Save the clock tower!
Spokane has always been a city with a small but passionate independent music sector, which has been able to thrive due to the activism on the part of students and local establishments friendly to the arts. Many Whitworthians have fond memories of nights spent at the Empyrean, a downtown coffeehouse which serves up more culture than you’ll find at any dozen regular establishments.
Unfortunately, a recently passed state law (RCW 19.27.500) requiring automatic sprinklers in all “nightclubs” (any place with a dance floor larger than 350 square feet) has the potential to force the Empyrean to shut down.
The Empyrean, founded two years ago by sisters Chrisy and Michelle Riddle as a personal commitment to community service, has been one of Spokane’s greatest friends to independent artists, poets, and bored students.
Installing a new sprinkler system would cost more than $20,000, which is money the owners do not have.
“It will basically shut us down,” Co-Owner of the Empyrean Chrisy Riddle said.
[...]
The sisters don’t make any money here, but they rely on their day jobs for income. They say this is their community service.
“I always had this dream about owning a coffee shop that would be also a center for the arts,” Riddle said.
She may have to wake up from the dream this winter, when a new law will require any business with a performing or dancing area that has an area 350 square feet or more, to have automatic sprinklers installed.
“Unless some miracle happens, or the law changes, or somehow we find the money we need, our plan is that we may have to close on November 30,” Riddle said.
[News coverage: http://www.kxly.com/Global/story.asp?S=10667473]
The Empyrean’s closure would truly be a great loss to the community. Unfortunately, it sounds as though the amount of money in question is essentially insurmountable without what Riddle calls a “miracle.
So here’s a thought: Whitworth’s students have the capacity to make that miracle happen. $20,000 across, say, 2,000 students starts to look pretty affordable pretty fast. I’m not intimately familiar with ASWU bylaws and financial regulations (especially as an ex-student), but it seems to me that a few motivated campaigners could get a benefit concert going on-campus. With sufficient impassioned advertising, a $10-30 ticket price over the course of one or two concerts could make a serious dent in solving the Empyrean’s problem.
What sorts of creative solutions do you folks have?
Dear G-Unit
Introducing Whitworth’s only advice column, written by a Whitworth student, for other Whitworth students! For your edification, amusement, & pleasure: it’s Dear G-Unit!
Dear G-Unit: I’m writing you today because I feel my parents are starting to like my roomate better than me. The first thing they always ask when they call is “And how is *roommate name witheld to protect the innocent* doing?”. They give him care packages, and they lavish him with compliments when they see him. What can I do to reassert… ahem… “parental focus” back on to moi?
Belittled in BJ
Hi BB! Wow, how insensitive. I suggest getting new parents….No, wait, that’s not cost-effective. Never mind. Um. Let’s see.
I assume you have already tried standard techniques like whining on the phone. It’s time to get drastic. Stage a crisis.
I’ll go ahead & assume you’re a freshman, because, after all, Baldwin-Jenkins is a freshman-only dorm. It is a well known fact (at least to us upperclassmen) that most freshman are more concerned with friends then they are with grades. Plan carefully. Begin mentioning the names of friends that you are hanging out with (make up names if you have no friends or your friends hate you and refuse to hang out with you). Begin mentioning these names at an exponentially increasing rate. Eventually, if they are the kind of parents I think they are (by which I mean, parents who like to see some evidence that you are putting all that money they are forking out for tuition to practical use), they will begin to ask about homework, classes, and grades. Downplay the grades, at first. Mention classes, but when they ask how said classes are going, mumble and change the subject. Mention tests but then don’t mention your final grade. Et cetera. Eventually they will catch on, being the savvy adults they are, and demand proof. Proof of grades. Proof of success. Proof that you are not on academic probation. At this point, break down. Begin to sob. Tell them about how much time you have been spending with your friends, instead of poring over your homework. Tell them the love of your friends is only a poor, shabby substitute for their love. And beg them to fly up/down/over and visit you next weekend. And they, sobbing by now as well, will proceed to do exactly as you ask.
I know, I know, I’m a genius. You don’t have to tell me.
Dear G-Unit: I just starting dating this AMAZING girl from Warren. I think she may be the one. We agree on everything; from how it is TOTALLY wrong to call people gay as an insult, to that apples are the best fruit! My question is: how do I tell when we’re annoying people? We really love each other and like holding hands and kissing and being all ridiculous, but even so, I don’t want to be THAT couple, who totally alienates everyone they meet just because they are just so SO.
Warren Peace
I’ll try to make this quick and painless for both of us, Tolstoy: I’m afraid you already are that couple. The ones making goo-goo eyes at each other across their Saga tables. The ones constantly referencing stupid inside jokes that nobody else gets, even if we cared to try and figure them out. The ones walking each other home in the Loop, shrieking loudly at 3 AM. The ones breaking the ‘quiet’ rule in the back shelves of the libraries.I have three words for you and your girlfriend: GET. A. LIFE. I know, I know, you are SOOOOOOOO IN LUV, and you NEVER want to be apart and you ALWAYS want to be together and you are TOTALLY ring-by-spring-ing, but my point stands. The relationship will die (I know, I know, HEAVEN FORBID OMG) without space. You need space, especially if you are seriously considering getting married and aren’t just flinging that around like so many Whitworth couples do. By space, I mean time apart, and having things you enjoy doing WITHOUT the other attached to your hip.
And, are you annoying your friends (really the only ‘people’ who matter)? I don’t know. I am not your friends. Perhaps you should, you know, ask them.
Dear G-Unit: Recently this really awesome band came to visit Whitworth. They played the HUB multipurpose room. Me and a couple friends started dancing. We just couldn’t help it. The music was so good! It was really awkward though, because it’s like the band on stage, and then that little square of light, and then everything else is dark. And there were, seriously, like four of us dancing, and everyone else just outside in the dark, standing still, maybe swaying a little, all spooky like. How lame! How can I get people to join in the fun next time?
I’ll March to the Beat of Any Drummer with a Good Bass Line
Well, I.M.B.A.D.G.B.L., all I can tell ya is to lead by example. Whitworthians are a little, how do you say, challenged in the R&B department. Trust me, get em a little excited, or, just, you know, turn ALL the lights off (Warren Rave, I’m talking to you), and they go absolutely nuts. Try not to stare at them, though. I know, I know, that dance move was out of style when your granddad was a kid, but progress is progress. You have to do the Running Man before you can waltz, as they say.
If you’d like some words of wisdom from the most straight up G advice columnist this side of Seattle, shoot an email at dearg-unit@live.com, and you could see yourself in print! Er, type! Er…Whitworth Forum post! Yeah, that one.
GO. VOTE. NOW [PT. TWO].
Ha ha ha…..really though. Vote. The sooner the better.
Same deal as last time, people. I logged into Facebook and typed each candidate’s name into Facebook search. Their first name I made a link to either the picture they’re using to campaign with, or their profile pic. Their last name is a link to whatever picture on their Profile Pictures Page amused or intrigued me most. And after that I quoted an intriguing, amusing, or just plain WHAT?! quote from their “Favorite Quotations” section on Facebook. And after THAT I linked you to any existing Facebook support groups. Only difference: this time it’s the people who became, as the email said, “official candidates through the write-in process.”
Duvall Senator
- Jonathan Deal (We must not look to government to solve our problems. Government is the problem [Ronald Reagan].)
- Peter Pascacio (We’ll go with that [Alex Haley].)
Off Campus Senator
Warren Senator
GO. VOTE. NOW.
…before you forget, ’cause you were busy doing @#!# CORE homework!
OKAY, here’s what I did. I logged into Facebook and typed each candidate’s name into Facebook search. Their first name I made a link to either the picture they’re using to campaign with, or their profile pic (in many cases, both [in one case a Paint interpretation of a particularly evocative campaign poster]). Their last name is a link to whatever picture on their Profile Pictures Page amused or intrigued me most. And after that I quoted an intriguing, amusing, or just plain WHAT?! quote from their “Favorite Quotations” section on Facebook. And after THAT I linked you to any existing Facebook support groups. WHEW.
President
- Tyler Whitney (Those who say religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion is [[Ghandi])
- Michael Harri (I‘m not weakened by the fears/that you have applied/See I’m now learning in these walls/that You have supplied./Slow, slow down boy./Slow down to/Control [Collective Soul]) The Official Facebook Support Group. The Website.
EVP
- Tyler Hamilton (If at first you don’t suceed, then lower your standards.)
- Charley Brinkman (We cannot all do great things, but we can all do small things with great love [Mother Teresa].)
FVP
- Carl Chan (Spirituality is not religion. Religion divides people. Belief in something unites them.) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Boppell Senator
Mac Senator
- Jesse Prichard
- Stephen Jansons (..when I’m going through the hard times I like to punch dance away life’s problems…) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Ballard Senator
Stewart Senator
- Brittany Roach (life is a series of images that change as they repeat themselves [Andy Warhol]
East Senator
Arend Senator
- Beau Lamb (I feel like I’m in some Greek play, you try to control your fate, but the gods have other plans.)
- Rachel Busick (violence is not the answer [though it is a solution at times]) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Off Campus Senator
- David Kuraya (The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work [Emile Zola].) The Official Facebook Support Group.
Off Campus Rep
- Dan Lewis (The world will never be safe as long as millions live in poverty so the few can live as they wish [Shane Clairborne].) The Official Facebook Support Group.
The Shack and Christian Pop Lit
A Couple Preliminaries:
It is my intention not to reveal anything about The Shack which would constitute a decent plot “spoiler.” I’m not going to tell you who kills Dumbledore in book six, all right? I won’t mention specific events. I’ll skirt around the heavy imagery. I’ll even try to avoid quoting choice lines, because you too want to stumble across them in the sand as unexpectedly as I did. Pearls make for poor deja vu. But if you’re like me and prefer to hear nothing besides Vic Bobb’s hearty “read this” prior to opening a novel, then… you’ve probably stopped reading this post by now anyway. Proceed, as always, at your own discretion.
If you’re still reading, here’s the reason why we can have a full-fledged discussion of The Shack without revealing even the premise of the novel: the novel is somewhat of a frame story. What happens in the plot is in some ways secondary in importance (at least, I imagine, to the author of the book, if not spiritually and metaphysically) to the conversations the protagonist has with God, which occur in the middle section of the book and most of which have frustratingly little correspondence with the plot and main problem of the narration. There’s plenty to be in suspense about, etc., which doesn’t bear all too heavily on what I want to discuss with you. There were even times when, reading, I would think to myself, “This is so scripted. William P. Young is just using this novel as a dispensing machine for his little theological nuggets of wisdom. I prefer to search for nuggets, but no! Young has dumped a whole box of nuggets right into my lap. I have nugget overload, and what’s more—some of them are a little hard to swallow.” (These are chicken nuggets, of course; I’m not mixing metaphors.) I even felt a little vindicated, when, upon reading the afterward, I discovered that the conversations came to Young first, followed by the process of constructing a suitable narrative in which to frame them.
This brings me to preliminary two: I will also try to take off my critical/editor’s glasses and not comment about those literary elements of the writing which caused me to squirm, occasionally reconstruct sentences in my mind, and generally miss the message of the novel (which, I labor to remind myself, has nothing to do with commas, sentence structure, or the per-capita quantity of similes). Yes, there were times when I literally closed The Shack on my bookmark and exclaimed loudly to everyone in general, “This is stupid.” But the things that bugged me are of far less cosmic importance than the things they distracted me from. So while this post could be titled “The Literary Gnats and Other Capital Annoyances of The Shack,” I’m trying out this new focus-on-the-important-stuff approach. We can all vent our grammatical angst elsewhere.
Enough for pre-lims. Now to the liminaries themselves. I want to talk about one of the things Mack (main character) and God (other main character) discuss: the distinction between forgiveness and relationship.
Blogging
“Old Desiderio asks young Desiderio: ‘And when he offered you a night of perfect ecstasy in exchange for a lifetime’s contentment, how could you possibly choose the latter?’
And young Desiderio answers: ‘I am too young to know regret.’”
~ The Infernal Desire Machines of Dr. Hoffman, Angela Carter
The other night, in the midst of a family outing, my mom and one of my little brothers got into a rather heated argument about his MySpace. One of the family rules for the use of such sites is that they must be set on private. My mom had randomly looked up his profile and found it to be set on public, meaning any random stranger could browse his (rather extensive) albums of photos and read the (rather personal) thoughts on his blog. Naturally there was the usual discussion about the wide variety of pervs on the Internet these days, followed by the increasingly more usual discussion about what kind of impact that availability of one’s personal thoughts can have on one’s eventual career and current relationships.
I say increasingly more usual because, as opportunities for posting one’s personal life on the world wide web, whether it be in videos or passionate blog posts, increase, so too does discussion on the consequences of such behavior increase. In the media world, The New York Times Magazine published an article in May by avid blogger Emily Gould called Exposed, detailing the disastrous results of overly personal blogging in her own life. On the home front, concerned parents admonish their younglings that if a potential employer found that badly-spelled love letter to anarchy the child posted on their MySpace, job offers might not be the first thing on their minds. Friends of mine have been known, when asked by me why they don’t share their wealth of opinions in the occasional Facebook note, instead of only in late-night discussions, to shrug and reply, “Well, I want to go into politics someday, and I don’t need some stupid thing I wrote at twenty coming back to haunt me.”
What about you? Have you ever had something you published online come back to haunt you in your personal or professional life, and, if so, do you regret it? If it came out that a politician or other leader you admire had written something when young that contradicts their current opinions, would it change your feelings about them?
Things I Don’t Understand
What? Sandals just aren’t douchey enough? So you genetically crossbreed a sandal and a Birkenstock? The result is a hideous mutant freak shoe that is a crime against nature. Quit playing God you Dr. Moreau of footwear
Jessica Biel:
She is just not that hot.
The Mariners keeping Richie Sexson:
This is not a sports blog (If you would like to see a good one try Withleather) so I won’t bore you with stats and whatnot, but he is as worthless to the Mariners as Jack Johnson is to music.
Skydiving:
Throw myself out of a plane? No thanks. Here is a list of things I would rather do: Eat a cricket, wear chacos in the winter, punch myself in the face, play scrabble with Nancy Grace, watch an episode of Mind of Mencia… ehhh, maybe not that last one.
Cover charges at bars:
You want me to pay you for the privilege to come in and buy alcohol at your bar? I’ll pass.
The Arcade Fire:
I am missing something here? Am I the only person who does not like the Arcade Fire? Really? Maybe I am missing something, but I just can not stand how pretentious they are.
Comedians who blame the audience when their joke bombs:
You probably don’t see this a lot because most comics who are good enough to be on TV don’t do it, but as an open mic regular I see it often. Example: comic goes to the stage and pulls out phone, (props?) pretends to have conversation with someone on the other end of the phone. Conversation is profanity laced and about a club she went to. Punchline: “The club was called the Aristocrats,” near silence, one person sympathy chuckles, “Oh good, one person here has seen that movie.” No, he was not the only audience member who had seen the movie or was familiar with the concept, the joke wasn’t funny. Five minutes of almost incomprehensible muttering full of f-bombs followed by “The aristocrats” is not a joke. Don’t insult my intelligence by assuming that your jokes are too complicated for me. They were not funny. Get over yourself.
Horses:
If you don’t live on a farm, you don’t need a horse. Someone tell my neighbor back home. Every time I drive down my drive way, at a reasonable speed mind you, it spooks her horse, which results in her shooting me a dirty look.
Black Licorice:
It tastes like dirt. On a related note, here is something else I don’t understand, how I can hate black licorice, but not mind the taste of Jägermeister.
Homophobes:
I worked with a guy who was: A. A total douche, and B. a homophobe (I think the two really go hand in hand). We worked for a party rentals company and one day we were setting up a bunch of tents at a winery in Woodinville. This winery had an event coordinator named Marcus. Marcus is gay. Not normal gay dude gay, but TV stereotype gay. Like Ryan Evans gay. We had some questions about the tents and Marcus was the person to ask. “I’m not gonna ask him, I avoid talking to gay guys whenever possible,” Mike so eloquently stated, “ ‘Cuz if one of hit on me, I’d probably have to kick his ass.” Keep in mind, this is at 9:30 in the morning, and Mike already has ranch dressing on his face, shirt and sock. Gay dudes are not into that, you fat, sloppy bastard. No one is into that. A lot of guys think that because they have no standards and will copulate with any woman that breathes, that gay dudes are the same way, but (duh) with dudes. Not true. Homophobes, think of gay dudes as being like your classier male friends who actually have standards. Dipset! No homophobia. (I guess you guys don’t get that joke. Your fault, not mine.)
Why your mother refuses to tell you that she and I are in a relationship:
You are an adult and you deserve to know. Now that I am your new daddy, go mow my lawn.
Why the open face sandwiches went away:
It has been mentioned in this blog several times (sometimes by me, sometimes others) that SAGA did make delicious open faced sandwiches in the pizza conveyor/oven at lunch, but now they are gone. In their place we have a pizza with mushrooms so big and gnarly they look like they escaped from middle earth. (Is that what it is called in LOTR? Or is it Mid-world? Is that from The Dark Tower? Am I a nerd? Yes.)
Arrested Development gets canceled during the 2005-2006 season and Mind of Mencia was the highest rated show on Comedy Central in 2005, and is still on the air:
I just threw up.
The Spanish subjunctive tense:
AKA the bane of my existence.
The Japanese language:
I watched five minutes of a Japanese language on Youtube the other day, and I did not understand a single word. I know; I was surprised too.
Spokane Dick’s:
How is this even legal? The same name, same menu (plus crap), same style, but much lower quality than a real Dick’s. It is an embarrassment to Richard himself, customers, the city of Spokane, cows, potatoes, and most importantly, me. I love Dick’s. (No homophobia.)
How to cut my post in half and insert “more after the jump” link:
Make Your Case: Television
We’ve had some pretty spirited conversation about movies in Cory Marshall’s greatest films post, and I’d like to open debate for a similar topic without waiting for debate to open in a comment thread, or hijacking another person’s post.
Television is a varied enough medium that trying to declare any one show the best or most influential runs into a host of problems. Should the genre be limited — best comedy? Best drama? Should quality be the standard for selection, or influence? What role should popularity play? How important is originality?
I’d like to open the topic for discussion. To kick off debate, I’ll throw out two unsupported declarations for the frontrunners in my mind: Twin Peaks and The Simpsons. So: Attack! Defend! All in the spirit of lively discussion.
The N-word, revisited
This forum tends to spark good conversations with people I respect, so I wanted to bring this topic here. My branch of communication studies is speech, rather than journalism, so there are accepted norms in the journalistic profession I’m not fully aware of… and I hope my writing this does not violate any.
Words are symbols that represent ideas in peoples’ minds. Those symbols are radically different in different cultures (almost any concept expressed by an English word is expressed very differently with a Chinese character, for example). They also change over time. However, they can only change with regular usage – which is why “burying” a word will not do anything except perpetuate its legacy.
I honestly don’t think many young people today associate the word “gay” with “happy,” nearly as much as with today’s more common meaning. A similar thing can happen with the “N-word,” but only if we let it. I’d like to make two points:
First, if a parrot squawked the “N-word,” would you scold it? Clearly, the only important thing when a word is used is the meaning – either the meaning intended for it by the speaker, or the meaning listeners get from it. So to be as clear as possible: My advice is not to go around yelling the word from the rooftops. It is very inappropriate in most settings, especially since people will often be offended by its use. Because of the intense feelings associated with it, it should not be used casually, but… burying the word will not help anything.
This is especially true considering my second point. There are many other derogatory terms used to degrade blacks in the past (and present). The truth of the matter comes out: Words and slang obviously can be created faster than they can be buried. You can bury the N-word, but you’re just burying the word as the parrot spoke it – empty and meaningless. At the funeral, it’s an empty casket going in the ground, the contents – racism – still walk the earth and will inhabit other words. All you will gain is zombifying the N-word. Whenever it is resurrected, it will be all the more terrible.
2007 in Film — Two Lists, and a Lot More Words
There’d been some hemming and hawing in Hollywood about whether the film industry’s premiere awards show could go on without its needed scribes. But thanks to the writers’ strike ending after almost 100 long days, indeed, There Will Be Oscars.
So before the Academy renders my personal opinions null and void later today, I’ve been working to assemble two lists of my own: my top ten films from last year, and my picks in the Oscar categories I feel educated enough to discuss.
2007 was a pretty amazing year for cinema. Yes, the summer marked an especially low point with Revenge of the Threequels (Spider-Man 3, Shrek 3, Ocean’s 13, Pirates of the Caribbean 3, Bourne [Fancy Noun] 3, etc.), but some of those weren’t half-bad. And I’ll gladly drag myself to anything that Our Lord And Comedic Savior Judd Apatow stamps with his divine imprimatur. But sandwiched around the lighter fare were some masterpieces that are going to linger at the top of the critical charts for a long, long time. Some I caught in theatres, others I had to catch up with on DVD, and one I had to track down online due to its sheer scarcity. Getting on the the list itself, though, let’s build some suspense and do the top ten thing in reverse order then, eh?