Z-Trip: DJ Hero

What can I say except DJ Z-Trip tore the roof down at Congress theater and I had the honor of being there to witness it. Anyone who knows me well knows that I do not like Congress theater as a venue. Why? Long story that boils down to me getting robbed and beaten for stepping out of line at a Congress show. I mean, I'm over it now, but many months passed where I felt true hate towards the guy (who also was a member of the security team) who ravaged me. And I'm not a hater and never have been, so you know this affected in the worst possible way.

Anyway, the highlight of the night was my 2nd favorite DJ in the world, DJ Z-Trip throwing down on the decks. I had the greatest time! Even bought a Z-Trip T-shirt which I've been looking for everywhere.

It's Coming Through: EDM Raves Hook Up

For a few years now die hard electric dance music (EDM) fans have been subjected to some very good parties but also to some very poor parties. Have we forgotten that Chicago is the home of house music?

I'm not going to sit here and whine about the Chicago rave, edm scene. I'm going to give my readers a sneak preview of what's to come with Chicago (area) parties.

The Chicago party scene is broken and before we can fix it we need to identify how it broke in the first place. I like to call it returning to the basics. We have to remember that our economy has been horrible for the last few years. And yes, bad economies even affect Chicago's underground parties. However, just as if they were a Fortune 500 company, the promoters need to find ways to cut costs while still growing the amount of paying customers.

 Chicago-based Just Jay Media™ along with Research Solutions (now owned by JJM) funded a preliminary market research study, which identified three main goals for improvement of the Chicago Party scene:

 1. Customer base.  Promoters and production companies must expand their customer base using a more wide array of advertising techniques. (Fliers and Facebook is just the tip of the iceberg. Expansion is needed.)

2. Safety. If specific safety measures are followed and adhered to at every event, new customers will feel more at ease about attending these parties.

3. Neighborhood diplomacy. If a party venue is way out in Missouri in an unpopulated area, noise and people wandering would not be an issue. However, if the party is at a busy, north side warehouse, across the street from a school (for example), the production companies must take the intuitive to  notify the neighbors of the event and it's details (e.g., party will be loud between 12am and 2am; parking will be difficult during and before the party; security will be on the premises to make sure no laws are broken; etc).

                                       

Lollapalooza: Is it really worth it?

Every once and awhile I like to take one issue of a local newspaper, thoroughly read the article, and then offer my opinions/feedback/criticisms about that article. For this blog, I have chosen Saturday's Chicago Sun-times--my favorite newspaper.

The article that grabbed my attention was LOLLAPALOOZA sold out, but you can watch the show from home. For those of you who aren't familiar with LOLLAPALOOZA, it is a 3-day music festival in Grant Park. Each year they book different performers: last year the headliner was Lady Gaga; this year Eminem. 

Aside from the live stage, which would be where Eminem would perform, there's also an EDM (electronic dance music) stage. By now, after reading my blog for a month, you'd already be 99% sure of the stage I'll be at: EDM stage, of course. So I guess it comes down to Eminem versus Deadmou5e; and even though I lost a lot of respect from Eminem and Deadmouse is very unoriginal, I'm still going to be at that EDM stage all day--just to show my solidarity for electronic music.

As I said, the festival is sold out and this leads to every year people hopping the fences to sneak in without paying for tickets. I'm guilty myself, as one year me and my friends bought old wrist bands--which is your proof of payment--and had the tweek who should them to us tape them on our wrists with scotch tape.

"No way MAN! I am not sneaking in like this! We'll go to jail!" I said to my group.

But it was my only choice. If I wanted to watch the best music festival Chicago has to offer, I'd have to suck it up, grow up and pass through security with old, makeshift wristbands (with the scotch tape), and hope that the dude with the scannner that validates the authenticty of each wrsit is in on the scam. If not, we're off to jail. 

So I did it. Eventhough I was a nervous wreck, I closed my eyes and took the "blind faith" angle. As I approached the security office with the scanner, I was sure he was going to have me locked up. But it didn't happen that way. Security scanned the wristband, a little light on the scanner turned green, and I got in!

My freinds who took the other approach of scaling the perimeter, chain-link fances, weren't so lucky. They climbed to the top and began to climb down. As soon as their feet hit the ground...boom! Chicago police waiting with handcuffs in ready-mode.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that breaking the law to enter that festival is NOT worth it. Also, paying the hundreds of dollars for legit passes is only worth it if there are perfromers you really, really, really want to see.

This year, I'm going to pass on LOLLAPALOOZA.

More Complaints about CPS Teachers

It's days like today that I thank God I am not a Chicago Public School (CPS) teacher. The Chicago Sun-times ran a story yesterday about a personality test required before one is hired as a CPS teacher. Of course, the teachers claim the testing is unfair and that it has eliminated some very qualified applicants. One of those eliminated applicants was a woman who completed her graduate studies in special education at Michigan State University. The Sun-times described her as a "dream applicant," who was all but hired except for this entrance personality test.

I really don't see the problem here. When I completed my teaching degree in 2005 I lost count of the different tests we were required to take (and pass) in order to become full-time CPS teachers. If the CPS wants a prayer at competing with the rest of the nation for the top teachers, they're going to have to man-up and tackle any and all standards required by the Board of Education and district administrators. And if that means a prospective teacher must complete a paper and pencil assessment on the correct teaching methods, so be it. Second best is first loser!

I'm a Stigmatic

I hold many secrets. Some, I will never repeat. Others, it will take some time. But this one I'm ready to reveal.

While I didn't make the connection until later in life, I've always been the subject of stigmata. According to the modern dictionaries used by theology students, Stigmata can be described as follows:

In mysticism, marks on the body which are reputed to be re-productions of Christ's wounds. They involve varying degrees of intensity from faint red marks on the skin to actual bleeding wounds. The first well-known case is that of Francis of Assisi in 1224. (reference unknown)

I can describe stigmata a little better by relating some of my own experiences with the supernatural phenomenon. Recently, after moving back to the suburbs to live with my parents, I formed a crush on this girl. It's hard to describe what happened, but we always found ourselves in these random encounters. I don't even know her name, but I do know that she lives on my block and is ever so beautiful.

At this point in my life I was recovering from a ruptured Achilles tendon and I was forced to do a lot of walking around my neighborhood, which wasn't easy. I mean, the intense pain in my Achilles...I can deal with; but all my hateful "neighbors," I can just say I didn't want to encounter them just as they didn't want to encounter me. That's where this girl (who I'll call Juliet) comes in. I gave her props; so much respect that she acknowledged me. We see each other randomly, we'd make eye contact and smile and say hello. Immature, boy meets girl stuff if you'd ask me.

After some weeks went by we were both stuck. "Juliette" has those parents who'd rather subject themselves to painful torture before letting us have a one-on-one conversation. That's when I crossed the line and disappointed God. I prayed to Him to give me the chance to see this girl under non-random circumstances, which was a mistake.

So I was out early on a Saturday morning, getting my exercise. I looked up at the sky and said: "Please let me see her now; please tell me which way." I continued to walk. I then saw my (and Juliette's) street. Just before I turned...Ouch!!! I stepped on something like a rock. The pain shot through the middle of my foot and just as I was about to take off me shoe to inspect the wound, Juliette comes driving down the street. Even though I was in pain, I waved and she waved back.

After a few days of reflection, I figured it out: my punishment for this sin was the rock I stepped on. This was one of a few stigmatic occurrences I've had this year. But the main lesson to me was: don't temp fate--God's plan--as He exists and is always watching.

Crystal Method...Bringing the Old-School

It was Saturday, I had a good amount of money in my pocket, and my favorite club had Crystal Method booked for a Saturday night set (i.e., show). While I can't say that I love Crystal Method as much as some of the other bigger electronic names, they always seem to rock the house, just as they were in the early nineties.

What can I say? It was an awesome performance. I got in for free. I met up with two of my close friends by chance inside the venue and they just happened to have one of my favorite flavors of candy. I was on cloud nine and I had no intention of climbing down.

The two friends I met up with were as ecstatic as I was. Of course their reasons for being their were part business, but that didn't matter. I got to chill with this girl who was so beautiful, so cute watching Crystal Method bag it up walking all over the club, attempting to get closer to Crystal Method. And even though it was loud, we talked, got to know each other. And when it was too loud to talk, I broke out my glow sticks and ran through a few of my own performances.

After the show, as you can imagine, their was mayhem outside: kids looking for their friends; drunk clubbers looking for cabs. While we were standing there outside, a young, married couple from LA approached and asked if we had any candy left. My friend with the candy said yes, but a familiar wave of paranoia shot through my veins. So I asked the buyer if he was 5-0. "NO. My name is Seth and we're from LA, just looking to party."

I believed him and the girl broke off two pieces of candy. So, you see, the great night was also contagious. That's what I absolutely love: when my awesome experiences spread to other people that I don't even know. People, that's why I still do what I do: I love seeing other people in their own, personal state of ecstasy.

It was daylight by now and my group of friends wanted to attend an after party. I was still wide awake and had a lot of party mojo in me, so I said: "for sure; who's driving?" The kid driving was a mutual friend from Michigan, who almost got into a street fight with some of the local gangbangers on the way to the after-party. We opted to stay peaceful and drove a different direction because we all agreed that a night in jail would cancel out all of the amazingness of the way we spent our night.

We finally got to the warehouse, the site of the after-party. The venue was old-school, rave style; their was a bar a few couches, and a bunch of party people mixed in from other clubs earlier that night. The only complaint I had about this warehouse venue was that it was 90 degrees with 1 high-powered fan. Much too hot.

At about 8:00 am we decided to end the night and the Michigan kid drove me to the train. I can't even put into words how awesome Crystal Method was and how great we all connected with 99% good, EDM (electric dance music) vibes!

Same Rave, New Rules

On one of my previous posts, I talked about my experiences at a rave party called Happystep, "the party that never happened."


Throughout this week, I've been going back-and-forth as to whether or not I should express my opinions on yet another real-life experience I had at this party. My choice: to write about it.


As I wrote in the previous post, the party never happened because a Chicago Police undercover police officer ended it. This police officer was very respectful and fair, and even (dare I say) a bit sympathetic to all the "kids" who had taken multiple trains and buses to get to the party venue--which was near 71st and Kedzie--having to pay out five dollars for the luxury of being sent away to party elsewhere.


The way I see it, this cop could have been rude and disrespectful, but she wasn't at all. She was just doing her job. She even entertained some of the ravers' stupid questions about permits and laws as she waited for every one to vacate the premises.


Under Daley's regime, there would have been 15 tactical cops posted up at the door, yelling and screaming at 17-year-old kids about how wrong it is to be in a bad neighborhood. True Chicago ravers and club kids know that Daley hated ravers with a double passion. So, all in all, maybe this cordial cop can be attributed to Rahm--the new mayor. Either way, I left the party without feeling the hot air I like to call ego draining out my ears--which fail to work sometimes.

My Annotated Philosophy of Education (written c. 2005)

My Annotated Philosophy of Education

By: "just jay"

       Often, when I think of educational philosophy, names such as John Dewey, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Ralph Tyler come to mind.  Terms, albeit important in meaning and practice, such as constructivism and holistic, also connect with the way I view my formal philosophy of education.  However, education is, and will always be much more than reflections of the ways in which others view education and its meaning in the realm of life.  It must be noted, however, while I do believe that education would not be where it is today without such people as Emerson and Dewey, I also believe that it is the educator who must develop his or her own philosophy of education.

       Looking back three or four years ago, as I sat in the front row during a “Philosophy of Education” class, I always could not help but to wonder: Okay, I know where the philosophy comes from, yet how do I develop my own philosophy?  Also, would that philosophy not be based on the words and actions of others?  However, as I quickly learned through my preservice teaching years, one may take many years before he or she develops a complete philosophy of education.  Therefore, while it may very well seem like – to some – as my own brand of sophistry, I would much rather view (and explain) my philosophy of education through what I view as a successful, all-inclusive, educational management program.

       While I have included a brief “overview” of my classroom management beliefs within this Showcase portfolio (N.B. See PowerPoint Classroom Management Presentation), I believe that, at this point in my education, I am developing that philosophy.  For I am not going to attempt to purport that a solid classroom management program is a successful alternate to a personal philosophy of education.  I am merely illustrating for the reader that the manner in which I educate does reflect a bit of constructivism, many “holistic” ideologies, etc.  However, as far as a full sense on how one should view education, I do not have a complete response.

From the archives.

Happystep: The Rave that never happened

Okay. So I finally motivated myself to attend an actual rave. Not a club with a rave theme or a backyard birthday party with light shows and low-grade x; a rave!

My reasons for attending this party were different. I mean, it usually comes down a large group of friends, good DJs, candy and all that other good stuff. But this time I wanted to go mainly because it was one of my very good friend's birthday; I'd been trying to see this girl for months, but outside circumstances have kept us apart. So you can imagine my excitement when she told me on Facebook that she'd be going to Happystep (the rave).

As fate would have it, the party never happened. While I was sitting out front waiting for her to show up an undercover, Chicago police car came instead. Buzz kill! Being that I'd been going to these parties forever, I knew the cop meant doom--it meant there would be no part at that venue. So me and about 20 other kids paid our door (entrance fee), which never got refunded, only to be whisked away by a cop.

Now, it wasn't all bad. Somehow, some way, I managed to save the night. I have to emphasize here: these things only happened at raves. I'm completely serious about this. Anyway, while we were waiting for this party to get started, I met these random kids from the suburbs--like me--but years younger. For a few of them this was to be their first rave: double buzz-kill!

But there was still hope. We learned of an after-party (which was actually the main event party) that was in reality a house party with a rave theme. But it qualified as a rave. These kids were awesome. They drove me all the way to this after-party before even knowing my name. On the way to the party we got to know each other and they seemed impressed at my party ethics. It gets better. I met this girl (I can't write her name here, so I'll call her "fine-girl,") and I sensed that there was a connection. Not the connection where we'd want to runaway and get married, but a connection nevertheless. The biggest problem was our age difference, but it didn't seem to make us uncomfortable. It must be noted here that nothing happened between us at this party. I just loved her vibes so I hung around her at the party and she didn't seem to get too sick of me so we just talked. It was all innocent fun and we both had a great time (I hope!).

To show my gratitude for them driving me to this party, I paid for one of them to get into this after-party (which charged an entrance fee as well...of course). When we got into the house, it was hot, stuffy and wild. I guess the best way I could categorize this party was wall-to-wall, hardcore street-raving. I wanted to make "fine-girl" feel comfortable (and show off my player skills a bit), so I bought a piece of candy and we split it.

Now, I was happy, ecstatic you could say. I felt like I was the luckiest guy in the over-packed house (with at least 200 people). I mean, I got to chill with this hot girl and her friends and meet some interesting people. I was more than content. Though the environment was poor: too hot, too crowded, not enough water, etc. Everything went well. I gave this "fine-girl" one of my favorite pieces of kandi; and I put it on her wrist.

These kids were so young, I didn't want to encourage them to stay out for days like I used to do. I felt as if they did enough by making my night so awesome I just asked them fro a ride to the el. Of course they were suburb kids and had no idea how to get to the el. We surmised that we all were traveling to the north suburbs so I was on their way. They gave me a ride all the way to my house, and I have to say, the ride home was chilled: I got to sit next to "fine-girl," making it easier for me to talk to her without having to yell over the music.

This is why I continue to be passionate about raves, parties, cool club kids...anyone who follows the "PLUR" guidelines. Oh what a night!

The GED Test Saved my Life!

As we work diligently here at Just Jay Media headquarters, I wanted to present an endorsement and little-known fact about my educational upbringing.

Just because I was a very successful college student, people always assume I graduated from one of those North shore, "public but only if you live in the district" type high schools. That assumption, ladies and gentlemen, is incorrect. While I did attend Maine South high school in Park Ridge (unfortunately), I was asked to withdrawal (drop out) long before I could graduate. Why? Well, that's a whole other story for a different blog, but I'll offer up the short version.

The two worst years of my life were ages 13 and 14, when I attended Lincoln Junior High school in Park Ridge. I know I've mentioned it in past blogs how I hated school so much, I tried to die rather than attend--literally. If junior high is supposed to be training for those rigorous and competitive high school years, I was Gomer Pyle in a Vietnamese boot camp. So, I left Lincoln with a chip on my shoulder. I was terrified of high school as it had more students, rules and teachers.

But something actually went right for me. Right before the summer of 8th grade, my hideous appearance improved. I mean, I was "that kid" who was so ugly the other kids didn't even want to look at me. I had a severe case of acne that was immune to any of the many treatment attempts my dermatologist tried. It seemed hopeless. Anyway, out of no where, my acne cleared up, my weight evened out and I grew some muscle mass. I was still light years away from being Justin Bieber, but I was no longer ugly.

I entered Maine South with a more positive attitude. I was lucky too that I had a few connections from junior high that got me in with the popular seniors--the seniors who ran the school. Even though I was only a freshman I had a gift, a skill, a forte: I could sell weed. On that alone, I got in with the seniors. Moreover, their top senior and leader liked me and let me hang out and ride in his sleek, new car. It all seemed too good to be true.

My grades at Maine South were atrocious. I loved playing baseball so I did what I had to do to stay eligible to play. The upper-class kids I had affiliated with had moved on: got kicked out; dropped out; went to jail; died; etc. So I found myself in a precarious situation where I had to do things by myself. The last thing in Hell I wanted was a repeat of junior high, so I took the initiative to actually recruit an army of friends. And it didn't matter if they went to Maine South, East or West. I needed a crew--a loyal crew.

It took a few months for me to put my plan in action but it all started to come together. I sought out the kids with gifts: some who could fight; some who could motivate; some who could sell drugs and make money. Age, sex and location were less important than loyalty, intelligence and obedience. After a few more months, this "crew" we formed was transformed into the Latin Kings--a notorious Chicago street gang--after we couldn't get organized in the suburbs. A PR Stone (a brother gang of the Latin Kings) took us under his wing and schooled us in the art of gangbanging. So even though we were white boys from the suburbs, we took our violations (entrance requirements) and were officially made Latin Kings. Our home set was Levitt and Cortland- near Armitage and Western in the Bucktown neighborhood.

Affiliated gang members was all Maine South needed to keep suspending us until we either dropped out or got kicked out. Knowing I was fighting a losing battle, I dropped out. At this time I was 16, so I needed my Father's permission. To my dismay, he agreed. The way I see it, he must have seen all the violent street gang stuff first-hand and just wanted me to get away.

I took the form to my dean at Maine South with all the required signatures, making it official: I was now a bona fide, high school drop-out with no job and an armada of cops who loathed me. Great.

If you would of told me that I'd miss learning (not school!), I'd say you were insane. But I missed learning. There was absolutely nothing about Maine South that I missed at all... no way! But I wanted to be in some type of educational setting, learning something, if only to keep my mind occupied. I began researching exactly what I'd have to do to get back on track and possibly go to trade school or night school. At this point in my life, I thought I was dumb and slow and remedial, so college was out of the question.

I learned that I had to take the U.S.-mandated GED (General Equivalency Degree) to earn my high school diploma. This scared me. After all, how was I supposed to pass a test on classes I had never taken? I didn't matter though. I was determined. There was no way I was going to end up having a career as a night cashier at a gas station (although it is an interesting part-time job) and living the "G" life, selling drugs and mooching off my parents.

I scrounged up $25 for the GED practice book and studied like I'd never studied before. I brought this book everywhere, as I knew if I passed this test I could have some of the same opportunities as the "real" high school graduates. After a few more months, the day arrived. I had to report to a high school on a Saturday for an 8 hour GED test, and I wasn't too confident.

The test took me the full eight hours and seemed a lot easier than I envisioned it would be. After I finished and left the test site, I had no idea whether or not I passed.

A few months passed and I got a letter from the GED testing service. I got nervous because it was too small to hold a diploma. I was sure I failed. I slowly opened the letter: "Congratulations...you passed." Yes! I passed the GED on the first try and also scored so high, my scores made me eligible for college honors classes.

Many years later, I hold a Bachelor's degree and many other certifications, wherein I had to take intensive classes on difficult subjects. I am about to begin taking classes at the Community college again because I still LOVE learning!

-Just Jay-

Bad Boy Bill on July 4th: Fire works

When I saw on Facebook that my favorite DJ in the world (Bad Boy Bill) would be playing a local club on the 4th of July, I thought it was too good to be true. It didn't matter. I pulled out my credit card and bought a presale ticket just in the rare case the show would sell out.

It was my first time being at this venue, V-Live. I have to say, I was impressed. The venue had 3 levels with one main room set up for the bigger DJ headliners. When I first arrived at around 9:00, there were very few people there--maybe 20 at the most. That worried me. Would I be forced to see my DJ idol with 50 other people in a near-empty show room? It sometimes happens where even a great lineup will not draw due to a number of factors; some outside the control of the promoters.

I was put to ease when I saw a steady flow of people filing into the venue. Now, because Bill is an old-school DJ, the average age had to be around 30 years old. I was baffled as to why the even let the 18-20 crowd in (kids that age couldn't possibly understand why Bad boy Bill is and always will be a Chicago legend). Either way, I love to see the younger crowd paying to see quality music talent rather than some rich kid showing off his new I-Book and down loadable DJ program.

I wish I had more good things to say about the venue. It wasn't dirty or in any way a fire hazard; but it just had too many promoters and security and not nearly enough bartenders and hot dancers. Drinks were way over-priced but the staff was rude and at times disrespectful to us patrons.

I can only speak for myself when I say: It made this year's 4th of July awesome--one for the record books. It also gave me new stories to tell the new-schoolers about DJs Bad Boy Bill and Mark Farina.

Overall grade: B- by Just Jay and staff

Church and My Idol: IndepenDANCE

Even though I rarely post on Sundays, I just felt the need to share about a potentially awesome day I should have today. My mother suggested we go to Church for the first time in more than a few years for me. It was like she read my mind because I had been wanting to attend services for a while (and will not offer up excuses as to why I haven't made the effort to get off my lazy ass and just go).

You'd think I'd be nervous about seeing people in my congregation who I haven't seen in over ten years, but I'm not. Actually, I'm looking forward to it. The Church infrastructure gives me that warm feeling; a feeling like I'm invincible. And the art, the stained-glass windows are remarkable. It's so perfect the way the sun shines through the windows at that exact time where one can see all the spectacular repertoire of colors.

After church I plan on getting some work done here, at my home-office. Then, tonight, I get a true July 4th grand finale: DJ Bad Boy Bill (one of my idols and my favorite DJ) spinning at a club in the city. Though I've drastically cut back on EDM (Electronic Dance Music [genre]) events lately, I cannot, will not miss an opportunity to see Bad Boy Bill rock the house live on Independence day! It brings me back to 1993!

I learned something new today as I do each and every day: if one leaves things to God/fate instead of planning every little detail, it all comes together; much like listening to Mozart, watching fireworks explode in the night sky beneath the heavenly stars.

-Just Jay-

Raver Blog with Just Jay: Press Release: Just Jay Media

Raver Blog with Just Jay: Press Release: Just Jay Media: "Just Jay Media has purchased the domain www.truerave.com for an undisclosed amount. As of now, the page is under construction. Truerave.com..."

Press Release: Just Jay Media

Just Jay Media has purchased the domain www.truerave.com for an undisclosed amount. As of now, the page is under construction. Truerave.com is aimed to be the top EDM, underground music entertainment web site in North America!

What Raving Means to Just Jay (Intro)

I love to rave--party to the extreme--to the fullest, attempting to "break through" or reach that optimal, euphoric high, which maybe happens once or twice per lifetime. For you non-ravers this means doing some quantity of designer "candy" that takes complete control of your mind, body and spirit.

The very first time I broke through was at a rave called Farewell to Wonderland in Chicago c. 2006. It was at that rave (party) where I actually died, rose above the party goers and had the bittersweet luxury of looking down at my lifeless body. On one hand, it was the most existential experience I'd ever had; but at the same time it invoked a sense of terror that I can't even begin to put to words.

Either way, after that experience, I changed my out look of life: became happier; more accepting; less judgemental, etc. That is why, ladies and gentlemen, I recommend raving as not only a hobby but a way of life. I have over 10 years of college that says this rave therapy transcends any of the other traditional therapies for depression, ADD, ADHD, bi-polar, etc. After all, I'm living proof!

-JJ-

Signs of God

Dear Readers,
     I haven't been contributing to my blog as much lately and I'm not happy about that. On the flipside, I've been busy building my new business, which consumes 18 hours some days. Then there's distractions; some good, some bad.
     The good distractions involve countless hours reading lengthy (albeit informative) literature on running businesses. I like to think that I pick one subject a week to research and learn about. For example, one week I chose in line skating, the next America's top DJs. Well, I hope you get the point. Without my distractions I'd end up back in lockdown, etc.
     The best of the good distractions involve who other than God himself. It's much too complex to present my "talking to God" argument here, so I'll offer a brief summary. The first time I knew, I mean really knew God exists was in 2005 when I was in a personal crisis -- involving a girl (of course!) -- to the point where I couldn't make the right decision, or any decision for that matter. I didn't know what to do. I sat on my air conditioner, gazing up at the clear, spring, night sky, begging God to show me a sign -- any sign that he felt my pain. That's when it happened. I saw a cross in the sky, right over my head. Of course it wasn't a wooden cross, defying gravity and rigged with lights; it was an airplane with lights that made it resemble the Holy cross of Jesus. I consider that my first miracle of signs.
      When ever I get into the proverbial "Does God Exist" argument with my friends and foes, my first retort is the flying cross form 2005: a true miracle. The way I see it: I know it was a sign from God and it transformed me from a passive believer to an avid believer.
     Six years later I still see signs. Me and God talk to each other through signs of nature. No. He doesn't give the winning Powerball numbers, but He does occasionally make me aware of demons plotting against me. What does this make me? I'd say, I am an angel -- a good angel; a mortal with 9 or so cat lives. But just like everything else in life, there's two sides. I don't want to believe it, but I could be a arch-angel--a wolf in sheep's clothing.  I guess only time will tell.
--Just Jay--

    

My Saturday Nights: Clubs Vs. Raves

It used to be where I'd hit the rave of the week on Saturday nights--especially in spring. Well those days are over. Now, my favorite party spot is a club downtown. Just as if it were a rave, I still bring my repertoire of lights and dress up for the occasion. With my days being boring lately, raving downtown as all I have to look forward to.

My main motive for going to the club is finding a girlfriend who wants a relationship. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. The way I see it, the club is one of the most appropriate places to hook up. Raves are too, sure, but the kids are so young and often so sexually confused. Right now, I need that older, well-adjusted female with a job and career goals.

In addition, I can be the only one at a rave to spin lights: my true passion. Lightshows make me feel like a movie star with all these people taking my picture. So it comes to lightshows, dancing with hot girls and notoriety as the coolest dude in the club. I'll settle for that any day!

News Release: Just Jay Updates Facebook Profile

UPDATE: Okay people. Since I get so many questions about my relationship status, I thought I'd take the initiative and address it here on FB, since it would be a bit inappropriate to bring up at a press conference (not my own)…

Anyone who knows me knows my lines, so here it goes...Every true story in my life begins with the following sentence: “I met this girl.”

I'm serious about that. Being an overachiever and always having to compete for anything and everything has transformed me into a stuck-up idiot, who thinks he rules the world. But that's not the problem; the problem (for lack of a better word) is my chronic immaturity, which goes way beyond simple eccentricity. In other words, yes, I have to grow up. If you know me, and you probably do, you’d see the living example of a guy who has the emotional maturity of a 5 year old, or maybe 6 on a good day. But I’m working on that…

I'm the kind of person who feels vibes, good and bad. I wouldn't say I'm "emo," but I definitely tend to judge people by their emotions versus their intrinsic qualities. In other words, I’d rather see you happy and hear you talk about cats than see you sad and talk about your new IPOD.  And you'd better believe my emotional attachments have gotten me into trouble; a lot of trouble. Anyway, I like to think old-school: that I'll one day meet a girl who wants to be spoiled; who likes it when I pay for her to go to clubs, concerts and raves; who has the motivation and freedom to travel to festivals all over the country (Ultra, EDC, DEMF, etc.); who appreciates that she is hot, near perfect and loves to show that off to the world...while giving Just Jay is due credit, of course (jk); who isn't afraid of being crazy sometimes and has aspirations that go beyond spending 23 1/2 hours per day on Facebook; who drives a hot car (preferably a blue BMW or other German, luxury vehicle); who laughs and smiles more than yells and frowns; who goes with PDA. You get the idea here, I hope! Oh yeah, she must absolutely love electronic dance music (EDM) with her whole heart to the fullest, where the love is so strong she hears bass in her sleep and treble in her dreams…BooOOooM! Can you feel that Bass yet?

What is a Raver: More Facebook Slander

I love God and my religion but dislike when fellow-Christians spread hate by writing blogs that are pure conjecture, incorrect and blasphemous as is What is a Raver, written by Tyson Bowers III.  You may view this article in its entirety at http://christwire.org/2011/06/what-is-a-raver/

While surfing Facebook, I came across a link to a Christian website with an all-inclusive blog-post about Ravers and the origins of the Underground, Rave network.  In short, the author, Tyson Bowers III, slams this art of perfection by portraying a one-sided argument against fellow Ravers that gives Christianity a bad name.  Not only are his views biased and inaccurate, they are also weak, ungodly and overly subjective. 

The Origins of Rave Culture

He begins the article by attributing the historical origin of Raves to Nazi Germany.  This is incorrect sir.  If he’d paid attention in history class or did his research he would have known that Raves go back to B.C. times when the Pagans partied out to Dionysus—the god of raves, wine and ecstasy.  You can’t blame all bad things on the Nazis, even if you find that a convenient outlet for your slanderous attacks.

Next, Bowers (the author) again attempts to portray Ravers as dirty by saying: “… [Ravers] dance while they shove pills of ecstasy drugs up their rectums and suck on cherry flavored ring pops.”  Now, I can’t tell here if he’s being literal or not, but I do know this, I’ve been to many thousands of Raves and I’ve known maybe two or three Ravers who have actually shoved an ecstasy pill “up their rectum.”  Sorry to say, it doesn’t happen that way.  The way I see it at least, it is a waste of a good pill, despicable and very inconvenient to plug pills; it also causes severe medical problems (as you could imagine!).  In my experiences, I’ve learned that 90% of true Ravers are smart, very smart, and would never stick a pill up their asses.  Sorry!
Bowers continues, having the audacity to blame an influx of abortions in Russia to Ravers as well.  Why not, right?  Wrong!  Well, here’s his direct quote: “These phase in UK history is also known as the ‘Abortion Plague,’ as the rate of abortions shot up to 74% in girls from the ages of 14 to 19.”  First off, learn how to spell; “this” is spelled t-h-i-s, not t-h-e-s-e.  Okay?  Second, you didn’t even cite a legit source for this stunning, speculative and stupid statistic.  And the reason for that is, you couldn’t locate one!
Bowers again oversteps the boundaries of rhetoric by claiming that “Raves didn’t become popular in the U.S. until the LATE 1990s.”  Wrong again.  Raves actually declined in popularity in the late 1990s.  They were most popular in the EARLY 1990s but dropped off in the LATE 1990s!  Get your facts straight.  And, by the way, “Happy Hardcore” music played a role in this, but it had more to do with eclectic, underground music that you wouldn’t recognize if it slapped you in the face.

Blame the Music and Ecstasy!
Bowers goes on to claim…

“Rave DJs (Drug Jockeys as he refers to them as) knew the American’s loved more of a ‘pop’ sound and developed this music to entice American’s to come to their hidden desert parties and get them hooked on the newly developed drug MDMA, also know as ecstasy or “The fuzzy sex pill”. The first popular Happy Hardcore song in American was called “Groove is in the Heart” by a Los Angeles band named ‘Deee-Lite.’

Wow!  All this guy’s misspellings are distracting, I know, but this direct quote speaks for itself.  He tries to bash DJs by calling them “Drug Jockeys.”  The truth is however, I’ve met more Ravers that would want to be a DJ than would want to be pro athletes.  As a Christian myself, I wouldn’t go as far to say, “God is a DJ,” but the truth be told, this is how all music lovers look at good DJs; not just Ravers.  Again overly biased and subjective, Bowers joins the blame game by attributing the popularity of Raves to MDMA.  On this, I have to say, he actually may be on to something.  MDMA, a derivative of methamphetamine, does contribute to the influx of Raving, yes.  However, I may be in denial here myself, but come on; it is severely hard to get “hooked” on ecstasy—on a physical level.  That’s why I like to say ecstasy is bittersweet, collateral damage that comes with the territory of being a Raver.  

Moving on…Bowers returns to the “all about the Ecstasy” argument with the outlandish statement that the drug turns these kids into “raging” sex fiends, wherein they’d have 12-17 sexual partners in one night.  Isn’t this just a tiny bit blown out of proportion here?  Look, I’m an industry-expert in ecstasy, so I’d be the first to know if the drug turns one into a hyper-sexual dynamo with 17 partners.  Maybe, Bowers, could this be wishful thinking?  Is say so because, I’ve taken more than my share of ecstasy (which I am not advocating here!), and I’ve had 1-2 sexual partners (total) over the span of my near 20 years raving.  An exception to the rule?  Maybe.  But there is no way you can attribute 17 partners a night to Raves, or even drugs.  Anyone with half a brain knows this, but you, the expert does not?  Why is that?

Bowers reaches more when he blames the DJ for giving names to the different types of ecstasy.  For my readers here who don’t understand, here’s how what I like to call “branding ecstasy” works: ecstasy comes in pill form, all different sizes, colors and shapes.  Unlike its despicable sister drug, crystal methamphetamine, ecstasy is unique in that there are several types or brands.  For example, Blue Superman, Mints, Pink Snowman…well, you get the idea.  The dealers (not DJs!) do this of course for the same reason Pepsi has so many different types of soft-drinks—sales, sales, sales!  My point here is that there must be a distinction between DJs and drug dealers, because they are not one-and-the-same.  Are there DJs who also sell and/or promote ecstasy?  Yes.  Are most DJs drug dealers?  Absolutely not.  Get it straight, sir!

Candy Kids

Next, of course, Bowers begins his attack on “Candy” kids.  Some of his hate-filled characterizations on this subculture include:

            Candy kids wear bright clothing and beads, and you can recognize them because they all wear ring pops on their fingers. 

Well, I was one, a candy kid, not a ring pop, and I never saw a problem with wearing colorful clothes. Sure, the beads (which ravers call kandy) were a bit eccentric, but what’s wrong with this type of artistic expression?

“Each candy kid collects beads, these beads are signs of how many bi-sexual sex orgies they have been apart of.”

What in the world is he talking about here?  First of all, beads aka: kandy, have really nothing to do with orgies.  The beads, which are usually worn as bracelets by ravers of both sexes, symbolize memories that full under the raver mission statement of Peace, Love, Unity and Respect (or PLUR).

“A candy kid is also know[n] for their “glow stick” skills and often battle with other candy kids to see who can do the better light show dance. Most battles are for drugs or to win a sex session with the other crews…”

Again, Bowers could be on to something here even if he is dead wrong.  I am the king of glowsticks (or so I like to tell myself that), have battled many different people and it’s never been about winning any type of prize let alone sex or drugs!  True ravers battle for platonic love and positive vibes and instead buy their drugs like everyone else in society.  With all the battles I’ve won over the years, I’d probably have a metropolis of families had sex been a prize for winning.  It just doesn’t work that way.

“… [A] violent clan of the bunch, with their afro-angry drum beats and Zulu dance moves. Mostly made up of “Yellows” and blacks, Jungle Lists go to these parties to stir up trouble, cause fights and rob other ravers. This should not be a surprise as we know communist Asians and blacks due the same thing in American society.”

Even though Bowers exposes himself here as racist (big surprise, right?), he is way off in this claim.  Ravers are targeted for robberies more than other party populations, sure; but it has way more to do with the Ravers’ passive views towards violence and wanting to be peaceful to their communities than their races!  Also, ravers often have divergent views from that of their police counterparts.  And I have no idea why.

To Sum…
Bowers ends his insane, delusional depictions of innocent kids by characterizing another rave sub-culture (PLUR babies) as:
“… rich suburban white kids who hide their homosexual activities from their parents and live it up at local raver gay bars.”

Now, come on.  Are you serious here?  Do you expect my readers to believe they’d want to meet you, Mr. Bowers, in a local gay bar?  You’re a Christian and I respect that, but you’re a loser; you spread hate through one of the most one-sided, offbeat blogs I’ve ever read.  And aside from all the grammatical errors, your research lacks merit, your statistics are inaccurate, and your opinions are pathetic!  And yes!  I’m a Christian, as are many of my Raver friends, and we’d all rather be the lowest class of raver than the upper class of hater…like yourself.

Peace.

Written by Just Jay et al.

Sources: Bowers, T. III. “What is a Raver.” http://christwire.org/2011/06/what-is-a-raver/

PLUR Defined by Just Jay

Although I am a die-hard raver, circumstances and fate led me away from the parties I love—at least for a while. Ravers have a unique code and outlook on life that sets them apart from the mainstream electronic music audiences and party-goers. They call it PLUR, which is an acronym for Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect.

There is real no way to describe the meaning of PLUR. The way I see it, it is a way of life and a set of ethical values that the raver follows in order to sustain and protect a way of life for the people (like me and many of my friends) who will walk to the end of earth for a good party, as long as it has those good vibes. In reality, one must first become a raver before he or she can truly understand what the PLUR phenomenon is all about; or so I thought. It took me many years of parties all over the United States to have the ability to understand this notion.

Well, more to the point, I had to leave my beloved (Chicago!) rave scene in order to attend to some personal eccentricities; one of which was a bad break-up from a great girl. Anyway, the fact remains that I have a passion for electronic music, lightshows, dancing, awesome DJs, bass, and the awesome people who share those likes.

If you would have told me that I could find people like this at a club versus a random warehouse (the usual domain for rave parties), I would have laughed. But it happened. I went to my usual club spot at which happens to be one of the top-rated night clubs in the United States. Located downtown (Chicago!), this club often caters to the Chicago elite: DJs, business men, movie stars and athletes. The party people at this club are of all ages (over 21), men, women, black, white, Oriental and Hispanic, for it prides itself on diversity, much like the Chicago rave scene.

I had been going to this club on and off for many years after me and my friends paid off a bouncer to illegally enter the club when I was 17. Ever since then, I consider this place one of my very favorite Chicago destinations to have mega fun! Well, last Saturday night at this club was prenominal! It was the first time in many months I have seen people letting loose, dancing, jumping and raving to the DJs. I mean, it was indescribable. The vibes were amazing, the music was near-perfect and it all came to together ever-so-perfect.

Of course, being true to the raver code, I had to bring my glow sticks and show off one of my God-given talents to my new group of friends: lightshows. And as it turned out, the clubbers absolutely loved it! To return the love, I gave one of my spare glow sticks to a group of kids and it made their night (as well as my own)! They must have taken over 100 pictures showing off this glow stick, which I'm sure will be posted on their Facebook pages the next day. I loved it all, a lot! An if you think that it couldn't get any better, you're wrong! When I went to take a break from being on my feet and waving lights around, I decided to check Facebook on my phone. Boom! I had a "wall post" from a girl who I really like and respect. She just said hello, but it added to the perfectness.

This, readers, is what I mean by PLUR. Actions and emotions, collectively and independently, coming together to heighten one to the point of intense euphoria. I'm down for that any day, anytime, anywhere and it doesn't have to be at a stuffy warehouse on Chicago's west side either.

Just, Thank You! By Word Up Staff

It's Saturday and I have a busy night planned after a busy, past-week of writing and research. So, I thought I'd share tomorrow's Press Release a day early. Who ever said I don't care about my audience?

First, we'd like to thank our readers for a successful first week! Despite our early release—which was originally scheduled for July—the risk we took to launch our "preliminary" blog and website was extremely encouraging. As our audience is aware, we expect exponential growth in all of our media services. We are aiming for a (more) formal release date in late summer or early fall, so stay tuned!

We'd also like to thank: our production team—albeit short-staffed at the moment; Just Jay (Acting Editor-and-Chief); Jason, Jason and our L.A. Sources for tipping us off on the Justin Bieber Freaks Out story (see archives for post).

Upcoming…well, you'll just have to check us out. If we told you the amazing things we have planned, we'd lose that surprise factor, right?

Peace, Love and Eternal Gratitude,

Just Jay's Staff!

My Talent! Glowstix!

This is what I do when I'm sad!

Stay Hungry and Mean at Cook County Jail by Just Jay

The Sheriff if Cook County, Illinois decided to change it up at Cook County Jail. Instead of a 2,700 calorie-per-day diet, Inmates now have to contend with a 2,300 calorie per-day diet—if being locked down in a hot, dirty, waste-of-life hell isn't bad enough. The cost per meal will decrease a whopping $.03.

Okay, money is money, sure. But, come on, let the inmates eat! After all, do you want a starving convict at your door, begging for food? Hell no! The starving writers are bad enough!

Sources: WordUP Media; Chicago Sun-times

Just IN! Gold Digger Hooks Up! By Staff

Chicago’s B96 reports that Mary Kate Olsen has a new boyfriend, Kanye West!  Apparently, the two hooked up at a nightclub, where Kanye was celebrating his 34^th birthday. 

Sources: B96, Perezhilton.com

What I Like (or Dislike) on Facebook: Making my New Profile by Just Jay

Here it is! I know, finally. Rihanna has the cutest, female singing voice. I like that. J-Lo (Jennifer Lopez) has the most amazing smile and dances ever-so-perfect.

EDM (Electronic Dance Music) rocks! Chicago's B96 is addictive and former B96 DJ, the one-and-only Bad Boy Bill is one of my idols. Hip House died many years ago, but I still listen to Fast Eddie on You Tube. I love the sound of bass…so phreaking loud it makes your hair vibrate! Raving is my passion and Peace, Love, Unity, Respect (PLUR) is my personal ethos. Yet, sometimes I'd much rather be at Club Vision, dancing with those mega-fine dimes to DJ Spin.

I love God, Jesus and the Bible.

I like girls who can commit to relationships, boyfriend-girlfriend, all the way. I like having standards: If you're with me, I pay for you; I pay for everything! I dislike girls who front but love girls who lead. I love those cocky, " like, I know I'm too fine…" females I see at dance parties.

I like communication but not having public arguments on Facebook—unless of course, I'm winning that argument! I love talking to my friends and talking smack to my enemies. I absolutely LOVE being in love, even if it only lasts for one day. I love talking to my friends (and stalkers) on Facebook but I love using love and music to express my inner-emotions.

I love education: going to school, staying in school, and maybe owning that school. I like being addicted to learning but hate being dependent on street knowledge. I love that I have my own personal library. I love, love, love writing! I love the Chicago Sun-Times (News) because they're not afraid to speak the truth.

I love people, hate haters and loathe bullies and non-defensive violence. I love being a self-proclaimed pacifist. I hate when people steal my lines unless they cite me as "source." I sometimes love just seeing other people happy and having fun – actual fun! I like being a genius but hate being too smart for my own good as I still haven't figured out what that even means. (Genius you say?).

I love the United States, the Marines and everything else that makes us the elite – cream de la cream!

As usual, I have a lot more to go. This is a work-in-progress. I mean, it's Facebook! Doesn't that mean it has to be perfect and accurate???

Source: WordUP News Archives

The Top Ten Signs your Date maybe an FBI Informant

The Top Ten Signs your Date maybe an FBI Informant

True or False? Seduction Fed-Style! Gotta love it!

My Day on Facebook: Can I have a Job?

Rosie R.

‎$$$ lmfao.

Participants who have used 'dance' drugs needed for a research study

chicago.craigslist.org Top of Form

3 hours ago ·LikeUnlike Share

Henry S. and Dare T. like this.

Emily Z. That's fucking sweet. $250 to get fucked up!

Rosie R. lmao im sayin...all you gotta do is go to tha lab a few timez n they give yu bankk loll

Henry S. i applied haha

Rosie R. lmao i did to. they said theyll get back to me.

John If they did a study for real by now they would of known they wasted their money.

Rosie R. itz market research they dont care bout money*

*Offical Facebook transcript. Only the “names” have been edited; the content is original (and spelling atrocious).

Readers, this is an illustration of why we need better employment opportunities for todays’ youths! Are you kidding me?

Just Jay's Real-Life Facebook Profile

Well, you wanted it, here it is: an excerpt from my official, real-life, unedited, award-winning, gf approved, Twitter-accepted... Facebook profile!

Basic Information

About You

Where do I begin with this? FB. Nobody cares about when I was born. But I was born here in Chicago to two parents who weren't ready to have kids. They tell me to this day how they didn't plan or want me but I don't let that get me down. I'm here and I plan on staying. When I was a baby, my dad moved me into the suburbs of Chicago. I made my destiny on the streets of those suburbs. I mean, I was a horrible kid. My teachers hated me and my parents misunderstood me. I had to learn to rely on my friends. I learned young that my real family were my friends. I learned to choose my friends carefully and to only include the best, the brightest, the strongest people in "my" peer group. Yes. It's all about survival out there. I mean, if you can't rely on your friends, who can you rely on? That's what we were. A band of misfits. We were the lost souls; the kids nobody wanted to care about. All we had was us--each other. Yes. I was one of the leaders. I can't take all the credit though. I always wanted my people to be happy. I always cared and always will. For my friends, we set the expectations high, very high. I had a say in who got in or who got out. People seemed to vallue my decision-making skills. Why? I have no idea. I was just a dumb kid, trying to survive in a cruel world. I made it though. Most of my people didn't. They weren't strong enough because I couldn't be there for them. I've learned to accept that though. Sure, the pain will always be there as will the nightmares. What ever doesn't kill you does make you stronger. Anyway, I'm still here and I'm staying. I know who my friends are just as I know who the bad people are. WTF. I am like so stuck-up, so immature, so emotional and all that...I know.

Felon, fired cop land sweet school jobs in Cicero and Berwyn district - Chicago Sun-Times

Felon, fired cop land sweet school jobs in Cicero and Berwyn district - Chicago Sun-Times

Just IN! A larger example of breach of security in Chicago-area schools! Read my post about Lane Tech!

You Say-I Say: By Staff Contributors

You Say- I saycolumn acts as your de facto glossary!

You Say religion, I say God!You say gangbanger, I say Original gangster! You say Facebook, I say fb. You say Park Ridge, I say Disturbia. You say boy-band, I say kids with the first name of Justin. You say crazy, I say misunderstood. You say club, I say Rave. You say loose change, I say dust. You say Daley, I say corruption. You say Just Jay, I say (almost!) perfect! You say blue BMW, I say the hot girl living down the block. You say Gaga, I say Perry. You say Electro, I say Guetta. You say Pulitzer, I say Chicago Sun-times. You say cute, I say fine. You say insomnia, I say Faithless. You say 23, I say Jordan. You say notorious, I say Nino. You say DJ, I say title. You say guys shouldn't cry, I say I cry, dumb-ass!

You Say rap, I say hip-hop! You Say education, I say where? You Say German, I say Arian. You Say Luke, I say my favorite Book. You Say psychology, I say psychopathology. You Say Paganism, I say mythology. You Say pain, I say Love! You Say America, I say Paradise. You Say Jay, reading sucks, I say so does being illiterate! You Say N'Sync, I say NKOTB. You Say perfect ten, I say fine dime. You Say prodigy, I say Sexy Face. You Say chaos, I say correct (in theory). You Say chatroom, I say cyber-gossip. You Say PLURr, I say PLUR! You Say black and gold, I say bittersweet memories. You Say it's okay because he's Jay, I say Just J'ified! You Say god of parties and wine, I   say Dionysus. You Say B.C.E, I say B.C. You Say goodbye, I say LATER!