Loyalty: A word that used to have meaning in sports. Today, though, the concept of loyalty has been replaced by a disgusting emphasis on money.
There are the players that put their heart and soul into a team and still get cut. Realistically, these men are putting their health and safety on the line for their respective organizations, teammates and fans. Concussions and other football-related injuries in the National Football League (NFL) have ruined the lives of a number of athletes, and some have even taken their own lives as a result of the trauma. So for teams to not have loyalty to veteran players who have sacrificed their well-being for the game they love is simply wrong.
It makes logical and monetary sense to cut underperforming members of teams. These athletes did not follow through on their obligations, so the team should not have an obligation to them in return.
But there are many cut players who do not fall into this category. Champ Bailey, for example, played for the Denver Broncos for nine seasons between 2004 and 2013. He recorded more Pro Bowl selections than any other cornerback in NFL history with 12. Last season, he sustained a foot injury and could not play for most of the season. Still, he was and is an amazing player who puts his heart and soul into every competition. Bailey has put in his time and proven, season after season, that he can be trusted and counted on to make plays. He was the undisputed leader of the Broncos’ defense and made an impact every time he stepped on the field. And he was certainly loved by the Denver faithful.
But to save money, the Broncos cut the future Hall of Famer. There are plenty of men on that football team who could have been cut instead to put the team under the salary cap. Quite frankly, many of them deserve to be cut after Denver’s Super Bowl meltdown. Now, at 35 years old, other teams might not be willing to take a risk in signing him, especially after his recent injury.
Similarly, the Dallas Cowboys let go of DeMarcus Ware after eight seasons of service from 2005 to 2013, a career that included seven Pro Bowl selections and league-leading sack statistics. Again, there is no loyalty from the Cowboys to Ware.
It used to be that players would come in and play for one team their entire career. There was virtually no emphasis on money; now, loyalty means nothing to teams. It does not matter to them where the player goes next or if an athlete will ever play again.
Just a decade ago, a fan would be appalled that the Bears allowed a player like Julius Peppers to be picked up by the Packers. Forget winning — today, in this climate of money and power, loyalty is dead.
Juliet Suess is a senior ECLS major. She can be reached at suess@oxy.edu or on Twitter @WklyJSuess.
Sweaty and laughing, with hands callused from colliding with stucco walls and concrete slabs, undeclared Brandon Rodrigues (first-year) stands by the Gilman Fountain. He is joined by undeclared Emiliano Vargas (first-year) who is in the same condition as Rodrigues. What started as a five minute study break outside Stewart-Cleland Hall turned into a three-hour parkour session involving jumping off walls and doing backflips and handstands.
Rodrigues started practicing parkour as a first-year in high school at the recommendation of a friend. According to Rodrigues, parkour and free running are about getting from point A to point B as efficiently as possible with a strong element of liberated physicality.
“[Rodrigues’ friend] asked me to come out and train one day and I was hooked, ” Rodrigues said.
Vargas embraced the parkour culture when he met Rodrigues at the beginning of the school year. The two are now hoping to start a club on campus to encourage friends and peers to join their alternative adventures. While the official club is still in the works, Rodrigues and Vargas have started a Facebook page to form an unofficial group.
Parkour was originally thought up as a military discipline used for obstacle course training; nowadays, however, it has evolved into a recreational activity closely associated with free running.
“In general it is a good stress reliever. I find a lot of freedom doing free running in figuring out how your body moves and knowing your limits and then expanding your limits by getting better and stronger,” Rodrigues said.
On a typical excursion, or “free run,” Rodrigues and Vargas start in Sycamore Glen, sprint up the stairs to the walls by Emmons Health Center, spring and flip behind Haines Halland end at the Gilman Fountain. They seek out pieces of campus terrain to run, jump or flip, depending on who is watching.
Administrative personal communicated with Rodrigues and Vargasto ensure that they executed the practice of their hobby as safely as possible. Vargas explained that according to their discussions with the Intercultural Community Center, it is not against school policy to run across Occidental’s Spanish-tiled rooftops.
“Basically we can’t sue the school if we get injured because of what we’re doing. That’s all we need a waiver for,” Rodrigues said.
Vargas and Rodrigues practice parkour regularly and explain that they have had friends free run with them in the past. They jokingly acknowledged that their third roommate, undeclared Frank Hernandez (first-year), no longer joins them due to aprevious flipping accident.
“He’s on the bench for a while. He’s JV,” Vargas said.
Both emphasize that if and when they get more beginners involved, students can start on any level and take things slow. Although unrelated to Rodrigues and Vargas’s hobby in particular, assistant professor of English and Comparative Literary Studies James Ford III began casually teaching capoeira, a dance martial art, on campus at the beginning of the year. He too has embraced a “take it slow” mentality that has proven very successful.
“We always start with falling and rolling. They are the two main things you need to know before you can actually start doing stuff. That way you know how to save yourself if you do fall,” Rodrigues said.
To further encourage newcomers, Vargas and Rodrigues have booked sessions at Tempest Freerunning Academy, located south of Los Angeles in Hawthorne, which have padded walls and flooring. They noted that the safe environment is a great place for beginners to get their footing.
“Conquering your fears is a huge part of what we do. It’s really scary flipping off of stuff. But if you get it down then you feel really great about yourself,” Vargas said.
According to Rodrigues and Vargas, parkour creates a noncompetitive community that motivates individuals to exercise in a fun and exciting way. They believe intrigued students and faculty alike would not only gain insight into their personal health and physicality through practicing parkour. In addition, they hope to form relationships and a sense of trust they may not have otherwise developed.
“You don’t have to be great to start. You have to start to be great,” Rodrigues said.
Known and defined by his detailed set designs adorned with early 20th century trinkets and taxidermies, Wes Anderson elevates his already distinctive style to a new level in his latest film, “The Grand Budapest Hotel.”
Set in the imaginary central European country of Zubrowka in 1932, the film tells the story of the posh Grand Budapest hotel and its infamous manager, M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes). M. Gustav’s tale of murder, art theft and a chase around pseudo-Nazi occupied Europe represents the illustrious past of his hotel.
Anderson’s auteur is often defined by its fantastical sense of nostalgia. The theme of yearning for yesteryear extends past the set decor and costume to the narrative structure of the film. Part of the nostalgic feel comes from the fact that M. Gustav’s story is narrated in 1968 by the hotel’s new owner, Mr. Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) to a biographer (Jude Law) writing about the hotel’s history. M. Gustav, like the Grand Budapest itself, exists as a long-forgotten figure of the hotel’s extravagant history. The Grand Budapest of the’60s is a dilapidated version of the magnificently adorned hotel of the’30s. The powder pink and gold exterior of the ’30sdiminished to a dingy orange and the bustling sound of distinguished high-society guests in the lobby replaced by reverberations of silence.
“The Grand Budapest Hotel” alludes to political themes of the early Nazi occupation; Nazi skulls are reinterpreted as silver foxes and swastikas become lightning bolts. Prior to this film, the closest Anderson has come to politicizing the past beyond the grandeur of sentimental costumes and aesthetics is his reference to Noah and the biblical flood in his last film, “Moonrise Kingdom” (2012). The muted color palette, obsession with symmetry and allusions to the film as a theatrical show common of Anderson’s films allow the viewer to disappear into the fantasy worlds of his films. The fantastical aesthetics and stories of Anderson’s films present a sentimentality for places and things rather than political environments; they offer a naive longing for a fantastical and dream-like past. “The Grand Budapest Hotel” differs from the director’s previous works regarding incorporating political themes, as the audience is aided in understanding the political turmoil in Europe during the rise of the Nazi empire through the film’s aesthetic detachment from reality. The film’s intricate aesthetics are hypnotic and easily the most elaborate extension of Anderson’s artistic vision to date. The detail in the costumes, set design and history of the hotel itself present an equally compelling story to the film’s main plot. The film’s large budget allowed Anderson to present a previously inconceivable “Andersonian” spectacle. Some of the details in this film even seem to be self-referential to Anderson’s previous films, such as a cut-off finger hinting at “The Royal Tenenbaums.” These allusions to past works are either purposeful Easter eggs or simply products of the director’s neurotic and obsessive eye that focuseson the same thematic elements.
Avisual delight with a non conventional approach to political themes, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is just as much about Wes Anderson’s artistic auteur as it is about the Grand Budapest.
For a special treat, see “The Grand Budapest Hotel” at the Hollywood ArcLight, where the actual model of the Grand Budapest used in the film is on display in the lobby.
Although supplies for a sufficient trans-era journey are hard to come by, the Time Travel Mart in Echo Park covers all one needs to be transported as far back as the prehistoric age.A fresh dinosaur egg sells for $9.99. For life’s more recent regrets, one can purchase “five more minutes on your expired meter” for only $4.99. The small plastic jar contains a single quarter with the instructions, “Go back five minutes, insert quarter into traffic meter, smile at approaching parking enforcement officer. Not valid before 1796.”
The Time Travel Mart is neither just a gag shop nor is it amere tribute to past eras or crazy Angeleno delusion. Along with grants and donor funds, the store finances 826LA, whose tutoring, educational services are free to all students. The store front is a portal to the nonprofit tutoring and writing center for kids ages 6 to 18.
For the same low price as “five more minutes on your expired meter,” one can buy “The Correct Answer” for a variety of situations, with the same instructions to return to five minutes ago with the correct answer .The store carries everything from robot’s milk consisting of a glass jar filled with sugar to a mini Duraflame log for salvaged romance to actual relics of the past, like a ’90s slap bracelet. The store represents much more than profit; it is the first impression visitors have of 826LA and its position on a busy street in the community.
“We have a lot of different roles. We’re the face to the community for 826LA, we’re also a fully functioning store, in whicheverything is for sale that has a price tag,” store manager Lauren Rock said. “We also are kind of like a museum I feel. There’s always something to look at and something to read and it’s a fun place to bring people from out of town. It’s a fun place to visit, it’s not just your regular store that you’re going to go shopping in; you’re going to have an experience here too.”
The store draws in curious shoppers from the street, the Internet or word of mouth. Unless customers are familiar with the creator, author Dave Eggers, and recognize his publications displayed on the wall, nothing on the store’s exterior or interior hints at the tutoring center behind the door in the corner. The store clerk asks curious browsers what era they’re looking to travel to and points out a couple choice goods as their eyes flit around the innocuous shelves, searching for the final punchline. Eventually, the clerk reveals the premise, often to the delight of the customers. 826LA derives many of its volunteers from intrigued passersby.
“It’s become an important part of our model because of that, and I think that just having a sort of odd, unique space at the front of our building sets a nice tone for what we do here,” Echo Park location volunteer outreach and Support Assistant Laura Rosof said. “People walk into the store and they know that they’re some place different and special.”
The unusual facade complements 826LA’s mission. It provides ample material for students’ writing and re-brands the concept of tutoring. After passing through the small, gaudy yellow store, students enter a room with a vaulted ceiling and exposed beams, 20-foot high brick walls, and many solid, square wood tables and silver chairs with old intricate carpet underneath.
On one wall, a gallery of frames hold short poems or tidbits of wisdom such as, “If you eat too many Hot Cheetos one part of your stomach could melt.” The space looks like anything but a classroom. According to Rock, kids build confidence from entering this quirky space andby getting their writing published through the programs.
“It’s kind of like this magical third place; it’s not home, it’s not school, it’s like a kind of creative, safe space,” Rock said. “It shows them that we invite whimsy here.”
Psychology major Emily Fowler (senior) currently interns at 826LA after volunteering there last summer. She primarily helps during the day planning and executing programs for local elementary and middle school classes that come in on field trips. Students also attend 826LA after school for tutoring across all subjects. After finishing their homework, kids receive a prompt and practice their creative writing.
“We did a field trip last week where they ended up writing an ode to one of the pieces from the store, like the kids got to go pick an item from the store and write a poem about it, which was cute,” Fowler said.
826LA has gained popularity since its establishment in 2008. The organization now has a wait list and requires students to enroll in their workshops rather than drop in. Because they are saturated with students, Rock emphasized that they are always looking for volunteers to help achieve a one–to–one ratio of students to teachers in their programs.
Although 826 chapters with equally inventive store fronts exist in seven other cities around the country, L.A.’s locations, particularly capitalize on local creative minds and embrace the energy of the city. The advisory board includes big Hollywood names such as director Spike Jonze, musician Fiona Apple and producers J. J. Abrams and Judd Apatow. Rosof attributes their stars’ interest in 826LA and its mission to the common foundation of storytelling that drives both movies and writing.
“We don’t emphasize film with our programs but we do emphasize storytelling and expressing ideas; being able to express your thoughts through words. And I think that what gets a lot of those types of people excited is that we’re developing the next generation of storytellers,” Rosof said.
In the front corner of the Echo Park store, an installation commemorating the L.A. of the future and the past is the only section specifically referencing the greater area around 826LA. Although few products reference the organization’s setting, the time travel theme of L.A.’s chapters fits a city steeped in artifacts of previous generations but also undergoing significant gentrification and change.
“I feel like Los Angeles has a lot of time travel in it,” Rock said. “We’re right next to Angeleno Heights which has these beautiful Victorian homes, but then we also are this mecca of innovative technology.”
826LA personifies the liaison for students between these two sides of L.A. and the agent that ushers them toward all the possibilities that L.A. and their writing represent.
The last home console generation was the first to be in HD and the new technology allowed for more realistic designs. This renovation opened up a window for detail and art directions that really couldn’t be captured before. Games could more accurately capture emotions on characters faces, have detailed environments and use motion capture on very intricate movements.
In an attempt to be more realistic, shades of brown, grey, black and tan started plaguing the art direction in many video games. Games like “Call of Duty” and “Gears of War” could better portray desolate war-torn environments. There is beauty in the design of these games, but the market filled up quickly with similar styles.
The franchises that were once incredibly colorful and vibrant, in both art direction and narrative, changed to a more serious tone. They had the ability now to be more realistic, and it was selling. Rockstar games’ “Grand Theft Auto” (GTA), a once wacky franchise, went dark with 2008’s GTA IV. The color scheme, game-play and overall mood became far more serious. The humor remained, but the whole experience was far darker. Volition seized the opportunity as their “Saints Row” series went in the opposite direction, and it was a breath of fresh air. “Saints Row” (something that started as just another GTA clone), carved its own path. It progressively got more vibrant, fun and weird as games in the series were released. “Saints Row” re-kindled the explosive fun that GTA now kept in moderation. GTA remained a mega hit, but for many it wasn’t as enjoyable. This lull in GTA’s outrageousness allowed for “Saints Row” to more properly secure a niche in the market.
As the last console generation is fading away, many games are finding a balance of fun and seriousness. The most recent GTA V was placed in sunny Los Santos and brought far more vibrant colors and humor. “Saints Row” continues to perfect their insanity, adding more neon colors, super powers and dub-step guns to their most recent “Saints Row IV.” It was clear the realistic trend was slipping away.
Other series and many independent games in the last generation similarly went outside what seemed to be the norm for triple-A titles,delivering new, different ideas and art direction. Ubisoft Montreal’s “Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon,” a standalone downloadable title, delivers a neon colored, fun and ’80s themed original story with the engine of “Far Cry 3.” Dennation Games’ “Hotline Miami” similarly pushes the color palette to the max while slathering itself with pixellated gore.
It is nice to see the novelty of gritty realism wearing off. Gloomy colors, textures and moods are appropriate in some games, but it is just nice to see the overwhelming trend lean towards brighter colors and a overall happier experience. Color is more important than just eye candy. It has the power to change the mood of the game.
The new generation of gaming presents an opportunity. The graphical leap from the last gen consoles to this gen is far smaller than the previous one. Therefore the novelty of graphics, while still present, is far less prevalent in gaming. Graphics in games are not as important as the art direction, and the market is realizing this.
In the past five years or so, no band has captured my ears and heart quite like The Gaslight Anthem.
The blend of Springsteen-esque, melancholy storytelling combined with punk inspired instrumentals was impossible for me to resist. Yet despite my Herculean effort to introduce all of my friends to the joys of Brian Fallon and company, only one has spent any extensive time listening to their songs. At first I was profoundly hurt by the lack of interest I encountered at every turn. How could they not appreciate the earnest lyrics, finding meaning in every line about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss (important topics for most successful pop bands)? They were missing out on four albums and a handful of EPs worth of essential music, and it pained me to no end.
However, as time has passed, I came to accept that the rest of the musical morons I call my friends might not connect with The Gaslight Anthem the way that I had and at the end of the day, this might be a good thing for me. As Brian Fallon himself asks, “What can I keep for myself if I tell you my hell…What’s left for only you to take if I put too much blood on the page?”
Is there merit to keeping music that you have a strong personal connection with, or should you at least only share it sparingly? In my self-proclaimed expert opinion, the answer is: yes.
Certainly sharing music can be a positive experience and shouldn’t be completely ignored. It is a great way to build and strengthen friendships, grow a blog audience and find a community to belong to, whether online or in person. Passing along a mix CD, sharing a Youtube link on someone’s Facebook wall or placing a hot, fresh album in a Dropbox folder can be a satisfying, rewarding experience. It provides a catalyst for conversation about a new release, an opportunity to discover an artist or genre you have never heard of and a chance to get classic music that has been missing from your iTunes library.
However, there is something lost when you spread songs around too much, especially when you forge a strong, deeply personal connection with a particular artist’s work. When someone that you hold in esteem and respect their opinions tells you they do not like a song that has made you reminisce, cry, or stay up at night evaluating your life choices cuts deeper than listening to Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel.” Don’t worry, I won’t post any sad videos of abused animals, but I am fairly sure we all know that feeling. Many times, hearing a friend’s negative reaction to a favorite song can unintentionally downgrade the tune, and make it less likely that you will want to share any new music with them for awhile. This sensation is only worsened when you tell them about the emotions and thoughts you experienced, making that time you started crying in the Green Bean or Academic Commons seem even more trivial and ridiculous.
How do you remedy this unpleasant situation? For me, the best response is to keep the most important songs and artists to yourself, or at least only give an overview about why you think their music is the greatest thing you have ever heard, saving the intimate thoughts for trusted friends only. For instance, my desert island, all-time favorite song is Bruce Springsteen’s, “Racing In The Street.”
There is a long, complicated story as to why that tune will always make me emotional and reflective, but only a handful of people know the whole tale. For everyone else, they only hear how the instrumentals are expertly layered together, that it is some of The Boss’ strongest lyrics, and the somewhat lengthy explanation about the song’s status as a spiritual sequel to “Thunder Road.”
Yes, it reinforces exclusivity, but in this case, it can be a good thing.
In no way am I suggesting to internalize all your emotions, since that is typically only going to be self-destructive, but I am advocating selectivity about who to share some songs with. One of the greatest things about music is the myriad of ways it can affect us, and only sharing some experiences with others you already know feel the same way you do can strengthen the impact and importance of those songs.
In short, keep some songs for yourself.
Jack Butcher is a senior history major. He can be reached at butcher@oxy.edu or on Twitter @WklyJButcher.
Fittingly called “Little Penguins,” the tiniest penguins in the world measure up at a mere 13 inches tall and average around 2 pounds, calling the coasts of Australia and New Zealand their home.
Fact: These penguins are the cutest animals ever. (CC)
The worldwide population is estimated to be just one million Little Penguins. The biggest colony of Little Penguins lives on Phillip Island, just outside of Melbourne, Australia, which hosts 32,000 little birds that waddle from the ocean to the sand dunes every night in what is called the “Penguin Parade.” The colony only crosses the beach to the safety of the sand dunes at night, using the darkness to help them avoid attack from predators. The spectacle has become one of the main tourist attractions in Australia and draws thousands of spectators a year to watch the penguins make their nightly waddle up the beach.
While you’d think that these tiny birds couldn’t get cuter, the Penguin Foundation has come up with a brilliant solution to help aid penguin recovery after an oil spill.
When penguins affected by an oil spill are admitted to the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center at Phillip Island, they are usually covered in slick oil. To protect penguins and keep them from pruning their feathers, the Penguin Foundation called upon knitters worldwide to pick up their needles and create penguin jumpers, which prevent the penguins from poisoning themselves with toxins during their recovery and keep them cozy in fashionable wool.
The Foundation has been overwhelmed with donations after posting the pattern online – knitters in Germany alone have thus far donated over 40,000 jumpers. Worldwide support of this effort has allowed the Penguin Foundation to collect enough jumpers to clothe affected penguins for years to come, selling the most creative jumpers to raise money for rehabilitation costs.
I discovered this movement over Spring Break and have begun to design and knit a jumper of my own – a lovely hot pink number with turquoise fish stripes. I think it’ll bring out the penguin’s eyes.
Pink is the new black on Phillip Island. (Jill Goatcher)
If you are so inclined to start knitting a jumper to contribute to the cause, the pattern can be found here. They only take a few hours to make for experienced knitters, and for someone who has always wanted to knit, they are quite easy. Plus, there’s no greater motivation to finish a project when you know it’s going to help one of the world’s cutest animals.
Jill Goatcher is a senior politics major and marine biology minor. She can be reached at goatcher@oxy.edu or on Twitter @WklyJGoatcher.
Television has gotten dark. I am not the first person to make this observation, nor will I be the last. But I’ve recently started in on HBO’s widely acclaimed “True Detective,” the final nail in Western TV’s very bleak coffin. It is a well-made show, to be certain, but it’s also oppressively grim. We can’t seem to get enough of darkness, and I think I understand why.
First, let’s take a look at the current landscape. Somewhere around the time “Breaking Bad” violently assaulted the public consciousness, we – the viewing public – decided that “drama” meant “tonally dark.” Once everyone decided they wanted a piece of the antihero pie, the current state of American drama became inevitable. There’s “House of Cards,” “Breaking Bad,” “The Following,” “Hannibal,” the recently-cancelled “Dexter,” “The Walking Dead,” “Game of Thrones” and now “True Detective,” just to name a few. Even some comedies now have a twinge of grit to them, like the long-running “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”.
Television has made dalliances with the anti-hero before the rise of Heisenberg, but HBO seemed to be the only place for those characters. “The Sopranos,” “The Wire,” “Oz” – none of these shows are particularly upbeat. Now, we have a show where one of the main characters kills and eats people.
And we are to blame. Not “we” in the larger sense, like I said earlier. This time, when I say “we,” I refer Millennials: The coveted 18- to 24-year-old demographic is the reason Frank Underwood rose to power.
Before you tune out, I don’t think this correlation has anything to do with the regular criticisms levied at our generation. “Hannibal” doesn’t exist because we’re lazy or entitled, or any of the other things older adults call us. These shows are popular because our generation has redefined the water cooler.
“Watching the Super Bowl is like going on safari in the monoculture. Even if you couldn’t give less of a shit about football or whatever, turn on the Super Bowl. Our shared moments are rare, share the bullshit,” the late, great Ryan Davis once said.
With the diversification of media, there are so few things we experience as a whole culture. For a few years, if you mentioned a TV show offhand, you were more like to get quizzical stares than a genuine reaction.
Now, everyone wants to talk about shows like “House of Cards” and “Breaking Bad.” Even if you don’t actively watch either, it must have been nearly impossible to escape the season premiere of the former or the series finale of the latter. Streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime make catching up on these shows easy, and the ease of piracy means even anarchists can enjoy their favorite dramas.
Social media outlets like Twitter and Facebook have made it easier than ever to start a conversation. Use the right hashtag at the right time, and you could be discussing the implications of “that scene” from the season two premiere of “House of Cards.” But the social media aspect is a mere accelerant.
Millennials flock to their social media platform of choice to immediately voice an opinion not because of narcissism. It’s because they want aforementioned conversation since – for the most part – these shows are interesting to talk about. “True Detective” is thematically dense, its characters are well-established and it’s also a compelling murder mystery. Take your pick; any one of these aspects could lead to a worthwhile discussion.
Our generation doesn’t really want shows like “The Big Bang Theory” or “NCIS.” Older adults – the same people who write articles calling Millennials “entitled” – like those shows because they fill a void. They can laugh or be entertained without having to think too much. This is why “Community” so often struggles in the ratings. It is a show that rewards active viewing with some of the sharpest wit on TV right now.
Do you know which demographic is keeping “Community” alive? That’s right: 18- to 24-year-olds. A small group of Millennials watching a show can save it from cancellation. Sure, there are crossover hits like “Breaking Bad” that everyone seems to enjoy, but our demographic is the most coveted among advertisers. When a show becomes a hit with the Twitter and Facebook crowd, it keeps going.
Marketers want our advertising money, so when they see a trend amongst Millennials, networks begin to ape it. And the trend de jour? It is quality drama with more than a hint of darkness. That’s why “Hannibal” exists. Before this shift, executive producer Bryan Fuller would have never been able to execute his vision for the “Hannibal” that exists today.
Our generation has power over the airwaves, even if we don’t actively realize it. “Dexter” was cancelled as it started to decline, “Community” might just reach six seasons and movie, and “Breaking Bad” actually got to end in a satisfactory manner. Networks have noticed that we like good television, and have responded in kind. Sure, a couple bad shows like “The Walking Dead” have slipped through the cracks, but the best stuff on TV right now is genuinely some of the best television ever made.
Older adults may decry us for reasons I don’t feel like refuting in this particular article. But for everything your mom says about Millennials, keep this in mind: “Community” got to do an episode centered entirely around parallel timelines, and it was absolutely stellar. We did that. And in my book, that’s something to be proud of.
To paraphrase “True Detective,” old men have always complained about change…but old men die.
Mike Cosimano is a first-year psychology major. He can be reached at cosimanowhite@oxy.edu or on Twitter @WklyMCosimano.
Backdoor Science explores the scientific world and updates the Occidental community on all of its happenings. Each week we will bring you engaging stories behind scientific history and current events. Backdoor Science is Chris Discolo, Nick Thomas, Elya Shamskhou and Griffin Mead.
