Ranting & Raving

The Pioneer looks back at the best part of some of its producers’ applications.

On February 5th, The Pioneer celebrated its third birthday. In honor of the occasion, we decided to look back at the applications of some of the producers on staff. One of things we ask for in the application is to rant about something that really pisses them off. These rants help us get a better look at not just the applicants’ writings, but also the passion they can bring to the table.

So, without further ado, a look back at some of our favorite rants from some of our favorite producers:

2nd Year Associate Producer: I’m a pretty tolerant person. I’m not racist, sexist, anti-Semitic, or any of the other horrible things that Mel Gibson claims not to be. Yet, in spite of this progressiveness, there is still one group that retains my unabashed hatred. Like the Biblical locusts, these vile travelers are heard long before they are seen. Their echoes pollute the relative calm of any regional airport. They can be identified by the sighs of flight attendants and the groans of airline baggage handlers. These are the scum of humanity: these are the people who carry on wheeled suitcases. If there is anything as symbolic of the pains and errs of our modern consumerist society, it is the wheeled suitcase. For centuries, our human ancestors lived quite well possessing only that which they could carry with their own two hands; there were no wheels around to coddle and aid them. How presumptuous are we to eschew this minimalism for the sake of an extra shampoo or an “emergency” pair of high heels? I long for a return to the frugality of times past. I long for a time when human resourcefulness, not a pitiful reliance on wheels, rules the airport.

3rd Year Senior Producer: Political correctness pisses me off sometimes. Let’s say, for example, you’re a 25-year-old white woman who wants to marry a husband and take care of your kids at home because God-forbid you want to spend time with your own children. But wait, no, you should second guess yourself because society would frown upon your decision and say that you don’t actually want to but that you feel inclined to due to a hegemonic social pressure to conform. You have to go against the grain because otherwise you are not only reinforcing gender stereotypes, but also perceived as weak for giving into the gender stereotypes. So even though your actual desire in life is to play the stereotypical woman, you feel pressure to not do what you want because society tells you that it should not be what you want. People that say “go against the grain” should not discourage those who want to go “with the grain” (a grain that really isn’t the grain anymore since so many people go against it) from doing what they truly desire. Going against the grain is doing your own thing. So, do whatever the heck you want and don’t listen to the inevitable judgements.

2nd Year Associate Producer: Ignorance. The art, the science, the compulsory lurching from point A to point B to point A to point B in a matchstick car; my friend, do you call that movement? Does your breathing mean something to you? If it stopped, for a moment, for a year, for a decade, would you know? Have you ever felt your heart beating in your chest, the sensation in your fingertips, the pins of fire of adrenaline shooting through your veins? Do you feel it now? Why are you ignoring yourself, ignoring your ability to mount your already limited but intrinsically inalienable perspective, ignoring the hard questions you’ll never ask or ask again or again, ignoring the WHY THE F**K that separates human from machine? Think! Open your eyes, your mind, your f**king soul and breathe in the drafty uncertainty of “your” time. What ownership can you claim to a mechanized spittle you glaze by, until your line is cut scissor-clean or frayed or stretched gasping; it doesn’t matter, because it is gone.

2nd Year Senior Producer: I think something that gets me really riled up these days is how people don’t look up enough. I truly despise how cell phones and technology have taken over many of our lives. I am certainly guilty of it, too, but it makes me deeply sad about our human condition. There was a commercial I saw recently – I think Campbell’s Soup – and it showed two people having dinner, not acknowledging one another because both were so focused upon their phones. I’ve seen it multiple times, and it pains me each time because I do not want to accept the reality of how many people interact with one another these days. The lack of interpersonal relationships is masked by this desire to look, be, and act perfectly. Our phones and profiles allow us to become something or someone that we are not. It shocks me how many people do not like social media but still allow it to consume their lives. I can only wish for a day without the social pressures, but I am not sure that there will ever not exist… I truly believe that we do have a choice, however, as I have tried to take matters into my own hands and limit my use – deleting social media apps off your cellular device can really change things. I want to see the world for what it really is – through my own eyes. So, to all the world, I must yell, LOOK UP, PEOPLE!

4th Year Senior Producer (WARNING: NSFW): I like–no love, to buff the muff. Pearl dive, part the pink sea, flick the bean, whatever you call it. Female masturbation is empowering and healthy; yet it is still disgustingly stigmatized. Female masturbation is rarely acknowledged; but when it is, it’s labeled slutty, freakish, and unnatural. Men are “allowed” to masturbate, and images of men masturbating are normalized in film and TV. It’s even f**king funny to see or hear about some jerkwad jacking off like in those stupid American Pie movies or substance-less Seth Rogan/James Franco films. But, there is little to no discussion or representation of female self-pleasure–except in porn, of course. Ah yes, f**king porn. What the hell is with porn? For one, the female orgasm DOES NOT only occur from the magical work of a thrusting penis. STOP shaming different sexual preferences and perpetuating singular views about what the female body should look like. Challenge the stigma; because ALL humans, not just males, can satisfy themselves sexually. No societal standard is going to undermine my pussy. I will paddle the pink canoe, double-click the mouse, and wax the flesh taco, because MY sexuality is in my own hands…or vibrating devices.

3rd Year Associate Producer: In America, anger is bliss. Yet, rather than lambasting reality TV star (and now president) Donald Trump and flaunting my political opinion, I would prefer to incite a more profound social matter than petty politics. Avoiding redundancy, I hope to apprise you with my remaining characters about the injustices experienced by the journalists of America’s finest news source: The Onion. Here, in the land of the free, a war rages between witty sarcasm and bitter naivety. This is an exposé on the stupidity of shallow readers. Some believe that satire, which blurs the lines between truth and absurdity, is a direct assault on individual freedom and therefore it should be crushed. Should we perform an exorcism on modern media to expel the demons? With any luck, my children will be smart enough to pick up on petty irony and learn to find joy in it rather than shrivel up and hiss like a wounded tom cat. For love of Vonnegut why can’t people realize that their tinfoil hats are not helmets? Every day the journalistic integrity of The Onion is fired upon by the force of a thousand angry soccer moms, simply because some readers are too damn ignorant to recognize criticism as an obligatory component to a progressive society.

2nd Year Senior Producer: 9:55AM. It’s as if they have nowhere to go. Mindlessly dragging their feet against the concrete, they blubber about last night’s drunken stupors and Trin catastrophes to giggling escorts. They seem to have forgotten our God-given right to put one foot in front of the other, as they halt all actions for every text, every familiar face, every single squirrel. While they boast many many in-capabilities, they do manage to position themselves strategically, leaving no gaps for moving past without an intense game of Red Rover. Meanwhile, they continue to abide by a motto similar to that of the tortoise in The Tortoise and the Hare, causing the small amount of morning optimism and leftover coffee to drain from all those stuck behind them. I look down at my watch, in the hopes that maybe today, time will be on my side. 10:01AM. Nope.

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