Drake Re-Injures Leg at NJ Concert

* UPDATE - Drake has tweeted the following message from his account: "All is well...on the bus laying down...getting surgery this week but I'm walking. Thank my whole YM family for the help! Lion Hearts!"

I'm not one of the millions of teenage fans who jumped on the Drake bandwagon after 1-2 hits, but I can't deny the man's talent. Even so, I'm going to allow Drake to earn my respect/attention, before I start lauding him as the premier force in rap.

Well, I don't know what it is about Drake, but DESPITE the incredible success of his music content, this rising star seems to be very... "obstacle-prone."

1. ACL injury a few months ago brings unwanted press and questions about Drake's live performance ability.

2. The 2009 BET awards performance with Lil' Wayne receives tons of bad press. With underage girls dancing their hearts out to a song about "'F'ing every girl in the world," the BET network had to issue a formal apology for Drake's stage showing.

3. The Kanye West directed "Best I Ever Had" video was NOT a hit among Drake's fans. With the over-exposure of the female anatomy and unrelated video plot, Drake's momentum faltered big time (He alienated a large % of his fan base).

4. Tonight, in a NJ concert, Drake forgot to go easy on his recovering leg. He was overcome by performance excitement, reportedly jumping around stage and even spinning. Unfortunately, while he gave the fans what they wanted, he also re-injured his knee/leg, and ACL injuries are not pretty or quick to heal. Drake had to be taken off stage, so this sounds pretty serious.

My Question: Will Drake ever reach solid ground and become the Rap messiah that fans already think he is, or will these constant pitfalls get the best of this new, unseasoned rapper?

Read more...

Even though you’re doing drugs, you still need the proper etiquette.

GUEST COLUMN:
Okay, so the guy two whole spots to the right of you just sparked the blunt. I know you’re excited and itching to take a hit, but you have to just chill out. For those of you who are casual smokers, you need to know a few essential and simple rules that the lifted follow to heart. I know a lot of you know how to smoke- but I just want to stress the unspoken code among the real tree lovers. If you follow these guidelines, you’ll always be welcomed for another one with the more elevated bunch:

1- The roller gets to spark up the piece. Don’t ever try to touch that from his hand. That’s grounds for laying someone out. He can talk as long as he wants (some do) but don’t do anything unless you’re really chill with the sparker. It’s his artwork and you smoking it, you have to respect it.
2- Once the blunt is sparked no leavers or new-comers. If broken, it must be agreed upon or will be taken as a sign of rudeness and possibly disrespect.
3- Puff Puff Pass. It’s simple. Be courteous, take two hits. Don’t be selfish. It’s a communal activity. I’m not saying that you can’t smoke – just take big ass hits.
4- Always ash before you give it to another, no matter how much ash is on it. If forgotten, it’s a very asshole-like.
5- Don’t break the rotation. Everything’s going in a circle, don’t mess up the momentum.
6- You can’t be smoking anything else, unless specified by the group. That means no cigarettes until after the blunt is killed. I know you want to look cool because you’re blasted out of your mind, but be patient-finish the piece.
7- Don’t talk or do anything but smoke when you have it between your hands. You’re smoking to get lit. Not to tell stories. Save the fairytales for bedtime.
8- Probably the most important and the most obvious, NO drooling/biting/nigger lipping (not to be offensive, but its just the correct terminology). I can’t stress how much we can’t stand that. It not only reinforces the idea that you are a novice, but that you can’t chill. Please don’t bite down or drool all over the piece. It’s an artwork, a genius. It’s a lifestyle and culture. Its what separates people who think like Obama from people who think like McCain. It differentiates swimmers from people who shatter world records like Michael Phelps (aside from the fact that he has extraordinary talent)
9- Asking before you kill the piece. That’s just common sense.
10- And finally, I know it’s a lot to handle, but just try to relax, man, and just have fun. Tell stories after you pass that piece.

Smoke well. Be kind to your fellow smokers.
-Dandb

Dandb, is currently an undergraduate student who is a heavy believer of the ganja. He believes that current efforts in legalizing the substance has given people like him hope that one day people will see how silly this law issue was. (Remember prohibition efforts)

Read more...

Qué Onda México?

GUEST COLUMN:

When I landed in Mexico, I was broke and without a cell phone. I lost my card running through the Houston airport terminal trying to make my flight and by the time I landed in Mexico, my cell phone had lost all service. I spent my first night with my home-stay family trying to explain how I needed to call America and order a replacement and that it was toll-free. Thank God the father of the house spoke some English and after 12 transfers and two hours later, my new card would be sent by next week. What a way to enter a foreign country right? My family however was more than understanding and helpful.

I would say from there it was smooth sailing but like life, there is never a clear path. Yet, there are all ways green patches.

I spent three months in Puebla, Mexico, from January to March, studying Spanish language and culture through my school's study abroad program. It wasn't like the Mexico that is portrayed in America. Some of the people in Mexico are well-to-do; I mean really well to do. They have their 1% of wealth just like in America. I went to college with kids wearing Burberry handbags, and Gucci and Prada flip-flops.

Besides the classes, I liked spending time and talking with my family the most. I wish I would have spent more time with them. The mother cooked me anything I wanted even though I didn't want much. The father loved talking politics, and the grandson was one of the cutest babies I have ever seen. They taught me so much about the Mexican dynamics of family and how much people loved Barack Obama better than Bush.

Through my program, I climbed pyramids and visited ancient cities like Teohucan where the Aztecs lived. I've walked through a coffee plantation, witnessed the production of chocolate in the form we know it as, and saw how much effort goes into making a rug. I bought a really nice one! Soccer games have more edge to them in Mexico. I learned some colorful new vocabulary that day. On a more dangerous note, I learned old Mexican horses and mountains don't mix, but it may be worth it to see a waterfall.

Too me it felt like I had celebrity status in Mexico, but after a while the staring got boring. Due to Mexico's homogenous population, people started at me, asked me about my hair and how it could be braided, and even took pictures with some of my black friends. Later we learned that a deep-seeded prejudice against Afro-Mexicans exist and those Afro-Mexicans have been exiled. But you wouldn't know it just by asking someone. There is also prejudice against the Native people of Mexico. Looks like Mexico and America have more in common than what they thought.

All in all, I would not trade my experiences in Mexico for the world! I think everyone should at some point in their lives leave their home countries and go exploring. Not on some touristic, happy camera snapping exploring, but more so on a profound culturist approach. I miss the family I stayed with and the people I met their A LOT!! Especially this homosexual guy named Martin, who only spoke in English and loved everything European and the word "Wetback." Problematic, I know, but he was great fun. Oh yeah, one of the best parts was visiting a market that sold silver jewelry at damn near free prices.

-Shayla Mars

Shayla Mars is orignially from the southside of Chicago,IL but now currently goes to school in the wilderness known as Dartmouth College in New Hampshire. She is a Spanish minor and Cultural Studies major.

Read more...

RACE[ism]

GUEST COLUMN:

What is RACE? What is DIVERSITY? What is EQUALITY? What is DISCRIMINATION?

People toss around these terms every day, but what do they really mean? In the dictionary one can find ‘race’ to be defined as any number of things:

1. a group of persons related by common descent or heredity.
   
2. any of the traditional divisions of humankind, the commonest being the Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negro, characterized by supposedly distinctive and universal physical characteristics: no longer in technical use.
   
3. an arbitrary classification of modern humans, sometimes, esp. formerly, based on any or a combination of various physical characteristics, as skin color, facial form, or eye shape, and now frequently based on such genetic markers as blood groups.
   
4. a human population partially isolated reproductively from other populations, whose members share a greater degree of physical and genetic similarity with one another than with other humans.
   
5. any people united by common history, language, cultural traits, etc.: the Dutch race.
   
6. the human race or family; humankind: Nuclear weapons pose a threat to the race.
   

  SOURCE: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/race

But what does it mean for people to use race as an integral part of ones vocabulary, when there very well is no universal definition to indicate what is meant by their use of that word? And if it is impossible to decipher the true meaning of race [if one even exists] then how can we try to define diversity, equality, and racism BECAUSE aren’t they somehow interrelated and dependent on a concrete understanding of RACE?

My life experience thus far has provided me with the opportunity to witness how these ambiguously-defined terms function in a society that is framed on the constitutional belief that, “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union…do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”
SOURCE: http://www.usconstitution.net/const.html#Preamble

I prefer to explore this issue by recalling some rather recent experiences that sparked my passion for exploring the meaning of RACE.

EXPERIENCE #1

         I recently attended an “awards show” that was hosted by a respected college organization, and having no exact idea of what to expect from the show, I assumed that it would be a typical event to honor the positive contribution various people made to the campus community. But the awards show was shocking and not like anything you would expect to occur at Dartmouth [at least I hope not] and I am positive that had it occurred at Dartmouth the Black community would have become largely divided.
      The awards offered were things like
            "ashiest boy" [the award given was a bottle of lotion]
            "darkest boy [in terms of skin color]"
             "girl with the biggest donk"
            "boy with the worst hollering game"
            "most annoying boy"
            “biggest flirt” and “best swag”

      All persons in attendance were expected to have voted in advance and for every award category the hosts posted personal photographs of the nominees [yes, there were photos of people in their Friday ‘going to the club’ outfits]. But what was the worst is that the female MC said so many inappropriate things. For example, when the guy won the swag award, she stated very loudly in the microphone "ooh ima bout to take my panties off …yeah thats my boo, yep hes got that swag, thank you boo for last night...ooh ima bout to go take my panties off right now."

      When it was later announced that the young lady to win biggest flirt was not present, the MC proceeded to say "oh yeah…she’s a flirt…yall better watch out cause she will try to take yall's man...yeah she is trying to take my man,” then she said "yeah she’s not here...alright... he [in referring to the guy who won the swag award] knows where it’s at" as she began grinding for in her super-mini dress.

      Even the guy to win “the funniest” award decided to perform for the audience and started grinding on the floor to the point that he lost his shoe in the middle of completing a split. Some people watching laughed, others looked on in disbelief, and the person next to me whispered “coonery.”

EXPERIENCE #2

       During class, a student conveniently shifted a discussion of race and the equal protection clause to focus on affirmative action in particular. Affirmative action is a topic bound to bring debate and I cannot recall a single instance where PERSON Y was not upset at PERSON X. The debate was sparked by question asking how the admissions committee decided which persons would be granted admission to our school. The professor tried answering but of course he wanted to have people chime in, so one student did that by stating the following:

"My brother goes to the medical school and in some class there was a Black girl and she knew everything and was better than him...and he asked her how she knew all these things and she explained she attended a class over the summer [possibly an enrichment program like SEAD or LEAD at Dartmouth]...and hence, it seems unfair that the Black student should have to take that class twice in order to do better...because that is almost assuming she is stupid and cannot get it right the first time...."

And this student proceeded to contradict themselves in saying " you know...I don’t think its fair she is able to take the class twice and there’s this expectation she cannot perform well the first time just because of her race…and if I must go to the hospital, I don’t want the Black girl who is too stupid to get the stuff right the first time to operate on me.”

- BrownSugar

BrownSugar is currently pursuing a higher level of education, knowledge and growth in an environment that one can only hope ALSO grows with age.

Read more...

1 Man vs. 6 College Sorority Girls

GUEST COLUMN:

Every morning, after getting ready for my day in the dirty third floor bathroom I share with my two floormates, I head downstairs towards the kitchen, trying my best to avoid the two full trash bags, what appears to be a vomit stain, and the several pairs of high-heeled shoes that are strewn about on the second floor landing. When I get to the kitchen, I find four dirty pans situated on top of our four burners, a sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes and silverware, a kitchen table covered with several shot glasses, bottles of alcohol, and inexplicably enough, two bags of rotting produce. To top it all off, the two trashcans in the corner are overflowing and spilling trash onto the ground. Discouraged by the state of our kitchen, I decide, as always, to forgo making a omelet in favor of grabbing breakfast from a food cart down the street. This routine is a part of my every day life, and my soul-crushing existence as the only guy in a small row house with six undergraduate sorority girls.

I can't help but roll my eyes every time some guy gives me knowing grunt of approval upon hearing of my living situation. For whatever reason, they think it must be really glamorous and awesome, like I'm some kind of swinging lothario in a house of beautiful women. The truth is much less exciting. I didn't even have much choice in living here. I stayed in a friend's college dorm room while she was on fall break, with the knowledge that I'd need to move out by the end of the week. I visited a bunch of places on craigslist, and this listing was cheap, immediately available, and in the right area. Sure, I figured it might be awkward as the only guy in a house full of girls, but at least things would be somewhat clean, right? Wrong. I can safely say that I have been in active fraternity houses that are kept cleaner than my house on any given day.

Though cleanliness is a major issue, it certainly isn't the only one. My landlord sold me on the place saying that my housemates were friendly and quiet, and that she rarely saw them. After being woken up at 4 am with drunkenly shouted accounts of the night's sexual episodes, I am beginning to feel misled. Overheard from a few nights ago: “If I'm pregnant, I don't even know who the father is!” Rock on. On another night, I remember opening my door and grumbling something about keeping it down. After momentarily quieting down, they gradually raised the volume of their conversation again... but had switched to Spanish. Apparently, they were worried about my hearing their lurid secrets and not as worried about keeping the peace at 4:30 am. Unfortunately, I also understand Spanish, so it was a pretty bad night for me, all in all.

Having lived the past year of my life in a third world country, I assumed I'd be able to get by living anywhere in the states. Certainly, I had a long list of first-world amenities that I had taken for granted. Hot water, a reliable power grid, easily accessible drinking water, etc. While I'm thankful for these amenities, living in my current situation has made me realize that maybe the third world wasn't so bad, after all. On days when things are particularly bad, I find myself longingly scouring craigslist and sighing deeply. Still, the hassle of moving and finding someone to take over my sublease, and the cost in time and money strongly urge me to stay put. Besides, if I can put up with ten months living in a third world country, four more months of this should be a piece of cake, right? … Right!?

I guess only time will tell.

-OddManOut

OddManOut is currently surviving in West Philadelphia. He's attempting to eke out a living as a volunteer research assistant and MCAT tutor

Read more...

Home Away From Home

GUEST COLUMN:

I have secret elves who cook me dinner, do my laundry, make my bed, and once in a while, they even leave mints on top of my pillow. No, I am not a delusional, overworked, and over-stressed public school teacher creating a fantastical world to ease the pain of observing incompetence on a daily basis. These elves happen to be my parents. And no, I also don't live at home.

This past summer, my parents caught their annual real estate fever. (My mom's been wanting to buy an apartment in the city ever since I was five. Unfortunately, the plan has never come to fruition because of the mortgage they already had on their house.) But, I guess the time was right, and I would be able to co-own the place. It wouldn't be hard to get the loan either since I have a steady income. Of course, my parents also wanted me to live in this apartment, and they explained the convenience of seeing me and coming over whenever they felt like it. They even envisioned my brother living with me while he did his summer internship. I cringed at the idea of them "coming over whenever they felt like it." It seemed like my privacy would be lost forever. I mean, they would have the keys to my apartment unless I decided to be really cruel and change the locks or something.

But, with my lease at my old apartment coming up, I decided to just live there...or here, rather. And really, I couldn't have made a better decision. Sure, it kind of sucks that my parents have complete access to my place, but they actually do respect boundaries. If they think I might be home, they'll call ahead of time, at least enough to hide the guy I have over in the closet. (Just kidding!) My dad comes over every afternoon to leave food in my fridge and letters that still go to my old address. He frequently washes the dishes if there are any and cleans the toilet. If my laundry bag is full, he'll take it home and my mom will do my laundry. (This also means folding service once in a while if she's in an especially good mood.)

I was extremely independent in college and didn't know how I would feel to have my parents so involved in regard to my living situation. But it's rather nice, and it's really made me appreciate all the little things they do for me. Do I envy watching my roommate lug all her dirty clothes and trek over to the laundromat every other week? Or the amount of time and effort she puts in to make decent meals? ...No. I know I sound a bit spoiled and super pampered but hey, I went to school on the other side of the country. I'm enjoying privileges that I was never able to experience in my younger days.

It's not like I'm living it up for free though. My parents are getting a pretty good cut of my money every month.

-Shelley

Shelley is a public school teacher who works in the Bronx.

Read more...