Dali- Genius or Crazy?

Should the personalities of artists not affect the way that patrons see their work, or do we have the right to judge works in the context of artists' private lives? Of course politicians deserve to be judged by their private scandals, but can we allow ourselves to judge artists, athletes, and other celebrities on the grounds of their actions outside of their mediums too? To what extent does personality matter? The legacy of the artist Salvador Dali consists of two battling entities: Dali as a public figure, and Dali as an artist. Read this art newspaper article's summary and prepare to look into more of Dali's works next class period.

-Indy

In art, mastery of a certain medium is not the only skill that dictates success. Although many of the greatest paintings show hyper-realistic landscapes filled with flowers so faithfully regenerated that one could even smell them, some artists are more recognized for their ideas than for their mastery of the brush. In her article entitled, “Rehabilitating Salvador Dali,” Cristina Carrillo de Albornoz argues the merit of the eccentric Spanish artist.  The author argues that because Dali’s personality overshadows many of his works, it is not universally acknowledged that Dali was really a genius light-years ahead of his time and an “extraordinary artist of boundless imagination (with) a great capacity to connect with the collective imagination (Cristina).”
       
Part of the Dali’s legacy was the way that he influenced artists that came after his time. Because Dali worked in so many fields (painting, literature, drawing, photography, cinema, stage design, and interior design), he had a wide reach that enabled him to meet many successful artists that he would later influence. Andy Warhol would throw parties with Dali and referred to him as ‘master.’ Dali inspired Andy Warhol to pursue the idea of industrialism and the factory. Dali also met and became friends with filmmaker Walt Disney when he went to the United States. Dali’s interests of breaking down barriers between high and low culture, self-promotion as a platform for art, and interest in new technology inspired artists like Andy Warhol, Roy, Lichtenstein, Sigmar Polke, and Jeff Koons (Cristina).
       
But it is hard to see Dali’s genius when it is juxtaposed next to his eccentric personality. As Sevilliano puts it, “For the first time, we are confronted with a multi-faceted personality, a superb artist able to connect with the purest classcism but who joins the Surrealist movement and revolutionizes it (Cristina).” Many claim that Dali’s personality didn’t show the man that he was, and that his exposed frivolous side had a negative effect because it made the public doubt Dali’s seriousness in his craft. But many hold Dali in higher esteem and give him higher historical significance because of his personality. Sevilliano adds, “There are people who collect pictures by Dali and other people who collect hairs from his mustache. Both groups are devotees but we have to analyze Dali by looking at both aspects: the icon who communicates with the masses and the mold-breaking artist (Cristina).”
       
But as Ms. Aguer says, research and analysis of his work are always changing the public’s interpretation of Dali. The public is developing the idea that Dali was a thinker and one of the few 20th century artists who really knew how to combine an “in-depth knowledge of tradition with an intense commitment to modernity (Cristina).” Although many see Dali’s final works as lazy, unfinished, and lacking substance, Mr. Pixot believes that that end of Dali’s career produced interesting works barely anyone has researched. These final paintings embody the lesson of Dali’s life. Dali’s eccentric personality shouldn’t have a negative effect on Dali’s value as an artist, because Dali’s views on psychoanalysis, science, and religious mysticism redefined the frontiers of art, fashion, and pop culture in ways that we are only beginning to understand. According to Pitxot, Dali’s work is so influential, that “his enormous impact on contemporary art has yet to be fully assessed (Cristina).”

Cristina Carrillo de Albornoz, “Rehabilitating Salvador Dali,” Art Newspaper, Vol. 18, (June 2009) pg. 42-43

Brining a New Meaning to Loan Sharks and Materialism

Sometimes a shark is not simply a shark. In the case of the profound artist Damien Hirst, the underlying message of his piece is not gleamed at the first beautifully horrifying glance. Muggle affiliations aside, I do recognize when I am in the presence of profound work and I daresay I had to stop a moment and marvel at Hirst’s accomplishment in his piece, “The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living”. By submerging a full-sized and completely preserved shark into a vast glass tank of formaldehyde, Hirst is able to send a message that not only talks about the great power of death, something I’ve always said could use a bit more attention, but, as Luke White argues in his article “Damien Hirst's Shark: Nature, Capitalism and the Sublime”, draws a comparison between the incomprehensibility of death with the inability to see where Muggle greed and society has truly led them.

White argues that Hirst focuses in the “natural sublime”, saying that such an interest in the sublime has re-surged because of its “relevance as an aesthetic of terrible nature”. Hirst piece certainly carries a horrible nature. If I had not Nagini, I might have to buy myself a shark companion (living, of course) for the creatures seem absolutely horrific. Hirst manages to showcase this, the creatures fierce being and the rigidity in which it must move, without actually animating the creature whatsoever (although... I suppose sharks could make good Inferi). The shark, at first glance, appears to be in its natural element, completely submerged, but he is instead cloaked in a more alien and sublime mystique. The unnatural blue of the chemical it now soaks in, the stiffness. That death could conquer something so feared by Muggles, adds to the mystery and power of incomprehensible death. And provocation is what Hirst seeks; he “means to push his audience’s buttons”. Hirst notes how the shark, to Muggles, represents a “really powerful kind of horror” and acts as a “universal trigger”. He says “that ‘everyone’s frightened of sharks, everyone loves butterflies’”. Although I might have to disagree with Hirst on the last point (butterflies are amongst the most irksome and useless creatures), I do say these methods are quite brilliant. To show Muggles that their society, their methods of an “opulent” lifestyle are so incomprehensible to the sensible being, are so frightful to those who truly see, through the use of nature itself, that thing they destroyed, is frighteningly fresh.

Beyond the fear of mortality, Hirst reveals that capitalistic Muggle society is just as muddled, just as terrifying as death itself. This shark, nature itself in all its beauty and raw power, is meant to symbolize nature’s “limit to human power, progress and wealth, something which even threatens to destroy us”. The shark is not only nature which Muggles so destroy. The shark is death. Floating in its grave, the shark has been conquered by the worst outcome. There is nothing more terrible or stronger than death and this terrifies Muggles, as it rightly should. So they seek to evade it. Not using their brains and creating an impenetrable slew of Horocruxes to evade off the end, they instead, White argues, turn to capitalism and their own opulence. They swallow their fears in the incomprehensible capitalistic wealth and greed. Little do they know how poorly this route ends. The Malfoys certainly didn’t. Influential and wealthy beyond belief and they still fell by my hands, their master of death. They, as all Muggles shall, ended up drowning in their own means of protection from death. The fools. 

For, as Hirst depicts and White acknowledges, there is a link between the pitiful attempts of Muggles to ward off their inevitable ends by surrounding themselves with jewels and false friends and their overwhelming and consuming fear of death. Both methods they cannot understand. They understand not the final horrifying collapse. They understand not that their diamond necklaces choke their necks and make them bleed all their filthy blood until they run dry. Just as they don’t understand that though they may think the shark destroyed, death obliterated by their own chemical creation, it still stands as a symbol for what is inevitably coming for them. Their basest fears manifesting from their own means of protection. How poetic, is it not?


In his analysis of Hirst’s piece, White, although a Muggle, is able to extract what needs to be seen from the work. He sees the shark, not as other members of his pitiful race do, as their conquering of death, as their victory lap. Instead he sees it as Hirst’s warning that the macabre still lurks out there and that death can never be destroyed (by Muggle means). Death is not incomprehensible because it can’t be perceived when it is experienced. Death is impossible to grasp because in their attempts to understand, Muggles just end up destroying themselves. And they can’t see how they are ruining themselves right before their eyes.

White, Luke. "Damien Hirst's Shark: Nature, Capitalism and the Sublime." Tate
    Papers 14 (2010): n. pag. Art Full Text. Web. 28 Nov. 2011.
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The Mumas and Raleigh

Tonight, Raleigh will be part of a grand experiment. We have all been waiting for this moment—the moment when the game really begins! If you are reading this message, the city is already falling under my control. The only question is, what will you do with this information? Are you the first one to read this? If you think not, will you risk the lives of thousands in your complacency? What’s your plan?

Not panicking? Read on, then, and perhaps you will realize what you must do to stop me. My associates have their hands in many places. A little bird brought this study to me. I leave to you, for your pleasure.

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
-
           At a glance, Raleigh is a city almost indistinguishable from several others. Its size, its reputation, its climate and even in some ways its inhabitants are moderate—reasonable, pleasant, temperate, but moderate. It is in many ways unexceptional, with its big appeals mostly chalked up to mild weather and steady economic growth. In another sense, however, the city has an undeniable attraction to many thousands, as evidenced to the hundreds more which move somewhere within the city or its suburbs each year. For some, the migration is purely an immediate economic matter, but to others, the city represents possibility, hope, and a chance for the next generation to better itself and change the future for the better. This possibility rests squarely with education, and it is in education that Raleigh finds itself a leader.
           I met Davis Muma while walking down Blount Street in downtown Raleigh one day, and he was kind enough to share with me some of his family’s experience with learning and living in the City of Oaks. His story is, like any individual’s, much more complicated than I can relate here, but as a product of the educational systems found here, his family is a ready example.
           Growing up, Davis’s father David Muma made his home in several places, moving across, into and out of New York state multiple times. With his three brothers, Harold, Steve and Tom; his father Harold; and his mother Jane; David Muma inhabited several different homes in many distinct geographic areas, always anchored by the support of his family. It was not until David’s high school years that the Mumas found their way to Raleigh, North Carolina, then a modest but growing metropolitan area. David and Harold, the youngest of the brothers, finished their compulsory schooling at Millbrook High School while the elder Tom and Steve, coming of age, attended North Carolina State University. Each brother in his own time would make his way through the red-robed halls of this institution; each would take something unique from his time there. Although their interests were not perfectly aligned, the brothers found something uncommon in the university, some exceptional quality which appealed across the disparity of their ages and remained, for them, a constant unifier. Despite the paths their lives would take in the future, the university would remain a part of each man’s identity and shape his family in the years to come.
           Today, Harold and Jane’s Raleigh home remains an annual meeting place for major holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas, despite the four brothers’ movement across the country. Davis’s elder cousins, as they have inevitably attended N. C. State University, have relied upon their grandparents’ proximity throughout their careers as students. Passing through Millbrook High, a Wake County Public School, these cousins have gone on to pursue degrees in such diverse subjects as business, engineering, history and philosophy, often graduating with high honors. All of Davis’s cousins, to date, are employed, hard-working and dedicated citizens, as well as avid N.C. State football fans.
           Davis, too, has been shaped by Raleigh’s exemplary schools and systems. Raised in north Raleigh, Davis first attended Lead Mine Elementary. There he completed his kindergarten through third grade years without a hitch, although he often felt stifled by the limited pace of his classes and contained within an overly definitive curriculum. Far from perpetuating these problems, however, the city provided for solutions; and so for fourth grade Davis made use of the city’s options to transfer to Hunter GT Magnet Elementary School, a place where several different “paths” allowed students to learn at different rates according to the level of challenge each individually required. The school was also one of the few elementary schools to offer students electives, granting kindergarten through fifth graders choices in their educations. Here Davis flourished, taking pride in his work and working hard to keep up with his classes. In his fifth grade year he received an academic award granted by the Wake County Public Schools Superintendent for his efforts as a student.
           Ligon Magnet Middle School followed, preparing Davis for the rigor of high school and higher education. Its effects, too, were indicative of the educational opportunities available in Wake County, but followed in much the same vein as Hunter Elementary, with different groups of students studying according to their particular strengths and weaknesses. A wide variety of electives here, too, allowed for an extraordinary level of choice for the secondary education stage. Perhaps most importantly, Davis’s positive impression with magnet schools, which seek to attract students rather than enrolling an assigned geographic base, disposed him to consider attending Raleigh Charter High School. The accelerated math program at Ligon also placed him into the highest level math class available to a freshman at Raleigh Charter, which contributed to his chances in the entry lottery.
           When he entered the school in the fall of 2007, Davis found the independence and intellectually-fostering atmosphere of the institution empowering. He sought out clubs from the almost extreme variety offered and ran by students, eventually rising to leadership positions. In Raleigh Charter’s small class sizes, individual attention was complemented by mutually supportive relationships between teachers and students. Far from being isolated in their studies, students often built upon each other’s energy and passion to contribute to the school’s unique environment. Davis was not an isolated incident; his classmates, too, committed themselves to learning, engaging in critical academic discussion on a daily basis. Almost all graduates of Raleigh Charter High School go on to pursue degrees in higher education. Many end up at some of the country’s finest colleges and universities, such as Yale, Harvard, Duke, the University of Pennsylvania and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, among many others.
           It is evident that Raleigh has contributed to the growth of incredible students. Its diversity busing policy, its magnet programs, its teachers and Wake County’s attempts to ensure quality often succeed. Although Davis’s case above is not guaranteed and many realities within the city fall far short of the norm, his story still demonstrates the greater system’s possibilities. In all, his family is strongly tied to Raleigh through education, whether embodied in the previous generation’s relationship to N. C. State University or Davis’s own matriculation from Magnet and Charter schools. The city has served multiple generations.

Music, Med, Tar-Heel Born, Tar-Heel Bred.

What makes a person a person? Do you think that where you grew up and your experiences there determined your personality and beliefs? Or do you think that your personality is independent of your upbringing? Think about these questions when you read about Matthew Kilby from the prospective of a historian or anthropologist and learn what he thinks has defined his personality.
-Indy

Matthew’s and his parents’ schooling gave them similar experiences and interests. Chapel Hill instilled ideas in Matthew’s parents that Matthew now demonstrates, and even influenced Matthew’s life before he enrolled at the university there. Matthew’s fascination with music can be traced back to Chapel Hill’s influence on his parents musical tastes. Also, Chapel Hill’s medical program affected his parents’ decisions to become physicians. While Matthew hasn’t ever been particularly drawn to Math or Science based courses, he is still interested in possibly pursuing a career involved with public health. Chapel Hill’s culture has influenced Matthew’s life’s choices by influencing the way that his parents raised him.
       
Chapel Hill has a relatively famous musical scene, especially because Chapel Hill is the neighbor of Carrboro, a town placed on the map by its variety of musical acts. While Matthew’s father was in school, he spent his weekends watching musical acts around the Chapel Hill area. One of his best friends was a regular at Franklin Street clubs and Matthew’s dad would occasionally play along; He was inspired by the Chapel Hill legend James Taylor to learn to play the guitar. This interest in music naturally transferred to Matthew from growing up around his father’s guitar playing. The Ben Folds 5, another famous group that got their start in Chapel Hill, also influenced Matthew and his father’s musical tastes. When Matthew got older, he lost interest in taking classical piano lessons after taking years of lessons in grade school. But the Ben Folds 5 introduced Matthew to piano as a contemporary outlet and inspired Matthew to take up the piano again. With his interested renewed, Matthew started playing piano in a rock band of his own, even playing tour dates in multiple states the summer before college. Furthermore, Matthew’s new found love for the piano helped him to more universally understand music through one instrument and started his interest in studying music theory, which is one of Matthew’s primary focuses as a music major at UNC.
       
The medical programs at UNC and in the research triangle area also played a crucial role in inspiring Matthew’s parents to be doctors. Both of his parents were attracted by the famous medical schools at Duke and UNC after growing up near them, but never attended until graduate school. Both of Matthew’s parents admit that before college they didn’t feel very strong in either math or science, but they knew they were interested in helping people. Matthew’s parents share a similar background with him regarding the relationship between their pre-med studies and their liberal arts education. Although they were heavily involved in the humanities, both his parents made time for pre-med programs. Matthew’s mother played the piano at the level of a music major, although she wasn’t,  and Matthew’s father was an English major, but made time for pre-med classes. Matthew plans on following a similar path in college. Although he loves music and is a music major, Matthew is uneasy about the risk involved in solely pursuing his passion, and fears that if he does he may not be able to fully support a future family. Being involved in the humanities and doing pre-health classes has given him and his parents the opportunity to satisfy their artistic curiosities while still intensifying their math and science education.
       
The similarities in Matthew and his parents’ college experiences are unexpected, because Matthew never intended to follow his parents’ lead on any of their career moves. In fact, he originally was afraid of his parents’ reactions when he decided to declare a music major, but was surprised when his parents were accepting. If anything, a quarter-life crisis pushed him to do everything he could to guarantee that he wasn’t just following in his parents’ footsteps, but actually making decisions for himself. Because Matthew’s parents both were involved in activities around Chapel Hill, the town indirectly molded Matthew into what he is today through his parents.

White, Timothy. James Taylor: Long Ago and Far Away ; His Life and Music. London: Omnibus, 2005. Print.
Vickers, James. Chapel Hill. Dover, NH: Arcadia, 1996. Print.

What Mooresville Can Teach the Modern "Opportunist"

 (The people of Mooresville prepare for my arrival)

Amongst the wondrous glory that is Mooresville, home of NASCAR and vendor of that brilliant confection called the corn dog, lies that most ignorant and backwoods family I have ever had the misfortune of meeting: the Telling’s. Not only did they produce the woefully naiive and simple-minded daughter that I have ever had to dissect (and I mean that literally, Nagini rather found her limbs to be pleasantly mealy), but they refuse to honor the crown jewel amongst the coal of the rest of Mooresville. Because, let’s face it, had there not been any other claims to fame in that "bo-dunk" town, it would have been burned and leveled by now. But no, Blayne’s family has lived there for fifteen years and yet, in all their time, they have not been able to see the shining ray of glory presented in (the corn dog) “Race City, USA”. The notion that Muggles hold strong attachments to their hometowns seems to be unravelling as nothing more than myth, something that could bode well for future dictators such as myself. 

In between her screams and pleads for mercy, Blayne tells me that she moved to the Mooresville area when she was three years old, right before her younger sister Paige was born and has lived in “that wretched place” ever since. Apart from collecting the next source for Nagini’s “fourth meal” (she’s growing increasingly hungry and the munchies always seem to hit around eleven), this information grows tedious. She then went on to inform me that as she grew older she grew more tired of place, seeing it as what it really was rather than the glamorized version of one’s own town held by smaller Muggle children. She mentioned something about ignorant people with Escalades with only a handful of good people tossed in the mix. I don’t know, I began to tune her out. Now I even struggle to remember what else she told me about her family and this town as she begged for death. I do know one thing. She has only ever been to one NASCAR race.  

Only one! I almost stopped my endless stream of Crucios for I could not believe these words! Only one glorious race, only one time bearing witness to the most productive, maybe the only production, creation of Muggle kind to see this earth. She confessed that she lived in Mooresville but that the track was an hour’s drive (whatever the hell a “drive” was) away, also that her father had preferred the Muggle sport “golf” as opposed to the gods of racing. She described instead a quite and dull life living in a Muggle suburb, attending Muggle school, watching her parents go through a Muggle divorce and now living with her Muggle mother, sister, brother and dog while she attended Muggle college. Her life had been so unaffected by the namesake of her town that at times, she confessed, she sometimes forgot Mooresville’s claim to fame. Apparently, the race track in which I so speak of exists in a place called “Concord” nearby and the only reason Mooresville was given its title is because many racing companies base their headquarters there. Of course, this could just be Muggle stupidity, so I took the information with a grain of salt. She described the only race she had ever been to as being loud and cumbersome and noisy, nothing more than a “Cancer Stick Society” gathering, as she so put, full of screaming rednecks. She seemed to also mention something about craving a town with more excitement, more intellectual stimulation, citing how difficult it was to find anything inspiring in a town as such. Apart from her friends, mother and siblings, she mentioned really having no need to ever return there. Interesting information of course in that it contradicts all we wizards previously believed. So, after I killed her, I began to think. Perhaps this entire exercise, besides keeping my overly nosy therapist off my back, had some use after all.  

Blayne Telling shows that Muggles, while being frightfully dull and stupid, are not all closely connected to their hometowns. The realm of possibility for this discovery is immense! Here my therapist, for a moment, actually had me believing that should I kill a Muggle, their entire town would turn up in arms and try and hunt me down. Not to say it wouldn’t be difficult to kill them all should they decide that as their course of action. I could wipe them all out in a matter of seconds. However the constant clean up required of me would simply take too long. I prefer the more elaborate methods. This senseless uniform killing isn’t to my taste, and frankly, can be quite tacky. Murder requires personal touches, touches I would be unable to give in such a circumstance. But no matter, for with Blayne I came across an astounding discovery. Muggles aren’t just leeches on wizarding society, but in fact some are such burdens to their own kind that their own towns wouldn’t so much as bat an eye should they be slaughtered, and they are such isolated creatures that should their towns be levelled, they shouldn’t mind at all. Muggles don’t seem to hold the same familial home-spun town values I always assumed they would. I guess that’s what I get for basing my genocide plans on an assumption, but hey, who knew? 

Through Blayne Telling’s confession, and apparent lack of ties to anything associated with Mooresville, any budding dictator can extract essential information. Those who wish to eradicate Muggles (Good choice, join the cause! Our jackets should be in next week. Nagini designed them), now know that they can do so without feeling that twang of annoyance that the really good murders are being taken away from them as the dead Muggle’s town-mates all bond together in a riotous group hell-bent on “taking me out”. Muggle society seems to be in such shambles that fostering feelings of good will towards one’s hometown seems is soon receding into a notion of the past. However, should one (less intelligent) dictator decide to target another group, they now know to truly delve into their source matter and discover the real inner workings of their victim’s society. Look how well it worked for me? I’ve killed Cameron Weiner, Blayne Telling, and her entire family in the past week and so far no annoying mobs have come pounding down my door (Well, there was that one Avon representative and she has been dealt with accordingly).

The Joker, Live from the City of Raleigh

 
          Universals take us by surprise. Even I sometimes forget that Gotham is not alone. Hives of activity, of self-declared order and law, exist everywhere, and in every case they deny themselves the truth. Such is the case in New York, in Philadelphia, in Los Angeles, and in the happy little capital city of lovely little North Carolina: Raleigh. If you have been following my correspondence this far, you might have caught onto a few little things already. New agents, new ideas, big bad mailmen just begging to be chased by mad dogs… I need a new project to wet my tongue while the police bar Gotham against me. It’ll be a short vacation, I’m sure. They will forget me—oh, humans are sure to forget—but until then, I ask you, why not have a little fun? And so here we are, at the moment when I introduce to you my delightful friend the city of Raleigh. How complacent it seems, how content in its suburban norms, its happy statuses, its normalities! John and Jane going about their business in the Research Triangle Park, sitting for hours in traffic on I-540—my associates suppose that the people deserve this injection of chaos. But I mustn’t give the whole story away at once! Where’s the fun in that?

Consider Raleigh’s history. I think Joe A. Mobley puts it best in his delightful read Raleigh, North Carolina: a Brief History, a book filled with his perception of the great whys of the city. The order behind the development, behind almost everything major that has happened to Raleigh in all its days: it’s all here in his indispensable estimation. He takes phenomena and, like we all do, reassures himself with explanations, with false rules and trends that make us feel that we have accounted for our lives and our safety. Incredible specimen! In Chapter Six: Raleigh Comes of Age, you’ll see, he argues that Raleigh has undergone incredible growth because of its citizens’ commitment “to establishing and maintaining the best life possible for all the inhabitants” (171).

It’s funny, really. Mobley spends the beginning of the chapter rattling off a list of the city’s major illusions, clinging to them in the natural disposition towards false hope. Why has Raleigh grown? New homes, rising construction industries, idyllic suburbs, shopping malls, he says. J. W. York and R. A. Bryan build Cameron Village in 1954! He mentions Crabtree Valley Mall, North Hills, South Glenwood, and we are just giddy with pride and self-satisfaction. College basketball! College football! The Progress Energy Center and Walnut Creek Amphitheatre! He thinks of these things as emblems of the supremacy of human control and happy dominance over the state of their lives; as for me, I see them all as one great game.

           Even Mobley, the sweetheart, must admit that his order isn’t all just milk and honey. The city, as he discusses, resisted the deletion of its own inner divisions; it persisted in denying sections of its own citizens coverage under their system of ostensible justice. As he discusses racial segregation in the city, Mobley cannot reframe Raleigh’s insistence on an unfair order. He mentions Brown v. Board of Education and the state’s Pearsall Plan, but, unable to reconcile the paradox in his perception of the established organization, concludes without giving indication that the city redeemed itself for undermining the former and furthering the latter. In his misguided attempt at objectivity, Mobley must acknowledge, too, the city’s other problems, which he blankly states in all their multiplicity. Air pollution, crime, filth, poverty, traffic—each one of these, it seems, is just another part of the plan.

And since Mobley ends by calling to mind the problems that Raleigh will face in the coming decades, I think I will add another to the list. It’s funny, in that way that really gets you when you least expect it. The barbarities that the natural world will inflict upon itself are not terribly different from the self-inflicted evils of our precious human world. John and Jane think that they are safe sitting alone in their little suburban home in the cozy heart of quiet little Raleigh, but soon they will see the truth of the matter. And oh, will it be hilarious.

Mobley, Joe A. Raleigh, North Carolina: a Brief History. New York: The History Press, 2009. Print.

Chapel Hill, Now and then.

We have been examining many ancient artifacts in class, but our studies haven’t yet focused on a modern subject. It’s funny how a place that Matthew Kilby, an undergraduate at UNC, has barely ever lived feels most like home. Although Matthew lived in Birmingham, Alabama for fifteen years, and in South Carolina for three, Chapel Hill unifies his life.

Matthew was born in a hospital on Chapel Hill’s campus, just a small walk from Craige dorm where he stays now. Chapel Hill’s influence on Matthew’s life has a width greater than his age. Matthew’s mother attended UNC medical school and Matthew’s father attended medical school at Duke. His parents met in Chapel Hill, and the city became a symbol of their relationship. Although Matthew only lived in Chapel Hill for 3 months after his birth and only 3 months so far for his undergraduate education, the city took on deeper meaning in his life when he watched his parents speak fondly of their first dates and memories during Matthew’s college tour. Chapel Hill’s history is one that is more rich than Charleston’s or Birmingham’s, and certainly more influential in Matthew Kilby’s life.
-Indy

Chapel Hill, or “The Southern Part of Heaven,” is a town that holds the oldest public university in the United States. It was the home of William Barbee, whose 1753,585 acre land grant from the Earl of Granville established half of what is now the Durham and Chapel Hill area. William acted as a steward and the superintendent of the grounds of the university (Vickers 15). Chapel Hill has always had a reputation for social integrity, and Matthew’s parent’s Liberal values were influenced greatly by this. In 1968, only one year after schools became fully integrated, Chapel Hill became one of the first mainly white cities in the south to elect an African American mayor.
       
Common history in Chapel Hill has led to many similar experiences for Matthew and his parents. The town of Chapel Hill has several traditions that have lasted 30 years or more. One of the most notable is the Halloween party, when Franklin Street, a street running across the northern side of UNC’s campus, can be packed to up to 70,000 people. “Fallfest,” a fair that promotes artists, crafts-makers, nonprofits, and food also gathers many students to Franklin Street. Many musical acts perform, and more than 10,000 people attend the fair regularly (Vickers 73). Although these huge festivals take place, Chapel Hill still holds a reputation for having a small town feel. Matthew’s parent’s love of music is reflected in Chapel Hill’s history. Chapel Hill shares a vibrant musical scene with Carrboro, a town that is best described as Chapel Hill’s hippie brother. Many of Matthew’s family’s favorite bands, namely Archers of Loaf, James Taylor, and Ben Folds 5, all started their careers near Chapel Hill.
       
While some aspects of the Chapel Hill life are the same for Matthew and his parents, some things have changed considerably. When Matthew’s mother was in school, the population of Chapel Hill was reportedly close to 32,000 (Vickers 158). Now the population of the city has sky-rocketed to even more than 57,000, or almost twice the amount of people than in Matthew’s parents time.
       
Matthew, having lived in several places throughout his life, has a hard time identifying one place as home. But even though Matthew hasn’t lived in Chapel Hill as long as the places that he grew up, Chapel Hill unites Matthew’s life and reflects its story most. Matthew’s influence from the city has showed that home, ironically enough, is sometimes a place that one has to find.

Vickers, James. Chapel Hill. Dover, NH: Arcadia, 1996. Print.

NASCAR and Corndogs, Maybe this Muggle Race has Some Hope

Blayne Telling is just as useless as Cameron Weiner, my last Muggle subject. Unfortunately, my therapist rather condemned Cameron’s murder, and has therefore assigned me a new and more tedious subject. She hopes that I may still reconcile with my humanity and realize that “Muggles are friends, not kindling for firewood, snacks for Nagini, or stress balls for pulverising.” This second assignment forces me to research the town where this insolent Muggle Blayne grew up.  Apparently this exercise involves showing how Muggle populations establish deep roots and how “every murder ripples out and affects hundreds of lives.” If you ask me, all the more reason to kill them. Kill hundreds of birds with one curse? Now that’s just efficient. But, anyway, this assignment forces me to show not only how Blayne Telling was shaped and influenced by her hometown, but also how someone like you could possibly possess an interest in the pathetic Muggle suburb of Mooresville, North Carolina. I see your minds and I know your thoughts, “Surely you must fail, Voldemort, oh great and powerful Dark Lord”. Well think a little longer on that response because my dungeons can easily fit a few more. I do not enjoy failure. But surely, there can’t be something of use in a town that even this imbecile Blayne can’t stand. How can one be shaped by this horrid Mooresville, a place of banks, dry cleaners, and nail salons?

Blayne Telling hates her hometown. I know this because when I visited it and rampaged the McDonald’s off exit 33, leveled the Lowes Foods on Williamson, and burnt down the Harris Teeter on 150 (why did that cashier need my zipcode?), she didn’t even bat an eye. In fact, she seemed relieved. Who wouldn’t be? My trip revealed Mooresville to be nothing but a seeping cesspool of intellectual back breeding and materialistic want. It was a place of ignorance and Range Rovers. My stomach churned, and not just from all the bar food - apparently the only cuisine offered in such a pathetic place, although I have to say Nagini was rather fond of the elementary school and their choice menu. As one can obviously see, apart from indigestion and a couple of meaningless murders, my first trip to “hoe-dunk Mo-town,” as the locals call it, was highly unproductive. Being of a sophisticated mind, I attempted to turn instead to literature.  

Cindy Jacobs is apparently the world’s only historian on the terrible place of Mooresville and must have been subjected to some form of brainwashing as a child. She describes herself as being born and raised in that terrible place, and yet she has not slit her wrist, run away and never looked back, or decided to research a place of more worth. Instead she devotes her life to being a historian for the town and seems to describe it with great pride. Pride, you witless imbecile? Pride for a place in which the most thrilling occurrence was apparently “In 1971 [when] Tom Higgins of the Charlotte Observer coined the term ‘reef grief’ to describe the state of boating safety on Lake Norman” (pg. 93). Reef grief? What kind of pathetic and hopelessly idiotic Muggle can’t even figure out how to navigate a lake without endangering their lives? I manage legions of Death Eaters and still find time to raise Nagini and tend to my herb garden all on my own and they can’t even operate a simple piece of Muggle machinery? If there were ever proof that the Muggle species need to be eradicated for being a parasitic leech on my new reign of perfect order, then the town of Mooresville and the area of Lake Norman is the prime choice!  

After I retrieved my book from throwing it across the room (and nursed Nagini’s swelling face and soothed her mewing cries with a fresh bottle of victims’ blood - apparently she had been napping, unnoticed by me, on a nearby rug), I was convinced that this book was beyond all hope. I only continued because I knew that should I not, I would have to kill my therapist in order to cover up not completing the assignment, and if a third were to go missing, some people might grow suspicious. And so, unfortunately, I kept reading. However, during my masochism, I discovered the most interesting piece of information. Apparently “when Burlington Industries decided to close the Mooresville Denim Plant in 1991, the town was dealt a blow with the loss of more than 650 jobs and taxes from the town’s third-largest taxpayer... Mooresville was wounded economically, but first aid came with a roar of engines and a NASCAR logo” (pg. 119). This Mooresville place it turns out is “Race City, USA”, home to all things “NASCAR”, and this new title saved the town’s industry. Now, being a dark lord with a quest for higher knowledge (so that I may turn that knowledge into evil productivity, but that’s beside the point) and not knowing what this “NASCAR” thing happened to be, I immediately grabbed Nagini and set out for my second trip to Mooresville to find out. And it was there at Lowes Motor Speedway that I discovered the greatest sport in the world: Race car driving. The thrill of the track, the bright lights that shine so nicely off my pale complexion, the roar of the engines that drown out the jeers and spitting insults I hurl at the opposing Muggle drivers, the succulent scent and wondrous taste of the Muggle confection called the “corn dog”--it was more than one could bear! I later discovered that apparently Blayne Telling went to a race once when she was fifteen and quite hated the experience, citing how it was “pointless to watch a bunch of cars make continuous left turns while driving really fast.” I crucio-ed her for good measure. By god, I may have found the one stroke of Muggle genius that I shall leave on the world once I eradicate the beasts. (What, did you think just because I enjoyed their southern sporting pastimes that I would let the cretins live? Hah, you jest).  

Against my previous judgment I now state that Mooresville is the perfect place to live, for it is the home of the only redeeming quality of the Muggle race, the wondrous festival of “NASCAR.” Perhaps when I enslave the earth I will set up a hub in this quaint little town (I could visit it on weekends, take Nagini down to a race while the two of us snack on corn dogs and small children). But anyway, in my opinion (ignore that fool Blayne Telling; I certainly do), Mooresville is one of the greatest Muggle establishments. And I further say that all should come to love and respect this beautiful suburb (for it shall be mandatory in my regime). 



Jacobs, Cindy. Around Lake Norman. Charleston: Arcadia, 2008. Google Book
    Search. Web. 30 Oct. 2011.

Almost as Bad as London

The town--or rather, census-designated place--of Buies Creek, North Carolina is a haven for the small-minded, a perfect example of the backwardness that so frequently characterizes small towns... in short, a place in serious need of the right kind of barber. All it takes is an examination of their history to demonstrate quite clearly that Buies Creek is, and has always been, full of filth and a disgrace to humanity.

Buies Creek is located in Harnett County. The county was formed in 1855 from parts of Cumberland County and received its name from Cornelius Harnett, a local Revolutionary War patriot--and such a pointless war it was, breaking away from one corrupt empire to form another; another of humanity’s futile struggles against itself--but I digress.

Cornelius Harnett is not the only bit of county history related to the Revolutionary War. Near Lillington, the county seat and only a few minutes’ drive from Buies Creek, Patriots executed many Scottish settlers for refusing to fight on their side, either not knowing or not caring of the oaths these Scotsmen had been compelled to swear never to take arms against the British. In other words, even nearly a century before its formation, Harnett County was a prime example of the evil of which mankind is capable. I assure you, it has not changed. There are fewer mass executions at gunpoint than there used to be, I admit, but... well, if you don’t believe me, then let us discuss the town itself.

Buies Creek is home to Campbell University, a Baptist college with a bit of history of its own. It was founded on January 5, 1987 by James Archibald Campbell, who was--what else in this filthy town?--a preacher. It began as a one-room school with twenty-one students and grew rapidly, going through several expansions and name changes before finally becoming Campbell University in 1979; today it hosts between nine and ten thousand students... the thought of such a great number of wretched, twisted souls is sickening.

As a college town Buies Creek is certainly not much; the most excitement a student can get is by going to a nearby town’s bowling alley. The university itself also leaves much to be desired in academic rigor. It does, however, have an excellent school of pharmacy, and also of law--the lowest of professions. In 2009 the law school changed locations to Raleigh, the state capital, and possibly a still more wretched place--but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss Raleigh. Buies Creek will provide more than enough filth for the writing of this essay.

It is not just the local university that is Baptist. These Baptist folk seem to be everywhere in this town, spreading like a plague. If I do decide to set up shop in their little town, they will be the first demographic group targeted. I could go on and on forever on their backward beliefs and attitudes. Their views on gender roles alone are horrifying. Why, in their official statement of faith, they explicitly say that they believe God permits men to be preachers, but forbids women from holding that role. Absurd! It should be clear to everyone that both sexes are equally depraved and should be banned from positions of spiritual authority. How dare they assert that anyone has rights?

Do you now see what a horrible place this town is? How backward, how full of hatred toward anyone different? It needs to be cleansed. It needs me. And who am I to deny its call? I have decided. Buies Creek will have a new barber.


TWO MONTHS LATER

I regret to inform you, loyal readers, that I have failed. I set up shop in Buies Creek; I advertised in all of their pitiful, right-wing-biased newspapers; I even put up fliers all over town, making sure to specify that they were printed on non-recycled paper and would be thrown away afterward, in case they are prejudiced against those who engage in environmentally friendly practices. I thought that business would be booming in no time! But the odds were against me.

There was no demographic group with which I could succeed. Unfortunately, it seems that a shockingly large percentage of the town’s population enjoys walking around with days’ worth of stubble on their faces, perhaps to complement their camouflage jackets. Another significant part of the population, the students of Campbell University, seemed rather annoyed when I approached them on the streets and insisted that they could not afford to be professionally shaved, even for my entirely reasonable price.

Moreover, I faced ignorance and discrimination everywhere I turned. Quite often I would be approached by respectable-looking people who appeared to be prospective clients, but just as I allowed myself to hope, they would ask me if I had “accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior” or invite me to their churches. People shot me dirty looks whenever I ventured outdoors. And besides all that, I kept finding graffiti on my shop, things like “Devil Worshiper” and “Goths Go Home.”

I bore it as long as I could, but when two months passed without a single client, I finally gave up and returned to London. It seems a different approach is needed to deal with the people of Buies Creek. Perhaps I can persuade Mrs. Lovett to give up the meat pie business and learn to make barbeque. With the right poisons, that could work very nicely... Stay tuned for new developments!



SOURCES
http://www.northcarolinahistory.org/encyclopedia/479/entry
http://www.northcarolinahistory.org/encyclopedia/474/entry
http://www.northcarolinahistory.org/encyclopedia/559/entry
http://www.harnett.org/history-of-harnett-county.asp
http://www.sbc.net/bfm/bfm2000.asp

A Little Less Deserving of Death

In a world of people conforming to the pathetic norm, it is refreshing to see a person who is unafraid to swim against the current. It takes true courage to rise above the rest of this filthy race and be one’s own master. Few people have the audacity, or even the ability, to do such a thing, but there are always an extraordinary few who can and do defy society. Davis Muma is such a person.

Davis’ parents met while working as engineers at IBM. His father now manages other engineers. Given his parents’ talents in this field, one might assume that Davis too would wish to pursue a career in some field related to science or technology. Surprisingly, though, instead of being of a scientific bent, Davis is primarily interested in the humanities and the arts. A student at a renowned liberal arts university, majoring in English and tentatively considering a second major in psychology, he has shown himself to be dedicated to pursuing his interests.

Moreover, in a world that places such a ridiculously high value on material things, Davis dares to set goals for himself that well may not lead to economic prosperity. Not only is he an English major, a class of students that is stereotypically the butt of jokes about such things as homelessness and jobs at fast food restaurants--he also wants to be a writer. Unfortunately, it can be fiendishly difficult to succeed as a writer. Why, the last editor to whom I sent poetry told me something along the lines of “I can find this sort of rubbish on any emo teenager’s Livejournal; I’m not about to pay you for it.” Clearly this is a symptom of the degradation of society. No one recognizes true art anymore. Since Davis seems less depraved than many humans, it is possible that he will also be discriminated against in such a manner, which will make success in his field hard to achieve. Nevertheless, regardless of the potential financial consequences, Davis is still determined to follow his own desires and not conform to those of our sick society.

Incredibly, Davis defies societal norms in yet another way as well: In an increasingly secular world, he is a religious person. My research suggests, in fact, that he is Muslim, which is an even braver stand to take in America’s “Bible Belt.” I may not agree with his views--after all, they assume that there is good in the world and something worth saving in humanity--but I can still respect his courage in holding and admitting them. There is much to be admired in a man who holds firmly to his beliefs and ideals when so many instead are cowardly, unprincipled, and hypocritical.

And now, in conclusion, a word to Davis. I hope that what they say about English majors is not true and that you do not end up working at a place like McDonald’s or Mrs. Lovett’s pie shop, for a man of your caliber deserves more than burger-flipping or dough-rolling. Instead, I hope you achieve your goals and avoid being corrupted by the world--any more than you are already, of course, for no one escapes unscathed, but that is beside the point. Davis Muma, I commend you and wish you well.

Ashes to Ashes, Music and Must

           What a joke a human is! A self-denying paradox, filled with ideas of order, loyalty, respect. What a laugh! What a scam! All it takes is a moment—and poof! Our visions fall to dust. Still, there is something to be said for stubbornness. Oh yes, really, the fun people are those who cling long and hard to their little plans, building them up around them; they scurry around with hopes and dreams and rules. Sometimes they’ll even do things that even I would find… strange. All these things to make the world seem just! Silly! Silly, silly, silly. But fun. Where would I be without them? Where is entropy without the little things that just seem to… fall apart?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Here’s an essay file I found that was written by an ex-associate of mine. I hope you found it as interesting as I did.
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           He is Matthew Kilby, born March 22, 1993: Alabama native, 2011 graduate of Wando High School, now enrolled at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Like many young middle class Americans, he has followed a relatively set path with his education. Compulsory elementary school lead into compulsory middle school. Middle school fed into high school. At a glance, it appears that he is following a path that many others have taken, but it is in the details that he has made his own adjustments. University life has given him an opportunity for choice, a decision to be made, and his decision is paradoxically unique and typical at once. He has chosen to devote much of his life to music. His move would perhaps be considered bold by past generations, requiring self-direction and artistic ambition. But in the context of today’s youth, Matthew instead reflects an ideal growing in popularity and esteem. He represents a generation that is moving towards choosing occupations based on passion rather than professional prospects.
           Matthew has both a love for music and the will necessary to pursue it. A self-described musician, Matthew plays several instruments, including more notably percussion and guitar. As a member of the UNC Wind Ensemble, the university’s Percussion Ensemble, the marching band (in which he plays the snare drum), and a smaller personal band called The Makeshift, Matthew approaches music in many ways. His ambition in music composition along with performance and the diversity of his studies can attest to the variety with which he challenges himself. Although he considers the core of his attraction to music to be its affective ability and its emotional power, which he describes as going beyond storytelling, he certainly does not limit himself to a single mode of appreciating the phenomenon. His personal listening tastes range from contemporary bands like Death Cab for Cutie and Wilco to classics like Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky, and he expresses interest in music of many shapes, including experimental rock. This disposition towards exploring different types of sounds alongside his involvement in several successful musical groups (besides the University’s ensembles, The Makeshift is notable for already having released an album) demonstrates Matthew’s commitment to music.
           Beyond his own interest, Matthew is an exemplar of a broader context. Coming from a music-loving family, Matthew was encouraged to make music a meaningful part of his life. His mother, a pediatrician, and his father, the chief of Infectious Disease at MUSC, play piano and guitar respectively. His younger brother plays the drums. Where in the past Matthew might have faced opposition from medical parents, Matthew has been disposed quite favorably to pursuing the sonorous arts as a career, and he is not alone. He says that many of his best friends are musicians like himself and that he is drawn to other musical people. Many other stories echo his, although he has made his progress his own. He is at once an individual following a personal calling and a manifestation of a changing culture.

Passion vs. Paycheck

Dr. Henry Walton Jr. on College Majors



For many students in College, making the decision of what subject they want to pursue or major in is a substantial obstacle in their study. Many students entering college are undecided at least for their first year of study, and some have trouble deciding even further on down the road. Although it is normal and common to be indecisive about study in college, it can hinder progress if the decision process takes too long. However, many students have an immediate passion for a certain subject, and know what they want to do before their first course. It takes outstanding passion for a student to know what he or she wants to do from a young age, and those who care more about what they are studying are more successful than those who are just settling for something that they don’t have passion for. Think about why you are choosing your majors; maybe Blayne’s passion will inspire you to follow yours. Stay away from Snakes.
-Indy

Blayne Telling sees herself as an author and has since she was 9 years old. When asked about her major, she merely states that, “(My) English Major isn’t a choice. It’s a destiny.” Students like Blayne that are raised to appreciate a certain subject enough to pursue it on their own are more likely to be successful and happy later in life because of their genuine interest in what they do.

Blayne’s English teachers, namely Mrs. Luna, Mrs. Coffey, and Ms. Sloan, inspired her to write a great deal throughout school. At a young age, students are eager for all the information that they can get, and Blayne’s English teachers fostered her desire for learning. But no one inspired Blayne as much as her mother did. Because of a divorce, Blayne’s mother had to take on many more responsibilities, many of which were passed to Blayne. Blayne’s mother even took on multiple jobs to make sure she could look out for her kids. But most influential to Blayne’s writing career, she made sure that Blayne’s childhood was filled with books. Blayne recalls having a bookshelf filled with books in her room even before she could read. In kindergarten, Blayne developed a reputation as the girl that read instead playing with all of the other kids. Blayne’s mother not only surrounded her with ways to learn about English, but showed her daughter how determination is necessary to reach her dreams.

Blayne’s pursuit of her writing career hasn’t been all easy though. In this economy, many students are pressured to study a subject that has a high likelihood of providing employment later in life. An English major, although not as risky as a philosophy major or a music major, doesn’t give as high of a chance for employment after college as a business major would. Blayne, like many other students in her situation, struggled to decide whether she should fearlessly follow her passion or to compromise her dreams to guarantee that she could provide for herself. But a temporary quarter life crisis can inspire meaningful catharsis. Life is a journey to find yourself, and, similarly to the work I do, X never ever marks the spot. Many come to the realization that it is necessary to take risks in order to have a purposeful life.

Blayne’s case presents a new trend in college students. Instead of scrambling to make a decision about her college major, she had the insight to realize that she has already made her decision with her previous actions. What if everyone could be inspired to finding enough courage to follow their passion as their careers? Blayne represents many young people that have decided to break away from the traditional pursuit of white-collar jobs to continue creative growth through studying the arts.