On death....

Death is realizing the world has denied you.

Everyday Fairytales / Everyday Magic

Everyday Fairytales / Everyday Magic

I heard the words they said to me - "can't you let it go?"
It changed my life - But I choose how (I choose for better)
I made my choice - Have no regrets (No time for "i'm sorries")
It's good to finally see I'm free and not controlled by them.
They've chosen who they want to be (And I've chosen my path)
But I won't waste time with the ones who just let it pass.

There is no friends in them I see;
But still my ideals ring through my thoughts
And they push me to be a better man
And so I'll be the better man.

I open up (for everyone) because even they need help.
Always trying to be true to myself; my values, my vision.
The past three years (a learning curve) just made me stronger.
Now I made real friends to have - ones who are worth it.
I am finding a voice all my own and even worth hearing,
And choosing a life to lead - one for living and loving.

My life is an everyday fairytale - one I believe in
With twists and turns on the path of life full of everyday magic
Doing what I have to do so I can say doubtlessly
I've been true to myself and I am happy:
With who I am. With what I've done.
With where I've been, How far I've come.

Who needs a happy ending when they have a happy everyday?

I am not a band-aid!

I am not a band-aid.
I am not someone to only use and keep around until you find someone more desirable.
I am not someone to cover your pain until you find friends more able to heal that pain.
I am not someone to just throw away once you're feeling better.
I am not someone to forget about because you can't feel me there.
I am not worthless because out of sight.
I am not so easily thrown away.
I am not use-once-and-destroy.
I am not dime-a-dozen
I am not a band-aid.
I don't want to be treated like one!

Rememory

Through it All

So we left our ponds behind to swim through the ocean
Alone and far from home we moved to our cabin
There we found some brand new friends (new friends worth making)
When we played our "ten fingers" standing on the beach

We took the time to care
We took the time to try

A year later and the story's changed (that's how it goes)
Gone were the days of rainy-days off (with games to be playing)
Some days were games, booze, and movie nights (with laughter to spare)
But others were sad with fists through signage (still in a box)

We took the time to fight
We took the time to cry

Enter the guys and the tension they cause (it was so hard)
One hated everyone, and only loved me (now hates even me)
One loved everyone, and hated just me (and they love him)
They all turned out to be liars (from beginning to end)

We took the time to like
We took the time to love

Yelled at me and broke my heart (now it's worth mending)
Stabbed my back and stole my friends (guess they weren't worth it)
You asked, so I gave time (more that you wasted)
Chose to trust but you lied again (I still forgive you)

And through it all I found my voice
The strength to stand when I'm defeated
A chance to grow and choose my path
And I forgive you.
In fact, I thank you.



Demise of a Fairy-tale

I breathe the words through the steam of my coffee
In the demise of our fairy-tale
Such an intimate thought dismissed in the air
Doubtlessly barely heard over the din of this place
The stereotypic voices (deep thoughts, to be sure)
And the tip-tap-typing of fingers on keys.
A swirl of lost hope
The poetry bound in that book left unread
Was destined to tear the pride from my veins
So I cling to the moments before (all i have left)
But then my hope was carried away
In a ring of vapor never seen again.

Always Away

The sun goes up, the sun goes down.
Sometimes both can be one.
And in the eve of discontent,
the sun defrauds its very shine.
Behind the clouds (the shades of gray)
the borderlines all are lost and blind.
When black and white are all to see,
the sun stays always away.

left and Right

left and Right or right and Right
Give it all up into the air.
For love is all that's left as the world burns.
Put out the fire with tears of sympathy
Burning their homes as we build up our own
Is that the way life's meant to be?
Can it be so that they are just jealous
That's what we say (rote recitation)
Cuz we have it all. We are the world.
We are the best.
We are the best.
How can it be when they hate us and our response is to kill them all?
Don't get me wrong, but what we've come in is societal rape.
Take it all and leave them behind.
Bodies broken, black and blue.
Blood stained on the sand.
because - oh yes...
I'm a little progressive, left and Right.
Here is my ego, here is my open-mind.
When they argue their side, I'll bullshit my way out
All I know is no one's Right.

A Memory
hugging my knees in the corner of my bed
after locking all three doors and killing the lights
(and the pain with the pills)
i left you to save you from me
then you locked me out when hope was born
and all was lost in my descent
i couldn't hear your tears through he door
could you hear me beg through your tears?
but it's not you i can't stand, the damage was his
he was the liar, i just thought you'd see through it
(or at least her) but too little too late.
And he fooled us all (at least me for a while)
But when he took to the stairs and called me a prick
I started to see the problem wasn't me.
It was him and his impossibilities
Because for once I wasn't an ass
And he wasn't all that he said
Cuz I knew he was a ghost in his pale white skin
And his suave facade designed to hide
The weaknesses that lie beneath.

An Epiphany
So much for who I thought I knew
I should have heard the sirens coming
I should've seen it in your face
and known it was a lie.
I guess some things are too much to ask for
and better left unsaid
But I never asked for a thing from you
I just believed the promises you made.
why should i have believed those words?
why didn't I know i'd feel this pain?
and either you forgot those words you swore
or you never meant them in the first place.
and over the static of the phoneline
you said you didn't but now i see you did
and all those words were just another lie.
And when you breathed "i miss you"
that was was your biggest one
cuz you couldn't wait to get me out of your life
and your lipstick laced deceit
and your face a painted lie
are as real as your shady heart
So if i'm strong i'll give it up
but i doubt that can ever be
perhaps you'll even come around
and see the things i hope you'd see
so they can say whatever they want to
cuz i know they know nothing of us
And they know even less about me.
What shocks me is they don't really know you
You can call me a bitch or say I'm full of shit.
No matter, no worries.
You're the one who can't be true.

The Ghost
The view from the overpass is laced with streaks of red and white;
All unaware of the ghost that sits on the edge floating above.
The one that had the hope, and the one who's full of spite.
The ghost without a soul because it couldn't love
And now it feels like now i can't have what I want,
but that's just cuz i'm wanting you
The sun won't shine over this highway tomb for all its pride
What sun that's set on tomorrow can rise again today?
The fire within the soul burnt so bright and strong that it died
It shone itself to ash and will never again fight the dark away

COSF 100 Midterm 1

Introduction to Communication as a Social Force in-class midterm #1

First Essay

In an attempt to understand the media, two major models have arisen, each withpublic interest as an important element. The market model and the public sphere model both try to protect the public interest but conceive and define it in different ways. The market model sees the public interest as what interests the public, therefore believing that simple free marknamics will fully fill the public interest and so want limited involvement by the state, where it only intervenes to protect property rights and the market's functioning. The public sphere model for the media looks at the public interest as what furthers democracy, stimulates discussion, and represents society. Such a view feels the state should intervene to ensure that the media are fulfilling these requirments.

The market model believes that the public will get its interest because corporate media will look to please the public for profits. Since they define public interest as what interests the public, to a certain extent that's true. As Rupert Murdoch and NewsCorp has learned, people enjoy watching car wrecks, animal attacks, cop shows, and reading about gossip and scandal. In this way (and by using the market model's take on public interest) NewsCorp through its Fox network, The News of the world, The sun, and its other holdings, does give the they want (arguably at the expense of the social fabric). In the Texas Las review article (Texas Law Review 60, no. 2 (1982):207-257), the authors took a very market model view. They believed that through the diverse and numerous media channels, people's desires will be fulfilled, and thefore the public interest will be served. That's why they advocated that the state take a hands-off approach to media management, letting the market decide the price of the transmission spectrum, and other avenues, and the content to provide. They believe (in accordance with the market model) that the government should only intervene to ensure a functioning market through protecting property and broadcast rights, ensuring a stable economic system and dollar, and allowing corporations to seek their profits. The market model view of public interest is limited to what interests the public and what is popular.

The public sphere model looks at public interest as democratic freedom (where people are citizens and have "one person - one vote," not "one dollar - one vote"), information, diverse views, innovation, and open for public discussion. Under this model, the media are tools and a means to strengthen society, increase awareness, and further democratic involvement. The BBC seeks to "represent Britains to Britain." In this way, they are furthering awareness and discussion about various real world issues that the average British citizen faces. Television for the BBC goes beyond mere entertainment to breech the ground of real-life issues that must be critically looked at, not avoided. Similarly, the CBC looks to strengthen the social, political, and cultural fabric of Canada. In order to do this, they give representation to a wide array of marginalized groups and look at important political events (like Rememberence Day). By doing this they bond Canada together, and inform them of others who are different from them, and show them why different isn't bad. In this model, the state should ensure the media strengthen society by providing funding and/or ensuring diverse content.

Both the public sphere and the market models claim to serve the public interest, but each define it in different ways. It is up to us to decid which public interest we prefer and push to help make that model more of a reality.

Second Essay

In The Business of Media, Croteau and Hoynes look at the business strategies of media conglomerates and the wayategies affect media content. These effects should concern the public as the public sphere is being limited. The conglomerates ultimate goal is profits, and in order to make the money, they have various strategies which affect both content and the public.

Conglomerates look to sensationalization and fluff. They use sensationalism to capture the audience's attention and use fluff to not offend viewers or advertisers. This severely limits the quality of information the public recieves. In the McHallin article, the example story they look at on AIDs education amounted to nothing (and was intentionally misleading on top of that). Such stories interest the public (and often outrage) but do not amount to anything substantial.

Corporations also let the quest for profits censor their content. Reporters self-cnsor content they know might not go over will with owners or advertisers. Also with the destruction of the church-state wall, censorship comes from within the company. Stories that might offend the tobacco industry (for example) were/are either not aired or end up hurting profits as happened with one example newspaper. Also NewsCorp didn't print a book that represented the Chinese government unfavorably because they were trying to strike a deal as a satellite provider with China.

Another affect of the breakdown of the church0state wall can be seen with the addition of sections of newspapers which come down to advertisements (like for home improvement products, pharmeceuticals, or even travel resorts. Also stories will be pursued that will look good to advertisers. Like unbeknownst to the writers or the public, the Los Angeles Times struck a deal with the Staples Center to promote it. That seriously compromised Journalistic ethics, especially because the reporters were kept in the dark. Also, book reviewers (especially when content is offered online) have a conflict of interest since they get money based upon purchases made by certain booksellers. This biases the reviewers to write good reviews so they and the newspaper will profit.

Through conglomerates diverse holdings (integrated both horizontally and vertically) conflicts of interest arise if news breaks about another arm of the corporate squid. For example, ABC news didn't run a 20/20 episode on problems at Disneyworld because Disney owned ABC. Also GE's NBC covered a story on defective bolts but failed to mention that these bolts were used in GE's Nuclear reactors (until they were criticized for the ommission).

Through conglomerations gobbling up of other companies and their ultimate quest for profits, corperations have interest in many business strategies that translate into affects on media context. Sometimes it's more benign (like the George Lopez Show's trip to Disneyland after Disney bought ABC and the show) or more harmful (like not revealing information about the 1996 Telecommunications Act which would be detrimental to the public), but either way it's democracy and the public that ultimately suffer.

Articulation

My Contrite Articulation and Extension of Gitlin's The Whole World is Watching

Protesters and activists are often looked at in the same form as "the exotic." They are put up to be "the other" in oppositional contrast to "the us." In this role they can solidify the us. Until, as Gitlin explores, there comes an "elevated moderate alternatives" that serve to compromise the supposed monolithic hegemeny to make way for the inocuous claims and aims of the other while rejecting the most radical goals. In this way the us is able to bend towards the other...but not so far as to actually compromize a complete upset of the status quo. Often, like in the exotic's fetishes and "artifacts" (ie. totems, beedwork, rugs, carvings, masks, bowls, pottery, etc.) the other's elements are not only marginalized and reduced, but also commodified. In the case of the exotic, their entire culture is looked at and commodofied, from their tools, their religion, to every element of their culture. With protesters, the extreme others are still exotic, uncivilized, and deviant, thus rationalizing "elevating moderate alternatives" reinforced with the media and by the commodified trendiness of the objects and visage of the other (ie. peace signs, hemp clothes, punk attire, skirts with pants, etc.).

Fearless + Dreamscape

Fearless

How can I explain it any better
than just showered, zipping up your clothes
Getting ready for a day that I will hide from
I can't say no and yet I don't regret
And in the morning glow I can't help but smile
Cuz I have hope that it too can happen to me.


Dreamscape

There's a demon through the mirror,
and I cannot face him down.
There's are ghosts inside my head,
They are screaming at me now
But they're all I have for friends
In my filthy little hole
Cuz no one comes for me
I'm just an lonely soul
And when I close my eyes,
It's the devil that I see
And he takes me and he breaks me
Till i'm begging on my knees.
The ghosts blew out the flames
That used to burn in me
And all their voices echo
That they'll never set me free.

Southbound

It's dark I'm cold and lonely
Walking towards my empty place
I know that you won't be there
But i'll still hope to see your face
I'm standing on the corner,
Wondering what good you are to me.
I'm waiting on the red light
But know green won't set me free.
Cuz i'm walking in a haze
And I am feeling almost blind
Missing you in spite of everything
And I'm losing my own mind.
Behind me I hear footsteps
So I quicken up my pace
But I turn and I see no one,
Just the phantom of my shame.
When I arrive I crawl in bed
So cold without you near
But I know it isn't worth it
Cuz when I need you, you're not there
In the dark of night
I just try to let it go
In my bones I feel I'm nothing,
And I'll be left to die alone.

Faithfully

I held faith in all the wrong things and now i must pay.
So i pay in the tears I shed; the tears that they crave
There's no life left in me and I've lost every hope
This is what hell is. This is the depths of it all.
This is what I deserve, this is the pain that craves death
And my souls burns in flames with no shelter in sight
And I find myself shrinking as the world grows huge.
A wonderland nightmare that won't stay in my dreams
And so I am shrinking, and falling forever down
Not a thing to hold onto
Not even my soul.

Would You...?

Take the air out of my lungs,
And the gun out of my hands.
Hide the world from my vision
And lead me through the dark.
Oh, pump the pills from out my stomach,
and dress the slits running my wrists.
Cradle me like a baby,
Like the lost child that I am.
And that ghost that sings to me,
Please free him from my mind.
For I have nothing left to give him,
And his voice is scaring me.
Please guide me past his doorstep
And don't let him steal my soul.
And the waves crashing on his beach
All sing out to me
Like a chorus of God's angels
Begging me to go.
So save me from that ocean
and from the siren's song.
For my scars are all I'm left with
They still hurt like yesterday.
And yet I still remember
That heaven's a world away.

The War of Life and Death

The dark and the light wage war within myself.
On the one side there is a life forgotten, a battle tide that edges out the soul itself with darkness as the final flag. And on the other side lies a soul bathed in light. But it has no final flag for light must always give way to dark when it finally fades away. And so with life - To live for the day is to put off the inevidable death's embrace. So why does the light push so hard? How can the light fight off and adversary it cannot see or touch and which encircles the light at all sides? Destiny lies with dark (to it must be given way). But light still fights.
How empowering?
Evil and good lie within engaged in the battle for all that might be. But what would the war look like if one could be both light and dark? Both good and evil? Both an angel and a demon? What a new adversary emerge? Would good and evil reign and rage over some other force benign until arms are taken up against? Would that other force find favor in the light? Or could it sway the dark? Or perhaps would its weight drag both dark and light away? Both evil and good beyond the bounds of common thought?
How status-quo?
What if the battle was not of light on dark or day from night. What if the dark let light live as long as it might? For it knows that in the end the dark must come, so why not resign itself to let life shine itself in peace, knowing that then the dark will rest in tranquility following a day of bliss instead of struggle?
How utopian?
And yet there is no utopia. There is no victor no peace inside my soul. Not yet. Not today. Despondency.

And You Know...

Live to Die.

How to stand up when you've fallen so low? There is no hand to help cuz the demons in my dreams are all that's left to keep my company. I hear them say "you're worthless" and i believe those words. "Where are they now? They are no where to be found." How to find a way out of this hole i've been shoved in? - the cruelest world, the cruelest place, and the cruelest voices speak to me. I have nothing left and just a hunger both for food and for hope. This long journey I cannot start is all that's ahead of me. Putting it off I keep my body bent and my eyes shut tight to spare me from the sights. But I still hear their cackles echo in my bones. It cuts me to my core but I have no wings to rise above. I have no clothes to keep me warm. And I have no strength to lift my head. How to survive this journey, babe - I'm so alone and oh so damaged? If I opened my eyes could I even see? If they could look at me now, what would they say? If there was a ladder, could I get myself out? I doubt it even matters because I think i've lost myself entirely. I cannot live, I cannot hope, I cannot wish upon a star. Although I can't feel it I know i have a hunger so deep and a pain so real while I live my life spent dying.


Pale White Pills

The drugs flood my brainways with invalid chemicals. And still i sit here waiting for a hope that never comes. And i'm all alone again, left only to doubts abounding, that pull my heart to hell. In the drugs i hope to have a fostered sense of self. But I do not know who I see when I look into the mirror - a face so unfamiliar that i flinch at being watched. Tomorrow i'll want life, tomorrow i'll be happy and get all i ever wanted. But in my bones i know that tomorrow will never come. And then the thoughts creep up to justify my solitude, inverted salience. In them the flaw's the situation, but in me it is myself. So i deserve what comes to me, but they need happiness. No fundamental error here - well - i guess just the wrong way 'round. The problems not the lack of love, the problem is MY love. The problems not cheating for the cause was truly me. The issue is not new space between, for i SHOULD be shut out. I deserve to be shoved away and down (why won't the chemicals speeding through my veins do their jobs?). So if I never see those eyes again, that would be Justice. And if i never am forgiven - well i ought never be. (but ask me what i need forgiveness for and my tongue can only word "obviously something, the distance says it all"). Sometimes, some how, some way, my fingers turn to fists, and a tiny thought creeps from a pill that says "i am okay." But the other thoughts (much stronger and more fit to live in me) will shove it out in 3-2-1 and i'm back to "it's all me."


Destination: Unknown

Give me all your fortune, baby,
Give me all your fame
Slit my truth wide open for you
And let me fade away.

Just give me my blue fortress,
And give me all your pain,
Let me bleed your comfort, baby
That seeps right through my veins

It's my truth that scares you, honey,
It's my lies that bind
And with all you've lost now to me
Why are you still mine?

I fake it for the world's love,
Dear, It's my heart's disguise
And faking makes me weary,
so just leave to me my lies

Dark + Light

Through the Fires of Hell, Reborn
From tears flow an empty tune that dies in the cold air. I see the trees laughing in the breeze, an echo of the world's chorus. In my misery and loneliness I find myself reborn. The ashes of my grave encircle me like a blossom. I walked through the valley to find my life with nothing of my own. The self I found in the depths of hell will burn within me now. Can you see the Good in me? Can you see the promise? Look into my eyes - my soul, can you find the light? Can you see if there is life left in me after all that I've been through? - Too much loss for one boy to take. Too much betrayal for any man. And too much pain to live.

Let Dark Come to Find the Light
Life's out there, so tell me what you're waiting for? Love can bloom out of the pain. Just love, no matter what. Life's waiting, so take a chance, tonight. Love leads life to great heights. And know there's nothing that cannot be done. There are no secrets that love can't hold. In a perfect world, love would bloom like sunflowers, always looking to the sun, never losing itself to the night. So make this world a more perfect place by trusting that after the darkest night, the sun will shine all the brighter. The only other choice is to live in dark despair - but then the meaning of life is just to die. So let the light into your soul. Let the sunflowers bloom within you. Smile as you reach for the stars (the light in the dimmest nights). Make a wish and let love guide you to acheive greatness. And always - throughout the darkest of dark - fight for the light of love, and it will surely shine on you.

4 Outlets

Why so Fargone? (The Reckoning)
Fragment ideas spill onto the page, filled with half-baked thoughts of love and hate and apathy; friends and enemies and nothingness.
Gentle text of "come back home to denny's" flash into my mind. The day I up and ran away, thinking I would be better off that way. (But all I left was my home in them that was abandoned when I returned).
When I let her up and walk away, her act of rennaissance I should have asked for her to stay, made her know what I had meant - But sometimes they have to discover it on their own.
I carress the words of anger said - not anger, just frustration. A drink to dull the edge of betrayal means nothing when you share its cup and couch. And the truth leads to him walking away. And my sympathy for the other guy still crying on the chair was not enough for them to bare as my tears began to form.
The time I had ran away to spare her from myself (for I was too much too take, too much harm and she didn't deserve me, she deserved so much more) and then was left crying at the doorstep as I realized I hadn't wasted her time and I knew what love could be.
To leave to find a home, when you had it all along.
The little boy I was, running out into the snowy streets, with no shoes or even a shirt. The melodrama of my life, my run, and the tears that killed the snow. No where to go until someone came to rescue me.
Everything I want is no where.
Everything I want is just to forget.
As the words free flow into an emptiness, the literate's escape (the birds' song, the rabbit's hole, a story from the past).
Each one leaves something's lost, just as something's gained.

Never a Tomorrow
Carreening down the highway,
the devil by my side.
And in my head he's echoing
"you can run, but you can't hide."

Take the wheel and drive me home
Kill the truth they shout to you
Take a pill to shut them up,
And try to find what's true.

"You can crash into the ocean, man,
And find yourself at home"
Shame on you, you lied to me
while the devil pinned me down.

The truth lies like a stain on you
As your veins leak out bad deeds
I rock back and forth compulsivesly
As the tears roll off my cheeks

And in the car that's driving me
Down into the sea
I cannot help but watch the stars
Swim away from me.

Losing Myself (One Avoidance at a Time)
It's the hollow truth that breaks the bow.
It's the bitterness that fights the light.
Make it hurt, make it burn, make me fall.
I fell down to save your life.
And in your room I found my heart was gone away.
And in my voice I found a stranger speak through me.
In my soul I felt the sad in you.
And in your eyes I saw the truth behind the lie you live.
Though I knew it all and knew how it would end,
I would have fought to save your life.

The Sign for When to Run
I heard the words they said through half-cocked grins and half-full cups. I heard the whispers and the snickers as he walked into the room. I saw you forget me and stop with your support. I knew you had betrayed me at that taunting joke I overheard you say. I would have run away that moment then had I known you were so low as now and could find the strength to stand. I almost did flee into the dark strange land (damn the consequences) when i knew you lied to get me there that night after the longest and hardest trip i've ever made. Needing a pill to take the first step, (losing my mind was the easiest thing as the scenery swept by) for I was unable to find any strength within. Imagining a hand to hold. You never knew (you never cared). Then forcing myself to find a way to drive. Buffering the panic with careful distant measure and a desperate will to Good. Forcing myself to ask my dad for help (knowing what that could mean). "Repeat three times: 'everything will be alright' and just breathe." Making my eyes stay awake for 20 hours after less than 3 of sleep. Enough caffeine to stop a heart and to feel the overdose. And then to find the light at the end was nothing more than an ephemeral mirage. An illusion just to get me there, to get a gift (you think i'm rich), to show me off (like i'm a prize), to make a scene (like i'm a joke), to fix a broken thing (like i'm a tool). It was then I knew you were just a lie, and didn't give a shit about me (but i forced that bitter thought to the back of my mind). It was then I might have left, I might have ended it. But in you I saw the strength to be the man you want to be. And for his sake I always stayed.

Dos Mas

To Lose a War (By Honesty)

You left me all alone to hold onto what i could. But what was left slipped through my fingers and now lies forsaken in the dirt. I know not what you've done (do you?), or why you've done it so. But know you must trust your heart. You must do what you think is right. - - And yet my fingers ball to fists as I think of all the broken promises you've left. You've forgotten me and all i've done to paint your life anew. You've forgotten the words you whispered to me, and all the tears you shed. The moments I held onto you to sail you through the storm. The moment I knew you needed help and knew you didn't know. You can walk the road alone, but that's no way to live (needing help isn't a weakness, it's a strength to have). And now we must fly away, solo (you've left your friend behind). Why should I still care when you've left me with no one? I know not the reason, I just know that I still do. I'm scared and broken with no one's hand to hold. I've never been so alone - So dead - Or so alive. If you don't care enough to try, then why the hell should I? If you've forgotten what we were, then why should I hold on? Even so you never were a waste of time. My friendship was always true. And I saw in you all I wanted to be; the man I should become. I know it can never be the same. I know you've said words you can never take back. But if I could save the day, I would, and I still pray for you.


False Start Friend

When I think of where you're going and all places that you've been, I know the fears you hide. I know what you're trying to do, who you want to be. You're so afraid to lose, but more afraid to win. Too afraid to be like anyone else you've seen. You sell yourself short and believe you're left ahead. You're stuck in the past and cannot see the future.
When you say I'm not worth the friendship, or even worth a word. I have no choice but to believe those words you say. All I can do is breathe, and maybe that will make it better somehow, some way, some day. I guess I was just a waste of time. Maybe that's what started all the trouble and the fights. Some days were heaven, some days were hell. We just found ourselves sinking alone, together. I guess sometimes everyone has to let the darkness fall all around, the night and chaos come. It's hell that makes us stronger, and I know you can make it through and can find a way to soar. I'll always believed in you.

Out of the Loaded Dreams

Out of the Loaded Dreams

My darkness lies beneath the shell where my despair and sadness bloom. The hole i've been put in has no light to guide my soul. My body shakes in the corner of my life, my fate, my tomb. I know not where the ghost is leading me, but i know i'm falling down. Alone again I hear my demons speak to me in the darkness of my dreams. All the broken promises they made drag my heart under the ground. I hope an angel takes me out of here, but I cannot find her hand. I only know I've lost myself - that is the price to pay. My body is too broken to have the strength to stand. I'm small and scared and falling, burning like a shooting star. In my descent I close my eyes and hope to be reborn. The firestorm - my death and grave, my cradle and rebirth.

Some Stuff I Wrote

Some stuff I wrote:

I Don't Doubt This

No excuses this time, princess,
Cuz a promise means another broken heart.
And all that's left are promises
And it seems they all are breaking
one heartstring at a time (one heartstring at a time)
two more and we'll go bust (two more)
two more but we're still here (two more)
I see the misery (I see the company)
I see the tears (I see the smile)
"Couldn't you give it another shot"
She said, but she never need to ask
"I promise this time...
oh yes, I promise"
Broken hearts and broken glass
Broken homes and broken bones
two more lies and we'll go bust (two more)
two more but we're still here (two more)
No excuses left (no promises kept)
No excuses left (no promises kept)
No excuses left (no promises kept)
No excuses left (no promises kept)


one month headstart (on hating you)

i say i blame you but we both made this mess
my heart is gone and i must confess
that i never believed you in the first place
so take to the streets and drive your ass home
cuz in my head you left an hour ago

i would tell you i hope that you crash and you burn
but your life already is (not half as bad as mine of course)
but you'd never know (cuz i never told you)
but you thought i'd know (but you never told me)
this one-way street won't take us home

never's a promise (and so is goodbye)
so just up and go and stop with your lie
that tomorrow you'll call me (cuz you just never will)
if you were a true friend, you'd know better by now
if you meant what you said then i know it's not goodbye

so go drive too fast and take it too far
and give me a break (cuz your face i can't take)
you mean nothing to me (i guess that's a lie)
i mean nothing to you (that's more to the point)
but the one-way street won't take us anywhere

and tomorrow's sun set at your first "hello"

Sell Out From The Start

buying in or selling out
it's all the same (we're all the same)
cuz who's left to smile
when what's in is the frown
don't compromise pretty
cuz "pretty is power"

but tomorrow has the promise
of sterile suburban sprawl
filled with brand new homes
on the picturesque streets
and an image to keep
(cuz you live in their eyes)

and never say never
(never's forever)
it's a promise to keep (but i know you won't)
you fit right in in that bullshit town
and tomorrow you'll find
i'm not coming home

Excerpt from "Just Let Go"

This is the first part of my short story for LTWR 8A called "Just Let Go"

Feeling overwhelming freedom and the reassuring safety of his arms as he breathes life back into me and whispers in my ear: “you are safe babe, you are safe. Don’t worry Lindsey, You are safe. You worry too much. I’ve got you and we’ll get through all of this. It’s gonna be alright. You are safe.” I turn around and look into his deep brown eyes expecting to find a face familiar - the face that haunts my dreams - but I don’t know him. I don’t know his face. I don’t know his eyes. I believe every word he says to me and can see all of my life in his eyes, but I don’t know him, I just -

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I am okay, I am safe, and I am alive. Open eyes, glimpse the late morning rays fighting the shades and pushing back the darkness.

My darkness.

My heart falls in a breach of emotions and memories because I remember this darkness of mine. I remember that I am me. I am here. That I am sad. And that I miss Kelli; if only I could have started this day off in his arms then it could be a good day. But I’m so alone and sad. I am me. Fucking reality…

Sometimes to Live, You Have to Die

The early morning sun creeps in the through the blinds as Lindsey lies reposed motionless on the couch. Her chest barely rises and falls with each weak and halfhearted breath. Seemingly unprovoked, her eyes shoot open, she gasps for breath and rolls off the couch and onto the floor amid a multitude of empty pill bottles, boxes, and sheets of various sorts. From acetaminophen, to ibuprofen, to sertraline, to alprazolam, to diphenhydramine, the bottles and box surround her like confetti existing as dirty evidence of the greatest mistake she’s ever made, but also her best success. She pulls her breaking body across the carpet, gripping the fibers with her fingers and pulling her struggling body forward.

Her muscles seem to fail her as she collapses to the floor, eyes wide open and tears forming. Her eyes dart around as throw tears she makes out the bottles's forms lying to her left and she fells jagged empty boxes pushing their way into her stomach and legs as if to imprint a reminder of her choice.

From the still of the spinning world comes a voice cutting through the air and into Lindsey: “Sometimes to live you have to die.” The absurdity of such words appearing source less seems to be lost on Lindsey as she grunts out “I did. I did. I just died.” And in a sudden convulsion of her muscles which looks to shock even herself, Lindsey’s hands grasp a trashcan which she pulls towards are and lifts her head over, then she throws up the half-dissolved pills in a sobbing fit of every emotion Lindsey’s ever known. The taste of the bitter pills and vomit taints her mouth and the smell dirties the world around her causing her to keep dry heaving for five minutes.

Her stomach quivers from exhaustion, and Lindsey’s body goes limp and rolls onto the ground, eyes wide open, unblinking, tears flowing out staring straight up at the blurred ceiling. Her body then starts to shake as she hears a strange voice say “Come on, just breathe” then another “how could you be so weak, you were on your way out? You were on the way to peace, to freedom. You’ve only failed yourself. You will never be anything. You will die alone even sadder than now.” Lindsey says aloud “Sometimes to live, you have to die;” then closes her eyes as the world spins on.

On So-Called White Guilt

Recently when I was on vacation to my fathers house in Missouri, my Grandfather commented on a discussion he had had with an man whose ancesters had been slaves. Not only slaves, but slaves of my Grandfather's (and obviously my own) ancestors. My grandfather made a statement to the man which i found to be offensive (but it didn't sound as though the man was offended, indeed he had doubtlessly faced ignorance and racism of both key types all of his life, and had developed a thick skin and a compassionate acceptance of those from another cultural moment).
This recollection of my grandfather made me wonder about myself. Prior to that exchange I was uncertain if my ancestors had themselves owned slaves had supported the instition and were otherwise reactionary, or if perhaps they were abolitionists or otherwise progressive. Clearly I hoped for the latter.
While discovering that (at least some of) my ancesters were involved in supporting the institution of slavery (at least inasmuch as they owned slaves) was disheartening, it was attatched with a feeling of sadness - - not guilt. I cannot feel guilty for the actions of my ancesters, I must understand that they came from a different historical moment. That being said, I fight to mend their transgressions through combatting racism/discrimination/being otherwise progressive.
I believe that the servitude forced on the man's ancestors at the hands of my own was just as wrong as the racism (structural and individual) that the man faces today. While I cannot feel guilty for the sins of my fathers, I can take responsibility and combat present day sins.
As much as I would hope that my ancesters were abolitionists (as some of them might have been), or were against the Japanese internment in World War II, or were sympathetic, fair, and helpful to Native Americans, supportive of the civil rights movement, the women's rights movement, interracial marriage, or in any other way progressive, open-minded, and "Good," so I can myself hope that my children's children's children (if/when they exist) can look back on me, their ancestor, with pride that I chose to fight ignorance (in myself and in others) and progressively pushed for freedom and equality as lofty and worthy goals.
For this reason I am always interested in engaging in discussion and rational evaluation of ignorance and reactionary ideology. I support Gay, Atheist, Muslim, Jewish, Disabled, Deaf, Racial Minorities, Ethnic Minorities, Women's, the cyclically poor, and all other marginalized groups' rights and equal opportunity for all people. I recognize that our society is still essentially racist, genderist, sexist, religionist, western centric, and otherwise ignorant, but hope that I can help to progressively and actively reform our society to form a better world for my decendents, my peers, and myself.

Image Analysis: Time VT Massacre Cover

In regards to the Virginia Tech Massacre I'll just say: May all the victims both still with us and no more, their families and their friends, and everyone with compassion find peace and happiness. Live life in celebration of those who lost that gift.

And now the Image and Nerdy Analysis:

This image is one which I find to be quite powerful. When I first looked at this magazine cover, I had a very immediate and seemingly personal reaction even though neither I nor anyone else I know was directly involved with the Virginia Tech massacre. When I looked at the image I felt a connection, I felt immediately the sense of collective loss from the tragedy and the celebration of the lives lived and the survivors who live on. But to truly analyze the image critically, and to take apart the code which I initially ignored is to look into the true power and meaning behind images.

In looking at the image, while ignoring the text, the viewer is presented with twenty-five smaller blocks, twenty-four of which contain cropped images of various individual’s faces. The denotation of the image is twenty-four essentially anonymous faces; most of which are smiling, and none indicating sadness or grief. Taken exclusively for its denotative meaning, the image (out of context and without the text) would appear to be an overt celebration of happiness, a grid collage of someone’s friends, or even a yearbook (although reading it as such is trying to place it into a context). When removed from the cultural framework, and thus the connoted meaning of the image, the picture seems to only denote happiness in a not-very-striking way. And yet while a person who sees the image isn’t presented with an overtly sad or indicatively mourning picture, they still are overcome with a sense of loss and grief tied in with a celebration of these twenty-four slain people’s lives.

When looking at the picture (still without necessarily even considering the text), the image is read with its connotatively poignant message which strikes to the heart of most people who encounter it. Putting this image within the greater cultural context, a consumer of that picture generally knows and recognizes that it an overt expression of grief and feels the sadness and the profound sense of loss in relation to the Virginia Tech Massacre. The connotation reaches so far beyond the limits of what the image actual denotes (twenty-four anonymous mostly smiling faces), and is what the viewer emotionally responds to.

In this way, the image is read as a very powerful message and is generally seemingly read without a code. When looked at critically, however, one can observe the social environment’s encoding on the image in the mind of the individual. The image message was produced for the audience of the world who understands it and can place the picture into the surrounding social framework.

While most people viewing this image (myself included) wouldn’t be immediately or consciously aware of the disconnect between the denotative and the connotative meaning, the code of the message is bound up in the cultural context. The image denoted and its connoted meaning are very different, but individuals viewing the image apply the cultural context code to make sense of it and read the connoted sadness and grief, the powerful immortalization, and celebration for the victims’ lives, even if they are not directly related to the massacre.

Fighting Ignorance, One Reactionary at a Time.

Balboa Park Earth Day was a wonderful event. I was truly greatful for the experience. While I know our attempts to talk sense to the reactionaries at the park fell on deaf ears, hopefully those around who witnessed the events, arguments, discussion, and admittedly essentially a few shouting matches, were able to objectively weigh and determine their own opinions, and gain insight into either side. I respected everyone I talked to and was lucky to have interacted with them, even the ones who evidently think lowly of me (and my opinions).

And as a point of sharing what I learned: If your faith cannot coexist with science, then my biased and ineffectual judgment is that your faith is weak. If you don't want evolution or other scientific truths to be taught in school because you believe it goes against your theology, then you haven't true faith in God or the Bible. According to their faith, God and the Bible cannot be proved wrong. If rather than recognizing that God made and allowed for Science as a greater ability to discover truths, and recognizing that if your faith is strong then you can bring Faith and Science into harmonious coexistence, you shut your bodily senses, your mind, heart, and soul off from Science or Truth, then you haven't true Faith at all and are therefore shutting your soul off from God. What you have is a grossly distorted and misrepresented dogma which is indeed contrary to God and Biblical teachings.

This can be extend to other ideological principles as well. If you cannot listen to what people with opposing beliefs make their case or defend their position, let alone form your own balanced argument in respond, or at least critically analyze your views and the validity of theirs in your mind, then your beliefs are like not as strong as you might like to think.

I would hope that these ideas aren't excessively incendiary, but I would also hope that they would make you think critically about your own ideas. I know I'm trying to evaluate my own.

Experiment #3

***Note - every "----------" indicates a change in point of view. Confusing? Of course.

The day had been the perfect spring weather in the afternoon, but come evening dark and ominous clouds soared in overhead overshadowing the failing sun. By the time the sun succumbed to the inevitable, the clouds covered the entire sky. The pale moon was shrouded in darkness, and the stars failed to offer any radiance for the shivering earth.
Through the consuming dark a young woman dressed in all black (save for the words ‘Fall Out Boy’ on a broken heart logo) makes her way through the brush behind the apartment buildings closely followed by another black-clad figure. She works her way from building to building, peering around the corner in a meticulous (albeit unsteady) manner followed by her likeness, similarly wavering. She steadies herself with a hand on a rail of the stairway and starts to slowly ascend. On one of the steps she catches her foot and stumbles, breathing a “fuck!” in the otherwise still air. The girl following behind her emits a quick “shhhhhh” which fades off into a giggle. Reaching the top, the two slink their way to the apartment’s front door. The first girl struggles with the handle which is evidently locked. The second girl eyes the first and points behind her with a shaky finger while mouthing “back door.” The girls walk around the corner and up the fire escape stairs bouncing from wall to wall as it echoes loudly in the narrow corridor. A light in the balcony window in the next building flickers on for a just a second, and then the blinds are edged back. With a loud bang the second girl throws open the door into a darkened room and the two rush in.
One girl charges down the indoor stairs to the kitchen, flicking on all the lights, the kitchen sink, oven, stove, and television while the other maneuvers around the top landing flipping each switch, turning on the two bathroom faucets, plugging the bathtub, throwing the towels in, and turning the water on full steam. The two meet back at the top floor where they pound several times on the door labeled “c.” Then they bolt out of the apartment and down to path, running away into the black night.
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I awake with a start as I hear some noises coming from outside my balcony window. I turn up the light but quickly rethink it as my eyes burn and flip them back off. I slide off my bed, and creep to the window where I inch back the blinds and peer across to the next building. I see girls stumbling in the staircase and barging into Danny, Mick, Jesse, and that short guy’s apartment. It looked like two of Danny’s best friends so I figure they’ve been drinking and decided to give Dan Dan our Drinking Man a drunken visit.
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Pretty upset Dan decides just to go to bed. He pops some sleeping pills (feeling kind of guilty) and jumps into bed. His mind’s still racing through the argument in his head. He regretted losing his temper and saying those mean things he refused to recall, but they really shouldn’t have pushed him, controlled him, and treated him like that. They were his friends weren’t they? Oh no, were they still his friends? He tries to think about happier things. He finally got out of the relationship he didn’t want, that’s good. So what if they thought she was perfect for him. It was his life, wasn’t it? He pulls the covers tight as he finally feels his thoughts sink away.
Dan wakes back up as he hears some creaking of the stairs. He figures that it’s just Mick and Jesse coming back from that party they wanted him to check out. It’s too bad he turned it down because of the girls. He starts to drift off again, but it startled by the pounding echoing in the walls coming from the fire escape.
The two girls rush in, and through the door Dan realizes it isn’t the guys. His heart drops as he hears the familiar sound of his two best friends making their way around the apartment. He knows it’s them - - He can feel it. He can hear it in their breath and in their steps.
He waits for them to have their drunken tirade as he hears them pound on the switches and crank up the faucets, all the while wondering with guilt how he’d evoked so much hurt and anger from them. He let’s them pound on his door and can’t decide if he should answer it, ultimately thinking better of it on account of their impulsively violent state. He waits for them to leave and then checks out the damage.
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I can’t believe that he would say those things! I never once tried to control his life. I – both Carrie and I – only wanted to help him out. We only wanted what’s best for him. I mean, when he met us he couldn’t have had a healthy relationship if his life depended on it. Hell, his first girlfriend here he didn’t talk to for two whole weeks! We had to solve the problem for him, he wouldn’t do it himself. Besides, that bitch was just using him!
Carrie and I take 3 more shots and then we reason we need to do something to get this out of our system. We need closure, we need clearance, and we need it now. I throw on my black Fall Out Boy sweater, hood up, with my black pants and shoes. Carrie also wears all black too although I’m too pissed off to really take notice.
Anger aside, I think it’s fucking hilarious what we’re doing. How hardcore are we? Turning on everything! He’ll waste his time turning it off, it’ll piss him off so much! I mean that asshole deserves what he gets. We’re the best friends he’s ever had and he really made me regret ever trying.
Whatever dude, he’ll never be happy without us. He needs us. I think after tonight he’ll realize that.
But we’re leaving him tonight.

Exercise #1

Even the trees shudder as the dark clouds and haze fall over the canyon’s wall. Largely unaware of this I continue climbing, struggling up a pile of dirt and rocks. It’s only when I reach the top that I realize there’s no one in sight. I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, smelling pre-rain on inhale. I look around and down at myself and see my hands and knees are covered with scrapes and cuts, but it doesn’t bother me.
I search the ground for a perfect rock. A unique rock to hold onto as a symbol of my climb, my accomplishment. I find the rock that I want. Picking it up, I dust it off and feel this truly was a treasure worth the trip; Somewhat polished, but with enough roughness to look wild. Beautiful, I think. I shake with a start and drop the rock as a flash of lightning and immediate thunder strikes in the sky above me, the rock my treasure slips out of my hand and lands at my feet. I grab it quickly and shove it in my pocket with the rest of my day’s loot as I hear rain drops begin to pound the trees around me far away at first, then closer, closer. Finally I feel heavy and large drops on my head. The wind picks up and almost knocks me over…Again. The rain starts to pelt my face.
Soon the hill I’m standing on turns to mud and I start to slide. Down the hill, with the rocks and the mud I go. My belt loop gets snagged on a deep root and I slide no further while the jagged rocks swimming in mud scrape down my bare arms. I struggle to free myself, with much difficulty but no success. Finally, the weight of the mud and rocks piled at my back rip the belt loop off and I’m able to continue sliding, using my hands desperately pushing on anything I can to keep upright. Once I get to the bottom, I’m covered in mud and bleeding down my arms. To top that off, I’m shivering uncontrollably and see my breath bellow out of my mouth in the cold gray air, but not very far as the rain and the fog barely let me see the ground around my feet. All around me I hear and feel the pounding rain and howling wind.
It then occurs to me that coming alone without telling anyone was probably a dumb idea.
Luckily I know the way back to camp: down the path some ways, through the trees and brush, across the creek and then a straight shot across the grass.
I start to run down the path, but quickly my foot snags a root and I fly forward, hitting the ground with a jolt and lose my breath. I force myself up and get pelted with hale on my ascent. Small chunks of ice at first, then bigger. Golf ball size at least. As a few big ones hit my head I wince in pain. The rain continues along with the hale. I jump off the path under the safety of the trees, still getting drenched, but free from the hale mostly. Making my way down I finally get to where I can cut my way through the trees and across the creek. Only the creek is swollen, much higher and wider than before. My stepping stones are gone and the water is fast moving. I search along the creek for a good place to cross still under the shield of the trees long enough for the hale to stop. I find a good enough spot, and hold onto some branches as I stretch my right leg to the first stone. Good and steady. Now I try to bring my left leg around. Steady step, careful movement. Disaster.
I slip off the rock and into the water. It’s deep enough carries me. The good news is the mud is washed off so that ordeal has no evidence, but the bad news is any part of me that was dry has now been found out by water. I frantically grab for anything to get myself under control. A rock fails, too slippery – a root breaks off, too weak – air, water, no success. I manage to keep my head above the water, mostly, catching glimpses of the grey shadowy surroundings with my frantic breaths. I catch sight of an overturned tree, laying itself across the creek, bowing to help me out. I force my legs down and into the water, anchoring them on the bottom rocks and forcing my body up. Hands in front I grab for the log. The water is too strong and forces me into the log and a stray twig stabs my breastbone and now I see all the blood in the stream, from my hands, arms, and chest. I push back enough to unstick myself and pull my body to the side of the creek and out of the water. Soaking wet and still fighting for breath, I start to run as the rain turns to sleet. I’m sprinting so fast, although I know not where towards. I’m so disoriented and can’t see very far ahead. Luckily I make it to the camp as the sleet turns to snow, coming down sideways in the wind, burning my face and bare arms on impact. Our tent’s blowing over and my father and brother are trying to take it down. I make it in time to help them when it occurs to my dad that I’m shivering cold and very pale, bloody, and wet. He tries to relight the fire, but it’s far too windy. He takes me to the car, tells me to take off my cold clothes, and he throws all the sleeping bags over me and idles the car for its heater.
I’m tired and weak and cold.
My thoughts escape me.
I drift away.

Race and Challenging Discourses

I found Michael Stebbin's book Sex, Drugs, & DNA pretty interesting, and not a difficult read. Enough subtle humor to string it all along so you hardly know you got it from the Science and Engineering library! Definite liberal bias. Well if I had more time I'd like to explore the topics of the book more in depth, but seeing as class is starting and i haven't looked at the book in a little bit now, I've lost the meaningful passages. Here's a few i was able to rummage through and find again... The book covers science in general, stem cells, cloning, sex, gender, genetically modified stuff, race global warming, bioterrorism and such, the pending flu pandemic, drugs, healthcare, and science education..

"Remember: race is only a controversial issue because of racism. If it weren't for prejudice, race would be about as interesting as the genetics of hair color or any other run of the mill physical trait."

I do agree with this statement. Race (especially tied to ethnicity and as referenced in discourse) is essentially a culturally established category. While there are clear differences between people deriving from different geographic localities, they are more or less as inconsequential as eye color, just given cultural weight especially because of the history surrounding racial "discovery" and imperialism.

"One notion that has cropped up among those interested in ensuring racial equality is that there is no biological or indeed genetic basis for race. This is, of course, preposterous. There are undisputed biological differences between different populations in the world - from disease susceptibility to alcohol tolerance - and some of those difference happens to correspond with race. The real question for some time has been to what extent are there biological differences between different races."

here's the numbers he gives:

about 3 billion nucleotides in the human genome

99.9% of them are the same between any two individuals

so about 3 million differ

"10% of human genetic differences lie between people from different continents"

so that's only 300,000 nucleotides in difference corresponding to race

"the majority of the differences [between individuals] are common to all races and thus existed before the human peanut butter was spread around the world"

As I said, different but no more so (in fact less so) than other differences is the human genome. Indeed I can vary more from another person who looks like me than from a person of the exact opposite racial spectrum (strange thought), just in less visible, or invisible ways.

And on evolution/creationism in schools:

"What they all common is that they invoke God to explain the natural world and that they believe there has been a vast anti-Christian conspiracy amongst non-Christians and scientists to undermine their faith. Either way, the issue boils down to teaching faith in science classes rather than teaching proven science. The same people who want creationism taught as an alternative to evolution would be up in arms if a Muslim community announced that they would teach from the Koran in a science class.

If you ask a creationist if there is anything that could convince them that strict creationism does not provide a rational explanation of the real world, the answer is invariably 'No.' Thus, rational discourse over scientific findings ... falls apart through rigid unscholarly rhetoric based on religious extremism. This has prevented most fundamentalist Christian children from learning that there is nothing in the theory of evolution that really threatens the Christian faith."

It does boil down to a knee-jerk reaction to say "no" to something that seems alien (especially when it's surrounded by the controversy that evolution/creationism is. I can't tell you how many sermons were taught to me, mostly in youth group, about how to combat the evil that was evolution the big bang). And indeed Christianity and evolution can peacefully coexist in an individuals beliefs.

Of course such absolute rejection and denial without true engagement in any rational discussion or discourse isn't monopolized by evolution/creationism. Turn on Fox News if you're a democrat, or watch a Michael Moore documentary if you're a republican (or indeed look at anything which you fundamentally disagree with) and most likely you will find it hard to truly engage the piece on any real level. Instead you will probably criticize and challenge the discourse, and generally further justify your own opinions. Then switch to something that agrees with your opinions. You will likely feel engaged, but most likely it's more mental self-congratulations and reassurance than anything else. The problem with this means of engagement is that no one gets anywhere. They just reinforce their beliefs and clash with those who don't agree. That's why people always say not to talk about religion or politics.

Thank You For Smoking

My review for the movie Thank You For Smoking

Grade: C+
   Overrall, it was decent. Had some good funny moments, some humor was more subtle though.  At times, felt like an absurdly long, not particularly well-done Mad TV sketch.

Recommend if you:
   Like justification for or criticism of moral flexibility
   Like parody of morally flexible jobs (Alcohol, Cigarettes, Firearms, Entertainment)
   Are drunk. With friends. Not focused or expecting too much..

Not for people who:
   Hate "bad" parenting/family values
   Have AD(H)D
   Are with parents / grandparents / young children
   Don't like the word "fuck"

Punk rock + Dadaism

These are some parts from my paper on punk rock and dada (anti) art movements. The paper itself got into much more specific elements, but this is what it sought to prove... more or less.

As cultural webs change across time, various fads in attitudes and art come and go. Culture is in constant motion, being influenced and shaped by individuals, and meanwhile influencing and shaping them. This dialectic between culture and individuals can clearly be seen in how past cultural movements influence and shape newer ones. Even as a subculture defines itself, so must it constantly struggle towards redefinition and resist assimilation. While some subcultures try to define themselves in opposition to any hegemony as a counterculture, they too are inevitably absorbed by the amorphous culture at large. The punk and dada movements were two such entities that sought to revolutionize the pervading mass culture, or at least exist despite it. While these two movements did make waves, ultimately the larger culture would integrate them, even against their best attempts to remain independent.

...

The dada and the punk movements were countercultures, characterized by their positions against the norms. They challenged and critiqued the status quo using performances, parody, periodicals, and montages. Both movements sought to empower the disadvantaged and give a voice to the muted.

...

The punk movement reintroduced the world to a dada-esque affront to the status quo in a slightly different way, burning with a slightly different fire. While the Dadaists consisted mostly of people who actually took part in actively producing art and performance for the movement, many punks limited their contributions to wearing the attire, attending shows, participating in the audience, and reading the fanzines. Also the main punk scene focused on working class youth, which differed from most of the Dadaists who were more bohemian artists.

...

The dada and punk movements of the 20th century looked to define themselves against hegemony, but their struggles rested upon different foundations. Where dada looked to critique and ultimately redefine hegemony, punk pursued a life outside and despite the mainstream. While influenced by dada, punk took itself to new and different places. In spite of their rebellious and revolutionary aspirations, both movements were ultimately devoured by the given cultural norms. These countercultures grew as a critical response to the very mainstream culture that they ultimately rejoined.

Technology

These are the first and last paragraphs from my paper on Langdon Winner's The Whale and the Reactor for Communication and Culture: Concepts of freedom. Just a taste.


    As human beings we live in a world of our own making, filled and bound with tools and meanings.  Technology plays an integrally influential role in the everyday lives of people, allowing individuals to extend their skills and abilities beyond strict biological limitations.  These cultural artifacts not only aid humans, but also help to shape the very nature of social and cultural constructions, and are actually “forms of life” (as Langdon Winner argues in The Whale and the Reactor) full of obligations and structuring.  The typical conception of technology pushes tools outside the limits of critical analysis and constrains it as an expansion of freedom that is generally used for “good.”  Winner, however, looks more critically at these tools and explores the sway that technological systems hold over society in shaping what will come. He argues that careful examination of systems is vital in choosing the type of society we want to build and “the kinds of people we want to become” (Winner, 52).
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    While technological determinism would argue that the problems with technology are existent but unavoidable, Winner advocates that a critical evaluation of technology should be made, especially at the onset of a new innovation.  He sees great promise in the way people can use democratic power and voice to look at and express their opinions about technologies. Through this process people can change the outcome of technology and therefore the future of society.  In this planning ahead, critical analysis, democratic empowerment, and technologic control, Winner sees the ability society has to choose technologies complementary to its way of life.  By such choices and expansions upon itself, the people reclaim agency: They are able to choose who they want to be and the society they want to create.  They are able to steer their Platonic sea vessel.  While technology will always dialectically affect and construct the way people go about their lives if individuals are able to look into the innovations, they will be able to choose and pursue their own destiny.