BYU-Hawaii: The classes are easy, the people are friendly, and the weather is warm and sunny. It's my personal hell.
However, my therapist encouraged me to think more positively, so here's the list of what I do like about my college.
-I live on-campus. This means I can roll out of bed at 7:00 and make it to my 7:30 class with time for a leisurely breakfast in between. "Community college has everything a four-year has"--never fall for this lie!
-Also on-campus, the health center. Never before has my hypochondria felt so enabled. Unlike high school, I'm quite certain these people have received actual medical training.
-Sometimes I legitimately forget whether or not my roommate is in the room. It's the housing arrangement of my dreams.
-College textbooks are great. No longer am I distracted by why a demographically-diverse group of people is so manically excited about chemistry.
-My campus is so diverse! I'm always amazed at the different cultures, ways of life, and perspectives that can be homogenized into oblivion on a religious campus.
-Bulletin boards are everywhere, and with them, the possibility for pranks. It's good to be alive and mildly sociopathic!
-The library may not have a fiction section (seriously, what?), but today they were giving away their old anthropology books. FOR FREE. I got five.
-Film class is pretty neat. Last Friday we watched La Jetee, a French post-modern soft science-fiction psychological/body horror romantic tragicomic mind-bending photo-roman. I defy you to name another film that demands that many adjectives.
-"If you don't learn to keep your room clean, what will you do with your dorm when you go to college?" Hahahahahahahahahahaha.
-I still keep in contact with my friends who are still in high school. I like to stroke my scraggly neckbeard and act sage over Facebook.
-I have to take the bus just about anywhere outside my 300-person town. Taking the bus means standing in one place for several hours, doing nothing interesting, and being polite to rude idiots. This means I can check on my job applications that I have retail experience.
Showing posts with label sarcastic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sarcastic. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Black and Yellow
Wiz Khalifa's "Black and Yellow". I'd like to talk about it.
Todd in the Shadows, a pop music reviewer of whom I'm fond, has already done a detailed review of it, but I have a few items I'd like to address as well.
The chorus is [Yeah, a'ight, you know what it is, black and yellow (x4)] (x2). Well, no, I don't know what it is. It is your job as a writer, Mr. Khalifa, to inform me of what it is. Now, technically, you could say that I'm holding you to higher standards than other performers, but considering you don't feel the need to stick to the rules of rhyme and meter established for poetry or songs, I felt it would be more appropriate to appraise this as prose. You fail to show me in any way what it is in the entirety of the work.
In fact, this refrain contains only nine words: yeah, you, know, what, it, is, black, and, yellow. There's also "a'ight", which is not a word but I suppose I can count it for something. So your chorus is 9.5 words repeated over and over. Okay, perhaps I am being unfair. After all, "I Palindrome I", one my favorite songs by my favorite artists, has a chorus that only uses 13 words. However, that song was actually about the concept of repetition and recursion. And it still used more word power than you.
Unlike many short stories, "Black and Yellow" fails to establish setting, characters, or conflict. While it does use "black and yellow" to tell us that it is set in Pittsburg, this is an entirely nominative setting, as it fails to influence the work, and no imagery is used other than "black and yellow". Unless I am severely misinformed about the appearance of Pittsburg, I do not believe this is very helpful in enabling me, the reader, to form a mental picture.
Thus, I have concluded it is a work of postmodernist genius. Rigidly minimalist in both its limited vocabulary and flat delivery, the short story "Black and Yellow" defies many traditions of how to properly form a song, poem, or story. While I personally do not enjoy it in the least, I assume it is simply above my head.
Todd in the Shadows, a pop music reviewer of whom I'm fond, has already done a detailed review of it, but I have a few items I'd like to address as well.
The chorus is [Yeah, a'ight, you know what it is, black and yellow (x4)] (x2). Well, no, I don't know what it is. It is your job as a writer, Mr. Khalifa, to inform me of what it is. Now, technically, you could say that I'm holding you to higher standards than other performers, but considering you don't feel the need to stick to the rules of rhyme and meter established for poetry or songs, I felt it would be more appropriate to appraise this as prose. You fail to show me in any way what it is in the entirety of the work.
In fact, this refrain contains only nine words: yeah, you, know, what, it, is, black, and, yellow. There's also "a'ight", which is not a word but I suppose I can count it for something. So your chorus is 9.5 words repeated over and over. Okay, perhaps I am being unfair. After all, "I Palindrome I", one my favorite songs by my favorite artists, has a chorus that only uses 13 words. However, that song was actually about the concept of repetition and recursion. And it still used more word power than you.
Unlike many short stories, "Black and Yellow" fails to establish setting, characters, or conflict. While it does use "black and yellow" to tell us that it is set in Pittsburg, this is an entirely nominative setting, as it fails to influence the work, and no imagery is used other than "black and yellow". Unless I am severely misinformed about the appearance of Pittsburg, I do not believe this is very helpful in enabling me, the reader, to form a mental picture.
Thus, I have concluded it is a work of postmodernist genius. Rigidly minimalist in both its limited vocabulary and flat delivery, the short story "Black and Yellow" defies many traditions of how to properly form a song, poem, or story. While I personally do not enjoy it in the least, I assume it is simply above my head.
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