Wisconsin Republicans sent a letter to two federal agencies Monday voicing their frustration with the relegated role of beef in the the agencies’ new recommendations to accompany the food pyramid.
It may come as no surprise to many that the United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world. Even more unsurprising to some might be the racial disparities in our prison system (black men are more likely to be sent to prison than white men in this country).
The Statue of Liberty is one of the most prominent symbols of America and is inscribed with this sentence: “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” Other common American values include equality, freedom and the ability to make a good living for oneself with hard work. Another aspect America is surely known for is consumerism, a not-so-small part of this being the brand Coca-Cola, which has, whether we like it or not, been a most enduring part of American culture and demonstrates one of the ways we as Americans are connected. Because everyone drinks Coke, right? Screw Pepsi. (Just kidding, Pepsi is fine.)
Having recently applied to law school and talked to my dad about the “optional essay,” which usually asks a diversity related question: i.e. “How can you contribute to the diversity of this campus?,” I realized women still have a long way to go. Speaking with him on the phone, I asked him what angle I could take on my diversity and how it will add to Georgetown Law School’s campus. I’m a white girl from the Midwest, so I didn’t think I had much to offer. “Well you know, women have made progress, but you’re still not equal to men,” my dad so brilliantly remarked. And, ding-ding-ding, a light bulb went off. Female political science students here at the University of Wisconsin- Madison—this column is dedicated to you, but male political science students should listen as well.
I wish every student on campus could have seen this; gay, straight, black, white, Hispanic, Asian. Everyone. I am not in a minority group, unless we can still consider women as a minority, which maybe we can in some instances (though, thank God, I think that generation is dying off). Never have I felt so lucky and full of opportunity during my years at a university. Jonathan Rauch, a well known journalist, activist and writer of “Kindly Inquisitors” came to lecture in my First Amendment class Tuesday. Never have I felt so enlightened, free from ignorance and more eager to share this with every single person on this campus, hell every person in the United States, if my opinion could reach that far, maybe even the world. This topic is not an easy one, in fact it is one with very blurry lines. It is the topic of free speech with regard to minorities and hate speech. Jonathan Rauch asked us what lines should be drawn? Should we have laws and speech codes that prohibit hateful speech? Rauch, an open homosexual, says no. Before you get extremely alarmed and confused by his answer, you should hear his argument, which is incredibly strong and in my view, unwavering. At the beginning of his lecture I answered, “Of course we should,” as I believe that everyone, no matter who they are, deserves to feel comfortable in their own skin at all times. And if law needs to be the means in which we make sure that’s the case, then so be it. But throughout his lecture, in which I cried, had goose bumps almost the entire time and actually felt my mind being changed for the better, my answer changed.
In trying to think of a relevant issue my student readers would enjoy, I realized scoping current events for something I could form an opinion about just wasn’t cutting it. Instead, I chose to look to the expert —myself and my peers. We’re the experts. We know what is relevant to students because we are the students. Not that this is a normal occurrence in our apartment, but last night my roommates and I engaged in a conversation that was extremely relevant and inspired this column today.
The song “Blurred Lines,” by Robin Thicke featuring T.I. and Pharrell Williams, which has been at the top of the American charts for weeks, is a perfect example of how American popular culture promotes rape and sexual violence against women. The song has grown famous for its extremely offensive lyrics and a music video so sexually explicit YouTube has blocked it. Aside from this, the song features lines that objectify and degrade women, and suggest that women’s voices simply don’t matter.
When talking about Death Grips, inevitably someone’s going to mention Odd Future. It’s not an entirely inaccurate comparison; both (on paper, at least) are grimy, punky, shock-inclined takes on hip-hop with a tremendous hype train backing them. Except Odd Future, as time has revealed, aren’t all they’ve painted themselves as—just take a look at Tyler, the Creator; less brooding hip-hop messiah and more gangly Dennis the Menace. Death Grips’ debut, The Money Store, makes a point of drawing a distinct line in the sand between the band and its competitors. Death Grips are real, terrifying and incredible.
The election of Scott Brown in Massachusetts Tuesday night sent tremors through the political world. A wake up call was sent to the Washington establishment that Americans were, at the very least, concerned about the direction the country was heading. A Republican was able to pull off the unthinkable by taking on the Massachusetts Democratic machine and turning a seat that was once held by none other than Ted Kennedy into a seat that sustained the filibuster and blocked any hope of health-care reform. In a state where Democrats enjoy a three-to-one advantage in terms of voter registration, how could such a high profile Democrat lose when so much was on the line?
Columnist Andy Van Sistine broods over why TV networks must keep importing commentators who were great at football but seem to lack coherent speaking skills.
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Solutions by The State News
