Category: Uncategorized

Sick of running to the store for spare parts during DIY crafts hour? Sad because your favorite shirt has been sitting in the closet for months without a complete set of matching buttons? Wish you could mount an exact replica of Mozart’s bust on your mantle, but lack the time or the technical ability to do him justice?

 

Well you can, with a simple SolidWorks CAD file and a 3D printer – which has actually been a thing for a while now. But thanks to recent price cuts and media attention, you can do it FROM YOUR OWN HOME with YOUR VERY OWN PRINTER, for about $400 and a computer modeling class or two. The revolution is coming, and from the looks of it, nothing will ever be the same.

 

The possibilities of this newly accessible technology are said to reach every aspect of our interaction with consumables, from the production of fully functional firearms to electronic prosthetic ones. We’re talking recyclable cars with interchangeable parts you can fabricate and install without the folks at the auto shop. We’re talking fully customizable accessories and jewelry, minus the overpriced market retail. We’re talking a full-scale replica of Michelangelo’s David in my backyard.

 

Sounds great, right? Everything will be so much easier and cheaper, and independently operated. We won’t have to count on Wal-Mart for discount appliances and utensils. Say goodbye to the days of making multiple trips to Home Depot while remodeling the kitchen. No more lines and entry fees at the museum for our daily dose of culture; every sculptural masterpiece ever made will be right there at our fingertips. We’ll never have to leave the house again!

 

But wait… I feel a drawback coming on.

 

Like the loss of hundreds of thousands of retail and assembly jobs, or even less human contact than we already experience with social media and online shopping, or the lack of sufficient regulation, leading to even more stuff being made out of even more questionable materials. Because the thing we need most is more stuff.

 

Maybe this isn’t all good – just like, oh I don’t know, every other revolutionary technological discovery we’ve ever come up with? I suppose it’s a given that someone(s), somewhere(s) will abuse this exciting development to the extent of their malevolent imaginations. On one hand, it would open up all kinds of creative opportunity, increase the amount of freedom and personal connection we have with our objects, and give us a much-needed excuse to begin the departure from commercial industrialization. But for every positive aspect, there seems to be at least one less-than-positive catch-22. At least we can safely say the day is still a ways off that every home will have its own 3D printer, and we can hope to figure out how to prevent the most disastrous of possibilities before they happen – because we’ve been so good at the whole “foresight” thing in the past. Regardless of the potential good and evil that could come from this soon-to-be revolution, one quote keeps ringing in my ears: “With great power comes great responsibility.” I wonder if we’ll be able to make Uncle Ben proud, when the time comes to put our newly developed “superpowers” to use.

What would any of us do if we didn’t have a teen-book-turned-movie-franchise to drool over to kick off the start of the holiday season? Cry? Whine? It’s a good thing we’ll probably never know. The second installment of The Hunger Games franchise, Catching Fire, hits theaters this Friday, and even though there’s plenty of hype surrounding the sequel, I can’t help but wonder, are we really hungry for the newest addition to The Hunger Games films, or is it the idea of being a fan of the popular thing in media that we’re really excited about?

Now I’ve read the books, that’s when my true lust affair began with Suzanne Collins’ series, and when I heard that a movie for the first novel was coming out…I simply went crazy. Granted, it was around high school when this occurred, yet I still noticed that there is just something more special about seeing the action and romance play out on the big screen with familiar faces, opposed to in my mind through a book. Now it’s the second time around, and I hate to say it, but I’m having mixed feelings. Yes, I know what is going to happen in upcoming films, and yes I still will pay, and gasp, and cry to see it all play out on the big screen, but why must this be a recurring theme with popular book-movie franchises with me? What makes this prolonged viewing so popular for people when everyone has had the opportunity to take in what will happen?

I’m no expert when it comes to analyzing the statistical feedback of certain popular films and books in pop culture, but I would bet money that this unquestionable hype has something to do with the feeling of excitement that everyone gets for a single outlet. We go online or watch television and see these crowds of people producing tears toward these actors and actresses, and then we find out that these fans have read all of the books and have seen the first film over 100 times. Is this passion really true, and what does it say about the appreciation of the true story created, opposed to the hype that comes along with being a fan of a popular film and book?

I know I’m asking a lot questions, but I would really love to know what the readers think of this wishy-washy interaction that comes from these franchises. Are we truly hungry, or are we over-stuffing our already full stomachs?

 

For two hours yesterday I witnessed the power of youth expression. At an Open M.I.C. event at Ben Carson High School of Science and Medicine, students, teachers, faculty, community members and several UofM students shared a space of art, expression, music, ideas and creativity. The group transformed the school’s entrance hall into a dance floor, a cheering competition and most importantly, a stage. The only requirements to make this transformation were a microphone and an audience; the artwork that immediately started emanating throughout the room did the rest.

Had this been a different Friday, the final bell would have rang and the students would have gathered their things to leave school. They would have left in cars or in buses or on foot, and some would have waited outside until their rides came.

Instead, they piled into their forum space, which looked and felt and sounded different than the space through which they entered the school that morning, and spent fifteen minutes cheering and chanting and screaming for their school and their fellow students. Around 75 people stayed to dance to the Cupid Shuffle, including the principal and several teachers. They wore beads and bandanas and got to dance to music that otherwise is not allowed in the school.

Then, for an hour, students performed incredible, moving, talented art in front of their peers. Students rapped, read poetry, sang and danced. Multiple students came up to the microphone more than once to share two or three different kinds of art. Three students spoke about ending bullying. Two performed poetry about violence in their neighborhoods. One girl’s poem about the death of her father caused her teacher to cry. One boy painted his face completely white, and performed a five-minute dance routine as a mime, as a call to end youth suicide. The guest performer, a Detroit-area rapper and former member of the group Binary Star, said that he’s never seen an open mic like this, and that he wished he had this program growing up. A group of three freshman, triplet sisters, sang two songs together about family. One boy mentioned in a poem that he thinks people should start showing more respect for Detroit. We finished in a group huddle by chanting “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work.” Students took it upon themselves to start beat boxing and dancing along with the chant in the middle of the huddle.

I was struck, during the mimed dance and the poetry and the singing and the huddle, that there was nothing but raw, untested talent in that room, in these students. The only thing they needed, the only restraint any one of them had in pursuing a medium for arts was the opportunity– the space itself. There are no arts classes in this high school; the students received no training or instruction or help or mentoring in their artwork. If anyone in that room was moved or inspired or proud or impressed, it was because of the students– the ninth, tenth and eleventh grade teenagers– who used alternated using a microphone as a means to discuss relevant issues, share skills, make a call to action or think spontaneously.

If this were a math equation, it would look like this:  microphone + speakers + students = creative expression

Although the teachers and the UofM students and the community members were there to encourage and share and provide the equipment, the students deserve the credit. They proved, in no uncertain fashion, that an outlet– a medium in which to express oneself– can be an important vehicle for school change. In the course of those two hours, I saw an emerging rapper/singer/songwriter with no shortage of confidence and enthusiasm. I saw a boy so dedicated to his cause that he spent twenty minutes getting in costume to perform a dance routine even without his two other group members. I saw a girl use poetry in order to express something that can’t easily be expressed without prose.

I saw students create a space of their own; all they needed was a microphone.

 

I was a baby and my mom was bouncing me on her knee to Billy Joel’s “The River of Dreams.” This is my first memory. Now, it may mean that I was conditioned to love the musician, but I don’t care. I just do. I love his voice and piano skills and brooding album cover gazes. After my first heartbreak, I listened to “And So It Goes” to complement the pain, and then, “Summer, Highland Falls” to get over it. As I was leaving home to enter my first year of college, I blasted “Movin’ Out” sporadically throughout the three-hour car ride. I have “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” on repeat whenever I cook spaghetti.  So many beautiful chords, so much lyric to life applicability. Needless to say, a motto of mine has always been: if you insult Billy Joel, I insult you . . . until a situation I found myself in this Tuesday.

Once a week, my French service group and I visit Freedom House in Detroit, which is a shelter for survivors of persecution who are seeking asylum in the United States and Canada. Many of the residents are from Francophone countries in Africa, so we help them improve their English. This is something I really enjoy doing. All of the people with whom I work are some of the kindest I’ve ever met in my life. They are so eager to learn that it is inspiring. One of the residents, though, I have always found to be a bit challenging to talk to. He was a pastor in Cameroon and if you even mention the words “Judaism” or “Islam,” he will immediately scoff and begin explaining why Christianity is better.

As part of my lesson this week, I had my group fill in the missing lyrics to “Piano Man” on a worksheet I created. He began giving me a sermon about how anti-God this song is. Essentially, he was saying that the characters shouldn’t be going to a bar to forget their problems, they should be going to church to have Jesus forgive their sins and aid in the soul-reparation process.

I couldn’t believe it and didn’t know how to respond. Of course, part of me instinctively wanted to resort to one of my go-to lines whenever I meet someone who doesn’t share my terrific taste in music: “You don’t like Billy Joel? Well, your sweater is ugly.” But, with him, I found that I could not physically force any insult or even subtle, passive aggressive statement from my mouth. When my volunteer group went to an orientation, we were told not to ask what the residents were there for, but the leader of the session made it very clear that they were all fleeing from some serious hell.

In the liberal paradise of Ann Arbor, I find that is easy to look down on people who are overtly religious. While this is certainly justified in cases where a group uses religion to oppress others, it is not when you are judging someone who uses it as a source of personal hope. This man at Freedom House isn’t privileged. He is trying to find security in a foreign country from the persecution he faces at home. Yes, his apparent dislike of other religions isn’t right, but me arguing with him about the legitimacy of his faith when it plays such an important role in his life would be mistaken as well. And you know what they say about two wrongs.

He finds comfort in Christianity. Good for him. I find comfort in spaghetti and Billy Joel music. Good for me. Whatever works for you, just do it. Become the practitioner of any religion you want as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else, because the world is often a harsh, cold, terrifying, and unfair place in which to live. Help yourself find some sense of peace, “just the way you are.”

Great news everyone, after a significant dry period with no new releases, witty, snarky, and very British Lily Allen is back with a new single. Her gritty and often scathing lyrics put to catchy pop tunes have always been my needed break from the trash circulating on top 10 radio. I don’t need to hear another love song, party song, or song about starting from nothing – that’s all been done. Finally we have been blessed with something topical. In “Hard Out Here” Lily Allen satirizes the absurd and highly sexualized music videos of artists like Robin Thicke and Miley Cyrus, even the title of the song puns on Three 6 Mafia’s “Hard Out Here for a Pimp.” Every lyric oozes with either sharp sarcasm or harsh realism while her video is the compilation of the elements found in the vast majority of music videos out today: half naked girls, a fancy car, champagne flying, and booty shaking. The sad part is, a lot of people truly don’t get it and think she’s just another money seeking sell out. Well, I beg to differ. Lily Allen is a breath of fresh air and her song is a needed wake up call to mass media. The frightening decline in strong female role models in pop culture and the constant glorification of the male conquest makes me question when things are going to change. Every single day the media teaches us how we’re supposed to act. It teaches us to judge each other based on unrealistic expectations and to hate ourselves as we are. Some call Lily Allen a bitch, some call her just like everyone else, but I call her spot on. So far she’s the only one I’ve seen put her dissatisfaction with the pop culture into such blunt terms. If the video makes you uncomfortable, it’s doing its job because what you’re looking at is all of the same elements that we’ve seen a thousand times before.

This whole project reminds me of the artist Manet. Classical and neoclassical painters had been painting reclining female nudes for centuries and these types of paintings went on to win contests and be purchased by some of the most affluent aristocrats in Paris (often including royalty). But when Manet came out with his Olympia in 1863, everyone was appalled. Unlike the classical nudes, which often came with a mythological background story and portrayed a perfected female form, Olympia was just a little too close to the reality of Paris’ erotic subculture of prostitution and brothels.

In the same way that Manet takes an unquestioned form of art and with a touch of realism makes it into a statement about society, Lily Allen uses the obscenities of pop culture to call attention to the absurdity of the way in which we let the media run rampant. I definitely encourage everyone to watch the new video and I sincerely hope that the combination of the lyrics and the highly sexualized images can at least get you thinking about some of these prominent issues of racial and sexual exploitation in the media.

Lily Allen Hard Out Here Preach.

For those less tuned into the pop scene check out Miley Cyrus’ “We Can’t Stop” and Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” (the balloon scene is in direct response to this) to get a feel for the material she is satirizing.