Wednesday, 20 February 2013

What exactly is the 'Harlem Shake'? One Woman's Battle for Knowledge...

Right Now: 'Best It's Gonna Get Vs. Tainted' - Celldweller

As you may have been noticing on your newsfeeds, there is a new dance craze circulating the internet called 'The Harlem Shake'. Now, I have seen quite a few videos of numerous groups of people attempting their own version and I have to admit, it's funny! However, I have been confronted with the fact that for the first time in my life, I do not know anything about the origins of this viral dance epidemic and therefore, I have decided today that instead of studying for my exam on Sunday (It's multiple choice, Bite Me!), I will instead uncover the mysteries surrounding this craze and hopefully educate those who, like me, are in a permanent stage of confusion around this thing that 'seems cool'.

Step One: To Wikipedia!

My journey to infinite knowledge begins with Wikipedia (obviously). Whenever society is faced with the unknown, the first thing we turn to is a our good, free friend, Wikipedia. If Wikipedia was a person, he'd be the guy who'd let you borrow some sugar, who'd help push your car in the snow, who would offer you the last biscuit on the plate. The 'Good Guy Greg' of the internet, if you will. 

I have typed 'Harlem Shake' into Wikipedia and I have been greeted by three different pages. I was not aware that the 'Harlem Shake' had so much depth, so much history. Already, I can feel this is going to take some time. The first page is dedicated to the dance, which seems to be like a good place to start. Apparently, the 'Harlem Shake' originated in 1981 in... You guessed it, Harlem! It was based on an Ethiopian dance called the 'Eskista'. The 'self purported  creator of this dance, 'Al B' (which is a very lazy nickname) seems to be a bit too lively on the party scene, as he is quoted saying that the dance 'comes from the ancient Egyptians' and describes it as 'what the mummies used to do'.  Now, I'm not an expert on Ancient Egyptian history but I find it hard to believe that long-dead, saturated corpses could spontaneously 'get their groove on' and I don't think any evidence of this has been painted in hieroglyphics (unless that was the curse that killed Howard Carter and Lord Carnavan)...

Anyway, this 'Al B' nonsense is annoying me and I'm no closer to finding out what the virality of the 'Harlem Shake' is all about. I have fallen for the student trap that is Wikipedia once again. It's like my kryptonite. Therefore, it's time to try a different method of gathering information. 

Step Two: Yahoo! Answers

I love Yahoo! Answers. I'm not sure if that means I'm a sad human being or not but I find it useful (and amusing too). Sometimes. My question was simple: 'What is the Harlem Shake?' Here are some of the answers I received.


Helpful? I think not. Also, I find the top contributor's post the most terrifying. She's like fifty? What would her children say?  I'm horrified but I'm also digressing. So, according to the good (and rather strange) denizens of Yahoo! Answers, it's basically just a silly little dance where people go crazy (and get naked). Hmm, okay but how did it get so popular all of a sudden? (I think I'm onto a bigger philosophical discovery than Aristotle)

Step Three: YouTube

Perhaps it would have been wise to begin with YouTube but I'm a gatherer of knowledge, a hunter of wisdom. I want all the facts before I commit to something (even if the facts are from either a website that anyone can edit or a community where satirical answers reign supreme). Through sleuthing, I discovered that the original video was from an account called TheSunnyCoastState. Here it is in all its glory.


And now, I finally get it. 'Harlem Shake' is just another craze and a hilarious one at that. It involves one person in a room full of people dancing to the song. When the bass drops, everyone joins in. And that's the 'Harlem Shake'. The best part is that there doesn't need to be a point in it, everyone needs a little bit of crazy in their lives. It's popularity is marked by the fact that everyone can get involved, no matter where you come from. Gangnam Style was last year's fad but is this year's ultimate craze the 'Harlem Shake'? Only time will tell.

Tomorrow, HEC Montreal are holding their own official homage to the 'Harlem Shake' in the cafeteria. I feel the only way for me to truly become one with the 'Harlem Shake' is to experience it for myself. Watch this space.

Saturday, 2 February 2013

This is a long blog but it's important...


Firstly, I just wish to point out that I am a straight lady and I'm not the oppressed one. But I am a very opinionated person and I wish to make a statement about my feelings on Gay Marriage. I would suggest grabbing popcorn, it's gonna be a long one.

Almost fifty years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered possibly the most iconic speech of the 20th Century. You may not know all of its content but you will certainly have heard the phrase, ‘I Have a Dream’. The ‘I Have a Dream’ speech was about ending the prejudice and suffering that had plagued African-Americans since the abolition of slavery. And it set in motion a great change, a positive change. Whilst, sadly, racism is still around us from a small-minded minority, the thought of black people not having equal rights in today’s world is unthinkable. No-one could get away with it. It is almost horrendous to think that just a short time ago, black people were treated as second-class citizens. However, whilst it is a shameful chapter in our history, thankfully, it’s mostly in the past.

Sadly though, I find myself asking the question: why haven’t we learned from the mistakes of our predecessors? Why must some community of our society always be made to feel second-class or unequal? And will we ever get to a stage in our history where everyone can live equally?
I wish I knew the answer to that question but the fact is: There is no answer. No-one should be made to feel unequal. And yet, we continue to let it happen.

Gay people have been around since approximately the dawn of time. First of all, I’m going to put some metaphorical science goggles on and get slightly biological. Men have, over the course of a million years, developed a prostate gland, which when stimulated can provide pleasure. However, the site of this gland is only reachable through ‘ahem’, the back passage. Now, we don’t need to have a PHD in medicine to know that women do not possess the right apparatus to reach this area and whilst I can’t be totally positive, I don’t think men back then were double jointed or flexible enough to reach it (The Cavemen Olympic Gymnastics Team didn’t have much success, I hear).

Without going into too much explicit detail, ‘cough’ ‘cavemen probably had sex’ ‘cough’. Whilst I’m not pointing out that men are biologically gay, I am saying that men engaged in sexual activities with other men during the process of evolution and as such, men have developed to reflect that. However, I won’t ponder too much on this, I’d have to try and persuade people who don’t believe in evolution and that, my friends, is a whole other can of worms.

In Ancient Rome, there were, surprise, surprise, Gay people. When the ruins of Pompeii were uncovered thousands of years after it had been covered in volcanic ash, mosaics and wall carvings were found depicting same-sex lovers. Art dated back to Ancient Greece depicts women sharing intimacy with each other. William Shakespeare was rumoured to have been bi-sexual, with his sonnet, number 126, said to have been written about his male lover. 

I could go on but the reason I point all of this out is that when people have the opinion that there are more homosexual people now than there were in the past (and view it as a negative thing) they are wrong. Whilst, yes, there are more openly gay people now, it is because it is deemed more acceptable. Back then, there were probably many people who were gay but out of fear of being disowned or worse, they pretended to the world that they were heterosexual. They married the opposite sex to continue the façade of being ‘normal’.

The point is, I don’t see why Scotland as a nation should have to hold a consultation of Gay marriage. It shouldn’t be an issue and to be honest, it’s no-one else’s business if two men or two women want to get married, it doesn’t affect you. I mean, I am a straight woman but I do not think that I should have any more right to be able to get married to the man I love than any of my gay or lesbian friends do.

I’m not religious in the slightest but I will always respect and support people’s right to have a faith and be religious. However, I do not think it is right to base a democratic country such as Scotland’s laws on a religious order. Whilst I have the utmost respect for Christianity, there is no solid evidence of the existence of a God. I’m not saying there isn’t one but presently, we cannot assume for definite that there is one. However, what you cannot dispute is that there are people in this world, men with women, women with women and men with men, who love each other and wish to start a life together. Heterosexual people get the opportunity to share their love with the world without prejudice whereas homosexuals do not and that, my friends, is the sign of inequality in our society and it needs to end.

To people who believe it is there business to protect the traditional family unit and prevent homosexuals from marrying, I ask them to take a look at ‘traditional marriage’. More and more traditional marriages end in divorce now than ever before. How is that a better family unit than two loving homosexual partners who might live together forever happily in marriage but currently do not get the chance? And to the people who say that they shouldn’t be able to adopt children, I ask them to put themselves in the shoes of countless children in care and see if they would rather stay in the system or be allowed a chance at a happy life with two loving parents, regardless of gender. The world is changing and family units are changing and we can either stay in the past with narrow-minded views or we can embrace change and let everyone become equal.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but unless it affects you, don’t prevent others from doing what they believe in. Personally, I don’t believe in religion, I think it restricts people (and that might be more a more strongly-held opinion because I am female) but I don’t go out and campaign for people to stop believing in their faith. Instead, I respect and support their right to practice their faith because it doesn’t concern me and people should be allowed to live their lives in a way that suits them without affecting anyone else. However, the same courtesy is not being provided to homosexuals and that is fundamentally wrong.
If you have a problem with gay marriage then I implore you to step back and look at the situation. Do two men or two women marrying each other negatively affect your life? And secondly, if you were in their shoes and marriage between heterosexuals was illegal, how would you feel? How would you feel not being able to marry the person you love?

If you can answer both of those questions sensibly then I ask you to either support gay marriage or to not stand in its way.

I hope that in the future, when my children are my age, they can look back on this chapter in history and ask me ‘Why were gay people prejudiced in the first place?’ and realise how ridiculous we were in preventing it for such a long time. Whether my children are heterosexual, homosexual or even convert to a religious order, I don’t care because all I want is for people to be happy and to pursue the life that they want to live and most importantly, have an equal standing in society.

Equal rights, equal love.

For those interested in supporting Gay Marriage, please sign or provide feedback to the Scottish Government's consultation on Gay Marriage through here:

equalmarriage.org.uk


Thursday, 31 January 2013

'Beksinski'

I have a dilemma. I can't decide if I'm becoming an old fart or not.

I was browsing 9Gag the other night (as I do every single other night) and came across a post about an artist called Beksinski. Beksinski was a Polish artist and his work, for want of a better word, is creepy. Really creepy. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm old for finding another artist I appreciate but I'm also young because I found out about him on 9Gag. Make any sense?

People who know me, know that I don't really like horror movies. I won't go and see one in the cinema because I am all appreciative of a good night sleep without worrying that a fire-breathing, purple with pink polka-dots demon will grab my ankle that is hanging off the side of the bed and drag me straight to Hell. No-one needs that sort of thought-process before going to sleep. However, no matter how much I insist, I find the whole genre very interesting and I find these paintings very interesting. Like my previous rant about 'real art', these painting represent something: people's worst nightmares. And they're very scary, they're like photos a tourist who recently had an all-inclusive week in Hell took. And some of them match up with how I imagine 'Hell' to look like. But these paintings 'mean' something and just by looking at them, you can deduce the meaning (or find your own).

Bekinski often painted what he saw in his dreams, which makes me feel pretty sorry for the guy if this is all you're seeing in your dreams. And he lived quite the tragic life as well too.

So, Afremov and Bekinski. My two favourite artists. My ONLY two favourite artists. The only problem with Bekinski's works is that in my head, when I have the perfect family living in a perfect house, I wouldn't feel comfortable with my children seeing all these scary paintings hanging up in the living room (Original works, of course). Maybe they could be installed in the house situated on my private island. Oh well, a girl can dream...

http://www.beksinski.pl/

I think this one scares me the most. Although, add feathers and he'd look like  Aku-Aku from Crash Bandicoot.

None of these are particularly cheery but even orange, a warm colour can't make this painting look any less depressing.

This is what Hell looks like.

So yeah, that was a depressing blog. Here's a cute picture of a puppy to cheer you up!



Sunday, 27 January 2013

My Montréal Bucket List

I really like bucket lists. The reason being that they always give you something to look forward to or something to try. Basically, my bucket list serves the purpose of keeping me grounded but above all, makes life just a little bit more interesting.

I have also become self-conscious that instead of blogging about the cool things I do in Montréal, all I do is consistently moan about life and all the little things that upset the natural order of things. Therefore, in a bid  to sound less depressing like Kurt Cobain and more happy like Ellen DeGeneres, with the kind assistance of my flatmates, I have made the below bucket list of things to do in Montréal before I leave in May. 

  1. St Joseph's Oratory
  2. The Notre Dame Basilica
  3. Igloofest
  4. The Snow Festival
  5. La Banquise (For REAL Poutine)
  6. Real Montréal - Style Bagels
  7. Attend a Hockey Match
  8. Visit Beaudry Metro Station (Cool Architecture)
  9. Visit Old Port during the day
  10. Visit the Grand Prix Circuit
  11. Pilgrimage to the Bioware Studios (for my inner gamer geek)
  12. Schwartz (Smoked Meat Restaurant)
  13. Olympic Park and Tower
  14. Biodome
  15. Museum Visits
  16. Beavertails Pastries
  17. Juliet + Chocolat
  18. High Lights Festival

Thursday, 24 January 2013

An Open Letter to the Denizens of Facebook Who Are Moaning About The Weather...

(Please Note: This blog was written in an attempt to procrastinate. I'm waiting for the American Horror Story Finale at 10pm but don't really wish to read the case study for tomorrow's class either)

Dear Facebook Friends from Scotland

Once upon a time, I was like you. Once upon a time, I would have considered a temperature of -1°C unbearable. Once upon a time, six inches of snow would have resulted in a mandatory period of hibernation. Once upon a time, I would have moaned about the weather consistently.

However, my eyes have been opened and to quote the great Johnny Nash song, 'I can see clearly now that the "snow" has gone'. You see, whilst you are all whining about a minuscule layer of frost on the path, I have to walk on pure ice. Every step I take is a matter of either life or having to use my health insurance. Shall I talk about the snow? Well, I've been here nearly four weeks and there has always been snow. It's like grass now. The worst thing is that nowadays, I pray for snow. I pray for snow because it is easier to walk on than ice. I hate snow. 

Don't get me wrong, I love this city so far. The culture is great and there are so many things to see and do. The people are very friendly (even the bus drivers say 'Hi', I'm not used to that) and HEC is probably the nicest university I've ever been to, let alone study in. However, when I chose North America for exchange, I was hoping for a climate more 'Florida' than 'Siberia'. I don't wish to sound ungrateful (even though I'm probably coming across ungrateful anyway), just hold in there, I'm going to say something nice now!

Yet, despite all this, Montreal just shrugs it off and gets on with life. 30cm of snow? Well, you better get your snowshoes on because neither work or university is closed and you're expected in. Buses and Trains? Always running and are still reliable. The thing is, people here have balls. They don't let anything get in their stride, they don't make excuses and they don't moan. It's admirable. I admit, the latter is something I'm still struggling with. I'm the moaniest person I know and not a day goes by without me remarking how cold it is (I say remarking, I mean ranting). So, I guess I'm hoping that if I can take anything from this experience, it's that I learn to 'man up' about the Scottish weather.

To show you what I mean, here are a few exhibits I wish to show to the 'court'.

Exbitit A: Snow Level


Okay, so I'm not going to lie to you, this was taken a short time after the 'freak snowstorm' hit Montreal. This amount of snow is a rare occurrence but still, SNOW.

Exhibit B: Clothing Layers



This is a hideous picture, it should come with a disclaimer about going blind but for the sake of fairness, I am allowing it to be published. This picture was taken today, when I had a pair of leggings, jeans, two tops, two scarves, large fleece, winter jacket, hat and earmuffs on. And I was still cold. Why? It was -26°C. 

Exhibit C: Paths


I can deal with most things here. Snow is okay now. But pure ice on the path? No. I've fallen over twice and both times wasn't pretty. I walk slower than the elderly here and that is shameful. But I'm so frightened of breaking my legs.

So, I guess the point of this open letter was to tell my Scottish friends who feel the constant need to moan about the weather TO MAN THE FUCK UP AND GET A GRIP. PEOPLE HAVE TO DEAL WITH FAR WORSE. EVEN FAR WORSE THAN WHAT I'M DEALING WITH. STOP BEING PUSSIES AND GET ON WITH IT. 

'Ahem' have a nice day!

Amy :)

P.S. Yesterday, my Auntie's gorgeous Golden Retriever, Robbie, sadly passed away. I know he was only a dog and perhaps some people don't appreciate how upsetting this can be to people but I was gutted to hear about his death (and cried on FaceTime, I'm not even ashamed). He was such a nice-natured dog, with his dopey wee eyes and inability to climb stairs without a push. We will always have the memories, such as when he jumped on my parent's bed on Christmas Day when we looked after him. So, God love you Robbie Dog, you will be sadly missed!


Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Welcome To My New Life.

Okay, I can hear all the complaints for not blogging all the way from Canada, so pipe down! I apologise for being pretty silent on the blog front in the last week or so but the reason is quite simple: I've been ill and pretty much done nothing. See, Canada didn't like me to begin with so I think it tried to kill me off. However, I persevered and now, I have a health bar at about 90%.

So, in a bid to satiate all of your appetites and jump back on the wagon, I've cheated by not blogging in a traditional sense (mwahaha) and instead, made a video starring me as myself and my flat. I hope you enjoy my dulcet, albeit slightly wheezy tones.







Monday, 7 January 2013

There is such a thing as a free lunch...

Apart from pain and heartache, the worst feeling in the world is hearing your alarm go off in the morning. The same, familiar beep always induces a painful groan at having to abandon the warmth of your bed and actually 'do stuff'. What's worse is that if you use a song that you like as your alarm, you eventually associate it with the negative painfulness of waking up and you begin to hate the song. To this day, I cannot listen to 'Sahara' by Nightwish without feeling physically sick.

Luckily, I didn't sleep through the alarm on Thursday morning as I usually do and woke at 7am. I put some toast in the toaster before realising that the university were providing it today and gleefully put it back in the cupboard (another day's lunch, woo hoo)! We all got ready and headed to the university which is about a ten minute walk (or fifteen minutes for slow walkers like me...) and got to the steps of HEC Montreal and ventured inside. We asked at reception where we were due to go and was directed to go up the stairs to the cafeteria. It's hard to describe how I felt when I saw inside for the first time but I was quite overwhelmed with how beautiful it is. It's so modern, sleek, clean, white, fresh and ... cool. Cool is probably the perfect word to describe it. We were told to register at a desk and we were given a sticker with our name and home country on it before being directed to the breakfast table. I have to say, I was very impressed, it was like a Hilton Breakfast (which I am now very accustomed to and can vouch they are awesome). Settling for a Croissant and what looked like Pain au Chocolat, I sat with my flatmates. 

After about half an hour we were directed into the 'Amphitheatre' (loving all the posh rooms already) and were introduced to International Exchange Office personnel, who were all very nice, friendly and warm. They gave us a lecture on Montreal, how to survive Winter (hibernation isn't an option apparently, damn) and a basic introduction into life here. We were then directed to the cafeteria again and waited for lunch to be served (my purse was rejoicing). Lunch was amazing, nice sandwiches, pasta, houmous... I can tell you all right now that Strathclyde would never prepare a spread like that. The Danish Whirls were also pretty awesome. Whilst collecting our lunch, we were given our 'Fresher's Week' wristbands, which would give us access to pretty much every activity under the sun (or snow, whatever). 

After lunch, we explored a bit more of the building and discovered that there are no room numbers in HEC, rather they are all named after local businesses, who probably sponsor them (quite clever I think). For example, there was Scotia Banque, KPMG, Xerox Canada etc. (None of these I have heard of, of course). The rooms look amazing inside as well, comfy chairs, big screens. It really does make Strathclyde look like a rubbish heap and even though I may crave for home, I doubt I will look forward to returning to the Strathclyde campus (or starting a dissertation for that matter).

After delaying the inevitable, we finally joined the back of the registration queue to pay for our health insurance. I'm not even exaggerating when I say the queue didn't move for an hour and then we had to go and show our passport to someone and that took about twenty minutes too. However, as soon as it was done, we decided to show Ludovica where the supermarket was and help her get some stuff. The paths were really slippy that day and I was taking my time but also lagging behind (normal Amy speed really). We eventually made it to the supermarket, albeit, the scenic route and I was celebrating having made it. Until I put my foot off the kerb and slipped on a bit of ice. It was weird, as I was falling backwards, I had enough time to think 'Oh no' before I landed. Luckily, I landed on my bum and my bones were still intact. This is a win for me. Never have I been so happy to carry excess weight! However, I made a decision there and then to avoid shortcuts and follow all paths. It's weird, you lose your confidence a wee bit but you have to get back out there. 

We walked to Pharmaprix, a sort of Boots and I looked for painkillers, having been blessed with the foresight that I was going to have a very sore arse in the morning. However, at $10 for a packet of Tylenol  I preferred suffering the pain. I'm not sure why they don't do 39p packets of Paracetamol here, the prices here are just ridiculous. We then waited at Fido for about an hour before going to the shops. By the time we got home, it was about seven and we needed to leave the house at quarter to eight to go to the first bar of  Fresher's Week. I managed to wolf down some left over pasta from the day before (I am so into the leftover food movement, it's glorious) and put a bit of slap on before heading to HEC. We then had to walk to the bar, which was for me, a hard slog of a walk and we passed Decelles, the other building which I have the misfortune of having a class at 8.30am on a Tuesday. We then went to Bar Tabasco, which turned out to be a ten minute walk from our apartment. We had gone in a circle. Lovely.

Bar Tabasco was great. The drink prices were not too shabby and I got the opportunity to speak to a lot of my fellow exchange students, in a relaxed environment, where we could head each other speak. We then walked home after a few hours and went to bed early, to be up and ready for another amazeballs lecture (yay).