Blog Archives

College: The price of your degree that you can never get back

Isn’t it ironic he way in which college forces you to spend inordinate amounts of money (in relation to the services that it provides) that put you tremendously in debt, just so that one day you might get a job that pays a decent wage?  Emphasis on the word “might” by the way.  Because there are no definite’s.  Hard work won’t under all circumstances yield your dream life, and conversely, supreme stupidity will not always leave you homeless (see every single reality tv star ever).  There are no guarantees in life, even though it feels like maybe there should be, and while this is regrettable, it is not something that will be changed by activism, as it is really only as prevelent these days as the cause is trendy.

In that regard the less academically inclined among us are still out of luck.  It seems that so few people have found fault with this system that requires us to put ourselves deeply into debt just for the chance at a job that provides a live able wage.  People get so caught up with this “need” for a higher education, that they don’t ever stop to think that their could possibly be an alternative. Perhaps they are right not to dwell on it.  Perhaps this “Hunger Games,” esque, survival of the fittest arena of education and job hunting has become so institutionalized that the probability of other options gaining traction are so slim that the efforts to create such a thing would be better directed elsewhere.  Either way, it’s something to think about isn’t it.  I’ve always figured that your degree costs a good deal more than the sticker price.  Besides four years of your life, it costs your dreams.  That is not to say that everyone can, or should dedicate their lives to the pursuit of a rock and roll career that they will never have, but rather it just seems worth mentioning that once they take that plunge, get that degree, and enter into white corporate America, I do believe that they pay not just the hundred thousand dollars or so of tuition, but also that creative fire in their belly that they had had up until their eighteenth birthday.  And that passion you can never get back.

Food for thought.

Paul Durante

Follow me on Twitter @DewmontPaul

Thoughts in Between Class: The Teacher you think is homeless

This may be exclusive to the english department, but in my experience there are two types of professors:  Those that look like sixty seven year old men posing as preppy college students, and those taht dress as though they are homeless.  There is of course the occasional old gentleman teacher that dresses modestly but well, but they are few and far in between.  A note should be made that this is exclusive really only to men.  Women dress like normal fucking people.  Today I had one of the homeless men.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the homeless, I just never expect to see them teaching me children’s literature.  Is it a political statement that he wore dirty, torn clothes. or is there a story behind it?  perhaps he had just vcome form his own The Hangover type situation in which he gave his tooth to ed helms and somehow predicted that Bradley Cooper would be succesful.  And you know, put on dirty clothes afterwards.  I’m not sure what it was, but whatever the case, it was all that I considered for the duration for the class.  To say the least, it was more fun than actually thinking about childrens literature.

Thanks for reading

Paul Durante

Please follow me on twitter @DewmontPaul

I’m Done!!!

this is going one becasue, well it can be. i’m done motherfuckers! school is over. no more papers, no more tests, no more nothing. im free as a motherfucking zebra. im an eel that hasnt been entrapped in a confining tank, roaming out and about in the open sea shocking starfish and taking names. and im all out of starfish. or names. whatever. i’m free!
time for netflix, friends, family, and reading. oh god. READING. i forgot that people could even do that. you know, because im a college student and all. for the last four months my life has been a hurricane of sparknotes and wikipedia. to read for fun, and to do it from a real live book (*livilyness of books may vary*) will be wonderful. i can even contemplate playing a video game. that would be nice. i never play video games. oh sure, i play pokemon from time to time, but that is more of a lifestyle choice than anything else, and its one that i carryout proudly. gosh. i cant wait to forget all of the bullshit that i just learned.
thanks for reading guys.
paul durante.
please follow my blog by entering in your email address on the right hand side of the screen, and follow me on twitter @DewmontPaul

The value of Paper: A story that has nothing to do with paper.

I am a junior in college, which is cause enough to be bitter, a state that I loudly and proudly inhabit as most of you who have read my previous blog posts understand. The way that i see it, college is only sort of a choice. Some people love it, some people hate it, and others don’t understand it, but we all do it because while the choice is presented to us as being one in which you either go to college or don’t, the truth of the matter is that the choice is between the middle class, and working at Dairy Queen.
For the record, there is no shame in working at Dairy Queen, or at places like it. God knows i’ve done it. But that isn’t the point. We’re talking about money here. We are paying for money. We are dedicating YEARS of our fucking lives in the pursuit of money. We are paying tens of thousands of dollars a year so that when we graduate we can pretend that we have MOTHERFUCKING GOD DAMN SHIT STAINED BLOOD FUCKING MONEY.
…….Now that being said, having money isn’t so bad. It’s living the lie that irks me. College professors aren’t teachers. I’m not trying to make a statement with that, I am telling the truth. The complete and utterly non debateble truth. College professors are not teachers. They go to school where they learn to research and they are hired by the universities on the grounds of said research where they are employed and expected to bring in more research, which inevitably leads to grants that allow the university to erect a bigger library for, you guessed it, more fucking research.
They aren’t there to teach. They are there to pretend to be students for the rest of their lives, and to sound smart because of the brilliant fucking secondary Scholarship articles that they formulate that are so boring they have to be brilliant.
I’m not saying that college professors are bad people. I’ve had some great ones myself. That’s not really the issue either. The point is, college is not high school. where you are cementing in the fundementals learned in grade school, and developing as people. College is an entirely different beast in which you attend for the sole purpose of landing a job. The knowledge itself is nothing that you can’t find on wikipedia. I know this for fact because my 3.5 gpa has been sustained almost solely by wikepedia. So that’s it then. My thoughts. My disertation. The price of paper. Your dignity. Your happiness. Your money. Your time.
Paul Durante
Think I’m a cynical snot? Tell me all about it on twitter! Follow me @DewmontPaul

Lies your teachers tell you.

The notion that school is important is itself a delusion. Jobs are important, and while an extended education is most certainly a typically critical way of obtaining one, understanding the thought process of William Blake (an arrogant asshole if ever there was one) will not help me at any important moment of my life. On my wedding day (next July my friends) understanding the metaphorical implications of Thel will not do me any favors. When my first child is born (not next July) understanding the signifigance of “Cry’s from the Daughters of Albinon,” will not do me any favors. Granted, I am an English major, which of course means that my studies are largely confined to a socially structured notion of what is or is not important. Essentially, Dante (who is far less an asshole than Blake though hardly more exciting) is important because my suit wearing PHD tainted professor says the he is. The truth of course is that that is not correct. I am the same person that I was two years ago, regardless of what I now know about the historical undertones of what Mary Shelly was saying in Frankenstein. I will make the allowance of mentioning that I do like books, and while I very clearly have a particularly harsh disdain for Mr. Blake, some of the texts that we read aren’t so bad. I have enjoyed the Illiad, the Odessey, the works of Langston Hughes and Mary Shelley, and even that of Jane Austin. Dante is interesting as well, and so are the works of Junot Diaz and Michael Chabon. And for the grand total of seventy five dollars and an amazon account, I could have obtained and read those texts at my leisure. Instead I spend my days literally tens of thousands of dollars in debt reading three weeks at a time and wondering what my teachers want me to say about them. I feel it goes without saying that this is not a pleasant existance.
“Shut the hell up you stupid piece of shit and go back to acting poorly and calling yourself Stirfry!”
WOAH. Some hostility from the back. OK, i can recognize that some of my complaints are exclusive to my major, and that I am indeed a bad actor with a knack for naming characters after food. But does that mean that I am wrong, and that the education system is perfect? I don’t think so.
While I have chosen a field of study in which all texts are subjective and the act of judging an assesment of said texts is a shocking abuse of power, the same can not be said of all majors. Biology is for an example a major that very well might actually be a necessary step in the process of working in the field of science. While I hate the notion that a sustainable job can essentially only be obtained through continued education, I can readily accept the fact that for many fields extended learning is necessary. Doctors for example should feel free to learn as much as they can before they start cutting people open. But does it have to be so expensive? My campus has multiple show piece buildings constructed costly for the sake of archticture and maintained thoroughly each year so as not to degrade. That’s where my tuition is going. At my old school (the inspiration for Dewmont) half of my classes took place in trailers behind campus, and the yearly tuition was 6000$ . You can call me an asshole, but it simply does not make sense to say that the way that we spend money for education is practicle. We need more Dewmont, and A whole hell of a lot less Harvard.
Thanks ,
Think I’m an ignorant fool? Take to the internet to tell me! Follow me on Twitter @DewmontPaul and tell me all about how silly I am.

3 AM is A lonely place to be

Hello all that are decent or perhaps indecent enough to be up at this hour, and a particularly warm thank you to those kindly enough both to be up, and to be up looking at my website.  Isn’t it dreadful? The world is sleeping, but if you are like me, you just can’t, not for the life of you.  It’s been a sort of common occurrence for me, for the majority of my life anyway.  I used to assign some sort of significance to it, as if there was some type of more profound, or perhaps even destiny oriented cause for my lack of sleep.  As if me up at four in the morning watching infomercials on the golf channel would somehow be the soil in which I would one day plant the roots that would surely lead to my term as president.  Or at least to the start of a career in infomercials.  Now I know that it is just because I have a very silly brain, that still refuses to undersanstand that activity is the very last thing that a weary brain needs.  Oh well, fools may be the last to learn but they sure as hell get it eventually.  One day you will find me, sixty years old and well rested, but until then, I blog, and write children stories about badgers.

Oh, and that brings me to what else I am doing.  It wasn’t really my intention to cover this in this post, but I also never intended write this post, so to hell with all the rules.  My girlfriend and I are currently writing a childrens book about a semi autistic badger in post apocalyptic Kansas City.  So if that sounds interesting to you some words of encouragement would be more than lovely, because frankly it isn’t as easy as you might guess.  I am also writing a full length adult geared story about a suicidal teenager hunted by a demon dog, and a ghost that likes AC/DC, and I am writing, directing, and acting in a web series, as well as podcasting and poorly maintaining this blog.  It’s a busy summer for me. 

If you have any interest in any of my projects, and it would be just dandy if you did, it’s extremely easy to track.  Of course you can always find me here, I fully intend to step up my blogging game, but you can also find me on Twitter @DewmontPaul (The link isn’t broken, it just doesn’t exist–I don’t know how to do it) on youtube at “The Dewmont Daze,” and hopefully on ITunes in the very near future at “Dewmont Speaks.” I have already uploaded a few teaser sort of videos for what is to be my web series.  There will be videos posted very regularly up until December but the actual series doesn’t really launch until December.  However, it would be great if you could check it out now.  This link actually does work.  I’d love for you all to watch it.  Subscribe if you dig it, comment to tell me how you feel about it.  Even if you hate it, I love to hear from you.


Friend Zone

Friend Zone

By Drake Mahoney

                Listen, most of you don’t want to hear this, but shut up and listen.  There is no friend zone.  There’s simply no such thing.  Friend zone is the thing that guys say when they want to place the blame of their single relationship status on someone else, who in truth doesn’t want to date them.  “But she only dates dicks, and then complains to me about it,” you might say to yourself.  Glad you mentioned it: it doesn’t matter.  You have not been friend zoned, you have been: I only like this person as a friend zoned.  It’s not as catchy but it’s a whole hell of a lot less damaging.

                Why am I mentioning it? I don’t hate down on their luck bachelors, and I am certainly not here to make them feel worse about what they see as their struggles, but I am here to give this culture of misogyny a scolding.  I understand that it hurts when someone doesn’t feel the same way as you do, but that does not mean that that they have made some sort of mistake, or that they have somehow missed the “overwhelmingly obvious fact” that the two of you are meant to be together.  The truth of the matter is that women in our culture have enough going against them as it is, and they need to be allowed to date the way that they want, even if they want to date assholes. 

                Women get scolded for engaging in this “friend zone” thing.  People get mad at them, and judge them for not going for the so called nice guy.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that he (or you depending on the perspective of the reader) is absolutely lovely, but this simply can’t continue.  Women are judged on every little thing, including their appearance, diet, and fashion choice.  They can’t be judged on who they date too.

A note to Haters, Fans, And Barock Obama

Hey guys! Administrator here to apologize on behalf of us all here at the Daily Dewmont News for our lack of post in the past weeks.  Sometimes life gets in the way, and all of our writers seem to have lives that are ripping from the seams.  Barnibus is in love, Kathy is heartbroken, Otto is…high, April has a family related emergency, and, well that about covers it. It’s been a tremendous few weeks, especially once you factor in all of the exams and such but I would like to assure you that those things are behind us.  Not love or heartbreak, those things tend to linger, but while absence surely does make the heart grow fonder, it is something that we have collectively decided to give up.  Starting next week we intend fully to get the Daily Dewmont News up and running just the way that you have grown accustomed to.  We thank every single one of you for your patience in this matter. 

Debt in the city: I almost called it ‘Sex’

By Drake Mahoney

I thought about calling it sex in the city and forgetting the word play altogether (which is at best mediocre to begin with) because I figured that it was a more intriguing title.  I would venture to guess that more people would care to read about sex than debt, but surprise surprise: once you gave me the honor of your click you would be faced with the same useless nonsense that you are about to encounter now.  Aren’t I lovely?

I suppose that I should be strait foreward, and admit that we won’t really be talking about the city either.  I live in Illinois, with no nearby city to speak of.  I could tell you about the corn, but if your really curious about it, I would refer you to google image over this blog.  Alright, are we all on the same page? Good, let’s talk about college.

I don’t know about you, but this whole idea of spending money on college is starting to get under my skin.  It’s sort of silly when you think about it, especially once you take into consideration that European schools don’t pay for their extended education.  The idea is that you can’t get a job unless you go to college, but the truth is, I don’t really want one of those either.  They say that seventy percent of people hate what they do for a living.  Probably because they had to spend eighty thousand dollars to do it. 

I don’t know about you, but the future sounds just as unappealing as the present.  The only thing that sounds worse than this horrendous invevibility is working another day at Dairy Queen, which is sure to be my future should I not continue to pay to be tortured by the looming threat of fractions and history tests.  Life is hard isn’t it?

Two years of love, and A lifetime more

Two years of love

By Barnibus Fowley

Hello everyone! I am going to be brief, because, well…today I have better things to do.  I’m sorry, it isn’t nice to say, but it’s true.  Two years ago today, I started dating the most loving, beautiful, amazing person that I have ever met, and I knew almost immediately that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.  In fact, that is all I want.  I have dreamt of being many things: a writer, an actor, a pro golfer, even a lawyer during a misguided period of time in my life.  I still want to be a writer, but there is only one thing that I need now, and that is a lifetime of good health with this woman.  Thank you all for reading this post that has nothing to do with you.