A typical day at Bored at Baker. Screenshot taken directly from http://boredatbaker.com

Dartmouth has once again fallen under the spell of Bored at Baker. I’m not going to dwell on the obvious—this anonymous message board is plagued by outrageously offensive comments that not even the staunchest racist would condone. The amount of seemingly random, blindly hateful comments against women, Blacks, Asians, gay people, and every other group under the sun is overwhelming the trashcan, broken up only by pathetically uncreative insults aimed at every Greek house on campus and spam about corporate recruiting.

What fascinates me, however, and keeps me coming back, is the deep-seated voyeurism implicit in this kind of anonymous design. The posts that make me care the most about the toxic appeal of Bored at Baker are those that target specific students on this campus, everyday people who for some reason or another (or perhaps for no reason at all) have drawn an inordinate amount of attention to themselves and to their private lives. The guise of anonymity lends people a power they have never had before—to spew every opinion (hateful or otherwise) that they’ve ever had in a public domain. On Bored at Baker, they feel their voices can be heard without the consequences of culpability. What is it about our culture that fosters this sense of privilege to speak about people we hardly know, or literally had never heard of until we just Facebook-stalked them?

Our generation, unlike any other, is bombarded by celebrity gossip, reality television, and networking websites like Twitter and Facebook, which all further this trend of voyeurism; they quickly made it normal to feel as if we know people we have never met and who will never know that we are observing them. We idolize watchability above all else and especially those who seem the most unaware of being watched, the least self-conscious. We feel the need to comment on other people’s lives, to voice opinions and then gobble them up so that we can feel we’ve learned something about them—gained some access to them that they do not want us to have.

Now, I’d venture to guess that most Dartmouth students are all familiar with the concept of “campus celebs.” The term is basically a catch-all for anyone who makes themselves known in a public way, usually through some student organization or another, yet is completely unaware (or at least pretending to be unaware) that most people know who they are. Yet because Dartmouth is so small, everyone is bound to have multiple friends in common with these people, to have picked up certain tidbits of gossip about their lives and feel some secret access to their most intimate experiences. We even apply this celebrity image to ourselves, carefully crafting Facebook profiles to create these ultra-publicized personae that are all image and no substance. We become selfless, public figures that interact in a public and digital realm;we move from obsessing about being watched by others to watching ourselves and keeping track of all our friendships by such arbitrary measures as wallposts and mutual friends. We feel that our own personal thoughts are but distant third-party commentary on the goings-on of our superficial social connections, that there is some anonymous critical voice that transcends even ourselves in this hamster cage of staged social interactions.

Our lives are a TV show and B@B is the anonymous narrator. We feel we know the people in our little world, because we have some sense of their characters. They are our Barbie dolls, our celebrities. We can weave whatever scandalous stories we want out of their lives because all they are to us is a collection of Facebook drunk-at-a-party pictures—figureheads whose private selves are irrelevant to how we know them. We in turn give up our own private selves and join the TV show; we forget who we’d be if no one (including us) were watching. It’s only to be expected if you take into account the evolution of popular media itself, which went from scripted sitcoms with cookie-cutter characters perfectly fulfilling structured social norms (fantasy worlds we could imagine ourselves into); to reality television (“mirrors” of the real world we do live in, distorted and glamorized though it may be); to Facebook (a public display of our actual selves). We have become the celebrity, the fantasy, the show. The transition is complete.

Whatever form this transformation from human to celebrity takes—Bored at Baker, JuicyCampus—the implications are the same. We feel we have some right to the lives of others, some ownership of their images because they are so publicly known. Yet it is essential to remember that we are all human beings with similar insecurities and weaknesses, as obvious and repetitive as the idea may seem, and these sites are, in essence, pure garbage and nonsense. The hookups revealed on these sites themselves were probably just as shallow and impersonal as their crude public discussion, if they even happened at all. This kind of rampant anonymous hatred can be poisonous. It can make people feel unsafe in their own school, a supposed home away from home. But more disturbing is the underlying reason for this phenomenon of public commentary on the private lives of regular people. It is part of a larger trend that is ultimately more terrifying than any one violent or racist post could ever be.

Bill and Hillary Clinton just might cry, though not publicly. The long-awaited health care bill has passed in the House with one lonely Republican supporting vote (technically making it bipartisan). Unfortunately, there are still a slew of issues left to overcome before health care reform finally becomes a reality, not the least of which is having the bill also pass in the Senate.

Ever since it’s been clear that this bill will not simply be a stillborn dream child of Obama’s administration, lobbyists and interest groups have scrambled in a free-for-all to stuff the bill with as many special-interest goodies as possible.

One company, Genentech, went as far as to draft up prewritten statements for congressmen and congresswomen on both sides of the aisle, made apparent by the sudden deluge of strikingly similar entries into the Congressional Record. But despite the symbolic significance of those statements, those were just words, not legislation.

More tangible stocking stuffers include promotion of in-country medical research, continued absence of a tax on costly “Cadillac” health insurance plans that provide preferential treatment, and most infamously, the Stupak Amendment—dubbed the “anti-abortion amendment” because it would limit private health insurance companies’ coverage of abortions.

And given the rhetoric thus far, it seems unlikely that these will be snipped out of the Senate’s version or the eventual final bill.

The issues surrounding the Stupak Amendment are illustrative of the high stakes in this entire health care debate. Although it is more significant than the other stocking stuffers, the Stupak Amendment still only has a limited scope.

Even if it is enacted into law, the Stupak Amendment doesn’t ban abortion, nor does it put any additional legal fetters on the procedure. Other than the symbolic significance, the only practices it does affect are the new proposals being put into place on top of our current system.

Yet this new system will also fundamentally change the overall health care environment—which was the primary purpose of the reform. With the Stupak Amendment, private insurers can still offer abortion in their health care plans, but without the aid of federal subsidies. Given the significance of these subsidies in conjunction with insurance mandates, there will be few private insurers who want to cater to this new customer base that can afford to have abortion as a covered procedure.

Even those who currently cover abortion will likely scrap it in order to compete with the public option and strive for those subsidies. With the Stupak Amendment, federal dollars will work as a contagion to force abortion out of much of the private insurance market.

This doesn’t mean that abortion will be uncovered for everyone. Private insurers will still offer coverage for abortion in corporate group plans. Wealthy individuals may opt to purchase premium plans without the federally imposed restrictions—and even if they don’t, they can always pay for the uncovered procedures themselves.

This is a luxury, however, that few can afford. With these systemic effects, the Stupak Amendment might actually do more social harm than simply impose extra restrictions on abortions—it not only makes abortions more difficult to obtain, but creates a class divide in access and affordability to the procedure.

The government’s involvement in the health insurance market will affect the private industry deeply with even the smallest actions—which ironically is the oft-touted Republican fear of “distruptive government intervention.”

America’s health care system is in desperate need of reform. But as the example of the Stupak Amendment demonstrates, legislators are now playing with fire. If the public isn’t vigilant in paying attention to what is being added to the health care soup, Americans may end up with a whole new generation of problems and shortcomings in their medical system.

Although almost any reform legislation is a step in the right direction, Democratic leadership—eager to simply pass something and nearly anything—should take special note to ensure that the final bill isn’t a Pyrrhic victory for both Democrats and Americans as a whole.

Ornaments made by Claflin Jewelry Studio staff for sale. Photograph by Candais Crivello.

This past weekend several DFPers and I took a trip to the jewelry studio in the basement of the Hop. For most of us, it was our first time stepping into the studio, much less making jewelry.

If you’re curious about the jewelry studio, now is the time to go. Schedule a time in your planner and go with some friends. If you’re like me and don’t get around to it until senior year, you may regret passing up the jewelry studio for watching YouTube or playing Farmville all afternoon—save that for your 2 a.m. procrastination.

The jewelry studio offers much more than expected. You can make beaded bracelets and earrings, but metal engravings, rings, and soldering tools also (with supervision). Not everything that comes out of the jewelry studio is girly and froo-froo, either. It can be anything whatever you imagine. It doesn’t even have to be jewelry. Just check out some of the samples that are by the window or inside the studio; there’s a wide array of styles you can make.

You can also come in and fix broken jewelry or take apart your old jewelry to create new pieces. And, if you’re feeling really creative, you can probably bring in normal objects to turn into jewelry. That way, you can not only make something cool, but can also take pride in being sustainable. By using things you already have, you not only recycle and give use to your broken pieces, but you also save money on material costs. The studio accepts cash or DA$H for any costs, which are pretty reasonable. A simple silver ring, for example, only costs about three dollars.

Although I realize I’m waxing poetry on the jewelry studio right now, I know it’s not for everyone. First, it can be difficult to schedule a time to go to the jewelry studio while you’re busy with classes, organizations, hanging out, and living the Dartmouth life. Although the jewelry studio is open on Saturdays, it isn’t open on Sundays. The hours are pretty flexible during the week though it might become difficult to keep going to the studio during midterms and afterwards.

Secondly, if you want to make a super-amazing-extravagant-detailed-10-years-of-skill-necessary jewelry piece, you can’t do that if you only go to the jewelry studio once or twice. Generally you start with something simple, like a band ring or simple beaded jewelry, though you can elaborate on the first piece of jewelry you’ve made by adding a stone or engraving on it. If you want to get serious about making really stylized jewelry, you need to make going to the jewelry studio a commitment. You get what you put into your time at the studio. Like everything else, you’ll benefit the most when you do put in that effort.

Lastly, jewelry making isn’t for everyone, and that’s O.K. You might find that you absolutely hate making jewelry, that it’s too cumbersome, or your appreciation for jewelry stops at wearing it. Still, if you’re curious about the studio, it doesn’t hurt to try it. Find out if you enjoy it and spend a few hours in the afternoon or evening. At worst, you’ll come out with a shiny new ring, bracelet, or pair of earrings. You might even find that the woodshop next door or the pottery studio across the bridge in Norwich may be more your thing. Finding a new passion can be a fulfilling lifetime joy.

Rest in peace, Washington Blade. Low resolution image of December 1st, 2006 front page of The Washington Blade.

As far as LGBT news publications go, The Advocate magazine may be the most prominent LGBT news source, but the D.C.-based Washington Blade is also a strong contender. That may no longer be the case—on Monday, November 17th, Blade’s parent company, Window Media LLC, announced that it had ceased all of its operations, including the publishing of Blade, Atlanta-based Southern Voice, and South Florida Blade.

It was hardly unforeseen. Since 2001, Window Media had gone on a buying spree, purchasing a plethora of gay newspapers and magazines, including national newspapers like Washington Blade, but also local LGBT papers like New York’s Genre magazine and New England’s IN Newsweekly. When Window Media acquired these papers, it replaced largely local content in favor of national stories. Major brand labels, instead of local, small businesses, largely comprised the newspapers’ and magazines’ advertisements. Whenever it bought a local LGBT paper, Window Media tried to nationalize it, much to the chagrin of the local LGBT non-profit organizations.

However, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered people did not appreciate being treated like a marketing commodity. They naturally didn’t continue buying newspapers that sacrificed their alternative voice to become national media advertising machines. By the beginning of 2009, Window Media’s publications were in financial trouble. In March, Genre magazine was the first of the company’s magazines to suspend its operations. Four months later, the New York Blade folded.

Although it may not be any surprise that Window Media and its subsidiaries have gone under, it’s a disturbing trend that plagues not just LGBT press, but all print media. Just this month, The Advocate announced its plans to market itself and combine subscriptions with Out magazine, ending its 40+ years of stand-alone status. When announcing the decision, the CEO of The Advocate’s parent company, Here Media, cited problems with the print publication model including the costs of paper, printing, and postage. Additionally, the Obama administration currently is in talks about a potential bailout of major newspapers including very well-respected mainstream papers like The New York Times and The Washington Post.

While the loss of LGBT newspapers may not be such a big loss compared to the potential downfall of The New York Times (I could never see The Advocate conducting “in-depth” reporting at the level of the big newspapers like The Washington Post), their demise certainly doesn’t help LGBT visibility. The Washington Blade, the oldest and one of the most well respected LGBT news sources, had conveyed to queer people that they were not alone. Founded shortly after the Stonewall riots in 1969, it encouraged gays and lesbians to come out of the closet during a politically tumultuous era. It was a long-standing tradition for these newspapers and magazines to give LGBT Americans a voice when others tried to silence them. So now, without them, will the LGBT community lose their voice?

I don’t think so. After all, mainstream newspapers, even traditionally conservative ones like the Chicago Tribune, are covering many LGBT events without sharp disdain for LGBT Americans. The social environment has changed in a way that allows discourse on LGBT issues by the mainstream. With the general media now covering more of these issues, it will no longer be up to specifically gay media to prompt active LGBT discussions.

Moreover, part of the reason that print news media is failing is due to the Internet. Free expression is encouraged on the Internet and there is something inherently democratic about a place where a complete amateur can have as much voice as the elite. There is no shortage of gay news blogs, and while they may not have as many features or look as tidy or neat as gay print magazines, they still provide a voice for the LGBT community.

However, I am troubled with blogs claiming they are the only “authoritative” news source or dictating how LGBT politics should be discussed. While there are blogs like Towleroad.com and JoeMyGod.com that discuss LGBT issues, they don’t foster real discussion. These blogs are written by single individuals and marketed towards those with the same ideological and political point of view. Furthermore, most blogs don’t publish editorials where people can stake a claim, support it with evidence, and potentially convince others to join their side.

When this practice existed in gay newspapers, this meant internal debate by queers for queers. Now there are many clamoring voices, but they are all isolated. I worry that these newspapers and magazines are still more likely to spark debate on a topic, compared to blogs. Although there is little danger of complete silence on LGBT issues, the quality of and—ironically—grassroots participation in the debate may suffer with the rise of Internet blogs.

The loss of LGBT print media represents a sad state of affairs for the community. In spite of the numerous problems with Window Media’s publications, the magazines and newspapers added voices to the discussion about a variety of LGBT issues, including marriage equality.

Although I feel that the queer community will be heard in spite of Windows Media’s bankruptcy, it will suffer if current trends continue. Trying to buck the trend, the former Washington Blade staff met this week to try to re-launch the paper under the new name, DC Agenda. But amidst a recession and the quickly thinning field of profitable newspapers, it doesn’t seem likely that they’ll succeed. For the time being, the story remains grim. Let’s just hope that there will still be someone left to report on it.

I had never heard of The Rocky Horror Show before watching the Dartmouth College Theater Department’s production. I bought my pre-season ticket because I was attracted to the show’s unique name. But even when I saw the exciting decorations heralding Rocky Horror all around the HOP, I refused to Google the show, anticipating that which was to be delightfully unknown and grand.

The opening night exceeded my expectations. From the time the usherette, Chiara Klein ‘10 introduced this remarkable “Science Fiction Double Feature” to the starry light of a gorgeous disco ball, I knew I was in for the most extravagant, flamboyant and fun show of my life. When conservative 1950s couple, Brad (Jay Ben Markson ‘10) and Janet (Talene Monahon ‘13) enter Frank ‘N’ Furter’s (David Mavricos ’10) mysterious, out-of-this-world castle, I knew they weren’t ready for this sweet transvestite from Transexual Transylvania’s world of extravagantly sensual surprises.

So much effort went into recreating Richard O’Brien’s powerful story of sex, rock ‘n’ roll, pleasure and freedom. Evan Ross ‘13, who played Eddie, described his experience with the Dartmouth Theater Department as “incredible. They’re wonderful, kind, talented—everything you could hope for. The show was a blast.”

There was Dan Kotlowitz’s psychedelic lighting, Laurie Churba Kohn’s colorful costumes and Georgi Alexi-Meskhishvili’s spectacular set design. Dazzling special effects breathed life into the magnificent floorshow and even a rocket ship take-off. Gregory Daniel’s choreography and the Louis Burkot’s music direction brought the rock ‘n’ roll era to the stage. All of this was guided by director Carol Dunne, who expertly channeled O’Brien’s genius.

And who could forget O’Brien’s genius? Musical numbers like “Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me” and “Rose Tint my World” carried the cult midnight movie classic and the internationally acclaimed theatrical performance through more than three decades. His same-sex couplings, and Frank’s maxim of “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure,” pushed the gender and sexuality boundaries of the time.

Granted, Frank, the supercharged AC/DC of the story, is killed off by one of his henchmen in the end—the predictable fate of a character that challenged the heteronormative status quo back then. Yet, the fact that such a character could exist with such vigor and confidence is a testament to O’Brien’s bravery and the progressive nature of the ‘70s.

The audience is left free to decide whether Brian and Janet understand the implications of their sexual romp through a long, beautiful night or consider the entire debacle a Bacchanalian dream.

Yet, I was touched by what the director’s notes called “a roller coaster of the ridiculous and the imaginative.” I was inspired to live Frank’s words “Don’t dream it, be it.”

The road to personal fulfillment and pleasure doesn’t have to be the broad, heavily-trodden path, but instead a path of one’s own choosing, a path one shouldn’t be afraid to tread.