Wednesday, November 19, 2008

NYU Admittance a Growing Problem

(Rooters - Wednesday) A growing epidemic among young people has the nation in a tizzy. With each passing September, it appears that an increasing number of teenagers are falling victim to New York University Admittance. The New York City college, which has claimed the lives of millions of young men and what are thought to be, young women, was founded sometime ago by a man who wanted to create a school where “students could think outside the box, embrace their differences from the rest of society, and use it as an excuse to act completely weird and alienating.”

Studies show that even experimentation with one NYU summer class can lead to full time admission, and a subsequent downward spiral. Even more studies show that while these problems are thought to be most rampant with inner city youth, the primary victims have been upper-middle class whites. (Inner city youth could not afford the tuition, nor would be likely to get accepted due to a weak resume).

“Do they really think it’s cool?” asks Cheryl Bloom, a local parent. “I blame the rappers who make it look glamorous! The way they’re allowed to follow their career goals so specifically. It’s sick. You hate to see that happen to a young person.”

A common reason for NYU Admittance (NYUA) seems to be peer pressure, explains Doctor of Psychology Wilfred Alberts. “They see all their favorite celebrities becoming NYU students and they follow suit. These so-called ‘idols’ are supposed to be setting an example [gosh darn it]!”

“Why are these young people applying so willingly? It’s hard to say”, claims another Doctor of Psychology Robert Watkins, “Some may call it a desperate cry for attention. Not me though; I just find it annoying.” Indeed, many students who fall victim to NYUA were outcasts throughout their adolescence, and are now relishing an opportunity to be “different for the sake of being different” (from NYU Mission Statement).

Symptoms of NYU admission include regular donning of flannel, dark rimmed glasses, occasional ironic haircuts, Converse sneakers, and if facially capable, an unnecessary lumberjack beard. Those affected are often seen wearing scarves regardless of the outdoor temperatures. Also, victims are notorious for unusually lousy taste. “Arcade Fire? Garden State? Falafel? These are not the favorites of a clear-thinking human” expresses Professor of Thought, Dr. Steven Barrows.

After some initial experimentation with classes that at first sounded interesting, students soon begin to get completely lost in their specific, predetermined concentration. In many instances, these young people become driven and crippled by their craving for concentrated education beyond the point of recognition. Additionally, with every passing year, more and more NYU Students are lost to graduation, which in turn frees up room for more incoming students. The brutal cycle, seemingly, never ends.

Though times look grim, steps have been taken to spread NYU Admittance Awareness (NYUAA). Efforts are being made to rid high schools of NYU admissions information, though the problem is simply too vast. As recent as last week, Bobby Ryvell and Samuel King, both Juniors at North Brunswick High School, were suspended for reading an NYU information pamphlet together in the boys’ bathroom. Rumors were that the boys had been pushing the pamphlet on younger students, many of whom had a full year to go before thinking about collegiate education. Additionally, more cities are opening up voluntary rehab centers referred to as “The Military”.

The media is also doing its part. Aging rocker Neil Young’s recently released album Goodbye Old Paint is a tribute to a dear friend he lost to NYU in the seventies. “He just got so pretentious and annoying” claims Young, “I just really didn’t want to hang out with him anymore.” Furthermore, recently released motion picture Requiem for an NYU Student is the latest attempt to bring the harsh realities of NYUA to the forefront of society. The film follows the path of four high school graduates who, despite their better judgment, apply, are accepted, and attend NYU. One of the film’s most harrowing scenes in when the female lead is shown listening to a Sufjan Stevens album while studying for her final in Great 19th Century Agrarian Sculptors Who Wore Hats During Dusk Hours 102. It’s currently at 34% on Rotten Tomatoes.

Amidst all the corruption, there is indeed a ray of hope. For instance, certain NYU applicants do not get accepted, and go on to lead mainstream lives. Additionally, some NYU graduates appear to have turned out fine, as English Major Tom Livingston (NYU class of ‘07) claims, “I had a great experience. I’m actually going to grad school at Harvard in the fall to get my masters, so yeah, can’t complain.” However, a close friend of Livingston declares that indeed he had become “kind of a douche”.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

What If Jesse Was Right?

The N train has not been running on weekends at all or during the week from midnight to five AM. The reason is track construction. These changes will last well into December, and have forced Astoria residents such as myself to become very acquainted with the dreaded 7 Train, which makes about as many public appearances as a Barack Obama flaw. With that much construction work, the newly refurbished N Train better have audio-animatronics a la Pirates of the Caribbean upon its return. What the hell else could take so long? Nevertheless, I found myself eventually sitting on a packed 7 Train at 12:30 tonight. And so begins our tale…

“God bless you, ladies and gentlemen”. When you hear someone enter a 7 Train and open with that line, you know you’re in for a treat. Indeed, at the Grand Central stop, a suited, bearded (white, you know you were wondering) man named Jesse entered the train and launched into a tirade that would have made Jesus proud, if Jesus liked loud obnoxious guys. Jesse preached the tale to the unsuspecting 7 Train passengers of his rise from the depths of sin. Apparently, he previously was a thief, a liar, and dated multiple married women. The latter part I can only imagine must have taken place when he was handsomer. However, he discovered Jesus and yadda yadda yadda we’ve all heard it. Needless to say, he loves his new life so much now that he screams on 7 Trains at midnight.

During his speech, and in between Bible slaps, Jesse made a point to describe to the rest of us what exactly would happen whence we are facing final judgment by God. Evidently, and I must have missed this chapter of the Bible, God is going to scoff at me because I didn’t heed the word of his messenger Jesse, who apparently he had especially sent. Now, I’ve heard a lot of delightfully nutty religious-types preach their word, but Jesse displayed some huge cajones with that statement. To state that God especially sent you on this run, like an intern going to Starbucks, is a very ballsy move, and one I imagine the big man would not be too fond of if word got around. We all shared a good laugh. Crazy people are funny.

But then I got to thinking…what if Jesse’s claims are accurate? Hell, none of us are any wiser than he is on the subject, when you think about it. For all I know, when I meet my maker and I’m looking at God in whatever form he believes will make me the most comfortable (I’m hoping for Jodie Foster’s father from Contact), I will be so pissed if he’s like “Well Michael, you’ve been pretty alright. You didn’t rob any banks, that’s a plus. Also, you don’t listen to that much rap music. However, that one day on the 7 Train when my right hand Jesse was speaking, you did have your iPod on. You drowned out his good word with ‘Sunken Treasure’ by Wilco – that’s not even that good of a song. Boom – Hell!” And Jesse’ll just be standing there on God’s shoulder, laughing and slapping his Bible in victory.

God, if you’re reading this (and I can only assume you are the “Anonymous” that keeps leaving comments), please don’t continue to use Jesse as your messenger. He’s a tool, and his beard just doesn’t work. Also, he tried to guilt us into taking him seriously, and that’s not representative of the God I thought I knew. Anyway, give it some though and continue leaving those comments.

That being said, I was a bit let down when Jesse departed by telling us all to stop by the Times Square Church so we can all be just like him. Really, Jesse? You were the Naked Cowboy of religion? I cannot help but feel slightly led on but who knows, I may stop by the Times Square Church one of these days to wish Jesse luck with his career as the only white guy who’s ever yelled at a subway car full of people for any reason. Also, I might suggest that next time, he at least be selling Peanut M&M’s to support his rec basketball team.

So yeah, the N Train needs to come back. Now.

First "Realty" Show Set to Premier

A slight typo has led to the linchpin of TBS’s new Monday night programming lineup, Estate of Love. After a poorly written memo demanding a “reality show” was delivered to the head of programming at the network, preparations were underway to give teen starlet Monisha Butterphly (My New Mommy’s Dance Party, OMG Hot Boys!, Schindler’s List 2: Dance Party) a new hit series. Unfortunately, due to the near unintelligible handwriting of the company’s CEO, the program transformed from Butterphly living in a Los Angeles house with nine irritable fashion bloggers to Butterphly working in a real estate office in Jackson, Mississippi.

“While it’s not exactly what I had intended, I remain confident that Estate of Love will be a rousing success” claimed TBS CEO Brad Billington, “though I swear my memo definitely said ‘reality’, not ‘realty’. It was pretty clear. Even if not, I would think the former would have been implied. Whatever, it’s fine.”

Estate of Love, despite its unorthodox origins, has the industry abuzz and online gossip e-zines cooking with rumors of the juicy dramatics that are likely to unfold. The nation cannot wait to see how Butterphly interacts with the remaining staff of Jackson Realty, which opened in 1986. As of the episodes shot so far, Butterphly is currently serving in an entry level administrative position, due to her lack of experience in the field. But there’s no telling how far she’ll climb as the season progresses.

“She probably won’t climb very far, our staff is very small. Anyone in a prominent position has been here for the better part of two decades and are in their late-forties to early-fifties” claims manager of Jackson Realty, Barney Jackson, “She’s only working here because TBS made us fire poor Beatrice Perry, who was set to retire in three weeks and whose cat just passed away.”

Though the program has a fairly bland setting, viewers and fans of Butterphly’s delightful bigotry will not be disappointed by her reported occasional break room antics. And just wait until you see Butterphly adjust to using a fax machine, in a hilarious fish-out-of-water scenario.

“If people watch this, I will be surprised and content”, chimes Billington, “…but will have lost all faith in humanity.”

Estate of Love premiers Monday at 9 on TBS, right after House of Payne and right before House of Payne.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Get Out (Something Other Than) The Vote

Tomorrow, our country will be determining how our next four (or eight [or twelve, if our government listens to my strongly worded letter]) years will be handled. John McCain or Barack Obama will be crowned king of democracy in mere hours, and the everyone of us is encouraged to get out there and vote. However, I will not be voting, and I encourage you to do the same. Ladies and gentlemen, over the past few years, I have learned first hand that your vote simply does not matter. Any suggestion of America getting to "choose" who wins any sort of election is merely fodder to make us feel important and sell Pepsi Cola products. I for one am putting my foot down.

What possible experience could have put me off from having my voice heard, you ask? A look at my voting track record of the past few years should clear up any confusion.

2005 (first year I was allowed to text)-

My vote: Bo Bice
The Winner: Karrie Underwood


My vote: Katharine McPhee
The Winner: Taylor Hicks


My vote: Blake Lewis
The Winner: Jordan Sparks


My vote: David Archeluta
The winner: David Cook

So excuse me if I'm a little discouraged. I encourage each and every one of you to follow my lead. There's no point to voting, so why kid yourself? Regardless of what Seacrest tells you, the only thing America's choosing is how to get punked. Because no matter how badly you want Clay to win, Rubin will always pull it out in the end.