Friday, October 28, 2011

A Tip for Textbook Publishers

We're reading A Streetcar Named Desire in my literary analysis class and I didn't actually purchase the book until now (as opposed to the beginning of the semester). Rather than take the "textbook" version at face value and just buy it, I decided to see if the normal play section in the bookstore had it for cheaper.

Not only was the version I found in the bookstore cheaper, the image on the cover was THIS:

That's right. A shirtless, adorable Marlon Brando. So for $7.99 I get the play AND a hot man? I'lltakeitI'lltakeitI'lltakeitI'lltakeit.

In contrast, my poor clueless classmates all got the version with this cover:

A weird minimalist painting that is clearly harping on the supposed anti-feminist themes. Pshaw. If you can resist the hot masculinity that is Stanley Kowalski, you are clearly a hater of all things wonderful. I don't generally drool over uber-masculine guys, but who could say no to this?

So I was thinking: I would be a lot happier paying the ridiculous fees that textbook companies charge us if I at least got some eye candy while doing so. Not straight out porn, but...

...

Awww, rats. Yeah, there's no way I can redeem that.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Triple Whammy of Awesome

GUESS WHAT!!!!

A) I am a psychic.

B) I'm going to London.

C) I actually like school this year.

D) All of the above.

If you answered D) All of the above, you are correct! You don't actually win anything because of B and its subsequent costs, but maybe I'll give you a massage or do your dishes?

A- I am a psychic:
I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's totally true. I've correctly predicted the following: a brother's mission call, a friend's mission call, and both of my brothers' marriages long before the proposal (as in the first meeting for the one and three years before the other).

This instance isn't quite like the others. I had a dream last night where I married certain someone that I try not to think about ever. The circumstance was that he was being his usual stand-offish, never-wants-anything-to-do-with-me-ever self for days and days of dream time and then trick married me! What the heck? I gave him the what for, but was secretly glad to be united with him for time and all eternity.

Of course, I also dreamed that I was best friends with Zooey Deschanel and that Judy Garland was being held captive in a tree by hostile rednecks, so I pretty much discounted the dream as a whole.

BUT THEN I got a letter from him today in the mail. I haven't opened it yet because of the residual fear from the dream.

B- I'm going to London:
True story! I've wanted to go to London forever and now I'm finally doing it! Why am I going? Because I can, baby. Last winter semester I had the blues in a big way and started looking for inexpensive flights from SLC to London. I signed up for TripAdvisor and one day in August flights were only $900. I was all over that. I called my sister Amy up and she was also all over that because she's also wanted to go to Europe forever.

We leave next Thursday and will be gone for a whole week. Not being tied to a strict itinerary, we're going to run rampant! I may or may not post a report after returning.

C- I actually like school this year:
I know what you're thinking- what's up with that? It's a three part thing. My classes interest me and are smaller, my attitude is better, and I'm finding my niche. And, of course, I have LONDON to look forward to.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Charlotte Russe

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not a big shopper. My mom and sisters particularly know that getting me to go clothes shopping is like taking a crocodile on a walk through a dog run: possible, but exhausting, painful, and most likely ending in tears and/or blood.

HOWever, I have a secret. If I had all the money in the world (or even just spending money in general; curse you, college expenses!), I would shop at Charlotte Russe every day. When I go to the mall, it takes considerable self-control not to get sucked into the whirling vortex of awesome that is Charlotte Russe.

Why Charlotte Russe? Let me tell you a little story. Once upon a time, I was seventeen and got asked on a date by a guy I'd liked for a while. I got it into my head that I had to wear a fantastic outfit for this date, so I went to the mall with a friend in search of the perfect top. We went to every single store--Forever 21, American Eagle, Aeropostale, Old Navy--all for naught. There was nothing that was "me" enough or if I did like it, it cost far beyond my meager earnings.

I was just about to give up when something in the window of Charlotte Russe caught my eye. I can't remember what it was, but I walked in and fell in love with just about everything on display. Everything was so chic, so classy, so bohemian! Nothing was too loud or ripped or neon. It was accessibly trendy.

I picked out a few things that caught my fancy, and then I found the clearance rack. Oh. My. Heavens. I ended up buying my perfect top from the clearance rack: a brown cowl-necked sweater that cost me $3.75. Not only was it cheap, it was good quality! I'm still wearing that sweater three years later and there aren't any holes, frays, or rips. The same goes for my $20 black corsetted-back vest. Good quality, and I can wear it to anything!

As such, I am a huge fan of Charlotte Russe. Not only do they have simple, appealing store layouts, they've got an incredibly fun and flavorful official site as well. If I were to make a fan site, I would have pics of celebrities and regular folk wearing Charlotte Russe apparel. (Yet another thing I love about CR: it looks good on everyone.) I'd have discussion boards where people could post ideas for new products or just discuss their favorite thing they've ever bought there. Maybe there'd be a section where the origins of CR are explained and introduce the owners. Of course there'd be a steady stream of posts to let everyone know what sales and deals are going on currently.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to close my eyes dream of the day when not all my money goes to living expenses so I can buy this and this and these.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Return of the King S03 Ep. 09 (Part 2)

In which Arthur and his crew get beat handily by Children of the Corn.

Category: Arthur and All His Friends (it's a two-fer!) Fail at a Basic Life Skill

Basic Life Skill Failed: Medieval Knowledge

The episode begins with a shot of what appears to be a quaint medieval village. (Which, even though I've been planning to analyze this episode for a week, makes me SUPER EXCITED for the Highland Games and Scottish Festival this weekend! Awwwwww yeah!)

Then the Lakewood bus pulls up and the image is ruined. It becomes apparent that this isn't an old-timey episode from way back in the day, but one where the kids get to go to a medieval fair full of creeps peddling their spurious wares, as well as the occasional awesome Knight of the Templar. But that's okay because this episode is definitely one of my favorites.

Mr. Ratburn leads them off the bus and Buster is immediately drawn to--what else?--the fair's food. A man with flowing blonde locks wearing a kilt is pushing a cart and proclaiming, in the best Scottish accent PBS could afford, "Haggis! Two for a dollar!" Buster writes down this "important information," then turns to Arthur (who I guess would know coz his dad makes weird food?) and asks, "What's haggis?"

(Side note: I've tried haggis. It tastes like nasty, gritty, meaty oatmeal. This dish was made for a kid without taste buds like Buster Baxter.)


Arthur is spared having to answer the question by Mr. Ratburn being distracted by a shiny gold statue of a griffin (which is probably made out of cake or chocolate). Blah blah blah, Arthur thinks his class can win it because they're "the smartest" and "work the hardest," when suddenly an earthquake shakes Elwood City and everyone dies!

Okay, not really, but by, oh, ten-elevenths of the way through the episode, Arthur and his peers are going to wish that's what happened.

No, the earth's rumbling is caused by a handful of uniform`ed children trouncing off their non-traditional white school bus, chanting a menacing song about their school.

Smug and smarmy, Mr. Pryce-Jones, the teacher of the kids from Glenbrook Academy, marches off the bus and up to Ratburn. It turns out that he was Ratburn's third grade teacher and the only reason the golden griffin isn't in his classroom is because Pryce-Jones always takes it home with him.

So it's on. Like Donkey Kong.

While the grownups try to one-up each other, the two groups of kids whisper and point at each other. Having worn both regular clothes and uniforms to school, I have it on good authority that the Lakewood kids immediately hate the Glenbrook students because they're wearing very smart-looking uniforms. The Glenbrook students hate the Lakewood kids because they get to wear whatever they want to school.

But it becomes apparent that if they weren't wearing different clothes, no one would be able to tell the two third-grade classes apart! The Glenbrook kids are *SPOILER ALERT* dopplegangers of the Lakewood kids, the product of an evil scientist gone mad with DNA samples!

Although...to be honest, if the Arthur animators had a wider repertoire, this would be more impressive.


Anyway, here's Arthur's doppleganger. Bam!

Francine's evil twin! She even has the same weird barrettes!

Muffy's dead ringer. Kind of. They have the same hair, so I'm assuming they look exactly alike.

The Brain's doppleganger. This one is a stretch. By the way The Brain reacts (a violent gasp), you'd think they looked exactly alike. Here's a hint, The Brain: you don't look remotely similar because you have no distinguishing features besides your intelligence and lavender sweater. Zing!

And the last of the main characters' doubles, the Buster "look-alike." No buck teeth, no rabbit ears. Just an eerie knack for putting away pies.

Anyhow, the Glenbrook kids whoop the heinies of the Lakewood kids in a maze challenge because they have Arthur, who can't figure out what "Hie thee hence" means, try to find his way through an uncomplicated maze. Ratburn even tells him to "use his head." Poor, dumb Arthur thinks that means to rip through the maze's cloth walls with his swollen noggin. They lose and Francine is sent to collect Arthur's remains.

The Sword in the Stone makes a cameo and Arthur returns to it several more times, convinced that he can figure out the trick.

Francine faces her dead ringer in a suction-cup archery match. And loses. (Because the Glenbrook girl slathers her arrow with spit and it knocks Francine's out of the bulls-eye. That doesn't work, btw. I tried it many a time with my dollar store archery set.)

The Lakewood kids lose a tug-of-war because the Glenbrook kids use leverage or whatever.

Arthur, Buster, Muffy, and Francine lounge on a picnic table near the lake after washing off the mud from the tug-of-war. (Where are the parent chaperons? This thing was created when I was a kid, and I most definitely had parent chaperons. Like, one for every five kids.) Mr. Ratburn comes up and tells them that Mr. Pryce-Jones is one of the best teachers private education could provide, teaching kids Latin in third grade (no one learns Latin in school anymore, especially not grade school). Mr. Ratburn muses out loud that he's not a "tough enough" teacher and the kids are horrified that they'll actually be competently taught. Quelle horror!


They take a break from the competition so they can eat a medieval lunch and the Glenbrook kids can mock the ignorance of what is supposed to be the brightest class at Lakewood. These mini-adults have clearly been bred without any normal emotions whatsoever. Mr. Pryce-Jones taunts Mr. Ratburn's teaching abilities because his (Ratburn's) third graders don't know the 42 English kings. (He has a whole 20 minute song.)

Heck, most third graders don't know the 44 presidents of the United States!

Arthur and his gang hope to high heaven that there's something at this fair they can win so Mr. Ratburn won't get even tougher. They think Buster can win the mincemeat pie eating contest, but then Glenbrook pulls out its most impressive victory of the day. Buster's doppleganger isn't just a mindless eating machine; he knows about the science of eating. He's been preparing for this contest weeks in advance. So Buster gets handed his butt on a medieval pie plate.

The Brain plays some weird trivia game and gets p'nwed because he doesn't give the answers that were correct in the Middle Ages. He does not win a sheep, as advertised in the wheel below.

Muffy loses a tennis match to her double. AND gets her heritage dissed. Turns out that Other Braid Girl is related to Henry V, a sore spot to Muffy because her family is a first generation of social climbers with no blue blood at all. Ouch, girl!

And finally, there is a collective failure at the castle building contest. Lakewood loses points for creativity and Glenbrook Academy wins.

After losing every contest, Buster finally admits his emotional eating. He asks if anyone else wants to get something to eat and Francine incredulously bursts "But you just ate six pies!" To which Buster responds, "I feel empty inside," with a haunted look on his pale, furry face.

It turns out, though, that the rules of the overall golden griffin competition was written in garglemesh (or is that Arabic?), so the Lakewood kids didn't ever have a chance to begin with.

Arthur somehow figures out how to get the sword out of the stone and is crowned King of the Medieval Fair. Mr. Pryce-Jones congratulates Mr. Ratburn on teaching such a free-thinking boy, which I can only take to mean that Pryce-Jones is as sarcastic as they come. Arthur? Free-thinking? Good heavens, "Arthur" is Latin for "conformity."

Ratburn is not replaced by Pryce-Jones, nor does he become "tougher," much to the disadvantage of his students. Where will they be in twenty years? In dead end jobs, slaving away their youth for a soon to be extinct floppy disk firm. Where will the Glenbrook kids be? Microsoft. Google. Yale.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Dad's Dessert Dilemma S03 Ep. 07 (Part 2)

Arthur deserves its own blog post. My older brother directed me to a blog where the writer analyzed older episodes of Arthur, and I thought it was stinking hilarious. But the writer stopped after four posts over a year ago, so I'm totally stealing the idea and her three main categories. They are as follows.

1. Arthur Fails at a Basic Life Skill.
2. One of Arthur's Friends Fails at a Basic Life Skill.
3. D.W. is a Huge Witch.

I thought they were pretty accurate, as were the character descriptions which I have mostly copied from her, but edited at my discretion. I do not claim to be this clever.

* Arthur Read: Arthur is an eight-year old aardvark with a big heart, even bigger glasses, and some serious anxiety issues. Seriously, the guy gets worked up about everything. Nearly every episode involves Arthur freaking out about some minor issue and working himself into a kind of demented frenzy over it. These issues invariably have a very simple solution, but as Arthur really isn't very bright, he usually fails to figure this out until the last two minutes of the episode. His voice breaks about twenty-seven times over the course of the series.

* Buster Baxter: Arthur's best friend, Buster is a kind-hearted, if hyperactive, rabbit child. He is dorky, awkward and seems to have some sort of severe ADHD. Buster's parents are both completely inept, and he compensates for their lack of attention by telling outlandish stories and stress eating. Every now and then, Buster is randomly written out of the show so that he can go visit his absentee father.

* Francine Frensky: Francine Frensky is Arthur's other best friend. She seems to be some sort of Jewish monkey-like creature and has a natural talent for sports, music, and being a huge witch.

* Muffy Crosswire: The Blair Waldorf of the Art
hur universe, Muffy, like Francine, appears to be some kind of monkey-thing. She is vain, cruel, self-centered and just generally unpleasant, but everyone puts up with her so that they can use her indoor swimming pool.

* Alan "The Brain" Powers: So, Arthur's an aardvark, Buster's a bunny...What the frak is The Brain? According to the PBS website he's an African-American bear cub, but as far as I'm concerned, the jury's still out on that one. Whatever the heck he is, The Brain is pompous, pretentious, and refuses to respond to any name other than "The Brain."

* Binky Barnes: Binky is a mildly sociopathic bulldog who randomly switches between being Arthur's close friend and Arthur's arch nemesis. Somewhat dim, Binky is quite possibly the tallest nine year old in history. He is also the reigning school bully, but he'd be a lot more terrifying if he didn't tuck his shirt into his pants.

* D.W. Read: D.W. is Arthur's little sister. She looks to be about four years old, but her real age is a major continuity problem for the writers. She is also a giant witch. And it's not just regular witchiness. D.W. legitimately seems to have a serious personality disorder. When not tormenting Arthur, being a snot to her friends or causing her baby sister bodily harm, D.W. can usually be found throwing a violent tantrum or talking to invisible people. (Becca here; I actually think D.W. is the funniest character on the show, but she does have issues.)

Without further ado, the first analysis.

Dad's Dessert Dilemma
In which Arthur takes pride in something that has little to do with him and Elwood City has a serious sugar addiction

Category: Arthur Fails at a Basic Life Skill
Basic Life Skill Failed: Having skills in general

The show begins with Mr. Read dashing the fourth wall by asking the audience if we're looking for Arthur. He proceeds to call for his firstborn (which is fruitless because he's out baking in his kitchen/garage or kitchenage and no one can hear him) and when Arthur doesn't respond, he assumes he's doing homework.


We, as the audience, dearly wish that that was the case. Instead, we are treated to a camera shot of Arthur shoving weird-looking cookies into his allegedly aardvark face as fast as his hands can move from plate to mouth, complete with revolting sound effects.


He ends up pouring the cookies in when his hands fail to keep up with his disgusting appetite. Mr. Read, I think it's safe to say that we are NOT looking for Arthur anymore and would rather stay out here in the kitchenage, curled up in fetal position.

But it turns out that hanging out with Mr. Read is only marginally better than hanging out with his son. He immediately launches into a lament as to how he's persecuted for his bold culinary innovations. In a flashback we see cinnamon toast souffle which deflates as it comes out of the toaster (not bad), chunky pudding balls (which look exactly the same as the cookies Arthur was snarfing not three seconds ago, so I don't know what he's all grossed out about), and Cranberry Prune Crumble (which actually sounds gross).

Arthur bursts in on this soliloquy (probably to steal more cookies or maybe eat straight brown sugar), but the minute his dad asks him to try something, he's gone. Mr. Read sits there, stunned, and we cut to the title card so we don't see a grown up animated aardvark cry into his manly apron.

Mr. Ratburn mentions that tomorrow is Galileo's birthday and that by way of celebration they'll be studying his theory of the solar system. Binky immediately raises his hand and proposes that they have a birthday party, and Buster, of course, demands that everyone bring cake and ice cream for him...for them to eat. "Cake" then becomes Mr. Ratburn's buzzword for the rest of the show. Once the idea is approved, (after gasping in shock) the kids begin volunteering their parents' food services.

Arthur rushes home and tells his mom that she has to meet his demands or he'll be a failure at life. Hardly fazed, Mrs. Read glances away from her dinosaur computer for long enough to tell him that she's busy, darnit, and that he should go ask his dad. Mr. Read pops out of nowhere, wearing his tear-stained apron (which I guess he wears everywhere?) and jumps at the opportunity to make his son like him. Arthur rejects the offering of affection by saying that he doesn't want anything "weird." Mr. Read laughs this off and goes back to his kitchenage for more crying. His mom assures Arthur that the dessert will be very unique and Arthur displays his closed-mindedness for all the world to see by saying "That's what I'm afraid of."

Being open to out-of-the-norm things is bad, kids. In fact, write that down. "Unique = bad." Got it? Good.


Mr. Read unveils the cake, which is WICKED SWEET. Seriously, Arthur? Seriously? He mopes off, sure that he'll get set on fire or ostracized or something for bringing a KICK-BUTT CAKE to a class party. (He has one of his fantasies where everyone hates him and his cake and even Buster won't eat it... Yeah, I've seen Buster lick a seven year old ham bone and eat a fifty year old sandwich. Not likely, dude.)

He hides it under a box when he gets to school and when Buster demands to see what his sugary homage is, mumbles something with his mouth full of cookie. Mr. Ratburn uses his superior cake finding skills, uncovers it, and everyone thinks it's an awesome and delicious cake. Arthur then realizes that he can use his dad in order to gain popularity, something he will never be able to accomplish on his own. Ever.

He volunteers his dad to make desserts for all sorts of mundane school functions. And Mr. Ratburn shows up at all of them, under the guise of "dropping off the spring reading list." It makes me kind of sad, actually. I want to sit him down and say, "Nigel, you don't have to hide your addiction. And you're invited to most of these functions, so it's okay to go eat some of that without having an excuse. It's what cake is FOR."

Arthur gets a big head (which is particularly irritating because he has nothing to do with his dad's desserts) and becomes drunk with popularity. As such, he gets threatened by Brain's mom bringing extra ice cream to school that would've gone to waste otherwise. He hurries home, intent on cracking the whip harder on his slacker dad, and his mom tells him to chill out.

It turns out that Arthur's madness is causing Mr. Read to fall behind on his work and Mr. Crosswire (who's at least three times more of a jerk than Muffy) is tres upset at him. While Arthur is trying to process this outside the kitchenage, D.W. comes along, realizes that Arthur's insanity will be their ruin, and begins inflicting bodily harm.

Mr. Read, smelling blood, comes out, somehow gets his kids to help him with Mr. Crosswire's order, and all is good in the city of Elwood.

Aaaaand Mr. Ratburn comes around to the kitchenage to "drop off the spring reading list," feigns surprise at the presence of cake, and follows Mr. Crosswire home to whatever swanky party he's throwing for himself (because no one else is good enough for the Crosswires).

Kids' Shows

I watched a lot of public television growing up because A) we didn't have cable and B) it made me hecka smart. So I grew up with such classics Barney, Sesame Street, Puzzle Place, and Arthur.

Who knew that when I grew up (read: when my body had partially caught up with old spirit) I would be getting paid to watch PBS? I currently have a job at BYU Broadcasting (which will one day get me an ins with the BBC and then I can meet Claire Foy and all my dreams will come true) as a canary in the mine. I sit there, eyes glued to the screen(s), and the minute something goes wrong, I tell someone else to fix it via email or by hollering at my supervisors. Sometimes I have the resources to fix it myself, but these are rare occasions.

Anyway, the shifts I have this semester are for KBYU during the day. Which means six solid hours of kids' shows. Guess what I've begun doing? Yep, that's right. Analyzing TV shows written for (by?) children.

It's not all that bad, actually. There are some pretty solid shows out there. Arthur, Word Girl, and Martha Speaks are generally pretty enjoyable. However, I end up thinking about things way too much.

Like Super Why!, a show that airs when I'm not working but I saw plenty the last nine months. As far as teaching kids letters and values at the same time, it's not too shabby. But I have one major complaint.

Okay, count the (comparatively) human main characters with me.


From left to right, Wonder Red, Super Why, and Princess Presto. Three. Three out of the four main characters are humans. Which character got the catchphrase of "Let's give ourselves a big thumbs up!"?


That's right, good ol' Alpha Pig, who's got little trotters. The writers had three choices when it came to divvying out that catchphrase, and they gave it to the pig. *sigh*

Next on my agenda is Clifford the Big Red Dog. Who didn't think that a huge dog would be the coolest thing ever when they were younger? Hey, maybe you think that now. I'm not hatin'. But as you get older you start thinking things like "Holy Hannah, how do they FEED that monstrosity? Don't the Howards own an antique shop or something like that? How can they afford that sort of budget strain? Do they feed him criminals from the mainland?" and "Okay, maybe Emily Elizabeth chose Clifford because he was the step-headed red child runt of his litter and she felt bad for him, but maybe her parents were on board with the whole dog thing because he was so small. And then--irony!--they ended up with the biggest dog in the whole world. Man, they must be hating life." and "Yep. Cleaning up after him would suck. I don't understand how Emily Elizabeth can still love him."

But the thing that gets me every time is this image in the theme song.


At first you think "Lolz, a dog with his head sticking out of a building!" And then as you watch it day after day after day after day you think, "Hold on. The tail thing I can fathom. His tail is probably small enough to stick out one of those generic windows. But there is no way his head could fit through one of those. According to the theme song, he grew at a freakish rate, so maybe he stuck his head out the window to smell some of the fetid stenches that accompany city life and BAM! Enormous Clifford head! But I'm erring on the side of more gradual growth. So...what? The Howards, upon realizing that they'd been scammed by that puppy vendor, made Clifford stick his head out the window until he reached his peak size? How did they even get him out of there to move to Birdwell Island?"

Don't even get me started on Curious George. Sometimes I have to turn the volume down on that show because it makes me so anxious.

"Be a good little monkey!" The man in the yellow hat says. "And make sure to have Einstein's theory of relativity debunked by the time I get home!" He might as well add.

George hoots something incomprehensible then proceeds to *SPOILER ALERT* get into all sorts of trouble. I'm not going to dwell on that, however, or this post is going to become more of a manifesto.

What really bothers me is how he only has to say "Ooh ooh ah!" and maybe make some vague gesture and everyone knows what he's saying.

"Oh, you think that the British monarchy is a tired old tradition that ought to give way to the ministry?" says the man in the yellow hat, stroking his chin.

George chatters excitedly at being understood so perfectly. He then turns to Bill, one of the dumbest smart characters on the show, and hoots something while standing on his hands.

"You want to build a raft made entirely from pineapples?" says Bill, who for some reason thinks that all people who live in the city are monkeys and calls George "City Kid."

George screeches "Ahhh!" and gets his stash of pineapples out from under his bed.

And George never suffers the consequences of his actions. Someone always comes along and bails him out, therefore enabling him to continue with his ridiculous antics. I'm still waiting for the episode where George is curious as to why he can't dry his fur while in the tub. Where is your man in the yellow hat now, electrocuted monkey?

But then I realize that I could be watching Teletubbies or Boo Bah, and I shut my brain off and enjoy the relative coherency.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Oh, the controversy

Lately there's been a bit of a hoopla about the Brandon Davies scandal at my school. For all you who don't know (I myself only have a vague idea of anything that occurs on my campus), Brandon Davies was a fairly proficient member of the basketball team and got booted off for violating the Honor Code (yes, capitals are necessary) by way of self-confessed pre-marital sexual intercourse.

The collective Mormon reaction has been somewhat divided; some people say it's bad publicity for the church, some say it's good publicity for the church, some respect him for his willingness to come forward and confess, and some say "good riddance, sinner!"

The rest of the country (coz let's be honest; Mormons make up less than 1.98% of the population here) has been similarly torn. Some say we're archaic in our beliefs, some say it's good to see a college sticking by its rules, etc etc.

So that's the basic back story. It hasn't really affected me much except it's been all over my school's paper, my friends' Facebook statuses, and whatnot.

I was watching the Weekend Update on Saturday Night Live (my only real contact with current events) and lo and behold, there was that story. Again. Here's what Seth Meyers had to say:

A member of the Brigham Young University basketball team has been suspended for the rest of the season for violating the school's honor code by having pre-marital sex. The player says he feels terrible, but has a pretty good idea how he's gonna cheer himself up. (laughter from the audience)

And instead of feeling outraged and indignant, I just felt...amused. Amused in a sad sort of way. People just don't get the gravity of sexual sin. There's a great talk by Elder Holland called "Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments." Messing with procreative powers and bringing souls into this world without proper authority is just as harmful as taking souls out of it unbidden. Even with protection, it's a communion, a sacred act used to bring man and wife closer to each other and God.

Anyway, that's all. I feel blessed to have this knowledge and to go to a school where it's the norm.