the pretentious nonconformist

Shit happens; I write, you read. K?

[thepnc]

Dear Spartans,

Many of you are half a semester away from graduation; some of you, mere days. Of course, all of you face finals week. For that, I have a very tired, but very pertinent word of advice to offer you: Persevere.

I encourage you not as a scripted representative of the school; not as a tenacious parent; not as a discerning recruiter; but as a fellow Spartan who intends to throw you a little rope if you’re about to give in to academic despair.

Stats are irrelevant at this point. There is no denying that our generation is paying exorbitant sums of money to finance institutions of higher education. The Republican Party often touts a, “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” mentality. I counter with Thurgood Marshall’s take on the GOP’s platitude that, “we got here because somebody - a parent, a teacher, an Ivy League crony or a few nuns – bent down and helped us pick up our boots.”

The reference books that accompany your final paper may stack high. The seemingly endless hours that you spend drowning in paragraphs, stanzas, formulas, matrices, canvasses, clefs, and digital screens of study material may nearly overwhelm. And from personal experience, the job market for many of our majors is bleak.

But allow me ask you, once again, to consider what your degree will stand for. Whether you come from a broken home or a mansion: You will bring your family honor and pride. Whether you are a weekend Rick’s warrior or a library resident: You will forever bear the distinction of being a Michigan State Spartan. Whether you hail from the across the Pacific Ocean or commute in from the Greater Lansing area: The latent potential of your degree can send you to whichever (habitable) continent you please. And above all, we are largely American, but we are all entitled to a swift kick to capitalism's ass for failing us. How unbecoming as we are the very individuals that it will soon depend on.

As a journalism graduate, I can attest to the struggle that starting a career entails. Furthermore, I have altered my focus to public relations to better suit my need for a stable salary in a move that is ubiquitously frowned upon within journalism; one I often find myself conflicted over to this moment.

My story is one of many across the nation, but despite all the uncertainty, I simply endeavor to prove one thing to myself and to everyone that has demonstrated nothing less than unwavering support for my aspirations: I WILL SUCCEED. If you were expecting anything more elaborate or profound, you’re shit out of luck because even failure pales in the face optimism and confidence.

So I put it to you. Study hard, please don't sleep through an exam, and when it's all over, take a deep breath and realize that you're still on your way.

[thepnc]

THE FORESTS ARE ECHOING WITH LAWSUITS

Check out this cut from "Taurus" by Spirit http://youtu.be/xd8AVbwB_6E?t=44s

In the decades following its 1971 release on the Led Zeppelin IV LP, the song “Stairway to Heaven” has steadily climbed its way to rock immortality as a timeless genre classic. As he picks at each chord, Jimmy Page weaves a haunting melodic narrative that blends Shakespearean mystique with shrill electric abandon; one that has now earned Led Zeppelin a highly publicized lawsuit for copyright infringement from the American rock group, Spirit.

As far as mellow acoustic guitar solos are concerned, the solemn progression that opens (and carries) “Stairway to Heaven” can be considered as, if not more iconic than its well-known peers from Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” and Johnny Cash’s cover of Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt.” By comparison, Spirit’s 1968 track “Taurus” might as well be as obscure as a last ditch answer attempt at the final rock music category question during trivia night at the local pub. “Taurus,” however, is starting to gain plenty of new attention...the kind of attention that Led Zeppelin doesn’t want.

The problem is that “Taurus” sounds a lot like “Stairway to Heaven.” Or more accurately, “Stairway to Heaven” sounds a lot like “Taurus” which was released three years prior to the Led Zeppelin megahit. Spirit, while modestly successful in its heydey, is a relative unknown. “Taurus,” while beloved by Spirit fans as a concert staple, has all but faded away in the wake of new generations of music and listeners. In light of the recent lawsuit that Spirit has filed against Led Zeppelin alleging copyright infringement over “Stairway to Heaven,” it should also be noted that the ensembles have shared stages for the same shows in the past.

However, I’m not about to dive into a dialogue about who is lawfully entitled to royalties or who stole intellectual property. Page explicitly denied any plagiarism without bothering to elaborate in an interview with the French publication Liberation last week . Randy California, Spirit’s frontman and “Taurus” writer, has been dead since 1997. Any hope for a more open and sincere dialogue as well as answers is now left to stiff, ruthless litigation. If Spirit proves successful, “Stairway to Heaven” will likely be barred from future Led Zeppelin re-releases (remasters, compositions, etc.) unless Randy California is given writing credit. Writing credit. Let’s be honest...I’m sure there can be worse things that Led Zeppelin has faced before.

As someone who’s dabbled in music journalism and refuses to drive in the summer without blasting something Motley Crue or Van Halen out of my car with the windows down, I can appreciate music in many dimensions. What I don’t appreciate is watching greed, money, and ego erode the foundations of what music is to me: an open medium that soothes, resonates, and inspires.

Perhaps the mysterious lady that paces through “Stairway to Heaven’s” lyrical stanzas has a lesson to teach Led Zeppelin herself. The song nears its conclusion with the following words:

“There walks a lady we all know

Who shines white light and wants to show

How everything still turns to gold...”

Gold? King Midas? Materialistic greed? However the song “should” be interpreted, it’s not the possibility that “Stairway to Heaven” could be a work of plagiarism; it’s Led Zeppelin’s apparent fixation on money and financial gain that disappoints me the most.

Wherever Randy California is jammin’ out right now, I hope that it might come as some solace to him that he has the respect of one more rock fan.

[thepnc]

LONG LIVE GODZIRRA!

Before I saw the Godzilla movie, all I really associated with the King of Monsters was a terrible 1998 Puffy Combs remix of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” and throngs of Japanese people mindlessly fleeing from utter destruction. I just wasn’t really interested. I had always been smitten with the ferocious giant squid from reading 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea during my childhood. But what havoc can a giant squid wreak on a major populace from the confines of the sea? I'll certainly tell you that it's nothing close to the cinematic carnage that unfolds around Godzilla in this memorable reboot that not only pleases the eye, but might even impress today's self-righteous movie critics.

One sticking criticism regarding Godzilla was that it didn’t place enough focus on the big guy. This is understandable as half the movie is progressive exposition. But regarding Godzilla, this is what I knew about him before the movie: Nothing. Considering that the past several Godzilla movies, including the 1998 blockbuster bust, have largely underperformed, I didn’t have much background on the franchise nor did I have high expectations. Well, this quickly changed when the man behind Breaking Bad’s beloved anti-hero, Bryan Cranston, came onscreen.

Cranston enters the world of science yet again as Joe Brody, a nuclear scientist who begins to notice tectonic anomalies at the plant that he works at. There’s plenty of scientific mumbo-jumbo kicked around (and it’s pretty convincing), but the point is that there be monsters that want their claws, legs, alien appendages, paws, whatever, on Japanese radiation. Naturally, everything goes wrong at Brody’s plant, plunging the tone of the movie into profound darkness. Fast forward to present day and Brody has been reduced to a rogue scientist struggling to warn his peers of the truth which has since been covered up: The Gaiju are coming. Godzilla won’t be far behind.

Brody’s struggle throughout the beginning of the movie introduces the audience to some of the backstory behind Godzilla and can almost appear to drag. However, the wait can also be credited with building up enough apprehensive tension to make Godzilla’s first appearance bring on a heavy case of the shivers. I certainly got them. And I knew who Godzilla truly was. However, the stars of the first half of the movie aren’t colossal bringers of destruction, but a cast of humans struggling to make sense of the cataclysm that is coming their way and how to mollify the consequences. This is all meaningless without emotionally compelling characters, but Godzilla didn’t disappoint with performances from Elizabeth Olsen, Bryan Cranston, Ken Watanabe, and Juliette Binoche among others.

Now that all that movie critic crap is out of the way, Godzilla’s eye candy factor is outstanding. The movie’s antagonists, the two MUTO (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organism), have killer legs (not the sexy pantyhose-wearing variety), and/or wings. Godzilla has Atomic Breath and a gi-f__king-gantic set of cojones. The scope of waste that the monsters lay to several major cities is spectacularly illuminated by heart-wrenchingly convincing CGI and a very liberal integration of the U.S. military to bring the boom. The tacky days of cardboard cities getting attacked by a puppet dinosaur are over!

Lots of people die and watching the central characters struggle with this hard fact can easily get you misty (not going to lie, I got pretty moved at points), but Godzilla doubles as a sentimental roller coaster and one hell of a viscerally shocking treat. I find myself unconsciously hearing his blood-curdling roar from time to time, but ultimately, it's worth it.

[thepnc]

Recent college graduate (me) vs. FOXNEWS.com

(Based on Associated Press style, the universal standard for journalistic writing)

[thepnc]

TYPES OF COLLEGE PROFESSORS

Over the course of my college career which has spanned from Boston University to Michigan State, I’ve run into plenty of professors. Some like to lecture vicariously through puppets. Some might just have taken their nursing home bus straight to class. Others know exactly what their students are going through and are as accommodating as possible.

One can only hope for a fair professor, but especially in higher education, the world is unforgiving. Here are some of the educators you can expect to meet in your journey to graduation.

The tyrant

Your grammar, research, and overall essay structure may be flawless according to all conventions of the English language...but as you can see from the 2.0 you’ll get on your paper, the tyrant doesn’t care. Her standing tenure with the history department entitles her to grade as she sees fit. After all, no one is sitting down in the classroom to evaluate her efficacy as an instructor. Get your pens ready, because reading off of a packet of notes that has existed, unchanged, since she started teaching 30 years ago is enough to convince MSU to dole out her 100K+ salary.

The left fielder

While the left fielder may delineate all of the chapters, review packets, and worksheets that will pertain to an upcoming exam for his students’ benefit, the left fielder is also full of shit. Questions from future material, important facts that the left fielder ‘forgot’ to mention in class, and algorithms from the prerequisite class you took 3 years ago are some of the curveballs waiting to crush your dreams of passing this exam.

The busy one

The busy one isn’t just working out of a textbook; she’s still on the frontlines of the industry. While she may be able to tell you firsthand about the status quo of foreign policy after sitting on a panel in Washington D.C., the air travel and length of the conference itself rendered her absent from two class periods. Oh, and she wants you to read pages 45-467 for the exam the she hasn’t made yet, scheduled for two days from now.

The funny one

The funny one hasn’t forgotten that he was an undergrad too. While this doesn’t necessarily mean that the coursework is going to be easy, the funny one can actually fill a huge lecture hall outside of exam days and is as helpful during office hours as he is hilarious during class. Mind you, just like a good comedian, he won’t hesitate to make you a punchline if you’re messing with his lecture flow.

The TA

Like ‘the busy one’, the TA has other goals in mind but has to supervise you stupid undergrad shits to get an advanced degree or some more ink on the resume. In my experience, the TA could be a stuck-up, doctorate-seeking ‘tyrant’ in training, an unintelligible international student who waltzed past MSU’s minimal English-speaking requirement, or a fellow undergrad who also happened to hook up with your roommate last year (yikes).

The not so funny one

This is a two-for one. The not so funny one either tells enough horrible jokes to the point where the class laughs uncomfortably anyway, or, like the ‘tyrant’, has a nonexistent sense of humor that is often accompanied by academic intimidation. Students in the latter’s case ask a question only to find themselves immersed in a world of pain and humiliation for confusing Immanuel Kant with Friedrich Nietzsche.

The zero fucks one

This is based on a real professor who will remain anonymous (unfortunately she isn’t at Michigan State). The zero fucks one isn’t afraid to give everybody an A regardless of the ire she will draw from university administration. She swears like she’s a character out of The Departed and is that much more funny than her ‘the funny one’ peer. She also isn’t afraid to breach almost every principle in the book of education ethics and invites her students over for a party to smoke weed, binge drink, and make jokes (that would get her fired) at the expense of the university.

[thepnc]

TYPES OF HOUSE PARTIES IN EAST LANSING

While nights in East Lansing bars can be a good time, the bars themselves aren't anything to write home about. Most of their bathrooms are scrawled with permanent marker graffiti and atrociously maintained in general.

Some nights, it’s really about going to some random house on Grove Street and waking up in the middle of some bushes on Hagadorn Road the following morning. Here are some of the types of parties you might just have forgotten going to over the course of the night.

1. The open birthday party

80 percent of the people in attendance don’t even know that there’s a birthday, but the celebrant(s) are too hammered to even care; they’ve already killed the fifth of Grey Goose their BFFs bought for them by 9 p.m. And if it’s a 21st, forget the midnight excursion to the bar because the birthday girl/boy will probably be taking a detour to kneeling over a toilet somewhere and losing the glamorous Applebee’s dinner from earlier.

*NOTE If it’s a female celebrant, expect ruthless control over the party’s playlist and a substantially inflated cockblocking index.

2. The co-op party

Pabst Blue Ribbon, Sailor Jerry’s, American Spirit cigarettes, dubstep, and live music abound, the Student Housing Cooperative (+ Montie House) goes hard on weekends. And by hard, I also mean hard drugs (if you’re into that kind of shit). Avoid calling people ‘hipsters’ as it will likely provoke everyone nearby to passive-aggressively talk shit behind your back about your complicity in twisted societal constructs, liberal concepts of injustice they don’t actually know a thing about, and how mainstream you are. Of course, getting in your face about it in person would be too aggressive for them.

3. The frat party

Coming with a group of girls may just get you in the door due to the favorable gender ratio, but remember that the bros want your hoes; if they’re actually smart enough, they might let your ladies skip line straight into their bedrooms while you’re still waiting with everyone else outside. And sorority sisters may be gorgeous, but I don’t really need to connect the dots on what will likely happen if you start putting moves on one of the house bros’ girls and he finds out. Otherwise, there’s usually a keg(s) and beer pong somewhere, an overcrowded dancing (read: grinding) area, and a police cruiser patiently waiting to rally backup to shut the party down.

4. The tailgate

It’s 8 a.m. on Saturday and everyone is still borderline blackout from Friday night’s debauchery; but on these mornings before our vaunted football team takes to the field, we come to SPARTY. The standard tailgate games are there along with bags, ladder ball, and horseshoes; on the classy side, look for freshly-shotgunned airborne beer cans, epic games of flip cup spanning three tables, and even the occasional two-story beer bong. Oh, and beware; you may be blissfully drunk, but so are the bros throwing around an NCAA regulation-size football that has your face written all over it.

5. The theme party

White trash, toga, ugly sweater, or Halloween, the theme party is a pain in the ass because you actually have to spend extra money to hunt down materials for the night’s attire. If you don’t put something together, you’re lame...but no one really cares because half of the the party was equally unmotivated to throw an outfit together.

So you may be missing a few things (iPhone, wallet, all of your clothes), but at least you aren’t spending it in East Lansing’s drunk tank (right?). Sometimes you have to pay the toll, but really, it’s just another weekend at one of the nation’s best party schools.

[thepnc]

A GUIDE TO WEEKNIGHTS IN EAST LANSING (DURING THE SCHOOL YEAR, YOU REBEL YOU)

MONDAY

Nothing is happening. Get your schoolwork out of the way like you told your parents you would.

TUESDAY

Rick’s half-off. This is arguably the best night to go to Uncle Richard’s because there is nothing better to do and everyone else of age (or not) knows it. Girls, it might be winter, but throw on that skimpy-ass skirt and you’ll get everyone from the random lonely 43-year-old lawyer alumnus to the musclebound fraternity asshat to jump on your rump to some boner jams.

Boys, if you like taking advantage of drunk girls, this is the perfect night for you! Buy your lady some discount Long Islands and the array of options for you to make ethically problematic decisions will unravel before your eyes. Will you remember her name tomorrow? Probably not. 

WEDNESDAY

You have two decisions: Harper's or Dublin Square; both are half off.

Harpers: It may not mean much that the prices of Harper’s mediocre (but cheap) in-house brews and unremarkable food menu items are slashed in half, but the place is a great alternative to shivering your ass off in Dublin Square’s Wednesday night line. Unless Donnie D is spinning tables, you’ll have decent music to kick it to. If you prefer taking it easy, there are plenty of large TV screens airing Sportscenter to zone out in front of (because who wants to socialize?) as well as open space in the back area with complimentary pool tables.

Dublin Square: Dublin Square is overpriced, but tonight, it’s half-off. It may be a fancy-schmancy restaurant by day, but come night time, it turns into one of the best bar/club experiences that East Lansing has to offer. Everyone else knows this of course, and at 10:20 p.m., you’ll already find yourself walking up to a 30 minute line (that wasn’t there 15 minutes ago).

Despite the wait, Dublin is like getting into two venues; the front area of the bar has plenty of open space for a more relaxed atmosphere to contrast the pulsating frenzy that is the back room. Dublin mixes between DJs and live bands on its two dancefloors for a pretty lively experience that’s fueled by solid bartending.

THURSDAY

Burgerama at The Riv (Gets going around 3 p.m.). Unless it’s a home football game or St. Patrick’s Day, there is no other place to get publicly hammered in a socially acceptable manner before 5 p.m. during the week outside of Burgerama. Considering Rama’s notorious line (4 p.m. is a good time to avoid waiting) and White Castle-caliber hamburgers/fries, its standard $3.50 Coors Light pitchers may not sound worthwhile; but after a long school week, why not? Featuring Quarters, Flipcup, an incomplete set of giant Jenga, and a bunch of uncoordinated Greek life on the dance floor, Rama is a great prelude to the rest of the night.

OR: Burger Bash at PT O’Malley’s. While it isn’t as well-known as Burgerama, PT’s is a solid alternative that shares similar pitcher and food deals. While it lacks the drinking game potential of its Riv counterpart, there are plenty of familiar faces to run into as well as great dance floor vibes to last until closing time.

WHAT’S NEXT?

#STR (Straight to Rick’s). The Rick’s experience doesn’t change aside from FREE pizza until 10 p.m. Many Ramaheads will go ‘straight to Ricks’ from the Riv to close out their night. Whether it’s sloppier than Tuesday night’s debacle is completely up to you; just don’t let your bare skin touch the floor lest you catch an STD.

Crunchy’s karaoke (Starts at 9 p.m.). You may be tone deaf and drunk from Rama, but nobody cares at Crunchy’s. Its signature karaoke nights run from Thursday to Saturday. Make sure to get your requests in early! If you’re lucky, you’ll get to hear an old dude belt out Disturbed’s ‘Let the Bodies Hit the Floor’; if not, a group of brahs will unsuccessfully try to wow all the girls in the room with some ‘90s boy band hit they don’t even know the words to. At the very least, you have a menu replete with outstanding microbrews.

FRIDAY - SATURDAY

Weekend. Your call.

SUNDAY

Don’t have to worry/don’t care about classes on Monday? Crunchy’s has your Sunday on lock with half-off most things including microbrew mugs. There isn’t any karaoke, but there’s plenty of boozing to be done to top off the week with your friends.

[thepnc]

Visit Original Link

My boy from ACT class is bringing the Brown Sound. See why he's a hit in India and check this track.

[thepnc]

TYPES OF PEOPLE YOU MEET IN CLASS

The normal student:

Comprising the overwhelming majority of the class, normal students take notes, drink whatever caffeinated beverage they need to avoid zoning out, and may even ask the occasional question.

The leech:

The leech will approach seemingly diligent classmates for last week’s notes claiming that she was stranded in Ohio or deathly ill. In reality, she got too high at her friend’s apartment in Chandler Crossings and became way too lazy to take the 26 bus back to campus. 

The smartass:

The smartass doesn’t want to hear your professor lecture. He prefers asking unrelated pretentious questions that he’ll answer before the professor can even weigh in. A favorite tactic of his is to create a new discussion just as class is about to be dismissed to force classmates to bask in his supposed academic superiority.

The prodigy:

Either unchallenged and uninterested in lecture or sufficiently versed in course material from previous classes, the prodigy never attends, but easily pulls off 4 points. The leech is inevitably drawn to him like a drunk girl to a party’s iPod, but the prodigy doesn’t even know what chapters are being covered, nor does he care.

The college athlete:

Flanked by obsessive groupies who actively joined the course for more time to fawn over him, the college athlete gives zero fucks about everyone else. His superiority complex apparently entitles him to constant distracting chatter in the middle of class about his exploits on the field or how many girls he ‘slayed’ during previous nights. Suddenly, he’s on the road to mediocrity because it’s actually hard to make the pros.

The Questionmaster:

Can’t say that I’ve never fit into this category, but the Questionmaster comes in many forms. She’ll lean toward you and ask you something about lecture in hushed tones. Either she has no idea what is going on and sadly thought that World War II would be a fun elective, or she’s trying to get your attention and make a potential group/study/fuck mate. She may be annoying or she may be a welcome distraction from the professor’s monotonous drivel, but at the end of the day, how the hell should you know everything?!

The diva:

Make-up, a polo shirt, or a meticulously crafted hairdo? Sweatpants are a no-no at the bars, but this is the classroom. Everyone is free to do as they please, but unless you have a presentation or are high-tailing it to Rama after class, who are you trying to impress?

The Clutchmaster:

The Clutchmaster is the person who saves everyone’s asses and makes a huge study guide for everyone to look at. Whether she does it by herself or requests that others contribute their own study guides for comparison, she just wants a grade and doesn’t mind helping others in the process.

The friend(s):

A year after you’ve passed the course, your old classmate(s) can look back on the antics that happened during class, propose a toast to your crazy professor, and have a laugh at the bar.