The scene? Florida Gulf Coast University. It's graduation day, and I received my bachelor's in communication. My mother? In tears; snot running down her nose like it's allergy season. My father? Gives me $1000 for all my hard work-as you can see, I'm dreaming big. We leave, I hop into my chili red 2022 Mini Convertible. Face? Beaming, joyful, and exuberant expression is plaster on my gorgeous face. My teeth are, in the words of Rihanna, "Shining bright like a diamond". It's November, just past 6 PM, and it's 78 degrees exact. Are my seat warmers on? Yes, I like my buns toasted. As I drive, I hear the ringing of my iPhone XR. The number?Unknown. But I live life on the edge, so I obviously pick up. Who's on the other line? None other than A.G Sulzberger, the publisher for The New York Times offering me a position. I respond with a simple, "sounds great, I'll talk to my manager about this", and hang up with a courteous "bye". Little does he know, I don't have a manager. I don't even know how to get a manager. Fast forward 3 years, I'm a successful journalist living in The Big Apple working for The NYT, and I have my big break: I get to interview the magnificent, gorgeous, talented specimen of a man that formally goes by Harry Styles; but I call him my air. The interview runs smoothly and my air, I mean Harry, loves the interview so much he invites me to dinner. Do I say yes? No. I have to make it seem like I am a busy, independent woman…because I am! Instead, I respond, "I can happily squeeze that in my schedule", with my teeth gleaming in those royal green eyes. We go to a restaurant that I can't even pronounce-one direction reference- and we talk about life, philosophy, and music. We exchange numbers, he gives me a ride to my overpriced apartment, and I give him a friendly peck on the cheek. Before I exit his Porshe, he utters "Let's do this again sometime", in his sultry British accent. With that, his dimples and his car fade in the darkness. I reluctantly go into my apartment, missing the curly-haired man. However, my sullen-state is uplifted when my Bombay cat, Jasper, greets me at my door. I gently caress his face and head towards my bedroom. Once my nightly routine of pampering myself and unwinding is over, I throw myself on my queen-sized bed and catch up on emails. It's the usual. Emails from Oprah asking for an interview, Beyoncé asking if I could go to Blue Ivy's birthday, you know, the usual Friday evening. But then, my phone chimes, and who would have thought. Harry Styles is texting me, asking when he could see me again. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what my future looks like.
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It's sixth grade, and I am embarrassed and ashamed to be me.
It wasn't because I didn't like myself, no that's not why. It was because for a good chunk of my life on Earth I was relentlessly teased. It wasn't because of my miniature stature, or my thick mustache that I shouldn't have been rocking at the ripeness of my adolescents, or because of my horrible sense of fashion. It was because I wasn't black. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the one black girl in my white-dominated school, was not black. But, I bet you're wondering: "But, how could a black person NOT be black?" Well, great question person who is reading who I pray I do not know in real life! Apparently, if you don't like rap, the latest fashion trends, can't dance, and "speak" white, then you are therefore excluded from the black community. Well, according to my cousins at least. Yes, my own family teased me for being "too white". But not only that, for having a big behind as well...the one "black" feature I had. So what'd I do? The one thing I knew how to do best: Mask. Become a facade I had not known, but yearned to be. I'd spend hours memorizing lyrics to Drake instead of listening to my usual One Direction, learning dances instead of pre-algebra, and more stereotypical things I believed aided one in being black-as if I was taking a "How to be Black 101" course. Anyway back to sixth grade. I'm in a new school and I have no friends...whooptydoo! It's second period drama class and I'm surrounded by kids who don't know me. ...They don't know me. This, this was my chance to whip out all of my hard work of playing Drake's Energy and watching Martin on a loop! I muster up the courage to speak to the girl next to me, and I say, loud and proud, "I'm Telequinisha!"... Let's stop there folks. Let's analyze the issue with this entire predicament I put myself in. Firstly, I lied. Strike one. Secondly, she knew I lied...my teacher had just called roll and I-naturally- rose my name when I heard my name. My real name. Strike two. Lastly, the name I blatantly lied about being mine was not only horrible, but also stereotypical and a little prejudice. Strike three and I'm out. With all these bad aspects of my lie weighing me down, oddly enough the girl laughed and asked me-or I mean Telequinisha- about herself. And that she did. With her thick, southern 'blaccent', Telequinisha discussed all her favorite songs, from Drake to Lil Uzi Vert and all her MCMs (Man Crush Mondays...its 2016 lingo guys). Realizing that being Telequinisha allowed me to gain friends, I soon coined her as "one of my personalities" that I used to gain friends and make people laugh. While I used this throughout all of middle school, looking back I loathe myself by bringing this persona into my life. Not because she brought anything bad into my space, no that definitely isn't the case. It's the fact that I manifested a fictional caricature of what I imagined 'black person' to be like because that's what the media kept telling me black girls were. Just weave-patting, loud, uneducated people. When I, myself, am a black girl and I am none of those things. Black people are so much more than what I and my cousins assumed. I didn't need Telequinisha in my life to show how black I could be. I am black and that's enough. My cousins are black, and that's enough. Telequinisha is black, and that's enough. Why? Because being black is enough. O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilights last gleaming? In a world where immigrants are denied freedom because they aren’t “American enough”, Where horrific events from 60 years ago are reoccurring repeatedly, A country, Where families are getting broken apart every single day because the country that they came to for a new beginning no longer wants them. We are so called making America Great Again when all the policies that we need to succeed as a whole Are getting repealed, denied, and demolished. When after carrying a semiautomatic rifle to a protest and murdering two people in the process, Kyle Rittenhouse gets a slap on the wrist. Rallies are held against each other, with imbeciles retaliating saying “I did nothing wrong, it’s my freedom to carry", "It's my freedom of speech", "It's my freedom to breathe". Learning that Columbus “discovered” this country, When in reality he snatched an already discovered nation from the Natives, Killed them, While showing no mercy. Having those same Natives be the poorest people in the land that was stolen from their hands. Influencer suddenly “caring” about another Person of Color dying for the publicity. Typing a measly 'ACAB' or 'BLM' in their bio to show their support, Framing others into believing that they are kind and caring people, But replacing it weeks later with a discount code to get 20% of an online store. Making it a big deal when someone speaks the truth about the corrupted system that we call “home” is, when no one is trying to fix it. Brainwashing an entire society into believing that a single high-expectation body standard is the only tolerable one. Cloning young men and women to be the idealistic figurine that people literally kill for. Claiming that we “strive for equality” when we do not accept other for their differences. Making it okay when another shooting or bombing occurs because they didn’t look like your stereotypical terrorist, so they can’t be one. Public figures making others feel worthless. Teenagers and young adults fighting for what they want to transform this country in to. Adults praying that the new generations fix what mistakes they have made. Living in constant fear of a nuclear war, Of another bill passed to deport your loved one, Or another shooting might happen. This is the America we live in. O’er the land of the free And the home of the brave! If you were anything like four-year-old me, the one thing you wished to be when you were older was a Disney princess. Cinderella, Snow White, Ariel, are a few princesses that little girls aspire to be when they’re 16. Speaking to animals, meeting their 25-year-old 'Prince Charming' (although it is, in fact, illegal), and living happily ever after. The ideal ending to a little girl’s dream! But do the princesses truly lead a happy life with no issues forever? Doesn’t seem very practical. But, Disney wouldn’t lie to us, right? Disney wouldn’t deliberately plant the idea of “finding a hunky, strong man solves all of your issues” into young, impressionable girls’ minds…right? Youtuber Jon Cozart seems to think that’s the case. So much so that he rewrote Disney princess melodies and exposed a more practical ending to their happily ever afters. After Ever After by Jon Cozart utilizes parody, wit, and hyperbole to satirize the unrealistic happy ending Disney princesses gain in each movie. Ruining our childhoods one song at a time. A princess Cozart unravels in After Ever After is Pocahontas, a Native American who falls in love with the tall, blonde, and handsome John Smith. Unlike the other princesses, Pocahontas was a real young woman in the 16th century. While Disney creates a positive, happy ending for her and her village, the real-life story is anything but sparkles and happiness. By incorporating the melody of Disney’s “Colors of the Wind”, Cozart parodies the song by intertwining Disney’s narrative with the cruel reality of what Native American’s faced in North America. Cozart turns an empowering tune, into a grim, bleak ballad that Disney completely disregards. The reason Cozart's parody works so well is because of his constant clever wordplay. Cozart flawlessly blends wit into his dark lyrics, tugging on the heartstrings of broken-hearted Disney fans. By changing the original lyrics of "paint with all the colors of the wind" to "paint with the red colors in these men", Cozart plays on the fact that if the movie had been realistic, Pocahontas would’ve been quite brutal to the foreigners. Cozart does this again with the lyric "they greeted us with guns, and germs, and steel", switching the tone of happiness at the beginning of the phrase to the reality of what was happening in the 16th century. The true star of the video is Cozart’s exemplary use of hyperbole. Hyperbole is what shifts the tone from interesting to “mom, I’m scared” in the blink of an eye. While Cozart over-exaggerates the movie and Pocahontas as a whole, he does it all while staying true to Native American history. Lyrics such as “…I’m far more liberal with a weapon when I separate their bodies from their heads”, “…Bit the beating hearts of Spanish men”, and “I can murder if I please…”, Cozart over-exaggerates Pocahontas’ experiences to make her seem like a savage when that wasn’t the case in the film nor in real life. The eeriness of the exaggeration is what ties up this satire beautifully. Who knows what Jon Cozart was thinking when he created this sick, twisted jewel After Ever After but I’m glad he did. Although he might’ve destroyed my childhood for good, his satirization made me realize I’ve dodged a bullet by not becoming a Disney princess. So, if you ever wonder why, Disney tales all end in lies, here’s the satire in Pocahontas’ dreams coming true. In the year 2006, Disney aired a heinous television show that was contaminated with the message that lying to and blind-siding those closest to you is ok. Not to mention how the main character’s father fueled her lies too! Plotting her next move, how to get her out of messes, and even going as far as lying with her. If I were a parent during that time, I wouldn’t want my child to be influenced to lie straight through their teeth. Luckily for Disney fans, the show came to an abrupt end in 2011, the show I hated as a child finally reaching its final destination: the Disney trash can. Surprisingly enough, this show parodies one of Oscar Wilde’s greatest comedies, The Importance of Being Ernest, a play meant to explain the importance of being truthful. However, this disgusting show did anything but that. The poor excuse for a kid’s show, Hannah Montana, and the marvelous comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest, both follow the lives of protagonists leading a double life, teaching those both young and old the satire in the truth. Hannah Montana, having an audience of young girls who were most likely being taught that lying isn’t ok, ironically implemented from early on that lying was in fact ok, as long as you don’t get caught. Miley Stewart, the main character of the show, was repeatedly encouraged by her father to lie to her friends about her secret pop sensation alter ego, Hannah Montana because the truth would only bring issues. But this message only left the show’s young viewers wondering “shouldn’t the truth be good”? Well, if we take a look at The Importance of Being Earnest the main male leads believed in the same ideal: that ironically, lying is better than telling the truth. Jack and Algernon, the two leading men, both have no issue with lying and go as far as creating two alter egos themselves: Ernest and Bunbury. Miley, Jack, and Algernon all created stock characters that they could hide behind when they deemed necessary; Hannah was a stereotypical happy, bubbly pop star by night; Ernest was a stereotypical wealthy bachelor in the city; and Bunbury was a fragile, weak “friend” of Algernon who was always conveniently sick. Each alter-ego is so absurdly different from the true human behind the mask that it's almost laughable. They all poke fun at what it means to be a true version of oneself. The only time all three of these characters have an issue with lying is when their lies catch up to them, and those around them finally unmask the lies they were consumed in. Both of these stories spread the valuable message that white lies which don’t harm anyone are ok, as long as you don’t get caught. I still hate Hannah Montana for being a knock-off of the heavenly creation that is The Importance of Being Earnest but who knows, maybe that will change. Or maybe I’ve been lying to you this entire time just like Hannah Montana taught me; because it’s ok for me to lie, as long as I don’t get caught. In Jonathan Swift's outlandish essay, A Modest Proposal, Swift proposes an arbitrary solution to aid the impoverished Irish in the 1700s. Swift suggests the 'modest' idea of simply eating and making clothes out of children, aka cannibalism. Yummy! By mixing ¼ cup of irony, adding a dash of sarcasm, folding in ¾ cup of logic, and topping it off 1 tablespoon of hyperbole, Swift created a delicious satirical essay. As harsh and vile as this proposal sounds, this is what Juvenalian satire is supposed to do, and Swift sure did a hell of a job. Like all satires, Swift was trying to make a point and get through to something, and that something is quite obvious. In A Modest Proposal, Jonathan Swift satirizes the bleak ways of politicians handling major issues. Throughout the essay, Swift swiftly (see what I did there) defends the benefits of slaughtering infants at the ripe age of one, the perfect age when instead of mooching off of their parents for the basic necessities, their parents can do the same to them. It's quite literally, "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out". While it is an extremely bizarre proposal, Swift applies this method to mock how the British politicians at the time handled situations by enforcing mundane logic to fix substantial issues. We can see the same thing happen today too. Politicians of today use their logic and their way of thinking to fix issues they've created. Instead of doing the morally correct thing, they implement what they think is correct without involving emotions. Yet, funnily enough, when Swift did the same exact thing and even went as far as calculating that "one male will be sufficient to serve four females" (Swift 625), a line has been crossed. Despite the endless amount of befits he details-children will taste good, population goes down, families can profit, childbearing will no longer be a burden-it makes total, but it isn't fathomable. It seems crazy, but can't the same thing be said today? Glaring at today's American politicians, there are a plethora of instances where logic has outweighed morals. Trapping children in cages because it 'makes sense but not thinking about the trauma they may face; opening the country so quickly despite the thousands dying every day; saying empty phrases like black lives matter but not discussing the black lives that don't die in the hands of police. All these things make sense to politicians logically but lack morale. Though they're not as extreme what Swift's proposal, they follow the exact same guideline of lacking a moral compass. I adore Swift's proposal. Not because I partake in cannibalism and agree with slaughtering any living being, but because it shifts the focus on the higher-ups and demonstrates how monotone and heartless their policies sound. So next time you hear a proposal from a politician think to yourself: "I wonder if this proposal would taste as good as it sounds?". Question: In what way and to what extent can science and technology be used for good or evil?
As a society, we’ve established what can be classified as ‘good’ and as ‘evil’, and without evil, there is no such thing as good. If the question, “what would you describe someone who regularly donates to charity as?” was asked, the frequent response would be “a good person.” If the question, “what would you describe someone who has murdered a person?” was asked, the answer becomes blurry. Instead of a direct response, questions like “why did they kill?”, “were they attacked?”, “was the murder justified?” would resonate on the tongues of the questioned. Regardless of the inquiries, the answer almost always boils down to “they did a bad thing, they’re a sick, evil person”. But who are we, human beings, to decide who can be good or evil and when has this debatable question been taken to extreme lengths? Well, this is where science and technology come in. In the United States justice system, the combination of science and technology, two inherently 'good' things, can be interpreted as good or evil when we study the history of the electric chair: one of the few exceptions to a ‘good’ murder. Since its initial use in 1890, the electric chair’s usage has been a widespread debate across the nation. Despite your personal beliefs, the purpose of the electric chair can be deemed as 'good' in terms of ridding the earth of an ‘evil’ person. But the story shifts when we open our eyes and realize that the technology that is the electric chair, in layman's terms, is justified murder. Ironically enough, if we refer back to the question “what would you describe someone who has murdered a person?”, and analyze it in this situation, shouldn’t this technology be deemed as evil as well? What makes the electric chair the exception? Murder is murder. The electric chair was built for that specific purpose, so why do we, human beings, have such trouble classifying it as evil? The electric chair, along with other execution methods, give human beings too much power over one another, especially taking into consideration how personal beliefs can sway a jury into their decision of legally murdering an individual. Take George Stinney Jr. for example, the youngest person in America to be executed in the 20th century. In 1944, George Stinney Jr. was proven guilty of the murders of Betty June Binnicker, age 11, and Mary Emma Thames, age 8, by an all-white jury in a 10-minute-long deliberation. On June 16, 1944, the electric chair killed a young African American who did not get a fair trial. Of course, looking back, it's recognized that the electric chair was used out of prejudice, racism, and clearly pure evilness. However, at the time, it was seen as a form of justice and a form of good. The caricature of George Stinney Jr. as a disgusting, vile black man is what lead to his death. Racism lead to his death. The constant hyperbole of black men being angry, violent people is what lead to his death. The existence of the electric chair is an entire contradiction in and of itself: an execution tactic to kill murderers. Depending on where you stand on a case, the prosecutor or the defendant, you may recognize when the usage of the electric chair is out of good intentions or pure malice. You may see it as a form of justice, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. However, the question still remains: how can we justify something that’s meant for evil? |
AuthorHi! I'm La'Kennya Huggins and I'm currently a senior in high school. This blog is primarily for my college course. Archives
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