Broadside Opinion

Ryan Comer, English, (Broadside Contributor)

America should be thankful: The last war that was fought between her shores echoed only the thundering of charging cavalry, the resounding boom of cannons, and the crackle of musket fire; a desired alternative to the churning of metal tanks, the devastation of thundering artillery, and the screaming of machine gun fire.

For many people in the world, however, these sounds are as common to them as the sounds of rush hour are to you and I. Indeed, even the oldest generation of Europeans remembers the horrific devastation caused by World War II.

However, America, when compared to the rest of the modern world, has been a safe haven. Pearl Harbor, one of the deadliest attacks by a foreign enemy on U.S. soil was, in a sense, isolated. Hawaii was still only a territory when the attack happened, and resting about 2500 miles from the mainland, it was a remote land to most Americans.

However, in 2001, despite it’s history of safety, America’s status quo instantly changed a week after Labor Day. Americans were forced to swallow a grim dose of reality; a reality many countries across the Atlantic Ocean had already acclimated themselves to. Americans were shocked, terrified, outraged, deeply saddened—the list of emotions goes on.

The psychological and emotional effects the Sept. 11 attacks caused haven’t entirely dissipated throughout our country, and perhaps they never will. Americans have, in a sense, picked up and moved on—with a war and stringent new security policies to boot.

Eight years after the attacks, the sense of apprehension and fear that Americans felt has somewhat decreased. We leave our homes, generally confident that we won’t be victims of terrorism. If we were in the Middle East, we probably wouldn’t feel quite so confident. However, it’s that kind of naïve thinking which left us open for the Sept.11 attacks in the first place.

Thankfully, law enforcement hasn’t become complacent. Two would-be terrorists, 19-year-old Jordanian Hosam Maher Husein Smadi and 29-year-old Michael C. Flinton were recently arrested for attempted terrorism in a sting operation according to www.slashingtongue.com.

Perhaps the most disturbing detail in the two cases is that they were both unrelated. Two different men living inside the U.S., two different locations, two different targets—but only one motive: To commit terrorism.

This raises an uncomfortable question: Is our biggest threat no longer guerilla fighters in the Middle East, but our own neighbor? Although two cases hardly indicate a pattern, one can’t help but wonder whether or not they indicate a disturbing trend.

The thought of ordinary people with no Al-Qaeda ties committing terrorist acts against the United States is a sickening possibility.

Do the two recent arrests suggest that we’re moving from the realm of possibility into reality?

Although there may not be any easy or discernable answers, it is an issue that America will have to wrestle with in the coming future.

Brandon Minster, Staff Writer

My wife has no discernible mob ties, but I married her anyway. One characteristic she shares with New Jersey’s finest waste management executives though, is her ability to get other people to do her dirty work. Every mob boss knows not to whack anyone himself (are the kids still saying that these days?); that’s why you have deadbeat nephews. Anytime a rival gets rubbed out, you can be miles away with an airtight alibi.
This is my wife’s guiding principle whenever she needs to make a phone call, especially to someone she’s never met. She just talks about how badly it’s needed and about the consequences of not doing it, until I make the call for her.

While I’m on the phone, she’s often somewhere else, working on her airtight alibi. I wonder why she needs to maintain plausible deniability about these calls. The next time she asks me to call someone named Tony the Plumber and say, “The cannoli is in the pot,” maybe I should decline.

Not having to do the things you have to do looked like fun to me, and I wanted in on the act, so we had kids. It’s extra helpful that my 5-year-old son likes to pretend he’s a delivery man. I play along by letting him “deliver” things upstairs and downstairs all day. My 7-year-old daughter is wise to that game, but she still thinks it’s fun to write a grocery list. Now if only she would go to the grocery store for me, I could take a nap.
I don’t just use my kids for my own laziness. I also allow them to get me out of awkward situations. My parents love the idea of me visiting, but an actual visit from me ends in the exchange, “They shouldn’t cut my benefits” or “They’re not in business for your welfare.”

Much better to avoid any unpleasant discussions of the merits of capitalism by sending my kids, who get along famously with my father on account of their notorious socialist leanings. After all, the younger the kid, the bigger the freeloader.

I’m expanding the range of work I will no longer do for myself. Recently I’ve begun having other people do dangerous things for me, like drive recklessly to school. I just stand around at a bus stop until the driver arrives 20 minutes after the advertised pickup time, then sit back comfortably and read as he motors me to class with a blatant disregard for life and limb.

Inadequate following distances, excessive speeds, disobedience of traffic laws: he’s the total package. There are times when I look out the window and see the mute terror in the faces of other motorists, but I just turn up my music and relax. After all, why should I worry? In the event of an accident, I’ve got a bus full of other passengers to cushion me as I bounce around like a pinball. I might even make a new friend that way.

I wish the university provided other services like this for students. Instead of going home for Christmas to announce you’ve failed chemistry, why not have the school send a singing telegram instead? Your mother will enjoy a little song and dance on the front step, and if the singer’s a looker, your father might enjoy it, too. Surrogate class sleepers would allow you to remain comfortable in your own bed without hurting the professor’s feelings. After all, you cared enough to send the very best. If the university won’t help you out, you can always follow my lead and have kids. My professors have reported back that they enjoy when I send my kids to sleep in class for me. They say it’s better than actually having me there. To that I say, “Tony, the cannoli is in the pot.”

Stephanie Tran, Global Affairs

It’s often been said by administrators and student tour guides that George Mason University is so diverse, and that Mason has so many international students. There’s no doubt that this is true, but it’s also true that around campus, many international students, especially Asian ones, bunch up in groups, a little apart from other Mason students. Sure, Mason may be diverse, but are we all bridging gaps between other groups?

Let’s rewind a bit. I’m talking from a strange, some would say “unique” position of being raised both as an American and an Asian (Vietnamese). Though in many ways I’m Americanized (e.g. Christmas and birthdays) and speak English, not Vietnamese, I also know more about Vietnamese culture (e.g. proper bows to elders) than some of my grandparents’ generation.

This brings me to my topic: That invisible, but strong divide, between many of the Asians on this campus and other Mason students; one that I can see from both sides. This cultural line is what causes Asian students to talk to me first, or ask for my help. They look towards familiar-looking people who they think can help them regardless of whether I know them because they’re uncomfortable with anyone who isn’t Asian. This same cultural line was apparent at one of the shuttle stops recently.

After not being able to board a full shuttle, some Asian students swarmed the next one, placing themselves in danger and angering the bus driver, who shouted at them to get away from the incoming bus. Watching the scene unfold, I felt myself growing upset, though I’m not sure why. Was it my fear, the same fear as the bus driver’s, that the students would be hit by the bus? Was it the driver’s attitude? Or was it the stereotypical actions of both the aggressive Asians and the loud American?

Let me just say now that I think both parties were a little in the wrong. One group put themselves at risk and the other was overly upset by the first’s display. However, as a part of both groups, I can reveal the cultural divide that made both groups act the way they did. In an Asian country with few services and too many people, pushing your way to the bus might just prevent you from having to wait a full day to get back home. In a rich country with so many resources like America, shoving is unnecessary, not the norm, and thus, rude, while placing yourself in danger to get to a shuttle is seen as plain crazy.

As you go to class in the weeks to come, strike up a conversation with someone you don’t know, regardless of whether you think they’re “like you” or not. Who knows? You may just learn something new.

Alan Moore, Broadside Contributor

I have been a graduate student at George Mason University for only a few short weeks but I have already heard more about the “indisputable fact” that global warming is caused by man more times than I ever heard as an undergraduate, and I’m not even studying the natural sciences.

It does not take someone majoring in the natural sciences to understand faulty research and it is irresponsible to ignore the growing objection to the reasoning behind theories on man-caused climate change.

This global warming hysteria has infiltrated our campus and it is time to expose it for what it truly is: laughable, at best.

The first issue that is always lobbied hard for by global warming proponents is the notion of the sea levels rising to unsustainable levels because the polar ice caps will melt.

First, the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Changes states that the rising sea levels may in fact be cyclical and there is no evidence that man contributes to these rising sea levels.

Second, the melting of glaciers is countered by the formation of glaciers in other parts of the world, although you never read about it in the news.

Third, if all the ice melted in, say, Greenland, it would not cause radical shifts in the sea levels.

After all, Greenland was once fertile for farming. If the melting of ice could cause the land in the world to be covered by water, then where did it come from in the first place?

Water is not created or destroyed; it evaporates and returns to the atmosphere, and water never has filled the entire earth like some Kevin Costner eco-radical paradise.

Don’t take my word for it. Try an experiment to see what would happen if the ice caps melt. Take a glass, fill it with ice then fill it with water to the very top.

Let it sit out and as it warms, see if any water is spilled. What you’ll find is that due to displacement, the water level will remain the same; do not be deterred by the utter simplicity of the experiment, any scientist will tell you that displacement is true for any level of water.

The next falsehood that global warming proponents champion regards increased carbon dioxide levels. First, CO2 is not a pollutant and is not harmful.

We breathe out CO2 everyday and plants absorb it to create oxygen. In fact, the more CO2 in the atmosphere, the more plants and trees thrive and the more life- sustaining oxygen there is in the world.
What is wrong with that?

Pardon the pun, but this is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the so-called science behind man-caused global warming.

Take a moment to visit www.petitionproject.org to see a petition signed by over 31,000 scientists, 9,000 of whom hold Ph.D.s, which states, “There is no convincing scientific evidence that human release of carbon dioxide, methane, or other greenhouse gasses is causing or will, in the foreseeable future, cause catastrophic heating of the Earth’s atmosphere and disruption of the Earth’s climate.

Moreover, there is substantial scientific evidence that increases in atmospheric carbon dioxide produce many beneficial effects upon the natural plant and animal environments of the Earth.”

The notion that man caused global warming is indisputable? Malarkey.

So why do some people in the academic community wag their finger about this global warming hysteria to their students and the rest of the world?

Well, there has always been this alarmist subculture in our society that is convinced that the world needs saving, and that they are the only people who can save it.

Twenty years ago we were all going to be devastated by acid rain; before that it was global cooling (ironic, eh?). There is always some devastating event or plague that will end us all unless drastic action is taken immediately.

I’ve been told of my impending doom more times than I can remember about things like swine flu, avian flu, Ebola virus, the end of the Mayan calendar, floods, droughts, the decline of honeybees, bubonic plague, and SARS, and I’ve miraculously survived to this point.

The reality is that if anyone tells you that global warming is caused by man and is indisputable when there is so much contradictory evidence out there, be respectful and do your own research.

Make up your own mind, but don’t accept everything you hear just because your professor might control your grade. I encourage you to start your research by looking into what the founder of the Weather Channel, John Coleman, has to say on the subject; it will be enlightening and entertaining, to say the least.

Ethan Vaughan, Staff Writer

College is a strange place in many ways and in many more ways a strange time. In college, you’re independent of your parents for the first time—but still completely dependent on them, because they’re the ones paying your tuition even if they’re not rooming with you in the dorm to keep tabs on what you’re eating, who you’re hanging out with and whether you’re doing your schoolwork.

In college, the freedom you yearned for in high school is finally reached, only to result in some things that you never would have wanted. Many college students feel the sting of the Freshmen 15, or, for the truly exceptional, the Freshmen 50. Late nights, bad food and gallons of caffeine leave you either jittery or sleep deprived, or a weird combination of both. Yet for the cramped quarters, the substandard dining and the sometimes-startling conditions of the shared bathrooms, you’re somehow having the best time of your life.

Except when you’re not.

College is also supposed to be when people blossom into themselves and meet the friends who they’ll be close with the rest of their lives. When that doesn’t pan out the way you thought it would, college can be cruel. I am a talkative and friendly person, so when I find myself in a crowded place, like the Southside dining hall on campus, I tend to make conversation with those around me.

In the last week, I’ve met three separate freshmen, all of whom were sitting alone. Within five minutes, two of them had started pouring out their anxieties, ranging from a lackluster social life to missing friends from home.

The first, a pretty girl with brown hair, asked me, “Is it supposed to suck this bad?”

The second one, a laid-back young man who by appearances seemed fine, confessed, “You know, I’m feeling pretty homesick right now.”

“That’s normal,” I said.

“Yeah . . .” he replied. “When does it go away?”

The fact is, a person’s first year of college can sometimes be difficult, and is often far from the idealized, hard-partying experience. Many people who knew the same friends from kindergarten to high school graduation find it hard to suddenly start over, and if you’re not out on the town every weekend it doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you.

If you’re a freshman (or an upperclassman, for that matter) and you aren’t relishing school, there’s a lot you can do.  Roommates are always a great place to start. If you and your roommate have common interests, try hanging out. Sometimes it’s easier to get out there as a team, and take on the George Mason University social scene together.

Roommates don’t always mesh though, and not all are meant to be best buddies. If that’s the case, and even if it isn’t, there are plenty of clubs on campus catering to a wide variety of hobbies and philosophies. Pride Alliance, Model UN, the African Student Association, Campus Crusade for Christ, the Anime Club, the Belly Dance Club and a whole host of fraternities, sororities and sports groups are just some of the more than 200 student organizations on campus. And if you’re into politics, you’ve come to the right school; College Democrats, College Republicans and other political associations are very active at Mason. With such a diversity of choices, there’s bound to be something for you.

A full list of these clubs, fraternities and sports teams can be found at sa.gmu.edu.

Don’t be shy to talk to people in class, either. You can meet some of the coolest people you’ll ever come across in college through study groups or just walking to and from the classroom. Take the leap and say hi, introduce yourself. The worst thing that can happen is that the other person doesn’t like to talk, and if it works you might have a new friend.

Most other freshmen are just as eager to meet their peers as you are, outer facades notwithstanding. Which brings me to something very important: don’t think you’re alone. You’re not. Among the freshmen I talked to, a recurring theme was, “Everyone else is having so much fun, everyone but me.” Trust me, they’re not. There are some people who are just lucky, make tons of friends right away, and love college from the beginning, but there are many others who are just trying to feel their way around and are way too shy to admit that they don’t know what’s going on.

If your homesickness is severe, or you feel like you’re having a significantly harder time than is normal, don’t be afraid to take advantage of Mason’s counseling services.

According to a 2004 study by the American College Health Association’s National College Health Assessment, 14.9 percent of college students suffered from depression, a 5 percent spike from the year 2000. College freshmen, on their own for the first time, are particularly vulnerable.

The Mason Counseling Services office, located on the second floor of SUB I, is free, confidential and helpful. There is no shame in making a visit that can help you deal with the new stresses of university life, and seeking out a listener who actually knows what they’re talking about doesn’t make you crazy.

My own freshman year was terrible. I was lonely, uncertain and, I can see now, depressed. At the time, I was too ashamed to go to the counseling office, but now I wish I had. It could have made things a lot easier for me. And this will pass. After my first semester I wanted to leave and never come back, but now I’m a senior who loves this school and has a blast living on campus. It might seem like the world is ending now, but you’re 18 years old and there’s much more to life than what’s happening this moment. Just hang on. It does get better.

And for those of you who are doing well; make the effort to reach out. If you see someone sitting alone at lunch, or have passed by that quiet kid in the dorms who doesn’t seem sure what to say, talk to them. Ask them how they’re doing. Invite them to sit with you. These small things make a big difference to others and could turn you onto some great people.

Who ever got hurt from having one extra friend?

Brandon Minster, Staff Writer

I’ve made a few enemies in my life. I don’t keep a Nixonian list of them, but I could probably fill a half-sheet of paper. Most are former schoolmates or coworkers that I rubbed the wrong way. For instance, at one job I had an assignment that required me to work closely with a man I’ll call “James” (because that’s his name). We traveled together once a month. Every trip we’d reach a moment when I thought, “I wish he’d stop talking,” and with every trip that moment came earlier. Eventually I told him as much, and shortly afterwards our relationship became irreparably damaged when I said his favorite college basketball team received too-favorable a seeding in the NCAA tournament. Our last interaction was when he brought in root beer and ice cream, sent an e-mail to everyone else inviting them to his desk for floats, and sent an e-mail to me telling me why I wasn’t invited. James would definitely be on the half-sheet.

Church enemies are a little trickier, because most churches advise against being a jerk to people, but that doesn’t mean church enemies don’t exist; they just turn to subterfuge. I used to have a pithy political bumper sticker on my car, but one Sunday it earned me a hotly-written anonymous note under my windshield wiper, with a follow-up call from a church leader who’d been complained to. The leader told me someone’s feelings had been hurt (though he also told me he thought the bumper sticker was pretty funny). I never learned the complainer’s name, but I could put a general description of him on the list.

Unfortunately, I’ve become so adept at making enemies that I have some I don’t even know about. When I wrote for my undergraduate school’s newspaper, I got irate feedback in online comments from three particular readers. While they had screen names, their identities were unknown. I wondered if they were people I knew well, who were kind in person but fired up the old computer and channeled all their pent-up animosity towards my opinion pieces. Even if I’d placed them on my enemies list, if they were particularly skilled at masking their hatred, they could have been on a friends list at the same time (it’s a good thing I don’t keep a friends list).

Lately, my wife has been getting in on making anonymous enemies. A distant friend of hers wrote a blog post about her husband’s use of a motorcycle and my wife commented that she had always felt motorcycles were somewhat unsafe. The motorcycling husband has now become my wife’s blog heckler, popping up every few weeks to remind her that he hates her. Although she’s late to the game, she’s already surpassed me in the intensity of the hatred she inspires in her enemies. The student has truly become the master.

As much as I disliked James, at least he had the gumption to become my enemy face-to-face, and my wife’s new enemy is someone she at least knows by name. If she were introduced to him at a party, she’d know he was her enemy. Anonymous enemies want the cathartic benefit of hating without the messy social awkwardness of not being friends. Either they should be more forgiving of my shortcomings or they should own up to their ire. If the reason they don’t come right out with their hatred is a fear there’s no room on my enemies list, they have nothing to worry about: I can always switch to a bigger piece of paper.

Sebastian Flores, Broadside Correspondent

Kanye West is definitely looking back and saying . . . oops, my bad.

The Video Music Awards are an awards show on MTV dedicated to recognizing the best music videos of the year.  The awards span from specifics like Best Rock, Pop and R&B video, to the more general, Best Video of the Year.  The VMAs are known to spark controversy and unforgettable moments like when Britney Spears and Madonna locked lips on stage in 2003. This year’s VMAs were no exception.  The adorable country star, Taylor Swift received the first of the evening for Best Female Video of the Year, a great honor for the young star beating out favorite nominees like Kelly Clarkson, Lady Ga Ga and Beyonce—but someone wasn’t very happy about that.

During Swift’s acceptance speech for her first “Moon Man,” a bitter West rushed to the stage, stole the microphone from Swift’s little hands and arrogantly said, “Congratulations, Taylor, I’ll let you finish, but Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time!”  Heartbroken, Swift was escorted off stage leaving everyone stunned, trying to replay in their minds what had just happened.

West, the perfectionist at award show controversy, topped everything he had ever said in previous shows with this mishap.  When West took the stage, I knew something exciting was about to happen.  When I first heard what Kanye West said, I couldn’t believe it.  I had heard the words come out of his mouth, but I couldn’t comprehend them.  “. . . But Beyonce had the best video of all time?” Was that really what he said?  I thought to myself, you can’t do this on TV.  But Kanye West knows what Kanye West knows best, and he spoke his mind once again, this time I don’t agree with him.  His remark not only cut Taylor’s passionate acceptance speech short, he completely humiliated her on national television.  Swift looked so fragile, so vulnerable and her joy of receiving her first “Moon Man” award was so genuine and sincere that when West took that from her, I could feel the pain that she was going through. The look on Swift’s face broke the hearts of all viewers.

How could an artist of West’s magnitude lose his cool like that?  With only ten short seconds on stage he was able to turn his image from respected hip-hop artist to arrogant ass.  Thankfully, he was booed off stage by everyone present in the theater, and I’m sure many television sets at home were booed as well.

The question now is, will he remain in the limelight as he was before this incident, or will this comment affect his upcoming career.  He frankly told the media that after his Swift stunt he was going to take some time off.  I think that would be the best decision right now.  These things happen, and will surely blow over with time, but  I mean if the president of the United States is calling you a jackass, you know you did something wrong.

Ethan Vaughan,  Staff Writer

Coming out is different for everyone. For me, it happened this summer, and the worst part of the experience was anticipating what those around me were going to think. I allowed my fears to grow so out of control that by the time I finally sat my parents down to have the talk, I was surprised at how mild their reaction was.

When they said they didn’t care what I was, and that they loved me, and that above everything else they wanted me to be happy, it caught me off guard. I’d prepared myself for an epic, hours-long conversation, but found that after five minutes there was nothing more to be said. They accepted me. That was it.

I came away with a feeling of profound gratitude, built upon the realization that others before me, and many even today, faced real battles just to be who they were. We who enjoy the rights that others fought and died for are blessed, and we should remember it. When things are difficult, I try to.

I am so thankful that I was born when I was; in 1988 rather than in 1968 or 1948.

I am thankful that I came into the world at a time when the prejudices of old were past their crest, were beginning to fall away.

I am thankful that the incomplete process of their destruction was so far progressed when I came of age; was advanced enough to allow me to breathe and to be.

I am thankful that I can walk outside and see the blue sky and extend my bare arms into the warm sunshine.

I am thankful that I can feel joy in myself and in the things that truly give me happiness without having to hide it, that I am free.

I am thankful that my soul and mind weren’t imprisoned in a body that was locked in an era, that I didn’t burn inside for decades, that I didn’t have to wait and hope that maybe one day deliverance would come, that I didn’t cry into a pillow and pretend that evil wasn’t happening.

I am thankful that the cruelty of a past age didn’t touch me, that I never felt its wicked fingers.

I am thankful that the people who hurt so many, who destroyed countless like me, died or aged into living death before I was an idea in my mother’s mind.

I am thankful that I can revel in beauty without having it assailed or obliterated.

I am thankful that the very fact of me isn’t enough to incite rage and violence, that I will never swing from a summer oak or hear the pounding on the door in the middle of the night.

I am thankful that our neighbors need not fear terror in a white hood, that I don’t have to pretend I hate my own friends to divert the fire from myself. I am thankful that our camaraderie is not forbidden.

I am thankful that my mother and my sister live in a time and a country when they are considered people, human beings with as full a right to prosperity, independence and success as anyone else. I am thankful that my sister will never be held back by the hem of her dress.

I am thankful that a reverend came before me and began to diminish the hatred.

I am thankful that they will never triumph again, that they will never hold this region or any other on a vise of searing terror.

I am thankful that I can be so careless in my honesty.

I am thankful that the only South I have ever known is a land of wealth and gorgeousness, where the tongues of a hundred nations and the hues of the entire world mingle freely.

I am thankful that I can hear Arabic spoken in the park.

I am thankful that this state has become a symbol of progress.

I am thankful that this means so much to me, that I understand. Yet I am also thankful that my generation takes for granted this peace. I am thankful that people can finally be who they are, that our society considers it natural to be natural.

I am thankful that the persecution I have known pales in contrast to what others endured in the past, and I pray that the hardships to come are dwarfed by my suffering.

I am thankful there are people who see the work still to be done, and that they are dedicated to doing it.

I am thankful that Barack Obama can be my president.

I am thankful for every single person who died, for every life given in the knowledge that one day a people would be free. I am thankful for every old veteran who marched in the streets.

I am thankful that those who wept and bled and screamed remember, and that they will never forget.

I am thankful that I wasn’t just another dead faggot.

I am thankful that I could love someone one day, and give myself away to that love. I am thankful that if he exists, the world will not war to tear us apart.

I am so thankful.

William Curtis, Opinion Editor

We’ve all seen them. Preaching the words of ignorance, intolerance and hatred, despite their own beliefs that they’re speaking the truth to every college in the nation.

Simply give a man a soapbox and he becomes that all-encompassing voice of reason, right? Wrong.

I’ve been at George Mason University now for roughly five years, and ever since my freshman year, I’ve witnessed these insane extremists preach that women only belong in the kitchen, that gays are going to be the destruction of the world, and that well, if you masturbate, God is going to kill more than just a kitten. But what gives these preachers of pestilence the authority to tell us what is right and wrong?

Did God really imbue these moronic mundane miscreants with the knowledge and necessity to go and sermonize to the masses of every college in the United States? For what purpose?

I mean, I can understand wanting to teach students the importance of the belief in God, and that some of the things we do are wrong. I get that. But I am a firm believer that telling someone that they are going to Hell just because they are Arabic or like to smoke marijuana is just plain stupid.

Everyone is raised differently, with different belief systems, different ideals and different goals. You cannot go around telling people that what they are doing is wrong.

They need to see it for themselves. And if they don’t, or rather won’t, then they’re just going to  get angry and try to fight the filth that is and has been spewed all over this campus by these people.

People often wonder why so many crowds of students gather around these messengers of hate, and the answer is clear people! Have you ever heard the expression, “the more you feed the fire . . .”?

The more hatred you spit out at these people, the more they are going to try and convert you from your evil ways, the more they will come to our campus because they see our corruption, and want to make us “better” for God.

But what’s really wrong with us? The answer to that, for most of us, is nothing.  When I lived in New York, it was a common occurrence to have someone trying to shove their knowledge down your throat; the only difference was that it is was a lot easier to ignore them and continue on your way—something I wish more students on this campus would do in the future when we are forced to listen to such gibberish.

As an open homosexual 15 years in the making, when I first heard one preacher say that I was going to Hell simply because of my sexuality, you really would have thought it wouldn’t have bothered me.

But it did, to the point that I grabbed him by the head and managed to get a good ol’ wet one on him . . . he wasn’t very pleased about that.

But really, I never would have thought I would have reacted that way. After all, being gay means you’re bound to find someone who is going to tell you that you are going to Hell sooner or later.

Since then, I realized that I gained nothing from my retaliation besides the overzealous happiness I got from my peers, despite how simplistic and non-violent my action was.

All of the actions we have taken as students here have been wrong; the better answer to this roach problem is to simply turn away and put your eyes and ears to something more beneficial and useful of your time . . . oh, I don’t know, like your school work. After all, it is the reason you come here, isn’t it?

I really wish people would just leave him be. Let him preach the words he knows, let him speak the words that have most likely driven someone to punch him in the face. Let us not allow this ignorance to penetrate our ears and hearts.

I know it will be hard and of course there will be those who will oppose him and bring about their own ideals and try to counter his.

Seriously though, I think you would most likely have better luck winning a battle with a 5-year-old over some candy.

So next time you see one of these fools standing in front of Robinson Hall or somewhere near the Johnson Center vicinity—just keep walking to the class that you would probably be missing if you stayed there and listened to them speak the words that are just going to make you more angry. Also, don’t hit him or any of them, it may just be exactly what he wants from you.

Emma Nay, Communication

I am letting you know ahead of time that I am a Libertarian, which is pretty much in the middle of the political spectrum. Honestly, I’m not so sure how I feel about health care reform.

In “Healthcare Reform: Is Change Really Worth Losing a Finger?”, the author states, “You begin to think how something so simple as health care could cause so many people to become so enraged.”

My question is, how is health care simple? Healthcare can easily make someone angry. If it is going to affect me and my family, yes, health care reform can be extremely scary.

The author also states how people put up a red flag to anything that relates to socialism.

In America, do you know how long it takes for a person to get an MRI? Somewhere between a couple of hours and a couple of days depending on how many appointments there are at the office.

In Canada, a country with socialized healthcare, the average person can get an MRI in up to three months. If they’re extremely lucky, they can get an MRI in a couple of weeks.

“If you take a look at medicine in European countries you really can see a change in how patients are cared for by physicians and trained professionals.”

In socialist nations, it is hard for doctors to care for so many people with less in return.

There aren’t enough doctors for them to care for everyone, therefore, the care patients receive is generally less than what Americans receive now.

The author also argues that an innocent child should never be left sick with an illness. Yes, I agree with you.

I believe every child deserves a chance, which is why I donate to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. They care for any, and I mean any child that is ill, insurance or not, and it is not likely for an insurance company to turn down a child that is extremely ill any way.

In the article, the author asks, “What’s the problem with simply trying something new?” Again, it’s not like we’re simply trying something to eat for the first time. We’re trying universal healthcare, not exactly the easiest thing to change over to.

Well, I got this idea from someone a few days ago: How about we try this socialized healthcare in one of our states for a couple of years?

If it works, then that’s great! Let’s go ahead and change everything. If it doesn’t work, let’s either go back to the way things were or try something else new.

I am a humanitarian. I believe those who are extremely ill should get the care that they deserve, insurance or not, and citizen or not (even though I strongly oppose illegal immigration, it’s not that I do not care for them as people).

If you are about to lose an arm or a leg (or maybe even a finger), go right ahead. Get help. I don’t mind.

I only really worry about the fact that 47 million people will be added to health care if this bill gets passed.

There is a huge demand for nurses and doctors right now and I believe that there aren’t enough health care professionals to help 47 million more. Plus, we do not have the money.

I would love to give everyone health care and proper treatment, only if we had the dollars and doctors. Unfortunately, that is a utopian society and it doesn’t really exist (at least not for now). We are trillions of dollars in debt and this utopian society that we are striving for is nearly impossible to reach. It’ll put us further into debt.

I am not a greedy person. I’ve donated countless hours of my time and money for those who are in need. Every person deserves a chance. Unfortunately, my father, a conservative, lost his job for the fourth time within a year a few weeks ago and we are currently experiencing health care issues ourselves.

Personally, I do believe there should be some changes made to the health care we have now, but I do not necessarily agree with the healthcare bill that President Barack Obama is proposing. We didn’t have insurance for half a year last year and we’re going to have to experience that battle again. My father can hardly pay for his heart medication, let alone his own food these days.

I ended up paying for his food for months until he got a stable job again. Keep in mind, my father went bankrupt in 2008 and it’ll take years for us to recover, even if he does get a stable job again.

The sad thing is, we are not alone. Millions of families are in the same position as us. I hope you understand where I am coming from.