Tag: 2025 Spring

  • Embrace Your Boredom

    As a child, whenever I was really bored I would complain to my parents, begging to play my video games. My baby sister would give me someone to hang out with later on, but until the age of seven, I didn’t have any siblings, so I’d have to find my own entertainment. My parents, obviously tired, would just say something along the lines of, “Being bored is good for you.” Maybe they said that because they didn’t want to deal with me, but I think there was some kind of wisdom in their words. Boredom is something we despise and try to get away from whenever possible, but it’s an opportunity for discovery: a chance to connect with ourselves and the world in unexpected ways. When you have absolutely nothing to do, your brain does whatever it wants. It’s like a mini machine; it’s always looking for something to do, and if there’s nothing, it’ll make something. We’re always looking for action, although now that’s just scrolling through TikTok or Instagram reels mindlessly instead of finding something to do. Of course, social media is great for finding connections. It connects us with billions of people across the world, but in doing so, it can isolate us more than ever. For the mind that desperately wants to be used, the endless rush of chemicals from those apps is a dangerous trap that can have us end up lost or feeling like we wasted our time. That’s why when we are bored and have nothing to do, we try to stop that feeling no matter the cost. We hate the feeling of boredom because it makes us feel like we’re not doing anything, and our monkey brains hate that. It’s not that we are against wasting time—I’m an expert at that, and I can say that it’s not the same as being bored. Doing nothing is an action, but being bored is when you want to do something but can’t. That’s why we create things and mess around when we are. Think about the last time that you were bored. Maybe it was with your friends, or maybe you were just by yourself, but I bet you didn’t just keep lazing around. When I’m bored with my friends, I always end up trying something different, and maybe even strengthen my friendships. If you look back, basically every great invention was created because people who were bored stumbled into a great discovery. The world is filled with random things to grab your attention. Trends, drama, and jealousy define the world, but we don’t always need to let those things absorb us. Embracing the boredom that comes with life can help us rediscover ourselves and take a break from everything that follows. We constantly pump ourselves full of distractions to keep our focus away from the imperfections in our lives. Our grades, our personal lives, our fears. It’s easy to run away from that, to occupy your mind with the endless but empty satisfaction that we gain from social media; which is too stimulating to look away from, but not important enough to remember. It’s when we’re bored that we are forced to confront ourselves. That’s when we can’t retreat to comfort; when we have to push forward instead of wallowing in our shells. Part of boredom is stepping out of our comfort zones. But what can actually come from being bored? Well, that’s the great thing, it differs from person to person! For some, it may just be a reminder of things they forgot. For others, it can be a time to reflect, think, or just be at peace. Sometimes silence is all we really need. Take the time you’re given to think about anything, what’s for dinner, things you need to do, or even your future! Next time you feel a sense of boredom in your life, don’t immediately whip out your phone to dull the sensation. Embrace it— see what comes out of it, because you may even discover yourself.

  • Deadly Addiction: America’s Dark Obsession

    True crime podcasts have exploded in popularity in recent years, captivating tens of millions of consumers who eagerly indulge in real crime stories. Podcasts like Crime Junkie and My Favorite Murder present these crime tales as entertainment but often blur the line between advocacy and exploitation. The Adnan Syed case, popularized by Serial, is one such tug-of-war. While the podcast sparked widespread debate and public pressure on the legal system, its incomplete storytelling created serious issues with fairness and due process. This points to a deeper issue: true crime media, which frequently poses as a force for justice, also distorts information, sensationalizes victims and their families, and invades legal processes in ways that undermine rather than support justice.

    One of the biggest issues is the lack of accountability for true crime podcasts. While investigative reporters are bound by ethical standards, the majority of podcasters are not, leading to dishonest storytelling with real-world consequences. Crime Junkie, for example, was found to plagiarize from journalists and omit critical facts to create more sensationalized narratives. Up and Vanished also reshaped public perception of Tara Grinstead’s murder case, building speculation that prompted law enforcement to act instead of allowing the investigative process to unfold at its own pace. When podcasters prioritize drama over fact, they destroy reputations, disrupt court cases, and even incriminate innocent people for crimes they didn’t commit. The rise of “armchair detectives” only compounds the problem, as amateur sleuths—often misled by sensationalized reporting—wrongly accuse innocent people, spreading unnecessary fear and interfering with legitimate investigations.

    True crime podcasts also have a disturbing lack of oversight in legal discussions. When Crime Junkie was forced to retract several episodes due to plagiarism, it highlighted the absence of control in the world of podcasting. Unlike popular media outlets, which are governed by editorial and legal standards, there’s little oversight in the podcast realm, allowing false or defamatory information to spread unchecked. Some even delve into live investigations, complicating legal matters. Up and Vanished, for example, directly influenced public perception of the Tara Grinstead case and potentially the course of justice before law enforcement had the chance to act independently. This lack of accountability allows podcasters to distort facts to fit their narratives, rather than seeking the truth.

    Exploitation of victims and their families is perhaps the most troubling issue. Laci Peterson’s relatives, for example, have objected to the way media and podcast coverage of her murder prolonged their agony, turning a personal tragedy into entertainment. Hae Min Lee’s relatives, whose daughter’s murder was the focus of Serial, have also expressed their frustration with how their pain was dissected for public consumption without their consent. Most true crime podcasts profit from these stories without interviewing or compensating the victim’s families, turning real suffering into a listener’s entertainment commodity. Sword and Scale, for instance, has faced extensive criticism for sensationalizing grisly crime details with no regard for the emotional toll on the victims. This commodification of crime dehumanizes victims, transforming tragedy into entertainment.

    It is argued that crime podcasts can bring attention to unsolved cases that might otherwise go unnoticed. While this can be true, it raises ethical concerns about public interference with the law. Serial played a crucial role in overturning Adnan Syed’s conviction, freeing an innocent man from wrongful imprisonment. Despite the positive outcome in this case, it shows how public opinion—based on selective storytelling and shaky evidence—can exert pressure on legal processes. Similarly, West Cork implied Ian Bailey’s guilt in the Sophie Toscan du Plantier killing and influenced public opinion despite the lack of solid evidence against him. In cases like To Live and Die in LA, fabricated stories have led to innocent people being harassed. The Amanda Knox case is a stark example of how media-driven rumors can lead to wrongful convictions. It becomes evident that when fiction overtakes fact, justice is lost.

    Another issue is the glamorization of offenders, which shifts attention from the victims. The Ted Bundy Tapes podcast and Netflix documentary reignited interest in Bundy’s charisma rather than focusing on the horrors of his crimes and the victims. Richard Ramirez, the “Night Stalker,” gained a cult following, partly due to sensationalized true crime journalism. Some listeners have even gone so far as to write love letters to these convicted murderers, distorting the justice system by turning criminals into celebrities and victims into mere plot devices. When crime stories prioritize mystery over integrity, they distort public opinion, making it harder to achieve real justice and honor victims.

    Ethical crime reporting must prioritize accuracy, transparency, and advocacy for victims—not sensationalism. Rather than distorting facts for entertainment or speculation, solid reporting should rely on verified sources, uphold the dignity of victims and their families, and avoid misleading information that could compromise legal processes. Ethical true crime journalism should seek to expose systemic law enforcement failures, wrongful convictions, and cold cases in a way that promotes justice, not profit from tragedy. Podcasters and journalists have an obligation to report cases with nuance, ensuring that storytelling doesn’t compromise truth or human dignity.

    However, not all true crime material is irresponsible. Podcasts like In the Dark have led the way by conducting solid investigations and adhering to fact-based journalism. Ethical true crime journalism must prioritize accuracy, transparency, and advocacy for victims, not sensationalism. Justice should not become entertainment, and the suffering of victims and their families should not be exploited for profit. As listeners, we must critically evaluate what we are hearing, being aware of when podcasts craft stories for drama instead of justice. True crime should be about pursuing justice—not distorting it.