For me, this story isn’t really about pushing boundaries. Honi Soit already pushed boundaries when it published an issue with a penis on the cover. The censorship is fundamentally a sexist act.
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There is something truly wonderful about enjoying the rain instead of worrying about whether or not my assorted electronics will get ruined. I also feel a sense of freedom when I go exploring and see things through two original lenses—my eyes—instead of an Instagram filter.
All of these solutions have merit in theory. But this isn’t theory; this is reality.
We’re all fat. At least that’s what mainstream media would like us to believe, bombarding us with images of size two models or men with ripped eight-packs in commercials asking us to pay for a gym membership.
I am unaware of anyone who has not felt disgusted and pained by the massacre in Newtown. How is it possible for a man to walk into an elementary school with a legally obtained military assault weapon and open fire on innocent children?
In this space, we let you sound off on issues we’ve covered in the Fulcrum. This week we ask some questions about cyber safety.
This year, let’s make a promise to each other. Instead of passing by the brightly coloured elections posters, let’s read them.
Just ask anyone who’s been hacked. The downside to getting digital can be disastrous.
“The modern sugar daddy is a successful and generous man who is willing to pamper and offer financial help or gifts to a young person in return for friendship and companionship.” Oh, and don’t worry, boys, there are plenty of sugar mamas on the website too.
An electoral system that encourages voter apathy is hardly what our country should strive for. So what’s the solution? Reform.
To add insult to injury, Simone was celebrated for her Afro-centric looks and penned songs about racism, and was a major player in the civil rights movement. So why does Hollywood feel the need to “whitewash” her character?
With an increasing number of Canadians being diagnosed with heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, obesity, and other serious diet-related illnesses, the OMA’s latest campaign is pushing for change.
All of these statements have one thing in common: they fall under the umbrella of conspiracy theories.
As I looked at one VHS in particular, I began thinking back to the documentaries we watched in class at my old high school, and then a thought struck me: We don’t teach politics enough.
When I snapped back to reality, I was met with the sound of hundreds of keyboard keys being furiously tapped. It made me feel so tiny, lost in a vast sea of clicking.
The Grand Old Party’s online video campaign was an instant success, creating more interest than ever in the party’s policies.
But what gets me is Wente being allowed to publish another column like nothing happened.
They’re cutting edge, but most importantly, they’re cool. You do not listen to their music. Therefore, you are not cool.
It is no secret that we English Quebecers feel a certain disconnect with our own province. This disconnect explains why we turn the television off when Jean Charest or Pauline Marois come on and why we choose any activity over heading to a ballot box.
In fact, one person I spoke to who had deleted his profile described how a Facebook group was set up in his honour asking whether he was dead or not because, obviously, life can’t go on without Facebook. Or can it?
It’s difficult to define our age group by a couple of sentences—especially when most of us are meandering young adults just starting to discover who we really are. But, undeniably, there are a few distinct things about our generation that makes us, well, us.
But because frosh week targets such a specific group of students, it ends up alienating other groups. And school spirit, which should exist all year round, becomes a manufactured byproduct of frosh—a product with a short shelf life.
I come from a rural town in the west of Ireland, where about 95 per cent of the population is Irish and Caucasian, so Ottawa was quite a culture shock for me. No two people are in any way similar, and I love it!
As I walk around our great city, I can’t help but notice a trend: cyclists are douchebags. Now I do realize that there are many cyclists out there who are nice people, but the majority of them are assholes.
But apart from all the grammar help, the Fulcrum has taught me valuable lessons that can’t be learned in a classroom.
