October 31, 2013 by 34th Street Magazine

DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT

YOU DID LAST NIGHT? oct. 31st, 2013 路 the alcohol issue

october 31 LOL

3 highbrow

2013

the round–up, word on the street, meh list, dispatch: butt chugging, ask miss cassandra

5 EGO

ego of the week, store your alcohol, five people you meet while drunk

LOL

8 MUSIC

bar music, halloween costumes not to wear, songs to drink to, reviews

11 feature blacking out

14 film & TV

b-roll, philly film festival reviews, netflix pick of the week west philly bars you don't go to, get drunk on candy, sneaky drankin'

LOL

Eighty–seven years ago today, Harry Houdini performed his final escape act: falling victim to a ruptured appendix, the famed illusionist disappeared from the world forever. Legend has it that days earlier, Houdini had taken on a challenge from a Canadian student at McGill. The student had heard tell of Houdini’s allegedly rocklike abdominals, and wanted to punch them repeatedly, as hard as he could. Houdini said yes. Alcohol is a lot like magic. Under its spell, you can in a matter of moments become the person you dream about being: an affable conversationalist, readier to dance on tables, playful crawling into bed. If you’re willing, the world around you can turn similarly fantastic—the bass on your favorite

song drops inside you, the crisis of the individual dissipates on the dancefloor. Eventually, the taste of ethanol turns drinkable, likeable even. It’s one of the world’s greatest feelings. As Houdini was with magic, each of us is exceptional. And, as Houdini had on October 31, 1926, each of us has moments when we overestimate our strength, or become enraptured by whatever exists between here and its limits. This is the Alcohol Issue, the first ever, and like a shot of 80 proof, it can be taken all kinds of ways. Read Highbrow for what happened (pg. 3), F&D for how to ingest (pg. 16–18) and the feature for what might (pg. 11). Happy Halloween, Houdini.

Street's First Ever Alcohol Issue + All Hallow's Eve

16 FOOD & dRINK

LOL

FROMtheEDITOR

influence

= MOTHAFKIN'

19 arts

philly first person arts festival, storytelling tips, contrapposto: the singh center

22 lowbrow

WRITERS MEETING

typical lowbrow pitch meeting at smoke's

24 backpage

alcohol across america

Tonight @ 6:30 4015 'Nut, Second Floor

34th Street Magazine Nina Wolpow, Vodka Tonic with Ketel One Sam Brodey, PBR (no foam) Alex Hosenball, Warm Sake Chloe Bower, Franzia from a Nalgene Sarah Tse, The Blood of Innocents Olivia Fingerhood, Double Fisted Beer/Banker's Margot Halpern, Purple Drank Zacchiaus McKee, Cosmo Alex Sternlicht, Jungle Juice Faryn Pearl, The Highball Mariam Mahbob, The Toast Marley Coyne, A Beer 2

Ryan Zahalka, Moonshine Michelle Ma, A Goblet of Mead Michael Shostek, Organic Craft Brew Isabel Oliveres, Copa Margarita Patrick Ford-Matz, Dragonberry Bacardi (chilled) Ariela Osuna, Distrito Margarita Cassandra Kyriazis, Blarney Fishbowl Gina DeCagna, A Nice Merlot Madeleine Wattenbarger, Absinthe Zach Tomasavic, Pimms Cup Michael Kandel, Jaeger Bombs Gabe Morales, 1% Milk Randi Kramer, 2% Milk

3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3

Emma Soren, Strawberry Milk Emily Marcus, Chocolate Milk Patrick Del Valle, Meth

Contacting 34th Street Magazine: If you have questions, comments, complaints or letters to the editor, email Nina Wolpow, Editor-–in–Chief, at wolpow@34st.com. You can also call us at (215) 8986585. To place an ad, call (215) 898-6581.

Cover design: Chloe Bower BACKPAGE DESIGN: Byrne Fahey

Visit our web site: www.34st.com

Contributors: Johnathan Wilson, Rosa Escandon, Emily Grabultz, Katherine Hartman, Justin Sheen, Jennifer Yu, Marycate Muschett, Yuqi Zhu, Casey Quackenbush, Alyssa Berlin, Morgan Pearlman, Anna Rosenfeld

"She totally misrepresented me. I don't long to stay anywhere" ©2013 34th Street Magazine, The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the express, written consent of the editors (but I bet we will give you the a-okay.) All rights reserved. 34th Street Magazine is published by The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc., 4015 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19104, every Thursday.

HIGHBROW

wordonthestreet

THE MEH LIST: HALLOWEEN EDITION 1. 1. Sexy cat costumes 2. Fun–sized candy bars 3. Zombie make up 4. Food dyed orange and black 5. Poorly decorated college house lobbies 6. Flavored Tootsie Rolls 7. Couples costumes 8. Halloween movie marathons on 7. ABC Family 9. YouTube make up tutorials 10. Amy Gutmann’s Halloween party

THINGS YOU CAN'T BLACK OUT

ANONYMOUS

THEROUNDUP Trick–or–treat, lovelies! Actually, you don’t have to pick, because Highbrow has a real treat this ’Ween. We’re bringing you the most sticky, melt– in–your mouth, chocolatey, juicy gossip on the block. But you can’t trick Highbrow. We see through your sexy–kitty whiskers. If she only had a brain. One drunk Dorothy–esque AXO found herself alone in a corn maze with only scarecrows for company. The frightened sister did what any self–sufficient college sophomore would do: she called her parents crying, telling them she was scared and needed them to pick her up. However, the sororo–crow forgot to mention to her parents that she was in corn maze. In New Jersey. Unfortunately, the corn–cerned parents drove all the way to her apartment at Penn. There’s no place like home. It’s been way too long since our nocturnal friends have graced the Round Up. But no fear, the night is here. Last weekend at the OWLS funky sweater party, two Tridelts and one Theta tried to get a little funked–up. Although fall has only just begun, it seems as though the girls tried to create their own winter wonderland by bringing their own snow. The trio was caught white–handed in the bathroom, snorting cocaine. Luckily, they only have to pay $150 each to get the lines off their permanent records. What happens in Camden stays in Camden. And another story about Oz and freshman girls. A small group of girls was hanging out in an Oz brother’s bedroom. After one too many glasses of spiked Manischewitz, a freshman girl shouted to the room, “Raise your hand if you’re Jewish!” After finding hers the only hand in the air, the girl alleviated her loneliness by hooking up with another freshman girl in the brother’s bed. The brothers looked on to the hook up fondly. Raise your hand if you think this is creepy. Just because the Mask and Wig show is over doesn’t mean they can’t steal the spotlight. Pregaming the Bloomers show too aggressively, a Mask and Wig freshman found he needed to puke. The freshman ran out of the show and into the bustling men’s room. Unable to locate an empty toilet, the boy unceremoniously yacked in an innocent bystanders urinal… and all over the guy’s dick and shoes. Talk about a State of Confucian.

10.

over heard PENN at

Girl discussing Halloween costume: We should just be tribal people. But, like, without being racist. Guy in JWST–150: I’m pretty sure sector requirements exist solely to keep the Jewish Studies department alive. Girl on Locust: Do you ever feel like you’re one of the Olsen twins, and the other one’s dead? Smoke’s bouncer: There’s a one dollar cover. Penn kid: But it’s the ninth anniversary of my bar mitzvah. Girl at Tap House: All I want to do is be his friend, but he is texting me back, like, way too fast.

“Mommy’s on the floor and she won’t get up.” Normally, I’d be mad at my sister for interrupting my homework, but on an otherwise regular Wednesday night of my junior year of high school, I knew that her tear–stained cheeks and panicked words overrode the importance of my A.P. US History class. I’ve dealt with my mom’s alcoholism for as long as I can remember. I’d grown accustomed to the routine: glasses of red wine before, during and after dinner. Then she’d yell at me and my brother and sister, sentencing us to bed at around 7:30. Then I’d tell my siblings that its ok, “Mommy’s just had a little too much to drink.” Then I’d do my homework and try to forget all about it until the next night, when the whole cycle would start over again. That Wednesday night, when I walked into the kitchen with my sister, I found my mom lying with her head and her torso twisted around one of the kitchen table legs. As usual, my dad was not home so I called the ambulance myself. My sister knelt in the corner of the kitchen hysterically praying and I held my mother’s tiny wrist, making sure she still had a pulse. I prayed too. Selfishly, I wasn’t praying for her health, I prayed that she'd had a seizure, a heart attack, a stroke. I prayed that it wasn’t alcohol that had put her under the table. I prayed that the AA meetings she’d begun attending a few months ago had actually led her to sobriety. But I knew, I knew, she was lying there because of alcohol—vodka, I’d learn later. Enough to bring her to a .38 Blood Alcohol Content. Enough to lead a petite woman like my mom to imminent death, which was her intent. After that night, my mother spent a month in rehab and has been attending AA meetings twice a day. She’s been sober for four years. But I haven’t been. I’m a college student. My social life revolves around alcohol. Drinking is inescapable. And honestly, I don’t want to escape it. But as I let the Banker’s singe the back of my throat, am I destining myself to become like my mother? More than anything, I’m scared that I’m going to follow the same fate, drowning life’s hardships in alcohol. In ten years, I don’t know whether I’ll find myself at the head of a boardroom table or whether my children will find me passed out under our kitchen table. And that scares the shit out of me. All I can do is remember and let those memories guide me. As I tip back a red solo cup, letting the vodka burn my chapped lips, I know that there are some things I will never be able to black out. I know that there is more for me than the seven types of alcohol in a Blarney Long Island. I know I am not my mother. O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E

HIGHBROW

DISPATCH: BUTT CHUGGING 10:01 p.m.: Supplies: Beer, check. Vodka, check. Funnel, check. Butt, check. 10:07 p.m.: Lock myself in the bathroom and turn on the shower to hide what I’m doing from my roommates. I hope I don’t die naked with a funnel in my ass. 10:10 p.m.: Try to do a headstand. This funnel is not working out. Need to do some recalculating. 10:13 p.m.: Walk to Fresh Grocer to buy an enema. I’m nothing if not committed. 10:31 p.m.: Beer–filled enema in hand, I check out the Internet for butt–chugging tips. 10:32 p.m.: That Buzzfeed article sucked. YouTube videos are better. 10:33 p.m.: There are so many videos. These guys

can’t be straight. This is like watching some weird gay fetish porn. 10:34 p.m.: Oh my God, a whole bottle of wine was just poured into that dude’s asshole. 10:36 p.m.: Let’s do this. Lube up the enema, insert and squeeze. This feels strange. 10:39 p.m.: How long until I’m supposed to feel something? Am I doing too much? Nah, that guy took an entire bottle of wine. 10:41 p.m.: Start the wine enema. Franzia’s cheap price is worth it when you don’t taste it. 10:42 p.m.: Feeling tipsy, and I’ve only ingested the equivalent of, like, half a beer and a glass of wine. Fuck— if this weren’t so damn complicated, I’d get drunk like this every weekend.

10:55 p.m.: “Dude, you’ve been in the bathroom for, like, 40 minutes. What are you doing in there?” My roommates are onto me. 10:56 p.m.: “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” 10:59 p.m.: Ok, time for the big one, double vodka shot. Prepare the enema bottle. 11:00 p.m.: Not a good idea, this one burns. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Immediately release it into the toilet. 11:07 p.m.: One more wine enema, and I’m done. My butthole has had enough action for one night. 11:18 p.m.: At least I’ll be prepared for my next colonic. Get dressed and feel myself about to black out. 1:30 a.m.: Black back in. Not the first time I was drunk off my ass.

Dear Miss Cassandra, my friends really want me to get a fake ID so I can go to bars with them, but I’m kind of nervous because I know it’s a pretty serious crime. They say that if I use my real name, it is not a serious crime. Is that true? Now, Miss Cass is no lawyer, but I have taken the bar enough times to know a thing or two about drinking. Getting a fake ID can be risky—you’re right about that. According to Pennsylvania law, on first offense, getting caught with a fake ID of any kind will end in a $300 dollar fine. This being said, ask anyone who’s gotten a fake taken at Blarney, and you’ll realize that fines rarely happen around Penn’s campus. This doesn’t mean that you should necessarily get one, but it does show that Pennsylvania law doesn’t always have the strongest presence inside the Penn bubble. Most bars will not call the cops and will just take the ID instead. As for the naming question, your friends are getting at something real here, but it’s not entirely true. Having a fake is always a crime,

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and, depending on the state, it can have serious consequences. However, the type of fake you have can result in different sentencing. In Pennsylvania, you will be breaking one of two laws: Misrepresentation of age to secure liquor or malt or brewed beverages (18 PA CSA §6307) and/or carrying a false identification card (18 PA CSA §6310.3). Both have basically the same consequences. Misrepresentation includes using or possessing another person’s ID who is of legal age or using or possessing an ID with false age, name and/or birth date information. False identification includes using or possessing another person’s ID who is of legal age or using or possessing an ID with false age, name and/or birthday. In PA, if it’s fake, it’s fake, and you will be paying if you get caught (but that’s always a big if).

I consider myself a feminist, but I love it when guys cum on my face. A lot. I feel like I shouldn’t like it. Am I a bad feminist? Sweetie, you are the furthest thing from a bad feminist. You’re a cum slut. And a feminist. Own it. There’s nothing intrinsically degrading about getting a nice load to the face. If your boyfriend wanted to give you a facial, and you complied even though you didn’t want to, then we’d have a problem. But this isn’t about a male controlling you, and there’s nothing more feminist than doing whatever the fuck you want with your body. So take all the loads to the face you want, honey. I’ll be next in line. Submit your questions to Miss Cassandra anonymously using our tumblr, askmisscass.tumblr. com/ask.

EGO

9 WAYS TO STOCK YOUR ROOM

Unfortunately, the average Penn student’s room does not contain a bar. So, where can you put all those bottles? Take note of the nine best places to put the alcohol that’s not already in your stomach.

1 2 3

Water Bottles Maybe the most obvious trick in the book, but a good and effective one nonetheless. Vodka works well in plastic water bottles. For darker drinks use an opaque, reusable bottle. Then, pop the bottles in your fridge or freezer. Easy and eco–friendly! Shoes The weather in Philly is getting shitty. Time to break out your Uggs. When they’re not busy warming or protecting your feet, these tall boots are a great place to stash alcohol. Recommended for use with beer or anything in a thin glass bottle (think Smirnoff Ice, Ciroc, Mike’s Hard, etc.), which are easier to fit. Airplane Bottles Some of you have rooms that are ridiculously small and every inch of space is already being used. If all else fails, invest in the mini–size bottles of liquor. Although less fun to get drunk with, they are very easy to stash almost anywhere.

4 5 6

Behind your Desk Most of the desks found in Penn dorms have some hidden space in between them and the wall. Putting your alcohol in this space is pretty simple, however slightly risky. Warning: all your computer wires and power strips are likely down there, so make sure nothing spills. Suitcase You know that suitcase or duffle bag you used to travel during fall break? It probably won’t be used again until Thanksgiving, so you might as well put alcohol in it. Just remember to take the leftover drinks out before trying to get on a plane! Binders Place the bottle of alcohol on a shelf, and then cover that bottle with an empty binder. Two inch and firmer binders probably work best. School supplies have never been so useful!

7 8 9

Pillows If you have a lot of pillows on your bed, throw a bottle or two in a pillowcase and put all your other pillows in front of it. This trick is better for short–term stashing, since it gets in the way of your bed's actual purpose. Sleep or alcohol: the Sophie’s choice for college students. Trash Can Yes, you can and should put full bottles of alcohol in your (preferably empty) trash or recycling bin. Hopefully the bin has a lid or is tall enough to conceal the bottles. If not, put some clean trash over it (like newspapers or plastic bags). Laundry Bag This one is pretty self–explanatory. Plus, yesterday’s dirty socks smell so bad, no one would ever willingly look there.

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O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E

EGO

egoof the weeK: MAXWELL PRESSER

Maxwell Presser is not just the “Chief Chief” of Sphinx—he’s the guy who might save your life this weekend. As the head of MERT, Maxwell has your health in mind. Just please don’t call him Max. Street: Who are you, and what do you do on campus? Maxwell Presser: My name is Maxwell Jonathan Presser— and I say that whole thing for a reason. I’m a senior in the college, and I’m majoring in Health and Societies, minoring in Korean language. I’m pre– med, I’m a Benjamin Franklin Scholar, and I’ll be graduating with fifty credits… so I’m really all over the place right now!

When I was six months old my mom said, “I don’t like the name ‘Jonathan.’” So she had my name legally changed to “Max Jonathan Presser.” So I grow up, and I’m 16 years old, and I’m at my brother’s college graduation, and they’re announcing all the doctors. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor and I thought that “Dr. Max” sounded stupid. So I had my name legally changed a second time to “Maxwell Jonathan Presser.” It gets complicated. Street: Okay, so why are you But Maxwell is my formal name. “Maxwell Jonathan Presser”? MP: My legal name is “Max- Street: What’s your least healthy well Jonathan Presser,” but habit? when I was born my name was MP: Probably eating. I prob“Jonathan Maxwell Presser.” ably eat Chipotle and Greek

Lady one–and–a–half times per day? Then every once in a while I panic because I realize I haven’t touched a vegetable or a fruit in four days, four weeks. You never really know. Street: You’re known in Sphinx as “Chief Chief.” What fictional or real leader do you align most with? MP: I would say Scooby Doo. There’s always something going on and he always figures out what’s going. There’s a lot of stuff going on in this school, and in this world, and I wanna figure out how to get to the bottom of it. Also, I could literally eat 40 packs of those gummy Scooby Snacks. Street: Who’s your alter ego? MP: I would definitely be a Korean pop star. It’s the hair. And the smile.

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Street: What does MERT stand for? MP: The Medical Emergency Response Team. Street: What else could MERT stand for? MP: Hmmm... Messy Eaters Reviving Twerkers? Street: What’s your theme song? MP: Maybe a little Avril, maybe some Nine Inch Nails… I’m a little angsty underneath. It’s a little angry, but it’s okay to be angry. It’s okay. Street: There are two kinds of people at Penn… MP: Those who talk and those who do. Because I hate talking, but, most of the time, I want to actually do. And I want other people to do that, too. Stop talking and just do it.

Street: What’s your secret talent? MP: One of my friends at camp used to be able to stick spaghetti up his nose and cough it up out of his mouth, and he taught me how. You just have to lick it a little bit, and snort it up your nose, and cough a little—it comes right out. Street: My PennCard looks like _______. MP: Naked. Well, my card looks naked. I swipe in the quad all the time and it took off all the film. Street: You’re also a CPR instructor. If you could give mouth to mouth resuscitation to anyone, who would it be? MP: This has actually come up before in other interviews. Megan Fox just because, imagine how she even got into that situation. It’s going to be so absurd. Street: What’s your spirit animal? MP: A sparrow. My duckface is notorious—snapchat would take hours out of my day… literally. But there’s a new duckface that’s all the rage in Japan—it’s called “The Sparrow.” You have to open your eyes really big and open your mouth a tiny bit, like you’re waiting for your mommy bird to feed you a worm. It’s the new rage. It’s coming. Street: On any given night during Halloween, how many calls does MERT get? MP: A lot. A lot. Probably around 10 for each of the weekend nights.

Street: What’s your costume this year? MP: I’m going to be an ass– tronaut. “A” double “s.” Street: What are your safety tips for Penn students over Halloween? MP: Wear shoes you can walk in. Because if you fall, that’s no good. On the same note, keep your shoes on. No one likes glass in their foot. Also, don’t take candy from strangers. Trick–or– treat safely everyone!

THE FIVE PEOPLE YOU’LL MEET WHEN DRUNK

1 2 3 4 5

EGO

The Crier She has a paper due tomorrow, and she’s homesick, and her dog died three years ago. It doesn’t matter how great the night is: once the shots start coming, so do the tears.

Mr. Touchy–Feely At first it was kind of flattering. Then it was a little much. Now a restraining order might be necessary.

Your BFFAEAEAE She could be your real best friend or some girl you met that same night, but she will let you, and everyone else around, know that you are “literalllllllllly her best friend, like everrrrrr.” But tomorrow on Locust? Not even a smile.

The Too Drunk to Function It’s an obvious one for a reason; we all know her. She wakes up, maybe in her own bed (maybe not), with little memory of the night and… is that a phone number on her hand or her shot tally?

The Angry Drunk Undoubtedly the least popular member of the group, no one wants to be subjected to his stream of profane texts, or worse, actual shouting. ARTICLE BY ANNA ROSENFIELD ILLUSTRATIONS BY FARYN PEARL

/Distrito.PHL

@DistritoPHL O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E

MUSIC

THE MUSIC OF PENN’S BARS: COPA CANCIONES The quality of a bar’s music can make or break a night out—plan your itinerary accordingly.

City Tap House

Smokey Joe's

Blarney Stone

Copabanana

Tap House seems to think of itself as the classiest of Penn bars and its music selection reflects that. Indie and alt rock dominate Tap’s playlists, which fit the chill vibe of the establishment. Where Tap really thrives is in its live music offerings. Every weekend, a band will set up shop in a corner near the balcony entrance and soundtrack the tipsy musings of the Tap crowd. Often it’s a local cover band, but they’ve been known to venture into bluegrass territory every now and again, which may earn it the title of Penn’s classiest bar—at least musically.

Smoke’s weekly music lineup almost always features live music, usually from Philly rock heavyweight Kenn Kweder or a local DJ. Kweder is a Smoke’s staple on Tuesday and his live show guarantees an on–point mixture of classic covers like “Brown Eyed Girl” and Kweder originals (“Heroin,” anyone?). The weekend DJs deliver perfectly danceable tunes, despite some occasional choppy transitions. But it’s mostly standard fare and by the time anybody gets to Smoke’s, they’re usually too drunk to remember what song they were dancing to anyway.

Blarney is a magical place where you can purchase seemingly bottomless fish bowls for under $20 and that special kind of atmosphere is only accentuated by its musical selections. The bass of Top 40 songs pound throughout the joint, and there’s sure to be a song for everyone to practice their karaoke skills. Special occasions call for DJs or particularly hilarious/pathetic bouts of karaoke and with each drink the music seems to get better and better. Blarn’s music caters to the essence of its environment; the drunker the patron, the better the experience.

The mecca of margaritas likes to keep its guests guessing with playlists that range from traditional Latin tunes to 1960s throwbacks. They’ll occasionally throw in a Top 40 hit, but stick to more classic songs until the rowdy 1 a.m. crowds. At that point, it becomes a reggaeton free–for– all—LA CABEZA, DANZA KUDURO!

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MUSIC

COSTUMES EVEN WORSE THAN MILEY

You might think these costumes are cool and clever, but you should think again before donning them for this Halloween’s party crawl.

Björk at Bonnaroo:

Any member of Slipknot:

No one was entirely sure exactly what Björk was at this year’s Bonnaroo. She donned a headdress made of long, transparent, blue spikes that covered the whole of her face, as well as a lumpy, metallic and cream–colored dress. The stage’s screens did not display her singing, so fans could only attempt to make out what she wearing from a few hundred feet away. If you go out as Björk this Halloween, people will undoubtedly be staring at your costume in a confused manner and keeping their distance.

If your only goal is to absolutely petrify every single person you see out, dress as any member of Slipknot. There’s enough room in the band that your whole friend group can go out together! If you’d actually like to meet other people or attract anyone this Halloween, try another route.

Drake: Drake seems like a great idea at first: don an ugly sweater and a tasteful gold chain, maybe a yarmulke to holla at his Jewish background, and you are unmistakeably the hip–hop superstar. Except that it’s not a complete Drake costume unless you vow to make “no new friends.” That means you would be betraying your costume if you spoke to anyone new while out this Hallow’s Eve. Actually, is this the best costume ever?

Macklemore: Going out as Macklemore on Halloween is seemingly foolproof. Your fur coat keeps you warm in the elements of a harsh Philly autumn, your costume’s not too tiring to assemble once you do have the coat, and you’ll feel a personal connection to the party every time “Can’t Hold Us” or “Thrift Shop” comes on. And this is the same logic every other dress–up Macklemore will have used to reason his or her costume choice. But if commonality doesn’t get to you, then maybe realizing the next day that you lost your fur coat once the party got sweaty, and that you still have that haircut, will.

MARYCATE MUSCHETT

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MUSIC

ALBUM REVIEWS

"NO BLUES" Los Campesinos! “No Blues” is the fifth studio album by the Welsh indie rock group Los Campesinos! The album sort of sounds like one long 42–minute song, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The first track, “For Flotsam,” is synthy and guitar–laden and establishes that Los Campesinos! have not lost their lyrical prowess. The next five songs are as strong as the first, especially with the catchy “The Portrait of the Trequartista As A Young Man” (the name is slightly less catchy) and the lyrically powerful “As Lucerne/The Low.” But like a lot of good–but–not–great albums, the momentum begins to fall after the halfway mark up until the brilliant finale “Selling Rope (Swan Dive To Estuary).” Still, this is a solid project and a definite listen for any indie pop fan. MARK PARASKEVAS Grade: B Download: “Lucerne/The Low” Sounds best when: Looking up the definition of the word “Trequartista.”

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"REFLEKTOR" Arcade Fire

"Reflektor," Arcade Fire's fourth album, has been hugely hyped—and while it's not an instant classic, it satisfies. Over the course of its 80 minutes, “Reflektor” demonstrates Arcade Fire’s ability to provide something both unexpected and rewarding. The title track gives listeners what they would have expected from a James Murphy–produced, Haitian–influenced album: Caribbean rhythms and a stomping bassline. But each subsequent song works to subvert those expectations, mostly with success. “Here Comes the Night Time” rapidly zigzags between modern and traditional influences before finally breaking into a cacophonous climax that elegantly blends the two. Penultimate track “Afterlife” works as a life–affirming anthem, rich with Caribbean drumming and skittering synths. But all these varied ideas are collected under frontman Win Butler’s breathy lyrics that give a modern, sensitive twist to the legend of Orpheus. While the album’s first half is a little listless and unfocused, “Reflektor” is still another triumph that brings together numerous concepts with great success. YUQI ZHU Grade: A– Download: “Afterlife” Sounds best when: You crave celebratory dance music that deviates from bland EDM fare.

SONGS TO DRINK TO Honestly, how many times can you play “Never Have I Never”? These songs get the drinking going for you instead. “Shots” By LMFAO Expanding on this is already superfluous. “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC An underrated drinking game best with cheap beer—playing Thunder involves sitting in a circle. The first person starts to drink the first time AC/DC shouts “thunder,” they stop the next time the word is sung, which is when the next person starts to drink. The process continues. Some people get caught drinking for a while, some people don’t, all enjoy themselves.

“Tequila” by the Champs You’ve known this jazzy tune all your life but never realized the periodic shouts of “Tequila” throughout. Now that you know that, you can appropriately take a shot everytime they shout it while you listen.

“Blame It” by Jamie Foxx Grace Church is a multi-ethnic community of rich and poor, undergrads and PhDs, blue-collars and no-collars, Americans and internationals, all united by the good message of Jesus.

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In what is possibly the anthem of American youth, Jamie Foxx stutters the word “alcohol” to get the whole room ready to go bottoms up. Have Grey Goose, Patron, Hennessy and Nuvo on hand— when Jamie calls, you drink.

F E AT U R E

Good morning. Someone turned on the lights, your dry mouth is insufferable and you are asked to eat a granola bar. You are not going to do that. You’re nauseated. There is a little man in your brain with a fine–tuned hammer. You have been here before, you’re sure of it, though the bed sheets are whiter this time and the only surface that smells like alcohol is your tongue.

Hey sunshine,

welcome to the ER. By Nina Wolpow O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 1

F E AT U R E

30.1% Rarely

ere is the good news: you are going to be discharged shortly. Even if you’re 17, the doctors won’t call your parents—doing so would be illegal—so you will be free to put your shoes on (assuming you still have them) and take yourself home. The consequences aren’t immediately real. You survived, you didn’t know what was happening and you’re not in high school anymore. It’s a normal Sunday morning and you are hungover as fuck. Do you really want to know what you did last night? Whether you chose microbrew or Banker's, you drugged yourself at first sip. Alcohol is a vicious stimulant, which, According to Max Kelz, an as-

71.1% YES

70 60 50 40 30

F E AT U R E

28.9% NO

20 10 0

Have you ever blacked out during a night of drinking?

sistant professor of anesthesiology and critical care at Penn Med, is also highly promiscuous. That’s a laughable but scientifically–approved way of saying that, as opposed to drugs like morphine and heroin, which target a small number of specific receptors, alcohol floods a much wider array of targets. From neurons to enzymes and lipids, it permeates the signaling systems in your brain to make you “black out.” Hard drugs are picky, while alcohol is a neurological slut. Under your hair, scalp and skull, your brain is composed of neurons, which conduct electrical and chemical communication; glial cells, which protect the neurons; and blood vessels, which transport blood. While you walk and talk and breathe, your central nervous system works to synchronize the voluntary and involuntary actions responsible for the state

we know as “alive.” Within this system, neurotransmitters, like the one known as gamma–aminobutyric acid (GABA) function by inhibiting receptors, making them less likely to transmit information from one neuron to another. This action—or inaction—is a neurobiological signal. To a certain extent, this kind of in–brain inhibition is normal. As Dr. Kelz explains it, communication between neurons in the brain is like a phone call made from one friend to another. If your friend picks up on the other line, you will get one message. If she doesn’t, you’ll get another. When you black out, however, your brain reaches a critical mass of inhibitory effects and normally transitive impulses like daily thought and awareness are cut off. Whether you like it or not, your brain is dialing desperately, you’re just so drunk that you’re screening its calls. In addition, memory is obliterated. A story told to you that night at 10:30 will be purged by 10:32. Everyone knows that NSO is marketed as blackout initiation. “I remember my first time,” you’ll say senior year. In between August 25 and September 5 of 2012, 30 students were hospitalized for blacking out or something close to it. It happens a lot, and when you’re underage, with little perception of your limits and high expectations for the contents of solo cups, it might not be totally your fault. Three years later, it kind of is. At a mixer on Spruce Street two weekends ago, a junior in costume has planned to black out. The party isn’t packed, but the music is good and bottles are open at the bar. Some kids—mostly older ones—are upstairs smoking joints or doing lines, hanging out and playing video games until the party reaches its peak and becomes fun enough to attend. They’ve been drunk for a while. It was a day of beer pong outside and a boozy dinner at Tap House. Girls are arriving and Friday is welcome after a week of work or sports practices or social anxiety. Handle pulls are in order.

“I have a wide–developed blackout personality,” the junior fraternity member explains. A few drinks deep, his cheeks are already rosy. “I feel like I’m experienced. I think experienced people who blackout are not just going to blackout immediately—they can sort of hold their blackout for a long period of time and generally just not puke, because puking… ruins it. It puts you right to bed.” There is a concept Urban Dictionary calls the “Morality hangover.” It is defined as “the sickening feeling you wake up with when you have partied too hard the night before. Regretting the crazy thing[s] you did last night and feeling very bad about yourself.” If he has outgrown puking, has regret faded, too? Or, head pounding, does he ever wake up sorry? “All the time,” he says. “The worst is when you don’t wake up in your house and you don’t know where you are.” The idea that physiological blackouts are a cultural derivative of generation Y’s fixation on college partying is a myth. Dr. Charles O’Brien, Penn’s Vice Chair of Psychiatry and the director of the Center for Studies in Addiction, says so. “Since the very first early human being realized that wine—fermented grapes—tasted good and it made them feel a little bit of a buzz they were already having blackouts," he explains. Dr. O’Brien is one of the leading researchers of drug addiction and advocates for its implementation in medical school curricula. After returning from Vietnam, spurred by scenes of rampant substance abuse, he found his way to Penn. Now, he is helping Penn’s Office of Alcohol and Drug

Program Initiatives in its year–long exploration of alcohol and memory, or, as its organizers put it on their posters, “Alcohol: it’s a science.” Of course, Dr. O’Brien’s historical reference does not negate his opinion that blacking out is a problem. He’s just saying we didn’t start it. What we have started, though, is a sort of topping–off process. When Penn’s administration began to proactively address its student body’s drinking culture in the 1990s, heavy drinking meant ingesting five drinks in one sitting. Now, the standard is 10 or 12, which is way more than it takes the average 18– to 22–year–old to black out. Our hangovers and hospitaliza-

80 70

76.1% no

60 50 40 30 20 10

23.9% yes

Have you ever gone out drinking with the goal of blacking out?

tions, therefore, are exacerbated not only by our desire to escape by way of blackout, but by our propensity for impulsive risk–taking, too. If you think everyone is doing it, you’re lying to yourself. In a ’70s style conference room in Chestnut Hall, a group of doctors (including Dr. O’Brien), post–docs, fellows and members of Penn’s alcohol–and–other–drugs bureaucracy have gathered to hear University of Maryland's Dr. Amelia Arria give a talk on unnecessary consumption: our problem. Dr. Arria’s Powerpoint, entitled “Substance Abuse: Academic Outcomes,” is the result of an attempt to track collegiate heavy drinkers into their thirties. A graph appears on the projection screen: it’s a list of reasons students have cited for their poor academic performances, for the drops in GPAs that are endemic as year one turns into two and so on in a four–year college experience. Stress appears. So does anxiety, cold, flu and internet use. Alcohol—anything in the family of alcohol—is absent. The morning after a senior society

initiation, a group of six girls—five of whom were accepted early decision to Penn four years ago—are splayed in one’s room, a few on the bed, some on the floor with an almost–killed six–pack of 9.5% ABV beers. Three of them had blacked out the night before—they remember nothing, even when prompted to do so. It’s not their first rodeo: food’s been ordered, epic tales of nude awakenings have been told, Blowfish (a condensed form of caffeine and aspirin you dissolve a la alka seltzer) has been taken from a stockpile downstairs. There’s school tomorrow. Work will get done, but obviously not right now. “I cannot handle peer pressure.” “I’m an opportunist.” “FOMO—it’s drinking with my friends.” “It’s definitely a social thing.” “I would never ever drink alone.” “Honestly, I think it’s a problem with our parents’ generation that they like to blame everything on us. It’s like—you raised us,” someone says. Everyone laughs. “You are so fucked up,” someone responds. Nationally, graduation rates are just about 50%. This isn’t the case at Penn, but it’s also a convenient metric for overestimating our success. Goal attenuation—a major theme in Dr. Arria’s presentation—is a better one. It’s the idea that, while you might graduate, you won’t toss your hat on College Green having accomplished what you came here to do. Possible courses of action following goal–setting are generally quadrisected. We tend to follow through, develop or attenuate—to reduce the force or value of our goals, making it easier to digest that we’ve come up short. The final option is diffusion, complete goal abandonment. The students at Penn who blackout—and not all of them do—will attenuate. “Over time, the [neurobiological] rewards of academic achievement can be replaced with the temporary rewards of intoxication,” a May 2013 report from Maryland’s Center on Young Adult Health and Development reads. Our self–identified rationales have confirmed our denial—in

34.1% Once or twice a semester

7.9% At least once a week

27.9% once or twice per month

What best describes how often you have blacked out?

blacking out, in poisoning the brain cells created 20 years ago in love or lust or opportunity, we create black holes in the world, too. We have replaced the straight–A butterflies with the dependability of lowered expectations—don’t shoot so high and you’ll miss less often. Dr. Arria and others are determined to correct our impotency. “I guess that’s your job, to connect the dots for them,” Dr. Arria says to the members of the Office of Alcohol and Other Drugs, who nod slowly, as if handed the stone tablets of intervention, a quest now validated by authority. On the far side of the room, a woman who will later suggest a campus–wide ban on alcohol chortles. The bowels of HUP’s emergency department are not a place you want to be sober. It’s hard to find a paramedic—they’re tied up with trauma, carrying igloos full of blood, checking the vital signs of a young helmeted motorcyclist who was struck by a car. In the middle of the night, when limp Penn students are delivered to them via stretcher, these paramedics aren’t any freer. Still, they’re taken off the job to, as Jimmy Pisaturo, a veteran of the Emergency Department says, “babysit DPSs”—ER lingo for Drunk Penn Students. Sometimes they go as far as to intubate them in an effort to save their lives. “They poop, pee, mess themselves up,” Jimmy explains, “then they ask for different clothes. We tell them, ‘Too Bad. You did this to yourself.’” Outside, a younger paramedic climbs down from his ambulance. No longer on the night shift, he’s resting in between calls. “You wanna

be nice to them,” he recalls, “but they’re treating you like shit and puking all over your ambulance.” (Penn's Division of Public Safety declined to provide data on the number of alcohol related transports per year). His coworker hears and joins in. “Other colleges in the city don’t do this. For every ten calls we get from Penn we get Drexel once. That’s basically all our job has become is a fuckin’ liability mom for society.” It’s a suitable analogy with a fatal catch: when you leave the hospital, the medics and your blackout far away, you are back in charge. Key in the door, vomit–stained clothes off, shower scorching: you’re home. Van Pelt won’t feel good, but you’re going—you have to get it done. At a third floor carrel, Sunday afternoon turns into Sunday evening. You’ll write 1,500 words, or maybe just 1,300 until you turn in, take a melatonin and fall asleep, promising you’ll do better in the morning. Nina Wolpow is a senior studying English from Boston, MA. She is the Editor-in-Chief of 34th Street Magazine. 18.2% RELAXED

6.2% ANGRY

22.0% STRESSED

72.9% HAPPY

9.8% SAD

How would you describe your mood prior to blacking out? Survey data was collected over a period of 4 days with 519 respondents.

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O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 3

FILM & TV

Guilty Pleasure– “Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit”

Remember when they made a movie about Whoopi Goldberg as a nightclub–singer– turned–nun on the run from the mob and it was the greatest thing you had ever seen? Remember when they did it again? Based loosely on a true story, “Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit” combines gospel music, dancing nuns and the ever–amazing Maggie Smith (“Downton Abbey”) into one of those rare moments when the sequel is better than the original. The last time we saw Goldberg as Deloris van Cartier, she was singing for the pope at the end of “Sister Act.” No longer evading the mob and having accumulated widespread fame, Deloris returns to her job as a nightclub singer in Reno, Nevada. The sequel opens with the rest of the nuns (the ever–hilarious and spirited Sisters Mary Patrick, Mary Lazarus and Mary Robert)

asking Deloris to return to her position as Sister Mary Clarence and come join them as a music teacher at a languid, on–the–verge–of–closing school in San Francisco. Deloris agrees, without realizing her students—led by a pre–imprisoned Lauryn Hill—will be rowdy and uninterested in anything Deloris has to say. Through the power of music, Deloris unites the students into forming an all–state competitive choir, taking them all the way to the state championship, which they win—impressing the diocese representatives enough to keep their school open. In a testament to the power of gospel music, “Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit” is the definition of a feel–good movie. But it’s more than a quirky film staring Whoopi: the film was the launching point for careers like Lauryn Hill’s and Jennifer Love Hewitt’s, and its soundtrack is one of the most popular of all time. Gospel versions of Motown staples and R&B classics give the film its backbone, and Lauryn Hill’s unforgettable performance of “His Eye is on the Sparrow” can jerk tears even from cynics. A throwback to a time when hair scrunchies and neon pants were the norm, this movie will have you shouting, “Oh! Happy day.” Zacchiaus McKee

B-Roll: Blood & Guts for Film Buffs This past summer, I let my roommates convince me to do something quite uncharacteristic: watch a horror movie, “The Audition.” Somehow, boredom and curiosity beat out the overwhelming urge to turn on “American Idol” and watch those horrific auditions instead . One of the first horror movies I ever watched was “The Fourth Kind,” a mockumentary about alien abductions. While the movie terrified me during its actual runtime, once the lights came on, I realized how trite and melodramatic it was. After a few more horror movies, the quiet–quiet–loud formula I’d come to expect became dull, and I moved away from the genre. So, when I grudgingly turned off the lights and sat down to watch “The Audition” at 1 a.m., I wasn’t expecting very much. “The Audition” is a Japanese film that tells the story of Aoyama, a widower who decides to remarry with the help of his friend Yoshikawa. Together, they hold an audition for a fake film role, soliciting applications from hundreds of young women. Through this audition, Aoyama meets Asami, a beautiful, crippingly shy former ballet dancer with whom he quickly becomes enamored. The film follows the development of their relationship and the gradual revelation of Asami’s true character. The more desperately Aoyama pursues the secrets of her past, the creepier it becomes and the more futilely I yelled at him to run the fuck away. Unfortunately, Aoyama is just as trapped as the viewer, and he hurtles unwittingly toward the climactic final 15 minutes of the film. These minutes— which came after I had already entered a nearly catatonic state—are some of the few bloody ones in a film that has very little shock value. And yet I thought about it for weeks afterward. What makes “The Audition” is the director’s choice to place decidedly real issues at the center of the plot. Aoyama is drawn to Asami because she epitomizes the femininity valued by an oppressive, patriarchal society. Despite being the product of a horrifying past, her submissiveness is praised—prized, even—by the men in the film. But Aoyama himself isn’t abusive; he has simply internalized the belief that a good woman is one who keeps her head bowed, who never speaks out of turn or says no. The violence that results is terrifying because of how inevitable it feels—how could Aoyama, burdened by the expectations of society and his teenage son, act any differently? And how could Asami, caught in a sickening cycle of abuse, end up being anything other than stunningly psychotic? Good horror movies remain terrifying long after the lights come on and the characters fade out because they refuse to let us separate our world from the one on–screen. They are haunting because the horrors they portray are rooted in real life, where a button on a remote holds no more power than a desperate shout in an empty house when no one is there to hear you. “The Audition” is horrifying not because of the blood, or shock, or any other element typically associated with horror movies. The scariest of horror films, like “The Audition,” are frightening because they show the viewer a fundamentally flawed social construction and the calamity that results and then asks: Does this not look a lot like our world? Jennifer Yu

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FILM & TV

We interview "Let the Fire Burn" director Jason Odser. Only at 34st.com.

instant watch of the week

“Mar Adentro” (“The Sea Inside”)

Ramón Sampedro, played by a Javier Bardem, is a Spanish man who became a quadriplegic at age 25. He spent the next 29 years of his life fighting for his right to an assisted suicide. “Mar Adentro” (“The Sea Inside”) beautifully tells his amazing and true life story. Ramón was paralyzed from the neck down in a swimming accident. Every day afterwards, he wishes to end his life. But, as a quadriplegic, he is unable to commit suicide on his own. Ramón believes his life is not worth living and wishes to die with dignity, which he believes is his right as a human being. The film explores his relationship with his family, his lawyer Julia (Belén Rueda) and local girl Rosa (Lola Dueñas), who all have a place in Ramón’s life and opinions on his death wish. So many people love Ramón, but, ultimately, his only true love is death itself. The film alone is a stunning work of art, but what makes it even better is Sampedro’s incredible true story. He worked his way through the Spanish court system, petitioning for his right to die without anyone being penalized for assisting him, and, eventually, his case was taken to the UN Human Rights Committee and lead to a Senatorial Committee on Euthanasia in 1999. Don’t let the Spanish or the subtitles scare you away—this movie is worth the extra effort. In 2004, it won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film of the Year, and after watching you will definitely understand why. “Mar Adentro” is a brilliant look at the struggles of a quadriplegic and the controversial topic of euthanasia. Katherine Hartman

Review: “Let The Fire Burn” The first person we meet in Jason Osder’s in the film: the motives of the city officials, the documentary, “Let the Fire Burn,” is a young tension within the police force and the “Birdie” child introduced to us as Michael Moses Ward. that is still present within the “Michael” we meet We find out, however, that his name was once in the beginning of the movie. But the film never “Birdie Africa,” a moniker he held for his 13–year allows us to feel like the answers revealed are childhood with the radical organization known as complete. This incompleteness only adds to the MOVE. Following the order from Philadelphia realization by the end of the film that the fire is city officials to drop explosives onto the MOVE still burning. organization headquarters on Osage Avenue in Justin Sheen West Philadelphia during a 1985 eviction effort, Michael is introduced as “Michael,” not “Birdie.” His new name is supposed to be a symbol that the traumatic event which killed 11 MOVE members and led to an inferno that destroyed 61 neighboring houses is “over.” He’s expected to be a new person now. When a film about tragedy is made, sometimes it can feel as if the event has ended—that it was only a single occurrence from which we can move on once we step out of the theater. What “Let the Fire Burn” does differently is what director Jason Osder calls “view[ing] the past in the present tense.” With the use of archival footage, MCAT Ul,mate Course we’re not looking back at the events of the past; of live instruc2on we’re viewing! them105 as ifhours they’re still happening. ! 22 hours of verbal prep Grade: A Throughout the film, there is a feeling of !ultimately A team of brings 3 to 5 subject-‐ ma<er experts cer2fied to teach ndividual subjects Runtime: 95 imins. continuity that the incident See if you liked: “Law and Disorder in The most into office hours and reveals to us and hearings the present Philadelphia” that May 13, ! 1985 still over.office hours with your instructors to get your ques2ons answered, work 20 in-‐isn’t person Osder deftly reveals the various relationships through

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FOOD & DRINK

Have Your Drink and Eat it Too

Top off your buzz with a Halloween sugar rush that’d make any 10–year–old jealous. By Casey Quakenbush and Alyssa Berlin

Candy Corn Rum

Make That Lolli Pop

Nothing screams Halloween quite like sugary, stale candy corn. Try infusing your next rum drink with the sweet treats. Add two cups of rum to about two ounces of candy corn and let sit for 36 hours. Strain the candy corn from the rum. Now you’re left with two options: enjoy the sweet rum or the alcoholic candy. Maybe the candy corn will finally be soft enough to enjoy.

How many licks does it take to get to the drunk? Over low heat, combine two cups of granulated white sugar, 30 ml of gin and 125 ml of tonic water in a saucepan. When the sugar fully dissolves, bring the mixture to a broil (around 300° F) for 10 minutes, or until golden brown in color. Add three tablespoons of food coloring (optional). Pour into 12 lightly greased lollipop molds and press a lollipop stick into each. Let cool and serve.

Drunk Gummy Bears

M&M Shooters

There are few drinking buddies better than vodka–soaked gummy bears. Use the candy–stocked shelves of CVS to your advantage and make this delicious treat. Soak a bag of gummy bears in enough vodka to just cover them. Cover the bowl and place it in the fridge for 24 hours. Drain excess vodka and use for whatever you see fit.

Get that alcoholic buzz and satisfy your sugar rush, trick–or– treating unnecessary. Mix Kaluha liqueur with vanilla vodka, and add some Creme de Cocoa if you so choose. Stir together in a shooter glass and top with a dollop of whipped cream and a handful of M&Ms. Drunk never tasted this good.

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FOOD & DRINK

A STEP UP FROM YOUR SOLO CUP Because it’s only alcoholism when you drink straight from the bottle. By Morgan Pearlman

The Pocket Shot

Double fisting with nowhere to stick that extra shot? The solution: pocket shots. The pre–made, collapsible, plastic bags fit perfectly in your pocket and contain 50 mL of whiskey, rum, vodka or whatever else you see fit. Sneak ’em in, drink from the container or squirt them into a soda. Just make sure you don’t sit down with one in your back pocket.

SHOT ROULETTE

Bring a little bit of Vegas to your party by playing shot roulette. Surround the roulette wheel with shot glasses so that every round of roulette has a champion. If your shot glass corresponds to the number played, you’re the winner. Congratulations, you get a mouthful of Banker’s. Lucky you.

The Tie

Drinking on the job just got a lot easier, as did pregaming your OCR interviews. Fill your tie with a bag of alcohol, and drink from a hidden mouthpiece. It may not be Brooks Brothers, but don’t worry… the ties can be custom–made. And if that whole Merrill Lynch internship thing doesn’t work out, at least your old pal Franzia will be there to commisserate.

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BYO (wine only) NEW Gluten free pizza! Whole Wheat pizza! Soy Cheese and NO corkage fee

We all know someone who is planning on wearing that sexy nurse’s outfit this weekend—the one she bought at Party City in preparation for Halloween freshman year. Since their outfit is pretty predictable, tell your friend to invest in some needle shots. Use that sinusrinse syringe your mom packed you and play doctor by squirting vodka into people’s mouths. Or, better yet, use “as directed” and shoot alcohol up someone’s nose. It sounds disgusting (because it is), but it'll get you drunk a lot more quickly.

DIZZY BAT

This version of whiffle ball is slightly different than its middle school P.E. class equivalent and is perfect for all of you who have been waiting to relive your obstacle course glory days. Cut open a plastic whiffle ball bat, fill it with beer and chug. Next, crouch down and spin around the bat 5 times. At this point people play the game differently: some then pass a beer filled bat to a teammate, while others try to hit a beer can thrown at them. You pick.

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O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 17

FOOD & DRINK

BAR NONE: UNIVERSITY CITY’S BEST BARS THAT YOU’VE PROBABLY NEVER BEEN TO

Tap House is for shmoozing, Blarney’s is for athletes and Smoke’s is for Kweder. Go against the grain and get your booze fix elsewhere. By Marley Coyne and Cassandra Kyriazis

FIUME

DRINKER’S WEST

Location: 45th and Locust Streets, above Abyssinia Ethiopian restaurant Happy Hour: Unlisted Try: The citywide special (a cheap PBR and whiskey combo). In a Nutshell: Come as you are, but bring cash.

Fiume has a special rule at the bar that you are only allowed to order pre–prohibition drinks. Want a whiskey sour? Well, too bad, because that drink was created in the ’60s. Go for the gin–based Boulevardier instead. The cherry on top: on Thursday nights, a bluegrass band performs in the corner of the divey, living room–sized bar.

Location: 39th and Chestnut Streets Happy Hour: 5:00–7:00 p.m. Try: The $4 Soco and lime shots. And the fish tacos. In a Nutshell: Like hanging out in your best friend’s basemen, but bigger and with a better alcohol selection.

With its ping pong tables and flat screen TVs constantly playing different games, Drinker’s West knows what it is: a college bar. Though rarely a hub for Penn undergrads, Drinker’s clientele is young, fun and looking to blow off some steam. That change of pace can be a welcome one—made even sweeter by the remarkably low odds of bumping into last Wednesday’s Smoke’s DFMO.

LOCAL 44

Second Mile Center Thrift Store Making a costume? We’ve got the threads that’ll make your costume turn heads!

214 South 45th Street (Between Locust & Walnut) 215.662.1663 1 8 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3

Location: 44th and Spruce Streets Happy Hour: 5:00–7:00 p.m. with a special Bottle Shop happy hour on Mondays from 6:00–8:00 p.m. Try: One of the bottle beers (they carry over 500 different kinds). In a Nutshell: When keg beer won’t cut it, go Local.

Less for the coed and more for the connoisseur, Local 44 hosts a vast selection of beers that put Natty Light to shame. The atmosphere is laid back, as are its servers, and the Sunday night Quizzo is one of the best in the area. More than that, Local 44 is far enough off campus to escape Penn without having to hail a cab.

ARTS

Contrapposto:

Taking a Stance on THE KRISHNA P. SINGH CENTER FOR NANOTECHNOLOGY

Penn’s recently opened Krishna P. Singh Center for Nanotechnology, designed by Marion Weiss and Michael Manfredi, is an impressive structure. Standing on Walnut Street between 33rd and 32nd Streets, the building’s curtain wall glass facade beautifully reflects sunlight during the day and has an orange glow at night as it filters out UV light. The building’s deconstructivist shape resembles light boxes stacked in an L– formation. Its architectural sophistication is most evident in the floating cantilever facing Walnut Street, which seems to defy gravity, supported without the need for columns. Promising to bring the University into contemporary times, the Singh Center stands as a visually compelling piece of architecture that enriches the urban context on campus. The entrance pathway on 32nd and Walnut resembles a gateway and leads diagonally to the core of the Singh Center. The building’s location and orientation take a nod to the rest of the Engineering School. The top level enjoys one of the fullest views in all in University City. Housing the most advanced equipment for nanotechnology research, the Singh Center will combine resources of the College and SEAS in order to promote interdisciplinary research. While the Singh Center stands as an architectural landmark on Penn’s campus and

in the city of Philadelphia, its inconsistency with the rest of Penn's structures is a strong drawback. The buildings that dot the landscape between 33rd and 41st and Chestnut and Pine have maintained some of the traditionalism the University stands for. With the use of similar colors and materials, most campus buildings look fairly similar. Nonetheless, the Singh Center is so visually unrelated to the rest of campus that it seems more fitting for Center City. There is a perplexing facet to the Singh Center: the concept proposal prioritized social interaction. The building has multilevel seating areas between the three levels; the elongated staircase immediately draws people in and controls circulation in a sophisticated manner. Paradoxically, the Singh Center identifies modern science as a social discipline—if observing matter at the atomic and molecular level could ever be social. Perhaps this is the most revolutionary aspect of the Singh Center. At the forefront of science and technology, the structure is redefining nanotechnology as a discipline. Architecturally, the Singh Center does the inverse of nanotechnology; it looks outwards while the latter looks inward. ariela osuna

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Take $5 off your next haircut! Check out The DP Mobile App! O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 9

Five Storytelling Tips Goosebumps and laughter are side-effects of captivating storytellers. 1. Know the first and last line of your story—this will help you if you get off track in the middle. 2. Get into it—if you're enthusiastic, your audience is more likely to be as well. Yeah! 3. Have a point—don’t just string together unrelated anecdotes and call it a “story.”

4. Connect with your audience—relate to them. Get your audience to understand the purpose of your story. 5. Have a powerful ending—make sure your story builds up to something special that the audience can take away with them when it’s over.

ARTS

First Person Arts: When the Power of the Spoken Story Strikes Philly You don’t have to go far off campus to hear the captivating tales of people across America. And you may find that their voices echo ones on our own campus. The upcoming 12th Annual First Person Arts Festival takes over venues across Philadelphia from November 6–16. As a Philly–based non–profit, First Person gives people the tools and platforms to share their personal stories through workshops, author discussions, theater performances, storytelling competitions and readings over the course of the year. The festival gathers people together in celebrating the idea that sharing our stories allows us to transcend our cultural differences. The anticipated audience—the local Philly community is the main driver of First Person’s programming. The organizers did their best to tailor this year’s events around relevant topics. Executive Director Jamie J. Brunson said that the event covers “a diverse array of issues, including mental health, immigration, sexuality, and family.” First Person Arts features more than twenty events occurring over the ten–day period. “The Sincerity Project,” a dynamic music and theater performance by Team Sunshine Performance Corporation, explores what it really means to be part of the millennial generation—digging beyond the stereotypes of our tech–obsessed and selfie culture. There’s also a chance to learn more about a vibrant Philly subculture in “Dear Sir of Madam,” a night of intimate stories from some of Philly’s top drag stars. If you’ve ever been to a drag event in Philly—or even if you haven’t—this is your chance to listen and look beyond the glamorous wigs and fishnets. Many of the events are more serious, however, and use sensitive personal experiences as vehicles to highlight important social issues. For instance, the “(1) ne Drop Project” by cultural researcher Dr. Yaba Blay brings together stories from over 60 individuals on the topic of what it means to be black in today’s society and in the past. This event will be eye–opening and an important window onto what happens outside of the Penn bubble. The cherry on top of all these events? The “Grand Slam” championship competition is a who's who of Philly wordsmiths. The winners of First Person’s monthly storytelling competition compete before an audience to be crowned “Best Storyteller in Philadelphia." This masterful showcase of powerful, entertaining, and moving personal stores, might even inspire you to tell your own tale. Purchase your tickets for these events at firstpersonarts.org. Most are under $20.

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2 0 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E O C T O B E R 31 , 2 01 3

ARTS

“Sometimes I joke that music and theatre flow through my veins, but it’s moments like that when I truly believe it. I’ve never been so happy or felt so accomplished, and I can’t wait to have myriad more of these experiences over the rest of my life.”

trevor pierce

Crafting narratives since 1970... something.

Check out an extended interview with performer Trevor Pierce online at 34st.com.

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hough we all know the watch Hugo in theaters. And we you guess then that Penn stuInternet is for porn fit this mold of overworked Ivy dents would prefer to get their (thanks Avenue Q), the League students well, with only RomCom fix online with free bedroom is no longer the only about 17% of Penn undergrads streaming websites like SideReel area being ceded to digital terri- watching movies at the Rave ev- and Ch131 rather than pay for tory. For every girl with daddy’s ery semester. services provided by Netflix and AmEx, window browsing on But how about the other ste- Redbox? Fifth Avenue has been replaced reotype, the one that says all colWhile 75% of us watch movwith online shopping. And lege students are poor? The free ies online, nearly 50% pay for 5 beers, 2 shots, 1 pitcher FYEs everywhere have virtu- movement of information made it. I hear Horrible Bosses — a ally been rendered useless (pun possible by the interweb makes new release on iTunes — is hysintended) with the existence of terical, but is Whose recommendations do you take? the multifarious iTunes store. it worth the 50 Things are no different here 1.5 salads at 47.7% Other at Penn, where the Rave gets Sweetgreen 40% 40 A Friend nearly half the traffic for the it would Cinema Studies midnight screenings of blockhave cost if 30 Major 26.2% 25% 25% buster hits like Twilight as Hulu I had seen it Professor or TA 20 does the day after the newest in theaters? Street episode of 30 Rock airs. This Ramen noo10 *Students surveyed were allowed to choose more makes sense. We Penn students dles aren’t than one option. 0 are too busy procrastinating that bad, I on Penn InTouch and designguess. ing funny lacrosse pinnies for entertainment accessible and The average Penn student the clubs we’re involved5inbeers, to inexpensive with but average, if 7 shots,to1 anyone pitcher, 1 an diet (who coke,is anything 1 orangina leave the comfort of our beds to AirPennNet account. Wouldn’t you ask Amy Gutmann) watch-

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WHAT THE KIDS ARE DRINKING Raspberry Fleischmanns

Rainer

Washington Schools

Crystal Palace University of Michigan

Colby

Genessee Beer Rochester Institute of Technology

Rubinoff

UMass Amherst Harvard

National Bohemian Johns Hopkins

Prestige

Aristocrat

USC, UCLA

Duke, UVA, UNC, Davidson

Taaka Rice, Tulane

Tecate Indio Dos Equis Sol

Jagermeister Busch Sternlight Pilsner

Grey Goose Belvedere Dom Perignon

Viking Fjord Absolut Jagermeister

Mexico

Canada

Switzerland

Norway