"The Grapes of Wrath" is an American made epic that chronicles the Joad Family as they set their sights out west towards the land of opportunity. As one of John Steinbeck's most well-known, and debatably best works of fiction, "The Grapes of Wrath" stands on it's own as a masterpiece that depicts not only the lives of those awe-struck citizens that paved the way into the Great Depression, but also the culture and imminent peril that had swept across our Great Nation during those times.
After reading any work of fiction, once that last page has been turned and the narrative has come to some sort of conclusion, the reader should be left with something. It's not necessarily anything quantifiable, and it certainly has nothing to do with an absence of anything (time, energy, brain-cells, etc.), but it leaves you with something like a scar. Certain readings leave the skinned-knees scar, a little redness but for the most part it will subside, other books however, like "The Grapes of Wrath," leave you physically altered. This sounds terrible at first, but I assure you just the opposite. When I finished this book I was introduced to what it means to be hungry, to be desperate, and to cling onto nothing but hope, because no matter what you own or who you answer to, no one can take away your hope for a better life.
If you have not done so, I urge you to pick up "The Grapes of Wrath," (can be found at your local bookstore, online, or in every high-school and secondary education facility across the nation). Here's an interesting tidbit for your next trivia night: "The Grapes of Wrath" gets it title from the "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," and the title itself is mentioned in text in a later chapter:
"And in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage." - John Steinbeck
While in route to a local cross country ski course, a friend told me the secret to recruiting folks for outdoor recreational
pursuits. It largely involved a certain level of convenience provided. He
brought up a fundamental truth regarding human consciousness. He talked about the difference between commitment and
going, the dissonance in following through with your beliefs, and
basically the difference between “the walk” and “the talk.”
Specifically we talked about how easy it is to answer the
question “do you want to go camping?" (or any recreational pursuit). Nine times out of ten, from those who find joy from these activities, the answer will be "yes, of course." The answer however, is completely different then the action. To actual take that step out the door is a much larger and real commitment then agreeing or talking about taking that step. That is where the issue of convenience comes in.
By the time we had made it to the ski course and were pulling on our boots, my buddy explained the process of providing convenience so no one can pull the "weary-of-work" alarm. He said you have to pull up on their doorstep, have the bags and equipment tucked neatly into the backseat, and breakfast in hand. Make it as easy as possible for people to comply. He made a good point, and I'm sure to this day he understands that the concept of convenience stretches well across the human paradigm.
The thought really occurred to me as I walked around the University of Iowa's campus for 40+ minutes with a read-over newspaper in hand and looking for a recycling bin. I eventually located one strategically located underneath a printer, but I wondered how many people (including myself on a tighter schedule) would take the time to seek out the proper reciprocal for their papers, plastics, metals, and cardboards? It's another issue of convenience. Another issue of the taking the path of least resistance. Very few people (at least in Iowa City) are opposed to Recycling, yet the number of people that are "pro-recycling" don't translate into volume saved or post-consumer turnover. And of course it can be applied farther then properly placed recycling bins.
So the question that the environmental engineers, advocates, screwballs, and accountants should be asking is how can we make sustainability convenient for people? How can we make people want to drive less, to consume less, and to dispose less? New ideas are out there and progress is being made, single-stream recycling is making conserving more convenient, but the window is still wide-open for opportunity. And whether or not the climate is truly changing, it is clear to see the culture and mindset towards common-day practices are.
In conjunction with Youtube, an editing team, and 80,000 potential director's; a remarkable movie has come into creation. "Life in a Day" is a movie that shows simply what it claims, life in day. July 24th, 2010 to be exact. The concept is that on this particular day thousands of people were instructed to video tape their daily lives while answering a few simple questions such as what are you doing, what is in your pockets, and what do you fear? Cameras were even shipped to third world countries to assure a fair representation of the entire world. And after editing over 4,500 hrs of video, a brilliant project emerged.
This kind of project represents two things: first it is a fantastic representation of the technologic culture we live in and secondly, that no matter who you are, what you are, or where you are; there are millions of people going through the exact same daily struggle as yourself. Never before have we been able to connect on such a global scale, to see the differences between cultures, and to simultaneously be united by them.
Undoubtedly over the last 10 years we have made a severe leap in technology. Now more than ever can we share ideas, thoughts, and anything else that canvasses the art of civilization. As a blooming member of the Facebook generation and at the beginning of an era that forgoes home phones for cell phones, it is clear to see that the sails that once fostered the voices of our time have been taken down and replaced with motors. Nothing is more apparent in the matter then the current state of the music industry.
The linear progression of how music has been distributed can seem easy to distinguish. When radio towers first popped up, music as an industry really took off. Record sales and corporations devoted to providing records rose from the ground and over-shadowed nearly everything you listened to. Records were made, distribution was tracked, money was made, and the American public tapped their toes along to the tune. As the emergence of the world wide web came into play, the music industry suddenly got a new face lift.
Napster suddenly took advantage of the seemingly fire-like quality that the internet seems to inhabit, the ability it has to spread information quickly with a few thousands strokes of kindling generated from user interest, to suddenly upturn how we thought about music. Suddenly the listeners were in charge again, they didn't have to read the reviews or shop at the department stores for music, they could click and enjoy uninterrupted, unfiltered music with the click of a mouse. And although Record Industries and a handful of music makers (see Metallica vs. Napster 2001) hated the transition, it was a glorious step for the listener.
Somewhere along the way, or perhaps inherently intertwined from the beginning, a severe problem came along with the collision between art and profit-making. After board-meetings, audience testing, and mass production, certain musical performers started writing music for the charts, and when you begin to write for the #1 spot, you write for no one. An ability to please is different than an ability to communicate, to share ideas, and to paint a canvass that reflects personal meaning or self-sacrifice. It's not just the music industry either, you can see the paint-by-numbers effect in every sequel of a once original movie, in the seventh season of any long-running sitcom, or brain-washed authors writing mysteries without any true mystery behind them.
But back to music. In my opinion and with clear exceptions, the greatest albums produced by most any current band seem to be the ones most early in their career. The reason behind this I suppose is because at the time of recording, these blossoming instrumentalist were artist. They were wide-eyed and dreaming of the stars, they invested personal feeling and consciousness to every note, every lyric, and every single bit of ambition. They dreamed of the money and the fame, but hadn't gotten their first real taste of the forbidden fruit. And then they take off, propel among the stars, and begin writing for everyone (and no one in particular).
With the ability to now download, rip, zip and unzip music, the novelty of creating music is forced to return to the idealized innocence those young-songwriters once had. Suddenly they can begin to write music not for everyone, and especially not for the record companies dastardly intentions, but instead write songs for you and me, the fans, and more importantly while untainted by corporate greed, can write songs for themselves. This will surely crop out many song-writers who prefer to pay the checks and the ones who truly fantasize not about expressing themselves but instead about owning a hot-tub for every floor of their multi-story mansion, and what it will leave us, the listeners, will be truly in our greatest interest, it will leave us with artists.
-B.L.
Perhaps I have fantasized the man too much, but ideally what I want is music artists to embody the soul and power of Bill Withers. Through the rumored discrepancies he has had with his two record companies, the attention he received through popular culture, and most importantly the music he makes, I have concluded in my mind that Bill Withers is the man and he would surely be at the fore-front of the fight against record companies. So please enjoy...
"I write and sing about whatever I am able to understand or feel. I feel that it is healthier to look out at the world through a window than through a mirror. Otherwise all you'll see is yourself and whatever is behind you." -B.W.
With below freezing temperatures and crowded buses, students have once again flooded the streets of Iowa City to begin the first day of the new semester. School starting is always bitter-sweet, and after taking the last semester to complete an internship, I had forgotten the busy schedule involved with being a college student.
I can't complain to much however, the busy curricular and extra-curricular lifestyle is unquestionably missed by those who no longer live it. This semester also happens to be my last before graduation; so sudden plans to squeeze all that I can get out of it have come to surface and as of now it's a waiting game to see how everything will turn out.
Tentative plans and things on the radar include:
2nd Annual "Get Belayed on Valentine's Day" Climbing Competition
Midwest Outdoor Leadership Conference
3rd Annual Polar Plunge including inaugural Polar Beer Olympics
Spring Beak?!
Ice Silo and Cross Country Skiing
General Tom-Foolery
And Many More!
Alas among all these fun things (of which I plan on doing none alone) I must remind myself that their are still classes to attend and tests to ace. Ideas are always out their for adventures and I hope to hear them.Come join me, let's do something fun, and as always; enjoy the weather.
Just as you start to figure it out, Iowa pulls a fast one on you. After having multiple days of sunny skies and 50 degree fall weather, the Iowa morning awoke in a Winter mode. As the evening ran darker throughout the day before, a cold wind that had been circulating, but not striking, finally gained enough momentum to bring in the snow flurries. Now shovels are being dragged across sidewalks, and brake lights are more common then the stop-lights that now radiate in a cup of snow. The weather forecast had predicted it, but based on their past misplaced judgments, it was a snowy surprise.
It's a contrasting feeling between the short but welcomed false summer of the last couple of weeks and the new ice-fort I have awoken to. Let me assure you, the thermometer at my place is never above 62 degrees and every temperature drop is noticed. I had been slightly sun-burnt from Iowa January a few days ago and now I feel the need to adorn the winter gear a la Randy from the "Christmas Story." -->
Iowans almost have a sick pride in our radical weather jumps. Like the stereotypical image of the Iowa farmers talking about rain on the front porch, some natives, myself included, get a sense of excitement over drastic weather changes.
And it's not just Iowa Natives, its most Mid-Westerners. We all not only take the weather in strides, we relish in the changing forecasts and the gambling weathermen and women. It may be looking to deeply into a situation that could be labeled "just how it is," but perhaps the variable Bingo game that Mid-Westerners play each year with the weather is attributable to the Mid-West personality. The same personality that is so keenly portrayed as rural and corn-fed in a caricature sense.
While it may be true that we are corn-fed, much of the denser parts of Iowa is not farmland, and the personality that I am referring to is beyond occupation. Mid-Westerners (in general) are always nice enough for conversation, sharp enough for dialogue, and are always able to roll alongside any situation. And it may be the snow packed to closely to my window, but I believe that those personality traits are linked to the weather.
Mid-Westerners can and have dealt with a lot of wild weather conditions. And rarely we have any say in it. Alongside 50 degree weather in January we have seen rain that freezes upon impact, blazing summer heat that burns the bottom of rubber running shoes, tornadoes that rip the red paint off of barn-doors, biblical sized floods, and of course more snow then what we know to do with. And when the dust finally settles, we all marvel at the impeccable force nature has dealt to us.
We know that value of hard-work as we shovel our cars out of five feet of fresh snow, we understand the alertness that comes with an approaching thunderstorm, and most importantly we deal with it. And we deal with it a touch of eloquence I might add. We ski through snow-covered streets and battle the heat with cold-drinks and fresh food, and our complaints are always cast aside against revelry and appreciation. Appreciation for the fact that we can not only handle the weather that defines our region, but we embrace the obstacles to the point that it begins to define our very lives.
See ya' 2011, it's been good. Another year under the belt. And what better way to spend the night then amongst friends at a festively decorated shindig. We all gathered and ate delicious food and home-aid cocktails while the music flowed and the party began to pick up. People stood around talking about the past, celebrating the present, and of course holding cheers for the future.
I managed to sneak a video-camera to the party and ask a few questions through out the night. I enjoyed listening to all the honest responses, the quiet murmurs, and the R-Rated commentary. And although as the night grew longer and the speech more slurred, sobering truths lie behind every message. Whether it is coming home for the first time, finding someone you care for, or finding pride within yourself, it is clear that 2012 will be a good year.
