Evolution of Childhood Friends

I never imagined that I would ever know someone who could be capable of murdering someone. But, unfortunately, as I found out this morning, I do.

I knew Adrian Barker in 5th grade and was very much fascinated by and envious of him. I remember Adrian being the kid with all the skills: he was good at math, he was good at soccer, lacrosse, tennis…Adrian’s OSU windbreaker totally inspired my love for Ohio State. I was a frizzy-haired runt who was 100% awkward and 100% aware of it and did not show that I cared about what people thought of me. But damn it if I could ever fathom beating someone to death.

Chris Kernich

I found out what happened via Facebook (strangely enough) from someone who had been in the same 5th grade class with Adrian and I. Adrian Barker and Ronald Kelly-Nunn (the name sounds vaguely familiar, but I would’ve definitely remembered if I’d met him) beat a guy, Chris Kernich, to death. There are more than just whispers about this being racially motivated because Chris was white and Adrian and Ron (I think people called him Ron, I’m not sure.) are black. And of course there’s a split on the racial fence–whites say the attack was animalistic and completely unprovoked while blacks allude to some kind of racial provocation on the hands of Kernich. And while I personally believe, that no attack like this goes unprovoked, I don’t care if Chris Kernich tossed out every racial slur in the book, threw on a white sheet and conical hat, and slapped Adrian and Ron across the face–they had no excuse, none, to even lay a finger on him, no less beat the life out of him. I cannot and will not feel sympathy for anyone who kills someone else, despite the provocation.

However, there are parts of the story of Chris, Adrian and Ron that disturb me, and that is the incredibly sloppy, disgusting, biased journalism that has given life to this tragedy:

1. Adrian Barker and Ron Kelly-Nunn are not from Akron, Ohio. I have never been to Akron, so how would I know them at all? Because these two grew up in Shaker Heights, Ohio– the hometown of Paul Newman and Molly Shannon. The same place where the public school system fares better than some private school systems in the country. Because the reader is lead to believe that these two are from Akron (predominately black and predominately poor), that Adrian and Ron grew up underpriviledged and angry. As graduates of Shaker Heights High School, these two did not grow up “poor” or “without the same opportunities as Chris.” In fact, I’d go as far as to say that they most likely grew up in a better situation with better opportunities than Chris. These two were attending college in Akron (might I reiterate, attending college). So they weren’t the wasteful black men that we see portrayed often (and unfortunately, more often than not, is reality).
2. There is an intense focus on the victim. I am very saddened by his death, it shouldn’t have happened.But, we don’t need to personalize Chris Kernich’s story any more. I feel sympathy for this kid and his family just because he was beaten, and the fact that he died increases my sympathy three-fold. I don’t really care if he was a star athlete or what he planned to do Sunday via Twitter, or what his Facebook page says. If you’re going to get that personal in an attempt to drudge up sympathy for this young man (and trust me, anyone with a heart can sympathize with this poor kid), you might as well do it for the people who did this, because even though they’ve committed a heinous and unforgivable crime, they are still people.
3. Since Adrian and Ron were the perpetrators of the crime, the details about them (besides their hometown) seemed to be slopped together and poorly researched. I’ve seen their ages transposed, some articles leave the Nunn out of Ron’s name altogether, and one article calls Ron, “Gene”. Gene Kelly was a dancer, Ron is not. The facts about Chris remain the same, he was 23 years old from Fairborn.
4. Some stories have mentioned that the beating took place near a frat house. No one has mentioned that there could be alcohol involved with this story? Not saying that is an excuse in anyway, but you would mention if a driver hit someone and killed them if they were drunk, would you not?

Adrian Barker

As I learned after my nasty brush with death and the way media handled it in March, is that with online journalism and the commenting system, everyone seems to go apeshit. But I guess that’s what we, as people who knew Adrian and/or Ron to deal with since they killed someone. Going into a little race rant, but they, being black, should have known better than to touch this kid. So many people (especially since Obama’s election) think that we live in this wonderful, post-racial Utopia, but I don’t understand where the hell that comes from. There are too many implications that all black people are loud, rude, users, lazy, and most of all violent, despite how much it may not be based in truth. And despite their backgrounds, no one would know that about these two. I know people seem shocked with my lack of “hoodness.” So why on earth would you perpetuate the stereotype?

On the other side, why do we have so many whites relying on the stereotype? These two aren’t “urban urchins” or “ghetto dwellers” that have an animalistic need to maim and kill. It’s mostly out of fear, a VAST majority of crime committed by blacks are against other blacks. Rarely do black people commitcrimes against, especially kill, whites because they know the punishment is extremely hefty. (There is a scene in the movie Crash about this).

Ronald Kelly-Nunn

If you are white and you think that I’m wrong, ask yourself: have you or anyone you know ever been severely injured or murdered (well, clearly, you can’t be murdered if you’re reading this)? Was the perpetrator black? It is a disgusting paranoia and fear that some people must let go.

This is so far and away different the future I could have imagined for Adrian. Now he’s most likely going to spend the rest of his life in prison, and he deserves every second of it. To all that know Adrian and Ron as wonderful people with bright futures, we must let this go. They have taken the lives of someone else and that is simply unforgivable. There is no need for denial or anger. Saying that there are two sides to this story is bargaining that won’t do us any good. Do not be depressed, let’s accept what they have done (Thank you Dr. Kubler-Ross). It’s unfortunate that their lives are thrown away, but that isn’t at the fault of their friends or families. Choices are individual, and I’m sorry that this had to happen.

Music That Is Fresh & Fun: Emiliana Torrini

I have been in love with Emiliana Torrini since 2003. I’d just bought Thievery Corporation’s album, The Richest Man in Babylon and was really moved by its first song, “Heaven’s Gonna Burn Your Eyes.” A couple of weeks later, I went on a cruise, and The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers was a featured movie on the little television sets in the rooms. I recognized the voice of the singer of the end theme, “Gollum’s Song”, it was smokey, sweet, and familiar. Upon my return, I looked up the singer– and it was Emiliana Torrini.

What sets Emiliana Torrini’s albums aside for me is the unparalleled sense of mood.  The instrumentation, lyrics and voice combine to give a sense of setting that I have never encountered in another artist. “Unemployed in Summertime” takes you to sundrenched afternoons in the city, “Bleeder” takes you to a soft, quiet place with your lover, “Lifesaver” literally takes you to a boat with uneasy creaking and she moans on about a man that just is not good for her. Her voice  is wonder within itself. It can range from being soft and smokey to having a shocking incredible force (“Telepathy” is the best example). Her songs range from bursting with sunshine (“Big Jumps”, “Easy”, “Heartstopper”) to sexy and dark (“Dead Things”, “Gun”) to those cry your heart out girl anthems to comfort the worst breakup (“To Be Free”, “Lifesaver”). She is truly a ranged artist. Though she doesn’t sing dance-pop (yet), she wrote Kylie Minogue’s slow.

After my intial discovery in 2003, I became nearly obsessed with her first album, “Love in the Time of Science”. I wrote a review for it on some random site, detailing every mood of every song. Her first album was a smooth trip hop fantasy that roped me into listening to her first two EPs, Croucie D’Ou La and Merman, which were two way diverse cover albums. I hung on every song she had been featured on (Slovo to Oakenfold) until I got wind that her new album would come out in 2005.

I imploded when I heard it was a folk album– and not the groovy, urban, Ani DiFranco kind. Despite my disappointment, I gave Fisherman’s Woman a listen. I started off only liking two songs, but gave it a listen a couple of months later. Fisherman’s Woman is beautiful and heartbreaking, especially when you learn that it was written after Torrini’s boyfriend died in an accident. Her second album was simplistic, and opened me up to more bare bones music, where you focus on lyrics and quiet moods.

After Fisherman’s Woman didn’t really go but the Grey’s Anatomy soundtrack years after it’d been released, and not hearing any updates about her performing anywhere, I thought I’d have to be satisfied with the music Emiliana Torrini had put out–no more new stuff. So I was blindsighted, last August, when Me & Armini, her latest album was released. Me and Armini is not folk nor trip-hop, it’s a good mix of both served on a bed of indie rock in a pop jus. Me and Armini is probably her most successful album to date, as I’ve heard “Jungle Drum” on a major ad campaign, and “Beggar’s Prayer” popped up on Grey’s Anatomy again.

I’m just hoping that she continues to surprise me and release music when I think she’s done.

Detroit Is Pretty Awesome

My best friend Julie is a world traveler. Born in Japan, Julie lived all over the world as a child, moved to New Mexico, then Michigan, before returning to Germany to live for the past year. She returned in early August, and upon her return, she wanted to see the things any proud Michigander (or at least Metro-Detroiter) would have done. One was the Detroit Zoo, the other, the Eastern Market.

I’m especially proud of the Eastern Market. While most media forms paint Detroit as a post-apocolyptic crime-ridden wasteland, Detroit has so many bright spots that shouldn’t be ignored.

The Eastern Market is one of the largest farmer’s markets of its kind and you can find all kinds of fruits, vegetables, breads, flowers, meats, condiments (mmm…pumpkin butter) along with other random trinkets. I bought a HUGE tub of raw African shea butter and a pair of bright green funky earrings for $15. There are stores with exotic  food items, wicker furniture, retro antiques, and imported beer and wine.

If you’re heading to the Eastern Market be sure to check out:

1. Eastern Market Antiques — This place is LOADED with cool stuff. You can find everything from mantilla veils to Harlequin chairs to postcards of yesteryear. It’s all well preserved and all very cool.
2. R. Hirt Jr. Co — Upon walking in, you will find an interesting bread selection (Spinach and Parmesean, anyone?) venture further and you will find imported candies, condiments, spices and yummy fruit juices that I haven’t seen since I was 9. Venture up stairs, and you find an intense collection of wicker furniture.
3. Jose Madrid Salsa — The guy has roots in Clovis, New Mexico (where my friend Julie lived) and offers a wide variety of salsas including one named after Clovis (earthy, and cumin heavy), a tart verde salsa, and a sweet pineapple-habanero blend. How could you not love someone who has described their product as “stupid-hot”?
4. Avalon International Breads – While we didn’t stop at their EM stand, both Julie and I both have been to their main location in the Cass Corridor. And while Cass may be one of Detroit’s roughest and scariest areas, some of their stores pack a serious punch. Avalon’s breads are amazing, flavorful and honestly, beautiful to look at.
5. EVERYTHING! Don’t let a list dictate what you happen to stop and look at at this incredible location. Not only are there great things to buy, there are incredible Italian and Ethopian restaurants nearby, live music and the general spirit of a city coming together on a Saturday morning!

How to Be a Journalist

(1) The first and only thing you need to know. You have to be brave. These days, you run the risk of being held against your will.

I was absolutely thrilled to know that Laura Ling and Euna Lee of Current TV have returned home safely. I’m also shocked and thrilled that Bill Clinton had a hand in getting them home. There’s that whole joke about not leaving Bill Clinton alone with women, but The Wizard of Is worked his magic with Crazy Kim (Jong Il) and saved two journalists lives.

What’s weird, is that I can relate to their return. A couple of months ago I was kidnapped in another country so I know what its like to be absolutely terrified with no way out and to think that you’d never see your family again. I wasn’t kidnapped over any journalism work, but neither situations wouldn’t have happened in a perfect world.

Apparently, the numbers for kidnapping in Guatemala has gone up, 109 people in the first half of 2009. The most happening in the “most dangerous city in Latin America”, Guatemala City, where we just chilled in front of a church while the locals drove by and smiled. (Just sayin’).

These women were lucky–the reputation of the US in North Korea could’ve gotten them a death sentence. But since they were connected to prominent people (worked for Al Gore’s TV channel, Laura is Lisa Ling’s sister) that might have also bought them a break. They were lucky, kind of like Jill Carroll.

Remember Jill Carroll? She was kidnapped in Iraq a couple of years ago and was eventually set free. Jill Carroll sticks out so vividly to me is that she was my teacher’s daughter. I remember Mrs. Carroll going to Jordan to visit her daughter and telling stories about how proud she was of her brave daughter Jill.

So if this trend of kidnapping/detaining journalists continues, I guess I’m in the right field. I’ve already been kidnapped–I know how it goes, though it’s not an experience I’m in a rush to re-live.

Worst We’ve Ever Thad

I’ve had beef with Thaddeus McCotter since high school. My Political Science/Economics teacher invited him and a bunch of other

face of a winner.

local Michigan public figures to come and speak to his classes about what he does exactly. McCotter initially confirmed, but cancelled last minute. We figured that he had better things to do.

Apparently, Thad McCotter likes to bitch and whine about non-Michigan related problems.

See, Mr. McCotter (who represents MY district in Michigan, embarrasingly enough as it is) is the genius who is trying to rally Congress to force Obama to make a former apology to Sgt. James Crawley who falsley arrested Henry Louis Gates, a black professor, for saying that the police behaved “stupidly.”

I don’t see why or how Obama got involved in the first place, but I’m almost sure it was media driven. Would we care what Obama thought about Henry Louis Gates’ arrest if he weren’t black? He did, Obama spoke his piece, and though Obama may have used a funky (or just off-the-cuff) choice of words, he’s a public figure. He’s got freedom of speech like everyone else. There was no actual malice in what Obama said (and come on people, a false arrest isn’t exactly brilliant behavior), it just sounded unsavory.

So, McCotter, you want to FORCE an apology (or should I say speech) because the president was exercising his 1st Amendment right?

Do you, Mr. McCotter, suspect that Obama called out the Cambrdige Police Dept. because he was looking out for his fellow black man? Because there is about as much evidence of that as you are looking out for your fellow Irishman, Sgt. Crowley.

And don’t you, Thaddeus McCotter, Representative for the 11th District of Michigan, have something better to do than draw up pointless bills? You know, like contributing to the solution to the state of Michigan’s CRIPPILING DEPRESSION?!

I see why this guy doesn’t show his face to a few high school students in the district he represents. Way to contribute to the improvement of the reputation of the state of Michigan and thank you for bailing on our class five years ago.

Sex And My City

Long before Sex and the City went into syndication and was exposed to teenage girls in Midwest Suburbia, I knew I was a “misplaced Manhattanite.” I loved (and still appreciate) the amount of culture, excitement, and the variety of people that circulate through NYC. But thanks to Carrie Bradshaw & friends, there are tons of shit for brains Midwestern girls who want to move to New York to be “just like Carrie.”

I don’t like ragging on my university, but we have one unfortunate stinker of a publication called, “Spartini.” One of my friends described it as an insult to journalism, I personally think of it as the “soristitute” of the MSU publications. Either way, “probing”, “provacative” and “intelligent” aren’t words I’d use to describe it. The content is regurgitated, seasons-old fashion tips and the same old relationship advice written in the same vapid voice. These are things that can eventually be helped with time and effort. But unfortunately, the focus seems to be on the girls themselves rather than what they are reporting. They have fully a updated About Us section (when they barely update the content on the website), informing you on all 25 staff “writers” ambitions to go to New York City and work for Cosmo/Vogue/Elle/Glamour/Rolling Stone.

And as much as I fully enjoy Carrie and Co., I partially blame them for reality that’s been sucked out of these girls’ dreams. By showing Carrie bouncing around from club to man to Bergdorf’s, they take the sting out of the fact that she has creditors cutting up her cards, couldn’t afford to buy her apartment,and had to charge food. And as for the friends: Samantha’s lucky that her PR firm stands out among the 90 trillion in the world, Miranda has time for a social life as a lawyer, and Charlotte makes a nice living in art history without a Ph.D. The show barely touches on the fact that  people first starting out in Manhattan live in glorified sardine cans that they have to share with three other people. This is no exaggeration. 

As for me, I’m kind of over the Manhattan thing. It’s great for a visit, but I don’t want to endure grocery shopping without a car (aka HELL), cab drivers with a death wish, and ridiculous, gouged prices on toilet paper. I understand the desire to get out of the fiscal black hole that is Michigan, but we all cannot be New Yorkers.

FUN FACT: Most of Michigan’s first settlers came to Michigan from New York. The opening of the Erie Canal allowed for many job opportunities and success, but also diversity of cultures: Michigan was a popular immigration destination for people from Germany, Netherlands, the UK, Greece, Syria and Lebanon!

Kickass Food Item: Top 3

I find it hard enough to fill out the “favorite food” question in MySpace quizzes, but I think I’ve narrowed it down. I have three favorites. These top 3 aren’t in order (I could never do that). But for now, I think, these are the foods that I just cannot do without:

1. Honey — My friend Julia and I made up a phrase, “When life gives you trouble, put a little honey on it.” Not only does honey have humectant and antibacterial qualities, it just tastes amazing. It can liven up a grilled cheese sandwich! When I was in Guatemala, I went absolutely apeshit over honey. The street vendors gave options of sprinkling cinnamon, sugar, salt or honey over the pineapple, watermelon, or mango that you buy. Honey went on my pancakes, in my porridge, on bread. Here, I put honey in my tea, on fruit salads, on my fingers, my zits…
2. Cheese — Behold the power of it. I have loved cheese since I was a small child and you will be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t like cheese. It can be smoky, it can be slightly fermented, it can be sharp, it can be smooth, it can be creamy, it can be hard. It’s such a versitile food. I’ve noticed that a lot of East Asian cuisine does not include cheese, except the American addition of cream cheese in certain sushi rolls. Outside of that, cheese is ubiquitous in many recipes, which makes for a tasty diet staple.
3. Spinach — I’m not trying to steal Popeye’s thunder here, but spinach is incredible. Not only is it loaded with crazy vitamins and calcium, there is something about that slightly sharp, veggie taste that is so addicting. I don’t use lettuce anymore on sandwiches or salads, spinach just tastes better to me (not to mention has much more nutritional value). My mother is growing spinach in her garden as I type this, and I don’t know how to tell her that it’s me, not the rabbits, that’s attacking her spinach.

Senorita, I Feel For You

Does anyone else remember Justin Timberlake’s very temporary attraction to women of color? He was all over MTV lauding his huge crush on Janet Jackson (obviously pre-wardrobe malfunction), and got all steamed up with chocolately and caramelly girls in his videos for “Like I Love You” and “Senorita”. It’s funny how the brown-lady-love never expanded into his actual life. The closest thing to ethnic he’s publicly been out with is Cameron Diaz’s last name and Jessica Biel’s rear end.

My roommate (a brownie herself) told me that she loves seeing minority women (Asian, Latin, Black) women with white guys because “you rarely see it.” I don’t necessarily agree with that statement. In fact, I think it’s a rarer sight to see an Asian woman with an Asian guy these days). But lead me to the white guy factor in dating.

White girls seem to date whoever they want. I’ve seen white girls with white guys, black guys, Latin, Asian, it doesn’t seem to matter so much to them. White guys tend to stick with their own, I’ve noticed. It may not be due to a lack of attraction to a browner woman, but more of a social implications. Their friends wouldn’t think their girlfriend is hot or understand why they are dating (because let’s face it, to all guys, they want EVERYONE to think their girl is gorgeous). In America, white is the standard for beauty, so a white girl is the safest bet.

Stephen Lynch begs to differ. My roommate had me listen to a song by this comedian who “only likes black girls and brown girls, the cafe au lait, the caramel girls, the mocha girls just blow [him] away.” I think he may have a caffiene deficiency. My roommate, who digs “snowflakes” (as she calls them) gets excited that someone came out with a song like this, because now she’s got a chance with her White Knight.

I have no problem with dating a white guy. I have, and he’s a good friend of mine now. But I have trouble thinking that when they are young, their wanted association with non-white women is mostly fetishy. They aren’t interested in getting to know or even being seen in public with dark women, but have no objections with having one in the sack. Even Stephen Lynch said it was “about that ass.”

Personally, I think I’m screwed. I have no interest in dating the guys who pay the most attention to me: the wannabe thug, lick your lips, “Hey Shawty, hey lightskin”, fitty capped, pants around the ankles, Lil’ Wayne wannabes. They exoticize me just as much as white guys do. But in the same vein, I’m not exactly attracted to…say, Robert DeNiro. Leading me to be open to date anybody who shows genuine interest and good character. Like that’s not tough enough to find among young men in their early 20s. I know I’m not the only senorita feeling this way.

Piping Hot Sloptarts

College is lauded as being a time to come of age, right? So when did coming of age mean drinking to the point of drowning, and being so plastered that you are so tempted to perform all kinds of fellatio on any (which means every) willing frat boy? This is evidence of the unfortunate rising of what I call the sloptart. If you care to see what my oh-so-eloquent peers have defined as a sloptart, check this out.

“Prude” isn’t the first word I’d use to describe myself, and I can’t think of many others that would refute that claim. I drink, occasionally smoke, and enjoy sex more than anyone else I know. However, I’m of age and am also very smart about my decisions when I choose to engage in a vice. I’m not drinking every weekend or sleeping with some randomer every night. I have a sense of self-control that lets me have my debaucheristic fun while being able to focus on things that I find are a little more important.

Unfortunately, the emerging image of the college girl scares the shit out of me. We have girls:

1.  Fucking for vindication, thinking the amount of guys you have sex with determines how beautiful you are (when it only determines how used and loose your vagina will eventually be).
2. Girls determined to outdrink the boys thinking that the guys will respect them, value them, and somehow in all that find out how beautiful they are (???)
3. High Schoolers getting a head start on their journey to sloptart-dom by attending college parties, binge drinking and illegally sleeping with college aged guys, so they will be “popular” when they come to college. (I go to a school of 46,000. Good luck with that.)

And the big problem with sloptartiness is that it is becoming the norm. If a girl isn’t dressed to the nines at a party, beer sloshed on her from a messy game of beer pong, with one hand wacking away at some guys penis, she isn’t having “the college experience.” Girls are interpreting the “college experience” as being “wanted” by college-aged men who should know better, even if they don’t want them themselves. They are insecure and looking for power strange, newfangled ways.

The scariest part of all of this may be the pride that comes with it. These girls are often proud to admit how they passed out drunk or give you the laundry list of men they’ve given oral to. They post pictures of themselves with the requesite red SOLO cups and glassy stares and the scoff at the other ‘trashy’ girls. Why be so proud of something so foul? Because you won’t be accepted by some loser guy if you don’t?

Put these sloptarts in the toaster and you aren’t going to get a warm and sweet filling. In fact, I’d warn against  eating a sloptart — you may end up with a mouth full of chlamydia.

Flu Fighters

General Margaret Chan.

I should be happy that she is the World Health Organization’s first woman general and paving the way for young girls who want to do big things in the medical field.

However, Margaret Chan is probably the scariest woman on the planet right now.

Her choice of words when dealing with the swine flu or H1N1 (whatever the hell we’re calling it these days) is extremely inappropriate. The number cases of swine flu in the United States rising and people dying from the virus in Mexico, and General Chan saying, “all of humanity is under threat.” What a great choice of words, Gen. Chan, especially considering that most people who are infected with the virus are making full recoveries! That’s exactly what we need to know, that our humanity is being threatened.

Chan also goes on to say that “the greatest threat to mankind is still the H5N1 avian influenza.” Can General Chan only speak in scary, epic terms? “Greatest threat to mankind”, “all of humanity is under threat”?! “Pandemic imminent!” These are very, very scary phrases from the person that the world is relying on to give them information on this new virus that has killed people in Mexico, one in the United States.

From what I’ve read, Chan hasn’t stated ONCE that most people are making full recoveries from swine flu.

It’s easy to blame the media for the sensationalism of the swine flu, but why aren’t we blaming the WHO? Every bit of information they’ve spoken publicly about is giving us grounds to panic, while President Obama, the Centers for Disease Control, Gov. Granholm (our state governor, I don’t know about any other states) are telling us all not to panic. Who should we believe?

I don’t want to panic, but I also don’t want to contract any flu of any kind. So, I’ll take my proper precautions while extending a big thank you to the WHO on behalf of the all of the slaughtered pigs in Egypt because of the spread of misinformation and panic. I’m sure the pork industry will want to jump on board with me.