Enough already. This issue is ridiculous. With terrorism gaining strength every day and countries threatning each other with nuclear winter, we as a country are worried about whether two men or two women get married. Why? What is the issue? Not being a very religious person, I don’t buy into the fact that gay marriage ruins the sanctity of marriage. If two people want to join together for eternity, regardless of their sex, I say let them. How does it hurt anyone? I say let us focus on what’s really important in this lifetime, making the world a safer place for the next generation.

The last truly logical decision I made was to transfer to LSC. Before I came here I was in Fargo, ND at NDSU. I  was at a school I hated, in a town I disliked, and with people I despised. Going there for my first semester of college turned out to be the wrong decision, and I knew it within a couple weeks. When my family came out for a weekend, we were already talking about how to get me out of there. My father brought up LSC, which would provide a good place for me to get my generals done for a cheap price. Also, the school I want to go to, St. Scholastica, wouldn’t give me as much money if I transferred there in the spring rather than the fall. By coming home though, I allowed myself to be part of their winter and spring soccer practices, all but assuring myself of a spot on the team come next season. All in all, the only logical thing to do was come to LSC.

Beck is essentially correct in her assessment of the American portrayal of women. They are objectified, they are presented as perfect, and they are the figures teenagers base their appearance off. However, there will not be a change in the media portrayal of women, because, as Beck said, sex sells. Where the change has to come from is the masses. Teenage girls have to reject the perfect proportioned figure and strive to be no more than what God made them. It may be difficult, but if change is to come, that is where the seed needs to be planted. Young women need to spark their own revolution and thus change the media portrayal of women from the outside in.

 As for the pornographic material, this too will not change. Unfortunately there will be men who objectify women to the extreme of abuse and rape, and this will always be the case. The world is full of sick and perverse people who cannot be stopped simply by removing Playboy from the magazine shelves. This is the sad truth, but still a truth, and one we have to deal with.

Beck mentioned a lot of good points in “Struggling for Perfection,” but did not offer any feasible options for change. The issue is an important one, but the change needs to come from the people, not the media. The media will not change as their goal is quite clear, to turn a profit.

Brent Staples presents a powerful view on what it was like to live in Brooklyn as a black man. He describes people having every different kind of reaction, from running to hiding behind a viscious dog. Despite all this, he seems to remain passive about the whole ordeal, expressing the understanding of such behavior.

I, however, must protest on Brent’s behalf. Is this really what our forefathers faught for? Is this what we are still fighting for today? The fact that American citizens must change their behavior because of the prejudice of others does not sit well with me, and should not sit well with any American. Staples says he often kept his distance, walked well around skittish people, and even hummed verses of Beethoven to make people believe he was not threatning. This sickens me.

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That is what is promised to us in the Constitution, although it appears that people like Brent are limited to life, liberty, and the pursuit of anonymity. To see a black man walking down the street is nothing to be afraid of…nor should it be. There is no call for Staples to change his behavior for the benefit of the majority. The majority is not always in the right, and this is one of those times. The next time Staples walks down the street, I hope he will walk normally as if he deserves to because…as do all of us, he does as well.

As an apsiring sports journalist, I would consider myself someone who has a way with words and strives to become more knowledgable about the English language. According to “The Truth about M&M’s,” I would be classified as a Peanut M&M.

For the most part, I agree with the assessment. Generally, I choose to write about topics that mean a lot to me and write to convey thoughts to my audience rather than simply satisfy a class assignment. I proofread my essays and rewrite them to the point of insanity, tirelessly trying to make that piece of work stand out from others. Often times my floor is littered with rejected drafts until the final piece is finally stumbled upon. For all these reasons, I consider myself a Peanut M&M.

 However, there was one generalization that I disagreed with. “Though they often get A’s, they don’t expect them” was a line in the essay I took particular exception to. For all the reasons I have stated, I expect an A for my work. To not expect perfection is to accept failure, and to accept failure is not something I have ever done in my life. B’s and C’s are not poor grades by any means, and often times are the best I could have done. That said, receiving a B or C on a paper means there’s something to be fixed, something that is not a good as it could be. By not accepting grades less than perfect, I push myself to be a better writer and also challenge the people around me to better themselves as well.

So, when I write a paper and hand it to the instructor, I fully expect him to hand it back to me with a perfect score gracing the top of it. If anything else sits on top of my work, I need to make sure I know why the score was given and make sure the mistakes are not repeated. After all, success does not consist in never making errors but in never making the same error twice.

Wow. All I can say after four days of watching the second largest high school state tournament behind only Texas football. Lucky how our spring break coincided with the Minnesota State Hockey Tournament, at least for me. My alma mater was playing in their third straight Tournament and were seeking the title. I knew a lot of people on this year’s team and had watched many of their games during the winter. I knew that if they played like they had been, they had a chance.

First game vs. Blake School. Marshall jumped out to a 4-1 lead midway through the second period with goals about 30 seconds apart from Dano Jacques and Zach Mausolf. Jacques had not played well until his goal and Mausolf was playing with a torn MCL. Unlikely candidates to score, but great stories when they did. Early in the third, Blake scored twice within 7 seconds to make the game interesting, but the Toppers held on for a 4-3 win.

Second game vs. St. Thomas. A rematch of last year’s title game which St. Thomas won 4-3. The Hilltoppers got two goals from Dano Jacques during regulation, who turned his goal in the first game into a stepping stone. The second came with 3 minutes left in a 2-1 game to force the game to OT. The first overtime was played without a goal, but then up stepped Dano to the plate. As the second OT opened, he gained possession of the puck near the blue line and let fly with a slapshot. This slapshot was no ordinary slapshot though, it was a shot that had already beat the Tommies goaltender twice this game. Dano let rip, and everyone in the Xcel saw the net twing and the red light come on. As the Toppers chased Dano, who had completed a hat trick, down the ice, I thought to myself the boys were going to be State Champs.

Third game vs. Hermantown. All Duluth-area final. The two teams had played to a 1-1 tie in Hermantown earlier in the regular season. All tied at 1 after one period, then Hermantown took control, scoring the next three goals en route to a 4-1 vicotry and a State Championship. Marshall outplayed the Hawks, but their goalie was equal to the task. After making 48 saves in the regular season game, Nathan Hardy made 33 saves in the title game to lead his team to victory. The Toppers just couldn’t beat him, and that was the difference in the game.

Well done boys. I am glad to have watched you play and glad to have known various members of the team. You played like champions down there and brought back second-place hardware. Not too shabby. That was my spring break, and the only thing I’d change is Nate Hardy’s skill between the pipes. He single-handedly took a State title away from my Marshall Hilltoppers.

The past month has been pure hell. Division III athletics shouldn’t have this kind of workload. Four times a week we meet to pound our bodies into submission, carelessly working our muscles until we can almost hear them cry for mercy. Six hours a week of workouts in the offseason? Something I’ve never heard of before. I can only imagine what is going to happen to us when the season begins. Not to mention the lifting and conditioning I have to do on my own, trying like mad to stay ahead of the game. All in all I’d say I spend about 10-12 hours a week punishing my body in hopes the rewards will be a starting goalkeeper position on St. Scholastica’s soccer team come fall. The past month has been pure hell, but there is nothing I’d rather sacrifice for. 

Ran across a quote from Vince Lombardi the other day. It read, “Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a real loser.” This made some sense with me as I look around my world at people accepting failure like an everyday occurence and moving on without a second thought.

There is nothing wrong with failing…everyone does it. I’ve done it, you’ve done it, and we will both continue to do it. However, there should be something inside all of us as humans that makes us never want to fail again. There should be a burning sensation in your gut that makes you work harder and harder until your failures have dwindled down to the bare minimum.

There’s nothing better than succeeding, and there’s nothing worse than failing. That’s my view on things. When I succeed a smile is put on my face and I find myself looking forward to my next victory. When I fail, on the other hand, I find myself working to make sure I never experience it again. Obviously I do experience it again, but that does not deter my drive to try to make it stop.

The world today is so akin to mediocrity, and it sickens me. There could be extraordinary things happening in society today if we weren’t so afraid of failure. What’s worse is that the outside world does not help. When a person fails, we fill their lives with scorn and shame instead of doing the right thing and lending a helping hand.

Failure mustn’t be an option, in anything. There’s got to be a better option. And once you accept losing, you are branding yourself a loser forever. Losing should spark something…something deep inside of you that makes you determined not to lose the next time. So, go out into the world, and make the old Coach proud.

When a woman asks how they look, a man has a split second to answer correctly. Without looking, and that is crucial, a man must answer, “You’re beautiful,” without a second thought.

“Fine,” “Great,” and “Okay,” are not acceptable answers and will leave said man explaining himself for the next fortnight.

Also, a man cannot look at the woman before saying this, or even while saying this. Such an act will make the woman believe you needed reassurance and that the man does not think her to be beautiful no matter what she did to herself.

So, next time you are reading Sports Illustrated and a woman asks you how she looks, do not take your eyes off the Joe Mauer and Johan Santana centerfold and answer with a smile, “You’re beautiful.” She will love you more for it, and you don’t have to take two weeks out of your life to convice her she’s one of a kind.

This wasn’t the path I was supposed to take.

I wasn’t supposed to end up in interim at a two-year college. I worked hard throughout high school, did the work, and made the grades. I was going to be an architect student at North Dakota State University in Fargo, ND.

This wasn’t the path I was supposed to take.

Once I moved away, I wasn’t supposed to move back home save for the summertime. Once I was on my own, I was supposed to stay on my own. I was going to be successful and move far away from home.

This wasn’t the path I was supposed to take.

This year was supposed to be enjoyable, not taxing. Freshmen year of college is where friendships are forged, lives are changed, and adults are made. My freshmen year of college has been trying, and has probably taken many years off my life.

This wasn’t the path I was supposed to take.

My eutopian view of freshmen year never panned out. However, something else has risen to new heights in my mind, the human spirit. If this year has taught me anything it is that a person can transcend anything negative and make it a positive. For the better part of a year I have been worrying about not reaching my goals…instead of formulating new goals. I focused on the past instead of looking towards the future, and the future seems much brighter than what is behind me.

So, when people ask how I’m doing, all I can do is smirk and throw them a wink. “This wasn’t the path I was supposed to take,” I say, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”