John Brown University's Student Newspaper
In 2021, Twitch streamer and content creator Steven Flavall, aka Jorbs, spoke with John Brown students at length about creating and maintaining a brand. Two years later, Flavall is publishing a book on the underbelly of content creation. In his memoir, Before We Go Live, he delves deeply into some of the traumatic experiences he and his coworkers have faced during their time in content creation.
Lately, I’ve been on a big Russian literature kick. I read Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace for the first time a couple of months ago, and I’m working my way through some Dostoyevsky right now. There seems to be something magnetic about Russian literature; it stands apart from other genres in a way that’s difficult to describe. I find the genre intensely relatable yet foreign enough to provide a novel perspective on human nature. The stories are gripping, with just enough romance to give them a patina of tragedy. They are full of timeless moral dilemmas and social quandaries that remain pertinent across time and space, despite the innumerable cultural divides that exist between 19th-century Russia and 21st-century America. I credit the timelessness of the Russian greats to the fact that their writing is rooted in and constructed around the humanness of their stories. At the end of the day, the plots rely only nominally on time and place and substantively on people and relationships—the setting is merely a catalyst for the social entanglements that are so distinct in Russian literature.
Generally speaking, when I read a good book, I have no qualms recommending it to others. However, I now find myself in the unusual position of having read a good book that I cannot recommend—not without a sharp pang of misgiving in my chest. Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica is one of the most polarizing works of fiction I’ve had the pleasure (or rather, agony) of reading. Initially published in Argentina in 2017, the book’s 2020 debut into the English-speaking world coincided perfectly with the social trauma inflicted by the Covid-19 pandemic. The context and timing of its publication give the book a veneer of eerie realism and relatability that it would not have otherwise had, casting a sinister shadow over the novel.
Since the publishing of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood in 1966, the true crime genre has grown increasingly popular in media. Especially amongst younger generations, consumers’ love for true crime has become a defining personality trait. It is something they love to share with other people. Podcasts like Crime Junkies and series like Ted Bundy: Falling for a Killer have catered to consumers’ craving for true crime and united the true crime community. However, it wasn’t until the recent release of Netflix’s Dahmer that many people began to question the ethics of the true crime genre.
Flowers for Algernon is a heart-wrenching work of psychological fiction by author Daniel Keyes. The novel follows the journey of a mentally disabled man named Charlie Gordon who is chosen to undergo an experimental surgical procedure to increase his intelligence. The experiment had previously been tested on a mouse named Algernon who shows remarkable improvement in intelligence after the procedure. Keyes presents the novel in the form of progress reports written by Charlie, giving unique insights into the emotional and psychological changes he undergoes as his intelligence increases. Though published in 1966, the novel has just as much relevance today as it did then, if not more. I won’t disclose further plot details of the book for fear of spoiling future readers’ enjoyment; however, I would like to offer my review. I hope readers will find my thoughts compelling enough to pick up the book themselves.
Gun violence in America has surpassed all fathomable levels of severity. The situation is beyond unacceptable, and something needs to be done immediately. Children and teachers are being gunned down in their schools, shoppers are laid waste in supermarkets and minorities are brutalized and killed by police. Never in my wildest dreams would I have predicted such a dire state of affairs ten, five or even two years ago—yet here we are.
Israeli-Palestinian relations rapidly deteriorated last week following a series of violent events that erupted in the West Bank city of Jenin and in East Jerusalem. Prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing coalition government made one of its first major moves last Thursday when Israeli security forces conducted a raid on the West Bank city of Jenin, killing 7 gunmen and 2 civilians. According to Philip Luther at Amnesty International, “[f]or almost a year, Jenin refugee camp has been at the center of Israel’s escalating military crackdown. Palestinian journalist Shireen Abu Akleh was shot dead in the camp last May, and its residents continue to be subjected to relentless military raids which amount to collective punishment.”
In recent years, artificial intelligence has made significant strides in the field of natural language processing, leading to the development of ChatGPT, a chatbot that is capable of generating human-like text in response to prompts. While ChatGPT and other similar technologies have the potential to revolutionize many industries, there are also concerns about how they may negatively impact college education.
As the sparkling crown is placed upon her head, she smiles. Fernanda has just won the Miss Costa Rica beauty pageant. Because Fernanda comes from the same canton as I do, I felt proud and represented at the time; however, I began to wonder about the power these types of competitions hold over women. As a college student, I have witnessed how beauty conceptions influence women from a fairly early age. This has led me to think of beauty pageants in a broader way, where beauty represents the value and worth of a person. On one hand, many people perceive beauty pageants as the foundation of the stereotypes depicting how women should look and behave. On the other hand, the sponsors of these contests proclaim that beauty pageants represent the culture, tradition and values to which the contestants belong. Because of this, beauty pageants transcend from merely physical representations of beauty features to intangible characteristics that shape social awareness. Considering this, I plan to present both perspectives to impel reflection upon the following questions: are beauty pageants contributing to improving women’s conditions throughout the globe? Is beauty itself required to create awareness to obtain social justice?
“I felt her moving and I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t take her life.” The old woman’s eyes teared up as she began to tell the story of her daughter’s controversial birth. As enemies of the state in the communist, third world country of Albania, her family could barely afford the two children they already had, let alone a new baby. The emotional and financial burden of having a child seemed to outweigh any benefit. She was strongly encouraged to set up an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. However, a few days before the procedure, she felt her unborn child’s kick inside of her, and conviction overcame her. She kept the child, who would later become my mother. While my grandmother’s story took place almost fifty years ago, the abortion rights argument is highly controversial because of the recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling. My grandmother’s story brings up some of the biggest points in the debate. Someone who supports abortion might ask, “if the fetus is dependent on the mother, why would it be wrong for a mother to prioritize her life and well-being?” Likewise, abortion is the merciful solution if a child would grow up in an adverse environment. While I agree that there are many good points to be made on the mother’s side, abortion is immoral even when a child may inconvenience the mother. Similarly, there is benefit to giving a child the chance to live even if they are born into adversity. This matters because tackling these misconceptions can result in opposing sides making progress and finding common ground in the abortion rights debate.