Artichoke Vol. 5 No.2 by Artichoke Magazine

mag

FALL BACK 07

In Focus Peter McKinnon

OCTOBER 2015 | VOL. 5 N o . 2

ARTICHOKE

CONTRIBUTORS Editor-in-chief

Mayeesha Chowdhury

Writers

Alex Gage Byron Yan Christina Zisko Cole Kennedy Curtis te Brinke Diana Edelhauser Elijah Budgeon Katherine Collier Luke Gagliardi Nadia Romopas Peter Ellman Phoebe Gibb Susan Chen

Art Director

Karen Keung

Designers

Camilla Dinardo Caroline Gonzales Daniel Kim Justin Veneracion Maryanne Cruz Michelle Fok Olivia Chan Scott Osbourne Simone Robert

MAJOR SPEAK

CONTENTS VOL 5. No. 2 | OCTOBER 2015

FALL 2015

In Focus: Peter McKinnon Mayeesha Chowdhury

Major Speak

Creative

Arrivals, Departures, and Finding Your Old Baby Face Curtus te Brinke

Midnight Poems Katherine Collier

Reality Check Diana Edelhauser

In the Forms of Love Susan Chen

On the Rails Luke Gagliardi

Entertainment 20

Riot Fest Review Peter Ellman

Lifestyle

Ego Death and the BIrth of Funk Byron Yan

20 and Terrified Christina Zisko

Viet Cong Nadia Rompas

The Vicissitudes of Heaven and Hell Alex Gage

The Flash Returns Cole Kennedy

A Silver Age Explained Elijah Budgeon

A New Horror Trend Phoebe Gibb

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EDITOR’S LETTER HI ALL! With Frosh Week finally being over, we’ve all pretty much settled into our regular schedules, and I finally had some time take in everything that is happening around my little office. In this issue, we will be introducing the new ewag curator, Queenie Chu, along with an update from ewag and wcc. ewag is one of the many resources that Winters offers to ensure student involvement and success. Over the course of the past month, I introduced myself to Peter McKinnon, the interim master. We had a particularly wise morning discussing Peter’s career and his involvement with Winters. If you couldn’t already tell, this month’s issue will be featuring our new interim Master. Just remember—Peter is more than just a man with a super cool mustache, he is hilarious, witty and extremely resourceful—so if you ever find yourself wandering around Winters and bump into Peter, take a minute out to say hello and it will be a conversation you’ll remember. One last thing—the Artichoke works very closely with all the organizations that work within and alongside Winters, so if you’d like your event to be written about, or advertised for, please email us at wintersfreepress@winterscouncil.com! ENJOY! MC

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EWAG REPORT Past exhibitions “Reify” September 8-18, 2015 Reception: September 17, 6-9pm ewag was thrilled to exhibit its alumni group exhibition featuring alumni students from York University. The show was curated by ewag curator Queenie Chu and the show consisted of four alumni students, Khadija Jaii, Santiago Roballo, Holly Townson, and Maria Won. “Reify” is group exhibition that focuses on the artists’ experience and understanding of natural reality. The artists have pieced together ongoing/finished ideas in their works through their internal/external experiences. An impression of the artist’s constructed reality and the self are conveyed through the use of non-figurative forms.

Alumni Solo Exhibition Brandon Kennedy September 21–October 2, 2015 Reception: September 24, 6-9pm The solo alumni show focuses on Brandon Kennedy’s painting practice. He presents one thousand five hundred and twelve individually hand painted samples of ultramarine blue (red shade) mixed with titanium white. He notes that the individual shades were mixed at random and were simply painted from left to right.

Upcoming Exhibition for October Ellen Wright’s solo exhibition Her Place & What Was Learned There Reception: October 5–16, 2015 "Her Place and What Was Learned There." A drawing installation by Ellen Wright at Eleanor Winters Art Gallery, located within the Winters building at York University. Large scale rubbings of domestic spaces, partial and fragmented, materialize melancholia within specific architecture and in relation to objects therein. While also referencing gender, these rubbings set apart and reacquaint the home as an inheritance.

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HELLO WINTERS COLLEGE! Winters College Council is your student government and our mandate is to enrich the lives and educational experiences of our affiliated students through academic, political, cultural, artistic, and recreational programs. We strive to make your experiences here at Winters College both academically and socially satisfying. Starting right from Orientation Week in September all the way to the year-end Formal in April, Winters Colleges is here to bring passion and spirit in everything we do. Winters College Council hosts a variety of events throughout the year at; The Absinthe Pub and Coffee Shop, the Junior Common Room, and the Eleanor Winters Art Gallery (ewag). Some of the events include: Acoustic Night, Band Night, Karaoke Night, Word Night, themed pub night (Thursdays), and much more. In addition Winters College Council hosts major events such as the famous Montreal Trip and the Winters College Formal. Here at Winters College we also provide students the opportunity to get physically and actively involved in a healthy lifestyle. The Athletic representatives on Winters College Council are available all year round to provide the tools and information to help you get involved within York's intramural program. The program offers a variety of sports such as:

Soccer, Volleyball, Hockey, Frisbee, Flag Football, Badminton, Swimming and much more. In addition the athletic representatives also hold the infamous rage tournaments! Which are overnight tournaments for Volleyball and Dodge Ball hosted at Tait MacKenzie. Along with that Winters has a variety of affiliated clubs that are always looking for new members. Clubs such as: Winters Community Art Club (wcac), Salsa Club at York, wibi, and the Ministry of Magic just to name a few. There are clubs suitable for everyone and Winters College Council encourages you to get involved! If you're interested in our college council, Winters College Council holds meetings every Friday at 10:00am to discuss all aspects of the college and its community. Everyone is welcome to attend and participate in discussion, so we look forward to seeing you there! The office is open Monday-Friday from 9:00am-5:00pm. If you have any questions, please feel free to stop by. We also provide a lounge area in our office if you would like to come hang out, talk, or play games. We consider ourselves your friends, colleagues, and peers. We are here for you, and would love to get to know you! If you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact us. Have a wonderful year and we look forward to meeting you all! CHEERS, Winters College Council 003 winters college t: 416.736.5389 e: president@winterscouncil.com www.winterscouncil.com www.facebook.com/winterscouncil twitter & instagram: @winterscouncil

Council photo: William Cook and Alyson Von Massow

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In focus: Peter McKinnon BY MAYEESHA CHOWDHURY

Last year, John Mayberry, the interim-master for Winters, asked me to be to be the academic advisor for the college. Even though we both hailed from the production area in the department of theatre, we thought, that because we had such an excellent working history, this would be okay. When later that year, John was named the permanent master, he had to find someone to cover his upcoming, and unavoidable sabbatical. So I stepped in as the interim master until his summer 2016 return. I’m quite new to Winters, even though I’m an old hand at York and this being my 32nd year teaching here. Fine Arts students have always been the primary constituents here at winters,and I have had enough pints at the Ab to feel relatively at home here. But what happened when I became the academic advisor was that I began to understand, in a non-theoretical way, the impact the York colleges have on the lives of students. One of the biggest problems we have as a commuter campus, is that students get on the ttc, come to campus, go to class, get on the ttc, and go home. They don’t have any involvements, other than going through the mechanical ritual of attending class.

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Peter, through the power of his majestic beard, managed to answer my pre-written questions in his introductory paragraph even before I asked them, but I decided to go through with them anyway… artichoke: When did you begin teaching here at York? peter: 32 years ago! On July 1st 1984—so this is my 32nd year. Before that I had been teaching at the Banff School of Fine Arts for a bit, and I had been a career lighting designer for theatre, and I got hired as a full time appointment teaching lighting. And then over the years I began teaching management, and now I’m teaching history more than anything else. York has been a great employer to me, and my colleagues have also been great, seeing as I shifted my focus twice since I came here, and my colleagues said, “Fine, sure! Do something else!”, and allowing me to reinvent myself a couple of times. Tom Diamond, a great opera director, wanted to have a cup of coffee with me one time, so we met at the Future Bakery. I had lit a couple of shows with Tom before, and he was forming a new theatre company. I assumed he was going to ask me to be his production manager, but he wasn’t, he was asking me to be his general manager! That had never occurred to me. And I realised that being the general manager was going to be great.Three years into that I was producing on Broadway. I was loving the whole conceiving the big project and seeing it through the opening nights, to the closing nights. So I became a teacher of

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management. And then, somehow, ten years ago, I found myself writing a book, a little book, to teach myself how to write books, and that turned into a really big book-writing fetish. I then got two volumes of a three volume set out of the way.

I found myself writing a book, a little book, to teach myself how to write books, and that turned into a really big book-writing fetish.

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a: You were talking about Broadway—and I heard you did Evil Dead—the musical? pm: Oh I did that too! I did Evil Dead the musical. That was funny because Jeffrey Latimer was the producer, and he called me up here at York looking for a few former students to be the production managers. The first one he named was one of the production managers of Cirque du Soleil, the next one was a production manager at the national art centre, and the third one he named was a tech-director of the national ballet. We were going down a list of really hot people, and then Jeffrey said “Well Peter, why don’t you do it?” And I said, “Sure, I could do that, and had a hysterical time managing the production of Evil Dead. It was as chaotic as anything I have ever done in my life, and it tested everything I have ever learned.

a: What was your first impression of Winters? pm: Well, my first impression, 30 years ago, was going to the Ab! So, that was a long, long time ago. My first impression after being officially affiliated with Winters was last year, when I attended orientation week for the first time! In the madness of orientation, what really struck me was the gangs of [torn] red t-shirted Winters people descending on cars with incoming first year students, and picking up all their possessions, and in one case, even the student, and hauling them into their rooms, leaving the parents somewhat bewildered. I thought that was extraordinary, I thought that was cool.

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a: Winters has a lot of resources for fine arts students, and as someone who works with arts students, and teaches them, what sort of resources do you think Winters provides? pm: ewag’s a big one. In the old days, there was a horrible little performance space in the basement of either Stong or Bethune, but I think it was Stong. It was called the Samuel Beckett theatre, and it was about the size of this room, and it was great because the students ran that as a little theatre, and anybody who ordered a performance got in the queue. It ran performances from early September to early April straight through. Students from all majors got to test their talents in a very low stakes surrounding.

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That got taken up as a storage room couple of years later. But ewag as a performance place, partially replaces that. Having said that, ewag is also a visual arts exhibit, which is student curated, and I think that is very valuable.

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a: What’s your favourite inspirational quote? pm: I don’t have a favourite, but, I’ll give you two. The election quote is from Edmund Burke, and he said: The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. So, if good people don’t get up, get involved, and among other things, vote— evil will triumph. That’s a big one.

↯ "Do you want a photo of me pretending to work?"

The other one is my lifelong quote from an American Scene Designer named Howard Bay. He said, and I quote: Very few professional artists can afford the luxury of disorganisation. The wayside is littered with the bleached bones of excruciatingly gifted designers who perished for the want of organisation. Amateurs have the luxury of, sort of, painting when they feel like it, or writing when their spirits move them or doing art when it’s a sunny day—but professionals get up every day and make art.

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MAJOR SPEAK

ARTICHOKE

Arrivals,

Departures, and Finding Your Old Baby Face BY CURTIS TE BRINKE

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I’m supposed to be an adult by now. Right? It’s mid-September and I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m the same baby-faced first year I used to be. It’s my final year at YorkU and its all coming full circle. The feeling I associate with first year the most is that silvery, fresh breeze sense of real change. It’s that feeling you got when driving away from your house the first time you moved out. It sits uncomfortably in your head, occupying a space you weren’t aware existed. Do we get to feel that again? And are we ever lucky enough to feel like we’ve arrived? I have reached the tentative conclusion that perhaps I never will. The obvious culprit is my chronic dissatisfaction. But the more alarming one is the fact that I am in perpetual reconstruction. And it’s not a far stretch to say that maybe we all are. When I was a kid I had this idea, not an image of myself, but more an idea of a feeling. The feeling that I would be sure of myself. Complete in decisions I was making and the conclusions I was reaching. I’m past the point my imagination stretched to and I’m still as indecisive as I was when I was twelve. Looking back on the past three years it is easy to see how I have arrived here. My current state of being a result of a dismantling and reordering of the parts of me that failed, succeeded, raved, ranted, drank, hurt, tried, shook and strained. I can feel myself being realigned every time I stumble across something new about myself. So I’ll pose a simple question. What brought you here? And what’s going to happen if you let yourself be restructured? Surrender yourself to the breaking down and reimagining of yourself. It’s scary. I have no idea what the year will bring. But maybe, right now, I’m more able to allowthe rebuilding of myself to create the way forward. It has nothing to do with my childhood perspective on adulthood, but maybe that’s how it works. Maybe we’re old and baby faced, all at the same time.

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REALITY CHECK BY DIANA EDELHAUSER

Watching and being watched have become actions that we associate with the perverse, something to avoid, to be ashamed of. Like many other concepts, watching others is now associated with fetish and often strikes the general public as inappropriate, and certainly not something that could be used to inform. While scopophilia is indeed the act of obtaining sexual satisfaction from watching, actual surveillance and being surveilled may in fact be something humans require. As evolved as we have become, can we truly self-regulate without the fear of repercussion? And, when there is access, do we not indulge in watching others do often mundane things through reality television?

Control is arguably the most prominent theme of George Orwell’s political novel, 1984. Characters in Orwell’s fictional and “idealistic” totalitarian society are told that Big Brother is the face of the Party, and that he is always watching them, but as protagonist Winston Smith wonders, does Big Brother really exist? There are various modes of control being implemented throughout the novel, including psychological manipulation (propaganda inundates the citizens, leaving them nearly incapable of any independent thought), information control (citizens are not allowed to hold on to photographs, among other things), linguistically-driven mind control, and more. Again,

all this is being done through the ominous Big Brother, who may or may not be ready to impose consequences to disobeyers. This general question of unseen sources of power leads us back to Michel Foucault, the 20th century french philosopher. Foucault introduced the idea of the panopticon- a watch tower in the centre of a prison yard which inmates cannot identify as occupied or empty. However, their consciousness that they might be watched at all times regulates their behaviour. So I wonder, perhaps we need to think we are being watched in order to behave morally and acceptably. Our behaviour on the Internet is arguably more reserved because we know that the government, or at least our Internet Service Providers, are monitoring our activity... Until we go into Incognito mode. Our actions in a store or bank are perhaps more mannered because we know we are being recorded on security cameras. And while many may argue that this is an infringement on our privacy, which we consider a birthright in a democratic country like Canada, I would suggest that humans require supervision.

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“Perhaps we need to think we are being watched in order to behave morally and acceptably.” Controversially, perhaps God is the more familiar Big Brother in our lives: the omnipresent, omniscient presence to whom we apologize for our sins, ask for miracles and thank when we feel blessed. Naturally, one might ask, “what about those who do not believe in such presence? Atheists, agnostics, etc?”. Of course I am not suggesting that there is nothing to act as a moral compass for that segment of the population. Rather, I believe that is something worth exploring. I also wonder, which is our real persona? Is it the real me when I’m home alone eating popcorn on the couch, undone and unconcerned by anything, or is it the real me when I am surrounded by my peers, time carefully given to my appearance and consciously making the right decisions for my environment? I say that it is that very question that confuses us and leaves us sometimes unsatisfied with reality television. Are the people we are watching being themselves? Is Survivor scripted? Is MTV’s The Real World really all that honest? More pressing for me is, why is Big Brother, the reality game show franchise initially filmed in the Netherlands, still keeping that same

name? Creator Jon de Mol based the concept on 1984, considering that the contestants are isolated from the rest of the world for about three months, without technology and being constantly monitored by cameras and audio devices at every point in their stay. However, at least in the more recent seasons that I have been watching [from the American and Canadian editions], the actual intervention and idea of Big Brother has been severely diluted, if not lost. Contestants in the latest season of the American edition, Big Brother 17, just finished their 90-day stay in the Big Brother house this September. As viewers, we are given the power of being Big Brother, watching the players with scrutiny. But we have had almost no intervention, no real power and no real influence this season (Big Brother Canada 3 was more satisfying in that regard).

Contestants also seemed unfazed that the entire nation, including their family members, clients, co-workers, etc were watching and proceeded to engage in acts that would conventionally be considered inappropriate for the public eye. This begs the question, do our primal needs overthrow our concern for morality? As the franchise continues, I am tempted to believe the answer is yes. In writing this article, I realized that I have a lot to consider about myself: who is the real me? Would I act differently in a house wired with cameras after three months? Would I still care? The only answer I do know is that I will continue to watch reality television, which is perhaps the worst conclusion I could draw from all this. Perhaps I won’t let anybody see me doing it.

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MIDNIGHT POEMS BY KATHERINE COLLIER

questions of a late october evening Everything around me Darkness churning Things move in the night But all I hear Are voices Telling me what to do Telling me Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not good enough The ghosts of my past haunt my present The uncertainty of my future causes me to shake with fear Darkness surrounds me Things going bump in the night Leaving me with questions Am I safe here?

all hallows eve Bright orange faces Watching me from the blackness Guiding the way home

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no one will know No one will know If you Wear a new face Become someone else If just for a night Be who you always wanted to be And no one will know No one will know That this is the real you That this is the person you always wanted to be But cannot show No one will know No One Will Know

fear Forever Escaping to Another Reality

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IN THE FORMS OF LOVE BY SUSAN CHEN

B. The gold of the moment passes like falling dust from my palms. And I am fine—an uncommon content I feel within. My heart, now rich—the bridge made from this wealth is how I distinguish love from lust.

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A. Time no more, turning and burning our past into unknown silhouettes. If our love was honest, we will return to its depths—the familiar conditions that allowed us to connect. Intimate minute—moments passed— the pulse eternal brings us back.

C. The continuity of separate wholes—merging into an atomic community—exchanging, sharing, and inhabiting the equal distribution of their motion. By the leverage of our own consciousness and heart, we are dropped into the fabric of infinity with our surrender. We are fused with no limits—while distinguishing our confidence in this certainty. We ended up in a place with no conditions that could not be more perfect and true.

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ON THE

RAILS BY LUKE GAGLIARDI

There is a silent vote amongst the creatures.

I hear the screams, forming clouds over the stars as they clangor. I feel the blood, as they must, dripping down my chin. I have screams of my own to let loose, but they are bottled in my bowels and stoppered in suds. This is the adventure Kerouac promised. This is my trip down the road, my flight down the tracks. Octoberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s end is dark this year, darker than any I remember, and blacker for the screams. Drowning under industrial flood lights, I breathe and itch to join the screamers in their ritual. As I run through a maze of pulsating lights and whirring sounds, I find myself alone in the way only someone surrounded by strangers can achieve. I am trying to understand my rabbit hole surroundings, and I am learning, my brain encoding experience behind

bulging eyes. I am navigating this new world with a forced bravery, aware of anything so far as to know it should be avoided. They are following me, the screams, and the screamers. They shower down on me from overhead. They peck at my heels as my feet flounder through pylons, draped in human flesh with Nikon eyes, red from recording. They are hunting me, the ones who do not scream, the ones that prowl among the orangeÂblack watchers. They are chasing me, the stalkers that surveilled me as I entered through this maze of flesh and stone. They watch me flinch with each inundating cacophony of shrieks. They hunt, dissolving as I look over shoulders. Swirling into shadows as I swivel my spine and eyes.

Creative I run now, my heart rising to whip my blood to the tempo of my falling feet. Step, step, breath, swivel, over and again, until the swivel sends the ground for me and I greet it, all face and flesh. My cheek shakes the pavement’s dry hand. A tooth jumps from my gums to romp with a pebble. The blood I feel is real this time, dripping down my torn chin. A moment is what the fall affords me, before the hunters are on me. The red eyes retreat back into the dark clouds of screams, clearing to let the three triangulate me. I do scream now, loud and horrible, curdling the blood escaping the former home of my tooth, further bloating the black winds already fat on human noise. I scream for the life I had before the maze. I scream, until my dry handed acquaintance shakes with it.

I scream for mercy, and beg in blubbers. But my sobs cannot trespass the hunters’ thick black armor. There is a silent vote amongst the creatures. It ends with the smallest, and most eager, swarming my prone scream chamber. He grinds his knee deep into my saddest vertebrae and whispers threats and promises into my ear. His hands grope my arms into flailing sticks that are quickly bundled in a twisttie. Down two limbs, I flop and bleed. I give up screaming and start rolling in threats of my own. The hunters allow me this as the Nikon eyes film. I am brought to my feet to stare into the crowd of watchers that seem closer to humans than they had before I shook the ground’s hand. The maze seems more organized, the pulsing lights start to settle into restaurants and arcades.

I am bundled, bleeding, an reeling. Shook down, out, and propped up between two of the hunters with their tribe name stitched across their chest in a language I once read. Their god whispers orders and asks questions with a crack and beep. He asks if they caught the kid running around on acid. They look at me with a laugh, and with a crackle and beep of their own, respond in the affirmative. I can read their tribe’s name now as my head rolls around on it’s neck, and the word security brings up hazy memories of fear. I read more words as they extrude me from the gate I entered as another person, wonderland. So it had been down the rabbit hole after all, as the screamers looped overhead.

They are following me, the screams, and the screamers.

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On September 19th and 20th, a plethora of punks and posers, hippies and hip hop heads, freaks and geeks and music fans of all stripes converged on Toronto’s Downsview Park for Riotfest 2015. The diverse headliners, from Alexisonfire to Weezer to Prodigy to Wu-Tang Clan, offered something for everyone and that diversity also trickled down into the smaller, newer acts. There was also, as usual, the rain and the mud to contend with. Day one’s beautiful entrance music was local emo/ grunge/pop-punk rising stars, Safe To Say. I was very distressed to be late for their set, but Brad Garcia’s emotive and dynamic singing wafting over the hills near the entrance at least told me I was heading in the right direction, and excited me for the day ahead.I’ll have to leave home earlier the next time they play nearby! The next notable band was Canadian hardcore legends D.O.A., who for some reason I want to describe as cute. I know- some old grey-haired punks playing loud and fast songs with titles like “I Hate You” might not SEEM cute, but I guess it was the simplicity of their music and the senior citizen factor (have you even seen UP?) Easily one of the best sets of the whole festival was Moneen’s rain-drenched outpouring of determined and persistent energy. They started off strong, but so did the rain, and after a few songs they had almost no working guitar gear. Despite this seemingly impossible stumbling block, they pushed through it and continued playing and singing with (and for) their fans. Their refusal to quit or to even consider quitting was inspiring.

Then the sun came out just in time for the Cancer Bats. Their metallic hardcore riffs and big bouncy breakdowns seemed even more triumphant with the real life pathetic fallacy of the clouds parting. Since I had seen them before I left halfway through to go catch a few Thurston Moore songs. Moore had a very different energy to his chilled-out noise rock, but was also very enjoyable. Seeing him with Steve Shelley on drums is also probably the closest I’ll ever get to seeing Sonic Youth, now that Moore and Kim Gordon are divorced. Next was a slew of nostalgic, big-name acts (with one excellent up-and-comer mixed in). Thrice proved that they can still be one of the tightest, most emotional and dynamic post-hardcore bands ever, and included crowd pleasers like “Deadbolt” and “Artist in the Ambulance.” Coheed and Cambria also brought out nostalgic crowd pleasers (mostly cuts off of In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3), despite some more recent quality releases. The excellent up-and-comer I mentioned was The Dirty Nil. They play a grungy, sludgy, noisy brand of punk rock that sounds like a mix of The Distillers and Metz, with an emphasis on strong songwriting. Then it was another nostalgia trip with power pop rock gods Weezer playing their cult hit album Pinkerton front to back. It was touching to hear Rivers Cuomo confide that they “never thought these songs would be heard by a crowd this big.” This nostalgia-fest culminated with Alexisonfire’s reunion (after their ‘final’ show 2.5 years ago). Alexisonfire were one of my favourite bands for most of my adolescent life, so naturally I was pumped!

ENTERTAINMENT

Photography by Paweł Bukowski

They opened with “Accidents” off of the virtually perfect 2004 album, Watch Out!, and continued with a slew of hits, mostly from their two later albums, Crisis and Old Crows/Young Cardinals. The opening track of their self-titled debut album, “.44 Caliber Love Letter”was a definite highlight. Then during their encore, guitarist Wade MacNeil announced that “Alexisonfire is officially back” without any further elucidation on immediate plans. Still, even just the possibility of a new album is exciting. Comparatively, the second day of Riotfest felt much more anti-climactic, but with a few very strong standouts acts. Andrew W. K. was one of the most life-affirming, positive and energetic performances I’ve ever seen, and his unique brand of party-metal was perfectly congruent with the abundant sunshine that day. Jazz Cartier’s set was pushed late but when he finally took the stage he rapped and danced with a sense of rebellion and urgency, though his energy output was more short controlled bursts than a sustained high. Two pleasantly surprising new discoveries were rapper Tasha The Amazon and Post-Punk rockers The Dying Arts, both local acts.

While Rancid, Wu-Tang Clan, Atmosphere, and Tyler the Creator all lit up their own devoted audiences, the most wide-reaching and appealing seemed to be Weezer’s performance of their ‘Blue Album’ with hits like “Say It Ain’t So” and “Sweater Song”. Again the nostalgia was in full effect, with fans of all ages singing along to hits from the mid‘90s. While many of the reunions or retrospective performances were fun and heart-warming, I personally found some of the newer, younger bands much more vital and impressive. While bigger acts might have the luxury of resting on their time-tested laurels or even cashing in on their gradually accumulated credibility, up-and-coming acts might require much more courage to bring their fresh material to the same stages as some of these behemoths. In that respect, kudos are due to Safe To Say, Like Pacific, The Dirty Nil, Tasha the Amazon, and The Dying Arts. Maybe in 10 or 20 years any of these acts will get their own retrospective headlining slots.

BY PETER ELLMAN

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BY BYRON YAN I’m a big fan of any band or artist that will show growth and change. Artists that put out multiple records with the same feel and sound will eventually bore me, no matter how much I may love the sound. Blooming and expansion is good, it shows maturity. This type of maturity is what I heard in The Internet’s latest album, “Ego Death.” The Internet is a soul and R&B band from Los Angeles, California which include Syd Bennett or “Syd the Kyd,” who is commonly known for her affiliation with the Hip-Hop group Odd Future. “Ego Death” is The Internet’s third studio album and in all likelihood, their most mature album. On this record, seems that they have gone with a more traditional soul sound and have recorded with instruments instead of the usual electronic synth, drums and keys combination that was used in their previous two records. This results in a fuller, more round sounded album. Overall, the band has a great feel for groove and funk and it is showcased exceptionally in this album. Tracks like “Girl” and “Special Affair” have bass lines that’ll just make you wanna nod your head without shame on your bus ride home. The overall groove and tightness of the band really obvious on all tracks. However, I think the biggest improvement “Ego Death” has accomplished compared to The Internet’s previous releases lie within Syd, the vocalist. Her

ENTERTAINMENT

“Ego Death” and The Rebirth of Funk singing has improved almost ten fold. She sounds much more comfortable with herself and much more mature. Her voice is very unique and acts almost as a distinct mark of The Internet’s sound. Her voice is smoother, more relaxed and she isn’t afraid to have fun on some of these tracks. She even has some harmonies on tracks like “Gabby” featuring Janelle Monáe that help coat the already thick track. However, by no means is she an exceptional vocalist, but now her voice doesn’t sound as if she’s dragging the song along. All in all, Syd has been working on her singing and it definitely shows on this record. The production, the music and the singing have all improved on “Ego Death.” The mix is groovy, balanced and doesn’t stick out. The sound is smoother, more developed and well calculated. It’s been a long road for The Internet but they have created an album that has been on repeat for me for months. If you’re looking for a tall glass of cold, smooth contemporary funk with hiphop influences, this record is for you. Have you heard any of The Internet’s previous releases? Have you listened to this yet? What do you think? Let me know in an email, I’d love to hear from you. byronyan@my.yorku.ca

ARTICHOKE

WORTH A LISTEN? BY NADIA ROMPAS

When viet cong started becoming a prominent name in the Toronto music scene earlier this year, I had no idea who they were, or took any interest in knowing more about them. But succumbed to the hype (as always), it was time give their self-titled debut album a proper listen. Released in January via Flemish Eye/Jagjaguwar, the Calgary band’s record was later short-listed for the 2015 Polaris Music Prize, an annual award for the best Canadian full-length released that year. With the band consisting of ex-Women members Matt Flegel and Mike Wallace, Chad VanGaalen’s former live guitarist Scott Munro and musician Daniel Christiansen, Viet Cong’s sound embody an art rock and post-punk vibe as a result from the members’ previous projects, with an added personal spin that combines experimental, drone-y sonic textures.

Although their LP is relatively short, consisting of only seven tracks, the continuity between each track surprisingly keeps the album interesting and exciting. The opening track “Newspaper Spoons” is reminiscent to the sounds of tribal ceremony rituals, as the band plays with echoing distorted drums, muted chants and skewing guitar sounds. This introduction shows what you can expect from the album: downright noisy and disoriented songs. While tunes like “Pointless Experience” and “Bunker Buster” have a pop edge, making them more relatable to traditional ears, heavier songs like “Silhouettes” and “Continental Shelf” can be rather overwhelming for first time listeners. Nevertheless, the sonic spectrum on Viet Cong

ENTERTAINMENT

has a common ground in its musical structure, which initially builds anticipation and then spits catchy bass hooks and random loud guitars to keep their sound (paradoxically) unexpected. In longer numbers, such as album centrepiece “March of Progress” and extensive “Death” closer, the four-piece ventures into more prog-rock-like journeys. With the band incorporating their signature heavy drones and marching drums, we are taken revelations after revelations, identified through the heavenly sounds similar to a twinkling harp. And in sudden twists, Viet Cong gives us straight up post-punk with clearer intertwining guitars, which feels like another song in itself and shows their ability to combine juxtapositions.

It is a different story when the four-piece takes the stage. My first Viet Cong show back in April at The Opera House was personally unmemorable, despite the hype that resulted in a sold out show. The members stood like stiff figures and the songs blended together, making the set monotonous for someone who was unfamiliar with their material. But, drummer Mike Wallace gave a memorable note that night by playing flawlessly with only one arm due to an injury. However, later in July, the band’s performance at the first annual WayHome Music and Arts Festival was a whole other experience. Still somewhat unfamiliar with their songs, this time the set took a 180-degree spin. The band has become tighter and more solid as live performers, and added in with an amazing sound system, the vhype was suddenly understandable and believable.

Press Photo

For those who are better versed with the pop song structure and melodies, Viet Cong’s self-titled album may not be favourable at first listen. With loud spurs of guitars, marching drums and authoritative vocals, their backgrounds in post-punk and art-rock are unsurprisingly incorporated in this debut album. Setting themselves apart in the music scene, the fourpiece have innovated the genres by incorporating a unique, dystopian atmosphere and sensation from the record’s overall heavy instrumentals and almost inexpressive vocals. As their on-stage performances have become tighter, perhaps it is time to give their self-titled record a listen and catch them live at Lee’s Palace this December. Side note: Due to the recent major backlash over the cultural appropriation of their band name, they will be changing it for their next record. But for the time being, a new name hasn't been announced, and so, it will stay for the purposes of this article.

ARTICHOKE

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THE

H S A FL N S

R U T RE

THE BIGGER, BETTER, FASTER SECOND SEASON

BY COLE KENNEDY He was fast enough to unravel a tornado, he was fast enough to break the sound barrier, and he was even fast enough change the past, but that was on one Earth. Can he handle the threats of another? Spoilers (letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just get that out of the way right now). We left Season One in a pretty precarious situation: Eddie had killed himself, effectively erasing his distant relative, Reverse Flash, from reality. The only problem is that Reverse Flash had orchestrated Barry and everyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s lives for the past 15 years, and now he never existed, creating a

paradox. Thus, a black hole opens above the city. More importantly, a gateway opens, connecting our Earth with Earth-2, introducing the series to Jay Garrick, Zoom, and many more. Earth-2 brings new and exciting narratives to the show. First season had already gone so above and beyond, introducing us to time travel and the Speed Force, that it seems hard to imagine the show taking another step forward. The Flash has one of the richest mythologies in all of comics, and its lore is one of the deepest. Time

ENTERTAINMENT

Artwork By Cole Kennedy

travel is only the tip of the iceberg for The Flash. Earth-2 means taking the show up a notch. Where the first season’s particle accelerator introduced the world to metahumans (and Flash himself), Season Two’s Earth-2 will offer the show new villains and new stories from a parallel world. While Earth-2 will introduce iconic characters like Jay Garrick, Atom-Smasher and Zoom, our Earth still has plenty of new things to come. Many new characters, including Patty Spivot and Wally West, reflect the cast of the comics. They’re inclusion on the show builds upon the already diverse supporting cast, and their roles in the series will surely mirror the importance their comic book counterparts have in the comics.

Speaking of the importance of supporting characters, the most iconic and enduring stories of The Flash feature at least two “Flash’s”. We already know Jay Garrick is the Flash of Earth-2, and Wally West’s introduction all but means his destiny to become Kid Flash (and maybe more). Season Two also introduces us to Jesse Quick, new villain Zoom, and returning villain Reverse-Flash. With all the new speedsters entering the ring, one wonders if their inclusion will take away from Barry’s journey. On the contrary, Barry is the Flash, and he is a hero, but the support and friendship he forms with his fellow heroes only builds his heroism. The other speedsters are proof of the inspiration Barry has on the

world. Barry may be one of the many names that dons, or will don, the mantle of The Flash, but his legacy is the strongest and the many speedsters that will eventually join his crusade are evidence of that. Don’t misinterpret the high stakes presented in Season One as the limit of the show’s entertainment, or the inclusion of more speedsters as diluting from Barry’s story. The stakes will get higher, the dangers will become more dangerous, and the more speedsters the merrier as far as I’m concerned. With thousands of terrific comics to pull inspiration from, CW’s The Flash will continue to get bigger, be better, and go faster!

ARTICHOKE

BETWEEN

BY ELIJAH BUDGEON

As the Golden Age of Comics wound down, the Silver Age of comics came close on its heels in the early-mid 1950’s, similar to the Cold War beginning World War II ended. The superheroes themselves lost their edge after the war, and their popularity simmered down. The only characters that maintained any mass appeal were Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman. Superman himself became a cultural icon with a popular 1952 television show in where he fought for “Truth, Justice, and the American Way”, a phrase made popular in Cold War era America. This wasn’t to say the medium itself was no longer popular, but

some of readers who enjoyed superheroes in the past, like the soldiers returning from active duty, and even the writers, decided they wanted something different from the characters they read during war time. Writers and readers alike were more interested in teen romances, westerns, horror, and pulp detective comics. However, in spite of the change in landscape, in the late 1940’s, comics were taken to task for being harmful influences on youth. Dr. Fredric Wertham, a psychiatrist who opened a Harlem psychiatric clinic and held a senior position at Bellevue Mental Hygiene Clinic, conducted research on the

corrupting influence of media on young people, specifically the effect of comic books. His findings lead him to pen Seduction of the Innocent in 1954, where he claimed the sex, violence and drugs that horror, superhero and detective comics pushed upon youth were directly responsible for juvenile delinquent behavior, Batman and Robin were a gay wish fulfilment of two men co-habituating, and that Wonder Woman’s independence made her a lesbian. This attitude got around, and attitudes toward comics plummeted with people burning comics in piles. That same year, the matter was brought to public senate hearings in April

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PANELS:

A SILVER AGE EXPLAINED—THE COMICS CODE AUTHORITY

The colour photographs are sections of a Comic book pile take by Wes C on Flickr. The black and white photo was taken in the 1950’s of Association of Comics Magazine Publishers who are burning thousands of comics. Their content was deemed unfit because of its contribution to juvenile delinquency.

21, 1954, with Wertham as the star witness. Fearing government censorship or an outright end to the entire industry, comic companies came together and devised the Comics Code Authority on October 26, 1954, a code that regulated the work of all work in the industry. Under its sway, good always had to triumph over evil, comics could never show any authority figures in a negative way, moral behavior was enforced, and the sanctity of marriage and the home became paramount. To air on the side of caution further, Superman worked even closer with the law, Batwoman was created for Batman to spend time with,

and Wonder Woman spent more time with love interest, Steve Trevor. The code effectively put a nail in the coffin for most other genres, perhaps being the least accommodating to horror comics, stating clearly against scenes dealing with vampires, ghouls, zombies and werewolves were prohibited. Comics were no longer considered a respectful form of entertainment to the mainstream. The Comics Code Authority pacified the critics enough for the danger to subside but as a result, many writers and artist would leave the industry all together or join the underground Comix movement in the 1960’s. In the meantime, the medium was still

considered a waste of paper to the most, the kind of thing some kids didn’t want to be caught reading by their parents. The Comics Code Authority wasn’t the only thing to come out of the Silver Age. With superhero comics being the biggest genre to still thrive, this brought the emergence of many heroes we know today. Next month we tackle the 1960’s and the weird side of the Silver Age.

ARTICHOKE

A NEW HORROR TREND

in The Babadook & It Follows

ENTERTAINMENT

BY PHOEBE GIBB

By and large, the best horror movies usually mirror a certain fear present in the current time in which they are made. This has been seen in Cold War creature features, 80s slasher films, and even in phenomena such as The Walking Dead, which captures Western society’s current obsession with a dystopian future. Two 2014 films sidestepped this trend and started a new conversation about societal fears, ones that are not often felt widespread but instead act as a lasting burden upon their individual victims. Initially released only a few months apart, Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook and David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows both tell stories of silent, inescapable suffering for their female protagonists. In The Babadook, widowed Amelia struggles to raise her young son, Sam. Due to Sam’s bad behaviour, he has been taken out of school and Amelia spends most of her time with him. When Sam finds a mysterious storybook about the Babadook, a Boogeymanlike creature, he becomes fixated on the monster, convinced that it is coming after him and his mother. Amelia dismisses Sam’s increasingly erratic outbursts, as she is already troubled by the death of her husband.

Amelia’s depression welcomes the Babadook, whose all-consuming entity is a visual manifestation of the grief and helplessness Amelia is experiencing. Similarly, It Follows tells the story of Jay, a college student, who gets a curse put on her after having sex with a guy she’s dating. The curse, which is transmitted through sex, involves a figure stalking the victim, following them at a slow pace wherever they go, and if it catches up to them, it will kill them. Jay must bear the curse and live with it, constantly running from the figure. Arguably, It Follows addresses anxieties about sex, such as sexually transmitted infections and rape, suggesting Jay can’t outrun “it” (the stigma), she can only live with it or pass it on. The monsters of The Babadook and It Follows are not men in masks, nor are they mutant creatures that the characters can battle and defeat. They stand in the place for real fears experienced everyday. Each of the films infers that the fears never really go away, but the characters can fight them as life goes on, which leaves the viewer with the sensation that these films seem oddly real.

ARTICHOKE

: WHAT REAL NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF CHRISTINA ZISKO

LIFESTYLE

If you were asked 15 years ago what your biggest fears were, how would you have responded? Some may have said something akin to monsters, scary movies, or haunted houses… pretty much all of the things Halloween is best known for. Leaving our childhood years behind allowed us to sweep these fears under the rug (except for maybe the fear of monsters chasing us when we turn off the basement light and run upstairs in the dark… that one is forever). Now the things that scare university students are of a completely different nature. What if I asked you today what some of your nightmares consist of? I’ll bet at least a few things on this scream-inducing list. commitment This may not be true to everyone, but we all know of people in our lives who run for the hills at the mention of “commitment”. The question “Are we exclusive?” has struck fear into the hearts of many. Those trying to play the field flee from commitment like young teenagers run away from axemurderers in horror movies. taxes How do we do them? Why do we do them? Who do we ask? Why is this happening? It’s the mystery surrounding taxes and other bank

related activities that makes them all the more terrifying. All we know is deductions are coming off of our paycheques that we are not cool with. the g test Your heart is racing, palms are sweaty, and you get the feeling that you’re being watched. Maybe that’s because you’re doing your driver’s test. The fear of failing a driving test and having to shell out even more money is a fear that is all too familiar for most. If watching the tester scribble notes down about you the entire time doesn’t create some anxiety, I don’t know what will. “no service” Spooky ghost stories and horror movies are nothing compared to getting no cell phone service. The look of panic and terror on students’ faces when we realize our ever so important texts aren’t being received can’t be topped. We all know the moment. You look down at your phone to check the time, and the unthinkable happens. You are disconnected. Scenarios start to run through your head. “What if mom calls and it goes straight to voicemail? She’ll think I’m dead!” “What if I get mugged right now? I can’t even call 911!” “What if the girl from Tinder messages me back? I don’t want her to think I’m talking

to someone else!” In that moment, you make the silent promise to never take another class in the basement of tel ever again. Too high risk. student loans I don’t think there’s anything as terrifying as thousands of dollars of crippling debt to greet you after university. One minute, we’re tossing osap funds around at Tim Horton’s and York Lanes like nothing, then the next—“Wait, do we really have to pay this money back?” You can run but you can’t hide, mostly because the government knows where you live… your address was a requirement on the osap application. This Halloween, skip the pumpkins and ghost, witch and skeleton themed decorations. Just tack your osap balance and failed g test on the walls. Maybe even throw the love letter from the guy you’ve dated twice up there too. These will ensure that the spooky feeling will last 365 days a year, October 31st and beyond.

ARTICHOKE

THE VICISSITUDES OF HEAVEN AND HELL:

THE PESSIMISTIC OPTIMIST

BY ALEX GAGE

By now it is October and the twilight season of the natural world, pungent and dazzling in its final hour of foliage. A fitting time for the Western celebration of All Hallow’s Eve, when the separation between the world of the dead and our own thins to a diaphanous veil. It is not often we are told to focus our own mortality. The subject tends to elicit the specter of futility our culture is unequipped to deal with positively so we hide from death behind our masks and eat sweet dopamine firing candy. But in the meantime, all but a small percentage of you will now have resigned yourselves to not a few killjoy evenings and to the toils of completing a University degree. Which, at the very least, will eat up your time and your peace of mind. But why bother? Those of us not emerging from beneath a rock for the first time know full-well the devaluation of degrees as job-attaining currency. That a degree will disqualify

us from much of the menial part time work that might fill the gap between graduation and “career work.” Meanwhile, some of us will be cracked by the pressures of middle-class expectations and wander the halls of the university like those lost spirits on Halloween, causing our fellows to disguise their faces as they walk past. Furthermore, in the end, we’re all going to die anyways and probably before ending the world problems that get our gall up during a heated discussion amongst friends and classmates some political evening over drinks in the Ab. Of course, this won’t be without leaving a social media trail of our own righteousness and indignation. I may come off a touch nihilistic here but really I am a deeply entrenched optimist. I actually believe in the intrinsic value of higher education though I am of the opinion that everything above is true. I think the greatest thing you can do is to stick with what you are doing, if it is what you believe in, and don’t drop out in

LIFESTYLE

INEVITABILITY EXISTS ONLY IN RETROSPECT. despair. Feed on it. Bend that angst to your will; let it make you better. This is perhaps a Steppenwolf theory but allow me a metaphor: The glass is half-full but it is in the empty half that any powerful optimism is to be found. Conflating the mentality of “the glass is half-full and I am pretty alright with that” with what is necessary to optimism is a gross offence. With this kind of thinking the push for civil rights would have ended with the abolition of slavery and women’s rights would not have gotten very far past forbidding rape and murder and recognizing the personhood of women. That is hardly inspiring. In plain English: To exist, optimism requires dissatisfaction and the determination that one is right to expect better than what one sees because those expectations are axiomatically justified. The opportunities, the potentialities before us as individuals and collectives are theoretically limitless. The impression of despair in the “pessimistic optimist” comes from autilitarian practicality and “real-worldliness” which tempers these utopic dreams. It is the fruit of betrayal to the above belief that we have a role in the infinity and limitlessness of a universe expanding, without artificial

rules and orthodoxies, without determinism. Optimism is obviously not to settle for the way it is. But it is definitely not the blind faith that things will get better from this point, have just got to get better. Inevitability exists only in retrospect. Ask a History student. The kind of optimism I believe in accepts that things are perhaps not likely to get better; not any time soon, not on the present course. But that doesn’t mean they can’t and it damn-well doesn’t mean they shouldn’t. This optimism is moral, therefore must be somewhat subjective for that reason and so cannot be infallible, true. So be it. I have yet to see a weltanschauung honestly devoid of a morality of some kind. It is to know right when you live with wrong. To face up to the responsibility of that guilt which comes when you inevitably do wrong yourself. It is to accept the present conditions of reality but refuse to reconcile with them. It is only the ultimate expression of belief in the human race that elicits such bitterness and disappointment when we fail to consummate the good and the beautiful we can so clearly attain and are so near to being at all times. It is to try like anything is possible when you know you will fail. It is the wariness and warning of a Quebecois saying I learned from the “Maple Spring” that, when you translate to English, simply puts in your hands: “If the trend continues….” and leaves you to deal with what you clearly know already. It is to refuse to accept political correctness as a substitute for social change. It is to not forsake the Yang and expect like an entitled brat to be left the Yin. We live in what is generally speaking a wealthy and enlightened society. For that we can be thankful and modestly proud of how far we have come, thus far. Toronto is a particularly vigorous and diverse metropolis unlike anywhere else in the country. But here in Toronto we too lose perspective and must take heed to step back a moment from the pollution, the occluding illusion, of perpetual light—the twenty-four hour light we walk under, a gift of Power—and the next time you want to write off an uncomfortable view as 100% negative, as pessimistic-therefore-unproductiveand-unnecessary unpleasantness, remember it is the blackest sky that is brightest with stars. How many can you see?