I’ve said this time and time again, athletes are role models to the younger generation. The negative rhetoric from our President has once again affirmed my faith in our athletes. Across both the NBA and NFL we have seen the utmost positive responses. The reason this topic is so important to me is that I believe the most fundamental thing we possess as Americans relative to the rest of the world, even some of the most developed nations, is our First Amendment. It is something that allows the disenfranchised to speak, it allows those who are underrepresented to stand up with one another and make their voices heard, and it lets athletes go against the societal norms of patriotism to show disdain for the direction of our country. That right is a fundamental right for everything American, and Mr. President you seem to fail to understand that. I will be taking a knee with our fellow athletes this season in respect not only for their desire to discuss the importance of social injustice in our black communities, but also I will be taking a knee as that is the right thing to do to protect our freedom of speech.

Something tragic happened today. The great Chester Bennington took his own life. Suicide is a very close personal matter to me. Having seen those close to me struggle with thoughts like this has taught me how serious mental illness is. It’s chronic, and it’s not easy to remotely ask for help. With other illness you can describe your symptoms and what is not right, but when a primary symptom of the illness is actually wanting you to hide these destructive thoughts then it becomes the hardest thing to treat. All I can say to anyone feeling this way is that you’re not alone, and to anyone seeing someone struggle please reach out to them. We are sadly in a world where we can be so close to one another in communication, but so distant in the truest feelings.

As for Chester, he is survived by his wife and six children. He didn’t live his life in vain, from every person that he and Linkin Park have touched. From the earthquake victims in Haiti, to the plenty of kids like me that wouldn’t appreciate music the way I do without him. There’s a reason behind their success, and I think the people they are is equally as important to their music. There’s something sadistic and ironic about your death falling on the same day as your best friend Chris Cornell in the same way, but maybe that’s part of mental illness, the craziest coincidences turn out to be caused by that of an irrational mind. But to the wonderful man who my first vision of involves you taking your shirt off and jumping into a crowd of people, thank you and rest in piece.

I’d like to urge anyone reading this to donate to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention or any other charity helping those in need. I truly believe we as a society can help reduce the suffering of mental illness and only by discussion and learning to recognize it can we begin this process. I’ll leave you with my first favorite song.

Chris Cornell died tonight at the age of 52. It was an unexpected death and one that hits particularly hard for me. That music, those lyrics, that voice. You’ll never know much they helped me see the light through the dark times. My dude ain’t ever gonna be pigeon-holed. Grunge, alt-metal, whatever. It ain’t happening. He was larger than life. He was an icon. I knew it from the first time my high-strung adolescent ass clicked that play button on my lime-green first-generation iPod mini and blasted “Black Hole Sun” through those janky, beat-up ear buds and forgot about the world. All those confused nights at 3 AM listening to “I Am The Highway,” trying to talk myself off the figurative ledge and baring my soul into words. The religion that was that ethereal live performance of “One.” How that stuck with me for literally entire weeks worth of long walks through campus. Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple. It was all real to me, dammit. Greatest vocalist of my lifetime. And not just a vocalist. A poet. Harrowing imagery elevated to greater heights, mountaintop heights through unmatched vocal delivery. Yeah, that’s more like it. An artist’s artist. A legend. Maybe you call him the voice of a generation, maybe you don’t. I just know he was often times my voice. He spoke to me. Directly to me. Still get chills thinking about all those high notes, all that symbolism, all those verses. Every last one. And here I was thinking that Weiland’s death had affected me the most. Damn, damn, damn. We ain’t ever gonna forget what you blessed us with, brother. Raising two fingers to the sky tonight and bumping “Say Hello 2 Heaven” as the evening fades into oblivion. Rest in power, Chris. Say hello.

The first organization to thank, and the one that is going to be fighting for our rights the next four years is the ACLU. The first people greatly affected by this ban were two Iraqi men named Hameed Khalid Darweesh and Haider Sameer Abdulkhaleq Alshawi, both of these men had the right to be in the United States, yet they were detained. Immediately the ACLU responded by sending lawyers to JFK to fight for these men. At the time of writing this artcile Mr. Darweesh has been released, but Mr. Alshawi and others remain in detention. You can follow the ACLU’s response to this here. In addition to this I urge anyone that can to donate to the ACLU. This is the best organization to fight against those trying to destroy our liberties and I believe in them wholeheartedly.

The next people to thank are your everyday citizens whom are showing up to airports to exercise their first amendment rights to show peaceful that what Donald has done is wrong.

Crowds at JFK honking to support protesters #RefugeesWelcome #MuslimBan #jfkterminal4 pic.twitter.com/JK8u5X4bY9

— ACLU National (@ACLU) January 28, 2017

Reactions like this, like the wonderful women’s march, show that the hope that our previous President, Mr. Barack Obama instilled in us reigns supreme, and that we can move forward as a more unified country, against hate. The speed at which these protestors assembled is phenomenal, with only three hours since the executive order was executed at the writing of this article, and mass crowds assembling.

The last group of people I would like to thank is those Democratic Congressmen and Senators who aren’t being silenced by the party in power, and those that are realizing that despite all electoral efforts, the Democratic party represent the majority of Americans, and they will fight for all Americans. The support of those speaking out is needed, and we as Americans need to stick together to fight for the fabric of democracy.

At this point, it’s not the semantics of policy that the parties are arguing, it’s the essence of our American democracy. Let’s not forget this fact, and let’s not let false equivalencies reign in an error of the war on information.

As perplexing as it is compelling, Jude Law’s portrayal of Lenny Belardo, the titular character, takes a deep dive into profoundly uncharted waters for both television and culture as a whole. Here we have a chainsmoking, unapologetically domineering Yankee who uproots the Vatican establishment to become the youngest Holy Father in the history of modern Roman Catholicism at the spry age of just 47. In the process, Belardo rebukes classic dogma, emasculates senior members of the clergy, and stops at nothing to affirm his own independence and authority, perhaps to mask the fact that he is still very much in the process of his own self-discovery.

Stylistically and visually, The Young Pope, a brainchild of famed Italian director Paolo Sorrentino, is a stunning display. Its overall spatial conception is quite clever in that every room, every garden, every painting comes across as large and grandiose, perhaps as a metaphor for the awesome responsiblities of the papacy, especially for somebody as naive and untried as Belardo. The contrast in lighting is also brilliantly unsettling as it goes from the vibrant images of St. Peter’s Square and the Sistine Chapel by the day to sinister visions of the dark political underbelly and ulterior motives of the Catholic Church (albeit, in fictionalized form) by night. But that’s not what makes it such a fascinating production. Nor is it even all the dank meme content that it blessed our TLs with in recent weeks.

Rather, what makes this show so riveting is that it is somehow both perversion and reflection of the times. On the one hand, Belardo is the complete antithesis of our current pontiff Pope Francis, a humble, forward-thinking leader who seeks to tend to our least advantaged brethren rather than to exploit them, to show mercy rather than to show vanity, to serve rather than to be served. It’s also downright absurd to suggest that a figure like Belardo could rise to the top of an institution where the 1978 election of a soft-spoken 58-year-old Pole named Karol Wojtyła (better known these days as Saint John Paul II) was unprecedented enough.

But at the same time, The Young Pope might not be all that far off from our current reality. We’re living in an era where brash demagogues with a dangerous lack of experience can ascend to the highest duties in the land. Where big egos forcibly attempt to command our respect and attention at every turn imaginable. Where up is down, down is up, and not sorry is the new sorry. Where sometimes the bad guys win and win and win and win.

One particular scene from the pilot episode of the show comes to mind. In it, the newly-elected Belardo sits in his office consulting with Cardinal Secretary of State Angelo Voiello, an old school conservative who finds himself butting heads with Belardo on many occassions. As Voiello goes on exalting the policies and the practices of his predecessors, Belardo interjects with an ominous declaration:

“The past is an enormous place with all sorts of things inside… Not so with the present. The present is merely a narrow opening with room for only one pair of eyes… Mine.”

Well, this right here is our present. And in this present, there is room for only one single question: does art imitiate life or does life imitate art? Together with Lenny Belardo, we’re about to find out.

This game was one shaping up to be a blow out. Louisville came into the game 9-2 on the season, the 11th ranked team in the country, with the likely Heisman Trophy winner behind center, a 24-point favorite, and not to mention a five year winning streak. Louisville received the kickoff, and on the opening drive of the game in the matter of minutes they looked to be putting the nail in the coffin of Kentucky immediately with a quick touchdown. I thought to myself that this was it, it’s Kentucky football we’re talking about, and they are out matched versus a Louisville team that had been in the playoff picture all season until an unexpected loss to Houston last week.

I was wrong. Immediately after Kentucky received the kickoff and started their drive on the 25, Kentucky’s offensive coordinator Eddie Gran made potentially the ballsiest play call to give Kentucky all the momentum they needed to win the game. Now when you’re the underdog you don’t really have nothing to lose. When no one expects you to win, when you try your hardest and fail, then it’s no big deal. You get to keep your pride and say you tried your hardest, but you have to try. Eddie Gran proved that with this call, he drew up a deep pass which had Garrett Johnson walking into the end zone with a 75-yard touchdown after only one snap.

Now this wasn’t the end of the game for Louisville, through four quarters the game went back and forth. With about five minutes remaining, the game was tied up 38-38, Kentucky had the ball. While trying to milk the clock and still score to put the pressure on Louisville, the last of hope seemed to have disappeared. Benny Snell Jr., the phenomenal freshman running back, ended up fumbling the ball around midfield giving Louisville the ball back at the worst possible moment. This wasn’t a play that you could fault Snell, but at this point no matter what happened Kentucky had given this game their all and could walk out of the stadium with their heads held high.

Little did we expect, there was one last sliver of hope. I truly believe that the underdogs have a cosmic advantage when it comes to sports. Things can transcend skill and athleticism to change the course of a game, and this is why sports themselves are always better than sports movies. Lamar Jackson drove his Cardinals into field goal range, and with time on the clock still kept moving forward. After picking up a first down on 3rd-and-12, Kentucky looked for sure dead in the water, but magic happened on the next play. On a designed quarterback run, Lamar Jackson’s specialty, Kentucky’s defense clogged up the hole forcing Jackson to change direction on the play, he stumbled, and the ball popped out of his hand with Courtney Love (no relation to the musician) recovering it for Kentucky. The destiny shifted and Kentucky had just under two minutes to get at least into field goal range and score to win the game, and that’s just what they did.

There is such a beauty in the underdog, especially in rivalries. Rivalries are a battle for pride, nothing more, and the underdog possess an extra will to win, they have nothing to lose, and they seem to take their mantra from words spoken by the great Stuart Scott. Sure most of the time the better team comes out on top, but sometimes their are underdog stories that end up defining a whole team, community, or even generation.

So if you ever find yourself as the underdog with the deck stacked against you just listen to Stuart Scott, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.”

Now this wasn’t the first time I’d seen the video. I saw it the night before on the front page of reddit. At the time I first saw it I didn’t expect it to be more than one of the never ending cycle of funny videos you’d see on reddit, but the moment I walked into class the and saw this I knew this was different. I figured maybe my English teacher played it just as a funny thing to wake us up and get us ready for the day, but it turns out every teacher I had that day did the same. An hour-and-a-half later in my second period, class started off the exact same way, and an hour-and-a-half the same thing.

The way my schedule was setup in high school was that after my first three class I would commute to the University of Kentucky to take my differential equations class. I assumed that once I left high school that day I wouldn’t see Friday again, but sure enough I walk into my differential equations class, slightly late, and am witnessing my professor play Friday. I just chuckled to myself and then told my professor that it was the fourth time I’ve seen the video today. The viral nature of Friday was real. Over the next few weeks the talk of the video would be how many dislikes the video could receive. There were parodies of the video, redubbings, and general buzz. The downside was the swarth of hateful comments that continued to spew and eventually led to the video’s removal.

For most of us this was the end of Rebecca Black. She was just the girl with that silly song that we could laugh at and make fun of. Once this viral sensation, or meme as you will, died our concern for Rebecca Black was gone. Since Friday, we’ve learned that Rebecca Black dropped out of high school after mass amounts of bullying. Not something anyone would wish upon the girl. We’ve also learned that she is resilient. She’s started her own YouTube channel, which now has 1.3 million subscribers, she’s reuploaded Friday and is making content for he fans to follow.

I also realized, Rebecca Black is an inspiration. Friday could have been embarrassing enough to discourage even some of the strongest of us to continue our passion, but Rebecca Black embraced her passion, she could only go up from there. Today I was remembering the viral sensation and wanted to see what Rebecca Black is up to today. So I ventured over to her YouTube channel. I found that two months ago she has released a new song. I didn’t really know what to expect, maybe something like one of the songs released after Friday, songs that weren’t as bad, but still not good. Boy was I wrong. This new song, The Great Divide (I highly recommend a listen immediately) just goes to show that if you work at your passion, you can achieve your dreams.

Rebecca Black has transformed from a somewhat whiney tweener voice, to one that rivals some professional artists. Her voice sounds like a mix of Selena Gomez and Katy Perry, and her vocal range is exceptional. What seemed to be a girl whose career could be described in one flash in the pan viral video has completely shifted to one of our potential pop stars. A girl that could have been destroyed by bullying and embarrassment has blossomed into a strong young adult following her dreams.

This past week has been quite an introspective one for me; analyzing where we’ve been, analyzing where we’re going. I’ve questioned every single choice I’ve made in my own life and where I am going. I’ve questioned my aspirations. I’ve almost felt lost. Today, I feel different, looking at Rebecca Black’s metamorphosis over the past five years has inspired me. I realize that anything is attainable as long as I can put my heart in it and work as much as possible at it.

So to Miss Rebecca Black, Thank You.

Welcome to the live blog for the 2016 United States elections. Here’s our thoughts and information as the election day progresses.

Let’s take this from a perspective something Donald claims to be the most knowledgable about, the economy. Back in 2011, the Republican led congress fought the increase of the national debt ceiling. This fight ultimately faltered, but the delays over it caused S&P to downgrade the credit rating of the United States. Knowing that these delays cause a negative impact to our economy should have been enough for the Republicans to not let something like this happen again, but in 2013 they led another fight to not raise the debt ceiling. This time it started well before the deadline, so at this point it’s only words so to say. Yet, another credit agency, Fitch Ratings, warned that more deadlock over the debt ceiling would force them to consider lowering the credit rating. Four days after this warning a global credit agency, Dagong Global lowered the United States credit rating. This was all due to words and threats, with no actual delay, or action, to the debt ceiling at this point. Donald, words matter.

You may think this may seem a little distant, what does a national credit rating ultimately mean for the average person? And I agree that my example here is a little contrived, so let’s take a different approach. To quote Michelle Obama’s moving speech at the DNC, “this election, and every election, is about who will have the power to shape our children for the next four or eight years of their lives”. I truly believe in this sentiment with politics, so what is something children can relate to. We are in the age of social media, and there’s no denying the existence of cyberbullying. Well what is cyberbullying? It’s words. Donald, it’s only words. So by this logic it shouldn’t matter. Should it matter to Bart Palosz, a 15-year-old from Connecticut who was harassed online by his peers? Should it matter to Bart Palosz’s family who has to deal everyday with their son committing suicide due to just words? Or should it matter to Viviana Aguirre and her family who suffered the same fate? Donald, words matter. (As an aside I would like to urge anyone that has spare money to contribute to wonderful anti-bullying charities such as Stomp Out Bullying or It Gets Better).

If it’s not clear enough actions aren’t the only thing we should judge people on. Now let’s look at what you’ve said. What kicked this all off is when you used your words to essentially say sexual assault is okay if you’re a celebrity. You’ve insinuated that Ivanka should switch companies if sexually harassed such as those suffering from Roger Ailes at Fox News. You’ve insulted the family of a man who died serving this country and protecting our democracy. You’ve insulted already suffering veterans to feel even weaker for dealing with suicide and mental health issues. You’ve parroted a lie that our magnificent President, Barack Obama wasn’t born in this country and have further created a division in our country. You say you want to increase libel and slander laws to protect your image, but words don’t matter? And tonight. You were asked about Islamphobia in this country, and instead of discussing how to combat it you decided to use Islamphobia with your favorite phrase “radical Islamic terrorism”.  You lied about your position on the Iraq war. You openly disagreed with the one man in the country you should be unified with, your running mate Mike Pence. But worst of all, you said you would hire a special prosecutor to jail your opponent Hillary Clinton. This is the thing of tyrants. The kind of people who we learn about in history so we don’t repeat those mistakes. Donald, words matter.

Donald, when you present us with no record of success (tax returns please), no concrete policy that will tell us how you will improve our country, no actions showing you could be fit to be Commander in Chief, the only thing we have to judge you on is your words. Donald, words matter, so take responsibility for what you say.

Abel Tesfaye is a fascinating man. And that’s largely because he continues to redefine and reimagine who Abel Tesfaye actually is.

As Tesfaye, better known by his stage name The Weeknd, dives headfirst into his third studio album Starboy, it’s clear that a radical identity shift is underway for him. This time a year ago, the Canadian phenom was on top of the universe. “Can’t Feel My Face” was still in the midst of its scorched-earth crusade through the record charts, teaming up with its jagged, bass-stuffed counterpart “The Hills” to carry Beauty Behind the Madness to Spotify supremacy and give Tesfaye his first number-one album. Meanwhile, Tesfaye rode the ensuing wave of mega-popularity to award show performances left and right, collaborations with some of the biggest artists in the industry, and a gig swapping saliva with Bella Hadid, one of the most sought-after supermodels on the planet.

But with last week’s release of his new album’s eponymous lead single last week, times have changed for Tesfaye. Gone is the big hair, the grapevine curls that had become his trademark look. A figment of the past is the poppy, funk-inspired sound that propelled him to the mountaintop. In its stead, a more mature, dystopian vibe that puts an evolutionary twist on his dark R&B roots. The message Tesfaye appears to be conveying? I’m still a got damn star, but I’m sure as hell not gonna conform to the labels you put on my music or the expectations/limitations you place on me as an artist. Another pop star washout quickly nearing the end of his 15 minutes of fame? Think again.

Oh, and if Tesfaye’s rebrand campaign wasn’t obvious enough already, the music video literally opens with him killing the past version of himself and proceeding to destroy all of the gold and platinum albums in his house with a blunt object that’s probably best described as a Jesus lightsaber.

It’s one part Kylo Ren, one part Orwellian performance art, one part Fast and the Furious, and all parts badass. Such a display will do no favors towards assuaging the modern-day Michael Jackson comparisons that have followed Tesfaye throughout his career either, especially given its stark resemblance to themes touched on by Jackson in the extended version of the “Black or White” music video back in 1991, a time when the King of Pop was going through a similar reevaluation of his place in society. Facing growing scrutiny/intrusion from the tabloids thanks to his changing physical appearance and his increasingly bizarre personal life, Jackson got away from it all by using “Black or White” and the ensuing album Dangerous as an opportunity to reinvent himself as a musician, one who was infinitely more socially-conscious but who also embraced an edgier, post-pop sound to broaden his appeal to younger audiences and to affirm his transcendent greatness to the masses. Simply put, it was Starboy before Starboy was Starboy. Raw, destructive energy? Check. Smashing things cathartically? Check. Dancing up a cloud of smoke and broken glass? Check. Hell, the panther sitting in the passenger seat of the luxury sports car with Tesfaye may very well be the same CGI panther that Jackson morphed into some two-and-a-half decades earlier.

Tesfaye has always had an intriguing sort of MJ-on-cocaine appeal about him. But even the Herculean task of carrying Jackson’s spirit animal with him into the 2010s might be selling Tesfaye’s talents short. The stratosphere’s the limit for the 26-year-old sensation, who is just entering the prime of his artistic career. We see it through his vibrant neo-noir promotional images for Starboy, which very soon may have Quentin Taratino knocking on Tesfaye’s door arm-in-arm with his copyright lawyer. We hear it through the gritty, chaotic essence of “False Alarm” (the second and only other track off the album to be released so far), a song featuring coarse alt-rock samples so captivating that you briefly forget you’re not listening to something by post-1996 Radiohead. And we’re about to taste it through the crow Tesfaye will be having us eat once the album drops in its entirety on November 25 for having the nerve to write him off as a one-and-done.

No ceiling, no labels, no stopping him. All weekends may come to an end, but this one is coming for the throne. Hold onto your Grammys, folks.