Kyle Davis

Ethnographical Study for the week of November 18th, 2013

Seventeen Magazine

            This week, Seventeen’s website has taken quite an in-depth look at American society, via a sociological view of the nation’s excessive vanity. Actually, they’ve really just been discussing the “selfie” phenomenon in a superfluous fashion, but it’s definitely a possible social commentary (sort of). First, Seventeen lets readers know that the Oxford Dictionary has named “selfie” its 2013 Word of the Year. Great work, America! Incorporating an unusually statistical tone, the magazine for young women informs us that the use of the word “selfie” in the United States has increased by a horrifying 17,000%. That has to be at least twice as much as the daily recommended intake. They also attribute this rise to renowned humanitarian Justin Bieber, who, as stated in another article from Seventeen, has reportedly invested one million dollars in a new selfie-taking app, known as “Shots of Me.” If you’ve been able to process all of this information, you make want to download the new app that I’ve invested five dollars in, “Shots of Tequila.” Because I’m not sure I’m going to make it through this pop culture climate sober. 

“howl” by knasty

my eyes glazed golden,

not yellow.

my lips lick a smile,

not a scowl.

I am a warrior

I’m ready to howl.

the moon looms over

a swirling purple sky

out of the shadows

I cry tonight.

No longer am I

drier than the desert

because now the tides

course through my veins

& this wild me hungers

for sweet, succulent life

and soon you will believe it

when they cry wolf.

“storm season” by knasty

I always hated the rain.

the cold, wet wind

under the somber sky

and the dark days that turned

to darker, dreary nights

but when you kissed me there

in the rain and

under that sky

I think I could understand

the beauty in

the cool, sweet dew

that trickled down your forehead 

when you laughed and

curved around your cherry lip.

and even though it was cold

I had never felt

so warm.

“seventeen.” by knasty

nothing can replace

what you took from me

when I was seventeen

& happy

& free

& alive.

but you, with your cold, dark hands

you clenched my dreams,

clawed at them until nothing,

nothing but shreds

were left.

and I sit here in the remnants now

laying in the rubble of broken promise

wondering why you chose me

to take from me,

to set a match to the hopes I had

and left me bruised in the ashes.

I am not happy.

I am not happy, because you took that too

And I sit here now, still.

Wondering why you chose me.