The Most Quotable Man at the College

This past semester I took an Express Course with the Honorable Judge Alex Sanders, former president of the College of Charleston and South Carolina Supreme Court Justice. The course was Law and Society and beyond the information covered in the class (primarily contracts) Judge Sanders provided life lessons and a bit of hysterical commentary on everything from Chinese cuisine to a website that allows students to rate their professors. Throughout the duration of the half-semester course I compiled only a small collection of his most quotable moments and would like to share them here chronologically as the course progressed, along with a brief description giving the context of each of his enlightening thoughts and tid-bits.

Judge Sanders missed the first two meetings of the class because he was abroad visiting China. Upon our first official meeting with him he described an exchange between him and his state-appointed guide, where Judge Sanders inquired about the caged dogs on the back of rural Chinese bikes. His guide simply replied with, "We eat everything with four legs except the table."

Continuing our class' introduction to Law and Society, Judge Sanders went through the requirements of the course. The most important being that all students MUST attend each and every class. At this point he drew upon the motto for football team of little-known college in North Carolina by the name of Slippery Rock College. "We play hurt." In regards to our class, this meant we were expected to be in class even if sick or suffering from some other ailment. Not sure how conducive this is to keeping Charleston's student body healthy, but no one missed a class.

A couple class meetings later Judge Sanders offered his first of two life-lessons. His "Guarantees for Success in Life."

1. Show up every time

2. Show up on time

3. Show up ready to work

These steps to success were given their due attention by me and the others as there was rarely a late student to our twice-weekly meetings with Judge Sanders. Ironically, on the rare occasion I wear a hat, let alone backwards, he offered this unofficial guaranty, "Don't wear a hat backwards." I promptly turned my ball-cap around for the rest of this particular course, and retired it for the rest of the semester.

Part of the course required us to write a ten-page "Issue Paper," which we were assigned topics like abortion, the legalization of marijuana, universal healthcare, and my topic the death penalty. In the class periods leading up to our paper's due date Judge Sanders held class discussions on each topic. Judge Sanders' comment on this exercise is as follows, "This is not tiddilywinks, this is hand-to-hand combat." Particularly because no matter your position on any topic, the Judge would rip you to shreds by offering a razor-sharp counterpoint, easily demoralizing most students, including myself. Practice law for a couple centuries and you probably get pretty good at finding flaws in any reasoning.

This semester the College made the green decision to rid itself of paper course evaluations and offered them exclusively online. Judge Sanders cared little about our completion of the formal, College administered evaluations, as he prefers the informal evaluation system knows as ratemyprofessor.com. "Rate My Professor, I wish y'all would use that one...add to my collection of chili peppers." Since I've never made use of the site, I'm assuming chili peppers mean a positive course evaluation and that the Judge has acquired quite a few of them.

Here are Judge Sanders' "Three Things to Do to NOT Be Poor."

1. Graduate from high school

2. Don't get married until you're 21

3. Don't have a baby until you're married

I appreciate the advice given by Judge Sanders as I can cross two of these off the list, but I feel some of these requirements can be updated. But he did mention these are simply things to do to not be poor, not being poor does not mean being successful or rich.

Considering Judge Sanders is an older fella' he had quite a lot to say when it came time to discuss universal healthcare and how it applies to senior citizens. He offered this personal sentiment on healthcare in general, "There is a certain indignity in going to the doctor." Apparently he proscribes to a personal wellness program in spite of Medicare and Medicaid. However, as an after thought he gives particularly funny example of American healthcare's offerings to the elderly, "You need a scooter? Call and get ya one, its FREE...I ought to get me a scooter."

Despite his requirement to be at class for each meeting, Judge Sanders told one student who couldn't make a post-Thanksgiving session because of a flight cancellation, "You didn't miss a damn thing." Well, if thats how you feel, Judge, why have such a strict attendance policy? He favors females, and under a similar circumstance for a male student, I feel this quote could have easily been, "You missed everything, come back next semester and try again."

Although this last quote happened only three-quarters through the course, I feel it bears the most importance as the class-time with the Judge was by far the most pleasurable I've had in my three and a half years at the College. "Remember everything I told you, you'll be better off."

Blogalajara Revisited: Andares to Angahuan

I have been running through ideas for a new post, but my brain is sludge from the last week of LSAT and exam preparations, so I decided to repost an entry from my Mexico-Summer-Blog, Blogalajara. It documents a two day adventure from the lavish stylings of the Andares shopping plaza in Guadalajara to the indian village Angahuan, noting the stark tangible and philosophical disparities between modern and indigenous peoples, as well as some other fascinating facets of Mexican culture that are not commonly known.

Once I had overcome my stomach illness Thursday afternoon I found myself at the modern shopping plaza of Andares, not far from the high rises mentioned in an earlier post. I must continue to hark upon the central theme of my entries. That being the noticeable contrast I have come to find in Mexican culture. Andares is full of high-end boutiques, shops, and restaurants I was not expecting to see before this adventure began. While surrounding neighborhoods can be considered the bane of capitalism, Andares represents all that is lavish and luxurious in such an economic system. With its upper echelon patrons strutting their stuff in the latest in hip fashions, the shopping plaza exudes anything but what first comes to mind at the thought of Mexico; heavily armed drug cartels and police, murder, illegal immigration, landscapers, so on and so forth. While trying to capture all of this, with my broken screened Samsung L100 digital camera, I was told by a security officer, who had been notified by the security office watching the plaza via CCTV, that anymore picture taking would result in the confiscation of my camera. He was carrying a twelve-gauge shotgun with plenty of ammo around his waist. Needless to say, I eagerly complied without trying to snap a shot of him or anything else. So, I must do with those I was fortunate enough to get.

From Andares I turn my often-fleeting attention to the village of Angahuan (Ann-ga-wan). It is a community of an indigenous Indian population found a four-hour’s journey away from Guadalajara in the State of Michoacan. I was invited to observe the village by Dr. Rosario Athie, a professor of philosophy at Universidad Panamericana (UP), during my orientation last week. She has made numerous visits to Angahuan over the past seven years and has made many friends in the village as she has a personal interest in preserving their way of life, one that contrasts furthermore from that of the stylish shoppers found at Andares. The car ride alone, once off the main highway leading from Guadalajara to Mexico City, was a sight to behold. Amidst tree covered hills, mountains, and volcanoes kissing or sitting above the clouds I found that the curves meandering through the landscape could easily be the setting of the next commercial for Audi or BMW’s latest sport sedan. Wild flowers litter the valleys where volcanoes’ abrupt protrusion and flat tops discern them from the surrounding topography while towns along the route have donkeys and dogs roaming as they please through their dirt covered streets. In the car, Dr. Rosario played one of her favorite artists, Enya, and I could not help but sense the harmony between music and surrounding. I also had to share that Enya was a favorite of my Mother. Her reply was that “we are probably of the same generation.” I immediately concurred.

Once in Angahuan, Dr. Athie and I had a lunch of shredded steak, vegetables, rice, and beans at one of the two local hotels. Afterwards I was introduced to a guide and a horse that would take me to the ruins of a Church located in the valley directly below Angahuan’s current location. The village use to occupy the area around the Church but the eruption of a volcano in 1943 has turned the town’s previous location into a lava field and all that remains are the relics of this Church. The ride by horse took about an hour and a half each way and I had little directing to do as my horse seemed to know the trail quite well. The now long-solidified lava fields gave the impression of being on a distant planet and the only thing Earthly about the area was the Church’s structure and the intermittent greenery making it’s way through small crevices in the grey rock.

After climbing around the uneven and sharp lava rock, Chavez, my seventeen-year-old guide, and I made our way back up the hill. I was able to gather, as he spoke no English apart from “ready?”, and my rudimentary Spanish, that the black dirt that comprised large parts of the trail has maintained this hue since the immersion of the area in volcanic ash more than sixty years ago.

Back in town, I met up with Dr. Athie at the home of family who she has grown fond from her visits. I was greeted with odd looks from the younger children and the utmost kindness from the mother of the family, who filled me with a mint-like tea, bread balls filled with chili, homemade cheese, and a broth based soup whose only notable flavor I could discern was cilantro. One of the girls in the family would return with us to Guadalajara, Dr. Athie has acquired a scholarship for her and two other girls that would join us at a technical school in Guadalajara. It must be noted that the newest addition to this family, a cute and plump baby girl, has been named Rosario in honor of Dr. Athie. Rightfully, Dr. Athie was and is extremely flattered and proud of the gesture. Once my appetite was completely satiated, Dr. Athie wanted to meet with another friend in the village, the local parish priest. I was invited to join but declined on account of my poor standing with the Catholic Faith and decided to spend my time sitting and making friends with little children in the town square (Alberto y Humbierto). I did however accompany Dr. Athie to a meeting with the proprietors of the local school, formerly the town hospital. The conversation consisted of Dr. Athie’s suggestion that less funds should be dedicated to ensuring the Chapel on the school grounds be well decorated with fresh flowers for the Virgin Mary. Her proposal was that these funds would be better suited to help feed the elderly and less fortunate in the community and the main point of her argument was that the Virgin would agree and it seemed those in charge of the allocation of funds agreed, as well.

As it is in Angahuan, family is first and community is a close second in terms of importance in the hearts and minds of the people. Needs are met in that unselfish order. One lives one’s life with that in mind. Families do hold their own property but the resources of that property are allocated to support the community as necessary. Aesthetically speaking, the community prefers a more traditional way of life. Women dress in bright dresses and tops and because of the cool temperatures are generally draped a type of scarf that can double to carry a young child or other commodities such as groceries. Horseback has been maintained as a preferred source of transportation and children whose legs cannot reach the foot holsters of saddle masterfully ride up and down the rock or dirt covered streets. It may seem primitive that some to many houses are unequipped with indoor plumbing and electricity, but such modern amenities ultimately mean little to the people. It is a way of life based upon the qualitative not the quantitative, it is what one has not how much of it, and as long as the family is able to live and the community maintained all are happy. Time is of little importance in the town as meetings are arranged after events as opposed to a number on a clock.

As I went to sleep that night to the chants in the native tongue of Perhepechan that resound from loudspeakers dotted throughout the village I had to be thankful for the opportunity to see such a place. I had no idea what time it was when I arose to the same chants that put me to sleep, but I did feel a sense of disappointment knowing that I was returning to a world where quantitative measures rule. Dates and obligations strictly set by the numbers on my watch, my cell phone being the crux of my existence, social standing holding a near top priority in my life, and the amount of money I possess controlling every ability I have.

A Wolf Pack of One

Since the only applicant for my assistant-intern position was shamefully under-qualified, sorry Nana, I have decided the lack of applicants and interest is a sign that I should take on all of my endeavors as a Lone Wolf.

In many ways I am happy my job posting elicited so few responses. I now have the courage and confidence to face all forthcoming challenges alone, without the help of some lowly intern. I feel meeting these obstacles and conquering them without aid will develop my personal problem solving skill-set and instill the qualities necessary for me to be a "self made man."

I have been told "two heads are better than one," but the more I think about it and hypothetically apply this notion to my having an interning assistant, I disagree. Having another keep track of my schedule and many professional, educational, and social obligations would have likely resulted in an overall decline in focus. I take great pride on being aware of my appointments and my ability to find time to complete tasks and assignments by their required deadlines. An assistant keeping track of this for me would have led my mind to wander and provided unwanted down time.

"You guys may not know this, but I consider myself…a bit of a loner. I tend to think of myself as a one man wolf pack." Thanks Allan (Zach G. in the Hangover, in case you've been living in a cave) for this quote. Although it is taken completely out of context, since I have decided to run through the desert alone and not in a pack of four, I still derive a great deal of inspiration from these words. Excuse me while I hunt solitarily.

Apology and Job Posting

To my three dedicated followers, my parents, and the four other people who read this, I'm sorry for my lack of diligence in upkeep of the Pitts Post-Gazette. I know it has been quite some time since I have posted an entry and that anticipation for my latest piece is high. The primary reason for the lag in posts is my outrageously busy schedule. Between exams, making sure I show up to class, my two (yes, two!) highly distinguished internships, and maintaining my social standing as being "the man" around campus, I have found it extremely difficult to be as prolific as I initially desired.

With that being said, I have made a position available for one lucky individual to be my interning assistant. Like most internships pay will NOT be monetary, but rather in the form of perks, I will get to these later. The required skills and qualifications to being my assistant are as follows: a cumulative GPA of 4.0 (unofficial transcript must be provided at time of interview), highly motivated, extremely organized, have a valid driver's license (you will be driving me to class, work, and social functions), willing to work eight days a week (if I do it, you do it), proficient ironing skills (I refuse to walk around with wrinkled pants, shirts, underwear, and socks), can shine shoes, and must be presentable (I can't have my image tarnished because of my assistant).

Now, the perks involved in working alongside me: immediate rise in status by mere association, my assistant will be allowed to take the last drags of my Camel Lights, as well as the last sips of my SmartWaters, unlimited packages of Lance crackers, the availability of doing laundry when doing mine (loads divided 75% mine, 25% assistant's, and I will provide the detergent), and the guarantee that I will write an outstanding, and highly recognized, recommendation at the end of tenure.

Applicants can send their resume directly to my gmail account. From there I will decide those candidates most qualified and interviews will follow. Good luck potential assistants. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.

Throwin' Down with Big Boi at the Yorktown

Last night Patriots Point lit up with the very much-anticipated Big Boi and MSTRKRFT show. Reggae and dancehall group Dub Island, which I missed because no cabs were available, and a solo act by the name of Jake Troth preceded the two headlining acts. I was able to catch the last four songs by Troth, and personally they were garbage—Sam Sparro without the talent. Throughout the crowd that was eagerly building for Big Boi there were muddles of “Who the hell is this guy?”

Although he didn’t close the Throwdown, Big Boi was definitely the main attraction, which was made evident by the crowd’s zealous response when he appeared on stage, wearing black head-to-toe, highlighted by some tasteful shades and a couple chains. Blackowned C-Bone and DJ Swiff were alongside providing the supplemental MC skills and beats, respectively. Both of which have been with OutKast since the early days.

The show itself was nothing short of an absolute crowd pleaser with Big Boi and C-Bone strutting across the stage, seeming like the coolest guys on the planet (I came to find out after the show, they are). In front of the stage it was a hot mess, the overwhelmingly Caucasian mass doing their best to get their hip-hop on, and Big Boi took notice. After the show he mentioned, “everyone [was] enjoyin’ the show,” humble, because there was energy for weeks in that crowd. The show featured some OutKast favorites including “Bombs Over Baghdad,” “So Fresh, So Clean,” and “Ms. Jackson,” on all of which C-Bone did Andre 3000 justice. Since it was a Big Boi show the set list included “Kryptonite,” a Purple Ribbon All Stars Track, and Boi’s latest solo single “Shutterbug.”

After the set, thanks to my good pal Monik hookin' it up with an all access press pass, I was able to kick it on the bus with Big Boi, C-Bone, and Swiff. Needless to say, we're all best bros now and we've been Tweeting @eachother all day. Got to know the guys a little better, the tour takes them to Europe next week, so I was like, "Yo, Antwan (Big Boi and I are on a first name basis) hit me with your #1 European chill spot." He takes a second, mulls it over, then BOOM, Mallorca! At that moment I knew I would spend the rest of my life striving to achieve the move-makin,' ballin' machine status of my Boi 'Twan. After that I was like, "Yo Swiff, same question, playa." He laid it down real smooth saying he loved London for the Victoria & Albert museum and that he was a huge fan of Van Gogh and Amsterdam. A 45-minute discussion on post-impressionist art ensued. I would have asked C-Bone the same question, but he was in the back of the bus gettin' his grown man on, also I needed to check out the rest of the Throwdown.

The night's closer was Canadian electro-duo MSTRKRFT. To classify their brand of electronic music I would describe it as the grimiest house music ever, and I mean that in the best way possible. Just as an aside, I asked Big Boi what he thought of MSTRKRFT and he had never heard of them. Anyways if Boi, Bone, and Swiff didn’t already get the crowd moving, Jesse and Alex made it happen, creating a sweaty dance party beneath strobe lit trees. The last time I saw MSTRKRFT their entire set was composed of hitting buttons, twisting knobs, vicious head bobs, rips of Crown straight from the bottle, and the duo blasting cigarettes throughout. What set this show apart was they had a few beers next to their Macbooks—awesome.

Booze Infused Energy

As a student, I am well aware of popularity and prevalence of alcohol infused energy drinks. They’re everywhere, and understandably so, they are cheap, effective, and they allow the consumer to Go, Go, Go, into the wee hours of the night. But now these drinks have come under scrutiny from major media outlets, nutritionists, and pharmacology experts because of their questionable, and unknown contents. This is primarily due to reports of widespread abuse and injury by students across the country.

And its not just alcoholic beverages like Four Loko that are being looked into, all energy drinks are being examined for their potential health hazards. Yesterday I was watching a program on ESPN that covered a story of a high school football player who had a seizure after drinking two cans of the Coca-Cola produced NOS. In the sports world, athletes at all levels use these “legal performance-enhancing drugs.”

So what is it about these things that make them so damn potent? Because it is more relevant to my immediate experience I’m going to concentrate on those drinks that contain alcohol. In Four Loko, which is made by Phusion Projects, there are four main ingredients (hence the name): taurine, gaurana, caffeine, and the college crowd pleaser, booze. Taurine is a naturally occurring amino acid that is used in just about every energy drink out there and touted as a physiological performance enhancer, but there has been little scientific evidence to offer validity to this claim, not to mention there is so little in the drinks that its presence is more marketing strategy than anything else. Guarana is caffeine-containing berry found in South America. The gaurana seed has twice the amount of caffeine of coffee. Companies like guarana because it masks the actual amount of caffeine in their products. I doubt many drinkers out there are aware of gaurana’s effect, who knows they may not be concerned.

Essentially with these drinks you are getting the best of both worlds, with the most bang for your buck. You’re able to get drunk fast, most alcoholic energy beverages, coming in flashy 24 ounce cans, contain 6-12% abv, depending on the state you live, and you’re able to be inebriated while maintaining a high level of energy. They hark on two of the foremost desires in a college student’s mind, and the marketing strategy is a synch, the product sells itself by combining two beverages regularly consumed by the most viable demographic out there—18-24 year olds are always looking “for that next big thing”—even if its dangerous and unhealthy, because at this point we think we’re invincible.

Personally, I’m not a fan of alcoholic energy drinks. I find them to be tacky in appearance and to alter age-old adage, “you are what you drink.” As it is these drinks have come represent group of primarily underage drinkers who are in market for a cheap thrills and a “blackout in a can,” with their neon dyed lips and tongues they make for an excellent advertising street team.

Gazette Gets Serious

What I have seen through the recession is this, I know my parents and the parents of my peers of the same socioeconomic class lost money in some way in the stock, bond, and free markets through loss of business, but I personally don’t know anyone who has lost a job. I hear and read of unfortunate cases of foreclosures on families whose husband has been spending the better part of the last two years submitting one application after another, and if one is accepted, it is often for a job they are overqualified, one that doesn’t earn the means necessary to support their pre-recession lifestyle, let alone one that supports a family.

In my immediate situation what was lost due to unethical lenders and banker, and greedy gamblers in our free market is my future security and investment opportunities. The money held in various stocks, bonds, and mutual funds that (for example was intended for law school) have been significantly diminished and the same goes for what would have been made available after my parents passing, I don't intend to sound insensitive, just realistic.

Keeping in line with that same thought and my potential and future holdings, let us consider our stimulus legislation. And by “our,” I mean myself and cohorts, the echo of the baby boomer generation; our country will default without us paying for it through higher taxes in the not-so-distant future. It will be our incomes that are to take the hit when we out there in the workforce. Since I brought up our generation, the offspring of the baby boomers, there are tons of us. Here is why, the baby boomer cohort is massive, hence the name associated with the generation. Back in the ‘60s new schools had to be built just to accommodate all of the children being produced in the years after WWII. Since our parent’s generation is a huge cohort, their procreation turned out a mammoth generation.

With huge amounts of unemployment, huge amounts of grads looking for jobs, and huge amounts of Federal debt, things out there in the “real world” are more competitive than ever. Never has it been more important to cut the bullshit and get serious about improving ourselves so we can find a place in the opportunity deprived work environment in which we are to enter. My advice is this, work hard echo boomers and set yourselves apart so you can afford to pay off what I like to call the “boomer bailout,” as it is in large part a fruitless program that has placed a great burden on my echo boomer brethren and me.

Girls, Ladies, Women and Reminders

I find it very interesting, very telling, and above all amusing to see what girls, ladies, or women leave behind on their stays to my house, room, bathroom, whatever. Before I indulge in my strange intrigue, I would like to just say that all of the above female designations apply, I’m a ladies man. Now, however brief or long the stay of the companion they have all had something to leave behind and not all of these stays were of a romantic or sexual nature. In any case, there are always clues to tell of their visit. I’m going to discuss three of these clues or what I like to call “reminders,” as these bits and pieces serve as a brief time portal into unforgettable and forgotten memories, for better and for worse.

I’ll begin with my dearest and weirdest reminder, my bathroom trashcan. So many sheets of toilet paper are thrown away; too many sheets of toilet paper are thrown away. Generally these little sheets are used to wipe off make up, blow a nose, and a plethora of other purposes and uses that will never be known to me, I just hope they aren’t behind the bathroom door crying, regretting there decision to come over, all in all not knowing is probably for the best. To offer an explanation I don’t go searching through my bathroom's rubbish, my bin is crosshatched wire and I can see through the sides while I read on the toilet or from above while I brush. What frustrates me is that I find toilet paper to be a precious commodity and it seems to disappear in the mere presence of a female. Why use so much, ladies? Why not flush instead of fill my tiny receptacle to the brim? I guess it really doesn't matter, I've decided I'm going to start stealing my TP from the library.

The next clue is the most sensual of my “reminders.” That of course is the scent left behind by the female visitor. Some scents are that of flowery body washes and shampoos (if it was an extended stay, where my man products would not suffice), some are of perfume (can be overpowering), but the scent I am attracted to the most is that which the hair leaves on the pillow. This particular scent may come from the above mentioned, flowery shampoos, but sometimes this flowery essence is muddled by a sweaty smell. Such an instance, although rare, is highly desirable as it means I have been getting laid. And every girl has her own distinct scent, mixtures of those flowery body washes, shampoos, conditioners, lotions, sprays, perfumes, and anything I left out. The combinations are endless and each combined with a woman’s natural pheromones and body odors produce that highly individualistic scent. As an aside, I am certain given a “scent test” I could match scent with its producer.

My final “reminder” is not one that is left behind. Rather, one that is taken away in the form of boxers, shorts, sweatpants, and t-shirts. I cannot recall all the items I’ve lost to girls. In some instances I have voluntarily leant them out with the expectation of not having them returned and even given t-shirts as gifts (my own "reminder" for them). But, there have been times when favorite chill-shorts have been nabbed or that super soft vintage tee was smuggled out of the house unbeknownst to me. These moments can be saddening when I’m digging through my laundry pile, wanting that tee to be in there and then realizing I wasn’t the last to wear it. A majority of these missing items are in the possession of one special lady so I assume they are safe. But, there are some to be lost and never seen again. Then again, it could just be my roommate.

Interior Design Style of 9 and 1/2 Jasper

It has happened on more than one occasion that my roommate and I have received compliments on our home decor. Not to be smug, but it seems our home exudes a heightened sense of "cool." I never thought much of interior decorating, always felt expertise in placing furniture, art, and other stuff in a stranger's domicile was an inflated occupation. Now in my second year of residence at 9 and 1/2 Jasper Street I have come to realize that my roommate and I have a true knack when it comes to home decoration.

Our current skills are limited, but a few weeks at some design school should allow us to expand our thematic palette. Until then I will discuss our current expertise, a motif we have dubbed "wild intellectual" or "grimy gentleman." The essential features to this look are books and a solid collection of what I like to call "art and shit." In our case, the latter features are acquired from parents, or grandparents, as it is rare to find an undergrad who has the means to afford quality framed wall pieces and tasteful knickknacks. Our pieces possess that authentic vintage aesthetic that is often unsuccessfully replicated by mainstream providers of household decorative goods.

But, preservation of such distinctive pieces ruins the "wild" and "grimy" components of our design model. Being polished is an absolute faux paus of our motif. It must be offset in some way to exude the "I don't care attitude," for which all proponents of cool constantly strive. I offer these easy to follow tips in giving your crib a more aloof, yet thoughtful look: hoard a massive collection of books and DVDs (works best when living in a small space), leave dirty designer laundry where visitors can see the tags, hang your nicest works of art at an angle, have a summertime bug infestation (if location permits), keep recent periodicals and bottles of liquor you can't afford, tilt fancy lamp shades just a touch, constantly have music no one else has heard playing through a MacBook, and maybe the most important, have a fine rug that never is vacuumed.

Remember, it is imperative that you have a riveting, true or imaginative, story to accompany all your decorative pieces as it adds validity to your wildly highbrow look. I would also like to mention this manner of decorating is impartial to gender, it is useable for both sexes. Once the roommate and I expand our decorative resumes (not likely to happen) more suggestions to achieving a variety of looks for your abode will be provided. Until then feel free to consult (consultations are not free) Dustin J. Pitts or Douglas T.T. Glenn for your decorative conundrums.

Do You Like House?

Ravers and house music lovers who are in the know are well aware of the upcoming release of Until One, Swedish House Mafia’s first full length. This lucky intern was able to get a weekend’s worth of listening before it drops this Tuesday, and was not disappointed, neither were the friends who were partying alongside.

Swedish House Mafia is comprised of three DJs who were placed in the top 25 of DJ Magazine’s Top 100 list in 2009. And if the troupes name didn’t give it away, their origins are Scandinavian.

Leading up to the album’s release the trio have released three singles from the collection of non-stop bangers, the almost transcendental “Leave the World Behind,” the album’s namesake “One” that has generated numerous remixes, one of which done by the Mafia features Pharell from N.E.R.D, and the club favorite “Miami 2 Ibiza.” All of which immediately make any room a shake, partly from the bass and heavy synth lines, and also because it is almost impossible for people not to move when these house jams blast, granted you have a pulse (even writing while listening to Until One, toes are tapping and head is bobbing).

To look at the album in as a whole, it is quite simply a party playlist. It is seamless in production and progression so much so that it may as well be a single 75-minute track. An absolute sure fire way to amp up any gathering as well as an effective way to get yourself up in the morning. The means to an end for Until One is essentially to “bring the heat.” Mission accomplished and a special thanks to Swedish House Mafia for a tremendous weekend.