Bucharest is, to use the well-trod witticism, a land of contradictions. The slow decay of its fabulous French-style mansions is apparent, as are the worn away bits of ornate metal gates. There is also the ubiquitous feeling of a country recovering from the heady days of Communism, and its overthrow 20 years ago, like so many countries of the Eastern European bloc.

The elaborate old buildings sit alongside unsightly housing blocs, and other modern buildings, sometimes draped in regalia of the country’s democratic party, whose symbol is two crossed hammers, akin to the sickle and axe of Communist regalia. Although now, the Communist has a negative ring, even 2 decades after the execution of the flamboyant leader Nicolae Ceausescu, who pilfered the country of billions of euro to build a massive 20-story palace termed the “People’s Palace”.

Gypsy children flit into decaying mansions built in the French style, in the heart of the city’s center. It is the land of the Roma. Predictably, hated by the rest of the population, they are a benign bunch, quietly living in unexpected corners of downtown, doing odd-jobs such as digging holes, and sweeping up park leaves at midnight. Or sitting outside of churches, begging for money.

The Onion Domes of churches, the charmingly sagging and sometimes broken power lines, even in the most affluent of neighborhoods and the monotone of ethnicity, make you realize, ‘We are not in Western Europe anymore’. If that doesn’t jolt you to this realization, then the sight of street children digging food from garbage cans, or their chain-smoking seven-year-old friends will. By now, Bucharest either seems terribly backwards, or that I am patronizing it. But to understand this city I had to leave behind all of my cultural and ethical expectations, and to accept it for what it was. The Romanians whom I befriended, all of them friendly, certainly did. They soberly told me all of their country’s problems, but did so without resignation, nor a zeal for correction. Like Romans are wont to say ‘This is Rome’, I had to remember that this is Romania.

Bucharest is one of the most beautiful cities that I have seen, and rightfully deserves the name ‘Little Paris’. Unaccustomed to tourists, it is not a very cushy place, but knowing a little Italian, French or sometimes English helps enormously. A ramble down the side streets in the heart of the city, recalls the quiet elegance of old Europe, especially after the thick night fog sets in. The old houses boast triangular domed roofs, separate attic peepholes, personalized iron-wrought gates. No two houses are the same- each has its own particular motif and colors.

The exchange rate was of the dollar to the national currency Leu- is ~3:1. Nothing beats seeing the Opera for $2.25, and splurging on elaborate dinners that would cost north of $65 back in the states, but in Bucharest come out to about $20, as well as the ridiculously loud and drunk patrons at a nearby table- who got up to sing a round with the live band- at one of the nicest restaurants in the city! Now that I’m back in Western Europe, I already miss the idiosyncrasies of Little Paris.

At the University of Chicago, we have the tendency to be wrapped up in the past. Many of the texts we read are to give us a solid foundation built upon ‘The Canon.’ Life does, however, progress, and I believe that it important to understand the modern world. We tend to overlook modernity’s effects on areas, specifically the arts. When we think of the effects of technology, we always consider the socio-economic effects; yet, we fail to notice the ripples within litero-poetic communities. There are currently several influencing figures that are bridging the supposed gap between technology and poetry. Two such figures are Chicago’s own Judd Morrissey and Mark Jeffery (for bios, see below).

Recently, both of them came to my poetry class to talk about themselves, their new project, and answer some of our questions.

Judd started out by talking about his early works, his first being “The Jew’s Daughter”—one of the canonical works of e-literature. The hypertext embedded in the piece creates a sense of liquidity in the reading. It is here that the idea of a “very fluid and circular reading,” seen in later works, begins. This type of new connectivity is prevalent within the works of many electronic writers because it is a never-before-seen facet of the electronic medium.

“My Name is Captain, Captain” was one of Morrissey’s next major published pieces. However, if you try to find it online or in the library, you will run into some difficulty. Why? Simply because it was published on CD. Technology advances at a rapid pace, and everyone must try and rush to keep up with it. When CDs first came about, they were perfect for carrying large quantities of data which made them seem to be a viable medium. Now-a-days, CDs are seen as outdated and difficult to manage, especially with P2P sharing and the ease with which personal websites can be created. The effect of outdated electronics on e-lit is indicative of technology’s force in general. Also, the poetry cannot be reproduced in website form due to a legal contract. This should serve as a warning to all artists to check the sustainability of the medium and the control of reproduction.

Mark Jeffery and Judd Morrissey: Rehearsal of The Precession

While these two themes of fluidity and new technology prevail over e-poetry, they do not give a real sense of what the term means. The first part of the term “e” seems simple; it refers to ‘e’lectronic, meaning that the work must actively involve technology, usually computers, in some form or fashion. The electronic component can be anything from hypertexts and links to video and sound editing to e-distribution i.e. blogs, RSS feeds, etc. This range lends itself also to the poetic side of things. With the new electronic medium, poetry comes off of the page and, even, leaves the realm of text at times. In fact, the mobility allowed by technology fuels many artists to new and unknown realms and media, whether in the form of a website, a video, a performance, or a textual piece.

This fusion of bytes with letters is something that everyone should watch since it heralds the new age of poetics. While it is important to read Ovid, Byron, Frost, and other canonical poets, a fresh canon is being created right now, right here. The future of poetry is being written at this moment and we should pay attention. Soon, the three words of Judd Morrissey will be highlighted in modern arts and poetics-“Choreography, context, and chorus.”

Welcome to an age of “less writing and more parsing.”

Judd Morrissey calls himself a “code artist” and fuses the electronic/technological with the poetic and performance. He did not start as a poet and, in fact, had never really done a serious writing workshop before college. It was late in college when one of his thesis review professors, the esteemed poet Robert Kelly, pointed him to the MFA at Brown where he was introduced to hypertext programming and literature, such as the program Story Space and the piece “Patchwork Girl” by Shelley Jackson. He went on to release “The Jew’s Daughter,” “My Name is Captain Captain,” and “The Last Performance.” Currently, he is working with Mark Jeffrey on a project called “The Precession (Living Newspapers Version” which will be happening June 1st through June 25th at the MCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) and teaches at the SAIC (School of the Art Institute of Chicago).

We can capture the state of United States education system with this classic Dickens quote. Cities are posting staggering dropout rates while there is an upward trend of over-accomplished, over-booked kids.

Shouts ring across America – in successive waves — that our school system is falling to shambles. Detroit tops the list, graduating less than 25% of high school students. While these national statistics are also categorized by individual cities they are still blanket numbers. The national dropout rate is 16% and most of these students are predominantly Black or Latino.

What’s going on here? Why are most of the failing students minority students?

All these statistics fail to take into account the factors that lead to such high dropout rates in individual schools. Many high schools in urban areas remain racially segregated, and this segregation is accompanied by an unequal distribution on resources. Having worked in Chicago Public Schools (CPS) for the past 3 years it has become obvious (to me) that something very essential is missing in CPS’ and urban schools across the country: mentorship.

Mentorship helps remedy the many wrongs of our school system, and also the lack of support children receive from home.

Many children in CPS’ — and inner city schools across the country — desperately lack guidance and support at home that is vital for academic success. Imagine growing up in an environment where you know several people who have died from violence. Perhaps an uncle, a neighbor, maybe even a close friend (or several). Imagine never knowing anything outside of neighborhood blocks stratified by violence . Picture the children who have to pass block upon block where these people were killed, merely to get to school. Would you want to go? Then, imagine getting to school and being too tired to participate —too tired from staying up too late— because you don’t have a curfews, and your classroom is in chaos because the teacher cannot control a room of forty rowdy kids.

The importance of garnering good grades has not hit you. Why does it matter anyway? Everyone you’ve ever known as stayed in the neighborhood.

This doesn’t mean that some kids do not strive to succeed. Some graduate from college. But if the imperative to excel in school is lacking in a home and school environment then children are set up to fail. It is a Dystopia.

“Everybody is mad at each other. The high school teachers are mad at the grammar school teachers because the kids don’t know the difference between that and which.”

The high school children that I work with have experienced unimaginable trauma. The school was riddled by high pregnancy rates of about 36%. Many of those girls never returned, and in the last couple months before their due dates, little was expected from them. Would you prefer a student to complete her trigonometry homework or learn to care for her baby?

But there are programs gaining traction, helping to reverse these problems. One mentorship program, Gear Up, has lead to an increase in high school graduation rates. Most of the kids just need someone to relate to. Many of them expect to be talked down to, but are surprisingly receptive and entertaining. These kids quickly establish bonds with their mentor, and the effects that the mentorship has quickly shows in the easygoing and comfortable nature in which they begin to interact with you.

Another problem plaguing the education system is misdirected blame. There is a wholesale focus on the need for better teachers. John McCain’s comments during the presidential elections “to get the rotten teachers out of the classroom” added fuel to this misdirected fire. Teachers are pushed by administrators to “get kids out” by passing them— even if they do not meet the standards— so that the school does not produce failing kids.

So how do we fix this mountain of problems? Bill Ayers, also known as the “Weather Underground Terrorist”, is a seasoned and knowledgeable teacher in the Chicago Public School system. He recently gave a talk in which he said there needs to horizontal instead of vertical communication in schools. In other words, teachers of all grades need to communicate with each other about what children are learning from year to year instead of the instruction solely coming from principals.

“Everybody is mad at each other,” says Ayers. “The high school teachers are mad at the grammar school teachers because the kids don’t know the difference between that and which.”

Schools also need to be disengaged from the static rules that prevent gains in learning.

Ayers recounted a time in which he tried to bring bananas to the classroom— “because the kids were just eating pizza and other junk for lunch, and they are more alert after eating fruits and other healthy foods”— he was halted at the cafeteria exit. It is a federal offense to remove food from a cafeteria.
“They were just going be tossed at the end of the day, but if I removed them, I would be arrested.”

In addition to seeming misdemeanor of removing cafeteria food, there is a set curriculum, which teachers must follow. Blanket curriculums do not work and, ultimately, do a disservice to students. Students across the country arrive to school with different levels of preparation and support. It creates an uneven playing field for students who have had an academic and social support network their entire lives and those who have not.

The Obama administration has sought to reverse these negative trends plaguing schools by instituting promise neighborhoods across the country. Twelve neighborhoods will be selected through an application process and they will receive $20 million dollars (although they must match that sum through fundraising). The money will be used to provide academic and emotional support, shadowing children in the neighborhood from a young age to their high school graduation.

However, these plans must lay out how exactly this mentorship will take place, in order to be effective. They also must be replicable in other neighborhoods. A similar plan in Harlem, NY called Harlem’s Children Zone, founded in the 1990’s has garnered immense success.

If these promise neighborhoods are successful, they would be a boon to neighborhoods across the country. But even without them we must collectively work to aid the children who have been born into situations out of their control, to realize our collective futures.

“No, it’s not that bad. I just make it a point to go to the library every day. The Reg’s the most social place on campus!”

In high school, the library was a place of uncomfortable fidgeting and pin drop silence; a place of infrequent, short-lived visits. Just how any library could serve to be more than that, and become a part of a lifestyle, seemed to be an alien concept. Therefore, a group of friends and I decided to dissect the culture of the Regenstein, and we noticed right away that it was a world within a world. Some common patterns (listed below as common occurrences) became obvious from very early on, and although we have many examples of each, we have listed just one with every pattern, to keep our observations short and succinct.

Subject of Inquiry: The ‘Reg Culture’

Parameters of Observation: 1100 East 57th Street Chicago Illinois 60637. B-level to the fifth floor of the imposing, gray structure known lovingly as the Regenstein library.

Some Noted Colloquialisms:
“Reggin’ it”
Translation: Studying at the Reg, for an extended period of time.

“Secret Garden ”
Translation: Referring to the couches positioned behind the ground floor bookstacks, often obscured from common view.

“Jock floor”: Second floor of the Reg, scattered with group tables. It is considered louder and more social than most of the other floors (with the exception of the A-level).

“Caffiee” A mixture of the words ‘coffee’ and ‘caffiee’. Mostly uttered by sleep deprived students, dragging themselves to Bart Mart, or Ex-Libris.

Common Occurrences:

1. Domestic Disputes:
Observed: A college couple peacefully studying on the fifth floor. Suddenly, bickering ensues and the girl is seen snatching the papers from her partner’s hands and flinging them into the air. He, in turn, starts violently shaking her. Other students around come to life and intervene. Boy and girl collect things, walk out (together) while the fifth floor looks on, cell phones in hand.

2. Student-Staff Squabbles
Observed: Student attempts to walk in to the study space of the Reg with banana in hand. Member of the staff angrily tells her she cannot enter with a piece of fruit (although students are often seen devouring pizza and other edibles). Loud argument interrupts the ground floor studying and goes on for a good ten minutes. Finally, student heatedly throws banana into the trash bin and storms out.

3. Morning After (all-nighter) Rituals:
Observed: Girl with two large duffel bags positions herself in front of the mirror in the A-level bathroom. Takes out many, many bottles of product, and slowly goes on to wash hair in the sink, brush teeth, apply makeup – all the while remaining oblivious to the growing knot of people whispering around her.

4.Finals Week Retreat
Observed: As soon as the week begins, a tent is put up in the A-level. Inhabitants are seen taking sporadic naps within, whenever their schedule permits. Other students are seen camping at the A-level in different ways. Some sleep under the tables, while others on top of the tables. There is a mass exodus on Friday of that week, and the Reg is at once reminiscent of a forgotten graveyard.

Note to Diskord readers: Send us any new colloquialisms you note, or any recurring patterns you observe! The Reg culture, like all others, is also an evolving one, and we would like to keep out studies updated.

These pictures were taken in April in Indiana on the polluted grounds of an Exxon Valdez plant. Life had a miraculous reemergence, growing atop slag- a mixture of steel and sand- stone. It is hard as bedrock, roots cannot penetrate beneath it. The slag has been there since the turn of 18th century, so everything below it is long dead.

Try this as a little experiment: turn on the TV or a major news website. What do you see? Chances are, you are witnessing Kate Gosselin cry on TV, Tiger Woods return to golf, or the latest reality TV show that wants to turn YOU into a star. Usually, you don’t follow such programming (I know I don’t). But now that you’re sitting in front of the TV, you ask yourself, what do all of these things have in common?

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the inability of the middle-class American to keep up with their own dreams of financial stability in the midst of skyrocketing inflation, wage stagnation and a new apex of social inequality and wealth distribution. These words aren’t mine—they’re iterated and proved by economists and analysts much more qualified than I. But more poignantly, in the ashes of the mortgage boom, and in today’s weak economy, the American Dream has changed. Arguably, the sublime mediocrity we were seeking in the middle of the last century—the home in the suburbs, the white picket fence, the housewife greeting her working husband with an apron and a tray of frosted cupcakes as he walks in after an hard day’s work—has been glossed and whitewashed over by much shinier ideas. And some of those ideas involve lights, cameras, and action.

For a case in point, I give you the most popular television show on TV for the better part of the decade, American Idol. With ratings easily in the Top 3 since its debut (see Nielson TV ratings for exact quotes), and given how much TV the average American watches (up to 8 hours a day, also according to Nielson), there’s no question that mainstream TV can give us some leads on the pulse of the American psyche. One day, as I myself contributed to this statistic by watching an old episode of auditions online, there was something one (somewhat desperate) contestant said in front of the judges that really grabbed me. He seemed nervous and ill at ease, and when asked why he was so nervous, he said something along the lines of, “Well, look at this. All these lights and people. And here I am in front of you, in the Kodak Theatre. This is the American Dream!” One judge agreed (who happened to be Ellen DeGeneres). “It absolutely is,” she said.

And he wasn’t the only one. I can’t tell you how many others auditioning said they were doing this “for their family”, or “to give their children a better life”. One heart-wrenching story, from a father of an autistic child who was auditioning, had the hope that, maybe if he went far on the show, he could finally afford the proper medical care for his son. The point is these weren’t just musicians or thrill-seekerswaiting for their big break. They were pastors and oil-rig workers. They were ordinary Americans, and some of them were out of ideas.

Perhaps there was a time when fame and fortune were sought by those trapped in small towns, or dreadful jobs like Marilyn Monroe at the factory assembly line. But in our age of live fast and die hard, something tells me that time is over.

Call me old-fashioned and naive, but I thought the American Dream was about one thing, first and foremost—work. Just unglamorous, unadulterated work, and the idea that you proved yourself through it.

“I can’t believe this is happening! It’s real!” Idol contestants would say, over and over again. It may be happening, for a short while, but as most of these people are bound to find out, it is far from real. How did we get here? How did the get-rich or die-tryin’ mentality come to represent the American Dream? While there are no easy answers, the TV will always give us some clues. And some of those clues tell us that we’re starting to mortgage too much of what we’ve built for a few minutes under the blinding lights of second-rate stardom. And when those lights do go off, we come to realize that the theatre we stand in—the one where we’ve attempted to pursue our narcissistic desires—has been empty all along. Maybe, I think, it’s time we start on a journey that is about more than just ourselves.

Many students at the University of Chicago will never leave academia. We recognize that one day, we may be sitting in our TA’s chair and (if we’re lucky) standing behind our professor’s podium. However, to get there, we need to publish… and publish… and publish. The question becomes, publish what exactly?

The “major” questions have been written about extensively, but more obscure research questions have the danger of being irrelevant. So one has to choose, either follow the well beaten path and risk repetition, or go out on a limb and risk triviality. I reference mainly the humanities, but the fundamental issue applies to all academic fields. Topics which are considered important seem stale. But by avoiding those topics, they may never be resolved.

I recently encountered a perfect example of this conundrum at a Shakespeare Conference in downtown Chicago. At the beginning of April, Shakespeare scholars from around the globe gathered in our Windy City for three days of presentations, workshops, and seminars. University of Chicago Shakespearean legends, David Bevington and Richard Strier, were in attendance. And, by the good graces of the lovely ladies of the Shakespeare Association of America, I too was able to indulge my passion for the Bard, despite my lowly undergraduate status. While wandering the halls of the Hyatt, overhearing conversations in the ladies room, and watching weary PhD candidates struggle to look engaged by the speakers, I found myself intrigued by the people around me. There seemed to be a divide between the current generation of established scholars and their protégés. As the day wore on, I grew increasingly confident that such a divide existed. Finally, when I sat in on a seminar on the sonnets, an intergenerational interaction flared up and highlighted the underlying difference between the established members of the field and those who were still working to join them.

The seminar consisted of eleven academics, aspiring to advance their status in the field of Shakespeare scholarship, who responded to a simple prompt: “Shakespeare’s Sonnets in Context.” Their papers varied greatly in topic, from an examination of the notion of justice, to a discussion of how to teach sonnets in the modern high school classroom. Some papers were focused on form, such as one that examined the role of the couplet. Others took more content driven routes, including one that discussed imagery that combined imagination and physiology. Altogether, it was a whirlpool of scholarship steeping in Latinate words, and I was drowning in it.

Now, I have read all the sonnets. I have even read literary criticism on all of the sonnets. And yet, I was feeling sheepishly lost until the discussion was opened to the entire room and an elegant and assertive silver-haired lady softly posed the question: “Why did none of you choose to broach the historicity of the sonnets?”

Of course, context need not be historical context, but I wondered the same thing. Why had none of them chosen to write on the traditional questions of context? The central mystery of the sonnets revolves around the identity of the Young Man. Was he real or merely a fictional subject? Were the sonnets an honest expression of love (or at least obsession) by our favorite poet or merely another demonstration of his creative genius? When one considers the sonnets and context, historicity is the burning question.

However, not a single seminar participant chose to broach it. And a member of the older generation wanted to know why not. Did they consider the question answered? No, they did not believe the field had come to a consensus. Did they not find the question interesting? No, they denied that as well. Of course the Young Man’s identity was of interest. What was it then?

Slowly, as they responded with their gingerly phrased answers, I gathered that it came down to a desire to distinguish themselves. While they recognized that the question of historicity was important, they felt that the conversation had already happened.

They felt pressured to contribute something “new” to the field and in their eyes new meant different. It is easier to contribute something “new” if you skip over the questions that scholars have spent generations teasing out. Why bother asking the obvious?

At this, I bristled; the silver-haired lady did as well. The question of historicity and the Young Man’s identity is important. It is unavoidable in any study of the sonnet sequence. Just because the question has been asked before does not mean it should not be asked again and again until it is answered. Is that not the purpose of academia? To have each generation of scholars approach the same questions until we can approximate answers to the unanswerable?

Of course, generating new questions is important as well. But I object to the trend of carving out a piece of academic real estate so obscure that no one can challenge it. Sure, no one will contest the findings, but no one will utilize them either. Especially with a thoroughly studied topic such as Shakespeare, if no one has already asked the question, it is likely not worth asking. If no one has answered the question, the greatest contribution one can make is to attempt to answer it.

So I pose this challenge to the aspiring academics here in Hyde Park: try to answer the difficult questions, the questions which have lost their gloss, the questions which have been agonized over by minds more well-stocked and agile than yours. Don’t flee to the frontier, but pitch a tent and battle for the heartland. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.”

A couple of summers ago I had the amazing opportunity to travel to Japan for two weeks of culture, learning, fun, and freedom. What transpired easily exceeded my expectations and opened my mind. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, only that I anticipated the unexpected. I remember filling out my profile—17 years old, 4-year Japanese student, allergic to fish but partial to shellfish, a carefully chosen picture of me attached—and receiving my host sister Chihiro’s profile. I was incredibly excited on the day of travel: I was about to embark on my dream trip—a homestay with a real Japanese family in the quiet countryside. All throughout the year I thought that June couldn’t come fast enough, though when it did, it went by too fast.

During those first few days of the homestay period, when I spoke, I did so almost exclusively when I was spoken to, and with the guidance of imaginary cue cards flashing through my head to ensure I was using the polite forms of the Japanese verbs. I tiptoed around gingerly, so afraid that whatever I did would be offensive. I practically tried to be invisible.

But then, during one of those first nights, I remember sitting down for dinner to a plate of perfectly cooked scallops and smiling internally at the reality that my anxiety had deprived me of: Chihiro and her family were just as nervous as I was, and just as eager to please as I was, as shown by the fact that they had obviously studied my profile and gone through the trouble of making everything perfect down to the smallest detail, including serving my favorite foods. Those were the best scallops I have ever tasted.

I realized that I had mistaken nerves on their part for indifference, shyness for coldness, and that to continue to let that happen would be a waste of our time. I had failed to recognize their kindness, the universality of human feelings, and the fact that, usually, situations aren’t as bad as I perceive them to be.

After that, I didn’t waste any more time. At first, the language barrier was daunting: conversations were halting, shy, hesitant, each girl embarrassed that she couldn’t articulate herself as well as she would have liked (try articulating what “gusto” means in Japanese—needless to say, I didn’t have any luck using hand motions). But we encouraged each other against giving up, and through pantomime, an electronic dictionary, and sheer force of will, we managed to connect very well. I told her my background and interests, she told me about her dreams to study sports therapy in college and that, yes, her grandmother was indeed appalled upon learning that I was allergic to fish. We enjoyed getting to know each other better; I remember showing her my high school yearbook and presenting her with an omiyage (a gift for the host), and her wanting to take puri-kura with me (those candids you take in a photo booth with friends). So the conversations got smoother, and although both of us still suffered from nervousness, I could see that there was no real reason for it. I was touched when she gave me a friendship bracelet, and when I returned to California, I mailed her a letter with a homemade bracelet in return.

At times, Japan was oddly surreal: here I was, physically and mentally miles away from my normal, everyday life. The experience was nothing short of exhilarating and liberating because of the mixture of emotions I underwent. The trip gave me a heightened sense of awareness through a perfectly formulated cocktail of adventure, independence, validation, and self-gratification. I was so proud to be able to interact with people, or even to recognize the words on signs and packaging—what I had learned was relevant and I could see my knowledge “working” before my eyes.

Trying to communicate with the Japanese people—even if I know my host sister must have been merciful and only pretended to understand me at times, bless her—was especially satisfying after seeing the eventual, relieved smile and spark of recognition in my listener’s eyes, knowing then that I had successfully tapped into someone else’s understanding. Even when I got frustrated, I realized that disappointment had no place in this journey and would only spoil the memories of this time for later. I understood that it was all a matter of taking advantage of the moment. Traveling and interacting with people native to places I admire creates a sort of “culture shock” for me that forces me out of my comfort zone so much that I get a singular, sensational, significant experience in return.

Doomsayers may add something new to their list— an Asian Carp Invasion of the Great Lakes.

Successive waves of invasive species are always accompanied by panic and heavy investment trying to stop them. There is infighting among officials, who sometimes cannot agree on how to fix the problem. This holds true for the Great Lakes Region of the Midwestern U.S. and Canada. The Great Lakes ecosystem and economies are currently threatened by Asian Carp.

If these fish establish themselves throughout the Great Lakes, they may dramatically alter the ecosystems and cost a total of $4-6 billion annually in damages.

Invasive species are almost always introduced to an area by accident, and Asian Carp are no exception. No one can ever pinpoint the exact area of introduction or who did it. These accidental introductions wreck havoc and alter the local landscape. Since the animals are foreign, they have no natural predators. Likewise, their prey is not familiar with them as predators. Strain is put on the ecosystem as the invasive species out-competes other animals for the same food source. There several types of Asian Carp, including silver carp, grass carp, black carp and bighead carp.

Asian Carps are considered to be aquatic vacuum cleaners. They eat only zooplankton (plankton that eat phytoplankton—the plants of the water— which create food from sunlight). The facts surrounding Asian Carp have been distorted in many newspapers and sensationalized. They have the ability to eat up to 20% of their body weight, though many newspapers have falsely reported that they routinely eat 40% of their weight. Another way of understanding the damage they can inflict on an ecosystem is their ability to filter out important resources in the ecosystem.

They are very good at finding and eating zooplankton. This ability takes the food away from the zooplankton’s native predators who die. Most of the zooplankton is eaten, and their original predators die. The food web breaks down. The fishermen that rely on the native species for sustenance and sport also suffer. Everybody loses, except the carp. But it is not that simple.

The Asian Carp have been established in the U.S. since the 1970’s though no one is sure how they arrived. They have been steadily making their way up the Mississippi River for years. There are now in several Chicago Rivers including Calumet Harbor, the Illinois and Michigan Shipping Canal, the Des Plaines River and the Chicago Shipping and Sanitary Canal. These rivers all provide direct access to Lake Michigan, although Lake Michigan empties into these rivers. At the mouth of these rivers and their access points to the lake are locks, which could be closed to prevent the carp from entering Lake Michigan. However, there are some holes in the locks, which may be big enough for some fish to enter. The city of Chicago argues that this would not do much to prevent the carp’s entry, it would instead endanger Chicago’s livelihood.

To close the locks would put the welfare of Chicago at risk. The locks help regulate seasonal flooding. If they were closed, much of downtown Chicago would be flooded, dealing a damaging blow to the economy. The floodwaters would also seep into residential houses. In addition, if the locks were closed it would be difficult to respond to emergencies downtown, it would hurt the tourism economy, and disrupt the shipment of goods down the Chicago River. Closing the locks would also create small dead zones in the river where there would be minimal nutrient and water exchange. The water would quickly de-oxygenate and the fish would die.

However, there is then the inevitable fact that the carp are already established in another Great Lake.

Asian carp have been fished from Lake Erie for years. All the Great Lakes are connected by smaller waterways. It follows that the carp would use these waterways to find their way into Lake Michigan. But this is not the end of the line. Lake Erie has low levels of plankton, so the Carp are not out-competing many fish. In addition Lake Erie used to be an environmental hazard. It caught on fire several times in the past, and has been cleaned up. The lake wasn’t abandoned despite its severe environmental degradation and it rebounded. Thus the Asian Carp threat and their potential damage do not spell the end of times for this region. Yet Michigan, surrounded by all the Great Lakes has the most to lose from the carp invasion and is holding Chicago accountable since the carp are poised to spring into Lake Michigan from the city’s territory.

Michigan, several Canadian provinces, and a couple other U.S. states have joined suit against Chicago, holding it accountable for the carp threat to The Great Lakes ecosystem. Chicago maintains that it should not to be held accountable for the carp problem, since they came from further downstream. Mayor Dailey, in a recent article in The Wall Street Journal, said that there needs to be collective action, instead of pinning all of the blame on his city. He maintains that the southern states need to be held accountable and contribute to the cause, since they did not do enough to control the spread of Asian Carp. Yet there is a universal agreement among experts that Southern states would never contribute money to this cause.

In an attempt to prevent the carp from reaching the Lake several electrical barriers have been constructed across the Chicago Shipping and Sanitary Canal (CSSC). The first barrier was completed in 2002, a second in 2004 and the third is to be completed sometime this year. The electric barrier system in the CSSC reduces the risk of Asian carp migrating into the Great Lakes along the most direct pathway, but other pathways do exist and need to be addressed. The Des Plaines River is a potential by-pass to the electric barrier. Closer to the lake, above the CSSC barriers, the Des Plaines can flood and transfer water and fish into the CSSC.

Traces of carp presence have been found in Southern Lake Michigan, a warning sign that Asian carp could have advanced past the electric barrier that has previously prevented their movement north. Since this finding, the voltage of the barriers has been increased, making it a potentially dangerous situation for boaters who cross the CSSC everyday. The barriers are all being operated with federal funding. The Des Plaines River and Illinois & Michigan Canal have tested positive for silver carp presence, though none have been physically collected. Thankfully, none have been detected in the Chicago Shipping and Sanitary Canal, though there is the risk that the carp can get into the CSSC from overland flooding from the other two waterways.

Below: This is scale of how large these fish can grow

Furthermore, the Army corps of engineers are erecting a concrete and chain link barrier between the Illinois & Michigan river and the upper Chicago Shipping and Sanitary Canal to prevent the Asian Carp from escaping into the upper part of the CSSC during the overland flows that occur in the springtime. However, the barrier may not be ready till October of this year. In the meantime, they are controlling the carp population by conducting intensive netting, electro fishing and developing scientific tests which will tell them the exact location and numbers of carp.

Asian Carp can weigh up to 60 pounds and have seriously injured boaters. The fish often jump out of the water and sometimes crash into boaters. If the carp do establish themselves in the Great Lakes, which will take years, a market could and should be cultivated for their meat. Asian immigrants already buy them, but other Americans do not.

Other species have invaded the Great Lakes in the past and are still living in them. Steel head trout invaded Lake Michigan in the 1860’s and have since become an accepted part of the ecosystem. Regardless of what happens, whether the Asian Carp are able to establish themselves in all of the Great Lakes or not, it will be just a matter of time before another species threatens the Great Lakes ecosystem and the magnitude of their effects may even been worse than the damage the Asian carp stand to do.

This was not the first invasion, and it will not be the last.

At the University of Chicago, students have the tendency to stay on the campus grounds, within the safe boundaries of the Quad. In fact, I was the same way during my first quarter here. It is understandable; you are new to the college, let alone the city, and you would rather be comfortable and explore closer surroundings. Well, as your friendly neighborhood journalist, I am going to start reporting on restaurants and venues downtown that are affordable, easy to reach, and enjoyable.

Today’s spotlight falls on a popular venue in Wrigleyville known as The Metro. I know that sounds far away, but it really isn’t. Just take the Red Line to Addison, and once you get off, walk past Wrigley Field and head a block north. It does not really stand out so be careful not to miss it.

At first, The Metro looks sort of small and dirty. Both of these are false assumptions. Up the stairs, The Metro opens up into a wide and shallow room with a big stage, a bar, and a balcony. I actually prefer this set-up, compared to the long and deep variety, because it allows more of the audience to be up close to the performers (when I say “up close,” I mean it). Just last night I got a fist bump from Bobby “Blitz” Ellsworth, lead singer of Overkill. At the end of their set, he even dived off the stage and crowd-surfed the audience. The Overkill show is definitely one I am going to remember, a phrase I have uttered often after leaving The Metro.

It is not the best venue in the world, especially for metal or rock. The main reason is that The Metro is ‘professional’ and looks down on crowd surfing, stage rushing, and stage diving. Also, the sound quality is not the highest quality in Chicago: the House of Blues has a much better sound system. However, this place is not known for its heavy metal shows. For the most part, these guys book alternative and electronic gigs, such as Tim Green, who is making his first Chicago appearance on May 21, and Local H, who will be playing an entire album on May 23.

The one thing I have found in common between all the varied artists that come through is a passionate energy that transmits through the music to the audience and floor. Luckily, shows are reasonably priced; the most I have ever paid for a show is $25. If you do decide to go, make sure to check the age. Some shows are 18+ or 21+ so keep that in mind while planning your outing.
After grooving or rocking or dancing to whatever show you go to see, there are several places to eat nearby from local dives, upper class sit-down locations, and fast food restaurants. Everything one could possibly desire after a concert is at hand. Would I recommend going? Definitely. Am I going to go again? Definitely!

Next time, I will talk about two restaurants near the heart of downtown. Hope you enjoy whatever show you choose to attend. Maybe I’ll see you there.