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In the Studio
So I'm writing this on Sunday, September 5, at 12:30 in the morning as my radio show, "The Bro Show" has it's premier showing. Wait, wouldn't it be a listening? I don't know. Anyway, things are frantic here at WTBU, The BEAT of Boston University. Broadcasting live at 89.3 FM or 640 AM...
Written on September 8th, 2010 in Campus Culture
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Dead and Not So Gone
Late nights under the sky during this past summer left a lot of time to reflect on metaphysical problems that don’t have any real impact on us or society. However, sometimes they can help us internally and give us a little inner peace. The latest thought experiment I have deals with a kind of...
Written on September 8th, 2010 in Keeping Conscious
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Summer Roundup
Hey Culture Shock Readers! Do you guys feel left out because you forgot to check Culture Shock during the summer? Are you a new freshmen or transfer student and are just finding us? Well if so, here are five posts from the summer that are a good starting point for you to check out! Poland- The Nation of Strength- Allison teaches us about her Polish cooking and gives us some history from the country! Born Into Fortune- George talks about how lucky we are to be in the developed world. Thoughts on the “Ground Zero Mosque”- An anonymous writer gives us some things to think about concerning the Islamic Center being built in New York. The Reluctant Graduate- Monica helps talk about the bittersweet feeling from graduating a year early. Embrace Your Inner Dork- Eric nerds out...
Written on September 7th, 2010 in Keeping Conscious
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An Interview with BU Alum Mark Rosewater, Head Designer of Magic The Gathering
Boston University has a great legacy and community of success. With alumni in almost every corner of the world and in almost every profession, you never know who you may have that community with. As a kid, I grew up playing this card game called Magic, The Gathering (yes I'm a nerd). Part of...
Written on September 7th, 2010 in Keeping Conscious
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Taboo
I return to Boston with a tattoo confirmed and a consultation meeting planned. The naysayers dislike it not for the design, or the irrational decision making (I have sat on the idea for a year), or even for the actual process of inking my body, but only because of the stigmas surrounding...
Written on September 6th, 2010 in Keeping Conscious
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If the dining hall food doesn’t kill you, sitting with strangers will.
Apr 15th
Last Saturday, after a morning Culture Shock meeting and a day of homework ahead, which as per usual turned into a little bit of homework and a lot of everything else, I stumbled into Warren Towers to get some lunch. Too tired to see the red and white balloons and too neglectful to notice all the high school seniors wandering around in awe, I walked in on an Open House lunch extravaganza.
By the time I realized my drastic mistake, I had already swiped a meal and there was no turning back. Unfortunately for me, the open house powers (I assume Admissions Office) had reserved the whole back section of the dining hall for the potential class of 2014 and their parents.
This left the front section up for grabs to my brethren of oblivious idiots. And there were quite a few of us. Let’s just say reading open-house warning signs and taking note is not a BU student’s forte.
Grabbing my buffalo chicken sandwich and a Pepsi (lunch of champions and long lines) I made my way back to find a seat. Who am I kidding? I went back to find a table, because that’s how we do at BU. But tables there were none, so I quickly resigned to finding a sole open seat.
Frantically looking about the room I started scanning for friends… acquaintances… classmates… frenemies… and even random people who looked semi familiar from the street. They were no where in sight. In fact, for the first time in my life, BU presented a room of total unadulterated strangers.
This was the time for strategic decision-making and brutal action. Could I possibly share a table with a complete stranger?
The Insecurities of the Cocky and Proud
Apr 15th
We immediately associate insecurity with the kid in the corner, the woman too shy to talk, the man too timid to make eye contact. Yet we all have insecurities and they all stem from somewhere. That somewhere often stems from our sense of self-worth, especially in the outgoing, proud and vain.
In most societies, it seems as though we are tied to the things we are best at. If you are beautiful, you are complimented on your physicality your whole life. If you are smart, we will compliment your mind, from the time of your first A+ to your PHD. Athletes your athleticism, musicians your music etc. etc. This is seemingly natural cycle; it makes sense to associate someone with his or her talents. But what happens when we start to slip, when we are one-upped, usurped off our throne of vanity. O shit… Bring it on insecurities.
This may be why the most beautiful of people spend hours and hours getting ready, why musicians often live and die by the reception of their music, and why the most talented of athletes like Bret Favre and Allen Iverson refuse to give it up, refuse to retire. If we lose the one thing we have been complimented on our whole life, the one thing we have succeeded in, then what else do we have?
It's OK Iverson. Philly still loves you.
This argument is obviously flawed. We should find our self worth in our own feelings, our own thoughts, but realistically we always strive for recognition from others. I am not saying a small amount of insecurity is a bad thing, because it keeps pushes us forward, it keeps us level-headed and forces improvement. But we are more than our greatest talents, we are more than our achievements. So pretty girl, before you skip another meal to stay on top of the beauty hierarchy, smoke a fat blunt and eat some late night. Musicians, own your set even if you’re playing some Jack Johnson at a MetalCore show. Athletes you may be more than your 100 M Dash time, or your Free Throw %. I haven’t found this fine line between outgoingness and insecurity, I am far from it, but I think the journey is warranted, and the quest valiant.
To Serve and Protect…and Deal With Ingrates
Apr 14th
Some of our bloggers have been writing about the people who work for our community but are unappreciated. This past week I was thinking of the people I see everyday, usually in the same spot. The police officers, BU and Boston, that serve our community.
We usually see them when we are walking back and forth from East to West campus, directing traffic during rush hour. When I was walking to West the other day a girl next to me was so distracted by her cell phone conversation that she tried to cross the street three times while the cop kept telling her to wait.
Later that night, I saw a kid arguing with another cop in front of Warren about crossing the street. What made the situation even more disrespectful was that the cop was a woman, and I am almost certain the kid would not have been a smart ass to a male cop.
Even though it seems like they are doing trivial jobs, the truth is that when they sign up for the job of being a police officer, they are prepared to die so that we can go home at night and live our lives.
It is hard to remember to appreciate them when we are in a rush to cross the street (like at the BU bridge when you cross the right turn lane finally and get to the island, the light turns red so you cannot cross) but just paying attention to them and maybe a “thank you” makes their day.
It is the least we can give when they conscientiously act as our guardians.
I ain’t saying she’s a gold digger
Apr 14th
(Sing) When a man loves a woman…
Can you say "cougar"?
And he’s twice her age, (Stop singing!)
Am I wrong to assume that he’s a rich geezer going through a midlife crisis and she’s a digger looking for a replacement father figure?
Perhaps. But if you think about it, inter-generational relationships are most often stigmatized between members of the opposite sex. If I walked into a coffee shop and saw a younger woman sitting with an older woman and chatting somewhat-intimately my first thoughts would be “mother-daughter,” “aunt-niece,” or “mentor-mentee.” And I’d be totally cool with it.
The same goes for a younger man and an older man…though, to be honest, there’d be a shadow of a doubt in the kosherness of their relationship. But I suppose that plays into the question.
Can an older man have a meaningful, non-sexual (or perhaps even sexual) relationship with a younger man or woman?
Can an older woman have a meaningful, non-sexual/sexual relationship with a younger man or woman?
And heck, I might as well open up the discussion even further, does it make a difference if the inter-generational relationship is between relatives or not?
The want-to-be-mature intellectual in me wants to say, “Of course non-perverted, meaningful inter-generational relationships are possible. Young adults and older adults have a lot to offer each other mentally and spiritually. Don’t be so closed minded!”
But the sassy loud-mouth in me wants to say, “Nuh-uh, something ain’t right here. You all need to go find some friends your own age.”
Scene from the 1997 film rendition of Nabokov's "Lolita."
Journey Through Lent: Conclusion
Apr 14th
The season of Lent has ended and I feel that I have reached my goal of becoming more respectful and loving of all who may have religious views that are different from my own. Taking only a week to look at a particular faith by no means allows me to say that I know what it feels like to call myself a Muslim, a Jew, or any other name, but at least it is one step closer, one more snippet of insight.
Each week, I was overwhelmed by the generosity of those who were open to sharing their intimate thoughts on religion with me. From those whom I explicitly asked to sit down with to those who heard what I was doing and wanted to add their opinion into the mix, it was refreshing to engage in a dialogue that aimed for understanding instead of convincing your conversant that you are right.
I found that most people strive for the same goals in life. We want to make an attempt at being kind towards others, and when we fail at that respect we seek forgiveness. We want to achieve a level of happiness where we are comfortable with who are and who we may become.
The differences between us lie in the details. Are these differences meaningful enough to warrant hatred?
I am still in love with Catholicism and I embrace the many details because it works for me. I find the experience of going to a priest to confess my sins to be very fruitful, but that does not give me any right to think that I am better than someone who believes in seeking forgiveness in other ways.
Going to Church every Sunday does not make one a Christian nor does it necessarily make one someone we should look to as a role model; it is the actions that one takes that matters. We should respect the person who responds to hatred with kindness, the person who makes those who feel worthless valuable, and the person who does the little things each day to make the world a better place.
The xx at Paradise: Mesmerizing
Apr 13th
The music video for “Crystalised”
In a break from my usual style, I’m gonna describe my experience watching The xx perform at the Paradise Lounge last friday. I probably was in a state in which I perceived it differently from other people, but I thought they were pretty amazing live:
Picture the dark intimate stage of the Paradise Lounge. Two dim figures emerge and the sound of a repeated resonant pitch penetrates the audience. Deeper, ominous tones appear and a bright concentrated light from behind illuminates the outlines of the figures, dressed completely in black. In a deeply ethereal performance, the xx mesmerized us with their resonant tunes in a touchingly eerie manner.
The opening song, “Intro,” a concoction of a simple intonations layered on top of rhythmic beats and subdued wordless vocals, flowed into their most popular tune, “Crystalised,” eliciting cheers from the audience. In the background, Jamie Smith directed the dashboard of undulating electric and organic sounding beats. Commanding the right of the stage, the lanky bassist with slick blond hair, Oliver Sim, hypnotized us with his slow sinuous motions. In an alien-like hunch over his instrument, he stirred us with the deep raspy smoothness of his vocals over the catchy progression of notes from the pluck of his over-extended wrist. His wide-eyed eerie gaze stole the show, but the guitarist Romy Madley Croft, subdued Sim’s ominous nature with her almost saccharine but full-bodied quality of her vocals.
The minimalist, emotionless manner of their performance begged the question of whether their alien-like expressions were affected or a subtle confirmation of life imitating art. In the sole break of the performance and a momentary return to human reality, they mentioned they were glad to return to Paradise, the place of their “first eva headliner” a year ago. We could feel the palpable, friendly chemistry between the guitarists when they joked about which side of the audience they owned.
As they performed their relaxed, catchy song, “Basic Space,” the audience caught on and began to sing in unison, in a slow, wave-like chorale atypical of any other concert. Ending with a literal bang, Sim surprised us when he brought out a single cymbal in the center of the stage. With two large drumsticks, he broke the night’s calm and struck the cymbal in an energetically maniacal manner. As his motions of sound electrified the air, a heavy beat echoed in the background, reverberating into the audience. The crescendo of penetrating percussion stunned us, ending a deeply satisfying performance from the xx.
