Column: Dan Mullen is the new football coach! Now let’s get over it.
By Skyler Lebron | Nov. 27, 2017The turmoil is no more. The agony of waiting is a thing of the past. It’s finished.
The turmoil is no more. The agony of waiting is a thing of the past. It’s finished.
You fool.
A couple of days ago, a video of Malia Obama blowing smoke rings went viral. The internet flipped out. Everyone either sang her praises or was deeply offended. “Go, Malia! I’m glad you’re having fun in college and doing your own thing! Get it, girl!” Or, “How dare she! What a delinquent. As a daughter of a former president, she should not be behaving in this manner.” There was a third response, which was something along the lines of, “Who cares?” This whole incident brought to mind something I find very important. It is also something frequently underemphasized, particularly in this day and age. This, dear reader, is the art of minding your own business.
Roy Moore. Al Franken. John Conyers. Bill Clinton. Harvey Weinstein. Bill O’Reilly. The list goes on. The past year has brought an onslaught of sexual harassment and assault allegations from Hollywood and Washington, D.C. It’s sad and telling that this is at least the second time this semester I’ve written about this topic, but it’s not going away anytime soon.
In this political climate, it can be tempting to surround yourself with like-minded folks and call it a day — online and offline. On our social media, it would be easy (and, let’s face it, understandable) to unfollow every user who posted a status update or wrote a tweet decrying a politician you admire or denouncing a policy you believe would help people. You could even replace the lost profiles with more accounts of people who agree with and amplify your views. But is this the right thing to do?
The other day, a friend of the Alligator opinions editor asked her why she wants to fight injustice. Being honest, Abby said herself she didn’t know how to answer the question with anything other than the elementary and unimpressive response: “because it’s wrong.” Now to use one of those activist buzzwords, we at the Alligator are going to “unpack” this question.
There needs to be a reckoning.
Ladies and gentleman, we have a mystery on our hands.
Please, save me your sighs.
As I’m sure you're aware, Thursday is Thanksgiving. As I’ve wished friends and classmates a happy holiday, I’ve gotten mixed reactions. Some wish me the same. Some gush about family traditions and Thanksgiving foods. Some talk about seeing their families for the first time in four months. Some talk about partying with high school friends. Some, however, scoff at the well wishes. They say they hate Thanksgiving because it celebrates colonialism and the abuse of Native Americans. They hate it because they can’t stand their families (or their families’ political beliefs). They hate it because they don’t like the food or are the only vegan or vegetarian at the table. Or, they hate it because they find it hard to give thanks in that environment.
“I’m low-key scared he’s going to sexually assault me.”
Are you tired of retorting, “Oh yeah? Well our academics are better,” when a Florida State fan asserts their football team’s superiority? I would be.
Chip Kelly? Scott Frost? Dan Mullen?
In 2004, after serving as a college dean for two years, I asked my director of human resources for input on my performance.
You are woken up by the sound of your parents and grandparents chatting loudly and energetically over coffee at the kitchen table and the smell of pies being prepped for baking. You’re still tired, but you get out of bed anyway so you don’t miss any of the family fun.
When I first read Tom Stoppard’s play, “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” I was in what I like to dub the first great existential crisis of my life. It was my senior year of high school and the only thing that gave me any sense of purpose in my life was focusing on college applications. Getting into college — my top choice, specifically — was the only goal I had. After that, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to study or what I wanted to do. I was beginning to realize the be-all and end-all of my high school life was not the be-all and end-all of life.
The saying “Jack of all trades, master of none” might apply to most areas of life, but I don’t believe art is one of them. Out of all the types of skills to have, artistic competency has to be one of the most malleable because of its inclusion of more than simply technical ability. Making broad generalizations about anything creatively done is something worth straying away from, but I think there is something to be said about what makes truly great art.
The NCAA has a microscopic amount of chill.
I’m prone to losing. Just this week, I walked right into a table in Midtown, which left me with a fist-sized bruise on my hip and a drink spilled all over me. I also accidentally texted a screenshot of a conversation to the person I was having that conversation with. I started uncontrollably crying at a Bon Iver concert and, like all of you, watched the Gators lose.
I don’t think the only problem with Richard Spencer is that he is a white supremacist. The problem with Spencer is that he provides a bogus answer to a legitimate and enigmatic question academia has left unexplored: What does it mean to be white in 21st century America?