Opinion

Above the desk in my room is a very large picture,“Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains,“ painted by Albert Bierstadt in1868.Bierstadt is perhaps my favorite artist,known for his treatment of the mountainous landscapes of the American West.Sunlight streaming through the clouds often takes center stage in his paintings,which always seemed to me a credible depiction of God coming down to earth.The beauty of Bierstadt‘s nature can almost put me in a trance. “Wait a minute,Rob,” you might interrupt. “Shouldn’t you have a painting of oil wells surrounded by dead Iraqi children over your desk,or maybe a rich man tap dancing on the backs of the poor with an IRS refund in one hand and a bag of money in the other? It can’t be anything natural.We all know conservatives hate nature.“

“Don’t let your body be your master,” the priest says to the young man. “You must be the master of your body.” I can’t remember where I had heard this before. It was either in a book I read awhile back or on a random TV show. But whatever the case may be, this is an idea that just keeps coming back to me, kind of like that stray dog you petted that one time and so it decided to follow you around the rest of the day. This idea created a lot of discomfort for me because of the dialectic going on in my head. Who is this “you” as opposed to your body? Considering the circumstances, there seems to be an implied metaphysical claim about the nature of human beings. But at the very least, this separation of “you” and your body seems plausible. However the mind-body problem is not something I want to discuss here. Rather, I bring all of this up to discuss the next question on my mind. What does it mean to be the master of your body?

A confession:I’m awful at coming up with column ideas last-minute.After spending a lovely weekend that included an artificial horse insemination and a nighttime picnic at the park,I found myself utterly screwed for the upcoming week.Rather unfortunate,since all my major papers and midterms seem to fall on this week. Anyways,since I seem to be failing at life,I decided that I might as well go ahead andpop out a seriesof confessions,mostly because I can’t come up with a better idea (sorry). Also,I find it comforting to hear about how people fail more than I do,soI might as well provide that same comfort to all of you.

This past Sunday was Apr. 20, a day commonly known by many as a cannabis culture holiday. Over the years, Santa Cruz has become a popular destination for many people looking to celebrate “4/20.” Last year, over 5,000 people arrived at UC Santa Cruz to smoke marijuana on campus at Porter Meadow. In anticipation of the event, UCSC officials increased security this year. The campus restricted the number of outsiders and non-UCSC students from entering campus. Other security measures included requiring all vehicles entering campus to have a university parking permit for the weekend, requiring UCSC identification to gain entrance and not allowing overnight guests for students living on campus.

Sacramento is not generally regarded as a sustainable region – it has grown in a sprawling pattern much like Los Angeles. However, Sacramento’s integration of more sustainable regional planning and small-scale improvements slowly reverses its previous reputation. The city was chosen from a 30-applicant pool as a “solar city” for its development of solar energy policies and received a $200,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Energy to use toward putting photovoltaic systems on buildings. Solar parking meters can already be found in some areas of inner Sacramento, but this additional funding helps color Sacramento’s reputation a deeper shade of green.

here are two ways a relationship can begin: attraction first, followed by some sort of relationship, or friendship first, followed by some sort of attraction. (Of course, there is a rare third way, wherein the guy kidnaps and holds you hostage at gunpoint for a month. As an unconscious survival tactic, you end up falling in love, get married, have two beautiful daughters and escape the law together for many years to come. Oh dad, thank you so much – if it weren’t for your gambling addiction that forced you to hold mom ransom, our family would have never been created!)

The 17th century political revolutionary Guy Fawkes once said, “The desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy.” Despite the fact that British historians may tell you that another notable quote from Guy Fawkes would be, “Hey, let’s blow up Parliament,” I believe his wisdom regarding desperate situations should not be overlooked. Even today, in 21st century Davis, we can see how desperate situations force people to make rash and, at many times, foolish decisions. Perhaps the best example of this process can currently be seen within our own Davis Joint Unified School District. For anyone who has read my past columns, the desperate situation facing the DJUSD is clear –$4 million in cuts to next year’s budget. In past weeks, this seemingly bleak situation has forced the district’s school board to penny-pinch, and choose between several options that will each prove detrimental to the district’s overall performance.

But for the class of 2008, there is nothing gloomier than searching for jobs in a wobbling economy plagued by a rising unemployment rate. For more than 1 million graduating college students across the country who will join the labor force this year, the job prospects are ominous. It’s like looking for a stone in murky waters. Although there has been no official acknowledgment from the Bush Administration that the world’s most powerful economy has already slipped into a recession, the evidence of it is becoming increasingly obvious. According to the latest U.S. Department of Labor statistics, unemployment rose from 4.8 percent to 5.1 percent last March. For five months in a row now, the private sector has lost a monthly average of 80,000 jobs.

I’m writing this horizontally, which is to say, I’m lying on my bed, typing with the laptop on its side. It’s Sunday. My hangovers always isolate in the stomach. No headaches, just horned animals, knocking their heads together and scraping their hooves against my stomach lining. Sometimes the collision is especially violent, and that’s when I stop typing to stare at the wall, waiting for it to pass.

Remember when the world was a better place? I don’t, but I wasn’t alive during the 1950s. I’ve heard that back then things were great! Women finally won the right to wear pants. There was a soda shop on every corner. The only threat to society was bongo-wielding beatnik Maynard G. Krebs from the Dobie Gillis show. Well, him and communists. You know, because that whole Cold War thing was going on. The Soviet Union and Cuba just would not get off of America’s ass. But since no one ever dropped the bomb, things were pretty peachy keen. In fact, things were so peachy keen in the 1950s that UC Davis served as a symbol for good old fashioned community spirit. According to Davis Wiki, the school started a tradition called “Hi Aggie Spirit.” Here’s how it worked: If you were on campus and you encountered someone you didn’t know, you were encouraged to say “Hi, Aggie!” Your new “Aggie” friend would respond by saying “Hi, Aggie!” back to you.

080418_op_crockett.CTitle: Idiot: DefinedBy ZACK CROCKETT After using the word “idiot” in my article last week, I received an e-mail from a young, armchair-philosopher asking, “How does one know he is an idiot?” First of all, I’m afraid epistemology is dead, my friend. We are now in the loquacious age of “notgivingashitemology,” or not wasting time […]

Like most of Davis, I grew up in straight-edge suburbia with only the vague notion that drugs certainly existed but definitely wouldn’t be found in my home town. So when I had the opportunity last weekend to sit down with a distinguished gentleman with a penchant for psychedelics, I was understandably intrigued. While I want to make it clear that I don’t particularly recommend drug use, I think a little exposure goes a long way. How do you even get mushrooms? You didn’t pick ’em, did you? Oh God no. Really, you’d be surprised how easy it is to get drugs. Of course, living in Santa Cruz helps. This one time I needed to buy some weed so I just walked up to a couple dudes with jackets. I asked one if he was holding, and he just pointed to his buddy. “No, but he is.” That’s Santa Cruz.