Despite the fact that museum media and communications specialist, school board trustee and overtime dad Rajiv Rawat says “cultural phenomenon is much better appreciated through deep critical engagement rather than “fan boy” obsessions,” the recovering academic is, nonetheless, willing to comment on the issue of race and culture in the storyline of the popular TV series Game of Thrones where fantasy mirrors reality.
Thousands of people around the world hang on to her every word whether she is talking to them from the back seat of a cab or from the hair salon chair; jumping off rocks into a river in Portland, Jamaica or hanging out in an airplane cockpit at the airport just before take-off – everything she does is up-close-and-personal – and a valuable service to women around the world.
Hate-fuelled sentiments toward Women and Gender Studies and Sociology students at the University of Toronto (U of T) drew swift reaction from the university on Tuesday. A statement in the comment section of a Toronto Sun article about recent lethal threats to students said: “the only good feminist is a dead feminist.” The university called the comments “deeply distressing and deplorable” and asked that all threats be brought to the attention of the police.
#TheGIRLisBACK – Genius hacker Lisbeth Salander lives on as The Girl in the Spider’s Web even though the author who wrote the Millennium series has been dead for 11 years.
What do you do when you’re alone, without communication devices, in an unfamiliar city in the middle of a festival with a million revellers from seven continents? Well, a New Yorker would go back to the car and wait patiently until her friends came to the same conclusion.
by Richard Crouse – Toronto, Ontario, Canada
A few years ago I hosted some events at Fan Expo in Toronto. In between shows I sat in the greenroom, usually with my face buried in a newspaper or a book. One afternoon as I sat reading I felt someone come sit at the table with me. They didn’t say anything and I didn’t look up. It was so crazy busy on the floor; everyone was enjoying the relative tranquility of the greenroom and staying to themselves.
The Core Magazine Beer Pong Champion is hell-bent on leaving the basement this Halloween, so you better hold on tight to your Skittles.
I see a photograph of myself. In it I was on the bus travelling north to Tehran. We were going to visit friends, but that is not so important to the story. I was sitting alone because he was not talking to me. We were driving through the flat, dry landscape of my dreams, like the movies. I was wearing a maghnae, like a schoolgirl would wear, or a nun’s wimple. It’s tight around my face, but easier than wrestling with a headscarf that slides off my hair too easily. This particular day there was a stray hair sticking out, under my chin. I remember trying to locate it, unsuccessfully. It was troubling me. In the photograph I can see it, under my chin. That little hair sticking out reminds me of how I felt that day. Resigned. As much as I may have tried to tame the stray bits, one always found its way out of its cover.