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(03/29/07 4:00am)
This week we are writing about the best. You may ask yourself, what does it take to be number one (because two is not a winner and three no one remembers)? Or is it two that is the best and three with the hairy, hairy chest? Well, all these questions - your burning concerns - will be answered in the next 32 pages.
(03/22/07 4:00am)
It bothers me when people laugh at other people's choices of music. When they chuckle as Ace of Base comes on an iTunes shuffle and the owner of the music device scrambles to hit "skip," all the while wishing that he or she could find out where that damn sign that the band saw was. I mean, if their eyes were opened, why not yours?
But then there is the chuckle, chuckle, giggle that someone will be doing, most likely right behind me, pointing.
This is not a funny subject.
That is why here at Street we are doing something that has never been done in our recent collective memories. We are hosting a free concert where all can come and a) get down, b) shake their grove thaaangs (like Polaroid pictures) and most importantly c) not be laughed at, chuckled at, or made a fool of because of their love of sweet sounds.
Yes, this will be a forum for lovers of music and lovers of FUN, life, love, and liberty in general (we left out property, but that too). If you do not come, you will probably be perceived as a hater of all of those things. You will most likely lose friends, alienate yourself from loved ones, and be publicly shunned and humiliated.
So it is our recommendation that you come to the concert and let loose. STREETAPALOOZA. How could you even consider missing a concert that has six - yes, six! - vowels in its title? I mean, for the sake of Vana White, you should come.
That said, this week's Street is dedicated to enjoying the time that you spend outside of the library and the facebook.com. We have pieces on good cookin' people (Food and Drink, pg.6), how to throw a fabOlous party (Ego, pg.8) and an invitation to a free concert that can be best described in a haiku:
Streetapalooza
The wind whispers: free concert
And Street is at peace.
(03/15/07 4:00am)
For about a week or so - well, exactly the duration of Spring Break to be precise - I have been boring my friends, close relatives, and the card-swipers at both Van Pelt and Pottruck with the revelations that I came to while spending almost an entire week with no human interactions.
Yes, over spring break, as my peers were basking away on beaches, backpacking through Europe or chillaxing at home, I spent some quality time here in the Ill of delphia getting "caught up" on schoolwork. But this break was more of a didactic holiday where I truly learned what it was like to be . alone (and also how to get trapped inside of the tanning booths located at Hollywood Tans in Rittenhouse).
Last week I spent my time watching old episodes of the O.C., reading about poverty, 'learning,' and lamenting the loss of my innocence. Some recent events: Captain America is dead; Harry Potter showed off his magic wand live onstage in London. Society, have we lost sight of what is good and pure?
I also watched Titanic. Now, it was one thing for Rose tolet Jack slip to the bottom of the ocean when she promised that she would "never let go," (LIES) but killing off Captain America? What did he ever do, other than try to rid the world of evil? Is that so wrong?
Then, upon a reviewing of The Sound of Music, to my dismay, I did not find the hills alive with the sound of music, the laughter of children, soft, black, shiny pebbles, packages, or tied string. Instead, I found them to be full of Nazi's. It was truly horrifying.
In short, from the aforementioned experiences, four truths have arisen:
solitude (especially in the confines of Van Pelt) is morally crippling
it is possible to be trapped, nearly naked, inside of a tanning booth
the tan achieved from the aforementioned experience is not worth the trauma that occurred to get said tan
a life reexamined while slightly sunburnt, more so humiliated, and completely isolated finds that the writer (this author) has only gained five pounds but has no new insights on LIFE.
That said, I fashioned my yellow highlighter as a stake, and stabbed those demons in their hearts. Revitalized, I am ready to rejoin society anew, only slightly jaded and with one definite truth:
Only self-loathing idiots spend spring break in the library.
(02/22/07 5:00am)
It's been an interesting week, to say the least. With spring a-knock knockin' on the door, the weather has just recently taken a turn for the better (or gas prices have stabilized enough to make an inconvenient truth a little more convenient and heat up the ill of delphia enough that I secretly thank every SUV driver as the warmth from their excess keeps my snot from freezing as I pass through the wind tunnel).
That being said, we are on the home stretch, and this week Street is taking a look into the rare species of T.A. (see Ego, page 8) Now, this rare species should not be confused with the new bare-headed species of Brittany Spears, because unlike Ms. Spears, your average T.A. is neither white trash nor . well, white trash.
While the T.A. may seem like an elusive, foreign species (for those who do not attend lecture or go to office hours) a chameleon if you will, on occasion their pastel colored sweaters allow them to blend in perfectly with their surroundings (any library or academic building, office or lecture hall) - but do not be confused, they are still there.
That is right, your T.A. may seem like he is not paying attention, but he is carefully recording when you a) fall asleep in class, b) do the sudoku c) fall asleep while doing the sudoku or d) think that you are an idiot because he already did the sodoku and the crossword in the time it took you to figure out that the number five went into the first column, left box.
You may see your T.A. in public and be caught off guard. Do not fear, young scholar! Your T.A. is a person too! They can carry five times their weight in books, but they can also get down with their bad academic selves at a concert, bar, or even the graduate student center (there is free coffee there - how else would your T.A be so chipper all the time?).
So ask yourself, 'When was the last time I hugged my T.A.' 'Do I know my T.A.'s name?' Or 'Do I refer to him merely as the T.A.?'''
In short, love your T.A. because your T.A. probably loves (or loathes) you and while you write your Poli-Sci midterm on the beach your average T.A. will be chillin' like the villain that he is in the library cause in the end, he grades you. Oh snap.
Ta ta,
(02/01/07 5:00am)
If you are young and reading this - meaning that you are perhaps a) an idealist b) a Penn student and c) well versed in the works of such Revolutionaries of Ghandi, Ch‚, and now Bono (or sort of versed, you at least know who they are to the extent of identifying them on a poster in one of your friend's room) - chances are you are at some point going to attend a political rally, protest, or heated conversation at 3, 4, or 5 in the morning, catalyzed by some pernicious sort of drink or herbal supplement.
(01/25/07 5:00am)
Four, tres, two, uno. Listen up ya'll, cuz this is it, this issue of Street is ridiculous. Streetalicious definition: make our readers loco. You want our stories and you get your pleasures from our photos. You can see us. You can read us. We are easy; we ain't sleazy. We have reasons why we tease, but it's you we want to please - Streetalicious.
(01/18/07 5:00am)
Well, hello. How are you? It's been a while. You are bored, huh. Just finished the sudoku? Well, sort of? Close enough. As far as you are concerned there are two fives counting up to ten. What is that noise? Oh, your professor is still rambling on about- what is it? You do not even know. Sigh, it's Thursday, so there is really no use in doing the crossword. Unless you really think that Djake is the capital of Bangladesh. Unlikely.
(11/16/06 5:00am)
The Fountain
(09/28/06 4:00am)
Hello. Some of you may know of what a free sample is. Some of you may know the extreme lengths that some may go to procure said samples.
(04/06/06 4:00am)
Entering Satya on a Saturday afternoon is a calming experience. The owner, Romy Scheroder, is at ease, talking to a friend who dropped in to say hello. She wears the same clothes that are on display in her store, not out of self-promotion, but because she is passionate about her merchandise. In fact, to her the items in her store are not merchandise, but works of art, each with its own personal appeal.