Incarcerated Scarfaces

With the final blog being written currently, it's hard to really concentrate. Studying, writing, living, partying, etc. There is a lot to do in such a short time span. It's exciting, yet draining. This semester has really been a learning experience. Maybe college ain't so bad after all.

No one on the corner has swagger like us

Community Service is extremely fun. I am working at the Alumni Association, 20 hours in total. It serves as both my U101 comm. service and my court ordered comm. service. I enjoy sitting here and stuffing enveloped, watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It drains me, and it sucks to have this during finals week. Luckily the people I work with are extremely nice, and I've even submitted my resume to the Alumni Assoc. for an internship. Hopefully this comes to fruition, as I am in desperate need for a job. I don't really think this type of community service is easy to learn from, as I feel I haven't learned my lesson. I sit here and benefit USC, not the city, not the country, no one. Every other part of getting arrested has worked though.

The police always try and aim flame at us/So I don't mind when a pig's brain splattah's

The prison system in Columbia, SC is screwed. The illegal and inhumane things they do shocked even me, and I went in anticipating the full wrath of the Bible-belt police depot. After seeing Richland County walk away with $500,000 a year in underage drinking tickets and another $300,000 in simple possession charges, I've grown sick to my stomach. Entering dorms and locked areas without consent, illegal search and seizures, bias and prejudice, and conscience-less decisions make the top of the list for how the police forces operate down here.
Check it. First, they use overly aggressive force, as you wake up with bruises all up and down your arms and handcuff gashes, not to mention a concussion (albeit self-inflicted, the concussion that is). Then, while you're in there, they treat you like a crack peddler or a rapist, puting you in cells with crack dealers who just recently violated parole via assault with a deadly weapon. Yeah, that is safe. Not to mention half the people there are still high, rolling, drunk, or zooted from the night before, so it can get fairly interesting. Then you are treated as if you possess IQ of about 73, that part was enjoyable. The water deprevation was fun, too. Screaming in a cell, covered in vomit from when you passed out, just pleading for water. Oh, no, water is not coming. Then when you realize you have a concussion, you ask to go back to the nurse. That will not happen, however. Nope, you're in it for the long haul. Fuck the police.

Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm

After all of these drug and alcohol classes, I have to ask myself, what did I learn? Through and through, my answer within led me to one answer: how to get away with it. If anything, the court and judicial systems have simultaneously created a better criminal, aware of all the laws, regulations, loop holes, and habits in the system. I've learned how to avoid situations, whether by avoiding illicit behaviors or just being smart and avoiding the omnipresent RAs. I've learned how to skew police officers. I've learned how to spot officers of the laws. It is ridiculous. Instead of addressing the issues, these classes have offered me nothing. Nothing. I end up lecturing the instructors or leaders about how they are wrong. I agree with them, but their facts and notions make me sick. If 0 people die of marijuana related deaths per year in the USA, versus the countless to alcohol and tobacco, then how come both the aforementioned habits/addictions are legal after a certain age? Because the system has its head on backwards and doesn't care about the college student, but rather the college student's money (not that he has much). That is what I've learned through this whole ordeal. In the words of Public Enemy: "Fight the Power."

Me and you have never been even like Biggie Smalls' eyes

Blogging gives these new age cyber-terrorists way too much power. The distribution of information has been skewed to a degree where any libel or slander instantly becomes truth. What ever happened to civil rights? Protection from verbal or written abuse fell through at the beginning of the blogging nation. People are guilty before they are proven innocent, words are misconstrued, or stories are blown out of proportion. This goes to the bully mentality, much like police officers, these bloggers are just people who didn't get past high school. It really is funny, though, coming from someone who has a blod. Whatever. Just a thought.

Swingin' Swords Like Shinobi

The first semester is nearly over and Thanksgiving is upon us, only to be followed by the consumer-driven holiday of "Black Friday" which leads to Christmas. That is it. End of the first semester that has had its ups and downs. It is hard to believe that in all of this, I have yet to truly see the reason why I came down here. Granted, this does not imply that I am not attending the University next semester, but it does give me some precautions and hesitations for next year. Unless the alcohol crack-down subsides or marijuana becomes decriminalized (both of which are as likely as me staying out of trouble the next 3.5 years), then college life at USC will never be what it should. The learning experiences of college should include the real life confrontation of drugs and alcohol (which will never happen, and we wonder why we have such high dependency percentages?). Up here in the north, especially in MA where marijuana has been decriminalized, you will see less crime, less gangs, and even a distribution of wealth. Studies have proven that with the legalization/decriminalization of earth-grown herbs or even the lowering of alcohol's age requirement that people are more aware of the risks behind these mind altering entities. "Hoods" and other lower class establishments will be forced to look elsewhere for crime as the main source of their income will now be exported to the local college students (just watch what will happen to Springfield, MA, one of the worst cities in America, now that the herb has been decriminalized up to ounce). That said, moderation and conservation is always a safe model to follow. Kids in the UK or Italy or any other EU countries have such low alcoholism rates and kids don't drink just to get drunk. In Amsterdam, marijuana is so casual that police officials will light a spliff with local kids. But even these kids are not burnouts like American conservatives are so concerned about. All of this will be for naught, as words from a college student fall on deaf ears.

Man made beer, God made marijuana. Who do you trust?

Born with an intent to spit slick sentences with sick penmanship

Although the trip to the station was shadowed by the return of my brother in arms, I still managed to take in as much as I could. I learned, first off, that working with television is not something that I want to do. I wasn't built for fame or the high pressure world of television, I was built to contort with words, confuse with paradoxes, and lie with no conscience. All of that to say that I was built to be a back ground lobbyist or a corporate spokesman, making oil spills in Alaska look like the reinstatement of the Garden of Eden. I also learned that if I were to get into this field, I would want to be in the producing end. If anything, I'd want to be in music or movies, not television. I wouldn't mind representing labels and studios, although that trip would be even more difficult than trying to carry a simple television station.
My outlook on televisions stations did change, as my perspective was one of awe. That quickly changed to an alternative view of simplicity. Only two sets to record off of? Re-airing shows in a local area? Unimpressive in my eyes. My visions are on a slightly grandiose scale, call it arrogant if you will.
I did learn an important aspect from this trip that I will carry with me forever. You have to keep ahead. You have to always be at the top of your game. It is essential to be on the cutting edge, whether it is technologically or skill-wise. If you sleep on your game for five seconds, you'll be put out for the season or for your career (sorry for the sports analogy). To give myself a "leg up" in this ever changing world, I'll have to try and give myself a multi-faceted arsenal of experience, whether it be writing skills, producing experience, or technological know-how. The easiest way to do this? Keep up on news going around the world, go to class, and be perceptive.
Overall, the trip did not change my views on my major, it just made me realize what I did not want to do. It gave me a sick motivation to strive harder so I don't have to settle on a local TV station. Reach for the stars if your going to reach for anything.

We were somwhere near Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold...

Some may recognize this quote from the movie "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" where Johnny Depp made his first impression on me, while others may recognize this quote from the book "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" where Hunter S. Thompson made his first impression on me. Either way you slice it, this quote has had its influence on me, whether by book or movie, or by author or actor. Either way, it involves Fear and Loathing in or around Las Vegas, and it involves drug use and the drug culture (mainly around the time period of the 1970s, albeit the virtues and mentalities are still much alive and prevelant in today's society). As I sit here bored and comtemplaiting whether or not I should start my "Why Journalism?" paper, I'm reminded of why exactly I chose this field to work in.
Did I choose it because it is entirely easy to bullshit, much like this blog? Perhaps.
Did I choose it because every fiber of my being leans towards writing? Maybe.
Did I choose it because the likes of media influences such as Thompson or "Jerry McGuire"? Possibly.
Every question relevant; every answer ambiguous.
I guess that is why I chose journalism. It is a degree of uncertainty and insanity. No matter what field of mass communication one is involved in, one is still involved with the bullshit that surrounds people. Following them around, asking questions, when usually people have their heads half-way to nowhere and the ones that are smart enough and contain enough common sense to asnwer questions are so blown out on pain killers that it honestly doesn't matter anymore. Thompson had it right: "Getting hold of the drugs had been no problem, but the car and the tape recorder were not easy things to round up at 6:30 on a Friday afternoon in Hollywood."
The hysteria and ludicrous notions that surround these fields of study are so blurred with hard facts that almost anything can be published, almost anything can be said. When it all boils down, though, the question you really have to ask yourself is "was it worth it?" In most cases it is yes, in some cases it is no, although it may be a mixed bag of emotional nonresponse.
Is journalism worth it? More specifically, is Public Relations worth it? I don't know yet, but by the paths blazed forth by those before me, the role models in my mind, it is. The Hunter S. Thompson's, the Johnny Depp's, the Drew Rosenhaus's, the Matt Sosnick's, the fictional characters of Nick Naylor and Jerry McGuire, the Rush Limbaugh's, whoever. The list is endless. But the flip side is that you could end up, or should I say I could end up like some pinhead in a cubicle making a modest sum of money but having no fun in life.
That is why I brought up Thompson and "Fear and Loathing", as sobriety makes the world run...downhill. Tom Robbins summed up life in a nutshell when he said "Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature." Amen to that Mr. Robbins. I'm not saying lets all become heroin addicts, lets all go smoke crack with homeless people, or lets all go try meth for once in our damned lives. I'm saying that if you're not going to have fun with what you are going to do, then you better not do it. I'm saying I'd rather die than go do something I'd rather not be doing. If I have to use some sort of illicit drug to take the edge off while I'm doing that, so be it. The double-helix model of DNA was partially discovered thanks to that wonderful drug acid, many novels were written thanks to alcohol and marijuana, many poems can be accredited to opium, and numerous technological innovations have been devoloped thanks to abstract thoughts that cannot be contained within the logical phallacies which is the realm in which we think. We all know Native Americans passed around the peace pipe and they thought of the most elaborate religious symbols that run true to this day. The Latin Americans knew that cocaine and chocolate come from the same source, both of which led to the utmost forms of happiness.
All of this to say: I want to be in the field of media and writing to live like Hunter S. Thompson. Make money, be abstract, and damn well exist to be one of the coolest and callous people on the face of the planet. We can all coexist on drugs, which is an obscure idea and one that most of white America holds to be sacrilige, however true it may be. America wants us to be what they viewed Thompson: "The idea that two heroin pushers in a white Cadillac convertible would be dragging up and down the Strip, abusing total strangers at stoplights..." And Hunter even said it at the conclusion: "The idea...was prima facie absurd. Not even Sonny Liston ever got that far out of control."

Carolinian Creed

As a Carolinian...

I will practice
personal and academic integrity;

I will respect
the dignity of all persons;

I will respect
the rights and property of others;

I will discourage
bigotry, while striving to learn from
differences in people, ideas and opinions;

I will demonstrate
concern for others, their feelings, and their need for
conditions which support their work and development.

Allegiance to these ideals requires each Carolinian
to refrain from and discourage behaviors which threaten
the freedom and respect every individual deserves.
-Carolinian Creed (http://www.sa.sc.edu/CREED/)

The Carolinian Creed is much like any other creed, which generally includes a list of do's and do not's. This is usually presented in a fashion that is articulate and verbally picturesque. When you get down the bare bones of USC's creed, it says the following: I will not cheat, I will respect everyone, and I will not be an asshole. That is essentially what the Creed says to me. If you would like to be more specific, you can define cheating, define political correctness, and define the lines of being an asshole. It all just boils down to those three main points.
However, the aspect that I struggle with most is the bigotry portion. I am a HUGE bigot in some people's minds. I am a fiscal conservative by political nature, so I really don't tolerate the typical bleeding heart liberal. I make racist remarks (although I am not a racist, I discriminate equally), I have no sympathies for the gay community, and I honestly could care less about what most people think. The general population is not that smart, so I tend to keep what they say out of my mind. I am open-minded, however. I do listen to criticism when it comes from a reliable source. Being here at USC and being around political correctness, my ways are sure to change.
In contrast, the aspect that I view as a strength is my respect for other people's property. I wouldn't want my stuff stolen, so I generally adhere to that social taboo. That's not to say that if some rich kid flaunts his new 16 gb iPod Touch that his daddy just bought him after he lost his first when, that I will not take it (we all know that kid). Obviously a joke, but that aside, I truly would not want my possessions to be touched or trashed and I treat others with the same respect.
Apart from these two examples, I would say that the other bylaws of the creed are fairly reasonable and self-explanatory. Academic honesty is a no-brainer. Providing a learning and comforting environment is a little mushy, but I can see where it's coming from. Like I said, the Carolinian Creed can be broken down into three things: I will not cheat, I will respect everyone, and I will not be an asshole (or at least to the best of my ability).

My Marine

Joseph Anthony Barbosa is the closest thing to family that a non-blood relative can be. He was not married into my family, but rather taken into our close-knit circle. After some deviant behavior between us two involving breaking and entering, trespassing, underage drinking, possession, and a plethora of other charges (these were "kindly" dropped), he was out of a home. We took him in, although my actual family was disappointed in our prior actions, they decided to take the high road and forgive us and take an even higher road and practically adopt Joey, as he is affectionately called.
Now Joey is Rct./Pvt. Barbosa, Joseph A., Plt. 2068, 2nd Bn, "E" Co. My best friend and brother is a jarhead, a leatherneck...and I say that with great admiration and respect. I respect any man or woman in an uniform, but because this is my brother, I hold no greater devotion to him for serving our country.
Sure, I've had plenty of friends go Air Force, Marine Corps, Army, Navy, or Coast Guard, none have ever been so close whereas I get letters. I've never felt so feminine before, opening a letter and tears coming to eyes about how he is getting his ass kicked, his addiction to nicotine suffering from deprivation, missing our former opiate addiction, how much he misses home, all of the personal nonsense.
I guess the only reason I'm writing this is because I have finally heard from him at USC, receiving three letters at once, which was kind of overwhelming. I miss my best friend, the kid I used to do everything with. I used to live with him, used to drink with him, snort illicit drugs with him, used to drive him everywhere, used to play video games with him. It is tough to go through college without him, but in the long run, it works out for the better. We've both kicked most of our devious priors such as yayo or theft, we've grown to accept other people (his fellow marines, my southern classmates), and we've grown in our fondness for his sacrifice. I can't wait until he graduates, only 18 more days then he's unleashed on USC.

Carolina 34 NC State 0

My first Gamecock football game was absolutely amazing. I'm used to going to watch Rutgers, UConn, Syracuse, a plethora of D-IAA schools, etc. etc. Sure it was exciting when Rutgers was in the AP top 25 two years ago and they played UConn at home in New Jersey; sure it was exciting when UConn went on a miracle run into the AP top 25 last year and played Rutgers at home along with a couple other games I witnessed; but this is a pale contrast to what happens at Williams-Brice Stadium every home game, no matter if the 'Cocks are winning (5-1 start to the season last year) or losing (their epic 0-5 second half). It was an experience to say the least. I've never lost my voice at an athletic event, and trust me I cheer my teams on, whether it be the Boston Red Sox fighting for the wild card years back, the New England Patriots 16-0 game against the Giants, the countless UConn/Rutgers games, the numerous UConn Basketball season (that is one thing us yankees in Connecticut can brag about, seeing as I believe we take this a lot more serious than the sub-par performances of the SC basketball team), or even the Hartford Whalers/Wolfpack ice hockey teams. But this was different; it was not about the amount of screaming or the length of screaming, it was the intensity that was found in the cheers. I've never been apart of a student section that has so much heart and determination, even when playing a terrible school out of the ACC (Almost Counts as a Conference). Even though we root for a team that, at best, is going to end up as a 8-4 team with a mediocre bowl game (and I say that with optimism for the future), we still root for multiple things such as tradition, pride, and pure drunken love for our school. We tailgate the hardest, we cheer the loudest, and we kick ass even in defeat, and trust me, from an objective standpoint, we are in a state of defeat a heck o'va lot.

First Day of Classes

It's almost inane to believe that the school year is upon us already, as the schools I'm used to have yet to allow their students to move in yet. After a restless night of sleep, one filled with anxiety, apprehension, and caution, I began to prepare for class. It is odd, at least to me, to start school on Thursday, but at least I had University 101 as my first class. The infamous "un"-required prerequisite to everything USC is probably the most like the classes most of us are used to. Fun projects, minimal work, small classroom setting, fun environment, and amiable instructor. I never thought college would allow such a thing. First impressions are positive, but with a 238 student capacity in my next class (Journalism) looming over my head, it's hard to say what my feelings are right now. That's more than my graduating class, albeit my school was mainly comprised of males (a few feminine characters scattered around). All the same, it is safe to say that U101 will be a pleasant wake-up at 8:00 am every Tuesday and Thursday.