Tag Archives: college

The Voice Of Our Generation

So, okay. Lena Dunham. That’s all the Internet talks about anymore. And mostly for stupid reasons. GIRLS is an enjoyable show. Sure, it’s got its flaws, but it always has some realistic depictions of a very particular group of people, all of whom I went to college with. But most of the debate around the show is — in my humble opinion — around all of the wrong issues (read: misogyny towards chubby exhibitionists). Let’s face it, Lena Dunham is hardly the first privileged white kid to leverage Mom & Dad’s wealth and success into her own career. I probably would have done the same thing, if I ever had the opportunity.

And then there’s Thought Catalog. I have plenty of friends who frequently for Thought Catalog, and almost every time I read something on that website (besides stuff by friends, obviously, because the whole point of this is that we’re all hypocrites) I find myself consumed by anger towards the whiney narcissism of my generation. Every post is all trying to be deep and profound and whoa I made this brilliant realizations about being 22 now that I’m older and wiser at 24 and shut up.

Except that every time I read Thought Catalog, I’m like “Man, I totally get this. This is totally spot on.” Which is probably why I’m so angry at it — because it, like GIRLS, is totally cliched, and reminds us all of how cliched we are ourselves.

So, long story longer, this week’s Five By Five Hundred post is all about that, except in some wacky stream-of-consciousness kind of a way (I mean, more than what I just wrote) because I have weird brain things.

(Also it now holds the record for our most popular post on 5×500! So, ya know, that’s cool)

“A Catalog Of Thoughts; Or, Sorry Lena Dunham, But Our Generation Already Has A Voice” on FiveByFiveHundred.com

I Am Become Ernest Hemingway, Writer of Booze

Tearing through my parents’ basement over Christmas break in search of several missing WARHAMMER pieces (shut up), I stumbled across a few notebooks from college. Still a bit high from the fun and hilarity of my MORTIFIED experience this past Saturday evening in Cambridge, I skimmed through the notebooks, placing certain moments back at specific times in my life. (there’s certainly a lot crap, but a bunch of great lines / idea gems in between the crap that maybe someday I’ll revisit in song)

One thing in particular that stuck out to me — pages I have been dying to rediscover since it happened — was a bit of writing I did in July 2006, my first summer spent living in Boston between my sophomore and junior years. 2006 in general was definitely a very significant transition year for me, and while some of that anxiety might slip through here, that’s not really the point. I remember the evening when I turned to my then-roommate, Layne, and said “Ya know, Layne, you hear about all these artists, songwriters, etc. with horrible, horrible addiction problems, but still somehow creating their best creative while completely obliterated. But I’ve never actually done that.” So naturally Layne, being the kind and considerate soul she was, walked directly into the kitchen and poured me ten shots of vodka in a line. I looked down at the counter and looked back at her, eyes wide with fear. “Go,” she demanded, and, well, I did, because Layne was just that kind of person that you could never down on, even when it was a terrible idea (because you knew that her worst ideas usually made the best stories).

So bam. 10 shots of vodka in a row, right down the hatch. No dinner. A quick chaser of Diet Coke, and I locked myself in the bedroom with a guitar and a notebook and a pen. I didn’t even turn the lights on; it felt more poetic that way (whatever man, I was 20), and there was enough light bleeding in through the window from the construction site next door. And I just went, pouring out my every thought in some strange semblance of verse.

Continue reading I Am Become Ernest Hemingway, Writer of Booze

It’s All In The Ears

So apparently there are some people out there who are absolutely disgusted by the sight of attached earlobes. (I assume that these are the same people that experience actual physical revulsion at the sound of the word “moist”) (you know who you are) Still, it got me thinking a bit about bigotry, and the features that people are born with that lead to discrimination.

Thus, instead of stooping to making fun of Jeph Loeb again, I decided to write a short fiction piece about a world in which those with attached earlobes suffer from the same kind of humiliation, discrimination, and hate as some of the more persecuted minority groups today. I guess what I’m trying to say is, attached earlobes is the new Black. I mean, not that — I don’t mean like — I’m not a racist, but — oh, forget it.

“Lobe Lobe Lobe” on FiveByFiveHundred.com

Freshman Weekend; or, Beer Beer Sex Shots Shots Shots Shot Puke WHOOPS

Here’s the thing: I’m 25 years old, just over 3 years out of college. I stay out late, I drink (and make) lots of beer, I work in the arts, and show up at my job most days in cut-off jean shorts (or “jorts,” if you will) and a t-shirt. I don’t feel that old — I’m not that old — and the idea of college doesn’t seem like it’s so far away. But biking from Harvard Square on Friday night, I discovered that college was indeed back in session, and that I have apparently become a jaded old man.

It was the first weekend of college for many freshmen at Boston’s countless universities. It was a beautiful night as well, so the frosh were out in droves, playing at adulthood by making lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of obnoxious (but incredibly fun) mistakes from which they will (one day) hopefully learn. “Freshmen Weekend,” as I like to call it, is not that day. My bike route brought me past Harvard, MIT, Boston University, Northeastern, and Wentworth University, as well as plenty of off-campus student abodes. You know those 13-year cicadas? It was kind of like that.

So mid-bike ride (I swear, it was totally safe), I recorded this poem, which I then fixed up when I got home. Enjoy!

“Freshmen Weekend” on FiveByFiveHundred.com

Emerson GOLD Council

I received a brief shout-out in this article from the Berkeley Beacon, my Alma Mater’s student-run newspaper, about the Emerson GOLD (Graduates Of the Last Decade, get it?) Council, with whom I’ve been working and meeting for the last month or so. It’s a new initiative, but there’s some exciting plans on the horizon for Emerson Alumni in each of our main networks.

Also, special thanks to Caitlin Collins for not making me sound like an idiot, and not publishing any of the incredibly-witty-but-terribly-inappropriate-and/or-incriminating things that I may or may not have said during our brief interview.

Go Lions!*

*Just kidding. No one cares about sports at Emerson College.**

**Apologies to all of you Emerson athletes out there. I think you’re fantastic people. I really do. So I don’t say this to insult you. I say this because it’s true.