Do the Pussycat Dolls not piss anyone else off? “Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me? Don’t cha? Don’t cha?” Uh, no. Not really. Shut up. That’s actually quite disturbing. And gifted lyricist 50 Cent is once again back on the charts with the remix of ‘Outta Control’ with Mobb Deep (From the poetically entitled album “The Massacre”). Mr. Cent discusses in this song his difficulties with alcohol and vice (“…drink till the burn is gone, hit the dancefloor like a scene from soft porn…”) and shows how tough he is by threatening violence and displaying his fearlessness (…I'm known for Gat poppin’, when I got problems, I don't run, I just gun you all up…”), but at the end of the day, he emphasizes his belief in strong parental and family values (“…But we ain't come here to start no drama, we just lookin’ for our future baby mamas…”) Wonderful. Who the hell is this guy? I mean, I’m sorry, but I still do not understand how someone lacking core essentials, such as the ability to communicate in a spoken language or to string together words to form complete, coherent sentences, can somehow be recognized as a great rapper. I mean listen to k-os or Kanye or Kyprios or even Will Smith for god’s sake, and you can at least piece together the point they’re trying to convey. 50 Cent seems intent on focusing on three key issues 1. Gettin’ hoes up in da club, 2. Living in da hood, and 3. Shooting bruthas, doing drugs, and just being a general asshole. Not since Vanilla Ice (“…quick to the point to the point no faking, I'm cooking MC's like a pound of bacon…”) have posers pulled off an attempt at rap, or at art in general, so badly. Well I be hatin’ 50 Cent, that shit is whack. In da club. Word.
Ah yes, Week 6 at UPEI. You can see the desperation on the faces of every student you pass in the hallway. Oh sure, everyone still smiles at each other and greets them with the generic “What’s up?” (Usually the greeter does not give a damn what’s up and just has nothing better to say.) But if you look into our eyes you can tell that each and every one of us is quite literally well on our way to clinical insanity, if not there already. First years, who were only weeks ago blissfully ignorant and aimlessly wandering around campus without a care in the world have now caught a glimpse of what it is to be a University student, and as mid-terms approach, are scared shitless. They now run from class to class eyes wide open in fear, hair unkempt, and papers flying everywhere. Second and third years, who by now accustomed to their collective impending doom are either burrowed away in some yellow cubicle, studying obsessively, or are sitting around laughing it up with friends, knowing all the while that they should be studying, or, at the very least, researching for that 20 page paper due at 4:00. Fourth year students march across campus with a certain purpose, as if they are very important people and are headed to do something very important, like address the United Nations or assassinate Osama bin Laden or something. But they too meet those they pass with an uneasy half smile and a vacant look on their face that tells you that inside they are shitting their proverbial pants. They are haunted by the notion that this year really matters, that every waking moment should be spent studying, that these upcoming exams will determine whether they will get into med school or law school or in a corner office somewhere or if they will end up a hopeless loser or a bum on the street, or even worse, like Paul Allen or something. Of course when we find ourselves freaking about school this much, we should all remember that the life of a University student is not all that bad, that soon we will be paying mortgages and sitting in some office or cubicle 8 hours a day and going to parent-teacher interviews and driving mini-vans and drinking Diet Pepsi. Life is full of tests and challenges and all that nonsense, so try not to freak out too much about that next paper or lab or mid-term. It will all be ok. Of course Science students are by now thinking “Ryan, you are the stupidest person I know. If I do not pass my exam I will die.” Well maybe you should stop wasting your time reading the damn Cadre then. Moron.
Have a good one!
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