Ministry of Cool

Florence + the Machine’s music is known for knockout vocals and powerful drumbeats that transcends to any audience. Their latest album Ceremonials, released on Nov. 1, 2011, although catchy, lacks cohesiveness and at times sounds like a overwhelming mess of ambiguous instruments, underneath Florence Welch’s overpowering howl.

It’s easy to note the generational differences between students of today and their parents; going to college is harder, the job market is less than desirable and the prevalence of technology is inescapable. But we also differ from our parents in other ways.

I am a slave to social media.

Nothing excites me more than tweeting clever musings or seeing a scandalous break-up pop up in my Facebook mini-feed. I read Perez Hilton more times a day than the New York Times and my obsession with cat blogs borders on neurotic.

As I went to start this article, I opened a Word Document, typed the topic I planned to write about and immediately went to my Twitter, all while I Facebook stalked classmates and spoke on the phone to my boyfriend. This multitasking is my normal routine while trying to get anything of importance done.

I can still remember the day I discovered what sex was. I was sitting on my living room floor, cradling my new Cabbage Patch Kid (remember those?), when suddenly I looked up at my mother and asked, “Mommy, where do babies come from?”

When I tell people that one of my favorite singers is Kelly Clarkson, I usually get one of three responses: a) “Oh … Why?” b) “Wait, the girl from American Idol?” or c) “My preteen sister loves her!”

The title alone should really give the discriminating listener an indication of the kind of warped, surreal sensibility one can expect from the director of Mulholland Drive in his first full-length album. Of course, David Lynch’s body of work is characterized by its evocative musical soundscapes, much of it provided by composer extraordinaire, Angelo Badalamenti, that work to heighten the pervasive mood of confusion and underlying darkness that Lynch is best known for. It makes sense that the American auteur would extend his interests to music, for much of Crazy Clown Time evokes the same visceral fragmentation of the (post)modern world that permeate his visual output.

The sexualization of female Halloween costumes

The art of non-verbal communication

Living in the bounds of racial parentheses