BANG! 11.24.2010

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Volume I, number 6 BANGIN' IT OUT EVERY OTHER HUMPDAY

CONTENT. NEWS FASHIION EATS ARTS MUSIC HOROSCOPES OH MY GOODNESS

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COVER ART BY RICHARD D. OWENS

Missives from the Bangery Run, turkey, run!

BANG! GANG MANAGING EDITOR

ART DIRECTOR

ARTS EDITOR

NEWS EDITOR

BRONWYNN MANAOIS

STEVEN WEEKS

SEAN ÄABERG

DANTE ZÚÑIGA-WEST

MUSIC EDITOR

ARTHUR CONRAD SALES AND MARKETING

MARK SULLIVAN

CONTRIBUTORS

KATIE ÄABERG, ALLISON DITSON, MICHAEL FUCHS, COLLIN GERBER, AMELIA HART, MEGAN HINKEL, DYLAN KENNEDY, JOSIAH MANKOFSKY, RYAn nYburg, RICHARD D. OWENS, SARAH RUPPERT, MIKE SEAGER, tim shaw, TIM SULLIVAN, JASUN WELLMAN BANG PAPER 385 W. 2nd Ave. Eugene, OR 97401

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ADVERTISING INFORMATION ads@bangpaper.com (541) 337-3926 GENERAL INQUIRIES editor@bangpaper.com BANG! is proudly delivered by CETMA Cargo Bikes www.cetmacargo.com Printed by Western Oregon Web Press, Albany, OR © 2010 BANG Paper, LLC. The content herein may not be reprinted in part or in whole without the written consent of the publisher. We are actually astro-chimps with telescopic brains.

Thanksgiving. Thomas Jefferson thought the concept was the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard. I mean, the whole thing is based on a lie.

The first non-native folks to the “new world” came in December of 1619 to what is now known as Virginia. They gave thanks to god for making it. Those Plymouth Rockians didn’t make it until the year after. And the Separatists further separated themselves on their ship, calling themselves “Saints” and “Strangers.” How was there room for any “us versus them” mentality in a group of folks who left their homeland in pursuit of religious freedom? And then come to someone else’s land and claim it as their own? Is that something their god told them to do?

So, how did something that started as a deeply religious event come to mean nothing more than the beginning of the Christmas shopping season? A magazine editor!! (I know! There’s hope for me yet. I’m going to invent a holiday. Any requests?) Ladies’ Magazine editress Sarah Josepha Hale campaigned to make Thanksgiving a national holiday in 1827 until she succeeded. Now that’s the American dream. Make something up and keep bugging people about it until they listen.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m all for anything that makes Americans spend time together as a family. We don’t do enough of that. It’s just the whole Pilgrims and Indians thing that needs to go. Start your own traditions. Be thankful for your family, friends and the fact that you actually have food to eat and a place to eat it. Help feed someone else. And leave those poor turkeys alone. They weren’t at the first Thanksgiving.

Bronwynn, editress Drop a bomb on us. EDITOR@BANGPAPER.COM Share us with your friends and family. We make for good dinner conversation. WWW.BANGPAPER.COM

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illustration by MICHAEL FUCHS

EVERY OTHER WEDNESDAY

Select stories from around the world and beyond curated by Mark Sullivan

NEWS BRIEFS

Thursday 11/11

Last month, voters in Brazil decided to stop the charade of voting for political clowns when an actual clown was elected to congress.

Tiririca (Portuguese for "grumpy") the Clown cruised into office, receiving nearly twice as many votes as any other candidate after his online campaign videos went viral, featuring slogans like, "It can't get any worse," and asking voters, "What does a federal deputy do?

Truly, I don't know. But vote for me and you'll find out." During the campaign, allegations emerged that Grumpy, like 10% of the population, was illiterate, and today he was required to take a test to prove his ability to read and write, per Brazilian statutes. Initial reports are that Grumpy passed his exam, clearing the way for him to pass laws. It's tempting (and easy) to want to mock Brazilian voters for such an interesting expression of the democratic process, but at least their clowns don't remove their makeup once they decide to seek public office.

Friday 11/12

The enlightened scions of San Francisco are at it again, mercifully showing us the errors of our ways and providing a correction to the mistakes and poor judgments that we helpless souls make on a daily basis. Earlier this month, the city's Board of Supervisors voted to ban free toy giveaways with meals deemed too unhealthy, and parents everywhere lamented the fact that now they have to find something new to please just keep the kids quiet for twenty goddamn minutes. And now it appears that even the penis is penal code property. A proposed ballot measure in the city would make it a crime to snip your baby's foreskin, prompting loud groans of "too little too late" from young Jewish men across the Bay Area. San Francisco residents appear to be split on the proposal, with both supporters and opponents recently holding surprisingly impassioned rallies in the city's Castro District

Sunday 11/14

Americans are starting to realize that all of that terror hysteria of the last few years might

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not have been such a great idea, as domestic airline travelers begin to bear the brunt of our brave new world, with a much more personalized style of security screening taking effect at airports nationwide. TSA agents are now able to do with their hands things that would get you thrown out of any respectable gentlemen's club. One of the biggest changes is the out of nowhere dependence on full body imaging scanners, the 21st century's version of x-ray specks. A top Israeli airport security official recently referred to the machines as "useless," telling the Canadian parliament that he could "overcome the body scanners with enough explosives to bring down a 747." In a strange coincidence, that's roughly the same number of body scanners the TSA plans to have installed by the end of 2011, with the cost to taxpayers at about $150 million. One of the biggest proponents of taking our money is the apparently shameless former Director of Homeland Security, Michael Chertoff, who urged Congress to fund a "large-scale deployment of next-generation systems," and who stands to make millions from his client-- who, conveniently, produces and manufactures full body imaging scanners. It's not all doom and gloom, however: PDX airport isn't scheduled to have a scanner installed until next year, so all you hippies traveling elsewhere for the holidays will still be able to stash something away for the trip.

his car to the Willamette Post Office, where he warned everyone to get back before he blew the place here, there, and everywhere (apparently he wasn't pleased with Mr. Postman.)

The nowhere man decided to let it be after responding authorities promised him "we can work it out," and the revolution finally reached the end. The bomb turned out to be imaginary, and local officials praised the ability of emergency workers to come together. The EPD (wiping their brows after a hard day's night), urged local residents to remain vigilant with spokeswoman Eleanor Rigby telling reporters, "while we averted tragedy today, tomorrow never knows."

Monday 11/15

Wednesday 11/17

The British start making plans to party like it's 1399, as the Royal Family announced today the engagement of Prince William and his longtime girlfriend, Kate Middleton. A Royal spokesman admitted that the initial plan was for the proposal to take place next year, but in light of all the depressing news around the world these days, the couple decided to provide a happy distraction, lest any Britts start entertaining crazy notions about why they keep giving millions of dollars every year to a handful of people who hit the uterine jackpot.

Citizens across the British Isle were thrilled by the news, saying that the engagement brings back memories of the UK's "good ol' days," when young British schoolboys were told that, with hard work, perseverance, and a little bit of luck, they too might grow up to one day shovel shit in the King's stables.

Tuesday 11/16

Apple Computers promises a day that we'll never forget, and, boy, do they ever deliver! At least that's what we here at the Bangery were told, since we slept through the big announcement after staying up all night trying to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop (1,037). If any of our loyal readers heard the big news and would be able to fill us in on all of the exciting details, you can find us at our office, redefining the meaning of the word "deadline" and listening to all of our favorite Beatles records, 8-tracks, cassettes and CDs collected over the last few decades. In a twist (and shout) of locally grown terror: Help! you better run for your life, because it's helter skelter in downtown Eugene when an alleged anti-taxman from Corvallis realized it's all too much and decided to drive

TIM SULLIVAN

Technology meets tribalism in Indonesia, when rival clans clashed today over a cell phone ringtone. The beef started when a particular ringtone started making the rounds among the Yoka tribe, featuring lyrics aimed to insult the neighboring Wamena tribe, all laid on top of a scorching rocksteady reggae beat. No longer able to tolerate the insults, and apparently unfamiliar with the rules of a rap battle, the Wamen-iacs descended from the mountains in a fury, and the ensuing chaos resulted in dozens of homes and motorcycles being destroyed by fires, with damages to scores more. Three people were seriously injured, by way of bow, axe, and air rifle, respectively. At present time, Indonesian officials were scrambling to block the release of the "Like A G6" ringtone, expressing the fear that if that contemptible piece of garbage ever made it to the archipelago's shores it would spark an all-out civil war.

Thursday 11/18

The Grinch steals Christmas a month early, when millions of unemployed Americans are given a fat lump of coal as the House votes down legislation to extend unemployment benefits (set to expire at the end of the month) to the chronically empty-pocketed. Citing the belief that the best way to show leadership during a crisis is to impose suffering on the victims of financial scams perpetrated by all of their campaign donors, opponents of the extension (a mostly united GOP and a dozen Democrats) are refusing to budge unless the cost of the benefits are balanced by cutting an equivalent amount of rent, food and diaper money from elsewhere in the budget. These same fiscal watchdogs are also refusing to

budge when it comes to their plan of handing over the equivalent of a brand new Mercedes to rich folks every year, a $700 billion tax cut to wealthy earners that will not have to be offset by spending cuts elsewhere. Amidst all the monetary turmoil, there is a bit of good news in the job market as a new report from the Center for Responsive Politics highlighted one booming industry that all you job seekers out there might want to consider: Congress!

The bicameral hucksters on Capitol Hill have proven themselves recession proof. And in an age where talk of austerity is all the rage, federal elected officials saw their collective personal wealth increase more than 16% from 20082009, otherwise known as the year that the snafu shit hit the fubar fan. In response to this report, Vice President Joe Biden is overseeing the creation of a new government relief agency, and readers who suffered losses of pensions, homes, or life savings are encouraged to file an online claim at www.heycongressiwantmymoneyback.gov.

Friday 11/19

Oh yeah... a principal in Chester, NY, does his best Jeffrey Jones impression amidst allegations today that he entered the home of students Robert and Vincenzo DiQuattro in an attempt to catch Vincenzo lying about TIM SULLIVAN the illness that had kept him from attending classes. Principal Ernest Jackson, of the Chester Academy, allegedly took it upon himself to go to the DiQuattro home, whereupon he proceeded to let himself in without warning, and walk upstairs to check the boy's temperature by putting his hand to Vincenzo's forehead.

When the elder brother called his mother to tell her what was happening, Jackson ran out of the house, telling the boys that he would "see them at school." The DiQuattro patriarch is attempting to have the principal removed from his post, calling him "sick in the head."

Upon hearing the news, actor Matthew Broderick voiced his support and offered to the cover the legal expenses of the family should they decide to take any action against Jackson or the Chester Academy. Chicka chicka...

Saturday 11/20

With the roaring success of Ducks football this season and an eye towards building a lasting dynasty, Phil Knight spokesman Richard Lariviere announced plans to construct a new football operations center on campus next year. The new building will feature a 25,000 square foot weight room, a full-service dining hall, player's lounge, recruitment and planning offices, and an exciting new opportunity for Nike's research and development team. In a related story, university officials reported that they are currently considering a proposal to just say, "Fuck it," finally drop that boring academic stuff and make that long-awaited move to the UFL.

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KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE TRUTH! Contact us with news tips and classified briefings, local and international. editor@bangpaper.com NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

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EUGENE'S 2010 LEAF PROGRAM

by MIKE SEAGER

What cyclists should know

TIM SullIVAN

F

all is perhaps the most dangerous time of year for cyclists in Eugene. The days get shorter and the rain returns, requiring car drivers to pay more attention to the road and our safety. It’s not unusual for a bike commuter to ride both to and from work in the dark, and the window for daylight recreational cycling shrinks to less then twelve hours.

And then there’s the leaves… and acorns, and sticks, and rocks, and whatever else happens to drop or get blown in to the bike lane this time of year. The leaves stack up, hiding potholes and other debris, or stay thin and wet, making an ice-like surface. Sometimes they pack deceptively tight and kick your wheels out to the side like you’ve hit a curb—making even minimally blocked lanes dangerous. Bike

lanes often become unrideable, especially at night, forcing riders to “take the lane” or risk a crash.

Luckily for us, the City of Eugene is on our side. This is the second year of the city’s new leaf program. This is a marked change from the previous program, which actually encouraged people to pile leaves in the bike lanes. The fliers distributed by the city even had a graphic of leaves neatly stacked in the middle of a bike lane, somehow still leaving room for a cyclist and water drainage.

Under pressure from bike advocates and the City Council, city managers changed the leaf program to its current form during the fall of 2009. Instead of encouraging landscapers to block the bike lanes, they decided to enforce already existing city ordinances that make it illegal to block the public right-of-way, including bike lanes, with leaves and debris. They also designated twenty-five miles of bike lanes as “high-priority” for weekly cleaning and created a website where cyclists could report blocked bike lanes. The River Path is also cleared by leaf blowers about once a week during leaf season.

Landscapers and private property owners were confused by the change and continued to block bike lanes with leaves. Riders document-

ed much of this on the Flickr group, Eugene Bike Accessibility Issues. Advocates worried that the city’s frequent cleaning of bike lanes might actually encourage people to fill them with leaves. City officials addressed these concerns at a March 2010 Bicycle and Pedestrian Advisory Committee (BPAC) meeting.

City officials explained that 2oo9 was especially successful because the weather cooperated. The same crews that clear bike lanes also deal with snowstorms and flooding, and the lack of weather issues this year allowed them to focus on leaf collection. Seventeen thousand cubic yards of leaves were picked up in the 2009 season. This was slightly more than the previous year. Most were delivered to citizens and community gardens, and only four hundred cubic yards (2%) were taken to recycling areas. None of the leaves went to a landfill.

An additional leaf vacuum was able to clear the priority bike lanes fully every week, with the exception of three weeks that contained holidays. I found the lack of weekend and holiday cleanup to be one of the failings of last year’s leaf program, since lanes that were blocked on Friday stayed blocked until at least the following Monday.

There was concern among cycling advo-

Future of an illusion

by MOTO

I

n a perverse society, holidays are especially grotesque. The gross commercialization of generosity and good will that is Christmas is well known, and lately Columbus Day, has been getting a welcome dose of historical reality. But as I see it, Veteran's Day is the most egregiously mythical. The problem isn’t myth per se, but when myth, credulously accepted and emotionally defended, serves opposite its supposed end, orienting not toward common good but common destruction. There's

cates about whether or not the clearing of the blocked lanes promptly was rewarding the bad behavior of the offenders. City officials assured the BPAC that direct personal contact was made with the offending resident or property owner almost every time a hazard was reported, and in the absence of direct contact, fliers and postcards explaining the new policy were left.

The city also sent a representative out to local landscaping companies to explain the new policies. According to the officials, there were very few repeat violations. They also helped educate violators and other frustrated property owners about alternative methods for leaf disposal.

When you encounter a bike lane or path blocked by leaves, you can report it via the City’s website (www.eugene-or.gov/leaf) WBE’s Hazard Reporting Guide (http://bit.ly/reporthazards) or call (541) 682-4800. City officials prefer that people use their website rather than their phone number, because the website makes it easier to keep track of repeat offenders and assure that hazards are cleaned.

You can also upload a picture of the hazard to the Flickr group Eugene Bike Accessibility Issues. This creates a public record and you can include a link in the picture in your report to the City, aiding them in locating the blockage.

service cannot be printed endlessly out of thin air. Sadly, the value of service, however traumatic to however many, cannot be divorced from the value of the thing served. The last man to die for a mistake acts out the desperate defense of a hopeless cause. Good money thrown after bad can only ultimately debase the currency. The problem is not an absence of money but a lack of value. Thus do empires end in the bankruptcy brought by their own success in manufacturing consent.

if truth is the eneMy of the state then the dead are the Last Line of nationaL defense nothing worse than a sacred cow gone mad, and there is no more dangerous mad cow than Uncle Sam. After all, Santa doesn't order you to kill, and Columbus can't discover any New Worlds to completely fuck over.

The depth of the patriotic bullshit struck me particularly this year, reading a guest viewpoint on the R-G editorial pages by Jim Willis, director of the state Department of Veterans Affairs. The R-G chose to accompany the piece with an illustration of Uncle Sam as he appears in his famous recruiting poster, but giving a military salute above the words "I salute YOU." Sadly, a realistic portrayal would show Him giving the one finger salute instead. But—and here is the evil genius of the whole racket—the real mortal sacrifice of real people obscures the real character of the deity behind a romantic illusion. The naked emperor is clothed in the bodies of the dead and wounded, the transformed and traumatized.

To see him as he is would seem to dishonor the memory of those who have killed and died in service to him as he is supposed to be. If truth is the enemy of the state then the dead are the last line of national defense.

Effective as this defense is, the currency of 4

BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

Nowhere is the tension between currency and value more pregnant than in the soldier's oath to both defend the Constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic AND obey the President and attendant chain of command. Given that the federal government long ago normalized violation of the constitutional standard for making war, the soldier’s oath cannot be kept. It is an oath taken to two masters at war with one another. A soldier cannot both defend the constitution and obey orders that violate it.

It is the function of propaganda, like Mr. Willis’ ode, to mask this tension, and further, to conceal the greater division in society by idolizing the service of the soldier. The traumatic quality of this service, the tragic loss of innocence in conjunction with life and limb, renders the soldier uniquely qualified to clothe the naked emperor, mad Uncle Sam. The Usurper. Soldiers bodies are the threads of the flag he wears, their blood its stripes and souls its stars. Sadly, like most everything else in America these days—from food to furniture, clothes to computers—the outfit is made  in China.

The Tigress and the Turnbuckles BigFoot gym’s new female Muay Thai champion

Kicking ass is quite the easy feat for this young Eugene woman.

She won the USEACA 130-lb. championship belt November 6.

by Dante Zúñiga-West

W

alking into BigFoot Gym is unlike entering any of the other martial arts establishments in Eugene, Oregon. Veteran martial artists, who come to visit from other parts of the country, video cameras in hand, have commented that a gym of this nature is hard to find anywhere else. Reporters who have come to document either the gym and/or its fighters often gape at the humble yet barefaced authenticity they find. The creaky old warehouse just off of Bailey Hill and W. 11th holds decades of mystique, if not via the golden trophies and certificates lining the walls and shelves of the small office, then by way of the slightly worn-out heavy bags hanging above the mats, having taken the abuse of many a combative journeyman. It is a place that prides itself on the purity of its art form, Muay Thai, and a straightforward philosophy of acceptance for any would-be student who walks in the door. They don’t advertise anywhere, and only as of recent do they have a website. It is a word-of mouth sort of thing.

The gym operates in a fashion that could be described as both familial and militant, their homegrown instructors are kind, knowledgeable and quietly fearsome. Head instructor, Ajarn Mike Walrath, referred to by many as Oregon’s godfather of Muay Thai, has been teaching in Eugene for the last thirty years. Chances are, if you have learned Muay Thai in the state of Oregon you have most likely learned it from him or a student who trained under him. His gym has been referred to as a communal sanctuary, a gladiator school, a home; and it now has a new champion in Ms. Ciara Irvine.

The new USEACA 130pound championship beltholder is deceptively beautiful given the inherent ferocity of her chosen sport. One might imagine a belt-holding Muay Thai prizefighter to possess a garishly protruding Cro-Ma-

gnon like brow, or a twisted Bukowski-esque nose the color of turnip. Such is not the case for the fresh-faced, raven-haired Irvine, who even insists on wearing make-up in the ring because, as she puts it, “There’s no need to go in there lookin’ all homely.”

Ciara came to BigFoot Gym four years ago having never trained in any martial art or combat sport whatsoever. Like her close-knit fight team and the other instructors at BigFoot, she showed up and dedicated herself to Ajarn Mike Walrath’s school where, as the Ajarn says, “Each student is like a piece of artwork.”

Perhaps not so coincidentally, the Ajarn also happens to be a talented realist painter, whose huge canvas paintings can be found hanging in the gym, the mayor’s art show, and establishments throughout Eugene.

He has been known to take in what some would refer to as “at-risk youth,” placing them on scholarship to the gym and transforming their lives through the innate discipline of Muay Thai. Following the Ajarn’s example of devotion and stewardship, his older students are sometimes found staying after evening workouts to tutor their younger gym mates in English and mathematics. To these few, Muay Thai is a way of life, and a bond that connects them all.

For those who don’t follow the world of martial arts or have not yet seen the movie Ong Bak, Muay Thai is the national sport of Thailand and considered the most formidable type of stand-up fighting in the world. It originates from the ancient battlefields of Thailand. Muay Thai, also referred to as the science of eight limbs, utilizes punches, kicks, elbows and knees and looks a bit like American Kick-Boxing… minus the elbows and knees. The art form has received a great deal of attention recently as a result of the Ong Bak series as well as the growing popularity of the UFC and mixed martial arts. In point of fact,

former BigFoot Gym students have fought in the UFC, such as middleweight contender Chael Sonnen, who holds the Ajarn among his pantheon of marital artist mentors.

It was November 6 when Irvine took the belt in Tacoma, Washington. The Ajarn and her fight team watched as she stepped into the red-roped ring to do battle with Jessica “Bam Bam” Bartness in a fiveround war that went the entire distance. Bartness came out swinging, hitting Irvine with heavy punches, landing on the face of BigFoot’s willful and resolute tigress. Irvine never faltered. In the fifth round, the match had become a turnbuckle-to-turnbuckle war of attrition that Ms. Irvine navigated skillfully. Chasing down her opponent and drilling her with knees and straight right hands. At one point, Bartness attempted to execute a spinning back-fist, only to be shoved against the ropes and blasted with a left jab and narrowly missed by a deadly right knee from Irvine. Ciara quelled the swarming, usually aggressive Bartness with dogged advances that had “Bam Bam” back-peddling. It should be noted that this is a rarity, and Ms. Bartness is no softy. A veteran of several battles in the ring, she has been known to overwhelm her opponents.

When the fighting was over and the match went to the judge’s scorecards, the split decision was a well-earned victory seen on the face of the new champion as she leapt into the air. “We did it!” she screamed, looking upon her teammates and the Ajarn.

Ms. Irvine will look to defend her belt somewhere around November of 2011.

Days after the win, when asked what it feels like to be a champion, Irvine shrugged and said, “It feels good, but really it just felt like any other fight.

I’m glad I won.” She is looking forward to a brand new pair of boxing gloves, and the continuation of her journey as a  martial artist.

FLAVIA ZÚÑiga-west

Ciara Irvine winning with help from teacher Ajarn Mike Walrath and the BigFoot Gym fight team

stuff to do with your kids.

by BRONWYNN MANAOIS

h

ave your kids play sports. It may be a little late in the proverbial game, but my twelveyear old son just had his first ice hockey game this weekend. It was one of those rites of passage/ growing pain things that he and I both had to go through.

He woke up the morning of with butterflies in his stomach, not able to eat the big, burly breakfast I made to send my little guy into battle. He wanted to be at the rink early to shoot some pucks. I dropped him off without so much as a hug goodbye. Too embarrassing.

As his team skated out to the ice, I was nervous and excited for him. I wondered if he was scared, recalling the feeling of trying something intimidating for the first time. When he got some play, I instantly became one of those parents. I screamed, stomped, secretly wished he were a superstar in skates. I gloated that he was one of the sturdier boys on the team.

When he fell and became a cushion for another (bigger) kid, I squirmed. I saw him shake his head, trying to toss off the dizzy pain. He limped back to the bench, and I had to resist the urge to go to him.

That’s my baby! But he’s not a baby anymore. I left

the job of making sure he was okay to his coach.

He was fine after a minute, even though those seconds seemed like an eternity.

I took a million pictures, and an hour later the game was over with a tie. He bounded out of the locker room a new kid. He had his first taste of battle and even had a good fall to boast about. His smile competed with the glare of the ice for brilliance. I finally realized it was cold.

After a short break, where he was still too amped to eat, it was on to game two. You could tell the boys were tired. They got whooped. Apparently, the coach told them they couldn’t play hockey. He cursed and spat, according to the coach protocol manual, I presume. Not exactly on my style sheet, but I guess I have to accept his efforts.

My son came out, looking strained and defeated.

He wouldn’t hear our praises. He went home with his dad, and I left feeling like I had been through the wringer right along with him. Later that evening, he called to tell me in no uncertain terms to “get over it,” and “not to freak out.” Words of wisdom from my newfound warrior.

Now, if he can just keep all of his teeth until the  NHL. NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

5

by Allihalla & Miss Amelia Hart

Business g oth

"I'd like to wear a rainbow everyday and tell the world that everything is okay. But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back. Until things are brighter, I'm the man in black." —Johnny Cash here is an eternal conflict on how to rock and roll and still look like a legit business professional.

How to be taken seriously without being stuffy or false. How to get the money and still look great, duh!

My newest solution to this vicious problem is a look I'm calling "business Goth." Imagine a grown up American Siouxsie Sioux. Imagine The Craft after graduation. Imagine if Wednesday Addams shook out her braids and became a jewelry designer.

Imagine if all of your dates were with guys who looked like Nick Cave and he bought you $40 wine and you drank it in the cemetery and then

went back to your loft and lit some candles and talked about how dark and deep your feelings are. Imagine all of this. I am.

In recent years, Goth fashion has come to be monopolized by Hot Topic and done all wrong. It's become synonymous with assholes at the LTD station and sloppy, pudgy girls with blotchy home dye jobs. I don't want to see the baggy jeans and fishnet shirts I know some of us were guilty of wearing as local teens. I want to see tight black pencil skirts with fishnet stockings with dark lipstick and eyeliner that comes to points on the inner and outer corners. I want my men in blazers and

AMELIA HART is a hair and makeup artist at Dawn Baby Salon. After work, you'll find her watching The Crow and thinking about eyeliner. A lot of eyeliner.

brooding and literary. Fishnet shirts are unforgivable and dated. Fishnet stockings are classy and sexy and timeless.

The "business Goth" look is perfect for the bleak economic garbage we call 2010. Times are tough and we need to step it up, appearancewise. Let's get away from the neon white heat of summer and embrace the dark gloomy winter. It's going to be a long one. 

photos by KALEIGH HARRIS necklaces from FOREVER 21 and PASSIONFLOWER

ALLIHALLA is a local designer and seamstress. She is planning new "Goth-inspired" winter fashions, including lace insert leggings and draped convertible cardigans.

A war worth fighting I

STEVEN WEEKS

6

BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

looksgreatduh.blogspot.com http://hautemacabre.com for more inspiration

BY JASUN PLAEDO WELLMAN

used to think that I was a pacifist. I've given speeches and ing white blood cells have, go to bed. Sleep. Rest. written poems about the travesties and casualties of war. I've Okay so you can't sleep. You’re miserable. It feels like the encried while thinking of martyred pacifists like John Lennon emy has got you by the throat and has stuffed your nose with and Mahatma Gandhi. I've held signs decrying gas tanks filled snot. Gargle some salt water to combat the enemy in the throat. with blood and screamed 'Peace' while marching with protesThe salt water via osmosis will dehydrate the bacteria causing tors in the streets. the throat swelling to diminish. Highly acidic drinks such as apNo More. I'm no longer a pacifist. This does not mean that ple cider vinegar and lemon juice will also be hostile to bacteria I support the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Quite the contrary, in the throat. To de-snot the sinuses, stand over a pot of boiling I do not support the Vietnam War, any impewater with some lavender and cloves thrown rialist war, or even the war on drugs. Bluntly in as decongestants. Then burn out the enemy get clean. spoken, I think all of these wars are stupid and with cayenne pepper and drop some garlic wasteful. bombs on those parasitic party-poopers. It get healthy.

However, I do support meaningful war. In hurts, I know. Make the pain feel good. Imaggo to sleep. fact, I'm writing this article from within a warine the enemies burning to death. To calm the zone. For some kind of bacteria or virus, some fires in your mouth, pour some honey into kind of invading enemy is wreaking havoc on my body—runny your throat. You deserve some sweetness. Plus, honey is antinose, fever, sore throat, aching muscles, fatigue—it ain't pretty. bacterial and great for soothing sore throats.

But do not despair my comrades. For this is a war I am intent While you have the honey out, why not make some tea? on winning. In fact, I have been making significant gains to reSteep echinacea, ginger, cinnamon stick, chamomile and thyme store health and order to the holy land I live in. And in case you for fifteen minutes. Then add some lemon and honey. The echiget bombarded with symptoms of a similar sickness, I want to nacea is heavy artillery as the ginger soothes the pain and the share my strategies for survival so that we may both be victoricinnamon fortifies the immune system. Try sleeping again, this ous over these enemy invaders. time elevate your head to reduce pressure on your sinuses. ReFirst off: secure the perimeters and contain the enemy. Stay member, rest is best. inside; we don't want to encourage the enemy by sneeze-spreadIf you still can't sleep, try making love. Yes, that's right, get ing it through society. Also, cleanse your hands of the enemy your hippie on, and make love, not war. Studies have shown that with hot soapy water. Next in order: Recruit and support the men and women who make love at least once a week have hightroops. Vitamin C will act as a vehicle for propaganda encourager levels of immune-system molecules called immunoglobulin ing the production of white blood cell soldiers. Once we have A than celibate individuals. As an added benefit, the sweet fricrecruited troops, we need to hype them into a frenzy. Zinc will tion of physical exertion may cause enough fatigue for you to do this, as studies have shown that zinc increases white blood finally sleep. cell production and encourages the cells to fight more aggresAnd if you must fight dirty and use cough syrup, as they say, sively. Now, it is time to deploy one of our secret weapons: Vita- "all is fair in love and war." min E, which enhances the production of B-Cells, the immune Get some rest and then make a big batch of homemade cells that produce antibodies that destroy bacteria. Finally, we chicken noodle soup to pave the road to recovery. Most impor need to maximize the amount of energy that the bacteria fighttantly, do not lose faith, one day peace shall come.

FEED ME, EUGENE!

local eats

with Meg

an Hinkel

YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT? R Why dwell on the crap? Let's get to the good stuff

That’s me at the Country Fair with a big smile and a fruit salad. Fuck you

ecently I asked the editor of this fine panot only exist, but that serve REALLY GOOD per for feedback about this column. She FUCKING FOOD. I don’t have a lot of spare told me that the main criticism she’d retime, money, or word count to go around ceived was that I was not critical enough. reviewing sub-standard dining. Don’t we all Ooookay. Whether you readers are simply already know how shitty the service is at Corbloodthirsty or just want a more fair and balnucopia? How overpriced the food is at the anced perspective of the Eugene food scene, Rogue Brewery? How much most of the food I’ll do my part to keep you happy. From now sucks at McMenimans? That persistent Café on, if I find negative things to say about the Yumm aftertaste? That ‘special feeling’ you get places/food I review, I’ll let you know. after you eat Burrito Boy? How all the food at However, you’ll probLaughing Planet tastes the ably still be disappointed. same?

My main guiding principle Do you really want me to tell Who the fuck cares? Do for how I live my life is that you really want me to tell you there is PLENTY of negativ- you where to go for crappy where to go for crappy service ity, despair and assholishness service and mediocre food? and mediocre food? I choose in the world, and if I can to be positive because ultithink, speak, and do things mately, I am extraordinarily to counter-balance this overwhelming global pessimistic about the future of this planet and momentum towards all things terrible, then I humans—a species whose current overriding can die happy knowing I did the best I could impetus is to plunder the earth of all its natuto not make the world worse than it already is. ral resources as quickly and wastefully as we When I am excited about something, when can. I chose to extol the many virtues of the I have a positive experience somewhere, it is local food scene because local food is imporpart of my life’s work to share that information tant. Really important. The global food system with others. My bad for thinking BANG!, an that allows us to drive to a giant grocery store independent newspaper, could be a vehicle to buy apples from New Zealand, oranges and for social change. I guess it’s just a place where coffee year-round is made possible through people come to read petty insults and find out the abundant availability of cheap energy, everything that’s wrong in Eugene. which in itself is a misnomer. The more we can People, I grew up in Raytown, Missouri— start to eat Here and Now, the better off we’ll an isolated, cultureless suburb in the desolate be when our current anomalous historical sprawl of the Kansas City metro area, where context implodes under the weight of its own sole proprietorships are a rare and suspect impossibility. alternative to the same chain restaurants you The world is full of problems, but it’s also can find at every single town and truck stop full of solutions. There are many people trying in America. A town where if you order a salto steer us away from our impending doom. If ad with no meat, they’ll bring you one with you were hoping that my column would begin chicken. “I’m sorry,” you’ll say, “I didn’t want to consistently undermine the good-hearted, meat on my salad.” “It’s not meat, it’s chicken," sincere efforts of folks who care as much as they’ll reply.

I do about this community and our access to So you’ll just have to excuse me if I get exhealthy, delicious food, it will be my joy to cited about things like vegan food carts that consistently let you down. 

The Old Woman and the Pizza

T

he door has a Fire-Med sticker posted in its upper-left-hand window. I knock, holding a large pizza in my other hand. The pizza has three kinds of animals on it, and two kinds of cheese. No one answers the door. I wait a quiet moment, and then search for a doorbell. There isn't one. No indication, no sight nor sound of movement from inside. I knock again, this time louder.

My knuckle stings and the brisk weather amplifies it. A light breeze tickles my nose. I allow enough time for these sensations to sink in before executing a final knocking in my "rule of threes."

The pizza smells good as I stand there patiently.

I listen to my stomach and begin to believe that there is nobody inside the house. I'll have to call the customer to make sure, before I drive off devouring slice after slice, greasing up my steering wheel (it makes work easier). Walking back to the driveway I glance through a large front window into the living room. There, on the sofa, sits an old woman slumped forward, her eyes closed. Her mouth hangs open. I take a step closer and chuckle at the sleeping woman. She'll simply have to wake up.

by Dylan Kennedy It's my job. With mischievous excitement I knock, pounding out the rhythm of an odd number. The house shakes. The large front window vibrates, slightly. I give her time. I give her more time...

This is officially absurd. I become uneasy, trying not to make assumptions. One more look through the front window. She's still there in the same position. Head down, shoulders forward. Her eyes are still closed and her mouth is still hanging open. Is she breathing? I hold very still—hold my breath and squint, focusing my eyes to detect the faintest hint of life. She remains motionless.

Courtesy be damned, I let loose a fist of fury, beating at the door. Bang bang bang bang! I listen hard, imagining what steps I'll have to take, dreading an emergency. Then I hear a soft shuffle, moving toward the spot where I'm standing. The door creaks open and there she stands, swaying like a

reed in the wind. I have awakened the dead! She looks me up and down and puffs a little noise of surprise. "Oh! You're here." She stares at the square delivery bag in my hand. "Come on into the kitchen and set that down." Dazed and relieved, I follow her through her musky living room toward a yellow linoleum floor. Halfway there she stops.

"I might need some kind of help with this," she says.

"Would you like me to call someone for you?" I ask. She points a bony finger toward the street.

"Yes please. Go out front," she explains, "to the red car parked just out front, and get Sylvia."

"There's someone out front in a red car?" I ask her, trying to get this straight.

"Yes," she confirms, "Just tell Sylvia to come in."

I go to the sidewalk, moving toward the red car, and immediately see there are no passengers with-

in. I return to the living room. "I'm sorry, there's no one in that car."

"Are you sure?" she asks, disbelief quivering in her voice.

"Yes, pretty sure."

"Hmm, that's strange." she concludes.

"Yes," I reply. "Strange."

She hobbles into the kitchen and gestures to a quaint breakfast table.

"Just set it right here," she gargles. "That's fine."

I place the pizza on the table and thank her—for what, I'm not quite sure. I begin to head for the door, but she is already there, blocking my path. "Well, have a nice day." she says. She shuts the door and walks back to her sofa. I am still in the living room, at a loss for words. This is my chance to exit, I suppose, so I open the door to let myself out. Standing on the front stoop, I begin to close the door.

"You have a nice day as well."

"You can come in whenever you're ready," she informs me.

I pause, the brass knob in my hand.

"Okay," I tell her. "Thank you."

Before my next delivery I double-check the address for this order. I look at the numbers posted on the front of the old woman's lonely house. They are a perfect match.  NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

7

volume I

number

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24. 2010

THE SEASON FOR

LEAFBLOWERS FROM HELL

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springfield You never know what you'll find

SPRINGFIELD ARTWALK

ARTIST DISCUSSION AND CRITIQUE AT THE VOYEUR

am an elitist. I don’t like Springfield for its art; i like Springfield specifically for its artlessness. Junk & thrift shops, Hawaiian Elvis Diners, strip clubs, the mall, etc. As the Eugene Storefront Art Project has exploded in Springfield, i am conflicted with the idea of art in Springfield in general. Or rather, self-conscious art in Springfield. Anyhow, me and Amelia Hart made the Springfield art scene to see what was going on. It was 6:30, dark, and no one was out. We headed over to the Emerald Art Center. The ladies at the door said, “Hello again,” making me nervous.

The work presented in the main gallery was more of the same sort of naïve, but not naïve enough, overly self-conscious, but not paying attention to the right things sorts of work.

Landscapes. Portraits. Indians. There was a wall of kid’s art, which was a bit more exciting, specifically a piece by Nate Denton (pictured, bottom right). Mixing words and images in a crammed format emulates the graphic language of newspapers and is visually stimulating. The words chosen by Denton are an exciting mix of funny, naive and sad. “MY DAD HAS ONE LEG. SAKE” No wine again. Next door at the Springfield Museum was a display about the dangers of Polio, including the terrifying iron lung. This display really cast a weird feeling over me. It made me feel like i was living in a third world country, which we might be, depending on who you talk to. Then it came time to identify the storefront art. There was an awesome neon sign that said “jerky” at the butcher shop. In this funny little Mexican beauty parlour there was a dope “nails” sign.

Wow. We got dragged into the Sweety’s frozen yogurt shop that i obsess over but never go into. Their mascot, “Sweety” is pretty great, reminds me of 80s Scratch N’ Sniff stickers.

Sweety’s seems like they’re trying to be a model for a national chain type of operation, of secretly Christian frozen yogurt. The very enthusiastic man running the place made sure to tell me that Sweety’s is all about having fun, so i asked him if there was booze hidden behind the counter for me. “No booze in Sweety’s, but

o Bowen at the Voyeur gallery started hosting open artist discussions and critiques as part of the regular cycle of shows. This particular event was for the group show of Jill Mardin, Marilyn Kent and Bill Holderfield. It was fantastic to have three artists be so articulate when talking about their work and it really expanded the art to a degree that is very important. It was a small group in attendance, but with this as a regular thing, i could tell that it will push Eugene’s artistic envelope A LOT. On one hand, i felt like having the discussion could expand my reviewing potential, so i should wait until said discussions for my reviews. On the other hand, i feel that the art is best experienced without a lot of preamble and explanation. I don’t read artists statements for the most part

NOVEMBER 12

10

BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

we do have a back room for private parties.” “So, do you keep the booze in there?” “No booze!

Just frozen yogurt.” Man. The place did smell just like those teenybopper candy perfumes, which was kind of exciting, and got Amelia all stoked on upping her teenybopper elements. Homeboy was kind of crossing the line between enthusiasm and creepiness, so it was time to go. We passed by the Psychic Readings place and were entranced by the amazing art in the window. Lots of weird statues, including a wizard. I looked into the room and saw some people huddled around some chairs. It was so brightly lit and weirdly arranged in there, it didn’t conjure up the correct atmosphere for truly magical things. I decided to wait outside and see if they had strong enough powers to suggest that i enter, but nope. The parking lot that used to flank that ammo store, which is now a salon, has a giant American Eagle mural, painted right after 9/11. This is Springfield Art. “One nation under god.” On our way to the NEDCO building, the manager guy from there, i’ll call him NED, stopped and we asked him why it was so dead. He explained that it had been hopping at 5 with an appearance by Mayor Sid. Man. No wine, stuff dead at 6:30. Oh well, NEDCO had the bulk of the obviously storefront art in it, including a wild painting that Amelia called “autistic Pendleton style.” Most of the other work looked like repeats from last time or were not notable. Back up the street, there was that awesome stripper sign, which made the club almost enterable, but the booty bass was so wrong, why couldn’t they have been playing Mötley Crüe? The Latrines have had as one of their founding goals to be a regular band at the most perfect strip club in the area. If anyone knows which club this is, let me know. Finally we went down the Rabbit Hole, which was just about as weird as anything gets. A really wrong mix of handmade clothes, pottery, a side room full of Warhammer models and a back room with a band of teenagers playing Bowie off of sheet music.

I don’t know. It was pretty weird. 

NOVEMBER 17

either, because the art should stand on its own.

Anyhow, it ends up working out because the artists have already read my reviews of their work and so i’m able to expand on ideas or do smaller scale interviews with them there.

Importantly, Mo makes sure that the wine is flowing and so the awkward WALL OF CRITICISM is easily ignored and soon i’m yelling at artists for presuming that i am a rational male without the powers of intuition and as usual, arguing for the objective nature of my statements. In the land of NICE, Oregon, it’s very, very, very important to advance the conversation through these arguments and confrontations. Don’t take them personally, understand that you are helping Oregon to grow up and it can be a lot of fun.



IT’S ALMOST 2011.

HOOLIGLAM

T

DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THAT MEANS?

CAN YOU COMPREHEND? THINGS ARE SO CRAZY NOW, BUT THERE IS THIS BORING-ASS VENEER OF BOREDOM OVER EVERYTHING. THIS GELATINOUS FILM OF BOREDOM IS MADE FROM A MIX OF SHEEPISH PASSIVENESS, SEROTONIN REUPTAKE INHIBITORS AND WEED SMOKE. IT LAYS HEAVY ON THE PEOPLE. IT’S THERE FOR A REASON: CONTROL. BUT WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW IS THAT THE GATES ARE OPEN AND IF YOU CAN PIERCE THROUGH THAT GREASY VEIL OF BOREDOM, THERE IS A WORLD OF TOTAL EXCITEMENT AND CRAZES TO BE HAD. THE FAST LANE IS THE OLD SLOW LANE.

THE MALL

T

HE MALL IS THE MOST EXCITING PLACE IN THE HUMAN SPHERE, BUT IT DOESN’T KNOW IT YET. IT’S LIKE A BABY THAT IS GOING TO TURN INTO PRINCE, BUT FOR NOW, EVERYONE THINKS THEY ARE JUST CUTE, DROOLING AND SHITTING THEMSELVES. BUT LOOK, THE MALL IS READY TO BE THE MOST AMAZING THING IN THE WORLD. WHILE PEOPLE ARE CRYING ABOUT THEIR DOWNTOWNS, THE MALL IS WAITING FOR THE PEOPLE TO SEIZE IT. IN A RAINY LOCATION LIKE EUGENE, THE MALL IS BEYOND IDEAL. YOU CAN HANG OUT THERE AT ANY HOUR AND IT’S ALWAYS THE SAME. IT’S LIKE LIVING IN OUTER SPACE. IN FACT, THE MODEL FOR SPACE-SHIP LIVING WILL COME FROM THE SAME CONCEPTS AS THE SHOPPING MALL. THERE IS NO REASON A MALL CAN’T HAVE GREAT NON-CHAIN RESTAURANTS, NIGHT CLUBS, BOUTIQUES, GROCERY STORES, HOTELS, ROLLER AND ICE SKATING RINKS, OFFICES, FOOD CARTS, ANYTHING. ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. IT CAN BE OPEN 24 HOURS. IT’S JUST A BIG COLLECTION OF SHOPS IN AN ENCLOSED BUILDING. ALL THOSE CAR HATERS SHOULD LOVE IT TOO COS GUESS WHAT, YOU CAN’T DRIVE IN A MALL.

THIS CAN ONLY BE COMMUNICATED IN ALL CAPS. I AM HERE TO POINT OUT HOW MANY OPTIONS YOU HAVE IN TERMS OF EXCITEMENT.

by Sean Äaberg*

HE SUBCULTURES OF GLAM ROCK AND SKINHEAD HAVE NEVER SEEMED COMPLETE TO ME. GLAM IS TOO PONCY, SKINHEAD IS TO OUCHY. MIX THEM TOGETHER AS THEY WERE FROM THE BEGINNING AND YOU’VE GOT THE PERFECT MIX OF HARD AND SOFT. MOST IMPORTANTLY, THE MUSIC IS THE BEST: STOMP BOOGIE. IT HAS THE SAME TEMPO AS MOST DANCE MUSIC BUT IT ROCKS AND IT SPEAKS THE LANGUAGE OF YOUNG, ENERGETIC HUMANITY. IT IS FUCKING MUSIC, MAKES ME WANT TO DRIVE MY CAR OFF THE ROAD AND THROUGH A BARN. THIS ALL COMES FROM THE SLADE, WHO WERE INITIALLY MARKETED AS “THE FIRST SKINHEAD BAND” BUT QUICKLY BECAME A GLAM BAND, TAKING THEIR AUDIENCE OF FOOTBALL YOBS WITH THEM. THIS WOULD LEAD TO THE PHENOMENON OF ENGLISH FOOTBALLERS DRESSING LIKE A MIX OF CLOCKWORK ORANGE AND DAVID BOWIE, AND KNOWING HOW TO RUCK. THIS IS WHY GARY GLITTER’S ROCK AND ROLL PART II IS A SPORTS ANTHEM. WHEN PEOPLE TALK ABOUT PUNK, THEY TEND TO IGNORE THAT THE ENTIRE FORMULA EXISTED WITHIN THIS GLAM/SKINHEAD MIX THROUGHOUT THE SEVENTIES, OR IN BANDS LIKE THE NEW YORK DOLLS AND THE DICTATORS IN THE USA. WITHOUT THE CONTEXT OF ENGLISH CIVILIZATION, NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE, BUT POUR YOURSELF A CUP OF TEA AT FOUR, SWEEP YOUR FLOOR, POLISH YOUR BOOTS, FIX YOUR EYE SHADOW AND GLOSS YOUR LIPS COS IT’S HAPPENING. IF YOU’RE COOL I’LL MAKE YOU A MIX.

HARD GAY

A

FTER THREE DECADES OF DELIBERATELY FEMME OR OBLIVIOUS MALE CULTURE, THE RUMBLINGS OF THE MAN ARE BEING HEARD ALL OVER THE PLACE. WHEN I WAS A KID IN THE ‘80S, ALL OF THE ‘70S MACHO CULTURAL ELEMENTS HAD BEEN ABSORBED BY THE GAY SCENE AND THEREFORE, IT WAS CONSIDERED GAY TO HAVE A MOUSTACHE, CHEST HAIR, TIGHT JEANS, DRESS LIKE A ‘50S BIKER, BE INTO LEATHER, SMELL GOOD OR EVEN WEAR PROPER UNDERWEAR (ANIMAL PRINT BRIEFS). EVEN THOUGH “GAY” IS SHORTHAND FOR WEAK, THERE IS AN ENTIRE WORLD OF GAY WHICH IS OVERTLY MASCULINE AND STRONG, WHICH IS WHAT WE MEN WANT TO BE. THE GREEKS VIEW ON SEXUALITY AND GENDER ROLES WAS THAT THE MAN IS THE ONE WHO DOMINATES, AND THE WOMAN IS THE ONE WHO SUBMITS, BUT IT DIDN’T REALLY MATTER IF THEY WERE BIOLOGICALLY MALE OR FEMALE. WE ALL OBSERVE THIS IN LIFE TODAY, EVEN IF IT IS NOT ARTICULATED IN THE PUBLIC SPHERE. THERE ARE SO MANY COUPLES WHERE THE WOMAN IS CLEARLY DOMINANT AND THE MAN COWERS AND TRIES TO HIDE. ANYHOW, SOMEWHERE IN THIS SPECTRUM IS HARD GAY, WHICH IS SUDDENLY TRANSITIONING FROM BEING GAY, TO BEING STRAIGHT. FOR TIPS, WATCH BRANDO IN “THE WILD ONE”. ALSO, PUNCH UP “HARD GAY” ON YOUTUBE. AAAAND, TOM OF FINLAND. CONNECTION: SUZI QUATRO (GLAM) HAS A GREAT SONG CALLED “THE WILD ONE.”

ELECTRON VARIATIO ICA AND ALL NS THERE OF OOK, I L WAS V

ER EARLY TECHN Y INTO ACID OUT, B O WHE HOUS UT AS E AN N “RAVE RS” I SOON AS I M IT WAS COM D KNEW ING ET SO TO BE ME THA TODAY A RELATIVE T THIS WO ACTUAL ULD H , IT’S 2 LY PR AV IV 010, R ONLY WAY. OCK A ATE INTERE E ND RO S LL IS T T. HE

WHAT'S NOT COOL EW MULLETS N E H T E R A S K MOHAW VEKIDS AND

HILLBILLY , IT E LITTLE MOHAWKS VER SINC STARTED GETTING E TH E R E S AT THEY W RIZON GUY COME CLEAR TH E LY G AV H IN R LA ETS BECAME G 000S. MULL EIR INITIAL EMOF THE 2 OF TH R A LE MULLETS C , BUT ARE NOW N’T KNOW BACK AND E YOU DID OUT. UNLESS S A C IN ENT, ND BARASSM ALLY BEYO SIGUE ARE ACTU ONE LIKE FY O O P , MOHAWKS E ID W , IG B ).

O A YOU GET ARE IN ALS TNIK (WHO SIGUE SPU

E

STEAMPUNK

T

BEARDS

T

HIS IS A DUH, BUT IN TIMES OF CULTURAL GENERATION, DESOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO MIND PEOPLE RETHAT WHAT TH EY LIKE OR AR ING IS NOT UN E DOLIKE WHEN DO GS EAT CAT SH IT.

HERE IS ACTUALLY A WHOLE SYSTEM OF RULES AROUND FACIAL HAIR THAT MOST PEOPLE HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT. BUT BASICALLY, IT INSISTS THAT BEARDS ARE FOR OLD MEN AND MOUSTACHES ARE FOR MEN IN SMALLER LEVELS OF AUTHORITY DEPENDING ON SIZE. I DON’T DISAGREE. WHEN THE BEATLES AND THE BEACH BOYS GREW BEARDS IN THE LATE ‘60S, THEY TURNED THEIR BACKS ON EVERYTHING THAT ROCK AND ROLL STANDS FOR, AND MADE THEMSELVES LOOK DELIBERATELY OLD AND WISE AND THUS, BORING.



* SEAN ÄABERG is a bubblegum chewing Frankenstein’s Monster from Oakland, California. He is a commercial and fine artist, drummer for the Latrines, maker of the coolest buttons around and a proud family man.

You can contact him at SEAN@BANGPAPER.COM or GOBLINKO.COM

NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

11

TAKE A RIDE ON THE CHEAP SIDE BOOKS ON A BUDGET with Sarah

Ruppert

Like many others in these hard economic times, I am the victim of an expensive habit I can no longer afford. Hi, my name is Sarah and I am a bibliophile.

I

s there anything like the smell of a bookstore? Anything like the feel of a good cover under your fingers? Anything like the thrill of breezing through the aisles and pulling out titles that will entertain, educate, enlighten, and generally make you more awesome?

But those days are long gone. When the choice is rent and groceries versus a $30 book, the adult in me, the person who would like to avoid self-induced poverty, must make responsible choices.

So, like a good addict, I have found a way to make it work on a budget.

Used books. Aged to perfection. Matured. Underappreciated. Hidden gems just waiting to be discovered.

Believe it or not, there are actually some amazing

THE DRIVER'S SEAT Muriel Spark 1970 $0.01 on Amazon

The Driver’s Seat by Muriel Spark is the story of the last days of Lise, a stranger of a protagonist, who goes on vacation in Europe and is murdered.

Relax. It might seem like I gave everything away but in fact, this very basic plot and the murder are literally just the tip of the iceberg. The New York Times called this book “so stark as to be nightmarish,” and I could not agree more. You know from the very beginning what Lise’s fate is going to be but, somehow, after finding out who this girl might be and what she might actually be doing, you will be completely shocked when the climax finally happens.

The Driver’s Seat, in many ways, reminds me of The Stranger by Camus (another of my favorite books that can easily be found in used-book sections). The protagonist is unknowable—you do

books out there not featured in Oprah’s Book Club, books that didn’t get a ton of press or elaborate displays or get turned into movies. There are books you have probably never heard of that will blow your mind without denting your wallet.

Your favorite book might be among them: the dustcovered, on-sale-for-a-dollar, obscure author, just waiting to be picked up and taken a chance on.

Consider me your guide through the bargain bin.

I will be digging up books that cost less than $5 and letting you know what is worth your time and what is in the bin because it actually sucks and not just because people can be prejudiced against the elderly and obscure.

not know Lise and you will not be able to relate to her—though, if you can, you should probably see a psychiatrist. I left this book in a slight daze, thinking I just read one of the most haunting, complex, and darkly-compelling-yet-lovely books ever written. Is that a contradiction in terms? Not after you’ve read this book.

I first encountered this book at the bottom of a bargain bin and took it home on a whim, and because I had a buck just burning a hole in my pocket.

I read it with skepticism and expected, as happens more often than not, a total waste of my time and a new book to try to pawn off on a charity book event.

By the end of page one, I was hooked.

The more I read this book, the more I love it.

The more I read this book, the more disturbed I become. The more I read this book, the more I notice and the more respect I have for Spark as a writer.

I wasn’t sure, at first, that this was the sort of book I should recommend—I wondered if it was too unapproachable or starkly different from the fiction people are used to. But I took a chance and suggested it to a few friends; I knew that I was correct in my adoration of this book when they turned the final page with jaws to the floor and wild, disbelieving blinking as they struggled to find the words to explain their awe.

Open your mind and dare to venture away from typical popular fiction. This book will leave you breathless and dying to talk to someone else who has shared the experience of Lise and her unex pected story.

FILM REVIEWS

by Ryan Nyburg

NEW FILMS! Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows: Part 1 I am apparently the last person on the entire Earth who does not care about nor has even the slightest interest in caring about Harry Potter. I haven't read the books. I won't read the books. If you tell me I should read the books, I will slap you right in the goddamned mouth. Why do people think they can convince me to read them by saying, "they're actually really good and really easy to read," or some variation on that theme? As if I hadn't been told that by every other person on earth, including the last two popes and a number of prominent congressmen.

I have reached a saturation point with this series and everything related to it and now refuse to have anything to do with it. As far as I can glean, Harry Potter is a douchebag. Rich, popular, never studies (but is great at sports), given loads of assistance

Woodpecker’s

Muse Gallery Presents...

“Personal Territories”

Drawing and painting by

Sarah Refvem Opening Reception December 3rd at 5:30pm The gallery is located at

372 W Broadway Eugene, OR

Between Lincoln and Lawrence

www.thewoodpeckersmuse.com

12

BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

and leeway because of his family connections and is treated like royalty through an accident of birth he had nothing to do with. What an asshole. I can excuse bland, black-and-white moral issues and jackhammer-subtle plays for sympathy in children's literature and cinema. But you can't have it both ways and expect me to look at it as adult entertainment without pointing out this bullshit.

The Next Three Days

Remake of a French thriller about a man who tries to break his wife out of prison after she has been accused of murder. The latest from the director of Crash so expect to have someone try to jab all your available emotional buttons at once. A difficult job, considering it stars Russell Crowe, whose entire emotional range these last few years has been limited to "man who just got hit in the back of the head with a shovel."

TOP TEN AT THE BOX OFFICE

1

M EGA M IND Mediocrity wins again in the war for cultural relevance, a war that currently looks like two fat guys wrestling over tacos in a pool of their own filth. Seeing bland, computer animated children's movies earn millions of dollars makes me want to vomit all over my own despair.

2 The

RED

UNSTOPPABLE From the folks who brought you the other recent train-centric action film, the Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 remake (how far does an action film have to sink to make you hark back to the charismatic charm of Walter Matthau?). This one just makes me want to watch Runaway Train with Jon Voight again. Director Tony Scott is the same person who brought us, in order of sliminess, Domino, Top Gun and Beverly Hills Cop II. He's taken a career that started out at the bottom of the artistic pit and has started hitting the bedrock with a pickaxe; desperately searching for new depths he can sink into.

3 4

DUE DATE This film just perpetuates the urban myth that Zack Galifianakis is funny.

SKYLINE Aliens visit earth with dire consequences. Even the preview for this makes it look like a scriptless special effects laser light show.

This film was literally created by a special effects company. The directors are the Brothers Strause, a la-de-da name for the two dicks who brought us the Alien vs. Predator sequel, aka "The Film So Bland We Actually Had to Steal Plot Points From Resident Evil to Get the Thing Moving." By the way, that film is the sum total of their feature film directing experience. Most of their work has been as visual effects guys for major blockbusters. So don't expect little things like "story" or "acting" or "rational behavior" to be high on the list of priorities here.

5

MORNING GLORY Faceless young actress plays up-and-coming producer, Harrison Ford plays grumpy has-been, and Diane Keaton plays post-menopausal bitch. You could randomly attach any plot at all to this and you would have come up with a more interesting story than the one it ended up with.

6

FOR COLORED GIRLS I really shouldn't bash on Tyler Perry too much. He found his niche and fills it with all his might. It's just that his films are such melodramatic shit and his sense of humor is about as funny as a scabies infection on a frightened child. Accidentally running over my own grandmother with a car would make me laugh more than any of his comedies, and his dramas are the kind that try to make you cry by giving you the emotional equivalent of a kick in the nuts, and then respond to your tears with some more nut-kicking followed by an explanation of how it will all be alright thanks to the power of individual perseverance and family commitment.

7

RED The geriatric funfest continues. I really wish there were decent action films being currently produced. Something with real stunts and real plots and actors with real hips. Alas, it was not to be.

8

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 2 There will also never be another good horror movie ever in the history of anything. Every year, I hope for at least one classic horror film, something good and well crafted, not a remake or a sequel, or a cheesy, straight-toDVD cheese fest beloved by out-of-work video store clerks. Every year, I die a little more on the inside.

9 10

SAW 3D Every time you go see one of these movies, some producer somewhere is laughing at your gullibility.

JACKASS 3D See above.



ALBUM REVIEWS

ď ž

BANG!'s family guide to recorded music HOW MUCH BANG? (ratings explained)

ď‚Ž

RICE CRISPIES

ď‚Žď‚Ž

POPPED BALLOON

ď‚Žď‚Žď‚Ž

CHERRY BOMB

ď‚Žď‚Žď‚Žď‚Ž ď‚Žď‚Žď‚Žď‚Žď‚Ž DYNAMITE

ATOMIC WAR

ATA GHOST Self-Titled EP 2010, Unsigned ataghost.com

H

ot on the heels of the Kevin Gilbert EP, Eugene's own Ata Ghost drop their first full-length like a ton of bricks mortared together loosely with big crunchy guitars and pop hooks. As first records often are, Ata Ghost is a mixed bag, cleverly bookended by it's strongest tracks. The chewy center of the record leaves a bit to be desired.

The dilemma introduced by placing all your heavy hitters at the front and back of your disc is that the middle tends to sag under the weight of the filler, and this record is no exception. It feels as if the record (and quite likely the listener) takes a hiatus from the opening of "Man With A Gun" to the last forty-five seconds of "Stiff Legs," which suddenly demands the listener's attention with a breakdown, slapping you from slumber just in time to enjoy the remaining gems the record has to offer.

ď‚Žď‚Žď‚Ž HIGHLIGHTS AND LOWLIGHTS "I'M THROUGH" Bennet Mohler's shift from crunchy electric to clean acoustic in the pre-chorus, coupled with a bit of falsetto crooning from singer/multi-instrumentalist Mychal Sargent, creates one of the more memorable moments on the record.

"MAN WITH A GUN" I'm not actually super-keen on this track, however, it does contain my new favorite piece of misheard lyrics, "Make sure to pickle your love."

"AT THE EDGE" Some of the most gorgeous instrumentation on the record.

The production on this track is a touch wonky, leaving some of Damian Harris' most interesting bass work on the record a little bit stifled. Still a standout track.

"CANADA" A repressed, seemingly mellow little ditty that slowly loses it's cool

as Sargent loses his, but then and singer for Circle Jerks from 1984-present has released a new reeling back in for an anthemic build toward the record's inevi- album which captures the energy, table end, the moody, beautiful, fury and urgency of the early and quite remarkably different, Black Flag recordings. Morris, "Obsessed With Our End" along with Dmitri Coats (Burning Brides), Steve McDonald (Redd As a first offering, Ata Ghost Kross) and Mario Rubalcaba (Hot doesn't disappoint. These boys are nothing if not ambitious. By Snakes/Rocket from the Crypt), the time of the release party for collectively known as OFF!, have this record, the boys already re- succeeded in recreating the force representative in early Black Flag corded Middle Sun, a follow up EP of three songs with more urgency, without sounding dated, “retro� intensity and genuine emotion or like they are simply trying too than anything on the full length. hard. Morris is in perfect form as he belts out the lyrics to “Now Hopefully this means great things to come for this handful of fresh- I’m Pissed,� “Panic Attack,� and faced local lads. “Fuck People;� all clocking in be—J. "FATTY" FINCH low a minute and a half. It is not at all apparent that Morris is in his mid 50s, as he has clearly not lost a step since recording the legendary first EP with Black Flag in 1978, Nervous Breakdown. Also OFF! featured in the album art itself First Four EPs are original works by well-known 2010, Vice punk and music artist Raymond offofficial.com Pettibon, who created the original artwork for Nervous Breakdown 1/2 and subsequent Black Flag reVINTAGE HARDCORE PUNK IN cords. The album is sixteen songs in 17.5 minutes of pure punk rock THE MODERN AGE Legendary punk rock front pissed-offedness, with never a man Keith Morris (Black Flag, lull, and never a skip of age, ego Circle Jerks) has collected a mass or compromise. If you have gotten of talent, in what could be consid- sour on modern punk rock and ered a rare combination of words; think it has all been washed out, a punk rock super group. Morris, I implore you try and re-establish who was the original lead singer some faith through this album. for Black Flag from 1976-1979, —COLLIN GERBER

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541.337.3926 NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

13

show REVIEWS

richard d. owens

HOW MUCH BANG? (ratings explained)



RICE CRISPIES

ALBUM

BASSNECTAR Timestretch

DATE

2010

ARTIST

Timestretch http://3.ly/h5wz

SELECTION

Maximum ft. La Methode – DJ Vadim (Bassnectar & ill Gates Remix)

LINK

http://3.ly/vDUS

SEE ALSO

BBC Radio 1 DJ Mix

LINK

http://3.ly/Yxbv

BLAST FROM THE PAST

with Richard D. Owens

ALBUM

THE BEATLES Blue Jay Way Magical Mystery Tour

DATE

1967

LINK

http://3.ly/sE9v

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2010

The Beatles catalog is finally released into Apple's iTunes store. This may seem insignificant to those of us who obtained copies of their music long ago, but the move has further bolstered iTunes' dominance of the retail music market. Who else has sold ten billion songs in just seven years? In addition, high initial demand has once again proven that The Beatles will forever epitomize the sound classic rock (to the point of inevitable backlash). Watch them on the charts, here: http://3.ly/XyD6.

To mark the occasion, I'm shining the spotlight on a song that's often overlooked among more fa-

richard d. owens

14

BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

CHERRY BOMB

  DYNAMITE

ATOMIC WAR



Digging through the crates in search of dusty grooves. Unearthing gems from the musical past. Breathing new life into the lost, but not forgotten…

SONG



November 14, 2010

assnectar. The first time I heard the name I knew I'd like the music. Anyone with the word“bass” in their name must make dope music. My first experience actually hearing him was at the WOW Hall in 2007. I was blown away by an undeniable festival vibe; I'm talking stilt walkers, furry booted ladies, fairy wings, multicolored dreads, etc. I saw my housemate there, grinning wide after eaten acid. Earth shaking sub-bass and hacked up beats fused with gnarly electro tones proved a perfect combo for moving bodies, sober or otherwise.

“Timestretch” overflows with filthy bass. Visit the link to hear for yourself. Though typically categorized as dubstep, Bassnectar's music blends genres and breaks through boundaries, often crossing into hip hop territory and even into some darker lullabies. The relatively new dubstep genre is full of permutations and continues to evolve as one of the most exciting advances in music today.

Check out his latest release “Wildstyle” or download the BBC Radio 1 DJ Mix for free with the link  on the left.

ARTIST

POPPED BALLOON

EISLEY

B

SELECTION



WOW Hall

BASS TO THE FACE, LONDON

LINK



BANG!'s family guide to live music

miliar tracks. You know, the ones that get played to death. If I were restricted to just one Beatles song, it would be “Blue Jay Way.” There's something eerie and upsetting about it. This is not bubblegum Beatles; this is psyched out and disturbing. The song leaves you confused, disoriented and uncomfortable. Flanging and delay effects create a depth of sound and it floats, lags, picks up speed, and drags itself out in strange ways. It's a refreshing song in that it doesn't sound much like other Beatles songs —and at forty-three years old, it still amazes.

Enjoy.



A

h, the soothing power and soft intensity of Eisley. While many acts derive potency from overwhelming displays of energy, Eisley's approach is more subdued. Dreamy lullabies are delicately balanced with heavy doses of fuzzy distortion. Carefully crafted, honey-dripped harmonies mainly delivered by a trio of female musicians soften rigid heartstrings. Each is capable of lulling listeners with voice, or spells cast from piano, electric or acoustic guitar.

Sunday's show at the WOW Hall was a part of Eisley's “Over the River and Through the Wood” tour. The WOW Hall was an ideal venue. The intimate setting made the intricate vocal play feel more personal.

At times recalling better elements of 90s alternative and shoegaze rock, Eisley's sound however, covers a richer spectrum of sound. Breathy vocals effortlessly flow though runs of notes that sound as if culled from a moment of abandon. Listeners are

lifted to peaks of joyful melody and pulled under layers of sadness, all of which sounds as honest as a broken heart. Two gentlemen provided solid rhythm with bass and drums to keep heads swirling, toes tapping and bodies in motion.

Altogether the band instills the feeling of a forlorn sleepwalk into an unrequited lover's room. The magic of the music is felt in one's chest. You find yourself wanting the songs to continue on endlessly, in spite of knowing full well they can't.

The performance was stunningly beautiful and rich with emotion. Enjoyable to watch, undeniably engaging to hear, and far too easy to love. The crowd was feeling it, deeply, and its enthusiasm was very well received. The band promised to return in the spring. If you love true music, real talent, and music that makes you actually feel something, treat yourself to the pleasure of seeing them yourself.

—ARTHUR CONRAD

ANDRE NICKATINA WOW Hall

November 6, 2010

DOPE!

A

s I entered the WOW Hall a very large crowd erupted with noise, celebrating the last performance. The high-energy ovation got me ready for more. The crowd immediately began chanting, “ANDRE! ANDRE! ANDRE!” Everyone was ready for Andre. They had been prepping for some time now— at the apartment, in the car on the way over, downstairs in the bar and/or standing out front.

Though ready, they'd have to wait. Before Nickatina or Eli (Smoove-E) took the stage, local MC Endr Won performed. He repped hard for the Northwest and each line of his storytelling, intellectual songs seemed to emphasize lyrical ability over glitzy production. His exertion in delivery included energy dedicated to the goal of communicating clearly over a muffled mic. His whole being seemed devoted to squeezing out each line, clearing the air so even the slowest minds could keep pace. To me, some of his crowd hyping seemed a bit forced, although many in the crowd were pumped by the interaction.

Next on stage was Smoov-E, bringing all the charisma and charm you'd expect from a pimp.

With his sharp suit, occasional electric guitar, and taboo lyrics he seemed like a modern hip-hop version of Chuck Berry. An interesting aspect of his performance was his popping. At breaks in songs, or between tunes, he'd recapture the crowd's attention with his precise moves. Sometimes these were so deftly executed they bridged into the realm of the corporeal mime. Scandalous songs about under-aged girls, taboo sex acts, and pimpin' seemed to please the crowd. At times however, I saw some confused faces searching about to find another just as uncomfortable. While some were frozen with shock, a majority began indulging in the highly charged atmosphere. Seemed like people were a bit sad and relieved when he left the stage.

The DJ dropped a particularly choice dubstep track to keep the crowd bubbling before the main act. If you've never heard it, go now: Bassnectar, "Bass Head." The powerful WOW Hall system was put to the test on this one as swampy bass and sloppy handclaps flooded the floor. People couldn't resist, slow motion swaying spread through the crowd. Mass gyrations absorbing waves of bass, a highlight of the show.

When legendary Bay Area rapper Andre Nickatina finally took the stage the crowd went insane.

As soon as the performance began the yelling and dancing started up anew. His fast attack on the mic is remarkable. The songs themselves sound kinda lo-fi, homegrown, like they were made in a basement studio. Rather than detract, this simply adds to the credibility and the persona of Dre Dog (Andre Nickatina). On stage, everything seemed in order.

Regardless, it's about the beats. Laid back, old school, West Coast classics all sounded solid and contained more syncopation than one might expect.

The crowd especially loved the performance of his and San Quinn's classic "A Yo" ("for yayo..." etc.).

At some point I started wondering how many words he said. I can assure you, there were many.

Lines are delivered with such speed one can hardly keep up. This becomes entrancing and engaging as one either attempts to take it all in, or give up and allow for full immersion. I could tell some of the more dedicated fans knew every word. Many times an outstretched mic invited them to join in.

Stripped down, raw talent and bare bones musical ability were on display here. No need for any frivolous stage excesses. His high quality performance was enough to satisfy the masses, and further solidify his reputation for being “dope live.”

—ARTHUR CONRAD

HOROSCOPES by Steven Jellybean Honeysuckle

Aries Mar. 21­-Apr. 19: Well, the holidays are upon

us, and a cocktail of gluttony, goodwill and trumping is about to be poured for everyone in America.

It will be served in a highball glass with a tinselfringed, toothpick-speared pimento olive for spirit.

Don’t bolt that beverage down because they’ll just keep pouring ‘em for you. Sip it, smash the glass when you finish and shout mazel tov.

TAURUS

Apr. 20-May 20: Fighting that sadistic sweet tooth can be a real bastard. Before you hit rock bottom and find yourself in a sugar coma, chocolate and coconut smeared across your cheeks, gummy bear limbs wedged between your teeth, jelly beans stuck in your nostrils, fight back. Take a stroll down the candy aisle and break a few chocolate bars. Snap a couple Skors.

Bust up some Butterfingers. Crush a Kit-Kat. Assault an Almond Joy. Go on attack.

Gemini

November 24, 2010

this month. Doubtless, you will be shopping your brains out, fist-fighting pregnant teens over stuffed animals and flat screen TVs, trampling the elderly for iPads and DVDs, and maxing out every credit card you have. Pace yourself. There’s a whole month of shopping delirium. You don’t want to pull something on the home stretch.

Scorpio Oct. 23-Nov. 21: Everyone’s got devils and demons. The question is what should you do with yours. Take him/her out for a steak dinner at the nicest restaurant in town and, after the meal, skip out through the restroom window. Book a rafting trip with him/her and show up at the river with your own inner tube. Sign both of you up for a bible study group but tell him/her it’s a book club. After that, you should probably lay low for a while.

Sagittarius Nov. 22-Dec. 21: It can be damned

May 21-June 20: So much of you is governed by weather, pulled and manipulated by atmospheric pressure systems that draw at your brain and blood, heart and sinews. It’s true, but it doesn’t always have to be such a one-sided affair being meteorology’s plaything. You can also make it yours. Look no further than the giant environmental experiment BP is conducting in the Gulf of Mexico. Take a cue from them. Try pouring battery acid down the kitchen drain or something.

tedious being part of the proletariat, mired in the mediocrity of a titleless existence in a nation without royalty. Well, the dull days of being a commoner can be through for you. Thanks to the hard and noble work of any number of websites, you no longer have to suffer the indignity of being appellationless. Seize the opportunity to take control of your life. Become a Baron, a Countess, a Lord. Join the ranks of the royal families soon.

It makes a great X-mas present.

Cancer June 21-July 22: The crooks are out spinning wool with their tortured tongues, pedaling and pushing little pills of spiritual materialism door-to-door like a pack of Mormons in the Pacific. That can really warp a warble. Have no fear.

You’re verbally vigorous right now, so go ahead and let them in. Instead of buying something, try selling them something. Maybe something like Egyptology, Cyber sexuality or Crowleyism.

Capricorn Dec. 22-Jan. 19: It’s a precarious planet

Leo

Aquarius Jan. 20-Feb. 18: Is cheese addiction de-

July 23-Aug. 22: Thanksgiving in America is coming and going. A few things you should want to be thankful for: gun laws that allow you to carry your sidearm with you to the local watering hole, food so fast you don’t have to leave your car to get it or eat it, packs of toilet paper big enough you could insulate a Hilton, TV so real you don’t need to leave your house, drugs that will help you wake up, go to sleep, be happy and everything else. Be thankful.

Virgo Aug. 23-Sep. 22: The long weekend will be

over before you know it and all of the relatives you were hoping to make time with will have gone home. Don’t take it too hard. X-mas is right around the corner. Sharpen your game over the next few weeks so you’ll be much smoother and wittier when you hit on your cousins and stepsiblings under the mistletoe.

Libra Sep. 23-Oct. 22: Capitalism begins its most radical, feverish cycle of warship on the 26th of

you’re on right now. It’s just wobbling away on its axis like a 90-year-old mill worker on rollerblades, the ocean is quickly becoming a giant saltwater spa, and the sun is stormier than a kid who gets underpants for his/her birthday (assuming they’re not Superman underpants, which are badass). Don’t count on anything right now except your fingers and your toes.

stroying your life? Do you find yourself in front of an open refrigerator at midnight two-fisting it, a baby loaf of Colby in one hand and a wheel of Swiss in the other? The dairy industry is controlling you. Cheese has morphine in it. Morphine!

Well, not real morphine. Casein actually. But it’s got morphine-like properties. Your brain has been addled by this opiate for years, every griller and every slice serving your habit. Will you fight back or be a cheese chaser for life?

Pisces Feb. 19­-Mar. 20: In the information age, everyone records everything and shares it everywhere, preferring to watch it on YouTube rather than seeing it live. Fame is heroism. It is only important that you surface above the chaotic hoi polloi. You can become a hero too. All you have to do is make an ass of yourself in front of a large audience and have it caught on tape. Easier still, get tased by some sort of security agency. Good luck! Hope you don’t have a pacemaker.

CROSSWORD PUZZLE NOVEMBER 24, 2010 11, bestcrosswords.com BestCrosswords.com - Puzzle #6 for November 2010 Across

1

1. Gettysburg general 6. Sleeps briefly 10. Payment for travel 14. Become liable for 15. Came down to earth 16. Roman poet 17. Product of condensation 19. Tear 20. Compass pt.

21. Incline 22. Vigor 24. Mournful cry 25. Blueprint detail 26. Oblique 29. Cotyledon 33. Existence 34. Enlivens, with "up" 35. Gymnast Korbut 36. Copied 37. Lawful 38. Scorch 39. Pious platitudes 40. I could ___ horse!

41. Perfidious 42. Losers 44. Leatherneck 45. Joan of art 46. Green land 47. Lament 50. Long luxuriant hair 51. Beast of burden 54. Baseball family name 55. Capable of being conceived 58. Bank deposit?

59. Greek goddess of victory 60. Pay for 61. Clockmaker Thomas 62. Attendee 63. Appears

Down

1. House rodents 2. Slaughter of baseball

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32. Sham 3. Skin disorder 34. Device with 88 keys 4. Failure 37. Knowledge acquired by 5. Soon study 6. Like Fran Drescher's voice 41. Mother and father 7. King of comedy 43. Narrow inlet 8. Casino area 44. Prefix for small 9. Most precipitous 46. Enthusiastic 10. The act of foreclosing 47. Low in pitch 11. Affirm solemnly 48. "Night" author Wiesel 12. Circular band 49. Shed feathers 13. Swirl 18. "She turned me into a ___! 50. Bring into existence 51. Busy as ___ ...I got better..."

52. Close with force 23. Actor Beatty 53. Goes down 24. Precarious 56. O Sole ___ 25. Photographic tone 57. 100 square meters 26. Fiber obtained from a banana plant BestCrosswords.com - Puzzle #2 for November 07, 2010 27. Flower-part Across I M A M S P A T S G E E K B A L I A T S E A H A R I 28. Property claims I N E Z N A T A L A T I P S U E Z C H A R L A T A N 29. Religious offshoots L E T Y O W T E N E R I F E W E A R S 30. Nicholas Gage book U N O N O R S E S L I N K R O T A N O T R E E L A N 31. Anew

Copyright Pyromod Software Inc. For personal use only. Not for publication.

1

1. Muslim elder and prayerleader 5. Short gaiters 10. Nerd 14. Indonesian holiday resort 15. Baffled 16. Mata ___ 17. Don Juan's mother 18. Birth-related 19. Take ___ from me 20. Egyptian canal 21. Fraud 23. Court call 25. Exclamation of dismay 26. Largest of the Canary Islands 31. Erodes 35. Numero ___ 36. Like Thor 38. Sneak 40. Roster 42. ___ Dame 44. Dash 45. Muscular tissue 47. Humdinger 49. Before 50. Concerned with a specific subject 52. Stand astride 54. Bumbler 56. Big galoot 57. Church festival of Feb. 2 62. Makes lace 66. ___ sapiens 67. Garlic sauce 68. Drug-yielding plant 69. Copied 70. Gandhi's land 71. Injectable diazepam, in military lingo 72. Unit of force 73. Beer mug 74. Back part of the foot

p r e v i o u s s o l u t i o n -------------->>

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Copyright Pyromod Software Inc. For personal use only. Not for publication.

NOVEMBER 24, 2010 • BANG!

15

A New Champion is Born

MISTER WHITEAKER

HEAVYWEIGHT

Alex Ihnat proves he has what it takes for the irrelevent crown Scenes from the Mr. Whiteaker Pageant, at the Wandering Goat, Nov. 20

W

SAVAGE, last year's Mr. "It's about influencing the kids"

ALEX IHNAT, winner "Dancing in the Whit"

e at BANG! used our celebrity status to get all access to the Third Annual Pageant, hosted by BoozeWeek’s Elliot Martinez.

Most of what we saw is only suitable for a Bgrade horror/porn flick. Booze! Shiny underpants! Tarted-up personal escorts! Catchy lyrics!

The stuff dreams, and apparently, The Whit, are made of…

The highlight of our evening was when retiring sovereign, Savage, drank from the copious Speedo beer fountain of soon-to-be winner, Alex Ihnat.

We scored an exit interview with Savage, and he was happy to pass on the heavy civic duties that come with the crown (which apparently got him a lot of action and free liquor.) At the time of the interview, he upheld his lofty position of celebrating the cultural enigma of the neighborhood, all while drinking two beers (we heard from the local teens that is called double-fisting.)

We also thought it was cool that the pageant floor hadn’t yet been mopped before we saw the new king dropped off to play a show at the Rock & Roll Basement. Something about punk rock unicorns makes the ladies go wild…



Nothing

feels like the

First Time...

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BANG! • NOVEMBER 24, 2010

1355 Willamette