5 Reasons Halloween is Awesome

5. The History – if you want to do something vastly entertaining on Halloween approach 2 grad students (any major will do but history and theology are the most diverting) and start asking about the origins of Halloween and which religions it’s based in. They’ll get into a huge stinky argument that you can laugh at for a couple of hours. The origins and history of Halloween are tied up in Pagan celebrations and Christian feast days and can probably never be accurately untangled – but who gives a shit? Folklore is part of Halloween and talking about whether or not the Celts influenced the Christians or vice versa is splitting hairs – we’re just hoping to hear stories about human sacrifices on BOTH sides of the argument.

4. The Sexy Costumes – sexy Halloween costumes are Loki’s gift to internet comedians. Pre-made sexy Halloween costumes are idiotic, obvious, cheaply made and far too expensive for the amount of material and workmanship presented in packages labeled “saucy pirate” and “hot devil’s helper” and “sexy Big Bird.” There are only two kinds of people who buy sexy Halloween costumes from Party City or Super Halloween Discount Warehouse or the internet: people who are energetic enough to go to the gym regularly and want to show off but are too lazy to put the effort into a real costume, and people who are so stupid that they’re the reason that Q-tips come with safety warnings and that every class of kindergarteners has to be reminded that paste isn’t food. Every Halloween party you go to after the age of 14 will feature a Sexy Female Ninja Turtle fucking a Sexy Mario in the closet while a Sexy Princess Peach alternately cries and vomits into the kitchen sink, or some variation thereof, and that kind of tragedy is so chock-full of schadenfreude that every hipster in a 12 block radius will be masturbating furiously beneath his cravat. On the other hand everything terrible that could happen to someone at a party is substantially more hilarious based on the sexiness of his and/or her costume. This relationship is inversely proportional, so if at some point this Halloween you find a Sexy Chester the Cheetah (ears, bra, thong, heels, Cheeto dust) covered in the explosive beer-shit of a Sexy Bull (horns, nose ring, banana hammock, blank expression) my data indicate that you will stop laughing in mid-June 2014.

3. The Candy – you don’t need any more explanation that that. Motherfucking candy. Stuff it in your face and get sugared up like a kid at the drugstore with four bucks burning a hole in her pocket.

 2. The Freedom - when was the last time you got to wear a cowboy hat to work? Unless you're a cowboy, a bouncer at a Country Western bar, or a douchebag my guess is last Halloween. Some of you reading this know the intense, creeping sadness that is Casual Friday; you have to wear stuffy clothes that you hate Monday through Thursday, and on Friday you get to wear polo shirts, dockers and terrible shoes. This is one of the biggest ways that working in an office will fuck with your head: acceptable office attire is more narrowly defined than acceptable clergy attire, and it doesn't include awesome hats. If you work in an office and show up wearing a T-shirt on Friday you'll get more  glares and angry whispers than Nadya Suleman at a contraceptive convention. If you show up in jeans on a Tuesday it had better be to pack up your desk because you'll never live down the day that your Luckys were your only clean laundry. Unless that Tuesday happens to be October 31st. Regular people, those who don't work in offices (I think they're called "happy" people, but it's been so long since I've laughed that I can't say for sure) enjoy the benefits too - but there's no feeling like leaving your jacket on it's hanger in the morning and getting out the corset instead. Besides that the reaction you get carrying a sword on Halloween is a lot more "oh, dude, that's awesome," than the running and screaming you'll get for the rest of the year.

1. The Creativity - Halloween, as it is celebrated in America, is the most day on the calendar. What do we do to prepare for Halloween? Sure there are a lot of off-the-shelf costumes and decorations, but the people who get the most credit and who are talked about the most on Halloween are the folks who carve gorgeous pumpkins into brilliant sculptures dedicated to fear or laboriously create costumes from scratch or practice movements and accents and dialogue to act out their vision. What are the things that you remember from your childhood Halloweens? The history barely comes up, the slutty costumes don't register 'cause you were a kid, the candy is cool but gone in a couple of days, and the freedom doesn't matter so much when adults expect you to wear your underwear outside your clothes at least once a week. But you remember making things. You remember hollowing out a pumpkin and carefully tacking a pattern on the skin, the feeling of a parent guiding the safety saw in your hand, and the satisfaction of seeing your design come to life lit up from the inside. You remember making a costume out of odds and ends in your closet, choosing and discarding accessories for it and choreographing your superhero moves. Even if you used pre-made patterns and costumes as a kid you got to make choices - which ghost pattern you used on the pumpkin, which Disney princess you wanted to be or whether Spider-Man or Batman was cooler. Halloween is about expression, and the fact that it's okay to express yourself publicly (at least some of the time.) Halloween rewards creativity with candy for kids and attention for adults, soothing us and reminding us annually that we were made to make things. That's why Halloween has so many stories attached to it. There may be one or two Christmas movies that come out every year, but there are usually close to a dozen movies fighting for the box office on Halloween weekend. That's why there are approximately 4000 different "sexy" costumes out there - because even if the only thing you want to do on Halloween is show off your tits you want to choose the best way to express yourself creatively while doing so.

Anyway. Happy Halloween. Here's my creative contribution to the surreality of the day, if anyone's interested: It's an angler fish.

Cheers,
Keep making awesome stuff,
     - Alli

Racially-Based Education: What is wrong with Florida?

Florida passed a law in which they will place students in specific expectations based on their race.  The article is below:

http://tampa.cbslocal.com/2012/10/12/florida-passes-plan-for-racially-based-academic-goals/

For example, in reading, 90% of Asians will be required to read at or above their grade level and only 74% of black students will be expected to read at or above their grade level.  The fact that the Board of Education is placing expectations on students based primarily on their race is discouraging and disgusting.  Students, already, are being categorized based on test scores, now with the enactment of this new law it will narrow their possibilities and expectations more.  I always thought that the fundamentals of education was to not segregate, but to recognize that all students, no matter socio-economic or racial backgrounds, have the potential to succeed beyond expectations, and as teachers, we should encourage that.  The Board of Education states that while they are ambitious, they are also realistic.  This “realism” that the Board claims, to me, is a cover-up for their willingness to give up, to throw in the towel; this reflects their lack of trying to figure out how to fix the education problem and to help our students succeed.  This law is proof that the Board of Education has given up on students. 

With this in mind, the day we start to give up on our students and their ability to succeed in school is the day they begin to give up on themselves.  Too many times I have read stories and statistics on students not finishing even high school and too many times have I read about students not being given the proper education to fuel their cognitive development.  This law will only perpetuate the problems that exist in the educational system.  Placing race as a means of viewing and expecting success suggests that we are going backwards in time, viewing the outcome of education of students as demonstrative of the color of their skin.  How will this affect students?  Well, for the students that are placed in the lower percentage, they will think that if even the Board doesn’t have much faith in their academic ability, then why should they.  This is a kind of attitude that so many teachers attempt to draw away from their students, urging them to know that they have the ability to succeed.  If we narrow the expectations of our students, they will not try to succeed, thus they will not be able to live up to their potential.  This will, in turn, add to the already low educational success of our students.  Right now, literacy is low and due to standardized tests taking away from the critical thought that must be embedded in our students, education is suffering.  By implementing this socially and racially demoralizing law, Florida is attributing to the already down slope of education.  By separating students based on race only widens the gap between those who can succeed and those who can’t and in turn, segregation becomes the focus. 

How this law was able to pass is unbelievable due to the fact that it discriminates based on race.  How is this acceptable?  How do those who helped this law pass not see this as a potential danger to certain students?  How do they not view this as a way of contributing to the failures of certain students, never knowing their full potential?  What will happen to the future of these students who fall at a lower percentage?  I fear the inevitability of this law.  I fear the gap will grow and segregation will once again rear its ugly head.

Faithfully,

Cristina

Resurrect the Dead

My grandfather and I used to have reading time. He never read to me, rather, we sat in the same room and read our own books. He was a very insular man, short on affection, long on inappropriate humor. The Korean War, a failed marriage, and an orphaned childhood made him appear intimidating to most. I was always an inquisitive child but most of the questions I posed to him were left unanswered. He was a fan of vague responses that signaled you were poking your nose where it didn’t belong. Don’t get me wrong--he cared for me a great deal. His unspoken love was demonstrated through home cooked meals, a hand crafted dollhouse, and hours upon hours spent together in our private time kept away from the rest of the world. We had an unspoken understanding that we were each journeying through literature--albeit, in a solitary, yet, conjoined effort. Everyone in the family knew I was his favorite, but even I didn’t have access to any of his private memories or thoughts.  He died soon after I graduated high school and I immediately set to having a sort of internal script to turn to. When I would describe him to others I had a catalogued list memorized. I retold the same memories so many times that I began to feel like he existed in this finite role that I had assigned him. It made it easier. My feelings were less muddy. He was this, that, and the other. He did this, that, and the other. No room for ambiguity, no room for unresolved emotions.

 

 Then I found an old box of his books. I found the unopened card I had left for him when he entered the hospital. I found endless Charles Dickens’ novels. Strange relics from the past began flooding me with memories. Recently I’ve started reading his copy of A Tale of Two Cities. What I am discovering is astonishing. He wrote in the margins and even bracketed his favorite passages (which is something I’ve always done). Through this text I am able to relive a journey taken years ago. I am able to unveil intimate emotions and reactions from a private man who rarely spoke a word. I am able to once again recognize that he was a man of magic and not just the tough guy with the gruff exterior. My point, which echoes Alli’s most recent blog, is READ! I’ve often had paralyzing dreams where I ask him if he is proud of me. I suppose we all have that vanity that is searching for some sort of resolution and approval. But dreams go unanswered. Instead, I now look to tangible evidence. To all the naysayers that write reading off as escapism I provide an alternative. Reading can help you confront reality. It can bridge time and transport you to the past while still allowing you to relish in the moment. That’s all, for now.

Take a break for a book

Hello writers, students, professors, bloggers (i.e., readers.)

We are all spectacularly busy people here; the editors of AFLM all work, try to run a magazine, blog regularly, and make an attempt at having some sort of healthy social life, and I'm sure the same is true of you. You're a busy person and it's a busy world we live in, full of distractions and a thousand things a day that can suck away your time. So why not give into one of the most edifying time-sucks around and read a book?

I haven't been reading much recently and I've been worse for not picking up one of my favorites and re-reading it for the simple joy of getting out of my head.

I've been buying books, collecting them into neat little stacks, occasionally re-organizing them either alphabetically or by the order in which I'd like to read them, looking at them and thinking about them, but not reading them.

All of us here know that books are fantastic, but it's easy to skip reading the literature that you like when you have to read 600 pages a week to keep up with your classes, or when you know that there's a stack of ready-to-grade essays sitting at home.

Sometimes the other stuff can wait. Sometimes it's more important to pick up a book that's as well worn and known as your favorite pair of jeans and sinking into it like a hot, scented bath for your brain.

I had a lot of plans last weekend, plenty of things to get ready for this week, and a pretty heavy schedule planned for Saturday. I had to get my oil changed, my car smogged and registered, take cash out of one bank and put it in another, meet with friends for dinner and prepare for an impromptu dessert party.

Most of that went straight out of the window when I impulsively threw Chuck Palahniuk's Rant in my purse as I was heading out to Jiffy Lube. I started reading while my oil was being changed and never really stopped. A few things on my schedule stayed on target but a lot more got brushed off, and you know what? It wasn't the end of the world. Looking back I realized that reading the latest Stephen King instead of finishing class reading didn't herald the apocalypse either. Nor did rereading LOTR cause the heat death of the universe, even though I did so when I was supposed to be studying for finals and planning my wedding simultaneously. Reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at my friend's son's 6th birthday party did cause a few problems, but who cares when a 6-year-old calls them a nerd?

Reading a book - good or bad doesn't matter - for the sake of the pure joy of reading is a better balm to my mental bruises and a better boost to my productivity (after I've finished, of course) than anything else I can think of.

It's a busy world. We're all busy people.

Read something you love anyway - the stars will keep their places in the sky, I promise.

If anyone is interested in a fantastic place to pick up reading (or procrastinating) material, try checking out Thrift Books online - fair selection, great prices, and (typically) free shipping make it pretty easy to always have an escape route from reality on hand.

Cheers,
Stay sane,
     - Alli

Strange Sounds

I was recently introduced to these Youtube videos from across the world documenting a strange sound coming from the sky.  One of the links is below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNVOnGGbaFU

There are many videos of these strange sounds all over Youtube, and many people, of course, have come up with their own assumptions of what they might be.  Many think that it is the trumpet of Gabriel coming down for Judgment Day.  The fact that we are nearing December 2012 (Mayan calendar ends December 21, 2012), many think these sounds are the markings of the end of the world.  Others, however, believe that the sound is documenting an alien presence.  Whatever the assumption might be, people who have been watching these videos feel that it is something bad.  However, there are many who say it is one elaborate hoax that gained international appeal because of the accessibility of Youtube.  One man posted a Youtube video debunking the strange sounds, saying that it is a hoax.  People are just recycling the sound in their videos and using footage of a landscape or neighborhood as the backdrop.

This got me interested in hoaxes and why people do them.  In 1938, an episode on the radio for H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds was broadcast as a series of news bulletins narrated by Orsen Welles.  Because the bulletins sounded so real, the broadcast actually instilled panic and fear into a lot of people.  Although, this wasn’t intended to be a hoax, it has been claimed one due to the reaction of many of the listeners believing that an alien attack was occurring. 

Why hoaxes?  What is appealing about them?  Why do people play them?  I think one of the reasons is this fascination with documenting.  With the accessibility of the Internet, especially Youtube, and video use on our cell phones, it is easier these days to be a documenter.  We used to rely on what we saw on TV to document strange occurrences and events, but now we have that ability and as a result, some people abuse it.  This love of documenting and reporting leaves viewers with a lot of ambiguity as to the authenticity of the footage.  Many of us, so badly, want to believe some of the things we see on these videos, like alien sightings, etc. because it could answer many ultimate questions that reside in all of us, whether alien or religious.   With that in mind, these kinds of videos are posted to feed on people’s beliefs, to help them continue to believe or to change them. 

So many want to believe and to be proven of their beliefs that these videos are used to facilitate and entertain them.  However we react to them, they will continue to be posted for our amusement and maybe even to open our minds a little further to the possibilities that might exist.

Watch the link I have posted…is it real? 

Faithfully,

Cristina

End of an era or the next step of a critical evolution?

Newsweek announced this morning that it is closing its print doors at the end of the year. This announcement is made just months before what would have marked the magazine's 80th anniversary.

On one hand, this announcement is an unquestionably big deal, one that signals what can only be the first of many because if Newsweek, one of the most established and well respected newsmagazines, does it why wouldn't anyone else? And a move like this helps to disqualify the oft-repeated head- in-the-sand claim that print journalism will continue on because there will always be a demand for it.  At this point, that notion seems to simply be an unsupported one. All those people up in arms about the potential death of print journalism a few years ago? Where are they now? I can tell you this much: their numbers, not to mention their influence on the industry, are small.

And while some may be saddened by and/or nostalgic about this news, the depth of their emotions are likely to be begrudgingly overshadowed by the fact that Internet news and column-style journalism just makes too much sense. If anything should be online- the ultimate accelerator of easy communication and info sharing- isn't it the news? And isn't it global perspective and commentary? The foundation of journalism is firmly based in utilizing the available means of communication. To hold onto a model that is quickly becoming outdated is to become complacent and to lack innovation. For journalism to survive and thrive, it must move forward.

Besides, I can't remember the last time I waited to read what Andrew Sullivan or Jessica Bennett had to say in print when it was already online.

But also I hate the idea that I'll never be able to read another Newsweek, and soon to follow another newspaper of any kind, on anything other than a backlit screen. But the fact that we spend all our time staring at things that are glowing will have to be the topic of another blog.

I have more to say on this matter... but I'm reluctant to do so after a long day of work and without further forethought. So for now, stay turned.

Illness

It’s October, which everyone knows means that shelves in shops, gas station countertops, and the decorative flag your grandmother hangs out of her front window will all be emblazoned with pink ribbons and the words “Support Breast Cancer” until November. I don’t want to shit on curing cancer here, but I’ve got something of a problem with the way we’re trying to go about it. 

First off there’s the fact that dedicating a whole month to the process of raising awareness is actually hugely counterproductive when it comes to actually making money to cure cancer. Because you can, in October and November, purchase batteries with pink ribbons printed on them and cookies that look like moustaches, and because you can shell out a dollar at the drug store for rubber bracelets that say things like “I heart boobies” and “Movember,” you’re not going to donate any money to any groups that actually cure cancer. People support awareness campaigns because it’s easy to be “more aware” than it is to make a donation and we, as humans, get an endorphin high from feeling like we have accomplished something without actually getting anything done.

After you’ve dealt with the problems of awareness-based rather than donation or researched campaigns you come to the question of where the money generated by these campaigns is going. Well, in the case of Breast Cancer Awareness it’s largely going to breast cancer, which is a good thing except that breast cancer is the third leading cause of death for women (and then only for women over fifty) coming in behind heart disease and lung cancer. Sure, there’s a Heart Health Awareness month, a Sudden Cardiac Event Awareness month, and so on, but can anyone tell me when they are? Without peeking? I didn’t think so. This might not seem like such a big deal except that because of Breast Cancer Awareness there’s a disproportionate amount of fear in young women that they’ll die of breast cancer. This leads young women to get unnessecary tests and, because they think they’re taking care of themselves by focusing on the biggest, scariest monster out there in the world of health, ignoring things like high cholesterol and high blood pressure right up until they start having a heart attack (the symptoms of which they’re misinformed of because popular media typically sees heart attacks as a men’s health issue and tends to only portray men’s heart attack symptoms.) 

The other place where money goes during Breast Cancer Awareness month is to the companies who partner with various pink ribbon organizations. Companies like Coca Cola and KFC and Avon, all of which either produce or promote products (or in the case of Avon, product ingredients) that have the potential to increase breast cancer risk. Yeah, that sounds sensible, right? Companies whose products increase breast cancer risk make a buttload of money by selling those same products in pink containers every October. Oh, and in case you didn’t read the Forbes article I linked up there, take note that actual cancer survivors have trouble fitting and finding support in to a lot of the pink ribbon events since the events are so positive, peppy, and full of we-can-beat-it spirit that people who have survived or who are fighting cancer bring down the party for the only-in-October crowd.

Okay, so I've bitched a lot about breast cancer and Breast Cancer Awareness - why? Because last week was Mental Illness Awareness Week and I had no idea. Which is pretty terrifying considering that suicide is the 4th leading cause of death for adults between 18 and 65, with approximately 40,000 deaths by suicide in the US each year, a number that in itself is widely considered underestimated since many suicides are reported as accidents or complications of accidents or drug overdoses. And that number doesn't take into account the rising number of deaths among schizophrenics, cardiac deaths in female anxiety sufferers, or all of the early deaths caused by complications of mental illnesses.

I was diagnosed with clinical depression, compulsive and anxiety disorders in 2004. I've been living with mental illness and all of the problems associated with it since I was 17 years old, and so have a lot of people I know.

School has just started back up at Cal Poly and there are hordes of students wearing pink bracelets and advocating mammograms (about 30 years too early for most college students) all while being surrounded by people who are at risk TODAY for all of the dangers of mental illness.

Breast cancer is terrible, and it kills too many people - we should work on fixing it, and we are researching cures and causes, which is a very good thing. But mental illness is largely unrecognized and stigmatized - after ally, you've probably never heard someone with breast cancer being told to "snap out of it" or "just get over it" or "grow up."

So my rant about breast cancer awareness isn't really about breast cancer, it's about mental health and our attitude toward it as a culture.

And it's a way for me to tell anyone out there who is coping quietly with mental illness that you're not alone, it's nothing to be ashamed of, and that seeking treatment isn't weakness - it's okay to ask for help.

Here are some links; be safe, and be kind to one another.

Suicide Prevention Wiki
.GOV Resources

Cheers,
Alli

What Does it Mean to Be a Man?

From the desk of Tim Jewell...

From my oldest memories, I remember being raised by my mom and observing every day how strong a woman she was. She pulled herself out of a family situation that nearly destroyed her will to achieve her ambitions but, instead of living up to the low standards that her family expected her, she went back to college late in her adult life and fulfilled her lifelong dream of becoming a teacher and an expert in education and classroom instruction.

Why do I detail her life? Because I grew up in a household that had a woman as the primary breadwinner and inspiration to her children. My brother and I grew up following her example both intellectually and emotionally and developed ourselves based on the support and resources that she gave us, and each of us grew into men that, I say with pride, are very different than the average American male, and very much distinct from the social standard to which many men in American and worldwide are held and expected to imitate. My brother and I grew up in a home that was structured around what I would consider feminine values, at least judging by the perspective that America has applied to its expectations of men and women both.

You know very well what I'm referring to. Men are, and have been, expected to be the head of the household for millennia and, even in a society where gender roles are seeming to become blurred, are expected to be tough and emotionless. The closest that our society allows men to true honesty is humor - though this goes far beyond simply the male role in America, it is especially noticeable in the dynamics of dating in the teen and twentysomething world - and the ultimate ideal for a male's self-development is expected in the culmination of his body into a muscular, sports-toned, sexualized machine.

Think of it this way, both male and female readers: when you step out in public and observe people walking by at a quick glance, who do you notice?

If you say you noticed the not-quite-skinny nerdy girl with glasses who is reading Charlotte Bronte by herself on a bench and gazing contemplatively at the crowd passing her by, or the tall scrawny kid wearing running shoes focusing intently on his schoolwork with only a brief glance up to watch the leaves, then you're probably lying.

The men and women who turn heads are the toned, athletic, fashionable, sexy types. And when I say sexy, I don't just mean slightly attractive or cute: I mean the Ryan Gosling types who turn heads with merely a thin V-neck shirt and a vague motion of their hands in your direction. I mean the Beyonce types who wear their cleavage and short dresses like a uniform and perform nuanced and lithe movements that make your body react in ways you didn't think possible.

There is something fundamentally disturbing about this occurrence:

The men and women who turn heads are idolized and noticed and fawned over for the way they appear, the way they move, and in some cases, the way they talk or joke or laugh or act during even brief conversations.

And this seductive first glance from the voyeur to the person being viewed can often carry over into the more personal and intimate aspects of a person's daily life: they might pass this person often or notice various people on various days who make them swoon at a simple raise of the eyebrows or half-cocked smile. Their attention to strangers and potential romantic interests begins to focus on the looks and the demeanor of everyone they meet who vaguely seems like a good prospect.

This is dangerous.

Building a friendship, or a relationship, or a casual dating situation, upon the foundations of attractiveness or humor or an arbitrary association of that person with "masculinity" or "femininity" is threatening to the possibility of happiness in the future of that relationship for both involved.

I'm not saying that any of us are at fault for this fascination with surface characteristics, and in the end, there is nothing inherently wrong with these qualities in a person. Everyone loves to laugh, to feel deeply intimate sexual desire, and to fit in with categories that ensure a person's comfortable conformity with society at large. These are innate human needs and, to a great extent, we need these to survive and succeed in a world that values these things.

But these traits are only the surface.

There are many incredibly essential and necessary human qualities that are thrown to the side in favor of the traits that I've mentioned. You know what I'm talking about. When was the last time you did a double-take towards someone who spoke eloquently, who recited an obscure poem from memory, who was able to keep you interested in a conversation about serious topics that had nothing to do with Facebook or Instagram? When was the last time someone's taste in music, books, or film swept you off your feet? And when did you last eagerly say yes to someone who asked you to accompany them to an art gallery or a bookstore?

Very basic examples, of course. But what I'm getting at is that hardly anyone looks beyond the surface to the characteristics that truly make us human. What sets us apart from the rest of the animal kingdom is our intellect. Humanity did not survive for tens of thousands of years warring with our neighbors and picking fights with assholes who looked at us the wrong way. Obviously, war and violence are facts of existence, and the body count left behind by ignorance and arrogance is undeniable.

But warriors, fighters, weightlifters, bodybuilders, airhead sex symbols, pop star divas, and teen idol actors and actresses did not carve out the most substantial aspects of society that we love and value today.

So let me get back to my original point before I continue firing ammunition.

What does it mean to be a man? Or a woman, for that matter?

A man is someone who steps out of his comfort zone and takes risks. A man is someone who confronts challenges without fear and uses the best of his skills, knowledge, and ability to solve problems and deals maturely with failure or consequence, without taking out his rage and frustration on others. A man is someone who thinks before he acts and considers issues with foresight, research, and contemplation. A man is someone who is interested in what someone has to say and handles the conversation with the appropriate emotional or mental gravity, not lightening the situation with jokes when unnecessary and not reacting with impulsive remarks.

A man is not just someone who can deliver a knockout punch in a ring or bench 500 pounds.

The poet or author who risks his livelihood to pursue his passion for his craft is just as much a man.

The boyfriend or husband who listens attentively to his girlfriend or wife and treats her with respect and commitment is just as much, if not more, of a man.

The father who respects his children and earns their obedience through his honesty and integrity, allowing himself to be available when they need him, is just as much of, and represents some of the greatest qualities of, a man.

Once again, there is nothing wrong with being a fighter or a weightlifter or an actor or actress with a six-pack or enormous breasts and lips or the life of the party. But physical substance and the ability to entertain are far, far, far less important than emotional, mental, and intellectual substance. If you focus on your physical appearance or public persona at the sacrifice of your mental strength, you are destroying your own possibility of happiness.

When someone truly becomes your friend or decides to pursue a relationship with you, your buff exterior, trendy wardrobe and tattoos, or endless repertoire of movie quotes will no longer matter. What will matter is how you take care of them, how you respond to their good moods and bad moods, how you reciprocate their generosity and love, and how you endure trials alongside them beyond simply offering support and sympathy. These are all qualities of intelligence and mentality, and the happiest individuals living today and in the past and in the future were and are those who deeply understand and emphasize these qualities about themselves.

When you die, the legacy you leave behind will not be founded upon your attractiveness or your humor. The tastes of humanity change at the slightest whim, and if these are the qualities for which you are remembered, then your memory is doomed to obscurity. But humanity always remembers courage, intellect, innovation, individuality, kindness, love, and resisting the shallow and arbitrary social standards of the time imposed on the people of every era.

Hundreds of years from now and more, civilization will develop based on the precedents that we set in our own lives and decisions. How do we want to be remembered? What values will we transmit to our children and the emerging generations? Think carefully about your answer, and do not be afraid to search profoundly within yourself for the right one.

Finish Something...

As I was going through my screenplays and short stories, I noticed they all had one thing in common: they were unfinished.  I find that it is easy for me to begin a story or screenplay; setting up the scene, introducing the characters and slowly pacing to the plot.  However, once I get to the plot, I stop.

How do writers keep going with their stories?  How do they finish?  I realized that a major reason I cannot finish is because I don’t lay out my story before writing it.  I am so quick to just begin writing that when I get to a certain point, I don’t know where to go.  My ideas for the story cease, I get angry and I move to another one.

I believe that if high school taught me anything about how to write well, it taught me how to organize my thoughts.  I think that my problem when writing fiction is that I don’t organize my thoughts ahead of time, so when I do get to the plot, I am stumped; not sure of where to go.  I wonder how many writers have had this problem, and how many of them have had to overcome it. 

I find that as I get older, the desire to be a writer and get published grows, along with the frustration that I cannot finish one story.  I once was told that to be a successful writer, one must write every day.  Whether one writes for a few minutes or a few hours, writing consistently will help greatly; and who knows, it could lead to something great.  But as I busy myself with school and work, it is difficult to dedicate a good amount of time to writing freely. 

I read David Lynch’s book, Catching the Big Fish, in which he compared ideas like catching fish and sometimes in order to have a big idea, you need to catch a small fish first to let it grow into a bigger idea.  Trying to think of this while figuring out a story to write frustrates me because although I don’t usually disagree with what David Lynch has to say, this idea is so simple yet the process is way more complex.  Ideas are like catching a fish, but I don’t always catch them and when I do, they never really grow into anything that I consider worthwhile.  It is so easy for me to get frustrated with my unfinished work that I easily dismiss it and move on to another.

I guess my main goal is to finish a piece.  Don’t dismiss it early on.  And for the sake of having a clear, focused story: organize!

Reagan-Era Necrophilism

While doing some research for a paper I’m writing about Robert Browning’s Porphyria’s Lover, I stumble upon what seems to be GOLD! While aimlessly wandering through JSTOR I find an essay that seems to make a connection between Porphyria’s Lover and David Lynch’s television series Twin Peaks. Relevant to my paper? Absolutely not. Mind blowingly interesting? HELL YES! But alas, much to my chagrin, the essay turns out to be so skewed and wrought full of paper-thin conclusions that I turn away in disgust.

According to the critic, mostly men have praised Twin Peaks.

 Hmmm…problematic seeing as I am an avid fan of both Browning’s poetry and David Lynch’s work and I am indeed a woman.

Also, according to the critic, Robert Browning and David Lynch strongly encourage incest and necrophilia at the expense of the safety of young women.

Hmmm…do I find necrophilia sexually stimulating? No….But yet I am a fan…Ughhh. I just don’t even know who I am anymore!

Side rant--I wonder if she has ever read about the dynamic relationship between Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning? You know, one of the first women poets bold enough to write a nine book semi-autobiographical epic poem about the struggles of being an outspoken woman writer. You know, the whole I refuse to live a caged bird life thing?...Hardly sounds “dead” to me. I guess not. I guess it is appropriate to misread Robert Browning’s poetry and reduce him to a necrophiliac.

Ok…so she isn’t an expert on 19^th century Victorian poetry. I can maybe let her irresponsible reference to Browning’s poetry slide. But when she links Lynch’s Twin Peaks to right-wing Reagan era politics all I can do is shake my head.

Getting to my point: PLEASE—Use theory responsibly! Am I saying that people should stop using feminist theory? Absolutely not. It is relevant and much needed. That being said, it is highly irresponsible to focus on a limited aspect of an artist’s work and do your “thing” all while ignoring the rest of the work that boldly contradicts your argument. I understand you want to get published, but be ethical. By the way- I am not just standing on my soapbox and saying this to the rest of the public.  This is advice I continually give myself when I get some wild idea. Point is, sometimes you need to talk yourself down a little and think through your argument and if and only if you can provide a persuasive case should you move forward.

 

And yes, my title is misleading, disturbing, and just plain incendiary. Now you know how I felt.

Robert Browning is probably turning in his grave. That’s hot.

Of Monsters and Men

I’ve never really been a fan of “monsters” in television, literature, or film – they’ve never done much for me. In the genre of horror, I prefer thrillers rather than monster movies or novels; and, when it comes to popular culture, I’ve never found werewolves, vampires, or any other “monster” to be overly interesting. What I do find interesting, though, is that “monsters” serve a rather important symbolic role.

For instance, werewolves – mind you, this commentary concerning werewolves is a word-of-mouth explication; I don’t know much about them – are said to be one of the most overtly symbolic monsters, as they embody something all humans share, a dark side.

Everyone has skeletons in their closet, and we all have a darker side that we, aware or not, often sublimate into our subconscious; however, every once in a while, we are not able to contain our inner demons. And, for some, the times in which the dark side takes over can be…untamable, to cheekily run along with the metaphor.

This is all exposition, though, and I apologize for the delay. I swear – I am getting at something. What I’m interested in at the moment is, in fact, a monster.  A monster that – and, for the purpose of this discussion, I am using “that” intentionally – I’m beginning to become infatuated with is the Zombie.

Okay, perhaps I should back up. I’m not an uber-fan or anything like that, and, really, I only appreciate them fully in one particular case – The Walking Dead. I am interested in the way the Zombies, or "Walkers" in the case of The Walking Dead, affect the humans in the show. 

Until today, it did not fully strike me how the Walkers functioned in the greater narrative of our real world. I just finished up an episode (S.2, E. 7) called “Pretty Much Dead Already,” and the end of the episode was teeming with strong, overt symbolism (I thought it was pretty overt, anyway).  Without giving away too much, I’ll just say this: the interactions between the humans and the Walkers bear much semblance to the ways in which Americans view “terrorists” in the Middle East.

I was amazed at the dialogue within those last few minutes. Most of the people involved in the scene were talking about the need to kill the Walkers – they repeatedly used the term “Walker” and insisted that they were not sick humans, but undead killers “that” were out for blood. A minority of the people onscreen insisted the opposite, that the “Walkers” were still humans – still “whos.”

This, and perhaps I’m reading too far into things, could serve as a cautionary tale. What happens when we stop seeing humans as humans – even if we claim they are “sick” humans – and we start seeing humans as monsters or rodents or vermin or zombies? Well, maybe you should watch the episode; but in the meantime, I’d like to hear what you all think of the symbolic nature of monsters and men. 

Thanks for reading,

J

Damn the man...man

One of my goals for the coming year is to get back into the swing of academic writing by submitting some conference proposals. I've had a few ideas forming over the last few days and I'd like to take the time over my next couple blogs to explain the gist if my ideas and what I see to be their larger significance. 

The first one I am going to attempt is one I attended in 2010: the Society for the Interdisciplinary Study of Social Imagery. In 2010, I presented a talk on the western frontier in 20th century American literature by exemplifying Kerouac. 

Next year's conference theme is "The Outsider." It calls for papers that explore characters in books, film, television shows, and the media who stand outside of the norm or are counter to the popular standard.  The call for papers asks us to consider why these figures are often intriguing and enduring. No surprise here: Hunter Thompson came to mind. 

An outsider is someone who doesn't buy into the dreams of the average. And this person, because he doesn't share their dreams, often to some extent frightens the average. He wants, openly wants, all the things the rest of us spend our time and energy sublimating, convincing ourselves is wrong to want.  The outsider threatens the average's sense of security because it he can fall, if he can so easily give into his deviant desires, his deviant lifestyle, so can you. 

Many of us do not feel the need or desire to examine our inner animals. And often what the outsider dares to do is not only explicate that animal, but show just how monstrous it can be. This is certainly the case with Thompson's penchant for exploring the extremes of alcoholism and drunk use: how insane, and at times inhuman his characters could be while under the influence. For a culture that see alcohol and the occasional drug intake as par for the course, yet not to be abused, such a presentation was particularly hard to take from a man who, despite his insights, proclaimed, "I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity, but they've always worked for me." That's too much for the average American; just give us what's accepted and what we need to condemn. It wasn't until Johnny Depp more blatantly illustrated some of the humor for mainstream audiences that the book saw any kind of non-cult status popularity. By the way "cult" is the term we used before we had hipsters. 

But, back to the original point here: Thompson's main issue with the average is that he doesn't want the same things and that is clear in his literature and in the foul dust that clearly sat upon his soul: he saw the game that so many of us play, he saw the rat race for what it is and that made him quite critical. Fear and Loathing criticizes what it meant to be an American in the 1970s and nobody wants to be criticized to such an extreme. His only audience: the few holdouts of hippiedom. And even they were likely none too thrilled with his bleak depiction of the failure that was the counterculture movement. And the average thought, if they thought about him at all, "this guy's crazy" for not sharing the desire to just get through this thing without making a ruckus and as unscathed as possible. Give us the picket fences and the security systems and the frozen dinners and we will leave well enough alone. If we are safe, we won't rattle any cages, at least not significantly. 

And I get this desire. I too want my safe apartment and my crockpot and my comfy sofa. 
But that's not all I want. 

But my fear is not that I won't get those things or that wanting something else will take me away from them. My fear is that wanting those things could take me away from my real desires: to really experience this life, to see the world outside of a packaged vacation plan, to sacrifice benefits for fulfillment, to get scratched up. 

And so for me, Thompson is not a person to be feared and his manner of living, completely on the outskirts of society, is not a method to be feared.  His writing is something that should be used to remind us all to do crazy things every once in awhile and to always question, not to ignore that creepy feeling you get in your gut sometimes; according to Thompson, chances are it correlates to some hideous societal ritual in which you've take part unthinkingly. 

We don't have to be as crazy as Thompson, but we don't have to shun him or laugh off every relevant thing he ever said (and man there were plenty) just to reconcile his existence with our very different ones.  

I'm sure these initial thoughts are a bit rudimentary, but I'll be working on them!

-Leena

http://chass.colostate-pueblo.edu/SISSI/Documents/Call-2013.pdf

A Matter of Perspective - Thoughts from the Occupy Generation

If you don't happen to immediately recognize the comic above I won't judge you. Largely because of this comic:

These are recent strips from the phenomenally wonderful webcomic XKCD, which claims to be a comic about romance, sarcasm, math, and language, but is actually about the amazing universe of possibility that all of us inhabit and most of us ignore. But I'll get back to that in a minute.

One of the biggest lies that almost everyone reading this has heard is "you can be anything you want - you just have to work for it." It's a great idea but not everyone can be an astronaut. Most people aren't going to make it as actors or dancers or writers or princesses or artists or even as architects or graphic designers or technical writers. The sad fact of the world is that it needs more data processors than it does ditch diggers, so even the old standby is out.

People talk about my generation as a generation of spoiled, entitled brats. I don't think my generation is particularly entitled, but I do think that my generation was led to expect things that aren't real.

We were told that we would be able to get a great job out of college, which is why we were told to go to college in the first place.

We were told that we "didn't want to work at McDonald's" and so a lot of us are unwilling to take jobs in fast food - largely because the implication through all of our lives has been that working in fast food means you're a failure.

We were told that if we worked hard and put our minds to it, we could do anything we wanted to - but we weren't told that it would take decades working AFTER graduation to move up the ladder and pay dues, all while earning low wages and paying off massive student debts.

We were told that we could "always fall back on teaching" if our field was overloaded, only to find that most of our professors are struggling to get the hours and positions that THEY were promised when they were getting educated, and the line for a tenure position is about a decade long.

We're going out into the working world and complaining that we can't have the jobs we wanted and were specifically educated for because all those jobs are full; we're then told that we're overqualified for the jobs we don't want but can do. "You'd just get bored and leave, or leave if a better offer came along," is the line I heard from potential employers. Well who wouldn't? I've been trained to synthesize vast, disparate fields of knowledge, study information critically and support my findings with evidence and context appropriate to the subject, and the only job I could find that pays well enough to support me is answering phones.

What does that leave us with? Debt, underemployment, dissatisfaction in the workplace, and frustration that the world we were told we just had to work hard for has been denied to us. That's not a sense of entitlement you're seeing in twentysomethings, that's a sense of betrayal.

But just because you probably aren't going to be the next Buzz Aldrin or JK Rowling or Frank Lloyd Wright doesn't mean that you should give up on your dream. You may never get to go to the moon (though seriously, we should get on that - I want commuter flights around the solar system for my grandchildren, dammit) or sign a six-book contract, or build a skyscraper, but that doesn't mean that what you do can't be meaningful to you or to someone else, and even if your work isn't what you REALLY want to be doing there's nothing stopping you from chasing your dreams in your downtime.

Almost none of the writers, actors, musicians, or freak-show performers I know make their living solely based on the art that they love, but all of them make the point to keep up the art anyway. I know a bunch of people in softball, kickball, and roller derby leagues who wanted to be famous, big-name athletes but didn't make the cut. They didn't stop playing sports because they wouldn't be paid for it, they keep playing what they can because sports on the weekends make their weekday lives bearable.

So find a shitty job. Something that pays the bills and bores you to tears and doesn't follow you home. If you wanted to be a writer don't decide that you're going into law because "at least it's something I can do with an English degree" - becoming a lawyer is one of those massive time-sucks that takes over all of your hours and minutes and leaves no time for dreaming. If you studied Chemistry don't become a pharmacist just because "it's at least got SOMETHING to do with my degree." Become a person - a good person - who does your boring, mindless not-in-your-field job well, leaves the office, and then goes home to be a writer. Or a mad scientist. Or an actor or a ballerina or an architect or a graphic designer for a great little magazine that almost nobody reads.

The world may be a terrible place for recent college grads right now, but it's a fantastic place for entrepreneurs. Don't abandon the things that interest you just because you can't find a job where they're relevant; make a part-time job out of them. I don't work for AFLM full time, I don't draw for my income, I don't bake for a business, but I do do all of those things, and they occasionally make me a little bit of money. And I'm holding out hope that something will come from one of them. MAKE something out of the things you care about. Start a small business, write research papers and shop them around to different journals, conduct experiments, draft buildings, translate Greek - whatever it is that you DO and you ARE, do it and be it.

I'm not a receptionist who designs stuff on weekends. I'm a designer who has to work as a receptionist right now. It's all a matter of perspective. The world we live in sucks in a lot of ways, but there are also more opportunities available to us every minute than there were available to our parents every year when they were the same age. We have unique tools and unique skills that allow us as individuals to seek out audiences and find people who appreciate the work that we can do. The world is absolutely alive and teeming with possibilities that we just haven't found yet, and it's our job to go out and look now. Who knows if there's a job out there for a statistics analyst with a background in biology? Is there an employer looking for someone who's familiar with social media and philosophy? Is there a research firm that needs a team of psychologists to pose as waitresses? Who the fuck knows!? Probably all of those things are out there, but its up to us to find those needs and fill those niches.

So look for your joy in unexpected places. If you've got a terrible job make up for it with the time you have outside of work. If you're looking for work remember that just because you're unemployed doesn't mean you can't do anything - build your portfolio or write a children's book or start studying up on biochemistry. Learn a programming language and combine your field with the wide wonders of the web. Find something that drives you, even if you're a long time looking. Look down some day and ask yourself if you aren't really looking up at a universe you've never considered.

Be excellent to each other.
Cheers,
     - Alli

An Education in Rhetoric

After a few classes in History of Rhetoric, I find myself questioning the validity and importance of classical rhetoric.  I read an essay last week which explained the history of the study of classical rhetoric in the academic curriculum and how it was disregarded for a long time.  Rhetoricians, professors and scholars had to fight to get classical rhetoric back into the curriculum and to be seen as important as Literature.  Now, luckily, rhetoric has had a revival back into the curriculum, but the essay made it quite clear that the people who are fighting to keep rhetoric into the academic realm must continue to fight.

This fight for classical rhetoric being taken seriously as both a theory and practice really struck a chord with me.  Although I haven’t had much schooling in rhetoric thus far, I do understand its importance in the curriculum.  So, I have to question, how key is introducing rhetoric into the curriculum for high school students?  In high school, we learned the fundamentals of writing and writing well, reading with comprehension, and being able to speak our minds about a certain literary text.  However, in my experience, I was not exposed to rhetoric or to the importance of debate and orality.  Having said that, I personally feel that as writers and fighters for communication and its validity, rhetoric is a key component in establishing oral skills. 

As much as I believe that literature and writing are crucial within the classroom, not focusing on speech/debate can be problematic in the future.  As we listen to the debates amongst the candidates, we must listen to their speeches rhetorically:  How are they addressing the audience?  What specific kinds of tactics are they using in order to “sway” voters?  These questions arise when I watch the debates and for the most part, it is the study of rhetoric that is aiding me into asking the right questions and answering them.  For this purpose, along with many others, we need to bring in more rhetoric (theory and practice) into the curriculum, especially, in my opinion, in high school.  I feel, along with many others that critical thinking and analytical thought has diminished partly due to standardized testing, and with that, our students are not given the proper tools to learn how to think for themselves (something much needed at the university level and in life, in general). 

So, I end with a question: what is the validity of rhetoric (especially classical) being taught in the classroom and how much of it should be a focus?

Sometimes You Don't Have a Choice

 

 

I just finished my first paper of the quarter. The weird thing is writing gets harder. You’d think that as you practice it would get easier. Somehow it would become habitual, something you could just aimlessly do in your sleep. But it doesn’t. You think about it more. As you read more you realize how strange your sentences sound. Everything feels awkward, inadequate. You also become more intellectually invested in whatever it is you're writing about. As your understanding of the material increases, so does the need for you to accurately depict or capture those moving revelations.

 It’s as if texts become complex people. You begin developing these entangled relationships. You can’t just say “Hey, this is Joe. He’s an okay guy.” You’ve gotta sit with him. Get inside his head. Maybe you hold him tenderly. Maybe you wrestle with him at 3 a.m. But you see what makes him tick and come to understand that you will never be able to pin down why and how Joe is who he is. That revelation is both fascinating and terrifying. He simply can’t be reduced to one-dimensional terms. Which makes you question if you will ever achieve success? Nevertheless, you try to reveal at least one aspect. You try to show the world why he is great. Why he is deplorable. How others can relate to him. Why anyone should give a damn, all in the hopes that you can pass on why Joe moved you in the first place. So, it isn’t just something you have to do to meet a deadline, but sometimes it is something you MUST do it. Because if you don’t, it isn’t about getting a crummy grade or impressing your peers, it’s about not honoring that relationship. It’s because you won’t be able to sleep until you do that person justice. Joe simply won’t leave you the fuck alone. You can go to BJ’s and drink a beer or two. But he is still there. Waiting.

So, ya. It gets harder. But it feels damn good when Joe finally gets off your back.