Eighth Grade, a movie that accurately depicts the lives of middle school students, is rated R, meaning that actual middle school-aged teenagers need to have accompanied by an accompanying parent or adult guardian to see it. I saw Eighth Grade with my little brother who just graduated from eighth grade. At the local theater where we saw it, they had a new sign reiterating the establishment’s prohibition policy, obviously a result of teenagers wanting to see the movie. Interest among teenagers across the country led the studio behind the film to offer special free all-ages screenings in all fifty states, which had so many young attendees that some theaters had to quickly add second screenings to accommodate them. The movie has gone from being shown in four theaters nationwide a few weeks ago to over a thousand theaters this week.
The Environmental Protection Agency is currently lifting limits on lead paint and asbestos. And, despite the allure of America’s favorite murderous foam, these new policies are potentially deadly for people in the South Bronx and other historically redlined neighborhoods.
Honestly, I’m shocked these two albums ever came out in the first place, but here we are, and the results are mixed. Both albums were debuted via listening parties live-streamed on WAV, an app that I’d never heard of before Kanye tweeted about it.
By now my Instagram, and honestly just my personage in general, has become kind of a meme here at the paper. However when I started using Instagram at first, it was completely by accident. I originally wanted nothing to do with social media, and looking back it would probably would have been a lot better for my sanity if I hadn’t gotten involved in the first place. My friend actually made my account for me, and as a result, I didn’t really use it much. As time went on, I did begin to post more stuff on there-events and the like, ever so often.
Hey there. How is goin’, bein’ a senior and stuff? Is it weird? It is totally weird for us. We don’t really know where or how to start. Well, I guess we’ll miss you. Your ultimate creativity, generosity, humor, and intellect have made the paper what it is currently.
I’ve been thinking about how to start this article for years. I don’t mean that as hyperbole. The first time I read a deadit I was a freshmen and the editor for the News section. I’d spent months reading articles about depressing news all over the world and nothing hit my heart quite as hard as raw emotion poured into these articles. I was nervous that I would never be quite as devoted as the staff writing these articles. Then the months went by and I fell in love with the paper and eventually the day came where I had to give up being a co-editor chief (shout out to all my incredible co-editors through the years, but especially actual real-life talented journalist, Luis motherfucking Gomez), leaving the paper felt like tearing a piece out of my heart. I haven’t come back to the print shop since I turned the lights off on my last day. I don’t know if I could ever take another last time in that place.
Sometimes less is more for a title ok? It’s also a reference ok? Get out.…
5:19 AM- We leave the house, 19 minutes behind schedule. I feel bad because yesterday my dad and I were talking about how we were going to leave at 5 AM sharp, unless the ladies slowed us down.
How did I get started with the paper? The same way I did everything at Fordham: chaotically, and with little planning involved. Like many of you, I scrambled to sign up for and try every club I could as a freshman. I remember being enticed by the weird but welcoming energy of the paper, like some avant-garde collective pulled from the pages of a Jack Kerouac novel. My interest was always casual – I was far too inexperienced at Photoshop to help on any design issues, so I slowly worked my way in through Earwax reviews and the occasional op-ed.
I think the strangest part about writing this is that I still can’t believe I actually even started writing for a Fordham campus newspaper. I waited until the beginning of my junior year to even try. I have some pretty vivid memories of my first paper meeting: one, I was terrified and two, I had way too many ideas. I actually managed to get two articles in my very first issue.