The intelligent inhabitants of
the exoplanet Kepler-1084B —
the only non-human intelligent
beings in the universe, as they
suspect — turn on their radio
receivers and listen in on the
signals originating from Earth,
193 lightyears away. For centuries,
they have been searching for
signs of life beyond their home
planet. They want to believe that
they aren’t alone in the universe.
Their arduous, fruitless search for
interplanetary life has not only
crushed that hope but has also
led them to question their own
existence. Is their civilization
capable of surviving for eons or
is it only an ephemeral blip in the
timeline of the universe?
By chance, they tune into the
frequency for the signal from
the inter-arena communication
network
for
Crisler
Arena,
unintentionally
transmitted
deep into space from the edge of
a mitten-shaped peninsula on
the distant pale blue dot. They
demodulate the radio wave and
hear a brief pulse: 277.18 Hertz,
the D sharp above middle C in
human terminology. They hear
the noise again. And again. The
pulse repeats 104 times. The
aliens
frantically
attempt
to
decipher the signal’s meaning.
But mere seconds after the pulses
begin to change pitch, they hear
something
horrifying:
radio
silence.
Timeout in Ann Arbor — the
Wolverines’ last one remaining.
The coaches, with their March
Madness hopes on the line
following a string of disappointing
losses, pull out their whiteboards
and draw up a play that will seal
victory for the University of
Michigan. Conventionally, this
is how timeouts operate: The
players get a chance to breathe
and plan their next play while
the fans watching on television
at home are subjected to a couple
of minutes of advertisements.
In two minutes, a basketball
game becomes more watchable
by giving its players a breather
and demonstrating its economic
viability
as
a
monolithic
institution of American culture,
courtesy of Burger King or State
Farm or The Home Depot.
Timeout conventions are less
defined for the thousands of fans
inside the arena. In the absence
of convention, tradition emerges:
in-arena
entertainment.
This
is meant to be a pastime, not a
memorable focus of the game.
Most basketball game attendees
remember
the
key
moments
of the game but can’t vividly
recall listening to “Heads Will
Roll – A-Trak Remix” while the
referees decide where to spot an
out-of-bounds pass from a clumsy
point guard intended for an
inconsistent three-point shooter.
This is how it is supposed to be.
This is not how it is supposed
to be.
The aliens desperately scan
as many frequencies as they
can but fail to find any further
transmissions from intelligent
life forms. Unbeknownst to them,
their alien numbering system
is highly incompatible with the
humans’ systems of mathematics.
This adds an insurmountable
layer of difficulty to detecting
radio frequencies besides the
one they discovered by chance.
The aliens, unable to pick up new
signals, grapple with the notion
that the silent inhabitants of
Earth have met the worst fate.
The aliens are determined to
prove the continuance of life on
the distant planet. They resort
to spectroscopy to examine the
chemical vital signs of civilization
on
Earth.
Their
concern
immediately
intensifies.
They
detect extremely high amounts
of heat-insulating carbon gases
and trace amounts of heavy
radioactive metals in Earth’s
atmosphere. Any hope they had
for Earth’s inhabitants sharply
reduces; any hope they had for the
long-term viability of intelligent
lifeforms on the planet vanishes
completely.
The aliens lament humans’
doomed existence.
The irritating sound of the
distinctive guitar riff from “Mr.
Brightside” fills Crisler Arena.
Many
humans
lament
their
doomed existence.
The ‘Brightside’
Transmission and the
collapse of humanity
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
4 — Wednesday, April 12, 2023
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
puzzle by sudokusnydictation.com
The Michigan Daily Crossword Puzzle
Sunday, April 9, 2023 - Puzzle by Madison Hammond
ACROSS
1. Shower bar
5. Restful resorts
9. Loses color
14. Bad to the bone
15. Wrestler Hogan
16. Holmes played by Millie Bobby
Brown
17. Process of deciding something
again and again
20. Straight from the garden, as an
ingredient
21. Not on time
22. Bed-and-breakfasts
23. Mexican Mrs.
25. Rowboat pair
27. Bell vegetable with green and
red counterparts
33. Dribble catcher?
36. It's a long story?
37. ___ Gras
38. Other, in Madrid
40. Fishing tool, for some
43. Pay attention to
44. Horses' straps
46. Smoothie berry
48. "Live ___" (Taco Bell slogan)
49. DC comic book hero with a
magic ring
53. Thick slice
54. ___ Paulo
55. Italian wine region
58. Salary
61. Chipotle alternative
65. What might happen if you
ignore the starts of 17-, 27- and
49- Across?
68. Take ____ in the right direction
69. Campus study spot home to
Bert's Café, familiarly
70. Mathematician Turing
71. You might throw this at an
enemy
72. Small storage building
73. Supermodel Banks
DOWN
1. Feudal worker
2. Walkie-talkie sign-off
3. Assistant
4. ___ v. Ferguson (1896 Supreme
Court ruling)
5. ___/her/hers
6. Knitting stitch
7. ____ mater
8. Chairlift alternative
9. Veggie found in a pod
10. Like some email filters
11. Pork cut
12. Musk of SpaceX and Twitter
13. Without
18. Number of little pigs
19. Kind of tide
24. Swiss peaks
26. Makeup brand by Ariana Grande
28. Gloss target
29. Atlantic or Pacific
30. Youngest Everdeen, in "The
Hunger Games"
31. Mode, of "The Incredibles"
32. Clears (of)
33. Darty essential comprising a gallon
of MiO, vodka, and water
34. Old Roman road
35. Actress Larson of "Captain Marvel"
39. Like some unfair arguments
41. Make a scene?
42. Actresses Issa and Charlotte
45. NBC sketch show since 1975
47. Baghdad resident
50. Suburban homeowner's pride
51. Beaded calculator
52. Acknowledges silently
55. Solvers' cries
56. Get-together, informally
57. "Toodles!"
59. Vincent van ___
60. ___ Woods of "Legally Blonde"
62. Greasy
63. Wild hog
64. Delvey who conned her way into
the NYC elite
66. Midwestern slang word
67. Pot top
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73
Read the constructor notes
SUDOKU
WHISPER
“What is the
absolute worst
question in the
world? The one you
don’t ask ~~~ Kevin,
my neighbor”
“Don’t let
yesterday use
up too much of
today.
~~Will Rogers”
WHISPER
JACK MOESER
Senior Arts Editor
the (un)convention(al) b-side
akdjhfkjahgkhg. (Am I the only
one who pronounces keyboard
spam differently depending on
which letters it uses most? This
would sound different if it had
lots of Es and Hs.) The intro
should be unconventional too,
shouldn’t it? How do I do that?
I was told, “Just don’t write an
intro. That’s unconventional.”
But that’s giving “this is daring”
energy./ First of all: This may be
my one opportunity to publish
brackets. We should be allowed
to use them more. In the name of
unconventionality: [ ] / um. / Why
did I decide to do this? / We are
Arts writers. Art cannot escape
convention. Every film, book,
song and designer coat collection
is built on the dictations of those
before it. Even works that break
conventions can only do so
because those conventions exist.
/ … But also. / We cannot escape
convention. It surrounds us. We
form society and smaller cultural
sects that, while created by and
malleable to individuals, turn
back to instruct and categorize
us. We follow conventions to
avoid conflict, because we don’t
know how to exist outside of
them, or because they are so
inherent to our daily lives that
they have become invisible. /
I asked these writers to find
conventions and point them out.
Or to tell me about the times
they broke conventions. Or tried
to. Or thought we should get
rid of a convention — even if it’s
harmless, convention gets old. /
And there’s one more part. My
favorite part. / Language. / As
writers, we are constrained to
its conventions. These writers
have taken language and moved
it to other formats, molded it into
fiction, paired different writing
styles in a single piece, pulled it
through their personal stories,
used it to invite discourse from
YOU, the reader, or looked a
language convention in the eye.
/ Right, so here we examine and
question the conventions of art,
culture and language. / That’s it
from me. Enjoy.
Design by Phoebe Unwin
ERIN EVANS
Senior Arts Editor
I sing when I talk
Cecilia estaba en búsqueda de
una comunidad que la aceptara.
“Cecilia was searching for a
community that would accept
her.”
The Puerto Rican lexicon is one
many don’t take seriously. Cecilia
knew this. She knew it because
of the soul-shattering, side-eyed
looks she got from strangers
when traveling with her family,
whenever they spoke Spanish in
public.
“Mamá, ¿podemos ir al baño?”
Ceci would ask as a kid.
“Hija, habla en inglés,” her
father would interject. Ceci’s
father always made sure to make
others comfortable, even if that
meant sacrificing their cultural
reality.
This public disapproval is all
because they talk too fast. All
because they abbreviate words.
All because they don’t follow
language conventions. Despite
this, Ceci was comforted to know
that once she went off to college,
she would find her people, other
Spanish speakers, who would
respect her native tongue and the
way she chose to speak it.
She knew that a lot of people
moved far from home for college.
Ann Arbor was 2,111 miles from
Puerto Rico, Ceci’s home. She
believed that Ann Arbor would
open doors to people who would
provide her with a sense of
community, a sense of belonging.
¡And this was true! Ceci met
Spanish speakers from all around
South and Central America and
from the Caribbean region as well.
Once, Ceci was walking across
campus with a friend from home,
and two girls they’d never seen
before approached them.
“¿Hablan español?” asked a tall
girl with piercing blue eyes.
“¡Sí!” Ceci and her friend
responded.
“¿De dónde son?” another girl
with deep, brown eyes and long
brown hair asked.
“Somos de Puerto Rico,” Ceci
explained.
“Va, ¡qué emoción! Yo soy de
Guatemala,” the blue-eyed girl
replied.
“Y
yo,
de
la
República
Dominicana,” the girl with the
long brown hair said.
But
despite
these
genuine
connections, the verdict remained.
Los boricuas hablan español
malo. “Puerto Ricans speak bad
Spanish.”
Ceci didn’t get it. She felt
betrayed.
How
come
she’d
traveled 2,111 miles from home,
secure in the fact that she would
finally
find
community,
just
for this dreamy bubble of hers
to burst? She thought that her
Spanish-speaking
counterparts
would find her español triau’ cool.
A representation of Puerto Rican
culture. An intriguing semblance
to
the
language
they
spoke
themselves. But as she once again
walked through campus with
a friend from home a few days
later, another Spanish speaker
approached them.
“¿Hablan español?” a short guy
with a wide smile and bright green
eyes asked them as he passed them
by and overheard them talking.
“¡Sí!” Ceci and her friend
responded.
“¿De dónde son?” he asked.
“Somos de Puerto Rico,” Ceci
explained.
“Perdona, no te entendí. Hablas
muy rápido. ¿Puedes repetir?” the
green-eyed boy inquired again.
“Somos de Puerto Rico,” Ceci’s
friend replied this time.
“¿De Puerto Rico? Ya, pues,
bueno conocerlas.” the guy said.
He hadn’t bothered to tell them
where he was from. He didn’t
understand what they said at first,
and once he correctly heard they
were from Puerto Rico, it was like
a code-red warning sign had lit up
in his head, yelling at him to flee.
After this shocking interaction,
Ceci asked other Spanish speakers
repeatedly “¿what about us throws
you off?” This happened in class,
walking
around
campus,
at
parties. They always responded
the same way.
“You guys are so many. It’s
overwhelming. You exclude us.”
This Ceci understood. In the
same way Ceci felt alienated by
strangers whenever she spoke
Spanish in public when she
traveled to faraway places with
her family, they probably yearned
for more familiarity with their
home country than what was
available to them in Ann Arbor.
She had this in the strong, 40-ish
Puerto Ricans that also went to
school there.
She couldn’t help but feel like
this aversion to hanging out
with Puerto Ricans was coming
from somewhere else, though.
Somewhere
largely
associated
with the way Puerto Ricans
apparently
“butchered”
the
Spanish language.
No one told them they spoke
“bad Spanish” to their face. Ceci
didn’t think they had the heart for
that. But it was evident from the
way they asked why Bad Bunny
“mispronounced” words in his
songs and how they always asked
for them to repeat themselves
when they spoke. There was
something about the Puerto Rican
way of speaking Spanish that put
them off.
Yo vivo en la sombra de los que
me colonizan. “I live in the shadow
of those that colonize me.”
Ceci, like many Puerto Ricans,
took great pride in her native
language. That pride is funny,
though — well, more ironic than
funny — because the language
that they adore comes from the
long and intense colonial history
of their island. The language that
they claim as theirs was forcefully
imposed upon them.
Ceci’s
native
language
is
Spanish, but that was brought
upon her ancestors by Spanish
colonizers. She was then forced
to learn English in school because
of Puerto Rico’s colonial status.
GRACIELA BATLLE CESTERO
Daily Arts Writer
Read more at MichiganDaily.com