Did you Know? Jurassic Park Is A Book Too!

It was a Saturday in late July, and I was far too sick to go outside to get the farmer’s tan I had been promising myself since winter. With yet another shitty Jurassic Park sequel hitting the theaters, I figured I would watch the decent original for the first time since I was young enough to actually know the names of the film’s unwitting, dinosaurian villains. I quickly realized that the film was essentially a rehashing of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: a one-dimensional warning that what we “ought” and “can” do aren’t exactly one in the same.

The Holy Trinity of Anti-Pop: A Genre of Musical Fluidity

I love pants. Jeans, chinos, joggers – you name it, I wear it. The allure of showing off my prize-winning calves in a pair of shorts on a hot summer day pales in comparison to the way my denim-clad string bean legs contrast with the crisp golden hues of Fordham’s fall foliage. Personally, I like to cuff the legs of my pants twice; one cuff would cause my trousers to ride low on my ankles and awkwardly graze my Stan Smiths, but three cuffs would expose too much ankle, thereby compromising my warmth and masculinity. All cuffs aside, the headphones I hold in my left pocket are the most crucial component of any walk around campus I have ever found myself on, and nine times out of ten I could have been found listening to the same genre: anti-pop.