By ryan March 29, 2001
Visit the Duke Power Company web site and you’ll be dazzled by the colorful, dynamic graphics and buzz words like “smart energy,” “share the warmth,” and “community involvement”. Visit the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA) home page and you’ll discover a very different message encased in a simple, straight-forward graphic environment. The buzz words here are very different: legislative action, black lung disease, health and safety. Long before the invention of the Web, there weren’t any colorful pages of buzz words and high-tech graphics. There were guns, poverty, stalemates, death, disease, economics, unions, and coal mines. In 1973 there was a great face off in Harlan County, Kentucky between the UMWA and Duke Power Company. There was no warmth being shared, and although there was community involvement, it wasn’t the kind that Duke aligns itself with in this era of the politically correct corporation. Harlan County, a documentary of the struggle for unionization by coal miners and their families committed to celluloid by Barbara Kopple, is a testimony to this monumental battle for fair representation, wages, benefits, and work environments. However, this is not the only attestation the film delivers. It is a declaration of the millions of people who have lived the life of a coal mining town over the last one hundred years. It embalms a culture, a lifestyle, a struggle, an adventure that stems from the history of coal mining, so that all who cannot experience it may know and all who survived may remember. The beginning of the documentary ushers us into a new world with a soundtrack of weary voices singing old and cherished folk songs about coal mining culture. The cracked, vibrant voices change the perception of true soul music. It is as if the souls of the singers flow out through their voices bringing with them the never forgotten souls of the coal mining people of long ago. Following this solemn introduction is a historical overview of the coal mining industry as well as the culture of the people it created. There is an honest effort on the part of Kopple to present a circular picture of the industry. She not only presents the stories of veteran miners, but also current workers and their wives and daughters, and their union. Throughout the film, Kopple also travels to the flipside in search of the Duke Power Company perspective. One well executed and poignant scene is comprised of a crossing of a literal and figurative line between these two factions. The strikers and “scabs,” or people hired to replace striking workers during a strike, sit on either side of a dirt road leading to the coal mine in Harlan. They wield firearms, indicative of the high tensions and desperate turning point of the unionization struggle. When the county sheriff shows up to insure the peace, the camera follows him across the dirt road line from the striking side to the company side. With this back and forth motion of the camera, the audience is presented with both perspectives on the situation, both reactions, and the fear experienced by both camps. Another notable juxtaposition occurs in the unlikely setting of Wall Street. A gang of Kentucky coal miners in hard hats stand outside the Stock Exchange with picket signs warning investors of the instability of Duke Power. Soon a policeman, fully equipped with a New York accent, begins to chat with one of the Southern drawling miners on the line. It is partly comical, but also partly disturbing to hear these two very different people compare their jobs. The coal miner tells the cop that his job must be dangerous, but the cop laughs at the thought, saying he just walks around all day. The miner tells him that workers die every day to supply the power that keeps his city running. The cop then innocently remarks that the miner must make a decent chunk of change. The miner just shakes his head, saying that he cannot even afford to bring his children to the dentist. Harlan County, much like the miners and families it represents, is a strong and forceful documentary. It is a solemn and important piece of history that will continue to educate, move, and inspire generations to come.Archived article by Laura Thomas
By ryan March 29, 2001
One of my favorite songs by the Rolling Stones makes a great observation. “You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.” As college students, we are so mature in some ways, and in others, we are as clueless as Bjork’s sense of fashion (“Thank you, my friend made [my swan muppet dress]”). Oftentimes we don’t know what it is that we want, and on some rare but fortunate occasions, we actually get what we need. Through a series of events that may not have been exactly what Britney and G. Killian would have wanted, it seems as though they got exactly what they needed. To recap the past five months in the relationship between Britney (of Pepsi stardom) and G. Killian (of Dino’s stardom), they broke up in November. But … they were only kind of broken up. They still told each other everything, were virtually best friends, and slept together on a regular basis. The only exception was that they were hooking up with other people too, and each was hating that the other was doing this. Their rules, not mine. FRONT, BACK, TOGETHER It was a typical spring break full of sun, daiquiris, and lots of undergrads suddenly adopting a minimalist philosophy for their wardrobes (all of which resulted in the inevitable gratuitous sex). Britney was living it up with her friends in some locale south of the border. Unfortunately, she had made a mutual promise with G. not to have sex with anyone over break, but fortunately everything else would have been considered playing it by the rules. Amidst the near-nude drunken insanity that can be spring break, an out of character dance floor hook-up led to a bedroom hookup which led to the breaking of Britney’s promise to G. The reason that this column is different from every other one is that here is where it gets good. Upon returning to Cornell, Britney told G. about her breach of contract. He said that he had decided that if she broke their promise he would never speak to her again. She did what anyone in her situation would do: begged for forgiveness. “I’m sure a lot of people out there think that I deserve to be dumped, not only for screwing around, but for the way I’d been treating G. Killian for a long time,” she said. “I had perfected the art of taking as much as possible, while giving as little as possible.” He caved. “Some of you are probably thinking I’m just setting myself up for more heartbreak … that I’m an idiot,” he said. “To tell you the truth, a small part of me is thinking that, too.” Nonetheless, even though he wanted to tell Britney it was over, he decided that he needed her. And despite their rocky past, it seems as though this time may actually be for keeps. Brtiney’s last words on the topic were, “I want nothing more than to be happy with him for the rest of my life.” In the words of Keanu Reeves, “Woah.” I last spotted G. and Britney walking blissfully through campus, arm in arm with huge seemingly permanent grins on their faces. Unfortunately, in the footsteps of Samantha, Britney has decided to step down from her position as a Four-nication expert. She doesn’t want to share her past experiences with G. on a weekly basis because she feels as though it would be too hard to be honest. It is still unclear if we are going to recruit another expert. T.J.’S “VIRGIN HOLE” STORY On a lighter note, T.J. Cox lived up to his porn-star like name in a spring break hotspot. While he hooked up with girls from Midwestern schools on a nightly basis, he had an interesting time with one girl who he describes as, “a good dancer and rather attractive — a lot more attractive than most girls at Cornell.” On their second night hooking up, apparently after they had had sex, his hotelroom-mate walked in. In response, T.J.’s girl jumped up and retreated to the bathroom where she put in a tampon. T.J. said that he wasn’t upset with this “previously undisclosed visitor [her period],” but rather the fact that it was her last spare tampon. “Feeling stupid about her mistake,” he said, “she proceeded to please me orally … and then anally … simultaneously! As she tapped my virgin hole with one, and then two, of her fingers, all I could think was, ‘Hey, this is spring break, try something new.'” And maybe what T.J. needed, even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, was a good poke in the …Archived article by