Kindles, and eBooks, and iPads, Oh My!

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 08:37:12 -0500

Kindles and eBooks and iPads—oh my!
By Andrea Palagi
In more ways than one, we have become the modern day lollipop kids of the technological world—tiny little spokesmen for products to which we have dedicated our lives. We crave technology in the same way those chubby, little, lollipop freaks yearn for tasty, sugar-based treats. We represent the electronic book kids and we welcome you to Kindle land…
In keeping aligned with this metaphor of wizardry, for the remainder of this article, Johannes Gutenberg is Glenda the Good Witch of the East turned Wicked Witch of the West.
Let’s begin.
Johannes Gutenberg was a printer. Johannes Gutenberg was printer and a publisher and a blacksmith and a goldsmith, but for all intensive purposes, Gutenberg was a printer. He revolutionized the printed word via the creation of the printing press and moveable type as far back as the mid 1400s. Gutenberg allowed for the mass printing of pamphlets, and newspapers and bibles, and ultimately the lucid communication of ideas from one person to another. Johannes Gutenberg was Glenda the Good Witch, bringing freedom and revolution to all the little people of Munchkin Land—yet these days it seems he’s gone rotten.
Today, hundreds of years later, Gutenberg (or at least his name) has jumped on the technological bandwagon and taken a turn for the West as a result of Project Gutenberg. Created and named by Michael Hart, this project offers global readers over 36,000 eBooks that can be downloaded free of charge—sounds pretty sweet, right? The Gutenberg Project’s mission even reads: “To encourage the creation and distribution of eBooks”, but it neglects to mention anything about violating the sacred tradition of classical print to which Gutenberg gave birth to years and years ago.
The presence of such ideas as created by the Gutenberg Project have led to the production of electronic books such as the Kindle, the Nook, The Sony Reader, and even the iPad which can provide its owner with electronic text. When these nifty little contraptions began to spark the interest of the American population, a debate broke out. A debate more renowned than those between Lincoln and Douglass in 1858. A debate more controversial than that between Kennedy and Nixon in 1960. A debate that puts the Team Edward, Team Jacob controversy to shame: eBooks, or real books, which takes the cake?
Let’s see.
E-books are cost effective. You can purchase an eBook for $90.00. The books for this device cost money, but they can often be accessed on certain websites for free. Great. EBooks allow for easy transport. Fantastic. They can be slipped into a purse, held easily with one hand; however, you cannot read an e-book in the rain or in the bathtub for fear of death by electrocution, something that a traditional book would never dream of doing to you. And also, if you’re someone who likes to read on the airplane, don’t be alarmed when a pretty little flight attendant taps you on the shoulder and asks you to power off your book during landing and take off, sir.
E-books are slim and think and neat looking, but you can’t smell their pages when they’re brand new or feel that feeling when you first stretch out the binding.
You can’t spread your eBooks out on the coffee table to impress a smoking hot lawyer that you just started seeing.
You can’t line your eBooks up on a shelf to boast your intellect to the world and show others how intellectually superior you are to them.
The battery of a traditional book will never die in the midst of a novel’s rising action—as the female character is torn from her lover by narrow minded parents who just don’t understand, as the scientist drops the vial and unleashes a flesh eating virus that will kill anyone in it’s path, or as Bilbo Baggins is doing something awesome. Traditional books will not disappoint.
Carrying a book under your arm exudes a certain esoteric aura of intelligence that a Kindle or an eReader simply cannot.
If you tried to squash a bug in mid-air with your Kindle, not only will you not get the same leverage as with a book, but you also run the risk of smashing your device to pieces.
Now, I want you all to imagine. Imagine that it’s the middle of winter. Snow is falling on the windowsill as you sit cross legged in a brown leather chair. You are snuggled up with a book. Warm, cozy, turning the pages, feeling that sense of accomplishment as you can literally feel one side of the book getting lighter page after page. Now, place yourself in this same situation with an e-book, say, a Kindle.
It’s freezing. Your Kindle is made of metal and plastic. Your hands are icicles. You’re trying to drink hot chocolate to warm yourself, but then you spill and you’re basically done reading for the rest of the day. Or the week. Or the month. Or however long it takes for you to be able to afford a replacement device. Happy reading.
Now, back to Gutenberg. Did anyone ask him if he was cool with the idea of associating his name with the project that twisted his life’s work into something trendy and evil? I think not. Nobody wants to be a wicked witch, Gutenberg included.
Will eBooks and Kindles and eReaders of all kinds withstand the ultimate test—the test of time? Having made their debut nearly 50 years ago, they have outlasted many things such as the life of an iPhone battery, and the entire duration of Kim Kardashian’s wedding, but then again, that isn’t really saying much.

This I Believe

Mon, 6 Jun 2011 09:58:00 -0400

This I Believe

By Emily Kane

I have a difficult time with emotions; I never talk with anyone about my emotions and my mom is constantly nagging me about this. She has always complained that “not expressing my emotions is bad for me” and “harboring emotions is a terrible thing to do”. To be honest, I have no problem with it and I do not feel the need to burden people with my problems. I found a solution to expressing emotions without burdening people. I believe in the power of poetry. I have found that through poetry I can convey my emotions without burdening anyone but the paper that I write on. I never show anyone the things I write nor do I bring up poetry in a conversation. To me poetry is like a secret defense warrior against sorrow and anger. When my grandmother died I hit a wall; I really had no idea how to feel or what to do. She had mental illness so it was not that we were physically close by any means, she basically lived in a bed for twelve years of my life and the earlier years are vague and difficult for me to remember. But I know that through thoughts and visits she and I were closer than anyone would imagine. Her dying was like losing a best friend and I was not at all ready for that. It happened a little like this: She was ill, indeed. She had almost died many times, so yes the thought ran through my mind very rarely. I went to school thinking life was great and nothing could go wrong but when I got out of school my older brother was there to pick me up; strange. He told me that my grandmother broke her leg that day and that they couldn’t cast it because she was too old and fragile. Basically she died because of a broken leg. I was not there when she died but the rest of my family was; my younger brother and I got left behind that night. I harbored anger towards my family for the longest time. I found my relief in poetry. My grandmother’s death was the first encounter I had with poetry and forever I will be grateful for this sweet relief. So rightfully so I believe that there is power in poetry. Any person who chooses to sit down and write a poem or sheet of music puts emotion into it. I find that poetry to me is raw emotion and I guess that is why I do not share it with people. If I cared to share my poetry with people; that would just expose he or she to that burden of emotion I wish not to expose.

Into The Deep

Mon, 6 Jun 2011 09:40:25 -0400

'Into The Deep'

By Kaisey Croft

Take a swim into me,
Find out who I am.
I have a lot of answers,
Without any words.
Two of a kind,
One is not the loneliest number,
Nothing at all.
I am like a crystal ball,
Mysterious.
Pool of icy blue,
Or not so blue.
Sometimes I need help,
Sometimes I’m fine on my own.
Happy is to sad,
Old is to young,
Either am I.
I’ve been carried by the knowledge holder.
I may not remember everything,
But I know of it.
Full as the moon,
Round as the sun.
I am wise and worn out.
I can lose my touch,
I can stay strong.
Happiness,
I can sparkle like a diamond,
Expensive and tasteful.
When I’m sad,
I flow like a river,
On a cloudy day.
I cannot hide my emotions very well.
I can be all colors,
Few shapes.
I prefer the shiny things in life.
Some people have two,
Some have four.
When I’m lost,
Darkness comes in.

Responding to the idea of choice, using prior knowledge

Fri, 3 Jun 2011 08:05:36 -0400

Responding to the idea of choice, using prior knowledge.

By Manu Hincapie

Throughout history, many have discussed whether each individual has the ability and choice to control their lives and paths freely, or if outside forces like public institutions and general believes on morality affect and severely limit a person from expressing their minds and spirits freely. it is to believe that outside forces can trigger difficult situations and affect wise decision making skills, but breaking off whichever barriers come to surface, is up to the individual. Showing this, a person does have the choice and capability to " write the script of his own life" In the play "Macbeth", Main character Macbeth has been thane and was content with his position until a group of witches, which were the malign outside force that affected his life and decisions, appeared as a barrier to make his persona fall to complete misery. If Macbeth would have had a greater will power and well-founded morals everything the witches said would have been of no relevance and concern to him. This demonstrates that obstacles come on a person's path to success, but it is up to the person and their prior knowledge and will to turn those perverse forces into lessons that will help them obtain whatever they deeply desire and work hard for. To conclude, both ideals have a true foundation within their reasoning, yet the belief that only outside happenings guide your life is wrong because everyone is capable of defeating adversity.

Poetry...

Fri, 20 May 2011 07:58:43 -0400

Poetry...

By Christine Bonifacio

A bird whistles in the night,
He is far away, I know
But I sense no distance.
The bird, this majestic creature
Calls out into the darkness;
Into a darkness unlike anyother.
This darkness is thick with fog and deadly mystery.
And he is afraid.
Not afraid of the darkness itself but,
Afraid of what it signifies.
Afraid to realize the truth
It is bringing forth on bended knee.
Afraid to accept
That there is no call back…

We weep but there’s no sincerity
We cry but the faucets not purified
We dance but the music makes us restless
We sing but the voices
Become lost in translation.
We dream but the vision
Is too abstract.
We’d love but the pain
Is too much of a setback…

We are walking
Slowly
And on edge
Since there is
No light.
We meander
Like two blind widows
Searching,
For some guidance
But unlike them,
Our senses
Are so miniscual
We barely make a move…

Warm spring days
Indoors
Thinking.
Expressing.
Worrying.
Imaging.
A future
I beg to be true.
If only
A crystal ball
A deck of tarot cards
A mystic man
Were legitimate sources
Instead of just cons
With a sweet tooth…

The Everlasting Rain

Fri, 20 May 2011 07:37:20 -0400

The Everlasting Rain

By Emily Kane

Over and over again it replays, every time the anger and hatred stays. Coursing through my veins like acid rain, everything goes numb so I don’t feel the pain. I see anger suffices the weak at heart and that is where it always has its start. If anger is love disappointed then why is it always there? I find anger in every side long glance and every hard stare. It is impossible to rid myself of such a feeling, it over takes me at times and gets me reeling. There is always a rise; you think you’ve seen it all. When you least expect it, here comes the fall. It’s all so unfair, who created this? I know if it were abolished it is a feeling I wouldn’t miss. If no emotion were present in the human mind then everything would be fine and life would seem kind. For those weak at heart like me, this feeling, anger, is the worst; unfortunately. Life keeps on rolling along even when it seems wrong. This road we travel is far too long. Anger makes time stop in the worst way and above all else its victims have no say. It steals away all that you’ve gained and hand delivers an everlasting rain…