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I’d like to preface this article by saying that I am an incredibly privileged person who was lucky to have the means and opportunity to pursue a college education. Many people do not get the same chances I got, and I realize that they might be happy to be in my position. But with that said, college was fucking miserable. Of course misery is relative, but I think I pretty much bottomed out around a half a dozen times over the last four years.
On April 16, the Center for Visual Arts will host award-winning cartoonist Carol Tyler at Arellano Theatre. Tyler’s visit to campus comes in advance of the publishing of her latest graphic novel Fab4 Mania, which will be released through Fantagraphics in June of this year. In anticipation of her upcoming visit, The News-Letter spoke to the artist, discussing her life, work and the confluence of the two.
Dying is a bit like going to the dentist: You don’t particularly want to do it, and you spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about it. Ultimately though, you go — everyone does. As much as you floss and brush in hopes of delaying the appointment a bit longer, one day you’ll find yourself stuck reclining in a green vinyl chair.
If you’re a middle- or upper-middle-class progressive — especially if you’re white — there’s a good chance that you listen to NPR. Why that’s the case is irrelevant, just know that it’s a fact, like gravity or that the Academy Awards are racist.
Creativity is linked inexorably to identity. One’s idea of self shapes the form and content of expression across almost every medium. Much like self-realization, creativity takes time, and the process of bringing the two together as a coherent whole is anything but immediate.
Remember when Richard Spencer got punched in the head on TV? That was a great moment in the history of racists getting beaten. Our anonymous black-clad hero played Spencer’s head like it was a game of Bop-It; he snuffed him like a vanilla-scented candle.
On November 15 of this year, 21-year-old rapper/singer Lil Peep died of an apparent overdose. Peep’s music career was inherently linked to the drugs that eventually killed him. He was at the forefront of a genre known as “emo hip hop,” a style which linked the suburban tragedy of bands like My Chemical Romance with contemporary SoundCloud rap. Lyrically, its content is steeped in drug abuse, mental illness and the intersection of the two.
Even before I met Alpha Johnson I sort of knew who he was, sort of. I knew Alpha as the rapper Joey Bricks, who I was introduced to when a friend showed me the video for his song “No Love.” The general wavy quality of that song, as well as the fact that I see Alpha almost everyday — on-campus, at work, everywhere — made an interview with him a must.
Silicon Valley and its affiliated companies are often associated with the progressive, the cutting edge, the delightful future in which technology unites us all as a global community with ready access to the joys of borderless capitalism. Indeed, the services some of the most well-known tech giants offer have made our lives — that of an upper class with disposable income — collectively easier.
The late 1990s and early 2000s were an interesting time for hip-hop. Labels like Bad Boy, G-Unit and Ruff Ryders had essentially come to define the New York sound, which had become far more melodic and polished.
More than two years have passed since his death, but Freddie Gray still lives on in Baltimore. Just last week, one of the officers involved in Gray’s death, Lieutenant Brian Rice, was cleared of administrative charges. Rice, along with three other officers complicit in Gray’s death, beat the case against him, in what many Baltimoreans saw as a gross miscarriage of justice.
This past weekend, the Ottobar hosted the sixth annual U+N Fest, a two day event organized by Baltimore-based booking company, Unregistered Nurse Booking.
As someone who would identify as far-left, anti-authoritarian and perhaps even anti-state, the FBI is, for the most part, representative of everything wrong with government.
Baltimore’s disparate music scene is one of the most underappreciated great things in both the country and in the City itself. Even in an urban sprawl with eight universities, local talent is so often unexplored in favor of whatever pop sound defines each genre nationally.
I’m 21 years old, and I feel old as shit. Somehow, I managed to skip right over the quarter-life crisis and hopped right into the deep pool of existential dread that 40-year-old men live in fear of. That being said, premature adulthood has encouraged me not to spend my weekends in sweaty frat basements anymore.
Japanese animation is not particularly new to the American television canon. Exports have brought their talents to American networks since the 1960s and shows like Pokemon and Dragonball Z are of particular importance to many millennials.
Plenty of cities have rats. They are the archetypal urban pest, something seemingly inseparable from city life. However, for some reason, Baltimore seems to have become known for its rat problem.
It’s 2017 and almost nobody with an internet connection actually watches broadcast television anymore, except for Game of Thrones and maybe Rick and Morty. Nonetheless, for the most part people are streaming, which is fine because there are literally thousands of sites from which to do so, be they legal or otherwise.
The dour and gloomy atmosphere that keeps Homewood in a depressing stasis is all too familiar to your average Hopkins student — or maybe just the cynical ones. Fortunately, this environment is unique in Baltimore, a city that maintains its vibrance in spite of everything. So when one wants to escape the heavy-hand of academic insecurity and imagined doom, it is easier than they might assume to find refuge in what seems like a whole different world.
Summer is over, which means that this writer is back on his proverbial cow excrement. That is to say it is time for another article about a concert. While most of the Hopkins community spent their summer working a high-powered internship or impacting some positive change on the world, some of us chose to just work and listen to music.