And You Thought Death Was a Bad Thing...

"Jimmy was bound to get ahead. He always had some resolves like this or something. Do you notice what he's got about improving his mind? He was always great for that" (Fitzgerald, 185).

     Ever since a young age, evidently, Gatsby, or Jay, or Jimmy had an underlying goal of getting ahead, fueled by a sort of undeniable determination. And he did. He succeeded in attaining a large amount of money and changing his penurious lifestyle to one of extravagant wealth and luxury. And with this desire of going forward, Gatsby, in a way, manipulated the context of life and time, freezing everything whilst he dragged himself ahead and, in a sense, reached his inevitable end at a moment seemingly too soon in the eyes of others, yet appropriate within the context of Gatsby and his life, his perspective. In reference to life, that which Gatsby lived may have seemed short externally, and was. Yet in reference to the concept of living, Gatsby is still alive. The life that was lived by Gatsby could not have been extended, his death could not have been avoided, for it would have reached him in another form, as Gatsby's life, a fabrication of many elements, grief, anger, confusion, excitement, love, contempt, success, was in fact, fully lived, and desired a break, a pause, of which death was able to provide. Through his aspiration and success in going ahead, Gatsby did that, which many fail to do, resulting in life necessitating a balance of this seemingly incessant "time" that Gatsby had objected to, leading to the externally unexpected yet inevitable death of his. This goes to say that there is a possibility his death should not be regretted or viewed as a negative, nor countered as a positive. His death was rather a necessity, a response, in a way, of balance and control that this "life" undeniably seems to hold over humanity. Not to say that Gatsby was a bad person. He was not, nor is it possible to say that death should only be inflicted upon those who are. It is possible that the concept of "going ahead" is not a pleasant one, as life seems to view it in the least, not to say it is not intriguing. Revisiting the past, however, is another story.

Obama On: Climate Change

Obama: No greater threat to future than climate change
By: Madison Park
Source: CNN
http://edition.cnn.com/2015/01/21/us/climate-change-us-obama/

     In his recent State of the Union Address, President Barack Obama made it a point to emphasize that the most extensive problem in, not only the United States but the world as a whole, is the continuous affect that climate change is having on it. Aside from his undeniable placement of significance on the issue, many either remain ambivalent or oppose it firmly. He, however, took it into his hands to state the need for change, to protect "the one planet we've got" (Park, 1). Through his use of logos with an underlying hint of pathos, Obama stated facts such as the year 2014 being the warmest year since the advent of record keeping, as well as the concern that fourteen out of the fifteen recorded warmest years have been from the start of the year 2000. Throughout the years, the United States cannot say it has done its part in reducing the adverse effects of climate change, refusing to ratify the Kyoto Protocol (working to reduce greenhouse gas emissions) as well as failing to handle carbon cuts. Under Obama, however, an agreement with China has been made between both countries (being the two most air-polluting countries in the world, with US falling second to China) claiming to work to reduce greenhouse gas emissions throughout the next twenty years. In his speech, Obama mentioned the effects of this act as encouragement for other countries to take part and make a change within their own nations. By placing a key focus on climate change, Obama has shifted concerns not only to where the US and the world as a whole stands now in present times, but where it will stand throughout the upcoming decades and generations to come.

601 S. Fairfax Avenue

     Now I am not one for extravagance, nor do I enjoy grand banquet halls with parking lots full of overly priced cars where doors slide upwards justifying the price to be $100,000 more than what you would like to pay. Yet in the midst of all extravagance, it is impossible to not fall into the pit of luxury every now and then, which is why if ever in the process of planning a Gatsby-style party, I would select the venue to be, obviously, the largest, grandest, most extravagant palace known to man, found at none other than 601 S. Fairfax Ave. Los Angeles, CA 90036, the Beverly Hills 99 Cent Store; and let me tell you why that is. When given the opportunity for endless possibility, not locked within the confines of money, one may automatically err towards the most expensive, the grandest, the largest. These bore me considerably. What interests me however, is irony, of which is found in no greater amounts than that which lies in the 99 Cent Store, which will be rented out to me and my guests. And with this, every item in the store, now being rented, will essentially be free. And frankly, I used to find no larger fascination than that of the concept of a store where everything is 99 cents. Well now, it is all free for my guest to enjoy, to bathe in pools of bad-quality office supplies, brooms that Armenian grandmas always seem to have, and borderline expired food. Now the guest list should remain interesting. At first I considered public invitations, announcements to let all know, yet found boredom in that, a lack of surprise in announcing the presence of a party in the store. And so I decided to leave my guests uninvited, as they themselves will have indirect invitations, being that my guests will be regular shoppers of the store, walking in innocently on a quiet, seemingly casual Friday night, merely to purchase a potted cactus and make their way home with no bother to anyone, only to be shocked at the presence of balloons and confetti paraded onto them as they step into the store while the amplified voices of all the guests screech "SURPRISE" loudly, doing their best to be heard over the deafening music of 80s contemporary rock to which the entire building vibrates. After all, there is no better party than one which is a surprise.

     It is here, amongst all this booming fun, where the party can take a turn towards overly fussy and complicated. I do not desire gold-studded macaroons or caviar. I do not want steak or lobster, or a long list of food that cannot be pronounced by many. And as I stop to think about my menu, I find myself in the food aisles of the 99 Cent Store. How perfect! What better food to serve my guests than that which lies around us? And I am sure all of it is organic, or most of it at least, or maybe 17% of it; the point is, great quality food! And drinks, only the best for my guests; the finest, most extravagant, beautifully aged 99 cent wines, all other alcohol in those beautifully portioned mini bottles of which hundreds lay in the store, and only the freshest ice-cold juices from cans. Now that the food is covered, entertainment is at hand. And as the stores next door come barging in with complaints on the volume of the 80s rock that continues to blast from the stereo system we kindly borrowed from the store, I do not hear them as the music is very loud. I assume they are here to compliment me on my party, give them a huge hug, and let them in. Well into the night, the music is beginning to bore me, especially since it is the same song being played over and over again. Although the song was "U Can't Touch This", that is still no excuse. So I did what anyone in my position would have done. I called over one of those Armenian DJ's that plays the same five songs over and over again at Armenian sweet-sixteens and weddings (both held at the same banquet halls), and knew that this party was well under way. Now I had a list of performers I wanted to invite to sing, but most of them were dead. There had to be another option; so I thought, "What is the next best thing to people? Clowns", and so I called some over. Now all humans all the time are quite boring, and so I decided a few dozen chickens running around the place would suffice, considering several shelves had been knocked down by all the dancing and there was plenty of room now for the chickens to graze freely. At about 3 a.m. when we were about halfway into our festivities, I decided to bring the 2-ton disco ball down, and believe it or not, more of the lovely neighbors from across the street had come to join (I assumed that is why they came over, I could not hear them again, although their faces seemed quite angry but I assumed it was because they had not found out about the party sooner). I hugged them once more and let them in.

     It was nearing the end of the night (and the hours of my rent of the store) at around 5 a.m. I looked around at the knocked down shelves and shattered wine bottles everywhere, the disco ball of which half was pulverized on the floor, and the large shattering of the glass in the window of the store which I assume had been caused by the Superman impersonator I had called over at about 3:30 a.m.; I do not remember much. Anyways, what I am trying to say is that the store was not in the "exceptionally clean with not a single item out of place" condition that was written on my rental contract and that I had agreed to with the manager, and I had to think of a way of explaining this. Yet on second thought, I was quite tired, and noticed the DJ still dancing and playing music, not realizing that everyone was asleep. And so I went over and offered him the rent saying that he could do whatever he wanted with the place and it was all his. He seemed very excited, though I am not sure why, considering the rent ended at 5:30 a.m. and the manager had just pulled up in front of the store as I exited and made my way to eat some breakfast. I think I wanted pancakes.

after-hours

 at my party, you will be greeted with a SMILE

 people waiting in line to enter my party

 fresh

the balloons scream "party"

Big Cat Big Fish Little Man

The Strange World Of Manuel Archain, An Artist Who Photographs His Dreams
Source: Huffington Post
By: Alessandro Luigi Perna
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/01/15/surreal-photographs-manue_n_6472474.html?utm_hp_ref=arts

     Contemporary photographer Manuel Archain (thirty-one years old) from Argentina is gradually beginning to rise to fame. His work, exhibited in Lugano Italy, presents surrealism in a form where it unquestionably cannot be denied, a photograph. As curator of the exhibit Barbara Malacrida states, Archain's work "concentrates on man as the protagonist of a messy, complex, poetic and oneiric society. An analysis of the aesthetic ambiguity of seeming" (Perna, 1). By choosing photography as his means of capturing his visions, Archain has managed to present an altered form of reality in a way that appears real, actual. He began, at first, by working within the confines of reality, including no edits or post-production on his photographs, limited only to what the eye could see, what was actually there. Yet after some time, he realized that what he truly wanted to do was depict his thoughts and dreams, a majority of which were surreal. By allowing his mind and imagination to surpass the restrictions of reality, Archain was able to depict that which is deemed impossible, in a form that only serves to capture that which is real, allowing his works to become "surreal and real at the same time" (Perna, 1).
    Photography, from the time of its invention, has served a central purpose of capturing reality in a way that cannot be questioned or denied. It has become a form of preservation of the truth. Yet what Archain has managed to do goes against all preconceived notions of this form of preservation, presenting the viewer with a form that seems real, yet holds within it a convoluted mass of dreams and imagination. And as one's eyes grow accustomed to such scenes, they simultaneously open up to possibility. As the often too serious perception of life manages to exit one's mind, a new form of life opens up, one which sees no limitations, one which sees minimum seriousness in reality, taking life lightheartedly, as it was meant to be taken.

I'm Ugly, You're Ugly, We're All Ugly!

Art Exhibition Champions Blemishes, Pimples, Scars And Other Glorious Flaws

By: Priscilla Frank

Source: Huffington Post

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/01/09/fetching-blemish-_n_6437120.html?utm_hp_ref=arts

     "For much of the world, a zit is something to be eradicated, a pimple covered up. Wrinkles, scars, bumps and blemishes of any kind are best hidden and hopefully obliterated, bringing the host of said flaws one step closer to physical perfection" (Frank, 1).

     The ideal of society is perfection; a lack of external flaws, repressed ignorance towards internal ones, the desire to hide what is real because, in all actuality, reality is not what is desired. Yet with all its bearing irony, art, the most idealistic and barrier-free natural phenomenas is able to depict such reality truer than humanity itself. "Fetching Blemish", an exhibition at Invisible Exports is dedicated to this reality of flaws, discoloration, blemishes, chipped teeth, the slightest fifteen degree misalignment of one's nose. A combination of the works of several artists, the show mainly focuses on portraiture, specifically that of an imperfect nature, not merely depicting physical flaws, but expressing those which "make us who we are" (Frank, 1). A few artists responsible for these works include Genieve Figgis, Rebecca Morgan, Cindy Sherman, Nicole Eisenman; mainly females, the reason for which can be left to interpretation. The art consists of self-portraits, unrealistically real, as well as external depictions of generality, yearning to provoke the acceptance of differences, especially those within oneself, the act of which is uncommon to most.

     All that stains the angelic white depiction of man with the slightest dent or tarnish is ugly. And "ugly" has become a word largely generalized, commonly placed upon all aspects of life and humanity that it has come to represent merely that which one is not used to seeing, while the concept's subjective and man-made origins have all but been forgotten. But when one truly manages to think, what is this "ugly" claimed to be seen in people? Is it truly that which is undesirable, or merely that which is not known, uncommon? The human eye needs sight of imperfection graced upon the individual, sight of what lies beyond all that is used to hide what is real. The human eye needs sight of flaws, differences, "ugliness", a sight of that, which many have not yet been exposed to; themselves.

The Italian Mafia

     As the number of Italian immigrants coming into America saw a sharp increase in the late 1800s, carrying onto the early 1900s, there were, of course, several in the groups who engaged in crime, specifically in New York where the Italian population increased by over 200,000. With the onset of the Prohibition era in the United States also came a sudden rise of the American Mafia, often referred to as the Italian Mafia, or simply, the Mafia, an Italian American organized criminal society prevalent in New York and Chicago specifically. With the banning of alcohol, the Mafia was able to successfully take part in the illegal buying and selling of it, often selling it for much higher prices. Soon, these criminal groups became organized, turning themselves into structured networks of crime, engaging in smuggling, money laundering, bribing, bootlegging. With the progression of the Prohibition, conflict broke out between the two largest gangs in New York City, with the victor being a man by the name of Salvatore Maranzano who claimed himself as boss of the Mafia. He was soon killed by a mobster with the name Lucky Luciano, who instead of labeling his single self as the boss, formed a center of power called the Commission (in New York), organizing the American Mafia. New York contained five main Mafia families while most others contained only one. With membership into the Mafia came many rules and rituals, the first being an initiation ceremony. All members had to be of Italian decent. It was common, yet not always seen, that men would have to engage in a murder before becoming a member, a position in which they could not get out of. They pledged to a code of silence, wherein they promised their loyalty to the organization and the members, not being allowed to give away any information on the whereabouts of both, even if their lives or safety were at hand. All the boss' commands were to be obeyed. They would commonly provide help to the other members if needed, and if attacking the family of any member, revenge was necessary with the approval of the boss. The Mafia followed a hierarchal structure, with the head or "boss" on the top, often called "Godfather", receiving a share of the money earned by those below him, who consisted of people in positions similar to that of a police force, with rankings based on comparison to that of the boss. Some names of common mobsters: George Clarence "Bugs" Moran, Alphonse Gabriel Capone (Al Capone), Tony Accardo, Dutch Shultz.

 Al Capone

George Clarence "Bugs" Moran

Tony Accardo

http://www.history.com/topics/mafia-in-the-united-states
https://lifeinthetwenties.wikispaces.com/Mafia+in+the+1920s
http://www.mafiamob.com/history.htm