We’re all just looking for the damn light switch
Apr. 18, 2017With graduation nearing, you might be feeling a bit stressed.
With graduation nearing, you might be feeling a bit stressed.
As the limbo of Summer semester comes round, I’m going to follow my predecessor in removing the opinions editor mask and speaking directly as myself. The opinions and experiences expressed here will be my own, and not those of the Alligator editorial board. I want to take the chance, as the end of the semester approaches and friends graduate, travel abroad, tackle internships and sit on their couches all summer, to reflect on the past semester.
I love science fiction. My favorite works come from the ‘60s and ‘70s, when novels like “Childhood’s End” and “Stranger in a Strange Land” crystallized the genre, pioneered by writers like Isaac Asimov, of utopian speculative fiction. Don’t get me wrong, “Alien” and “Blade Runner” hold a special place in my heart, but there was an optimism in “Star Trek” that seems to have been fading since writers like William Gibson and Philip K. Dick popularized stories of a grim, dystopian future.
Due to the increasing pervasiveness and equal awareness of obesity as a health problem, especially in the U.S., it has become a truism today to inform the public about caring for themselves and their bodies. I’m quite aware of this beneficial trend in fitness, and I’m a firm believer in the idea that “your body’s a temple, and you should worship it.” However, in a quasi-paradoxical fashion, I also believe you should go out into the great unknown and destroy yourself if you must.
We’re not going to wait until the end of this editorial to cut to the chase, so here it is: UF needs to do more than just condemn hate after the fact.
Nearly two years ago, I received a text from the newly appointed Alligator opinions editor while on a Greyhound bus full of potential sorority girls barreling down Museum Road toward Pi Beta Phi. It read, “Hey. Do you want to have a column in the Alligator?” Immediately, I thought to myself, “Hell no.” Yet for some unbeknownst reason, I texted back, “Sure, when do I start?”
On Saturday, North Korea launched a missile. The attempt failed, exploding moments after launch, but nevertheless the missile firing shows that North Korea’s military technology is advancing, whether we like it or not. Even if they do not yet have the technical prowess, they are pouring an incredible amount of resources and funding into this program.
I have seen many of the photographs. I have read the news. I have cringed as I read through tweets about the crisis in Syria, where more than 80 people, including children, died in a chemical gas attack on April 4, and then hated myself for cringing when I should be translating that sorrow and disgust into action. So today, I provide you — by way of researching this myself — ways we can support Syrian refugees.
His name is Jared Kushner, and you probably have never heard of him. If you have, then it is only for being the husband of one of the most influential women in the world at the moment: Ivanka Trump. But what many do not know about Jared Kushner is just how significant a role he currently has in the White House, and as he is a man of very few words, this has been a cause of concern. Since long before Election Day, Kushner could be found lurking in the shadows of President Donald Trump as he made his cantankerous, political-landscape-altering, scorched-earth trek through America. The Trump campaign might have had a revolving door of campaign managers and aides, but it was the reserved Mr. Kushner who, as we are now learning, led Trump to the presidency.
The world swarms around us, and yet we tightly clutch our Study Edge packets and scrounge for seats in Library West, focused on the finish line that we see so clearly. For some of us, this is the final countdown — just a few more days until we must face the real world and all it holds, good and bad. For others, this is just another push to the finish line before we start the next lap. Either way, this is the hardest part of the race. It’s bittersweet, though, as we present to you this semester’s final…
Who reads the editorials in The Alligator? I do. Or, at least, I did. A free campus newspaper has a unique opportunity not available to major outlets. The writers of the Alligator are (or should be) beholden to no one, except their audience. The Alligator is funded in part, I assume, by subsidies from UF or associated student organizations. Yes, there are ads in every paper, but few are from major corporations. So there should be little worry over losing advertisers. Yet, the editorials are often bland, middle-of-the-road noise. If you want life advice, then read Dear Abby. More importantly, if you want to give life advice, then provide reasons why your advice is valid. Editorial pieces should not be so agreeable. In fact, I suggest that op-eds be divisive. The Alligator had an editorial writer about a year ago named Michael Beato who wrote largely on matters of interest to conservative students. I abhorred 99 percent of Beato’s writings, but my roommates and I read his editorial each week to a discuss the reasons for our beliefs. I am not suggesting that the Alligator needs more diverse viewpoints; I am saying that the writers need to take a firm stand on issues more often. Writing should evoke a response other than “Mhm.” Not a shock response, but one that contributes to the moral, philosophical, educational, and, yes, even political discourse that should be taking place on this campus. Write something worth discussing in a classroom.
The U.S. has seen a boom in feminism lately, something that I, a long-time nasty woman, should be elated about. However, and much to my own dismay, I’ve come to realize this new wave of feminism is nothing to be exciting about.
Though we may not openly acknowledge it, society has engrained in us that it’s “cool” to be mean. We all want to believe we are good people; we rationalize our actions to ourselves, saying that we are kind to our friends, our families and those close with us. We share sympathetic videos on social media. We spend time attending Dance Marathon and Relay for Life. We don’t go out of our way to ruin people’s lives. That — the bare minimum, it seems — is enough to justify the fact that we are good people.
Seven-hundredths of a second.
On the second day of Passover, the most practiced Jewish holiday in the U.S., White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer compared the Syrian government’s use of a chemical weapon to attack its own people to the Holocaust, arguing that Adolf Hitler “didn’t even sink to using chemical weapons” on his people.
There’s an ailment afflicting young people today. It’s not a disease or a behavioral epidemic, but an idea. It is an idea that affects our entire approach to intimacy. It stems from our phobia of discomfort, of appearing foolish or being declined. It is the idea that there exists such a thing as a “right moment.” Allow me to elaborate.
The human race is intrinsically a selfish bunch. When we’re born, we are strictly self-serving. We exist only to keep ourselves alive and to advance ourselves to the point where we can do this without help. We communicate our needs by crying, screaming or doing whatever it takes to get our parents’ attention, and once this is complete, we just head on back to whatever we were doing before we decided we needed something.
I ended last week’s column with an image of a man limping through life with a broken leg. I made the comment that this image captures the problem with our cultural dictum: “Believe in yourself.” The meaning behind my comment is twofold. First, people generally suffer from self-doubt, a certain awareness that all is not well within one’s self, or from an inability to feel affirmed, confident and whole. Second, the solution to this problem cannot be believing in one’s self because the problem lies primarily within the self. Thus, the image of a man who thinks he can mend his leg by walking on it.
As the school year rounds off, it can become easy to fall into the slump of “could have beens” and “didn’t do’s.” This, perhaps, hits graduating students the hardest, but no one is immune from the curse. It is the end of things that causes us to look back, after all,
I am the son of a PGA professional and would like to offer a rebuttal to the Monday Matters article regarding the golf industry. The article is unsurprisingly lacking statistical evidence of waning golf interest, probably because there isn’t any. First, the article claims, “Nobody really wants to watch golf.” In fact, the PGA Tour reported a 22-percent increase in viewership in 2016. Second, the article claims that golf has a difficult “learning curve.” The PGA has instituted many new initiatives to make the game easier for beginners, including the Tee It Up program. While we’re at it, let’s talk about this difficult games popularity. The article poses golf as the sport for “out of shape old guys”. Interestingly, the PGA says 2.2 million people tried golf for the first time last year and 73% of them played again and again and again. Now, the money. Yes, golf is a big business with a worth of $70 billion, but it also has an annual charitable giving of $4 billion. And the average price of a round of golf is $36. This article was an attempt at a hot take, one that was so ill-researched, those who don’t golf could even read it as click-bait.