I’m still trying to understand everything. Well, almost everything. Not sweatpants. I completely understand sweatpants.

My goal in this quarter’s worth of columns was to explore some random and commonly unthought-of things in life and that’s exactly what I did.

However, even though this column marks the end for this quarter, I still find myself contemplating many aspects of humanity in general. Another 20 inches worth of text is nowhere near enough space to investigate and analyze all of the confusing situations that life sometimes presents me with.

So, instead, I shall leave you with some wise words: Go ahead and accept the confusion that most likely consumes you, and then reward yourself with a new pair of sweatpants. It’s a win-win situation.

I’ve realized that when I take the time to think about all of the intriguing circumstances that I am commonly witness to, I feel obligated to rant about them and find an answer as to why something is the way it is.

In my first column, I explored the evolution of flirting and came to the conclusion that men and women are just too confusing for their own good.

In the second, I pondered what distinguishes a joke or story from being “funny” or being flat-out hilarious and ROFL-worthy. Apparently, it just depends on how willing one is to let their laughter flow freely. I’ll admit that I’m still a little confused as to how some people, upon hearing what I consider to be a hilarious joke, can control their laughter so it doesn’t reach levels of embarrassment.

Because certain people are just so freaking funny that I don’t understand how others barely acknowledge their humor. It’s like “Are you actually trying not to laugh right now? Or what? Because that shit was funny.”

My column for the third week featured my observations about what goes on in the opposite sex’s heads when it comes to attraction. That topic defeated me because there’s no clear-cut answer to the way in which genders operate when dealing with flirtation and making the first move. I could go on and on, but I’ll save that for when I want to annoy my roommate.

I talked about the campus’ dining commons (DC) in my next column and about how shocked I was the first few weeks when I observed people eat three meals worth of food in one sitting. The DC is just one of those things that I think I over-analyze, but I wanted to talk about it and shed some light on something I thought most people wouldn’t spend the time to think about.

Week five? Ah yes, my 20 inch exposé on how people waste their words. I don’t think I want to understand why people have such a limited and incorrect vocabulary.

Instead, I’d rather live in a world where everyone’s vernacular flourishes and people don’t use “literally” in such a serious manner. Warning: that word has a different definition than “figuratively.” In my opinion, “literally” should mostly be used for comedic emphasis and not for describing how your mind just literally exploded.

I’ve also visited the subject of parental influences and how, all of a sudden, people realize that the way they conduct themselves may resemble their parents.

Lastly, I explored the Death Star on campus, and I mean that literally. I started off confused about the supposed myths of this building. I quickly realized that, after conducting an experiment, it is indeed extremely simple to get lost and become unable to find your next class in SOCSCI.

With all that was said and done, I had a blast sharing my often sarcastic and exaggerated thoughts with whoever ended up reading these columns and let me assure you of something…

You will hear from me again — whether you see my name in print, my columns online or my physical being screaming from the balcony at Chick-Fil-A, you shall hear from me again…

SAVANNAH HOLMES can be reached at skholmes@ucdavis.com or go read her crazy blogs at savannahkholmes.wordpress.com if you start to miss her sarcasm and random rants about life.

It’s that time of year. You’re scrambling on gift ideas for your family before finals hit. You’ve settled on buying some nice UC Davis mugs, T-shirts and sweatshirts for the parents and cousins.

Soon, you’ll be getting hosed by one of the best — and worst — strategies this university has cooked up.

Combine terrible selection, high price and a cumbersome process together and you’ve got the prime UC Davis shopping experience. It’s awful and nowhere close to the typical Division I merchandising operation.

You may remember that the role of spirit wear and merchandise is meant to promote the university. Students act as walking billboards every time they step outside the confines of Davis proper.

But those billboards cost anywhere from $20 to $60. And best of luck locating a decent discount or sale for those items. They’re sold by one of the most universally hated institutions on campus (second only to TAPS): the bookstore.

Yes, UC Davis’ bookstore — which also operates a few other outlets on and off-campus — is the guard between you, your money and the latest blue-and-gold gear.

But they also act as a producer, too, under the “Aggie Wear” label. Aggie Wear produces such hits as the signature UCD block letter sweatshirts, along with a variety of T-shirts.

Most schools license their trademark to a variety of companies. Some, like Nike and Under Armour, specialize in high-end gear. Others, like Jansport, Russell or Gear for Sports, make mid-range to low-end merchandise.

Think of UC Davis’ Aggie Wear label as a one-size-fits-all competitor to Nike’s high-end products, while also mass-producing mid-priced T-shirts and other clothing to compete with Gear and Russell. Simultaneously, the markup for Aggie Wear is just as high as the standard markup for companies like Nike or Jansport.

But the lower cost of production and lack of a middle man (Nike, Jansport et al.) equates to a higher profit margin for UC Davis.

But the kicker to UC Davis’ merchandising scheme comes at the point-of-sale. If you want to buy a UC Davis T-shirt, you’re heading to one of three places — the UC Davis bookstore, the bookstore’s website or Amazon’s UC Davis outlet.

All three are, at some level, controlled by the university and only one offers a full selection: the brick-and-mortar bookstore.

That’s what Andrew Carnegie would call vertical integration, or controlling as much of the process from production to sale as possible. So every time you walk in to the bookstore, you’re buying into UC Davis’ Aggieopoly.

The bigger problem for our fine university is that UC Davis has no image among consumers. And no image is almost as bad as having a bad image.

Since UC Davis predominantly admits students from across California, especially the Bay Area, Sacramento and the San Joaquin Valley, you would think there would be plenty of UC Davis promotion (e.g., clothing) on sale for people to buy in those areas.

Think again.

While on a trip to the Bay Area, I stopped at an outlet mall in Livermore and found myself in a Lids store. I decided to take a gander at the college sports section to see which colleges and teams were featured. The names: Stanford, Cal, USC, Fresno State, Cal State Fullerton, and — wait for it — University of the Pacific.

As embarrassing as UC Davis’ lack of inclusion, it’s a problem that is easily fixable.

First, loosen up the approach to licenses.

Give high and low-end merchandisers greater access to UC Davis marks and copyrights. Most people know that greater competition leads to cheaper products for consumers. And, while you’re at it, don’t undercut those licensees (who pay money to use your trademarks) by making your own cheaper clothing.

If I were to buy a week’s worth of UC Davis gear (comprised of seven T-shirts, two sweatshirts and a hat) I’d be spending $250. If I were to buy the same items in Fresno State gear, I’d only spend $170.

Second, get UC Davis gear on shelves year-round.

I’m from Fresno, where the Fresno State Bulldogs are on the same level as a professional team in any big city. This is perpetuated when you can buy Bulldogs gear at Walmart, Target, Costco, Sports Authority and even convenience stores.

This is the same approach UC Davis needs to take with retailers in Sacramento, the Bay Area and the rest of the Central Valley. Get our name out there.

Let’s end the Aggieopoly and get UC Davis students buying better and cheaper merchandise to support Aggie Pride.

ALEX TAVLIAN is a fourth-year political science major. He can be reached at aetavlian@ucdavis.edu.

What is a hippie? A hippie was a member of the 1960s counterculture movement, characterized as a rejection of the 1950s ideals of middle class lifestyle. At its core, the hippie movement was about breaking away from the norms of society and experimenting with ideas to create social change for a better existence. From the hippies, we get flower power, free love and fighting the establishment.

Although the heyday of hippie era is long gone, it appears that its legacy still may linger in the Davis community.

For instance, let’s visit a Davis tradition — the Whole Earth Festival, a three-day free event resembling Woodstock. It’s hardly a surprise that Whole Earth’s origins are directly rooted in the hippie era. The experience was all about inspiring visitors, “in the ultimate goal of learning about activism, wellness and the environment.”

Besides its roots, and being engulfed in tie-dye, how does this festival have hippie elements? Well, the weekend is about bringing a community closer together peacefully, furthering a commitment to sustainability as a nearly zero-waste event, and promoting learning opportunities via documentary screenings and open discussions.

Aside from the Whole Earth Festival, there are the Davis Tri-Cooperatives (co-ops). Although all the current student residents are far too young to be true hippies, it seems that the community still holds some hippie ethos.

In the hippie fashion, the set-up is a social experiment. The students living at the co-ops volunteer to live an affordable lifestyle dedicated to sustainability and practicality, minimizing their waste output and taking advantage of local resources.

In addition to the engagement in eco-friendly living, the co-ops also embody a message of tolerance. The community is organized through consensus, and each member needs to agree to live with every new member. If the hippies were all about living in harmony, the co-ops are a big step.

Finally, there are the Occupy protests, based off of the hippies’ peaceful sit-in anti-war protests, which they in turn borrowed from the Civil Rights Movement. Those involved in Occupy were using peaceful protests to show discontent for our society’s economic disparity. In a way, the economic inequality is its own struggle for human rights, an outcry against the system that creates vast poverty — against “the man.”

So, I get the impression that there are strong connections between the hippie counterculture and the ideals floating around parts of Davis. But it’s no longer the ’60s. This a new generation, we’re different, aren’t we? So what word would better suit this youth subculture?

I propose the term “earthie.” An “earthie” is committed to the sustainability of our species, and the general well being of all humans. In an increasingly globalized society, this new counterculture is dedicated to the environment and world peace. For example, you’d find an “earthie” at our farmers market, bringing their own reusable bag.

So if these “earthies” exist, where are they? I don’t see any radical activism or grand fights to change the system.

But are new hippies really necessary? Theoretical physicist and futurist Michio Kaku believes so. In his Big Think video “Will Mankind Destroy Itself?” he sees two major trends in the world today: movement towards a “Type I civilization,” or the destruction of mankind.

A “Type I civilization” is a “planetary civilization” where humans have united to effectively use all of Earth’s resources. We are currently in a “Type 0 civilization” and this could be dangerous. The transition between Type 0 and Type 1 is crucial, and our survival as a species depends on it. Kaku argues that with advancements like the internet, we have a fighting chance to unite and spread the human race throughout the galaxy.

So it appears that our generation has significant influence over the future. Unless we unite globally, we could be doomed. Therefore the hippie lessons that may be of the highest importance is our ability to question society’s practices, take care of the earth and take care of each other.

I’m not talking about creating utopias here. I’m talking about trying out new ideas to try to create a better existence for everyone.

If you want to receive more Cosmic Relevance from DANIEL HERMAN you can email him at dsherman@ucdavis.edu or add him on Facebook to watch for links and/or possible blog posts.

I tend to romanticize problems. It explains a lot about my childhood. Like most Harry Potter fans I aspired to be an orphan. In first grade I met my best friend by tragically recounting a fantasy in which both my parents had died horribly in a car accident. We hit it off when she exclaimed that her fantasy-world parents had gone the same way.

It is for this reason that I am terrified of being an artist. For me, fiction and art have always been about the romanticizing of adversity. Crying in the rain is pathetic, but top it off with an epic score and it becomes glorious, moving. Suicide is horrific and illogical, but in iambic pentameter it is beautiful, meaningful.

In the past, songwriting was a tool not to solve my problems, but to validate them. If I felt hurt, a melancholy tune would authenticate my feelings until they felt raw and powerful. Sometimes I would revel in feelings of sadness simply because I knew that they could lead to a song.

Inspiration, and the quest to find it, can be a dangerous thing, but it is also a beautiful thing. Everyone has felt it before. It’s like that moment, when you’ve been trying to remember a name or a place and it’s on the tip of your tongue. And then it comes to you. Like it was sitting somewhere up in your brain biding its time until called, and slowly it trickles down your conscious thoughts.

Inspiration is like that. That moment. You reach and reach and instead of looking for something specific like you do when you’re trying to remember, you reach blindly. And you feel silly and your arms hurt but you just keep reaching because something’s there. You can make out its edges but it’s not quite in your grasp. And then suddenly it’s there, and you’re holding it. A perfect little newborn idea.

In that moment you feel so proud and satisfied and excited but the moment is horribly fleeting, and you are left with a sense of intense yearning. There is nothing more elusive and addictive than creation, and the involvement of melancholy in the creative process often seems essential. Does this mean an artist must sacrifice their own happiness in order to create anything of value?

In 2009, Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, gave a speech on the elusive creative genius. She discusses how the “freakish success” of her memoir has launched her into a reevaluation of her role as an artist now that she must consider the possibility that her most successful work is behind her.

She goes on to talk about how the Greeks and Romans did not believe in the idea of a person being a “genius,” creative or otherwise. They believed that every person had a genius or a muse and in this way the artist or the philosopher could not take full credit for their work because half the credit went to their disembodied genius.

I think the idea is revolutionary. It is not creativity that kills the artist. It is certainly not inspiration or even the lack thereof that has the potential to rip apart my own self-esteem. It is pride. By tethering the artist to the art, the creators are pulled back and forth by their own creations.

When a piece is received well their egos are launched skyward; when it is received poorly the artist is dragged into a state of depression. That is why the connection must be severed if the artist is to survive.

If inspiration is a separate entity, free to come and go, then searching for it desperately no longer has to be a part of the process. If creativity is tethered to a muse and not the artist, then creation can be used not to validate problems and wallow in sad feelings, but instead to set them free.

Norman Mailer, just before he died, said, “Every one of my books has killed me a little more.” As alternately phrased in the Potterverse, Neither can live while the other survives.

This is why the muse is the missing piece in the modern artist’s process. Whether your muse is the stray cat in your neighborhood or Meryl Streep or even a disembodied voice in your head, it is this separate counterpart that keeps you humble and that takes some of the burden away from finding inspiration.

But a good idea is not enough. You aren’t just picking fruit here, you’re making lemonade. And as an artist, your responsibility lies in squeezing the idea for all it’s worth.

To see what ELLY OLTERSDORF is up to after the column, check out her music channel at LYLE1324 on YouTube or contact her at eroltersdorf@ucdavis.edu.

How many of us have the courage to speak our minds at the risk of offending others? For example, if we cannot understand a professor due to a thick accent or mumbling, would we go to the professor after class and say so?

If we lack the courage to stand up for ourselves, others will not address our needs and concerns because they will not know we are troubled. If we do not understand or can not hear what a professor is saying but do not raise our hands to ask out of fear of embarrassment or insulting the professor, the professor will not repeat.

However, that fear is only in our minds. Most professors sincerely want us to learn, but if they do not know that we do not understand, they will move on. In addition, if you thought a professor’s explanation was confusing, chances are many others feel the same way and will thank you for asking, not look down on you as stupid.

Standing up for ourselves for relatively minor things like asking a question in class takes much less courage than standing up for more important issues, but we must face our fear and do so.

For example, if we realize that our current major is not for us during our third or fourth year here, we should take action by telling our parents and switching majors. If we do so, we will have to spend an extra year or more at the university, but we will have the career that is right for us for the next forty years. The extra time here and the associated costs are worth forty years of doing what we love.

On the other hand, we could do nothing out of fears such as that our parents will not support us financially or emotionally. If we do so, everybody around us will think that we like our current path and thus do nothing, leaving us unhappy with our majors and classes, which will become our careers.

The unhappiness will not go away by toughing it out until graduation; rather, it will become harder to escape as we commit ourselves more. We cannot rely on an external miracle; we must take action to create that miracle ourselves.

For example, in recent years, many students stood up for themselves against tuition increases. They did not fear what others might think and accepted the consequences of their actions, good or bad. When other students saw these actions, they found the courage to take action as well. As a result of these fearless actions, tuition has not increased, benefiting all of us.

Similarly, we should stand up for ourselves and make decisions with the attitude of accepting the consequences, no matter what they may be. If we have never had the courage to make important decisions for ourselves and thus always let our parents decide, they will naturally feel that they need to constantly watch and control us. They will assume that we cannot take care of ourselves, which makes us feel powerless and miserable.

However, our parents act that way because they honestly believe we cannot do anything ourselves. We should consider their advice, but make our own decisions. If we have the courage to make important choices ourselves, such as deciding not to be a doctor even though they want us to be, they will see from our actions, not our words, that we can take care of ourselves. Afterwards, they will back off and become less manipulating.

If we never stand up for ourselves, our parents will never see us as independent and thus will try to control us forever, even when we are fifty, likely making us miserable.

At the same time, we must remember that not everything is worth the time and effort to fight for. For example, spending an hour arguing with a professor about one point on a midterm is not a good idea. The point, even if obtained, will almost never affect the final grade and will not increase our understanding of the subject.

If you believe something is worth standing up for, do so fully without reservation. If you believe it is not worth standing up for, accept it as it is without complaint. Do not stand in the middle; commit yourself to a decision and then stick to that decision until something changes.

To share your experiences with standing up for yourself, contact WILLIAM CONNER at wrconner@ucdavis.edu.