsily setting myself on fire.” (1)
Johnathon Tropper does not sugarcoat in this novel. He isn’t afraid to “go there” and he presents the imperfections of human nature in all their grotesque glory, without the feeling of passing judgment. I recommend this book to anyone who is not afraid of a story filled with uncertainty, moments of gut wrenching grief, and an ending that portrays a character still facing numerous unresolved challenges.
(The following is a transcription of a Ross Gay poem found on the Fishouse website. Though these are the words of the poem, this is not his formatting or punctuation. I kept these details to a bare minimum, and hope you will follow the link to his reading.)
It was with the pudgy hands of a thirteen-year-old That I took the marble of his head Just barely balanced on his reedy neck And with the brute tutelage of years fighting the neighbor kids And equally the knowledge disseminated, not chromosomally, But with the unsubtle and occasional revelation of the gorgeous near transparent skin, the sheathing, the rigidity, of my fathers bony hand, That I leaned the boys head full force into the rattley pane of glass on the school bus And did so with the eagle of justice screaming in my ear As he always does for the irate and stupid.
I made the window sing and bend And the skinny boy too, whose eyes grew to lakes lit by mortar fire Bleeding, with his glasses crooked, “I'm not an animal!” walking in place on the green vinyl seat, looking far away, and me watching him and probably almost smiling at the song and dance I made of the weak and skinny boy who towering above me became even smaller and bizarre and birdlike pinned and beating his wings frantically against the ties (?) of his cage and me probably almost smiling as is the way of the stupid and cruel watching the weak and small and innocent not getting away.
If we take the poem to be autobiographical, then Gay’s thirteen-year-old “pudgy hands” have much to be ashamed of. I’d only heard two of Ross Gay’s poems when I came across “For Some Slight I Can’t Recall,” and the poem moved me to a stop. All throughtout the day I returned to it, on the bus, in line, in class. I returned too to the not-so-innocent scenes of my own childhood—the cruel games poets like Wordsworth and Blake tend to overlook, feeling ashamed of my own capacity for stupidity and cruelty. (...)
What astonished me about Gay’s poem was the unabashed and steady glare of his memory, as he doesn’t spare us a detail or offer an excuse for his irate behavior. The images are real and hard, as are the bony, sheathed, near transparent hands of his father in their ridigity, with their “occasional revelation.” The weak, skinny, birdlike boy is given a voice, as bleeding, his glasses crooked, he yells, “I'm not an animal!” The narrator, too young to understand, believes himself to be strong and powerful. Yet in Gay’s voice is the quality of remorse, and of compassion that makes him the dynamic subject of his own poetry. The ire that as a child Gay inflicted on the weak and innocent boy, he now directs towards his former self. I can almost see him now defending the weak and small and innocent with as much passion and fury, with the same brute force, that he offended him before.
Ross Gay is the author of Against Which, a collection of poetry published in 2006. He currently teaches at Indiana University and in the low-residency program at New England College, is a Cave Canem fellow, and “a demolition man.”
This week Joe Pugliesi and Jacob Victorine asked the students of Brooklyn College to:
Describe your most memorable lie..
“My first big lie was when I was in Jamaica. I was bout 12 and I had just started to not feel the need to stay at home and not socialize. So one Saturday, instead of going to church for a bible quiz practice, I went to the arcade in the town and played video games with my friends. I forgot how late it was getting, so by time I left there it was dark out. When I got home, my mother thought I was kidnapped or something, because stupid me forgot that our next-door neighbor was the woman running the class at church. So to prevent myself from getting a possible whoopass, I told my mom that I went to the practice, didn't see the woman, so I went by a friends house and fell asleep. The next morning I realized that well, maybe she will check with our neighbor, so I told her the truth.” -Mohan Bell
“In 4th grade, I started to notice that I had terrible eyesight. But I was scared shitless of wearing glasses. I was already teased mercilessly (I was a pretty awkward kid) and I was certain that it would only get worse with glasses. So I lied for three years. I memorized the chart at my doctor's office, sat in the front row in class, and squinted when I was sure no one was looking. At the end of 6th grade, my mom sent me to a new pediatrician, where they were familiar with such tricks. They caught me at the annual physical. My eyes were so terrible by that point that I couldn't see much besides the big E. So I cried. Then I got contacts.” -Carolyn Soroka (...)
“I’d have to say it's a toss up between the time I lied about eating the last slice of my sister's birthday cake and the time I told George Bush that there was WMD in Iraq.” -Nicole Lebenson
“When I cut my beard, you remember my mountain man beard, it was awesome. Some friends of mine really loved it, basically because they would never have the balls to grow one themselves. The first time I saw them after I cut it, they couldn't believe it, they were like, ‘why did you cut your awesome beard?’ Instead of giving the lame real answer, I said I lost a bet during a bowling game in which I couldn't bowl a 200. They believed me.” -Daniel Cohen
In a recent interview with Barbara Walters, President Elect Barack Obama talked about "a return to an ethic of responsibility." Though the idea was articulated in the context of our economic mayhem, it's advice worth applying to our daily student lives. With finals fast approaching, the reality of a failing grade or a less than satisfactory term paper takes hold. We are all tempted to make excuses, to make that last dash that can fix all, and repair the 10 weeks worth damage of "putting it off." We'll complain about our professors, "so and so is too inflexible," "so and so just can't relate," but really, the truth is we saw it coming. Whether you truly couldn't do it, or you just simply truly couldn't want to do it, it's time to return to that ethic of responsibility. Stop putting the blame on "circumstances" and take responsibility for your actions. You didn't write that paper, you didn't study for that test, so what's there to complain of now? If you can't save your grade— at least have some dignity. Face up to your responsibilities; be honest, mature, and most important, worth giving a second shot. Who knows, it could be Professor So-and-So just needed to see you grow up.
In my ten years of being a die-hard Hip-Hop fan, I’ve been to my fair share of concerts. From classic 90’s groups such as Public Enemy and Brand Nubian, to later Native Tongue acts such as Mos Def and Talib Kweli, and critically acclaimed top-five rappers such as Nas, I’ve seen it all. I’ve also witnessed spectacular performances from underground emcees like Brother Ali and the leading live act in Hip-Hop, The Roots. Nothing, however, prepared me for the Pharoahe Monch concert featuring Stephanie McKay at Highline Ballroom, Friday, November 21. (...)
Just as I was becoming comfortable playing the role of heartbroken bitter old man, however, Pharoahe Monch reminded me how I first fell for Hip-Hop and why I still love her. His opening act at the Highline Ballroom was Stephanie McKay, a Bronx soul/funk singer who can belt it with the best. I hadn’t heard of her before I bought my ticket, but she quickly won me over. McKay’s voice was clear, powerful and utterly soulful despite the fact that she appeared to be at least seven months pregnant. McKay retired after rocking the stage for a solid forty-five minutes. The crew quickly set up for the main act and after much anticipation Pharoahe finally entered.
Born in Queens, Pharoahe Monch first flourished in Hip-Hop as half of the duo Organized Konfusion for the greater part of the 90’s. The duo dropped three critically—but not commercially—successful albums and split in 1997. Pharoahe received slightly more commercial success with his debut solo album “Internal Affairs” in 1999 and took a long hiatus before releasing his second solo offering, “Desire” in 2007. Judging Pharoahe by glancing at his discography, however, does him little justice. On many tracks he sounds like an outer space preacher speak-singing the gospel of his life while linking strangely striking word combinations into multisyllabic rhymes. Simply put, Pharoahe’s style of flow and wordplay are unmatched in Hip-Hop today—if ever.
The first thing I noticed when Pharoahe entered was the existence of actual musicians. Backing the emcee were his DJ (a member of the legendary DJ crew the X-Ecutioners), a drummer, electric guitarist, electric bass player, keyboardist, two backup singers and a brass section. YES, you read correctly—a rapper had a brass section. The practice of playing with a live band is unusual for an emcee (minus The Roots), but as I hope I am making it increasingly clear, Pharoahe Monch is not the usual emcee.
Pharoahe opened with the partial Public Enemy cover, “Welcome to the Terrordome” and quickly moved into his Hip-Hop manifesto “Free,” which features a throbbing bass and the announcement of his emancipation from the record industry: “You can clip my wings, shackle and chain me/ Back straight standing tall a child of God, I'm... Free!/ Spit in my face, hold me down/ I'ma keep my feet firm to the ground, ‘cause I'm... Free!” “Free” is an excellent high-energy track, but it was particularly poignant during this concert since Pharoahe announced his newfound freedom as a label-less artist. This independence is especially impressive because the “Big Four” record labels—Sony BMG, EMI, Warner Music Group and Universal Music Group—do not only control the fates of most emcees, they also manufacture them.
The audience was rocking after “Free,” but with crashing drums announcing the start of “Let’s Go,” the crowd exploded. Instead of heads and shoulders bobbing—as is the case at most Hip-Hop concerts—they were thrashing. I can’t remember this ever happening before; I actually felt like I was at a rock show—minus people fighting. Fists were pumped, the speakers were blasting and it seemed everyone actually got lost in the music—I know I was.
“Let’s Go” also includes some ridiculously impressive rhyme schemes and wordplay. At one point in the first verse, Pharoahe preaches: “I'm the pinnacle rhyme kid and any line of mine is criminal minded/ I blind 'em with original rhyme shit/ Fall in line with the sick, cynical grime shit/ Clinically approved for you to move your behind with.” Emcees often simply rhyme the ends of bars, but instead Pharoahe uses rhyme and slant rhyme to link eight words: “rhyme,” “line,” “mind(ed),” “blind,” “rhyme,” “line,” “grime,” and “(be)hind” in a miniscule four lines while at the same time using alliteration and playing on multiple meanings of the word “line.” Enough said.
My favorite part of the show, however, may have been when Pharoahe silenced his band fifteen seconds into a song and announced (to paraphrase): “Busta Rhymes once told me if the crowd isn’t hyped enough then you better just give them some more.” He then had them start the track over and proceeded to give twice as much energy to the crowd. This struck me because many emcees would either be too braggadocios to admit they weren’t giving enough effort, or they would just demand the audience be louder—no matter how lackluster their performance.
After performing the majority of his tracks off “Desire,” many from “Internal Affairs,” a couple from his Organized Konfusion days, and even one from the underground classic Rawkus Records compilation CD “Lyricist Lounge 2,” Pharoahe shut down Highline Ballroom with “Simon Says,” a monstrous track that samples the Godzilla beat. “Simon Says” is not the most lyrical of Pharoahe’s songs, but the bass booms like a throbbing heartbeat, and the chorus gets a crowd more hyped than I’ve ever seen.
Pharaohe left the stage for about five minutes and quickly reappeared for a two-song encore after chants of “Pharoahe, Pharoahe.” He mellowed the crowd with one of his more romantic tracks “So Good,” and then made my night by ending the show with an extended a cappella version of a rarely performed track from a skit off the De La Soul album “Art Official Intelligence.” In the song, Pharaohe points out the hypocrisy in the lyrics of many pop rappers and demonstrates his lyrical skills while concurrently bragging about them:
How many n***** who will actually kill still rhymin’? How many n***** who are actually signed still killin’? …and when it comes to killin’ a mic, they ain't willin’ and I'm supposed to be shook? That's the shit that kills me Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish Extinguish the sun when I drew, play pool with the planets Triskaidekaphobia lyrics, outlandish My shit straight from the soul, god damnit It's the one time only, vernacular original Spectacular miraculous flow, computer digital I ridicule the pitiful, piss upon the miniscule Pharoahe Monch, better park that ass like municipal
After an hour and a half performance at an elevated energy, Pharoahe finally left the stage for good. The crowd, simultaneously tired and satisfied, left to presumably go to sleep (it was 2:30 in the morning)—I know I did. I couldn’t have asked for more.
At a Starbucks drive-thru in California, a woman ordered a double tall, ginger snap latte and paid not only for her order, but for the next customer’s order as well. The customer after her also offered to pay for the next customer’s order. What resulted was a chain wave of pay-it-forward orders, each new customer picking up the tab for their fellow coffee connoisseurs, for a total of 109 orders. Pay-it-forwards are not unusual, but the sheer amount of charitable offerings may actually be enough to break the Guinness Book of World Records. Just in time for the advent of the holiday season it’s nice to know that the real meaning of the holidays is still alive and well; at least in the hearts of those who enjoy a good cup of joe.
"Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people." So wrote Karl Marx in his 1843 work Contribution to Critique of Hegel's Philosophy. Marx believed that religion served as a sedative for the working masses, assuaging the pain and hopelessness of a proletarian existence with parables and (empirically unsupported----i.e. empty) promises of a fulfilling afterlife. It provided a population that had been alienated from human nature by the trappings of capitalist society with a collective self-image, an inverted consciousness, a set of fables through which individuals could seek to construct self-identity in a world where they and their labor had been ruthlessly commodified by their unfortunate positions within the relations of production. (...)
Think about it. If the dominant ideology of an epoch dictates that unquestioning piety is the ticket to a comfortable afterlife, then people will be less likely to fight to improve conditions within their waking lives. The promise of posthumous reward appeals to our sense of lackadaisical inertia and overshadows the need to mobilize against daunting social apparatuses of oppression.
But we no longer live in the nineteenth century. Today, in the secularized western world, religion has taken a backseat---but not to proletarian self-realization. Rather, the gilded idols of yore have been replaced by an army of mortal glitterati.
The western masses have largely abandoned dutiful recitations of the rosary for idle perusals of gossip rags. Perez Hilton has more clout than the Pope, and Paris Hilton certainly occupies more space in the collective consciousness than the Virgin Mary.
Why are we so fascinated, despite our better intentions, with celebrity? Because through them we experience vicariously the rewards of an unmitigatedly capitalistic culture. Rewards that we, as anonymous members of the working and middle classes, will never reap.
While it might be easier to tune out and park our minds in Tinseltown, I entreat us all to put down that copy of OK! and read a real book once in a while. It'll do the world a lot of good.
Party of One by Anneli Rufus is out of the ordinary to the last chapter. And there are seventeen of them. Her main subject is the loner, not the lonely person, but the person who chooses to be alone. You might think, “that is strange” or, “how weird” but to be completely honest I would have to respond, “No, it is not.” Some people think they are alone. However, to be truly alone means divorcing yourself from all human contact. Once you’re there, it can be a bit daunting.
Tom Hanks’ character in "Castaway" was truly alone, yet he created a companion from a volleyball. ‘Wilson’ became the tangible conduit between the character’s reality as he remembered it and his present reality. In short, he was forced into becoming a “party of one.” Having to depend on yourself for everything completely changes your perspective.
Each of us harbors an inner loner, but most of us are socially conscious enough to know when to turn that personality trait on and off. With experience, we can learn to navigate in, through or around practically any conversation, situation or issue. But all of that exertion requires periodic moments of respite. Therein lies the catch twenty-two: being on requires entertaining, which can be draining, yet it is an almost irresistible challenge. After recharging, and just enjoying being alone, the challenge of engaging in society again always draws us back in… and the cycle continues.
In addition, the author complements her chapters with factual news excerpts. For anybody out there who does not comprehend the concept of a loner or just does not understand it (and those are usually the people who are fast to judge), the news perhaps makes it easier to grasp. All in all, I recommend this book to you because it's simply interesting and deals with a contemporary subject. Overall, it should make you think about when it became acceptable and “normal” for society to judge people who simply want to be left alone.
Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow— You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand-- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream.
-Edgar Allen Poe
Edgar Allen Poe was a Jack of all trades in the 1800’s. An accomplished poet and story writer, he is truly one of the great American writers. He is mostly linked with the Gothic period as one of the most famous writers from that period. Some of his well known works are The Black Cat, The Tell-Tale Heart, The Masque of the Red Death, The Raven, and El Dorado. The list can go on and on.
A Dream Within A Dream caught my eye with its name. (...) My favorite, however, philosophical element--the thought of living life in a dream. In the first stanza, I imagine a man leaving his initial life behind. Nothing is what it seems anymore and this is his escape. The rhyming works well here and keeps the piece moving.
I see him on the beach , facing the water from the land, with the sand falling from his hand. It’s like time and reality slipping through the cracks and he’s just trying to hold onto whatever he can grasp. His screams to God for this escape from reality. He wants more than living in a place where nothing seems to exist. I like being able to see something in my head while reading a poem. For me it's of a man searching for reality in an unreal world. It reads like a short story because of these images and the story that is being told.
It's never too early to submit to the Junction! Send in your poetry, short stories, and artwork to bczinesubmissions@gmail.com and bring a hard copy to 3416 Boylan.
The Poetry Club meets from 12:15 pm to 2:15 pm every Tuesday in room 2307 Boylan. Poetry Club is open to all creative writers, so stop on by!
Stop by 3416 Boylan during the week to pick up a copy of the latest Junction and information about majors, publishing opportunities, internships, and more!
Created by Dr. Roni Natov's English Majors' Counseling Office Executive Editor: Dr. Roni Natov
Editors: Kerri Byam, Katherine Conte, Joel Cruz, Nora Curry, Kerry Gertner, Sarah Gonsalves, Tumpa Mira, Margaret Sarsfield, Ryan Skrabalak, Ocean Vuong
News Brief Editors: Kerri Byam, Nora Curry, Ocean Vuong
Culture Corner Editor:
Ryan Skrabalak
Poem of the Week Editor: Joel Cruz
Currently Reading Editor: Sarah Gonsalves
Currently Listening Editor: Nora Curry
Currently Watching Editor: Katherine Conte
At a Starbucks drive-thru in California, a woman ordered a double tall, ginger snap latte and paid not only for her order, but for the next customer’s order as well. The customer after her also offered to pay for the next customer’s order. What resulted was a chain wave of pay-it-forward orders, each new customer picking up the tab for their fellow coffee connoisseurs, for a total of 109 orders. Pay-it-forwards are not unusual, but the sheer amount of charitable offerings may actually be enough to break the Guinness Book of World Records. Just in time for the advent of the holiday season it’s nice to know that the real meaning of the holidays is still alive and well; at least in the hearts of those who enjoy a good cup of joe.
Posts
