Confluence
The
Cooked vs. Raw: A look at the PG Poetry War. -Page 3
Mic:
Winners Clay Nixon’s debut Announced:
Embridge ATM:
-Page 7
-Page 9
short-story.
Awards given.
-Page 8
April 2012
Matt Partyka shares his views.
Farewell liberal arts teachers.
NUCULAR POWER Sustainability Showcase Garett Svensen, IN THE NORTH Paul Strykkland, Contributor On the one-year anniversary of the earthquake and nucular accident at Fukushima, Japan, direcgtors of the Stoner Chamber of Commerce were demanding the development of nucular power in northern British Columbia and Alberta.
Production Editor
“Instead, they let some lattesipping liberals sap their will to get things done,” the editorial concluded.
of waste management and recycling. The “Prince George Public Interest Research Group (PGPIRG)” talked about the importance of composting. The CNC Library showcased its commitment to sustainability by selling its discarded books for $.25 apiece.
CNC hosted its first Sustainability Showcase March 29th in preparation for Earth day on April 22nd. The showcase appeared to be aimed at informing students of “greener ways to live.”
At the event were representatives from “Sew North Gifts,” the “University Farmer’s Market,” the “Stoner College officials should have went to Victoria to lobby “Prince George Farmer’s Market” and “The Green Sheep.” for this a long time ago,” thundered the Stoner Watchman in its editorial “Waste Management of for the Saturday edition. Canada” demonstrated greener ways
Joe Bosque, head of Forest Overturn Ltd., said environmentalists were ruyning the college and added forests are there to be turned into resources for shipping overseize. “Log it, burn it, pave it,” Bosque said. Concerning a seperate issue, Jim Rostock, MLA, called for replacing schools, colledges and libaries with the latest laptops to be provided directly to students, who couldl then look up any resource anywhere without the help of overpaid, timewasting instructors and librarians. “This is the way to keep taxes down in order to be atractiv to corporations and make the province globally competitive,” he told The Watchman.
The “Recycling and Environmental Action Planning Society (REAPS)” handed out helpful “waste reduction directories,” a list of businesses and organizations that can help reduce the amount of recyclable and hazardous waste that gets thrown in landfills. Don’t know how to dispose of paint or antifreeze? Check out the REAPS directory.
March 26, 2012
Who knows what evil lies in the heart of men?
Environment Canada 5-Day Weather Forecast: For Prince George, BC. 2-6 April 2012 Monday, April 2. High of 7°C. Low of -5°C. Mix of sun and cloud. Tuesday, April 3. High of 6°C, Low of 0°C. Showers, 60% POP
Check out our other April Fool’s Issue!
Garett Svensen, Production Editor
Andy Johnson, Editor in Chief
Contact and Submission Info: The Confluence is looking for submissions of any type from students, alumni and staff. The next deadline is: April 14th 2012 Send angry invective, self-indulgent contributions and jokes to: confluence.editor@gmail.com
Wednesday, April 4. High of 9°C, Low of -2°C. Thursday, April 5. High of 9°C, Low of -4°C. Friday, April 6. High of 10°C, Low of -5°C. Full Moon. 1 The Confluence
Send classified ads to: confluence.classifieds@gmail.com
The Shadow Knows
CNCSU Issues A Wererabbit Warning
CNCSU Contributor The CNCSU wishes to warn students about the possible wererabbit spotted on March 8, 2012 around the CNC campus. It is unclear at this time whether or not the wererabbit is a student, staff member, or if this was just a onetime occurrence. Students are being asked to travel in groups when on campus April 6, 2012, and are being encouraged to carry carrots, or an item made from silver. The CNCSU has also included this helpful hand out about what students should do if they find themselves be- Possible wererabbit sighting. ing attacked by a wererabbit: You can never be sure you’re dealing with a wererabbit until you’ve seen Identifying a wererabbit – them transform. Legends of wererabbits go back to the time of Arthur and his knights of the round table. In a historical context wererabbits are described as small as an average rabbit, but have large protruding front teeth and are highly aggressive. Although, the wererabbits that are reported in the modern age are generally average human height, have large hind legs, a fluffy tail and abnormally floppy ears, but the large extended front teeth are still present.
1. In human form sources claim that wererabbits have fine, light body hair, large low-set ears, large bright eyes that seem hypnotic and slightly larger feet then the average human. 2. In animal form the wererabbit will be much larger than an average rabbit and will often stand on its hind legs, raid gardens and/or hide eggs around yards. It is often a bad idea to attack a wererabbit due to most claims that while in human form, wererabbits are generally professional carpenters.
Defending yourself – While the first wererabbit was killed by the fabled “Holy Hand-Grenade”, wererabbits of modern day cannot be killed in this fashion. 1. Milkweed has long been thought to repel and sometimes even kill a wererabbit. Milkweed when ingested by an ordinary rabbit only requires ¼ of its total body weight to cause death. However, since the identity of the wererabbit is unknown, the CNCSU is discouraging the use of Milkweed.
‘White Rabbit Initiative’ Confirmed
Missy Fortune, Contributor Secret documents obtained from a CSIS contact has confirmed that an underground Canadian Military infrastructure will be constructed under the College of New Caledonia. The purpose of this base has yet to be confirmed; however, with the recent UFO crash 35 kilometres outside of Quesnel, BC it is likely that this base will be constructed in order to research the technology of that secured UFO and its occupants. This project, according to the documents, is called “The White Rabbit Initiative” and is set to begin construction in December 21, 2012. According the grainy photographs of the blue prints of the proposed base will take up most of the underground real estate underneath the College of New Caledonia. An underground Military facility such as this would cost around a staggering “$44,000,000,000,000 in black budget spendeture.”
2. Daisies and Daffodils are far safer options for deterring a wererabbit and have long been believed to repel the creatures.
It is too soon to tell whether or not this secret base will be worth the cost. Hopefully the outcome of this venture will benefit students. Such benefits will hopefully include student positions for those who wish to work while in school, technological advancements (such as the enertron, which would come in handy for those long study nights) to help lower student living expenses.
3. Aloe Vera – Many people pack around compact containers of hand-sanitizer that contains Aloe Vera. Lethality of Aloe Vera for a wererabbit depends on how much is consumed by the creature. This is the method of repelling the wererabbit which the CNCSU is endorsing for student safety.
http://cncsu.cfs-services.ca/en/student-saver
The Confluence 2
Cooked vs. Raw Dennis Schreiner Contributor In local news, there seems to be quite a big war in the little world of poetry, so much so that it’s managed to leak its way into the consciousness of those of us on the periphery of it, me being one of the peripherals in question. I will never claim to be a poet, though I do often like to attend the readings and gatherings of those who are (and think they are), as I find most literary expressions, on the part of anyone, to be quite positive, as creativity should always have a voice. But this war, if I may continue to term it as such, seems to be devolving into a disheartening polemic as to the acceptability of certain poetry/viewpoints being produced/expressed on the local scene, with many rants (mostly via unhinged Facebook entries) evincing a shocking hysteria, flying off the radar of constructive criticism, and unilaterally rejecting the right to free speech. The crux of the problem, as I tend to view it, is very basic: the poetry scene has splintered into two factions and neither of them likes what the other writes. This in itself isn’t a bad thing as literary feuds help to make otherwise anonymous writers feel the self-important gusto that helps justify their endeavours (as evidenced by the creation of this very piece). The splintering seems to have occurred along the lines of ‘taste’ and ‘sensitivity.’ In other words, to boil this down to simple yet combative terms, it’s a war of the highly enlightened versus the lowly philistines. Or, to make it even more literary, one might consider Robert Lowell’s acceptance speech when he won the National Book Award for Life Studies and compared the two 3 The Confluence
major poetry factions of his day as being akin to the “cooked” and the “raw,” Lowell having taken these terms from the anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss. “The cooked, marvelously expert and remote,” Lowell said, “seems constructed as a sort of mechanical catnip mouse for graduate seminars” whereas the raw is “jerry-built and forensically deadly.” What Lowell was essentially saying was that he was abandoning the “gray flannel poetry” (as one critic termed it) of Robert Frost and the like and throwing his allegiance to the upstart confessional poets who were abandoning tradition in favour of taboo expressionist forms best described as personal, tortured, dysfunctional, and oh so compelling. In terms of the categorizations offered up by Lowell in that instance, I don’t see this war as being all that different. The highly enlightened, or the “cooked” faction, the ones espousing the ideals of taste and decorum, and the ones that, to my mind, do most of the whining, though not necessarily all of the instigating, find the lowlies, or the “raw,” to be a pack of callous hyenas running rampant over the feminist, post-colonial, ecological ideologies that all poetry is apparently supposed to assimilate and reflect in a rather stringent and unyielding manner. Now I have no problem with poetry readings that espouse such views in an attempt to de-marginalize everyone and everything, right down to the poor oppressed pine tree by the river, but I too will always throw my allegiance towards the raw, as they’re much more spontaneous, disparate, and tend to do their readings at places that serve steak and beer. But the cooked faction seems to be always in the throes of stomachcramped, constipated disapproval when a raw poetry event like, say,
Post North transpires, to the point that the readings, content (right down to the poster art, you better believe it!), and general freewheeling atmosphere are vehemently criticized as lacking a sense of propriety and humility and of being so devoid of politically correct leanings that anyone who makes it through one of these readings without being in some way accosted, traumatized, or demoralized was already likely void of conscience and morality in the first place. Who knew poets could be so sensitive and hyperbolic?
Street Spirits Theatre Company The Award-winning Street Spirits Theatre Company is performing an original play about philosophy, love and muscle cars in May. Drawing from their experience in activist theatre, the company, headed by Andrew Burton, is showing off another facet of their talents with The Philosopher’s Stone. Street Spirits Theatre Company Presents: The Philosopher’s Stone May 19th-20th 2012 Artspace, 1685 3rd Avenue 7:30 pm
Admission by donation.
I hope you all enjoy obscure in-jokes lol.
Horoscopes
Fun & Games
Aries: Today is not your day. You seem to have been bitten by the uncaring apathy, be careful not to infect others with your venom. The 6th is looking even worse, avoid wererabbits at all cost.
Cancer: You have an itch that you just can’t shake. Stick with the color blue today, simply because pink is too expensive. Be sure to research all possible outcomes and avoid public toilets.
Taurus: The stars are aligned for enlightenment. However, this may have a cost of being probed by others. You also may be abducted by aliens. Avoid nightly walks and don’t look into the lights.
Leo: Today you feel like you can take on the world, however, by this evening you may find yourself wishing for some courage. Now’s your time to insult someone in the guise of a joke. Someone special in your life will be making an appearance later today.
Gemini: Of all the days to be your own worst enemy, today is even worse, as today you will meet your Virgo: It would appear that you doppelganger. You may find your have a guardian angel looking other half much more than you canConfluence over your shoulder. Today you will CNC handle, and could be stuck with them successfully side-step catastrophe at for an extended period of time. every turn you take. However, do not
Sudoku 9x9 - Puzzle 1 of 5 - Very Hard
Sudoku 7
9 2
1
2 6
8
9
4
6
1
9 3
5
3
4
3
4
2
2
6 5 3
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8 6
www.sudoku-puzzles.net
be prideful today; otherwise you may bring all your friends down with you. Libra: Weigh your options before you jump into a business venture or a relationship today. Unlike most days, the choice you make today will have a strong effect on your long-term goals. Also, do not forget your sense of justice. Scorpio: Stinging wit is your ally today; take care not to pinch too hard though. Find time to use passiveaggressive tactics to avoid your duties. You may come across an old enemy today, while you may want to aim for the ankle, don’t. They may become a powerful ally in the future. Remember to indulge in your wit. Sagittarius: Jupiter has spoken, today will bring adventure! Take aim and fire your best shot, but be careful not to take an arrow to the knee. Try not to force the camel through a needle eye. Capricorn: Remember that all good things come to those who wait. You may be tenth in line, but keep your torso above water and don’t be stubborn. Tonight enjoy good company and pan-pipes. Aquarius: Today you feel washed up. Don’t panic, remember, all you require is a towel and a pint and you will feel right as rain. Fear death by water. Pisces: If you hold stock shares in an Innsomouth company, today would be the day to sell as the market will crash like waves. It also may be a good idea to sell any golden idols you may have lying around the house.
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APRIL IN PRINCE GEORGE
With Cinema CNC Cinema CNC
All screenings in CNC room 1-306 Passes $18, availiable at Books & Co. & the CNC Bookstore Single Tickets $8; $7 for students, seniors & the unemployed
April 7: 7+ 9:30
CARNAGE
Director: Roman Polanski
Cast: Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, John C. Reilly, Christoph Waltz
80 mins
France/Germany/Poland/ Spain
Adapted by Roman Polanski from Yasmina Reza’s 2009 Tony-winning play God of Carnage, and featuring a top-notch cast of Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, John C. Reilly, and Christoph Waltz, this is a captivating and explosively comic study in the tension between civilized surface and savage instinct. Set in contemporary Brooklyn, Carnage centres on two couples who meet to discuss a playground fight between two of their children. Harried corporate lawyer Alan (Waltz) and his put-upon wife Nancy (Winslet), a successful-flying broker, visit the apartment of Michael (Reilly), an amiable wholesaler, and Penelope (Foster), a self-consciously liberal writer, to discuss, logically and amiably, how to deal with the boys. However, as the evening wears on, the parents become increasingly childish and combative; words become weapons, prejudices rise to the surface and the meeting soon collapses into a storm of anger, recriminations, drunkenness and violence. Unfolding in real time, Polanski nimbly keeps the action flowing with an active camera that avoids the feeling of a play captured on film. Instead, its single-set confinement (the story essentially takes place over 80 minutes in one location) recalls Polanski's similarly claustrophobic studies of urban alienation and psychic disintegration in Repulsion, Rosemary's Baby and The Tenant. It is also a master class in acting, and it’s a pure pleasure to watch the thespian one-upmanship as each character strives to dominate a deteriorating scenario. Carnage is ultimately a dark comedy about losing one’s manners. Alternately uproarious and devastating, it convincingly lays bare the darker tendencies of human nature.
April 14: 7+ 9:30
A SEPARATION
Cast: Peyman Moaadi, Leila Hatami, Sareh Bayat
123 mins.
Iran
Director: Asghar Farhadi Persian with English subtitles
Transcending cultural and religious barriers to present a fascinating portrait of contemporary Iran, A Separation is Asghar Farhadi’s Divorce, Persian Style. Screening at the 2011 Toronto International Film Festival the film has already received accolades from critics and audiences around the globe , leading to its selection as Iran's Best Foreign Language Film entry for the Academy Awards, which it subsequently won. Nader (Peyman Moaadi) and Simin (Leila Hatami) are well-behaved middle-class Iranian citizens. They fight quietly, hold decent jobs and prefer to resolve their domestic differences in court. But they only comfort themselves with such courtesy because they might be a little too civilized to let their real feelings show. After Nader refuses to emigrate from Iran (a move that would provide a brighter future for their offspring), Simin files for divorce. Retreating to her mother’s house, Nader hires Razieh (Sareh Bayat), a deeply religious and secretly pregnant young woman, to look after his father, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease. As Razieh’s “condition” starts getting in the way of her job, Nader allows the worst aspects of his repressed nature to emerge - resulting in Razieh’s uncivilized termination and even more courtroom headaches. As Nader’s entire family is drawn into an unprecedented feud, Farhadi continues his devilishly clever turning of narrative tables, selectively revealing new details and forcing the viewer to continually reassess each character. With extraordinary performances by an outstanding cast, A Separation delivers Farhadi’s best work to date; a maze of narrative intrigue and complex emotion in which everyone is both innocent and guilty, depending on where you stand.
April 21: 7+ 9:30
PINA
with: Dancers of the Tanztheater Wuppertal, Pina Bausch
Director: Wim Wenders Documentary 103 mins Germany/France
Pina, the breathtaking new film from cinematic master Wim Wenders, came very close to not being made at all. Shortly before shooting was scheduled to begin in 2009, the film's subject, choreographer and artistic genius Pina Bausch, died suddenly - just days after being diagnosed with cancer. Director Wim Wenders (The Buena Vista Social Club, Wings of Desire), a virtuoso in his own way and one of Germany’s most illustrious postwar filmmakers, almost abandoned the project, but when Bausch’s superb dance troupe decided to continue on, so did he – the result of which is this visually stunning and magnificent tribute to a talented artist. Bausch’s absence is felt throughout, but the film is in no way a traditional documentary. The troupe’s trademark dances and Bausch’s amazing choreography become the heart and soul of this beautifully imagined homage to one of the world’s great artists. With amazing skill and technique, Wenders opens up each dance, employing the streets and parks of Wuppertal — where Bausch’s company, Tanztheater Wuppertal, is based — as exciting backdrops to some of her best-known productions. Her version of Stravinsky’s "The Rite of Spring" is justly famous; dancers leave traces of their movements in earth. Equally fine is “Café Mueller,” where, in a dreamlike trance, dancers move with eyes closed to Purcell-scored music. For the equally imaginative “Vollmond,” set designer Peter Pabst provided an onstage waterfall through which the performers dance. “Kontakthof ” allows Wenders his own directorial moment: he shoots this piece in three versions, each time using dancers of a different age. The sheer joy, abandon and physicality of Bausch’s choreography are on full display here, and Wenders has done a masterful job capturing the essence of her work. Pina is a revelation – a haunting elegy that is entrancing and truly inspiring.
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ALL SCREENINGS IN ROOM 1-306 AT THE COLLEGE OF NEW CALEDONIA
Election Results Garett Svensen, Production Editor
The results are in for the CNCSU Executive Committee election. The new Executive Committee starting in April is as follows:
Aboriginal Students’ Representative: Burton Alexis Chairperson: Leila Abubakar College Relations Coordinator: Patricia Obasi External Coordinator: Jasmine Bhatti Internal Coordinator: Brandon Williams Treasurer: Alex Mackey Woman Students’ Representative: Charmaine Junio
Special thanks to the Electoral Committee Members: Robert Chavarie-Executive Director Ben Stepski -Student Volunteer Poll Clerk Teleah Old-SU Assistant Hamsah Hussain-Women Students’ Representative
Upcoming Events
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Mic
Arts & Entertainment say, “Dorinda, you are beautiful.”
Clay Nixon Contributor When I say that Mic Travers looked like a god, I don’t mean he had snakey white hair with a matching beard and sat in throne looking thunderous. He was built more like one of those ancient gods they taught us about in school, though those gods were forever changing into swans or bulls to make love to mortal women and Mic would never have to change a thing. As a mortal woman myself, I can testify to that.
From then on, Mic studied the ways of blowing things up and apart or imploding them outside-in. He was the only one I knew that picked up a book, though he only read if it had anything to do with the chemistry or rigging of explosive devices. And here I go making a liar out of myself. Mic also liked to read these books called the Darwin
You only had to eyeball Mic working at his dad’s farm, shirt off, tan and glistening in the sun to understand the situation fully. His biceps would tense and the muscles ripple across his shoulders as he’d shift a sack of feed. His hair hung to his shoulders which looked perfectly natural on him. He had the flat, rippley stomach they show in men’s magazines and if his jeans rode down just a little, you saw those sexy lines that run inside a man’s hips when he’s cut like that. There’s probably a name for lines like that but I never knew it.
Awards about the stupid ways people found to die. He’d read some of them to me and I’d just laugh at the sheer ignorance of some folks but I always had the feeling that Mic admired them. As if tying a hundred helium balloons to a lawn chair might be worth the falling to death bit. Or that welding a rocket to the top of your car and riding into the side of a mountain wasn’t such a bad way to go. Mic could be a little strange like that some times. Kind of wistful.
It was at his dad’s farm that Mic learned his true calling if you want to put it like that. There was this stump that was as stubborn as a piece of dead wood could be, having reached its roots deep into the soil like a fist that did not want to release its grasp. Mic and his dad had to dynamite it out of there and watching the sand spatter as the stump jumped into the air and thudded down to ground again was about as beautiful a thing as Mic had ever seen. So he said. He never used that word when he talked about me. Not ever did he 7 The Confluence
“I always had the feeling that Mic admired them.”
It got that people knew if they had a stump or a shed or a barn they wanted gone in the worst way, the could call upon Mic’s dad to arrange a detonation though everyone understood it was really Mic that did the work. And Mic would call upon me because if there was anything that worked him up into a lather, it was a good explosion. While he was laying the charges and checking the wires, -- if it was that kind of involved job -- he’d be all analytical and thoughtful. Controlled and contained. But after the blast, he’d grab me and hustle me to the nearest private place and it would be, “Oh Dorinda, I need you so bad, I need
you now.” The bigger the explosion the more urgent he’d needed my company. He’d grab my wrist just before setting off an explosion as if he was worried I’d be more than two steps away and he’d have to search before beginning the panting and the urging. I began to wonder if it was me he wanted or if he’d have been into Jillie, the nasty ole grocery clerk, if she was the only thing standing nearby. Still, I have to confess, even to this day, loud noises make me about as horny as can be. Apparently, there are a lot of experiments that go into becoming a great exploder. Mic would get an old refrigerator and rig it up so as to only blow off the door. A controlled blast. Then, he’d have the whole thing burst apart so thoroughly you couldn’t pick up a piece bigger than your fist. He repeated the process with all kinds of outdated appliances and building materials, concrete and such. One fine summer day, Mic brought me to this stand of trees. He had me wait outside the circle of aspen because, he said, he couldn’t be entirely sure of the shrapnel. Then he took off all his clothes. So there he was standing naked except for a pair of safety goggles and I was wondering if this was something that would get him into the Darwin Award book. He hit the charge and in the tree tops a ring of shaving cans started to explode one by one. There was Mic, laughing himself silly, spinning around as blobs of white shaving cream fell through the air like foamy snowflakes. I shucked off my clothes as fast as I could and threw myself at him. He went to catch me but he was as slippery as a greased eel and I slid
from his arms and ended up sitting on the ground. He tried to grab my arms to help me up but each time I just slid from his grasp. Mic was pretty much helpless, giggling like a schoolgirl, so in the end, I was the one who had to figure how to make it all work out. I sat myself in the elbow of a tree and put my legs around him. I brushed away shaving cream blobs from his face and threw off the safety goggles. He was still laughing but this time it was with the sheer joy of life. He tipped back his head in the light. The sun loved that man. Not long after, I had the pregnancy scare, which wasn’t surprising, Mic and I not always being the most careful about protection. But it got me to thinking about my future with a man who hadn’t once said he actually loved me. When I told Mic I was moving away to take up being a dental hygienist at the college, that I had to make something of myself, he did not say, “Dorinda, please stay. I need you.” He just stared down with his hair shielding his face, and then he gave a curt little nod and walked away.
“The doors fell off one at a time like the car was undressing itself in a hurry.” I cried the whole time I was packing to leave and for the first three weeks of college. I think everyone believed I came from some weird red-eyed kind of family. After that, I started catching on to school work. No one would have disputed that I was the best flosser in the entire class. I vowed to do without any man. Like a Mother Theresa of dental hygiene, I would go where the need was greater and lend my aide, maybe to one of those tropical countries or Britain. But then I met This issue brought to you by self-indulgence.
David. David chased down my every opinion on things and put his mind to memorizing every inch of my body. It felt like being loved right down to my guts. It was a wondrous feeling. I had never even known lovemaking had a slow speed. Sometimes though, it just felt like there should be bit more of a noise. Then one night, a textbook got pushed off the side table and hit the floor with a most terrifically loud bang. I pounced right on David, demanding and hungry. He was a fast learner and after that every so often a heavy textbook would hit the floor accidental on purpose. David was a grateful man during the stormy nights when the thunder crashed across the sky and the lightening cracked though I never told him who he should really be thanking. When David asked me to marry him, I never hesitated. Our parents pitched in enough money for us to have a proper church wedding. After the ceremony, when Dave and I were outside with everyone bestwishing us, the weirdest thing started happening to Dave’s little green Honda. The bumpers disengaged and flew off the front and back. The doors fell off one at a time like the car was undressing itself in a hurry. Then the whole Honda blew up into a big conflagration with flames and screeching metal.
one who knew what was happening. I looked around and saw Mic off a ways to my left. He had on a honestto-goodness shirt and tie. He raised one hand to wave goodbye to me and started to walk away. And that’s how I came to know that he had really cared about me after all. I had been loved by a god. I just had the biggest smile on my face as I watched the bonfire that had been David’s car.
And The Winner Is. . .
Garett Svensen, Production Editor The third annual John Harris Fiction awards and reading was held Friday, March 30th at CNC. Reading at the event were, A.Warren Johnson, Ryan White, AJ Kenway, Danell Clay, Kirsten Gjerde, Derek Benningfield with special guests Paul Strickland and G.P. Lainsbury. G.P. Lainsbury won the first prize of $1000. Runner up A. Warren Johnson received a portrait featured in The Confluence. The companion poetry awards, The Barry McKinnon Chapbook awards are on April 13th at 7:30pm in CNC room 1-306.
I guess I was about the only
The Confluence 8
Matt Partyka Contributor on the edge of a continent
I stared into the void of the dark sea it showed cold horror and told me: real men and anarchists don’t look at explosions you are mad to laugh at despair the abyss reflects nothing but ripples and blurs the emptiness which is all of your wealth and all of your youth look forward to the frozen pacific deltas afraid to overflow with the tarred sand of black gold rivers remember the heated springs at the mythical headwaters and how you grew out of their youthful abundance get the oil out of the rivers there is no future to change; there is no one left to forget imagine that the heart is darker than it wants 9 The Confluence
:
get the hell away from my oil
70,000km
Enbridge ATM
Of pipe-clogging Poetry
The Separation of North and State
Between the Corner of Victoria and Porter
Eastern Thanksgiving
Ryan White Contributor
Ryan White Contributor
Ryan White Contributor
The dancing crimson harlots frantically escape their encampment as the temple ruptures and the dam breaks
200 CC’s of liquid eternal Just put that old damned dog down tell the kids he moved to a farm up state
German engineered joints are tested as the mass falls like a star through the atmosphere against mahogany pillars incapable of detaining this monsters from the cosmos
the incoherent vessel takes its maiden voyage into uncharted waters before landing, being burnt to ash and dismembered bone screaming regrets under blood moons for a community that never gave two fucks about the structure to begin with It increases morale Academia becomes nothing more than a joke Stumbled through by men in prairie ponchos redefining the genre, let the tumbleweed role the genre becomes the joke as the critics cannot withstand the criticism by the self-righteous as a sermon of co-dependency and dogmas If you’re here to receive a gentle ass pat and congratulations, there’s a guy for that sort of thing on Victoria Street Drop my name and maybe he will Give you the hypocrite discount
Replace their old with your new provide the illusion for the demand Youth itself is a fallacy he had a moustache at 13 To many expect to swim the fountain when they really want to drown She tried to light herself on fire outside the Mr. G Bone conquers most matter before it confronts the concrete, then the splinters sparkling under florescent sunlight say, hey – look at me – I’m dead Don’t worry about it, we all break down to loose soil and cold ash in the scrapyard
The scene was set with all the bells, whistles, and plagiarisms of good Housekeeping magazines Amidst the Alpha-Females howl, our disillusioned Mary, leaving carmine tears upon the land, is tracked into the ring The Forshaws The Foremans The Mitchells and the Surgenors all watch in wonder as the Thrilla in Manilla is re-enacted upon the concrete canvas under the moon-light halogens
Did I ever tell you about the human condition? Beer room philosophy lessons from people I wouldn’t trust with a nerf ball, let alone an ideology Ideologies have always been the phallic impression of the mind If you think yours is great just wait until I stick mine down your throat Liberals, big head Conservatives, small head Anarchists, no head And the Moustache Enthusiasts, The Bob Ross, The ism’s, oooh, the ism’s Chewed up and spit out with two legs and an ego to believe
Right Star Lager Crack open a great cold one The Confluence 10
CNC FITNESS 2012 Remember to return your weight room pass and receive your $10 deposit back With your current CNC student or employee ID: Free access to the squash court It’s a great way to work up a sweat and leave your stressors behind, and we’ll help you find some competition on the court. Free access to the bouldering wall Take a half hour out of your day and focus on hanging out with rocks. They don’t require conversation — just focus, strength and some agility. It’s a great way to forget about everything outside that room. Free access to the weight room Use the free weights, weight machines, treadmills, step machine, bikes, and more. Free access to the gym Shoot hoops. Organize a volleyball, badminton or soccer game. Play some 3-on-3 hockey. Come and book a time with Jana Room 1-508 (by the gym) 250-561-5803 petersj8@cnc.bc.ca For more info cnc.bc.ca/exploring/services/recreation.htm