The city erupted. People spilled into the streets. Like a pack of migrating wildebeests, the drunken hockey faithful formed a collective whole and pushed towards the TD Garden.
For men, the goal is to look like you’re a 45 year old corporate executive on the weekend. Wear collared shirts at all times, either polo or button up (sleeves rolled up, of course, and never unbutton more than the first button). Wear khakis—rarely jeans, never cargo pants.
Of course, I came here 20 years ago, when I was 21 and it was amazing — cheap and filled with freaks. Now it’s freakishly expensive and all those young ‘uns? They work for Google (or Apple or Yahoo or Genetech; there is an endless parade of corporate buses barreling up and down Guerrero headed to or from the Peninsula on a daily basis).
Perhaps the most popular argument against Black Graduation is that white students could never have a “White Graduation.” Some find this comparison inappropriate, contending that many blacks are first-generation college students, which makes their accomplishment more meaningful to them and their loved ones.
My point is this: Power, as Foucault says, comes from everywhere. It is not something that exists out there, that comes from the top, that is enforced by police (although it’s that, too.) Power is what makes you move, physically and emotionally.
When the FBI raided Ted Kaczynski‘s remote cabin in the woods of Lincoln, Montana back in 1996, they found “a wealth of bomb components, 40,000 handwritten journal pages that included bomb-making experiments and descriptions of the Unabomber crimes; and one live bomb, ready for mailing.” Since then, Kaczynski has resided at ADX Florence, a supermax prison in Colorado.
When I go out, there are only three things I want to do: drink, get laid and dance. And dancing is the most important on this list. I always, always want to dance, because there’s something wonderful about expressing how much I love my friends when we’re jumping around to Arcade Fire or how much I am down to take you home when I’m grinding to “You Can Do It”, a kind of something that words just cannot convey.
I was in my early twenties when I moved halfway around the world, naively thinking I could start over and integrate myself quickly since I was raised on American television, sang Britney Spears songs and ate my share of Trix (because Jerry Seinfeld said it was his favorite). I believed I was young, educated and smitten enough to make things happen…
Ten years ago on September 11 when Weddle heard about the terrorist attacks on our nation, he got so caught up following the news that he forgot to shave for a whole week. It was then that he decided he wouldn’t shave until Bin Laden was either dead or captured.
Maybe you’ve heard, Osama bin Laden was killed yesterday. The People of Twitter told me so. Or at least, told me I should step away from my computer and sit back down in front of my television to watch a press conference. But the press conference didn’t air when they said it would, so I started losing interest and flipping channels, distracted long enough to miss half the President’s address. Though I knew the gist: Jihadist #1 was dead.