Welcome to Moments of Pause, a weekly catalogue of whatever’s been needling you: a list of all the things so odd/pertinent/funny/serious/catchy/confusing that you just had to spend twenty minutes designing a Snapchat about it. For our 7th edition, here is a collage of the very important things that stuck in a handful of contributors’ brains this past week, those shiver-inducing gag-reflexive oh-so-edifying moments of pause that define life (OR IS IT) in the 21st Century.
1. Use a Blue or Black Pen FOR FUCK’S SAKE — Kelsey Dayton
I would like the “gentle reminders” in my take-home midterms to become progressively more hostile. Page 1: “Gentle reminder.” Page 2: “Passive aggressive suggestion.” Page 3: “Hostile insinuation.” Page 4: “Rhetorically violent threat.”
This would be a more honest portrayal of a long-suffering professor’s emotional journey, as she must continue reminding college seniors at a top university where exactly the period goes in relation to the quotation mark. Also, I’d rather she get her anger out while writing the prompts than while grading the essays.
2. japanese lonely death squads — Lawrence Neil, Just Some Dude
There is a small but active industry in rapidly-ageing Tokyo centered around people who die alone and go unnoticed for weeks. I really hope it doesn’t turn into an Hoarders-esque A&E reality show, but I think it might, so commit now, while you know, not to watch.
3. Nature Calls (Thank You, Fiber) — Eugenia Puglisi
As I write this, I am eating a Cliff Bar in my room. Every time I begin the harrowing process of eating one, I ask myself: Eugenia, do you really want to go through with this? Are you starving in the middle of the Rocky Mountains? Or, more accurately: Are you remotely outdoorsy or physically active to justify this choice in food? It feels a mental exercise to eat something that physically looks and tastes like condensed excrement– and the fact that they even have different flavors is appalling to me. What part of adding “Cool Mint Chocolate” will make this taste appropriate for ingestion? If you’ve ever looked on the back of the wrapper, it says, “Adventure Safely: All Risk and Liability is Yours.” I am not well-informed on the puzzling life of outdoorsy people, but if I were in a situation of starvation, this would not feel particularly encouraging. You can be sure, friends, I will not be going camping soon.
4. Smell Ya Later — Nikki Tran
In my hotel bathroom in Los Angeles (because I’m an aspiring Scarlett Johansson circa Lost in Translation wannabe, and Tokyo was out of the budget), I was going through my early morning melancholy routine – i.e. pondering the transience of the human condition while wondering when people stop having acne – and was suddenly presented with the utmost pressing question: why is my deodorant called “Secret”? Full disclosure: I don’t wear deodorant on a daily basis (form a line, boys), but for whatever reason I had packed the ole stink sucker. Sure, it’s easy to call out the misogynistic marketing powers that be, shaming women everywhere into believing that they should be embarrassed by their body odor. But, I think there might be something subtler at play. Is it a secret that my pits waft of Eucalyptus Blossom or Spring Cotton? Probably not. More over, whom are we keeping this a secret from? Although I don’t know the answer to these questions, it is my hope that one day we can live in a world where we savor scented/unscented bliss, where a whiff of B.O. only elicits the most comforting whisper: don’t sweat it. A girl can dream.
5. Avengers Assemble… FOR ETERNITY — Chloe Rickards
I watched the midnight premier of Avengers: Age of Ultron on Thursday night like a good little Marvel fangirl. Except it wasn’t midnight. It was 9 PM. Because market opportunity.
Anyway, like a good little Marvel fangirl, I watched the movie until the end credits to watch the teaser scene, and the last clip of course hinted toward the next Avengers movie.
Then, I wondered — will Avengers be around forever? Will each Marvel movie hint toward the next one and then the next and then the next? I conducted some very high-end Wikipedia research and found out that the Marvel team has movies planned until 2044.
I’ll be, like, 50 or something.
My good little Marvel fangirl side of me is squealing. But my not-so-good DC side of me is worried. If you look at the list of summer movies coming in 2015, it’s essentially all derived from other sources, whether it’s a sequel or a based-off-the-book movie. Or a based-off-the-theme-park movie (i.e. Tomorrowland). Where did originality go?
Oh well. At least the good little Marvel fangirl side of me will forever be content.
6. “Looking for fun?” — Bojan Srb, Incoming Editor in Chief
I’m not. I’m looking for equality.
7. Where was the backalley? — Sophia Laurenzi
The other day, traffic left me idling in front of a small strip mall with only two occupied storefronts. One was ‘Real Pregnancy Options’. The other was a place called ‘Hanger’. Margaret Sanger is a rollin’ in her grave.
8. SWUGS Not Drugs — Katharine Schwab, EiC
Dear Yale, don’t tell me that preferring to spend my time with friends instead of actively participating in our mealy social and hook up scene makes me a SWUG.
The acronym was introduced to me this week, courtesy of another indignant senior, who also found the concept of the “Senior Washed Up Girl” mildly (read: very) offensive. It has many definitions, referring to the girl who empowers herself by refusing to care about her inability to get guys. I think it’s something about the nasty connotations of the four-letter cliche that is meant to recall YOLO and DGAF but instead makes me think of words like SLUT and SMUG and… pug.
One Yale Daily News article entitled #SWUGNATION defines the acronym as “SWUG-is-a-girl-who-can’t-get-
9. A Short Note on Love — Claire Kim
Recently, I saw a fitting end to someone (aka. myself) who only ever loved too much. How do we hold ourselves back from loving too much, our hearts manageably lightweight?
I always found something undesirable in giving myself halfway; I liked to be full in loving someone.
And I was, yet again, not quite right.
But as long as I remember how to forget, I’ll be alright.
10. NEITHER OF THESE NAMES IS EVEN ITALIAN — B-Rat, Culture Editor & Oedipal Sufferer
Papa John’s. Papa Murphy’s.
Are these two separate entirely unrelated enterprises?
Gutsy. Real gutsy.
Corporate America, I’m wooed by your beautiful mind.