A wedding worth the wake-up call
It's 5:15 on Friday morning and I technically don't have to be awake for another four hours. Instead, my alarm is telling me that it's time to get out of bed.
It's 5:15 on Friday morning and I technically don't have to be awake for another four hours. Instead, my alarm is telling me that it's time to get out of bed.
Recently, Congressman Paul Ryan, the 41-year-old Chairman of the House Budget Committee, revealed the Republican version of the 2012 budget for the federal government titled "The Path to Prosperity." "The Path to Prosperity" cuts over $4 trillion from the national debt during the next decade by reforming government programs and simplifying the U.S tax code. While Mr. Ryan should be commended for his work, his budget contains misguided policies that are more geared towards creating a political firestorm than much needed compromise.
First, I would like to thank Amanda Gray for providing M.E.Ch.A and Latina/os at Notre Dame with a positive portrayal of the work that we do ("Latinos maintain culture on campus," April 20). I would also like to thank Jessica Lujan for her views in "A Different Way to be Latino" (April 27) — she is right, there are many different ways of expressing our identity. However, I would like to address several incorrect assumptions that she made about our club, "M.E.Ch.A." Her Viewpoint article essentially denied the existence of a nationwide attack on the Latino population via discriminatory legislation and the anti-immigrant hysteria in our country. Allert Brown Gort argues that today Latinos are often associated with being immigrants, who are equated with being "illegal" and who are then demonized by a society that benefits from their disadvantaged status. I am glad that Miss Lujan was fortunate enough to never experience this type of discrimination, but the truth is that Latina/os are targeted and scapegoated everyday.
I truly hope, for all of those reading this, that you are not yet sick of the Royal Wedding. Additional warning: This column may or may not contain elements of cheese. Proceed with caution.
My friend Olivia's birthday is today. She's beautiful, energetic, talented, and extremely smart. Throughout our friendship, she has pushed me to my greatest potential, encouraging me to be the best person I can academically, athletically, socially and spiritually. She was the one who introduced me to my relationship with Jesus Christ, and I could never thank her enough for that. Livi is an extremely important part of my life. Unfortunately, Olivia died almost five years ago. She was crossing the street on a rainy day and someone hit her. It was the end of my freshman year. She was 16.
With graduation looming, seniors hear all manner of advice and well wishes which ultimately are forgotten as the years pass. My commencement speaker, a university president, was so boring and uninspiring that he truly fit into the stereotypical caricature of an esoteric intellectual. Sadly, nothing of note remains with me today other than the memory of a chuckle because several of my classmates either stood naked under their gowns or hid bottles of Champaign. The late humorist Art Buchwald masterfully set a goal for each graduation speech, to leave a feeling rather than a thought — everyone should remember that they laughed during commencement.
Dating. And S.B. 292. What do they have in common? They both loosen the guns. There are currently four gun bills making their way through the Indiana House, and Senate Bill 292 (S.B. 292) is one of them. The bill proposes a general gun law for the state of Indiana, prohibiting any local government from regulating possession of firearms. What this bill fails to recognize is that every town has their own dilemma concerning guns; passing this bill would leave certain towns powerless to protect their populace and punish gun-related crimes.
It was with surprise, and then sadness, that I read Michael Martin's letter to the editor on April 20, followed by Eddie Guilbeau's commentary on Mr. Martin's letter, both of which state and allude to inaccurate information that could be hurtful to, and reflect poorly on, those directly involved with the tragedies mentioned.
I don't like to knock our esteemed cartoonists. I know I have no chance of doing better. However, I saw something in PleasaNDville yesterday that truly offended me. Freddy Corleone is not Michael's younger brother. Fredo is older than him, the middle child between Sonny and Michael. This is not just a minor detail; after Michael becomes the Godfather, Fredo feels betrayed, as if he was passed over. Freddy becomes involved in an assassination plot against Michael, who discovers his brother's treachery and eventually has him killed at the end of the film. If you're going to make a reference to important cultural figures, get the facts right.
So I'm walking down the street in downtown South Bend to the bus stop following an interview for a part-time job this summer. Now you're probably thinking that I'm a sophomore looking to find some way to supplement my income so I can "get down on Friday" during the school year as the immensely talented Rachel Black sings since a. I'm using the bus and don't have a car and b. I'm getting a summer job.
Congratulations. You've just declared your major!
Is it just me or is this "war" in Libya really dumb? The hawks and the pacifists are all unhappy with what Obama has gotten us and our allies into over there. It has been weeks and Gaddafi is not only still in power, but also seems to be winning in a campaign against NATO-backed rebels. The stupidest thing is that the Marines could take Tripoli (Barbary wars, redux?) and have Gaddafi dead or alive in 48 hours if we let them. If we decide to kill people in the name of freedom, we should do so decisively. Obama has been far from decisive on this conflict, not a good characteristic of an American president.
The names are what first catch my attention. As we exult in these Easter days (as best we can with finals hovering over us), we immerse ourselves in the Gospel stories of the Resurrection. For all the spiritual fireworks that are about to erupt with the revelation of Jesus' rising from the dead, these well- known stories of our faith all begin with simple, single, precisely identified names — of a few women.
It was 6 a.m. after two weeks in the wilderness on an Outward Bound trip and three days before my 19th birthday when my parents told me I was going to have a little brother.
America crossed a threshold in 2011. For the first time, according to a CNN/Opinion Research survey, a majority of us approved of gay marriage. It was a slim majority (51 percent), but that number is sure to grow because 60 percent of those polled who are under 50 years old said they approve.
As a Mets fan since my birth in 1991 in Bergen County, N.J., I'm quite familiar with their routine futility. I find myself in agreement with Laura Coletti's remark that Mets-fanhood is a metaphor for life — with a minor rephrasing. Rooting for the Mets, I've noticed, is just like life. Although at times it can be promising and inspiring, in reality it is hopeless. No matter how many times you win, you will ultimately lose. And the world will laugh at your feeble, meaningless attempts.
I completely agree with Ms. Lujan's April 27 letter ("A different way to be Latino") where she says, "Our identity is marred by placing ourselves in an exclusive, single-minded group."
The article in The Observer ("Latino students maintain culture on campus," April 20) portrayed Latinos as a victimized group and implied that MEChA is the way Latino students maintain culture on campus. I share a background with the students in this article — I was an immigrant, am a native Spanish speaker, a first generation college student, etc. etc. — but I want to emphasize that I do not share the same view.
During the spring of 2006, something happened that forever changed my life: I sat down on a couch next to my uncle one Sunday afternoon and fell hopelessly in love with the New York Mets.