A portion of you are familiar with Mr. Stephen T. Colbert, the infamous, infallible, aggressive, conservative-feigning fake news host from “The Colbert Report” from Comedy Central. A smaller portion of you know he announced a few months ago his presidential candidacy… for only the state of South Carolina. Unfortunately, he was allowed to run on neither the Democratic nor the Republican ticket. It appears that he made a critical mistake in his campaign; the solution, you ask? Appointing me campaign manager. Here’s what I bring to the table:
1. I am a South Carolina resident, so I’m familiar with his possible constituents.
2. I am in total agreement with the foremost plank of his platform—the extermination of bears.
3. I am a “political virgin.” Being almost 18, I have no skeletons in my closet. The only items that comprise my closet, in fact, are some jerseys, some jackets, and some old Limp Bizkit albums I refuse to keep in public view.
4. Mr. Colbert argues that both the media and reality have a liberal bias, but being a columnist for the Tryon Daily Bulletin, I could function as a media insider. Connie Chung on line one.
5. I am not the campaign manager for Jon Stewart.
6. I haven’t been jaded by the political system.
7. We can all take a page out of Millard Fillmore’s book, or one of the many books placed in the White House library which he started. If there are two things I’ve learned from our lucky 13th President, they are that Millard Fillmore is still indisputably the greatest presidential name and that making polarizing decisions that could even divide and dissolve your party should be avoided. With the politics of Millard Fillmore, we could have won.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Wu-Tang overload
Drew Millard, some of his friends from Chapel Thrill, and I went to see Wu-Tang Clan, a prominent, intellectual hip-hop group from Staten Island, in concert in Charlotte, and boy was it interesting.
After hitting up Phat Burrito, Drew, six friends, and I arrived around 7:35 p.m. somewhat near the front of the line to get into Amos’ Southend, the location of the concert. Unfortunately, it was absolutely frigid outside. We reasoned that the horrible weather and lack of warm clothes would be manageable since the doors were to open at 8 p.m. —wrong. The security guards announced that the joint wouldn’t open until 9, so we stood in the cold, being barraged with advertisements for rims and reminiscing how some of us had left our warm clothes in the van. After being patted down by the security guards, we were finally let in and head straight towards the merchandise to find some Wu-Wear. We then made a b-line for the stage to position ourselves three people back from the stage among the General Admission crowd. And then more waiting began. The opening act was a DJ infusing classic hip-hop songs, and whenever the song changed, the entire crowd would let out an “Oh!” as if they knew the song. Drew and I played along, although we knew only a few of the songs.
This went on, in fact, through 10:30 p.m. We stood in place, crowded by those around us, for an hour and a half, wondering where the Wu were. We had several theories, including they were watching the Giants playoff game backstage or watching old kung-fu movies, from which they derive their name. After anxiously looking backstage for a glimpse of the Wu, a door opened to the side, and in trotted the infamous Wu-Tang Clan, three hours late. Apparently, they had just arrived at almost 11:00. Although we had stood for between three or four hours, we found this too awesome to become upset. Twenty minutes later, the Wu-Tang trotted on-stage, members including the GZA/Genius, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, U-God, Masta Killa, and Cappadonna. The prominent RZA was not with them on this tour. They began the show with one of my favorite songs by them, “Bring Da Ruckus.” Shortly thereafter, the real crowd excitement began. People were constantly coming into contact with those around them as the entire crowd bounced up and down and shouted the lyrics. It was obvious that there were people there who had no knowledge of the concept of personal space, and I found it very difficult to even raise my arms to take a picture. This squash escalated to the point when I discovered other people’s hair in my mouth, a disgusting thought. Suddenly, a man was pushed forcibly into Drew and I, and a circle began to open right next to us. We turned to see a man receiving punches in the face from another man, both of them right next to us. After a few punches, the victim just turned and exited the crowd. From that moment on, I tried to make sure my elbows and arms being spastically thrown about weren’t mistaken for violent blows that could land me a trip to the hospital.
Everything about that concert, though, was awesome. There was a lot of audience excitement, and the Wu seemed to love it. Method Man, the most well-known member among teenagers, took control of the concert, and when it came time for him to do his solo song, creatively titled Method Man, he even did his trademark crowd walk: Instead of diving into the crowd and having them support his body, he placed his feet above the crowd and walked over them, with the arms of the fans supporting his feet. He also used his hand to grab the hands of audience members to balance himself, a role that Drew assumed when Method Man walked over him. As for me, when Method Man was standing directly in front of me yet above me, I foolishly turned my head to get a grasp of who large the crowd really was. The next thing I knew, Method’s foot landed right on top of my head and stayed there for a good three seconds. After balancing him on my head, I really began to “use my head,” so to speak, and used my hands to steady him.
From being sprayed with water by Method Man’s bottled spring water to witnessing a fight erupt right next to me, the concert was completely awesome. However, by the time the concert was about to end, I, as one of Drew’s friends put it, “was afraid of fainting from exhaustion and being trampled underfoot,” so it was a good time to end. Afterwards, Method Man invited the audience to attend their after-party at the Marriott hotel, but we decided to punt due to exhaustion and disorientation. As I write this article, my ears are still ringing from the loud sound, but I also got to leave the concert with a fond memory, a cool t-shirt, a sweet poster, and the sole of Method Man’s Air Force Ones forever imprinted on my skull.
After hitting up Phat Burrito, Drew, six friends, and I arrived around 7:35 p.m. somewhat near the front of the line to get into Amos’ Southend, the location of the concert. Unfortunately, it was absolutely frigid outside. We reasoned that the horrible weather and lack of warm clothes would be manageable since the doors were to open at 8 p.m. —wrong. The security guards announced that the joint wouldn’t open until 9, so we stood in the cold, being barraged with advertisements for rims and reminiscing how some of us had left our warm clothes in the van. After being patted down by the security guards, we were finally let in and head straight towards the merchandise to find some Wu-Wear. We then made a b-line for the stage to position ourselves three people back from the stage among the General Admission crowd. And then more waiting began. The opening act was a DJ infusing classic hip-hop songs, and whenever the song changed, the entire crowd would let out an “Oh!” as if they knew the song. Drew and I played along, although we knew only a few of the songs.
This went on, in fact, through 10:30 p.m. We stood in place, crowded by those around us, for an hour and a half, wondering where the Wu were. We had several theories, including they were watching the Giants playoff game backstage or watching old kung-fu movies, from which they derive their name. After anxiously looking backstage for a glimpse of the Wu, a door opened to the side, and in trotted the infamous Wu-Tang Clan, three hours late. Apparently, they had just arrived at almost 11:00. Although we had stood for between three or four hours, we found this too awesome to become upset. Twenty minutes later, the Wu-Tang trotted on-stage, members including the GZA/Genius, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, U-God, Masta Killa, and Cappadonna. The prominent RZA was not with them on this tour. They began the show with one of my favorite songs by them, “Bring Da Ruckus.” Shortly thereafter, the real crowd excitement began. People were constantly coming into contact with those around them as the entire crowd bounced up and down and shouted the lyrics. It was obvious that there were people there who had no knowledge of the concept of personal space, and I found it very difficult to even raise my arms to take a picture. This squash escalated to the point when I discovered other people’s hair in my mouth, a disgusting thought. Suddenly, a man was pushed forcibly into Drew and I, and a circle began to open right next to us. We turned to see a man receiving punches in the face from another man, both of them right next to us. After a few punches, the victim just turned and exited the crowd. From that moment on, I tried to make sure my elbows and arms being spastically thrown about weren’t mistaken for violent blows that could land me a trip to the hospital.
Everything about that concert, though, was awesome. There was a lot of audience excitement, and the Wu seemed to love it. Method Man, the most well-known member among teenagers, took control of the concert, and when it came time for him to do his solo song, creatively titled Method Man, he even did his trademark crowd walk: Instead of diving into the crowd and having them support his body, he placed his feet above the crowd and walked over them, with the arms of the fans supporting his feet. He also used his hand to grab the hands of audience members to balance himself, a role that Drew assumed when Method Man walked over him. As for me, when Method Man was standing directly in front of me yet above me, I foolishly turned my head to get a grasp of who large the crowd really was. The next thing I knew, Method’s foot landed right on top of my head and stayed there for a good three seconds. After balancing him on my head, I really began to “use my head,” so to speak, and used my hands to steady him.
From being sprayed with water by Method Man’s bottled spring water to witnessing a fight erupt right next to me, the concert was completely awesome. However, by the time the concert was about to end, I, as one of Drew’s friends put it, “was afraid of fainting from exhaustion and being trampled underfoot,” so it was a good time to end. Afterwards, Method Man invited the audience to attend their after-party at the Marriott hotel, but we decided to punt due to exhaustion and disorientation. As I write this article, my ears are still ringing from the loud sound, but I also got to leave the concert with a fond memory, a cool t-shirt, a sweet poster, and the sole of Method Man’s Air Force Ones forever imprinted on my skull.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
My ‘Second Life,’ part 2
Editor’s note: Hailing from Campobello, S.C., Russell Kooistra is a student at Polk County High School who fears Apple Corporation, Steve Jobs and hair metal. He can be complained to or complimented via email at player9@gmail.com.
I had several interesting experiences this week, especially towards the end.
I began in a deserted town that had been completely built by one “man.” The first thing I noticed when I arrived in his town was the man himself: He had purchased a light-up dance floor and appeared to be dancing all by himself. Finding this rather odd, I moved on to mingling about the town. He and I were the only ones there, and he didn’t make any attempt to IM me. Eventually, I stumbled upon a rather appealing toy: A miniature panda bear with a wheel on top. I right clicked on the object and clicked Sit here, and there I sat, on top of a walking panda bear, just marching in circles. Deciding that this wasn’t worthwhile whatsoever, I quickly made a trip to the local mall and took a picture on Santa’s lap (no joke), then I was off.
The new island that I teleported to was a relaxing spot where people loafed around on sofas and had picnics; however, I noticed an object that seemed to be a lunar lander. At first, I was hesitant about sitting in the space craft, anticipating that if I entered it, a hyperagent computer named HAL9000 would try to kill me. Reluctantly, I sat down on one of the seats and realized that it was actually a device for skydiving. I told the device to take me up 4000 meters, and away I went.
To my surprise, I didn’t land where I had previously sat but on an ocean floor. Apparently, characters can walk through oceans, no need for a staff. I decided to walk up to the nearest island, which my map told me had inhabitants. As I approached the new scenario, a pool with conventional sunning chairs appeared with a modern house in the background. What’s more is that there were about 30 people crowding the grounds, all dancing — my first Second Life party!
Eager to get this party started right, I held the sprint button down and dashed towards the bowl of hors d’œuvres, but an obstacle leapt into my path: It was the house owner who had started the party. To my misfortune, the party was invite-only, and I wasn’t invited. Imagine the rage of the partygoers who were just there keeping with the beat when they see an uninvited guest emerge from the nearby ocean. I sulked away and did the natural thing… I went next-door.
The adjacent house also bordered the ocean and was designed with a tiki bar in mind. The minute I sent foot onto the property, I realized that this was actually someone’s home — well, Second Life home. “What harm could be done?” I irrationally thought. I slipped into my swimming trunks and rested in the person’s hot tub. After some time, I began to ponder whether I should teleport to that scenario in which I can vote. In Second Life, of course. However, I was given a rude awakening — the home owner had arrived home! The chic-styled man (every woman and man, regardless of real appearance, ironically creates an attractive avatar of themselves) typed away furiously, ordering me off their property, or else I would go to jail. Panicked, I tried to fly away but hit the ceiling. I quickly clicked the “x” on the top right of my screen to close the game — forever, I decided.
It’s important to reflect on what I learned. I was first reminded of noble Harvard associate and philosopher Robert Nozick and his thought experiment.
Nozick’s imaginary machine would allow users to “plug into” it and be given virtual experiences, any experience desired, including perhaps life itself in its entirety. After playing Second Life, I realized that most of the experiences people would engage in would be completely inappropriate and maybe even what society would find immoral. Secondly, if I were to plug into his virtual machine to simulate an entire life, I would die from starvation in a week. Finally, if you do decide to test out Second Life, DO NOT GO TO MARUKU ISLAND. Avoid Maruku Island at all cost.
I had several interesting experiences this week, especially towards the end.
I began in a deserted town that had been completely built by one “man.” The first thing I noticed when I arrived in his town was the man himself: He had purchased a light-up dance floor and appeared to be dancing all by himself. Finding this rather odd, I moved on to mingling about the town. He and I were the only ones there, and he didn’t make any attempt to IM me. Eventually, I stumbled upon a rather appealing toy: A miniature panda bear with a wheel on top. I right clicked on the object and clicked Sit here, and there I sat, on top of a walking panda bear, just marching in circles. Deciding that this wasn’t worthwhile whatsoever, I quickly made a trip to the local mall and took a picture on Santa’s lap (no joke), then I was off.
The new island that I teleported to was a relaxing spot where people loafed around on sofas and had picnics; however, I noticed an object that seemed to be a lunar lander. At first, I was hesitant about sitting in the space craft, anticipating that if I entered it, a hyperagent computer named HAL9000 would try to kill me. Reluctantly, I sat down on one of the seats and realized that it was actually a device for skydiving. I told the device to take me up 4000 meters, and away I went.
To my surprise, I didn’t land where I had previously sat but on an ocean floor. Apparently, characters can walk through oceans, no need for a staff. I decided to walk up to the nearest island, which my map told me had inhabitants. As I approached the new scenario, a pool with conventional sunning chairs appeared with a modern house in the background. What’s more is that there were about 30 people crowding the grounds, all dancing — my first Second Life party!
Eager to get this party started right, I held the sprint button down and dashed towards the bowl of hors d’œuvres, but an obstacle leapt into my path: It was the house owner who had started the party. To my misfortune, the party was invite-only, and I wasn’t invited. Imagine the rage of the partygoers who were just there keeping with the beat when they see an uninvited guest emerge from the nearby ocean. I sulked away and did the natural thing… I went next-door.
The adjacent house also bordered the ocean and was designed with a tiki bar in mind. The minute I sent foot onto the property, I realized that this was actually someone’s home — well, Second Life home. “What harm could be done?” I irrationally thought. I slipped into my swimming trunks and rested in the person’s hot tub. After some time, I began to ponder whether I should teleport to that scenario in which I can vote. In Second Life, of course. However, I was given a rude awakening — the home owner had arrived home! The chic-styled man (every woman and man, regardless of real appearance, ironically creates an attractive avatar of themselves) typed away furiously, ordering me off their property, or else I would go to jail. Panicked, I tried to fly away but hit the ceiling. I quickly clicked the “x” on the top right of my screen to close the game — forever, I decided.
It’s important to reflect on what I learned. I was first reminded of noble Harvard associate and philosopher Robert Nozick and his thought experiment.
Nozick’s imaginary machine would allow users to “plug into” it and be given virtual experiences, any experience desired, including perhaps life itself in its entirety. After playing Second Life, I realized that most of the experiences people would engage in would be completely inappropriate and maybe even what society would find immoral. Secondly, if I were to plug into his virtual machine to simulate an entire life, I would die from starvation in a week. Finally, if you do decide to test out Second Life, DO NOT GO TO MARUKU ISLAND. Avoid Maruku Island at all cost.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
My ‘Second Life,’ part 1
Editor’s note: Hailing from Campobello, S.C., Russell Kooistra is a student at Polk County High School who fears Apple Corporation, Steve Jobs and hair metal. He can be complained to or complimented via email at player9@gmail.com.
Second Life is an online program that has been getting some attention recently. It’s actually a very creatively conceived “game”. In Second Life, abbreviated SL, you connect to the internet and a fake map is displayed. If you click anywhere on the map, you’ll be taken to that locale, a simulated environment. Once you get there, you are electronically depicted as a person with a fabricated name. SL is almost a social networking program. You can manage your looks or appearance and communicate with other people who also have a graphic representation of themselves. However, your graphic representation is not limited to your real-life appearance. People can be dressed as samurais if they wish. The whole point of the program is to earn fake money and use that fake money to do things you would do in real life, such as go to a club, get a job, shop, go on a cruise, or go exploring, all while making lots of e-friends — hence the name Second Life. You start yourself off and can always add to your money supply using real money that you give to the company that created the game, Linden Lab.
However, SL has come under criticism and been parodied, as well. According to one website, members of Second Life “need to get a first life.” After all, you’re taking the time to do things such as take a virtual cruise and simulate real life on your computer when you can, in fact, be doing such activities in reality. There have also been several lawsuits involving mature circumstances. When I say you can do anything in Second Life that you can do in real life, I mean just about anything.
So what’s this program that’s come under social fire really like? I created my own profile, Orr Uborstein (you must choose a fabricated last name, and the first name was inspired by Catch-22), to find out.
I started off on a tutorial island that taught me how to walk, run, drive a vehicle while steamrolling cyber rats, fly like Superman, chat with people, sit down, and change my appearance. I seemed to “fly” through these activities rather quickly and spent most of my time on Tutorial Island running around nude carrying nothing but a torch — to my surprise, you could legitimately take off all your clothes. I felt like I finally could understand what it would be like to live in an utterly Libertarian society, or even an Anarchist society. However, the whole point of the clothing option was to allow Residents to choose their fashion.
I was eager to finally explore my Second Life. I spent the first five to fifteen minutes hopping from environment to environment, expecting to find a surprised and embarrassed Drew Millard. Eventually, I arrived in a night club. The walls were purple, and a strobe light and club music were used to recreate a real club. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, and they would approach each other, and with a click of a button, would ask the other to dance. So there they sat in front of their monitors watching a simulated version of themselves dancing, while they themselves were passively watching their screen. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the money to acquire proper dress for the club, so nobody asked to “booty-dance” with me.
Second Life is an online program that has been getting some attention recently. It’s actually a very creatively conceived “game”. In Second Life, abbreviated SL, you connect to the internet and a fake map is displayed. If you click anywhere on the map, you’ll be taken to that locale, a simulated environment. Once you get there, you are electronically depicted as a person with a fabricated name. SL is almost a social networking program. You can manage your looks or appearance and communicate with other people who also have a graphic representation of themselves. However, your graphic representation is not limited to your real-life appearance. People can be dressed as samurais if they wish. The whole point of the program is to earn fake money and use that fake money to do things you would do in real life, such as go to a club, get a job, shop, go on a cruise, or go exploring, all while making lots of e-friends — hence the name Second Life. You start yourself off and can always add to your money supply using real money that you give to the company that created the game, Linden Lab.
However, SL has come under criticism and been parodied, as well. According to one website, members of Second Life “need to get a first life.” After all, you’re taking the time to do things such as take a virtual cruise and simulate real life on your computer when you can, in fact, be doing such activities in reality. There have also been several lawsuits involving mature circumstances. When I say you can do anything in Second Life that you can do in real life, I mean just about anything.
So what’s this program that’s come under social fire really like? I created my own profile, Orr Uborstein (you must choose a fabricated last name, and the first name was inspired by Catch-22), to find out.
I started off on a tutorial island that taught me how to walk, run, drive a vehicle while steamrolling cyber rats, fly like Superman, chat with people, sit down, and change my appearance. I seemed to “fly” through these activities rather quickly and spent most of my time on Tutorial Island running around nude carrying nothing but a torch — to my surprise, you could legitimately take off all your clothes. I felt like I finally could understand what it would be like to live in an utterly Libertarian society, or even an Anarchist society. However, the whole point of the clothing option was to allow Residents to choose their fashion.
I was eager to finally explore my Second Life. I spent the first five to fifteen minutes hopping from environment to environment, expecting to find a surprised and embarrassed Drew Millard. Eventually, I arrived in a night club. The walls were purple, and a strobe light and club music were used to recreate a real club. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, and they would approach each other, and with a click of a button, would ask the other to dance. So there they sat in front of their monitors watching a simulated version of themselves dancing, while they themselves were passively watching their screen. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the money to acquire proper dress for the club, so nobody asked to “booty-dance” with me.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Apply yourself
For most seniors, this is the time of year when you start doing the unthinkable — applying for college. For those of you who aren’t quite familiar with the process or how it works today (since you applied decades ago), I’ll give you a little run-down. If you’re a teenager planning on applying for college, maybe this will be helpful.
The purpose of the college application is to help a college get to know you. A paradox exists, however: How can a college get to know you in 500 words or less?
1. Basic Information
Applying for college starts off with basic information: Street address, telephone. Eventually, it will ask who your parents and siblings are, whether or not they attended college, and what they got degrees in. There are several reasons for this: First, they want to know what your home life is like and your background. Secondly, and maybe surprisingly, they want to see exactly who your family is. Your parents could be legacies, meaning they went to that school, which means you have a better chance of getting in. Why?... Because the family over time is more likely to donate future children and future money (in the form of tuition, but especially donations and endowments.) Also, they want to see if your family is, in fact, famous and rich. If they see Father: Gene Simmons (lead singer of ‘80s and ‘90s rock band KISS), they know you have money and will be likely to be giving large donations and be able to pay your tuition, and if you are famous yourself, they will be able to boast about how you went there. Yale University admitted George W. Bush because of his father, and now they boast they’ve taught the last four presidents if you count Bush “Jr.” twice.
2. The Transcript
Universities say the first thing they look at on an application is the transcript. When looking at the transcript, they check what courses you’ve taken and the level of difficulty of those courses. Most colleges look for students who are going to challenge themselves, so taking Honors, AP, and IB courses are fairly important. Standardized test scores, such as the SAT, ACT, and AP tests don’t decide whether or not you’re accepted, but they certainly help.
3. The Essays
The most talked about portion of the application is the essays, hands down. Colleges tend to ask questions involving why you want to go to that school, what do you do for the pure enjoyment, which one of their departments do you admire most, what media do you enjoy (music, movies, etc.), and I have even seen an essay question asking you to somehow incorporate a giant yellow container of mustard into a story. Admissions committees, unless at specific denominational colleges, surprisingly don’t want to read a long essay about Jesus’ teachings, but if your faith plays a huge part in your life, including that may be important. What the committees want to hear is whether or not you have a personality and what that is (a strong leader, humorous), what you know about the university that could display your research and interest in that school, and whether or not you’ll take full advantage of the opportunities they present you, and all of this information needs to be portrayed in a concise manner.
4. The Extracurriculars
Selective schools also want to see a list of activities you’ve participated in during your high school career. They want to see if you have a passion or interest, an ability to manage your time by juggling activities and schoolwork, and, once again, whether or not you will take advantage of the opportunities they present you. Important activities may include athletics, clubs, student council, article-writing for the local newspaper, youth group, and community service. Polk County High School is a small school that provides a great collaborative environment as opposed to a cutthroat environment found at other schools. At these certain schools, the line between passion and desire often becomes confused with trying to impress application readers. Instead of doing community service because they want to help others in the community, students at these highly-competitive schools travel to India and Mexico to help starving children for a few months just so they can put it on their college résumé. These are the same kids who pay large amounts of money to have an application counselor tell them how to write their essays and who ask the school to add an advanced placement course for Physical Education.
5. Recommendations
Finally, teachers and guidance counselors (and Duke has an option where anybody can write one, even a 5-year-old) are asked to write letters of recommendation. Colleges don’t necessarily want to read only about how smart the person is — everybody else applying is smart. They do, however, want to see the student’s personality, whether it’s hard-working, humorous, likeable, creative, etc. and if that student does a good job of inspiring classmates and teachers.
If you’re a student reading this, and if you’re also applying to college, I wish you the best of adventures filling out these applications. Don’t procrastinate, get them finished, but do a thorough job. You’ll feel great once they’ve been mailed out. Most colleges are altruistic and just want to accept a handful of kids who they think are the most fit for their school and will be successful in that environment. However, the top prestigious like Harvard want to increase their rejection rate every year to improve their US News Best Colleges ranking—so make yourself stand out as a leader. Don’t sell yourself short. Best of wishes.
The purpose of the college application is to help a college get to know you. A paradox exists, however: How can a college get to know you in 500 words or less?
1. Basic Information
Applying for college starts off with basic information: Street address, telephone. Eventually, it will ask who your parents and siblings are, whether or not they attended college, and what they got degrees in. There are several reasons for this: First, they want to know what your home life is like and your background. Secondly, and maybe surprisingly, they want to see exactly who your family is. Your parents could be legacies, meaning they went to that school, which means you have a better chance of getting in. Why?... Because the family over time is more likely to donate future children and future money (in the form of tuition, but especially donations and endowments.) Also, they want to see if your family is, in fact, famous and rich. If they see Father: Gene Simmons (lead singer of ‘80s and ‘90s rock band KISS), they know you have money and will be likely to be giving large donations and be able to pay your tuition, and if you are famous yourself, they will be able to boast about how you went there. Yale University admitted George W. Bush because of his father, and now they boast they’ve taught the last four presidents if you count Bush “Jr.” twice.
2. The Transcript
Universities say the first thing they look at on an application is the transcript. When looking at the transcript, they check what courses you’ve taken and the level of difficulty of those courses. Most colleges look for students who are going to challenge themselves, so taking Honors, AP, and IB courses are fairly important. Standardized test scores, such as the SAT, ACT, and AP tests don’t decide whether or not you’re accepted, but they certainly help.
3. The Essays
The most talked about portion of the application is the essays, hands down. Colleges tend to ask questions involving why you want to go to that school, what do you do for the pure enjoyment, which one of their departments do you admire most, what media do you enjoy (music, movies, etc.), and I have even seen an essay question asking you to somehow incorporate a giant yellow container of mustard into a story. Admissions committees, unless at specific denominational colleges, surprisingly don’t want to read a long essay about Jesus’ teachings, but if your faith plays a huge part in your life, including that may be important. What the committees want to hear is whether or not you have a personality and what that is (a strong leader, humorous), what you know about the university that could display your research and interest in that school, and whether or not you’ll take full advantage of the opportunities they present you, and all of this information needs to be portrayed in a concise manner.
4. The Extracurriculars
Selective schools also want to see a list of activities you’ve participated in during your high school career. They want to see if you have a passion or interest, an ability to manage your time by juggling activities and schoolwork, and, once again, whether or not you will take advantage of the opportunities they present you. Important activities may include athletics, clubs, student council, article-writing for the local newspaper, youth group, and community service. Polk County High School is a small school that provides a great collaborative environment as opposed to a cutthroat environment found at other schools. At these certain schools, the line between passion and desire often becomes confused with trying to impress application readers. Instead of doing community service because they want to help others in the community, students at these highly-competitive schools travel to India and Mexico to help starving children for a few months just so they can put it on their college résumé. These are the same kids who pay large amounts of money to have an application counselor tell them how to write their essays and who ask the school to add an advanced placement course for Physical Education.
5. Recommendations
Finally, teachers and guidance counselors (and Duke has an option where anybody can write one, even a 5-year-old) are asked to write letters of recommendation. Colleges don’t necessarily want to read only about how smart the person is — everybody else applying is smart. They do, however, want to see the student’s personality, whether it’s hard-working, humorous, likeable, creative, etc. and if that student does a good job of inspiring classmates and teachers.
If you’re a student reading this, and if you’re also applying to college, I wish you the best of adventures filling out these applications. Don’t procrastinate, get them finished, but do a thorough job. You’ll feel great once they’ve been mailed out. Most colleges are altruistic and just want to accept a handful of kids who they think are the most fit for their school and will be successful in that environment. However, the top prestigious like Harvard want to increase their rejection rate every year to improve their US News Best Colleges ranking—so make yourself stand out as a leader. Don’t sell yourself short. Best of wishes.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
A few good men
For one of my classes at high school, I was searching the history channel’s website on This Day in History, this day being Oct. 4. One of the events immediately distinguished itself from the others because it was seemingly insignificant. On October 4, 1861, President Abraham Lincoln watched a balloon “ascend” into the sky.
Surprisingly, this makes me really wonder, “How do historians differentiate between significant and insignificant? Why are some presidents nationally recognized while others are unheard of?”
My friends, I’d like to take the next few minutes to recount two worthy stories of presidents you may not have even heard of.
The majority of society can recall Abraham Lincoln’s mode of death, his assassin, the play he was watching, and even the nerdiest members of society can recall the phrase John Wilkes Booth uttered as he shot the back of Lincoln’s head. Some people can even tell you the ensuing period was called “Reconstruction.” However, one thing nobody remembers is Andrew Johnson, the president directly after Lincoln who came to one of Lincoln’s inaugurations drunk (he was Lincoln’s vice president). Andrew Johnson is hands-down the funniest president we’ve ever had and ever will have, and here’s why. Despite being a Republican himself, he was constantly bickering with the Radical Republicans in Congress. Everything they sent towards him, he vetoed, vetoed, and vetoed some more. After ticking as many people in his party off as much as possible, the House of Representatives attempted to impeach Johnson; however, their reasons for impeachment was merely a 19th Century version of “10 Things I Hate About You.” In order to keep Johnson from fiddling with members of his cabinet, Congress passed the Tenure of Office Act, bypassing Johnson’s veto, of course. Less than a year later, Johnson deliberately fired Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Johnson was impeached.
To quote the famous historian Arthur Schlesinger, “Millard Fillmore is the most awesome thing to hit Earth since Whitesnake and Lynyrd Skynyrd.”
His story dates all the way back to his grandfather, who was stranded during the French and Indian War. In order to survive, his grandfather ate everything in sight, eventually leading to the consumption of his own jacket. Millard Fillmore himself seems like the type of person onto which mediocrity was thrust. Like Johnson, Fillmore’s entry into the Oval Office was also a mistake — he was vice president to Zachary Taylor, who died of gastroenteritis, and so Millard Fillmore rode into the White House on a wave of diarrhea. He came from very modest backgrounds in the middle of nowhere New York. Apprenticed to a fuller, he quit when he couldn’t stand to see his “master” mistreat a turkey. He was later apprenticed to a judge after discovering his love for law, but the judge discontinued their connection when Fillmore let a few clients slip by without fully paying certain taxes. While having his own partnership outside Buffalo, New York, he was picked up by a political machine — the Anti-Masonic Party. He followed his mentor into the Whig Party, on which he eventually got onto Zachary Taylor’s ballot. Although Fillmore didn’t do anything to unite the country, his rise to power is certainly a good story.
Surprisingly, this makes me really wonder, “How do historians differentiate between significant and insignificant? Why are some presidents nationally recognized while others are unheard of?”
My friends, I’d like to take the next few minutes to recount two worthy stories of presidents you may not have even heard of.
The majority of society can recall Abraham Lincoln’s mode of death, his assassin, the play he was watching, and even the nerdiest members of society can recall the phrase John Wilkes Booth uttered as he shot the back of Lincoln’s head. Some people can even tell you the ensuing period was called “Reconstruction.” However, one thing nobody remembers is Andrew Johnson, the president directly after Lincoln who came to one of Lincoln’s inaugurations drunk (he was Lincoln’s vice president). Andrew Johnson is hands-down the funniest president we’ve ever had and ever will have, and here’s why. Despite being a Republican himself, he was constantly bickering with the Radical Republicans in Congress. Everything they sent towards him, he vetoed, vetoed, and vetoed some more. After ticking as many people in his party off as much as possible, the House of Representatives attempted to impeach Johnson; however, their reasons for impeachment was merely a 19th Century version of “10 Things I Hate About You.” In order to keep Johnson from fiddling with members of his cabinet, Congress passed the Tenure of Office Act, bypassing Johnson’s veto, of course. Less than a year later, Johnson deliberately fired Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Johnson was impeached.
To quote the famous historian Arthur Schlesinger, “Millard Fillmore is the most awesome thing to hit Earth since Whitesnake and Lynyrd Skynyrd.”
His story dates all the way back to his grandfather, who was stranded during the French and Indian War. In order to survive, his grandfather ate everything in sight, eventually leading to the consumption of his own jacket. Millard Fillmore himself seems like the type of person onto which mediocrity was thrust. Like Johnson, Fillmore’s entry into the Oval Office was also a mistake — he was vice president to Zachary Taylor, who died of gastroenteritis, and so Millard Fillmore rode into the White House on a wave of diarrhea. He came from very modest backgrounds in the middle of nowhere New York. Apprenticed to a fuller, he quit when he couldn’t stand to see his “master” mistreat a turkey. He was later apprenticed to a judge after discovering his love for law, but the judge discontinued their connection when Fillmore let a few clients slip by without fully paying certain taxes. While having his own partnership outside Buffalo, New York, he was picked up by a political machine — the Anti-Masonic Party. He followed his mentor into the Whig Party, on which he eventually got onto Zachary Taylor’s ballot. Although Fillmore didn’t do anything to unite the country, his rise to power is certainly a good story.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
iPhony
Editor’s note: Hailing from Campobello, S.C., Russell Kooistra is a student at Polk County High School who fears Apple Corporation, Steve Jobs and hair metal.
He can be complained to or complimented via email at player9@gmail.com.
The iPhone, another product of Steve Jobs, is the most-generally-wanted-by-18-year-olds thing since the right to vote. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this epic failure, the iPhone is a communication device where the communication part takes a back seat.
It combines the ability to browse the World Wide Web, storage for pictures and other media, an intermittent ability to communicate, and perhaps a salt shaker. Unlike real phones, the iPhone doesn’t have a pad of buttons that you can press angrily when you get no signal on it; instead, Apple decided to add man’s worst enemy, the touch screen.
Although nothing is good or bad until you think it so, I definitely think touch screens are annoyingly dysfunctional and inconsistent.
Furthermore, Apple has signed some sort of contract with AT&T in which if you purchase an iPhone, AT&T must be your network/provider. AT&T, unlike touch screens, is consistent — consistently the worst service provider in the nation every year with fewer bars in more places. Jeff Byrd and I were sitting in the Tryon Daily Bulletin office contemplating the meaning of life when we began to wonder, “Does AT&T even have a tower in the Tryon area to give residents the AT&T service?” However, the iPhone remains to be on every teenager’s wish list…
This really makes me speculate why someone would even want a phone that costs so much because it is a phone yet does not receive the phone service. Furthermore, what drives teenagers to care so much about their phones?
Most of the time, teenagers are replying back and forth during class via Text Messaging “Wutz ^?”, “Nuthin u?” “Nuthin wut class r u in?” “idk I’m 2 busy txting” and other meaningless conversations.
I can see the desire to quickly contact a friend on the road, during an emergency, or to see whether or not they want to get food before the game—I can see a need for the cell phone, but how do teenagers differentiate between good phones and bad phones?
Perhaps it’s the marketing and advertising companies designing sleek phones that make teenagers feel the need to buy a pink RAZR despite its lack of utility. Watching a vague cell phone commercial, I heard a daughter remark in utmost admiration for her new cell, “Oooo, it’s so small.” So? Doesn’t that mean it has less RAM to store ringtones and some of those other necessities that go with cell phones?
I don’t have any sweet ringtones, so when my phone went off in class once, my classmates derided me when they heard the naïve Joy to the World polyphonic ring.
My point is that we’re definitely a branded nation, and this applies to cell phones as well, especially when teenagers are driven to purchase phones that include cool features and a hot design instead of actual function.
We should take a step back and realize, as is the case of the iPhone, that there are many cool features, but perhaps the actual purpose of the phone becomes unreliable. For once, we could become unbranded.
However, right now, I’m a bit hungry, and I think it’s time for a trip to Taco Bell to grab some Fourthmeal.
He can be complained to or complimented via email at player9@gmail.com.
The iPhone, another product of Steve Jobs, is the most-generally-wanted-by-18-year-olds thing since the right to vote. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this epic failure, the iPhone is a communication device where the communication part takes a back seat.
It combines the ability to browse the World Wide Web, storage for pictures and other media, an intermittent ability to communicate, and perhaps a salt shaker. Unlike real phones, the iPhone doesn’t have a pad of buttons that you can press angrily when you get no signal on it; instead, Apple decided to add man’s worst enemy, the touch screen.
Although nothing is good or bad until you think it so, I definitely think touch screens are annoyingly dysfunctional and inconsistent.
Furthermore, Apple has signed some sort of contract with AT&T in which if you purchase an iPhone, AT&T must be your network/provider. AT&T, unlike touch screens, is consistent — consistently the worst service provider in the nation every year with fewer bars in more places. Jeff Byrd and I were sitting in the Tryon Daily Bulletin office contemplating the meaning of life when we began to wonder, “Does AT&T even have a tower in the Tryon area to give residents the AT&T service?” However, the iPhone remains to be on every teenager’s wish list…
This really makes me speculate why someone would even want a phone that costs so much because it is a phone yet does not receive the phone service. Furthermore, what drives teenagers to care so much about their phones?
Most of the time, teenagers are replying back and forth during class via Text Messaging “Wutz ^?”, “Nuthin u?” “Nuthin wut class r u in?” “idk I’m 2 busy txting” and other meaningless conversations.
I can see the desire to quickly contact a friend on the road, during an emergency, or to see whether or not they want to get food before the game—I can see a need for the cell phone, but how do teenagers differentiate between good phones and bad phones?
Perhaps it’s the marketing and advertising companies designing sleek phones that make teenagers feel the need to buy a pink RAZR despite its lack of utility. Watching a vague cell phone commercial, I heard a daughter remark in utmost admiration for her new cell, “Oooo, it’s so small.” So? Doesn’t that mean it has less RAM to store ringtones and some of those other necessities that go with cell phones?
I don’t have any sweet ringtones, so when my phone went off in class once, my classmates derided me when they heard the naïve Joy to the World polyphonic ring.
My point is that we’re definitely a branded nation, and this applies to cell phones as well, especially when teenagers are driven to purchase phones that include cool features and a hot design instead of actual function.
We should take a step back and realize, as is the case of the iPhone, that there are many cool features, but perhaps the actual purpose of the phone becomes unreliable. For once, we could become unbranded.
However, right now, I’m a bit hungry, and I think it’s time for a trip to Taco Bell to grab some Fourthmeal.
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