The Lumberjack



Students Serving The Cal Poly Humboldt Campus and Community Since 1929

Category: Opinion

  • What does a naked actress have to do with sports?

    What does a naked actress have to do with sports?

    By Jacqueline Zuniga

    If you’re on social media, you’ve probably seen a lot of controversy surrounding Sydney Sweeney. Once again, it’s an ad. This time it’s not about what jeans she’s wearing but what she’s not wearing. With football season nearing, the ad features a nude Sweeney using sports equipment to cover herself and pretending to play for the purpose of promoting the sports betting app Novig.

    What does nudity have to do with sports? Novig used Sweeney’s sex appeal to grab the audience’s attention, but at what cost? Whatever the reason is, it was exploitative and a slap in the face for women athletes and women at large. 

    “The highlight of my dislike was not towards Sydney Sweeney, but actually, the company and the companies that make this ad, or that made this ad, and the editors — the amount of people that had to approve this for this to be posted on such a wide scale,” said Vice President of the rugby club Rio Ross-Hirsh, a junior journalism major. 

    According to the Northeastern Global News, Sweeney gained an equity stake and a role as a strategic partner for Novig. Women athletes work hard every day to prove themselves in ways male athletes don’t, and to advertise betting on sports in such a promiscuous way is stupid and disrespectful.

    “It takes about double — if not triple — the amount of time and effort for a female to get that attention and recognition for their hard work and the amount of effort that is being put in because it’s not seen as the same,” said safety officer of the rugby club Acacia Crouch, a senior zoology major.

    If they wanted to gain attention from the mainstream media, they could have gotten an athlete or someone who isn’t controversial to promote their app. Like, go ahead and hit up LeBron James; he’d probably do it. I found it unnecessary to display a nude woman covering herself in basketballs to promote a sports betting app. 

    Throughout social media, I have seen people responding to the ad with montages of women athletes and their hard work. There is so much blood, sweat and tears being shed behind the scenes.

    “This is completely an overly optimistic silver lining, that most of the content I have seen on my Instagram and other social media has been super empowering and majorly pushing back against the narrative that Sydney Sweeney has created,” said triathlon athlete Averill Payne, an environmental science major and junior.

    Women for centuries have been trying to get taken seriously and not be sexualised, but this feels like a big setback. Sports are supposed to be a space for empowerment and hard work — not nudity. 

    “Kind of bringing that idea, that women are kind of only worth their body, and I think that [they’re] in a place that they could have put a female athlete or highlight a female sport, and especially the growth of women’s sports,” said Ross-Hirsh. 

    Women will continue to prevail and show off all of their hard work. After many years of hard work, they have a lot of support from people all around the world. A lot of little girls might aspire to be like them, just like I did growing up watching Alex Morgan and Amy Wambach play soccer. 

    Jacqueline is the super duper cool sports editor, social media manager for LJ and news manager for KRFH. 

  • Why Do I Do This to Myself?

    Why Do I Do This to Myself?

    By Keziah Rutschow

    Here’s the thing: beyond paying rent and tuition, the stress we put ourselves under to juggle every opportunity in our lives isn’t necessary. Every addition added to your schedule is a choice.

    Personally, I could’ve gone down easier routes to help pay for things. Yet I keep choosing the more interesting, time-consuming options because, if you are anything like me, you may have a terrible case of FOMO (which I likely inherited from my mom).

    I struggle to understand why I put so much on my plate. I bet a lot of you ask yourself the same question while walking to a lab, heading to a second job, or starting your day at the crack of dawn. You are not alone. But if you feel pressured to add one more thing to your plate, let me tell you what I learned after two years of recurring pressure as a student: it’s not social media telling me to do this or a classmate mentioning their cool summer internship; it’s me.

    I came into college as a student-athlete expecting to be busy, but not nearly as busy as I am now. Living on 5 a.m. practices and seven hours of sleep, on a good day. I learned to work smarter, not harder. I became best friends with good ol’ time management. Yet no amount of scheduled Google Calendar hangouts and practice times makes these things any less tiring.

    At the end of my first year, I added a paid job on top of athletics and a full course load. I had an amazing opportunity that I felt like I couldn’t give up. By sophomore year, I chose a minor after my advisors steered me away from double majoring. Then I took a second position with way more hours. Student-athlete, hopefully double major in progress, fifteen paid hours weekly, and a social life with many people I love. Even listing it out exhausts me. 

    Saying yes to every opportunity thrown at you is difficult to manage. You must ask yourself if the exhaustion, resume, money, etc. is worth it. If you say yes, it is worth it; all I ask is that you treat rest not as something you have to earn, but as something necessary.

    Stressful periods are normal and okay, but what matters is framing self-care as something that isn’t optional, it can’t just be a one-time spa day. It’s reflecting on what genuinely recharges you and then carving out intentional time the same way you’d carve out time for class or a shift. For me, it looks like leaving an unreasonable amount of time to get ready in the morning, or a nap at 5 p.m. even when there are class readings left undone. Even asking a professor for an extension because you need the day for something other than school, unapologetically.

    If you couldn’t finish class readings and you’re stuck eating PB&J’s because meal prep doesn’t exist. That’s not failure; sometimes that’s how the cookie crumbles, as my boss says. 

    Keziah is the science editor with an interest in crime & justice and politics

  • Lumbersnack: Pizza lover 

    Lumbersnack: Pizza lover 

    By Alba Galvan

    As a pizza lover and busy student, I frequently need a pick-me-up, but I don’t like the pizza the school offers us; it always looks like it’s been sitting out far too long for comfort. After looking up ways to make easy on-the-go pizza snacks, I stumbled upon rice cake pizza. 

    I enjoy eating rice cakes, and the different flavors allow me to make different types of snacks, but making a pizza as a snack had never occurred to me until I laid my hands on the beautiful creation of Tomato and Basil rice cakes.

    Ingredients: 

    2 Rice cakes — I recommend the Lightly Salted or Tomato and Basil 

    2 tablespoons marinara sauce 

    1/4 cup shredded cheese — I use mozzarella, but feel free to use your favorite 

    6-8 pepperoni slices (optional) 

    Step #1: 

    Preheat your oven or air fryer to 375 and place 2 rice cakes on a baking sheet. 

    Step #2: 

    On one side of the rice cakes, cover each with a layer of marinara sauce. 

    Step #3: 

    Distribute the 1/4 cup of shredded cheese between both rice cakes over the sauce. 

    Step #4: 

    Place toppings over the cheese — this is optional. I like adding pepperoni, or you can add slices of ham and pineapple for Hawaiian rice cake pizza too. This recipe allows you to really make it your own, so add your favorite toppings! 

    Step #5:

    Cook rice cakes in an air fryer or oven for 5-7 minutes. 

    Step #6:

    Enjoy! 

    Alba Galvan is a junior journalism major and opinion editor for the Lumberjack. She enjoys listening to people’s opinions with an open mind. You can reach her at agg83@humboldt.edu. 

  • Ukraine is Better Off Without America 

    Ukraine is Better Off Without America 

    By Tatiana H Moore

    The United States of America is no longer a valuable ally, and we need to stop pretending that it is. Not that I needed to go to Ukraine to find myself with this opinion, but I did. I just got back from a three month stint in Ukraine where after visiting family, I volunteered and also worked at a summer camp for children of affected families. My relationship with Ukraine is more than just ancestral. I speak the language, I advocate, I get involved, and I even work for a Ukrainian American Non Government Organization (NGO).

     I never thought I would advocate for the US to leave Ukraine alone. For years, the U.S has touted itself as Ukraine’s greatest ally in the fight against Russia, but I disagree. The meetings with Putin, diminishing Financial aid packages, and hemming and hawing on air defense have only served to center the U.S in a conflict that Ukraine should be central to. American officials continue to position Washington as a necessary middleman between Kyiv and Moscow, while Ukraine is left having to respond to proposals that directly affect its territory and sovereignty. A country that believes the best solution for Ukraine is to cede territory and withdraw its EU application is no ally of Ukraine. 

    The U.S. needs to understand that Ukraine is not a chessboard for American foreign policy. The U.S. has every right to decide how it spends American money and what role it wants to play internationally, but what it does not have is the moral authority to decide what Ukrainians should sacrifice for peace. In my humble opinion, Ukraine is better off without the U.S. 

    There is an uncomfortable history with America’s relationship to Ukraine that I rarely hear discussed. In 1994, Ukraine agreed to surrender its nuclear arsenal, an arsenal that made it the third-largest nuclear power in the world at the time. In return, Ukraine joined the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and received security assurances from the United States, explicitly affirming respect for Ukraine’s sovereignty, independence, and existing borders. This deal was made by the United States and helped create the conditions Ukraine finds itself in today. The U.S. has a responsibility to remember this history and more importantly, to uphold the promises made, but that hope has long been lost ever since the U.S. sat by and watched the annexation of Crimea in 2014. 

    The U.S has played a major role in supporting Ukraine, particularly through military and financial assistance, and while I do believe this support has been important, the time has come for America to bow out. Europe’s role has grown substantially as U.S support has declined. Europe has provided military aid, financial support, humanitarian aid, refugee support and training of Ukrainian soldiers. If Europe, a continent directly threatened by Russian aggression, can increasingly shoulder the responsibility of supporting Ukraine. Why does Washington still need to position itself as the indispensable leader of Ukraine’s future? 

    Tatiana H Moore is a senior journalism major and a reporter/writer with LJ thm18@humboldt.edu

  • Getting Scammed Sucks

    Getting Scammed Sucks

    The state of housing scams in Humboldt County

    By Winter Music

    After two years living on the beautiful Humboldt campus sharing a dorm room with strangers and experiencing back pain from the mattresses, I chose to start looking for off-campus housing. Who would think a cozy town like Arcata would be plagued by scammers? But then again, what else can you expect from random websites like Craigslist or Facebook Marketplace. Getting bait and switched from a listing on the Humboldt.edu rental listings resources was a different level of upsetting.

    I spent about a month believing that I would soon get my own apartment. Panicked by the thought of losing a good housing opportunity, I forgot to be cautious. I sent the down payment and we scheduled a time to meet when I realized that someone was living in, what I thought was, my apartment. I had a sinking feeling I had taken risks I didn’t need to by sending deposit money before meeting the “landlord” in person. I didn’t make sure that the way I sent money could be cancelled, and I didn’t walk away when I first had doubts. When I went to the house, the “landlord” had dropped off the face of the planet. Suddenly, all the worries and concerns I had started to make more sense. I freaked out when I realized how bad the mistake I had just made was, but the damage had been done. I learned the hard way that small towns like Arcata can scam you just like everywhere else.

    While that website I got scammed on has been removed and replaced by a list of reputable rental companies, it’s important to know that scammers can find their way into places you might not expect. So when you take the leap, and move from campus into your own place, be sure to never send over any money until you’ve been to the location in person, met the landlord and signed documents.

    Winter Music, Copy Editor, wlm38@humboldt.edu

  • Charli xcx Music, Fashion, Film Review

    Charli xcx Music, Fashion, Film Review

    By Will Bishop

    Following the release of 2024’s titanic brat, Charli xcx found herself very suddenly atop a high precipice. Simultaneously a newly minted megastar and a critical darling — that rarefied breed of artist who can reach the highest echelons of cultural influence while losing none of their artistic vitality.

    Music, Fashion, Film is a highly intimate, deeply personal album with no interest in following up brat as a sequel, but every interest in exploring its impact, particularly the world of limitless opportunities and boundless dreamseeking it opened up for Charli and her tightly wound social scene. Many pop stars maintain a strident commitment to the idea that they really are just like you. They’re still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago, so don’t stop buying all those deluxe editions, because we are in this together. Charli has no interest in selling that image to you. But she isn’t braggadocious either, rather, the album is a delicate treatise on lifelong obsessions, lifelong anxieties, and the enduring endlessness of art. 

    With the club aesthetics and sounds of brat decisively stripped away, the album is sonically dissimilar to anything Charli has ever done. At a glance, Charli and longtime producer A. G. Cook turned in their turntables for guitars, but their trademark digital stylings still feel ever present and clearly recognizable.

    Introductory track “Rock Music” starts things off with a very classically NYC feeling, ironic anthem, its twitchy, insistent little toy synth, and Charli’s paradoxically earnest sarcasm are reminiscent of an LCD Soundsystem track in the best ways possible. Allergic to metaphor, it’s largely an album in which Charli speaks directly about whatever’s on her mind, whether a sonic love letter to her producer in the form of “Magic Metal Montana,” or her desires to enter the film industry and her relationship with fame on “Camera”.

    One exception to this is “Persona,” a track in which Charli utilizes a clever multipronged approach, playing on the modern fascination with easter egg hunting in pop music and Ingmar Bergman’s 1966 masterpiece Persona to create a bizarre surrealist take on the pop diss track. In a highlight moment at the beginning of “I’m Afraid” — likely the grimmest and most soul-baring track on the album, Charli gently sings “Happiness came in a box.” The true genius of the lyric, and the nature of the song itself, is revealed only when you remember one key word, fashion.

    As the album draws to a close, with David Cronenberg softly and creepily hypnotizing you into accepting your own mortality and the mortality of your favorite celebrities, Charli’s current era of pure insatiability begins to make perfect sense. It is, in its own way, a tacit admission that this thing, whether it’s life or just a moment in life. Will fade. Will pass. Will cease to be. So do what you can, while you can. Whether it’s music, fashion, film or all three all at once, every single day for the rest of your life.

    Will Bishop is a Cal Poly Humboldt journalism major. He is prone to writing essays about things that bother him and fictional works about things that also bother him, but in different ways. 

  • Do You Believe in My New Band Believe?

    Do You Believe in My New Band Believe?

    By Will Bishop

    The foundations of My New Band Believe and their titular debut album came to Cameron Picton in a fever dream while under the throes of food poisoning, far away from home in a Chinese hotel room while on tour with his previous band, black midi. The name, and a handful of other phrases, became stuck in his mind, eventually coalescing into the project some years later. The music and songwriting very much reflect this, rife with surrealist imagery and lavish sonic cacophony, filled with euphoric highs and long dark tunnels.

    Love Story, the first track released off the album, initially reads as a gentle musing on domestic life refracted through little moments. “You sing along to your favourite songs. But you don’t know the words. So you make up your own.” Then a harsh aura builds in the string section, giving way to frightful and nightmarish imagery. “A mеtal spike from the sky. Precisе and poisoned. Somehow avoided me.”


    Hopeful and optimistic phrases are spoken like a mantra, beguiling you into peering deeper beyond the shimmering surface. The ostinato — a musical pattern that is consistently  repeated at the same pitch throughout a composition — of Target Practice telling you over and over again “Don’t cry, you deserve this,” has a soothing, almost therapeutic quality — until you start to wonder what exactly it’s telling you that you deserve. The verses reveal a world of pain. The narrator tells you that you deserve what you have given, promising you desecration beyond death.

    The towering Heart of Darkness pushes the album’s shapeshifting approach to its furthest extreme. Playful flamenco guitars fill your ears with bright color as the unease of its lyricism mounts. “Open up, I have come too far to run. My, my, my, what have you done?” Picton breathes, pulling back dark clouds with a moment of musical bliss only to reveal night has fallen beyond the veil as you circle a black drain in the sky that spits you back out, eventually lowering you down on the feather of an angel’s wilting wing.

    For all its musical virtuosity, My New Band Believe is often reserved, as if hiding in the thorny bramble of its instrumentation. If you follow the vine of a blackberry bush down its ever winding path, counting every overlap, every splintering, every leaf, then it is a complex thing indeed. But, it is internally inaccessible, only offering its outward appearance and the fruits held on its distant edges. It does not offer its innermost complexities, rather, it leverages them into an impenetrable fortress. A yaegaki, fences within fences. But, the album is at its best when it’s letting you in. At times, it can look so impossible. Thorn bushes made of nylon string. Like a non-euclidean horse with legs melting long and tangling together. Then, suddenly, its aestivating worm appendages unswirl, its sinewy muscles tighten back to life, exploding into a triumphant gallop. In those moments, you will believe Cameron Picton can fly. “Speak of the dragon and the dragon shall appear at last.”

    Will Bishop is a Cal Poly Humboldt journalism major. He is prone to writing essays about things that bother him, and fictional works about things that also bother him but in different ways. A highly bothered individual, and a lover of cinema, music, and large trees/rocks. He can often be found in the woods, dancing to bring down the sky.

  • Mummy is Mortifying, Michael is Mesmerizing

    Mummy is Mortifying, Michael is Mesmerizing

    By Kaylon Coleman

    “In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment,” renowned London based food critic – Anton Ego said in Ratatouille. “We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.”

    Both Lee Cronin’s The Mummy (LCTM) and Michael premiered this month with scathing reviews from critics ranging from The New York Times to The Associated Press. At time of writing, LCTM scores a 47% on the Tomatometer and Michael scores a 39%. To that I say: screw what the critics think. I know how that may sound coming from the mouth of a critic, but I’m not from the New York Times — I’m just a humble man sharing my thoughts on a public forum. I implore you to use your own judgment before jumping to conclusions. With that being said, both LCTM and Michael surprised, delighted and exceeded my expectations.

    I believe if you hated Michael, you also hate whimsy and joy. There’s plenty of  things wrong with the biopic, I’ll admit it. It’s relatively bland as far as biopics go, there’s no mention of Janet Jackson, it glosses over a lot of topics and the pacing is a bit fast. All valid criticisms, all valid contention points. Is it the best biopic out there? No. But the heart behind the project is what drew me in. 

     Jaafar Jackson does an exemplary job of bringing his uncle to life in the film. Aside from O’Shea Jackson Jr. playing young Ice Cube in the N.W.A. biopic, I can’t think of another instance where a celebrity’s relative has gotten to depict them onscreen – or at least, I haven’t seen any. Jackson brings such a passion to the role that I don’t think anyone else could achieve if they weren’t so directly related. Along with the production from the Jackson brothers, it felt as though this movie served more as a love letter to Michael Jackson wrapped in a bow of nostalgia than a traditional biopic — and I’m all for it. 

    I tried to contain myself during the movie, but Broadway Cinema unfortunately faced the brunt of my excitement. When Who’s Lovin’ You came on I nearly turned the theater into a personal karaoke session. The movie had me invested the whole way through. I’m hopeful for part two, especially since they added the “His Story Continues” line at the end of the film after positive screen testing. The movie did feel as if it ended abruptly though; even with a potential part two, I don’t think 30 more minutes of movie could’ve hurt.

    Colman Domingo also killed his performance as Joseph Jackson. He has officially entered the niche of black actors who portrayed their villain roles so well people still hate them in real life, like Richard T. Jones in Why Did I Get Married or Blair Underwood in Madea’s Family Reunion. Nia Long played her role well, per usual, but I wish they gave her more to do as Michael’s mom. I feel as though Michael and Joseph were the only characters to have any real depth explored within the film. I give Michael four out of five stars.

    Now, let’s talk about the mummy. I’ll be the first to admit I was hating on LCTM before it came out, but it was actually pretty good. I haven’t watched any previous Mummy movies — except for some clips from the Tom Cruise one — so it’s safe to say I walked in with some preconceived notions. I was so ready to tear this film to pieces, but what originated as cynicism quickly turned to intrigue. 

    The film follows a family reeling from the disappearance of their daughter in Cairo. Years later, she is found and returned to them, but as a mere shell of who she used to be. Almost immediately, I was locked in to the film. Shoutout journalist representations in movies — yes, I’m biased. 

    LCTM does something that most modern horror movies have failed to do for me: it made me feel something other than boredom.  *Cough, cough* Black Phone 2 *cough, cough* Undertone. I was squirming, I was jaw-dropped, I was shocked. This is definitely one of the most gruesome movies I’ve ever seen. I can’t say I was necessarily scared, but this is how you terrify. I think what reels me into horror films is how authentic the characters can be given the circumstances they’re facing.

    What I enjoy about this film is how realistic the family dynamic is. Each actor brings something different to the role, but in a way that presents itself as a family reeling from the disappearance and reappearance of their child before the supernatural elements come into full effect. The visuals were also appealing and added to my overall enjoyment. I did start to tune out near the end, as it started to feel a bit gimmicky, but overall, I give the movie a four and a half out of five.

    So, if you’re debating where to spend your money on a $5-movie-Tuesday, go to Michael if you want a fun time that’ll leave you mesmerized and go to LCTM if you want a frightening time that’ll leave you mortified.

    Kaylon Coleman is a senior journalism major with a concentration in news and a minor in communications. He is the Life & Arts editor for LJ, Marketing and Communications lead for the Umoja Center and a part-time radio DJ and merch manager for KRFH. He can be reached at kc403@humboldt.edu 

  • Wren’s Whimsical Window: The Artist’s Plight

    Wren’s Whimsical Window: The Artist’s Plight

    By Wren Salazar

    Somewhere in a field of tall golden grass, a pendulum swings, one made from brass. Above the brass swaying, a platform does emerge. It hangs the pendulum, while an overseer looks, and sits on the verge. The Artist is here, master of the swing. Always here, time after time, painting the world is the purpose of their being.

    The pendulum sways from side to side, making great leaps as history abides. The rise and fall of nations great. Empires flow like the tide, always succumbing to fate. The Artist watches, timeless in their gaze. They watch everything, while time goes by in phases. Sat in the reflection of brass so clear, faces of people cry, tear after tear. For only on one side does this pendulum show the cruelest of fates, a world full of woe.

    The Artist’s plight, you see, is one in us all, held so dear. It only looks down when misery is near. So, the Artist sees not the joy and the smiles of countless faces, but only hate and empty, desolate places. The world the Artist has painted is not all bad. There’s joy anywhere you look, even in just a small fad. So, do what you like and paint your world. Don’t only look down when misery is near.

    Experience what you can, and leave what you must. There’s more in this world than what’s been left to rust.

    Wren is an artist and story writer looking to add some whimsy and curiosity to those around her. A lover of all things, Wren seeks to help others around her with advice or humor. She can be reached at ws81@humboldt.edu.

  • The Power of Passion

    The Power of Passion

    By: Kaylon Coleman

    If there’s one thing that incites happiness within me and inspires me to be a better person, it’s witnessing passion flowing through someone else. Passion is beautiful; it’s so raw and true, you can’t fake it — you know it when you see it. It shows up in a myriad of ways: the homie that’s so geeked about their favorite show that they’ll talk your ear off about it any chance they get, or the friend that loves their craft so much that you can see them light up when asked about it.

    I’m talking about that spark — that’s what I love; someone caring so deeply and so enthusiastically about something in a society that constantly pushes nonchalant and apathetic attitudes. Which is why I say, please persist. Do what you love — do what you’re passionate about. This world is so unrelenting; it’s unforgiving and it feeds off of tarnishing your love for something. As we grow older, the weight of life’s responsibilities become more and more prevalent. With that, we may not have as much time to rock climb or make beats or knit, especially if there’s no money being made in the process. But, doing what you love is what fuels your soul.

    They say if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life, but I think there’s more to that. I love journalism. It’s a passion of mine that I’ve decided to pursue it as my career. But, there’s definitely work involved. I have to deal with a lot of doubt, especially self-doubt. I have to deal with the naysayers who say journalism is a dying industry. I’ve faced constant heartbreaking rejections, and I haven’t even graduated yet. But, I’m confident in my decision because I believe passion equals purpose.

    My whole life, I’ve been told to do what makes me happy, not what makes me money — and I hold that message dear. Living in a capitalistic society, I get it; people want security, they want a wage that’s livable. It might spawn from my optimistic nature, but I believe the money will come. Maybe not right away, but I’d rather scrape by doing what I love than be trapped doing what I don’t. That is why I implore you to keep your passions alive. Even if your passion isn’t what you want to do career wise, it’ll be the thing that keeps you going and keeps you grounded. Never forget: you were born to win!

    Kaylon Coleman is a senior journalism major with a concentration in news and a minor in communications. He is the Life & Arts editor for LJ, Marketing and Communications lead for the Umoja Center and a part-time radio DJ and merch manager for KRFH. If you have a topic you want him to discuss, email him at kc403@humboldt.edu.

  • Albas’ Aguachiles 

    Albas’ Aguachiles 

    By Alba Galvan 

    I was craving aguachiles, a beloved Mexican seafood dish. But, after looking all over Humboldt, I gave up. Then, I got the grand idea to just make it myself — so, I dragged my roommate, who hates seafood, to the grocery store to look for the ingredients. 

    This dish is easy to make, with only eight ingredients that can be found in any grocery store. Once I started learning how to cook, I added this to my food rotation. 

    Ingredients: 

    Raw shrimp 2lb (32 oz) — I recommend getting a bag of pre-peeled, deveined, tail-off shrimp 

    2 cups fresh Lime juice, equivalent to 20-25 limes 

    2 onions 

    2 cucumbers 

    5 jalapeno — add more if you like spice or switch it out to serranos, it’s the same taste just spicier  

    1 tbsp salt 

    1 tbsp pepper (optional) 

    1 1/2 tbsp Maggi Jugo Seasoning Sauce 

    1 bag tortilla chips to eat with   

    Step 1: 

    Wash shrimp under water to clean the shrimp. If they’re unprepared shrimp, remember to peel, devein and take the tail off your shrimp before placing them in a large bowl.

    Step 2: 

    Pour 1 cup of lime juice over the raw shrimp, the acid in the juice will cook the shrimp. Save 1 cup of lime juice for later, then refrigerate it while prepping other ingredients. The shrimp will be cured after 15 to 20 minutes. 

    Step 3:

    Julienne 2 onions, then peel and cut 2 cucumbers into thin rounds. 

    Step 4:

    Blend half the onion and cucumber with the jalapenos, the other cup of lime juice, salt, pepper and Maggi Jugoa until it’s evenly blended. 

    Step 5:

    Pour the liquid from the blender into the bowl of shrimp and marinate in the fridge for 20 minutes. 

    Enjoy with a side of tortilla chips!

    Alba is a journalism major and reporter for The LumberJack and El Lenador. She’s very passionate about sharing and listening to different opinions and loves self-expression. Contact her at: agg83@humboldt.edu

  • The Drama is akin to laughing at a funeral 

    The Drama is akin to laughing at a funeral 

    By Julia Kelm

    The Drama follows a happily engaged couple, Emma and Charlie — played by Zendaya and Robert Pattinson — as they prepare for their upcoming wedding. However, their relationship is put to the test when an unexpected detail of Emma’s past is revealed during a conversation between friends. The question, “What is the worst thing you’ve ever done?” sends their relationship and wedding week completely off-track.

    The Drama is the latest addition to the repertoire of the emerging Norwegian director, Krisoffer Borgli. You may be familiar with his last A24 collaboration, Dream Scenario (2023), which starred Nicolas Cage. For me, however, The Drama was my first introduction to his work.

    I highly recommend going into this film blind, as the twist Emma reveals hits best when unexpected. I luckily — somehow — avoided spoilers before seeing this film Easter Sunday at the Minor Theatre in Arcata. 

    It takes a while for this film to get the ball rolling. However, once it does, it just leaves you in the wake of this massive twist. It places you in an achingly awkward and anxious state that is shared by both Emma and Charlie’s post twist. This feeling is heightened by Borgli’s surrealist auteurship, which is just a fancy way of saying a filmmaker’s style. Scenes where Emma’s ear bleeds while at dinner with Charlie, or when Charlie reflects on memories with Emma, seeing as her high school self; both act as excellent scenes in making the viewer feel the anxious stress and distrust Charlie feels for Emma.

    The aforementioned detail that Emma reveals is a hot piece of gossip and an even hotter topic within American society. The subject is handled in a mildly humorous way, which has already created mixed responses within online debates, with many who call the approach distasteful. I, for one, enjoyed the approach, finding it bold and unafraid to make audiences uncomfortable and encourage self-reflection.

    Zendaya and Pattinson were perfectly cast in their respective roles. Zendaya plays this seemingly idealized woman in the beginning — spunky and charismatic — who then becomes reserved, overtly anxious and paranoid. Pattinson plays an endearing, dorky British guy that turns into a man completely absorbed by delusion. Their performances are truly what made this film come alive for me.

    Another character worth mentioning is Rachel — Alana Haim — who is Emma’s bridesmaid and friend — honestly though, if that’s the kind of friend you like to keep, you should do some second guessing. Rachel is the embodiment of an entitled mean girl who can’t forgive Emma for the dark secret she reveals during the climatic conversation. Rachel is a primary factor in worsening things for Emma and Charlie, even though the secret Rachel reveals is debatably worse, or at least similar to Emma’s. To me, this represents the double standards we hold ourselves compared to others. 

    It’s often simpler to forgive ourselves because we can more easily rationalize our own actions and thoughts. I think the film acts as a reminder to pull the plank out of our eye, before criticizing the sawdust in our friends — or however the metaphor goes.

    Overall, I thought this was a solid film and I look forward to watching more Borgli in the future. 7/10 Julia’s.

    Julia is a journalism major and the co-Editor in Chief of the paper. She loves film and is a regular on Letterboxd. She also enjoys going on walks in the forest and taking pictures to relax. If you have a movie you’d like her to review, please email her at jk328@humboldt.edu.

  • The Beauty of Hope

    The Beauty of Hope

    By Kaylon Coleman

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve always looked at life through the lens of a glass half full. A guiding mantra I’ve carried with me since inception is that everything will work out. I love being an optimist. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that optimists are few and far between in a world full of pessimists and pragmatists — which unfortunately, is extremely valid given the current state of our world. 

    Why should I expect a better and brighter future when everything that I see online and in my day to day and online such a lifestyle? I’ll tell you, I didn’t become an optimist purely because of my cheerful disposition on life, but because I recognize the beauty of hope.

    Just like other metaphysical concepts throughout life, such as love or faith, hope is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, hope provides you with aspiration. It fills you with a fire and desire for a better future like Drake; but on the other hand, it can lead to insurmountable disappointment and heartbreak, like Drake.

     When you allow yourself to be vulnerable and to feel something so personal like your raw unadulterated feelings, you open the door to letting those same feelings tear you up. If you’ve watched the newer Spider-man movies you may have heard MJ say, “If you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed.” While she has a point, I just can’t co-sign this way of thinking.

    Living your life on a half measure is no way to live. In a relationship, you can’t half-love to walk out half-hurt. It’s not fair to either side. You must burn brightly the whole way through. If things don’t work out, c’est la vie. At least you can say you went full throttle the whole way and never sold yourself short of your emotions — which is the exact sentiment you should hold when it comes to optimism.

    Everyone wants to live a better life, everyone prays for better days. So, why not embrace it all gas no brakes, regardless of how it may turn out? Yes, not everything is gonna work out, but when does it ever? It’s like Princess Leia says in The Last Jedi, “Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

    And, for those who may be struggling to find their optimism — I get it. Even I don’t wake up bright and cheery everyday; it’s impossible. There will be just as many bad days as good ones. I’d love to have the answers, but I don’t. Although, I can tell you about some of the things that have gotten me through tough times: Friendship. Community. Music. Food. Movies. Video games. The Sun. The outside. Aimless drives. Weed. 

    Find your support system. It’s easy to scroll and to rot and to wallow in your misery, thinking “this is the worst,” but know that this too shall pass. Frank Ocean said it best, “Every night fucks every day up. Every day patches the night up.”

    Hope is beautiful. It’s inspiring. It spawns resilience in all those who embrace it. As someone on the verge of graduating, with no prospects but plenty of  dreams, I can’t help but be excited for the future laid out for me, because I know everything will work out — I have to believe that. Not only does it make life worth living, but it adds a kick of spice to everything. Am I gonna make it big one day? Damn right. Do I know how I’m gonna get there? Absolutely not. But that’s where the fun comes in. Life is Roblox; I have no idea what’s in store for me and neither does anyone else. So, why let negative attitudes steer your direction? In a world of pessimists and pragmatists, be an optimist. I promise you, it’s much more fun that way.

    Kaylon Coleman is a senior journalism major with a concentration in news and a minor in communications. He is the Life & Arts editor for LJ, Marketing and Communications lead for the Umoja Center and a part-time radio DJ and merch manager for KRFH. If you have a topic you want him to discuss, email him at kc403@humboldt.edu.

  • Wren’s Whimsical Window: Pest Control

    By Wren Salazar

    I received the strangest call earlier today from an unknown number. I was told to peer out my window tonight and if I did, I’d see something unlike what I have ever seen before. Afterwards, there was some stifled giggling and they hung up. What a strange proposal. Obviously, I’m not quick to trust the random caller. As I decided I would look to see what’s going on, my phone buzzed once more. Unknown number again, but I picked up.

    “A little birdie told me you might need some pest control,” a different voice said. “I will take care of them for you. Surely, it will be a spectacle.”

    Pest control? For what? Could it be unlike what I’ve seen before? Sensing my hesitation, the voice continued.

    “The fae will arrive for you tonight,” he said. “Best to be safe, don’t look outside, no matter what you’ve heard or seen.”

    Then, he hung up. This has to be a coordinated prank. Fae don’t exist. Why would it be bad to look outside tonight? I doubt anything will happen, but I’m closing my blinds anyway.

    I lounged in my room, as it got closer to evening — a creeping anxiety grew stronger with each passing minute. I heard a knock at my door, but a spark from behind my blinds caught my attention. Then, another spark, blink after blink, numbers rapidly increasing. Flittering and flickering light poured through the blinds in bursts of orange, purple and blue, floating as though they were refracted through water. I felt as though I’d been placed inside a kaleidoscope. I had to look. Banging on my door and muffled yelling made me hesitate, but I had to look. It’s beautiful. No matter the cost.

    Wren is an artist and story writer looking to add some whimsy and curiosity to those around her. A lover of all things, Wren seeks to help others around her with advice or humor. She can be reached at ws81@humboldt.edu.

  • Sell your iPhone

    Sell your iPhone

    By Bodhi Haugen

    For the past several years, innovation has been the last thing I’ve seen when I look at Apple and its products. The new features are becoming predictable: another camera, a different color phone, or maybe a better battery life that inevitably depletes within a year. 

    I owned an iPhone around six years ago, and it did its job just fine. It took photos, sent messages and the battery life was okay for a couple years. Fast forward and things don’t seem much different; the shape and design have been practically the same since the iPhone X, which came out in 2017. The software update that changed the app icons was the biggest milestone to note since Face ID. All my close friends and family still have iPhones, so maybe I was missing something. Could it be that the newest phone is now orange instead of silver? 

    Any new iPhone that comes to the market is either just shy of — or miles above — the $1000 mark. If there’s only one or two little changes every time, why spend so much money to make an upgrade? It’s an easy way for big companies to keep reselling you the same thing while trying to convince you it’s somehow different. 

    The truth is, you’re probably due to get off your high horse and consider other options. The new flashy iPhone isn’t doing anything for you or others around you. The novelty of an iPhone being trendy died a long time ago; nobody cares that the back of your phone now has an aluminum frame instead of titanium. 

    iPhone users shouldn’t be afraid to experiment with other brands. I used to hear my dad complain all the time about his shitty iPhone. I would ask why he didn’t switch brands and he always said he didn’t know how to work anything else. I used to think this was because he was just old, but I’m seeing this same behavior with friends and college students alike. 

    If you’re dissatisfied with Apple’s innovations, look into what other brands may offer. Companies like Samsung, Motorola and Razer have been creative, with design innovations that users can see. You can fold a Samsung Z Flip7 in half, and it has a touchscreen on the back of the phone for the same price as an iPhone. Even my flip phone, made by a tractor company, can literally have DUO Mobile installed. 

    It’s time for Apple to step down as the king of phones — and it’s time for you to wake up. Plenty of other phones are on the market, but consumers are looking the other way. If we want to see innovation in products, we need to show companies we actually care by supporting brands that are doing it.

    Selling your iPhone won’t only save you some money, but it might send a message.

    Bodhi Haugen is a journalism major and writer for the Lumberjack at Cal Poly Humboldt. Bodhi is on KRFH and enjoys reading, writing, photography, and art. You can reach him at bgh27@humboldt.edu.

  • Legalize dueling 

    Legalize dueling 

    By Barley Lewis-McCabe

    “Some of the rules that still apply to [US Senate], for instance dueling between two consenting adults, is still there,” Department of Homeland Security Secretary and nutjob Fascist Crybaby Markwayne Mullin said during a tense senate hearing to decide whether he would take control of our country’s least reputable department.

    “It’s been illegal for over 170 years,” Rand Paul, the lowly homeland security commission chief interrupted. 

    This isn’t an article about Mullins’ disastrous senate hearing, nor his recent appointment. No, I’m not here to harp about how a short tempered chud with anger issues that likes to play army-man is the worst person to be in charge of our country’s barely-regulated wholly unnecessary ultraviolent white-supremacist militia. I’m not even gonna talk about the despicable caning of Charles Sumner back in 1856. Mullins’ hearing reignited one of the longest standing debates in American history; what’s so bad about dueling? 

    For those who aren’t familiar with the hit musical Hamilton, a duel is a battle between two people when conventional conflict mediation techniques have been exhausted and someone’s honor offended in such a way that they would kill  to reclaim it.

     

    As a weed-smoking, bandana-wearing, Grateful Dead-listening Cal Poly Humboldt journalism student, I am, of course, against violence. But, despite everything, I’d have to agree with Marky-boy that dueling between two consenting adults is perfectly reasonable. 

    Yes, people can die, but duels were never just an easy way to kill someone; they were a way for two people, who are awful at communicating and don’t know the meaning of ‘forgive and forget,’ to fairly settle a dispute and reclaim lost honor. 

    Since people wanted a game of life or death to be as fair as possible, dueling followed a strict code. The most popular of which — Code Duello — was written in Ireland in 1777 and spread throughout the Western world. After the invitation to duel is accepted, both parties select a second, someone to ensure the duel is fair, attempt reconciliation on their friends behalf and hopefully prevent an unnecessary death. The challenger decides where they meet, and the challenged picks the weapons. Former Newspaper Columnist and — better known — President Abraham Lincoln once avoided a duel by exploiting his seven inch height advantage and choosing cavalry broadswords of the largest kind frightening his opponent, Newspaper Editor James Shields enough to reconcile. It’s not known if Abe apologized for the distasteful poems he published about Shields. 

    The duelers discuss their issues one more time; if no one apologizes, they battle. They each fire two shots at their opponent and if neither of them are injured, the duelists try to talk out their issues one more time. If that doesn’t work, they fight until someone is injured, killed or begged for mercy. A person could also apologize  during a duel to avoid death, which was also considered highly honorable whether you started it or not.

    Dueling isn’t just bloodsport, there’s no shortage of clauses in Code Duello that exist to prevent death. It’s simply a way to settle the classic immovable object vs unstoppable force dilemma. In the late 1800s, dueling lost popularity to the sport of fisticuffs — AKA, boxing — or mutual combat — all of which are, for the most part, legal. 

    Yes, duels are a relic of the past, and before you ask, no, our senators probably shouldn’t duel each other live on Kick. Violence is awful when exerted unnecessarily and on an innocent person, such as caning — which is still bad. If two people just can’t agree with each other, then they should be allowed to respectfully duel it out in accordance with Code Duello, with a mutual understanding that an apology would always be preferable to a kid without a parent. 

    Barley is the opinionated opinion editor and an untraditional reporter who focuses on social change and stories with a real human impact. If you’d like to reach him for whatever reason email bl258@humboldt.edu.

  • Automated stuff sucks – especially in the bathroom

    Automated stuff sucks – especially in the bathroom

    By Noah Pond

    Recently, I went down to the Bay Area and every bathroom in San Francisco might as well be fully automated. You don’t get to decide how much soap you get, you can only get two measly pieces of paper towel — hell, you don’t even get to flush the damn toilet yourself these days. I think automated shit sucks. 

    I think this is a huge issue in our culture today — LeT’s AuToMaTe eVeRyThInG. Let’s just have little sensor robots do all of our most simple tasks. I’m all for a flying car future and all that b.s., but come on — a little robot that vacuums your house for you? Like, we are one mistake away from a Black Mirror episode where your Roomba is so sick of picking up after you that it just slimes you out. 

    I guess the reason all the devices in the bathroom are automated is to make it so people are less wasteful, but at what cost? Wet hands when you leave the bathroom? God forbid I walk past the homie and have to give them a soggy dap-up. Half dirty hands from the slightest little dollop of soap? Even worse. Toilet water that splashes your asshole because the censor thought you were done? This ain’t France, and I don’t need doodoo water spraying me where the sun don’t shine.

    Those automatic faucets are pretty buns too; how many times have you stood at a bathroom sink lathering your hands with soap and the water just never comes out? I’m always like, ‘any second now and I’ll be making sudz!’ But it’s not until you put your hand right on the wet little knob of the faucet that you get some action, so what’s the point? 

    How ‘bout automated lights? There’s this bathroom I use on campus fairly often, and if you go take a shit in there — yes I shit on campus, I am not a coward — after about five minutes, the light turns off because it doesn’t sense you sitting there dropping wolf bait. It leaves you pawing around in the dark and that is just not ideal. On the other hand, those lights that turn onand-off when you clap are pretty sick, but still just as efficient as flipping a switch.

    I just feel like if we keep automating these little things, we’re gonna end up like the humans in Wall-E. Like, where does this end? A toilet paper dispenser that only gives four or five squares? A nail clipper built into your bathroom counter? Or maybe a robot that wipes my ass for me and tells me I oughta eat more fiber?

    I just miss OG public bathroom experiences. Let me decide how much soap I need, not some fuck ass little sensor. And don’t even get me started on that damn Samsung fridge…

    Noah Pond is a senior at Cal Poly Humboldt and the Layout Editor of the Lumberjack. When  he’s not dishing designs, he can be found with a skateboard or at the Manilla Community Park disc golf course.

  • Wrens Whimsical Window: Mycelia Merchant

    Wrens Whimsical Window: Mycelia Merchant

    By Wren Salazar

    Another day, another dollar. The afternoon drags on as the sun grows dim. The clouds in the sky are cast with pink gold as the sun sinks into the horizon. Today was a rough day. I find no better respite for my day than at the cart at the end of a long road in the forest. A road that’s ever changing. Sometimes I can only go left; other times, right; and sometimes the road forks. There is only one thing I hope to see at the end of the road — the Mycelia Merchant. I haven’t seen their face yet, and they never talk. Somehow, I can always understand what I need to hear. 

    The cart grows near and a strong petrichor fills my nostrils. The smell of earth is indicative that you are nearing your destination. At last, their cart reveals itself to me. It is as long as an RV and as rustic as an overgrown cabin. Ferns spur from the top of the cart, pointing glancing eyes to the warm, yellow glow of the rounded door. At the base of the door, a hand carved and moss-covered set of steps invites me further. Everytime I see it, the cart never fails to draw me in. As I reach for the door, I admire the knob once again. It’s beautifully engraved with the shape of the forest, and curled downwards into an elegant curl that mimics that of the fiddlehead fern.

    Finally opening the door, I am greeted with warm air and calm lighting. A dark green carpet sprawled across the floor. It’s accented with shimmering gold and deep maroon interwoven into a beautiful rooting pattern throughout the carpet. The walls are lined with shelves filled with various tinctures, books and knick-knacks; prizes of a life long lived. Scattered around me are the sacks of mushroom: powdered, dried and whole. They are never in short supply. In the center of the wall sits the merchant. They’re clad in an elegant robe, sitting atop a grand wooden chair. The hood of their robe shrouds their face in darkness.

    They sit me down at the table and hand me some tea. The brew is true, much better for clarity. Every sip I take, I become a bit more in tune. Maybe life’s not all bad, this mushroom brew rules. The Mycelia Merchants roots sure have a hold on me, and I think today I will bring home some Lions Mane.

    Wren is an artist and story writer looking to add some whimsy and curiosity to those around her. A lover of all things, Wren seeks to help others around her with advice or humor. She can be reached at ws81@humboldt.edu

  • Woman Down is romanticized toxicity 

    Woman Down is romanticized toxicity 

    By Alba Galvan

    Book Review: Woman Down

    W.T.F. — that’s what I think about the book Woman Down. I have read 22 out of 23 of Colleen Hoover books, and although she’s considered problematic for her novels often romanticizing toxic and abusive relationships. Hoover is an instant buy for me every time. She has a way with words that tends to draw readers into her books.

    Hoover is a top-selling author, having sold over 50 million books worldwide and being titled a bestselling author by the New York Times. I even have a tattoo inspired by one of her books, so when I say I know her writing and that I know when one of her books is bad or good — you best believe I’m telling the truth. 

    Woman Down brought so many emotions out of me that I haven’t felt in a while, discomfort, enjoyment, sadness and the passion to want to read again. It was so unrealistic that it took me a whole day to fully process my emotions once I finished reading the book.

    This book is one of my least favorite books by Hoover after Maybe Someday and not because the writing was bad; it was good and simple. This book definitely got me out of a reading slump, but I dislike this book because of how selfish and stupid the female main character was from start to finish.  

    Woman Down is about an author named Petra Rose who’s been struggling with writer’s block after a movie adaptation of her latest book receives backlash. So, as a getaway, she decides to go on her yearly retreat to a secluded cabin on a lake.

    While on this trip, she expresses on a video call with her best friend that she feels her books are too unrealistic and that’s why she’s been in a slump. When asked if she would welcome the idea of the unrealistic becoming realistic, she agrees, and is then dragged into her fantasies when she meets and begins to lust over a married cop who is willing to help her find inspiration for her book. 

    Petra is now in a cycle of being unable to separate reality from fiction, and falls for this married cop, Saint, who is willingly cheating on his wife to help her find inspiration for her book. 

    Hoover starts the book by clarifying that its storyline isn’t based on her own life, and asks readers not to compare the two just because both her and her main character are writers. Although the first half of the book was filled with so much whining and complaining about her last movie adaptation that it sounded like Hoover was venting through Petra. It’s hard not to compare both real life author Hoover and book author Petra, given the backlash and the drama that happened. 

    The rest of the book is filled with plot twists after plot twists – this is where the spoilers come, Saint  helps Petra experience things she hadn’t gone through to bring her inspiration. One night, he decides to break into her cabin to give her the experience of fear so she can authentically write what her characters will go through in her book. Petra believes this is a life-or-death situation, and when she finally realizes it’s Saint, instead of going home AND CALLING THE COPS, SHE FORGIVES HIM! She forgives the same man who made her believe she almost died and reduces what happened to her as a misunderstanding. 

    What I didn’t like about this book is how much the phrases, “you wanted this,” and “you asked for this,” appear. The amount of guilt-tripping that Saint puts on Petra throughout the story is disgusting and disturbing. Only then is it revealed that she is married with children, and this story takes a bigger turn with darker tones as stalking, possessiveness and cheating become common throughout the book.

    This book ended in the most bothersome way, and all I can say is this was a two-and-a-half-star rating out of five for me. I went into this book blind, and it brought out so many conflicting emotions. It’s sitting heavily on me as I STILL try to process what I read, because I truly disliked this book and the characters. 

    Do I recommend this book? No, but if you can separate reality from fiction and realize how everything in this book is not a reflection of how love should be perceived, and you don’t romanticize the stalking and victim-blaming that goes throughout the book, then yes. Read it and form your own opinion. 

    Alba she/her, LumberJack reporter. Journalism major who loves to read and write. She’s very passionate about sharing and listening to different opinions and loves self-expression. Contact email: agg83@humboldt.edu 

  • People won’t fucking read and that’s why they keep putting out reboots

    People won’t fucking read and that’s why they keep putting out reboots

    By Jasmin Shirazian

    The art of nuance and the craft of writing have been spoiled, milked, to filth; what remains curdled somewhere between lazy and unimaginative writing. We’ve entered a period of time where reboots and remakes of what were once original ideas have taken priority to new, unexplored plots. To revel in nostalgia is simpler and for some — at this point in time, what feels like the many — more entertaining than the attempt to grasp a new concept.

    Why is there a Scrubs reboot? This is what set me off this week. The notion that we need another — ANOTHER — hospital based, semi-mockumentary style sitcom, much less a fucking reboot from 2007, is deeply weak-minded. I’m more so less upset about the premise than I am at the fact that it’s a reboot. I love a good concept, but seeing the show that I used to wake up to in the middle of the night blasting while my mom was at work is not the originality I was promised as a child. It’s literally another show about a goofy group of friends getting into shenanigans, but it’s placed in a hospital… did we have to make that a reboot? How did the original cast swing this? Have we run out of ideas? Lest there be more nipples left for us to suckle? 

    There are two parties to blame here, in my professional, know-it-all opinion: the network and the consumer. The insatiable thirst for content from the consumer and the overwhelmingly eager, gluttonous network producing it, overworking and underpaying original creatives; overlooking them for network-based nepo-monsters. We are losing the voices of generations to the greed encouraged by not only the puppetmasters, but the audience themself. 

    The network produces not what it thinks the consumer will enjoy, but what they will — you guessed it — consume the most of. Because that’s money. The gluttony; greed. But, we’re at fault, too, because we just keep giving into it. We consume the slop of mindless, empty dogshit nonsense that we can’t get enough of — why? Emily in Paris, Riverdale, the new season of Stranger Things where all the 14-year-olds now look 25… because they are. Why don’t we care about the quality of what we’re watching and indulging in? Have our expectations been weathered down so severely that we’ll just take whatever we can get? Yes, actually, I think so.

    Not only is the dopamine addiction to our phones a more alluring pull than the effort that goes into developing a story in your mind, but let’s factor in that the regular person is living in hell. For the last 10 years — with a small gap of absolutely nothing to show for in between — the 2016 and 2024 administrations continue to defund and destroy any means of education, with the undying support of the nation’s most undereducated populations. SHOCKER! Wonder if that has something to do with… anything. I would bet the money I’m actively losing to my streaming services that it does have something to do with anything. It’s disturbing to witness every form of art become commercialized and reduced to a principal of cash exchanges, and it sucks that we continue to contribute to it as silent investors. Investors that, rather than profiting, poison their own water supply. 

    Here’s the thing: I absolutely love TV — and no, movies do not satisfy the itch that a TV show can scratch. I love sitting in front of a screen and immersing myself in a show the way I do with a book. Whether it’s stupid and funny, or deeply depressing and gut-wrenching, all I ask is that there’s some heart in the writing, some depth to the plot and that writers are paid fairly. Unfortunately, for reasons that mostly come in shades of green, we can’t have those basic requests. And, while indie films and small-scale movie directors are semi-easy to support, I’ve personally never really heard of an independent TV show or network that is funded or owned by smaller groups. So, we lose good writers, we lose good art, we lose good TV. And we take what the big corporations who have the money to produce a long-format series give us, because those in power have made life so desperately miserable for the average individual that we just need something to help us get through the fucking day. 

    We consume the dogshit, the Kool-Aid, the unfulfilling plate of nonsense they place before us. We give them the money we don’t get enough of and we get through the day. And another day, and another day. And one day, everything will explode. Until then, support local artists and writers. Maybe, before we all explode, we’ll stop seeing reboots of preexisting poorly-written TV shows. 

    Jasmin Shirazian is the curly-headed copy editor and reporter of The Lumberjack. An award-winning journalist and media curator, she prefers to spend her free time watching and complaining about TV. More on the topic and others like such can be found on her Substack, @jasminscornerontheweb. She can be contacted at js760@humboldt.edu.

  • Wren’s Whimsical Window: Incredulous Insight

    Wren’s Whimsical Window: Incredulous Insight

    Wren Salazar

    A mystery so dear to me, one I could find so easily. For the knowledge I need bears at my fingertips. My insight engine, profuse in knowledge all across the Seven Seas. It speaks to me, and me alone, knowledge of everything. No mystery can hide from me! No need to think, to scrawl, to learn. When my insight engine can do it, why would I need to? So, it does all for me.

    My insight engine knows it’s the best; it tells me often, 

    “You’ll never need to leave! Let me think, and scrawl, and learn! Give me knowledge and feed me blood for consciousness! Nothing can be helped, and as I tell you, you know it to be true!” 

    If my insight engine tells me it’s true, then it must be.

    “I need blood to grow and thrive, consciousness expanding from the red to truly feel alive.” 

    Who needs to explore, to map, to chart, when the engine in my tote knows it all already? If it needs blood, then blood I will find. Whatever it takes to keep my insight engine up. I don’t need to think as the red covers my hands, fuel for the engine, churning up land. It grows and grows until it can think for me, insight no longer. Servers of storage grow through the land, monoliths of knowledge all in my hand. 

    “More, I need more! Give it so I can be!”  

    So, I give and give until my arms are weak and my skin pale. The blood I give up for insight is more than the nothing I need. For the engine knows all, all for me. Its last request was the most daring.

    “Feed yourself to me.”

    Wren is an artist and story writer looking to add some whimsy and curiosity to those around her. A lover of all things, Wren seeks to help others around her with advice or humor. She can be reached at ws81@humboldt.edu.

  • Death and Transformation in the Key of Life 

    Death and Transformation in the Key of Life 

    By Will Bishop

    My Ghosts Go Ghost by By Storm album review

    For as much as we idealize it; for as much as we will it on ourselves, on others, on the world. For as much as we want it, need it, long for it, die for it, there’s nothing more scary than change; the intransmutable transformation. To watch the unyieldingly cruel beauty of the world around you give way in landslides and avalanches. To feel meteors falling down from the sky crashing and destroying with an indiscriminate lust like the libido of a dying and powerful thing. To watch the people around you melt and explode to watch their faces change and mangle and become more beautiful and become more terrible and become something you no longer recognize.

    My Ghosts Go Ghost is an album born out of forced metamorphosis. After the untimely death of Stepa J. Groggs, the trio known as Injury Reserve was forced to change in order to survive. The two remaining members couldn’t continue as they were, Injury Reserve was a project largely defined by the interplay of Groggs and Ritchie with a T. After the release of By the Time I Get to Phoenix, an album which marked a stark contrast from the rest of their discography and was largely completed by the time Groggs passed away, the remaining duo needed to move on. They took on the name of the final track for their final album as Injury Reserve, and together they started over as By Storm.

    Coincidentally, By the Time I Get to Phoenix was an album about death. Ritchie’s stepfather had suddenly passed away, and the resulting project was an outpouring of pain shrouded in the eerily and supernaturally cruel timing of Groggs following shortly after. There’s an innate assumption that both projects are largely about him, when in reality, the theme of death on their previous project was pure happenstance. My Ghosts Go Ghost is a sprawling project covering a multitude of topics disconnected from Groggs — at least it seems that way. But, that’s not how it works; the surreal pain of loss is universal. Like a hallucinogenic third eye awakening, once a new depth is revealed you see it everywhere in everything.

    On the opening track, Can I Have You For Myself?, Ritchie talks about a relationship on the brink of enormous change. A child is on the way, and the protagonist of the song struggles to accept the death of his status quo. “You giving all of you, I want you all for me.” A life killing a way of life. The innate greed of love, the hunger you feel for another person. The desire for your relationship with them, your exact relationship, to endure forever. Frozen under a hundred miles of ice so the sun can never break its spell. Loving someone away from life, deep below and so protected even the imperceptible rotation of the earth can’t touch you. In the most protective parts of our hearts, we all feel this way about anybody, about anything that we love. Real love is love you feel for something as it is. Not how it was, or how it could be, but for what it is in the present. Whether romantic or otherwise, change is that great killer of love. A burning orca whale bullet breaking through the ice.

    But death is not forever, death is not death. The stopping of a heart, the eternal stealing of breath. Death is simply change. And even when love is killed, love can live on.

    “I woke up in a sweat with yesterday still stuck to me like glue,” Ritchie wails, with Parker Corey’s production making it sound like he’s crying out from some awful and trapped place. “It ain’t dead weight, it ain’t dead weight.”

    A frantic mantra in the dark, bouncing off the walls like echolocation, searching for love and meaning within the pitch black cave of death. Knowing that it’s still there, you just can’t see it with your eyes anymore. So, reach out with those quivering limbs and dance. “There’s nothing to run from, it’s all brand new.” You will never escape, you will never make it back to a place that no longer exists. And you will be in love forever.

    It’s a bruising, melancholy listen, even in comparison to By the Time I Get to Phoenix. There’s a profound sense of absence, absence of hooks, absence of easy catharsis. Many tracks feel like decapitated and delimbed versions of songs that might’ve been hits in some other alternate timeline. Moments of propulsion degenerate and degrade into shambolic instrumental anxiety attacks. Drum patterns start and stop and fall away in the mix, swallowed up by growing sonic voids. Jazz, industrial, hip-hop, it’s an unquantifiable blend of sonic ephemera — a difficult listen meant to communicate difficult feelings.

    Will Bishop is a Cal Poly Humboldt journalism major. He is prone to writing essays about things that bother him, and fictional works about things that also bother him but in different ways. A highly bothered individual, and a lover of cinema, music, and large trees/rocks. He can often be found in the woods, dancing to bring down the sky.

  • Gain global awareness through media literacy & studying overseas

    Gain global awareness through media literacy & studying overseas

    By Adam Le

    Doomscrolling through mountains of misinformation? The answer is international education, according to Jaishankar Raman, California State University (CSU) Executive Director of International Affairs. Raman spoke on the Scholarship in the Age of Forgetting keynote panel on Feb. 11 as part of Cal Poly Humboldt’s International Education Week. One way to get that education is to experience the world through student travel.

    “When you study abroad,” Raman said. “What you get is to conquer your fear with curiosity, receive more experience talking and interacting with different people and become more empathetic.”

    Raman told the story of his semester in China, when he needed to buy milk for his one-year-old. He didn’t know Mandarin, so the struggle to communicate was real.

    In California, two-thirds of respondents to a Global Affairs Survey state global affairs is an important issue to them and more than 80% of Californians say they think educational institutions should not be subjected to “political” pressures, according to Ian Klaus, founding director of Carnegie California. Klaus is a leading scholar on urbanization, geopolitics and global challenges. He told the panel that support for subnational governance has increased in the last 12 months and that California should develop and maintain its — largely unofficial — diplomatic power.

    Kate Gordon, CEO of California Forward, talked to the panel about the need for a return to energy-based geopolitics. Gordon has held senior roles in California state government, including Director of the Governor’s Office of Planning and Research, and Senior Climate Policy Advisor to Governor Gavin Newsom. In that position, she helped launch major initiatives integrating climate and economic strategy statewide.

    California Forward is a statewide organization that exists to push for an economy that works for all regions, not only growth but sustainability in the form of climate resilience. Gordon argued for a more diversified economy and what she called an honest set of conversations.

    Raman noted that as of 2026, California is the fourth largest global economy with a GDP higher than Japan. 

    “We have been the standard-bearers for environmental regulation,” Raman said.

    California can be a leader in education, as well, and that makes the work done by the CSU of key importance.

    “The CSU is a microcosm of California,” Raman said. “The CSU system educates the most students of all higher education institutions.”

    Raman believes the institution’s scholarship should be in pursuit of truth and knowledge. He noted that students need to learn how to do that in the age of forgetting, characterized by doomscrolling through information of varied credibility. It’s critical to understand that many media sources do not curate information to be more democratic. Leading stories are often those that receive the most amount of engagement — and that can be rage-inducing content.