Volume 29 Issue 12

an alternative voice since 1984

an SBI publication 0 3 2 7 2 0 1 2

vol. 29 issue 12 Drinking is the new black.

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Drunken Q’s and A’s

Advice!

Hangover

Edition Living on the Straightedge

Buffalo brewS A look at Buffalo’s finest home beers

h 27, 2012 rc a M e in z Maga Generation

FEATURED

CONTENTS 05 | Editor’s Letter

An editor’s letter about editor’s letters. Super cool!

07 | Agenda

The Hunger Games and Restaurant Week.

| Hit or Bullshit

Rush Limbaugh sucks and Stephen Hawking acts.

08 | Are We There Yet?

Alex Smith rides out the Republican primary.

10 | Breweries a la Buffalo

Catie Prendergast reports on Buffalo’s local breweries.

12 | Just Our Luck

Photos of Buffalo’s St. Patrick’s Day parade.

10

15 | Staycation Chronicles

Claire Brown’s quick and cheap Spring Break.

16 | How To Survive the Zombie Apocalypse …and Being Straightedge in College Carlton Brock is not a druggie...or a zombie.

17 | Drunken Q’s and A’s

Written by the inebriated staff.

18 | Adivice! Hangover Edition See above.

19 | Limericks

Limericks from the staff (written while sober).

20 | Clocks of Catharsis

Sections of a short story by Tyler Gagliardi.

22 | Green Beer and Shamrocks

An interview with a sneaky little Irishman.

23 | Parting Shots

12

17

Raïssa Huntley is disgusted with toenails and Erin Willis says “Shhhhhhhh!”

Cover photo by Benny Higo.

Generation Magazine is owned by Sub-Board I, Inc., the student service corporation at the State University of New York at Buffalo. The Sub-Board I, Inc. Board of Directors grants editorial autonomy to the editorial board of Generation. Sub-Board I, Inc. (the publisher) provides funding through mandatory student activity fees and is in no way responsible for the editorial content, editorial structure or editorial policy of the magazine.

Editorial and business offices for Generation are located in Suite 315 in the Student Union on North Campus. The telephone numbers are (716) 645-6131 or (716) 645-2674 (FAX). Address mail c/o Room 315 Student Union University at Buffalo, Amherst, NY 14260.

Submissions to Generation Magazine should be e-mailed to ubgeneration@gmail.com by 1p.m. Tuesday, a week before each issue’s publication. This publication and its contents are the property of the students of the State University of New York at Buffalo 2011 by Generation Magazine, all rights reserved. The first 10 copies of Generation Magazine are free. Each additional copy must be approved by the editor in chief. Requests for reprints should be directed to the editor in chief. Generation Magazine neither endorses nor takes responsibility for any claims made by our advertisers. Press run 5,000.

EDITOR’S LETTER first editor’s letter, in which I pounced on Jennifer Pollard and some random commentator on The Spectrum’s website, caused a mini-stir (as far as my subjective gauge can tell). I felt proud and emboldened. Big man on campus.

I obtained my job as Editor in Chief after years of writing such articles and I wasn’t going to stop now. I could only move forward.

N

o one wants to hear me or any other editor whine about writing opinion pieces. It’s my job. I was hired to write these letters. As Editor in Chief, I am obligated to write an 800 to 1000-word essay for each issue about anything I see fit.

Over the past year, my editor’s letters have touched on topics ranging from bullying to libertarian philosophy to the nature of writing itself. I’m ultimately proud of what I have written. These articles are not easy to write, and being the neurotic that I am, I often feel that my next editor’s letter is going to land me, for whatever unforeseen reason, in scolding-hot water (it hasn’t happened yet, but who knows). Yet I’m going to whine about these letters anyway.

Especially now, with the conspicuously-gorgeous weather and summer just a stone’s throw away, writing these letters has become a chore rather than a privilege. I remember back in August I wanted to hit the ground running, fullspeed. I wanted to create a tsunami of intellectual rigor and debate. I was going to tackle every goddamn issue I felt were relevant to the UB community, and yes, it would cause quite a stir! My

Oh what a tangled web we weave. As I trudged on through the fall and the following spring, I became more and more skeptical of what my letters – and indeed the other pages of Generation – truly accomplish. Now, I understand we’re probably accomplishing more than I give credit (again, neurotic). And I also understand we are a small student magazine. We’re not Time or The New Yorker. We’re made by the students for the students. It’s unlikely that anything we write will have a profound effect beyond the campus. That’s not to say that what we (and other college publications) do are meaningless. We’ve covered issues we felt were important to UB and our jobs require us to act as if we are the said professional magazines.

Otherwise, what’s the point?

eneration Magazine Staff

Every time I sit down to write these letters, I ask myself, “What can I do to this topic that no one else has done? What can I do to make it interesting?” And the problem I often encounter is that, well, what is there to say about bullying or war (last issue’s letter) or the like that no one else has said? What would make this interesting? It’s my job, of course, to sort these questions out but ten months of this pseudo-Socratic method and I’m starting to trip. Not in writing, but in motivation. I’m having a literary inter-textual existential crisis, and man, I just turned 22!

Alas, the nature of the commentator.

We write and write and write. If we’re good, we write some pretty smart, enlightened, and even profound things.

Wit and humor helps, too. But – and there is a but – it comes with a theoretical price. We express opinions no one really asks for and do so, no matter how embedded or erudite we are, as an outsider. My outside status as an editor and writer is slowly but noticeably getting on my nerves. It’s my job, and I will do it. But really, with pens like these, who needs enemies?

Sincerely,

Still, I don’t want to fall into the pitfalls of self-importance or, worst yet, vapidity. I’m reminded of the passage in The Great Gatsby in which Nick Carraway claims quite sullenly that he wrote “very solemn and obvious editorials” in college. If I were to choose one of those two characteristics that I’ve been guilty of, “very solemn” is the most tempting.

The fact that I ended my editor’s letter on bullying, for example, with, “Rest in Peace. To Jeremy and to the others,” is a shining indicator. The sentiment was sweet but it seems like I appointed myself an anointer of the oppressed without even knowing it. By trying to knit a commentary on bullying, I’m afraid I came across as sentimental, if even a little pretentious. It wasn’t a bad letter by any means but, then again, who exactly are “the others” and who am I to use such a term?

Editor in Chief Josh Newman Managing Editor Ally Balcerzak Creative Director Bonnie Wan Copy Editor Erin Willis Associate Editors Claire Brown Raïssa Huntley Catherine Prendergast Photo Editor Benny Higo Circulation Director Rashid Dakhil-Rivera Contributing Staff Tyler Gagliardi Alex Smith Business Manager Brian Kalish Asst. Creative Director Lin Hiu Cho Ad Manager Jeremy Wolocki

Josh Newman.

Submit your letters and articles at ubgeneration. com, or e-mail us at ubgeneration@gmail.com.

Photos Credits and Coutesy of: Page 5 - photos by Benny Higo; Page 7 - (The Hunger Games) thehungergames.co.uk, (Restaurant Week) sxc. hu, (Sabres) fans.sabres.nhl.com by Bill Wippert via Getty Images, (Clutter IV) http://www.facebook.com/groups/ clutter/ by Frank Napolski, (The Cults) cultscultscults.com; Page 8 & 9 - wikipedia.org, Page 11 - Photos by Benny Higo; Page 12 - photos by Benny Higo; Page 14 - Photo by Bonnie Wan; Page 15 - cheeseburgertrees.wordpress. com; Page 18 - Photo by Benny Higo; Page 20 - mutheringheights.com; Page 22 - Photo by Benny Higo; Page 23 photos by Benny Higo. All photos and graphics credits goes to respective photographers and designers.

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AGENDA MOVIE | THE HUNGER GAMES | MARCH 23

Don’t act like you’ve never read the books/written the fanfiction/pre-ordered your tickets 74 days ahead of time, because we know you love The Hunger Games as much as we do. The movie based on the first book in the trilogy opened on the 23rd, but we recommend as many viewings as possible.

s EVENT | RESTAURANT WEEK | MARCH 26 - APRIL 1

It’s that time again! Local restaurants are offering special meals for $20.12. You can enjoy fine dining at places such as E.B. Green’s, the Buffalo Chophouse, or Salvatore’s on a student budget. If you don’t have any formalwear, enjoy eating a lot of food at more casual restaurants, who offer three course meals at the Restaurant Week price. Be sure to try out local fare at The Blue Monk, Seabar, or Merge. YUM!

s SPORTS | SABRES FINAL REGULAR SEASON HOME GAME | APRIL 3RD 7:30PM

Cheer on the hometown team in their final regular season home game on April 3rd at the First Niagara Center. The guys take on the Toronto Maple Leafs as they try to make it to the playoffs. As any true Sabres fan will tell you, there is nothing more exciting than a Toronto game so be sure to tune in.

or

140+ hit Advertisers

Deserting Rush Limbaugh

Kony 2012 BS Stephen Hawking on The Big Bang

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EVENT | CLUTTER IV | 515 MAIN STREET | APRIL 15 11AM - 7PM

Buffalo’s Bi-Monthly Curated Indie Market catering to collectors, crafters, wearable and visual artists and everyone in between. Over 30 vendors present!

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MUSIC | THE CULTS AT MOHAWK PLACE | APRIL 23

The indie-pop sensation from Manhattan is coming to Buffalo on April 23rd. Tickets start at $17 at Mohawk Place. ubgeneration.com

There’s a saying on the internet that we like to live by: “Don’t feed the trolls.” It basically means that you shouldn’t pay attention if someone is so clearly asking for attention. Rush Limbaugh is one of the original trolls, so original he’s been trolling the radio airwaves for decades. His job is simple: go on the air, say some ridiculous and disproportionately insulting stuff about liberal politics/women/gays/anyone who is not white, and get PAID. But ever since he called Georgetown Law student Sandra Fluke a “slut” and a “prostitute” on his show, Limbaugh the Troll has been losing advertisers by the dozens. Don’t feed the trolls, but if they’re on the radio, feel free to defund them.

For a few days in mid-March, everyone’s Twitter, Facebook feed, and Tumblr was blowing up with links to Invisible Children’s half-hour video on Joseph Kony, a Ugandan warlord. The purpose of the video was…..we don’t know? Ostensibly, to raise awareness among American youth about Kony’s existence and crimes, but it wasn’t long until this social media campaign began to garner criticism for things like trying to make money off of the video, not proposing any concrete approach to the video’s subject, and just generally being a waste of time, since countless news networks had been reporting on Kony for years, and no one seemed to care. Youtube’s great and all, but KONY 2012 fell short of its (somewhat ambiguous) purpose. ` The ultimate nerd comedy is getting a visit from one of the best-known scientists of our time: Stephen Hawking. As Sheldon’s idol, Hawking will be making an appearance on the April 5th episode. It is only fitting that Hawking appears in the comedy that revolves around four geeks in San Francisco with a hot blonde neighbor. The show’s jokes are often about scientific equations, star treck, and other “geek things,” setting it apart from the other comedies often filling prime-time slots. Here’s to you Stephen Hawking: may the force be with you!

Theory hit

Puerto Rico BS Speaking English

Once again Rick Santorum is preaching nonsense; but at least this time it doesn’t involve women’s rights. In a recent interview, Santorum said Puerto Rico would need to adopt English as it’s primary language in order to become a state.

Nowhere in the Constitution does it say that the primary language of the U.S. is English. It also does not list speaking English as a requirement for statehood. Puerto Rican culture is based in its Spanish roots, which is what makes it a top tourist destination. If English were to officially become the island’s primary language, some of that culture would be lost. Most Puerto Ricans speak some English as it is, no need to ruin a good thing Santorum. agenda//hit+bs | 7

A

Are We

THERE

YET?

by Alex Smith

8 | interview

t this time four years ago, John McCain had all but locked up the Republican nomination after a strong showing on Super Tuesday. While Barack and Hillary continued their bitter dogfight for the Democratic nomination, McCain was able to focus on the general election, build up his war chest, and enjoy the fruits of his labor.

This time around, the Republicans won’t be so lucky. Even after winning a couple contests on Super Tuesday, former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney remains as vulnerable as ever, as the Republican Party has yet to be convinced of his ability to defeat Obama in the general election (still!). According to current projections, Romney would need to win at least seventy percent of the remaining delegates to clinch the nomination, something that would be seemingly impossible with Santorum constantly nipping at his heels like a vicious undersized Chihuahua. While this close race should be seen as a positive for both the media and the political attention span of the country, it actually seems to be having the opposite effect. While I myself am a huge supporter of politics, I find my interest slipping away, as I simply can’t stand to listen to bunch of old white men babble on about taxes and birth control for much longer. It seemed so much different in 2008, when Barack and Hillary electrified the country, as they fought to become the first African-American/ Women president of the United States.

I felt empowered to get out there and voice my political opinion, register to vote, and watch all the debates on television. Now, it just seems like the status quo; boring; uninspiring; flat. In a country that would rather watch a sixth season of the Jersey Shore, the state of the current Republican primaries is just not going to exhilarate the voters of this nation anytime soon. Yet with that being said, I’d now like to offer some advice to

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each of the candidates, in hopes that they will somehow get to read this article and spice up their campaigns a little bit. Because if not, it’s sure as hell going to be a long five months.

Despite having the lead throughout most of the nomination process, I don’t ever recall Romney loosening up and truly acting like a human on the campaign trail. At times I feel like he just needs to sit back and take a breather, crack a cold beer, and have someone tell him not to button every single button on his shirt for once. In fact that last suggestion could be the key to him winning the nomination if you ask me.

If Romney wants to wrap this thing up, he doesn’t need more money or television – he just needs more sex appeal.

When I was home over break, one of my friends saw him on TV and remarked how hot he was for an old man. Well there you go Romney: a twenty-one year old female has the hots for you.

Use that to your advantage. Work to get that female vote and the nomination will be yours. Not that it wouldn’t be that hard, as his opponents can be compared to a plastic blow-up doll, a life size tator tot, and Father Time.

After doing a little research on Santorum in hopes of being able to find his potential keys to victory, I actually discovered that he’s an avid Pittsburgh Penguins fan. Therefore, I refuse to provide any advice to this man, as doing so would be a disgrace to the Buffalo Sabres and their chase for a playoff spot. And for all of you people out there thinking of voting for Santorum, just think… a vote for Santorum means a vote for Sidney Crosby, and in fact a vote for Canada itself. So please reconsider your vote, not just because of his crazy views on birth control, but because of the sporting teams he cheers for (if you were born and raised in Buf-

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falo that should mean more to you than anything else).

Now for poor old Newt Gingrich, the current bronze medal favorite in this Republican nomination process, and the one who everyone ignores. Ever since Santorum stole the tea party spotlight, Gingrich has been virtually non-existent, only celebrating when he won a pity vote in his home state of Georgia this past week. Although he is a rather intelligent guy, all I can think of when I watch Gingrich is how great he would be dressed up as a clown in the circus. So maybe that would be my suggestion to him on the campaign trail, join a rodeo clown group. There you can attract fans of all ages, while still appealing to your Southern roots.

Who knows? He might even meet his fourth wife there, too.

The fourth member of the nomination crew, Ron Paul, seems always be giving off that crazy uncle vibe, which is unfortunate considering his relatively interesting stance on many of the issues.

Yet if Paul wants to continue his race for the nomination and pull of the upset, he’s going to need to make a strong case to the people of California. One of his talking points is revolved around how the states should have most of

the power; therefore the War on Drugs isn’t exactly an issue for the Feds to be handling. If Paul were actually able to appeal directly to the many marijuana users of the state of California, I think he would have a legitimate shot to pull over something big. That being said, I would never expect a Republican, not even one as crazy as Paul, to come out in support of a drug’s legalization, but one can only imagine, right?

All jokes and opinions aside, I truly believe that Romney will be the next Republican nominee, but I don’t expect that to be decided anytime soon. Most likely we’ll have to wait until the National Convention begins in Tampa, and by then Obama will already have raised millions of dollars for the general election, making him almost a shoo in for the presidency though 2016. I know that’s a pretty bold statement, but at least it will give people something to talk about in politics for the next five months. So buckle up folks, because it’s going to be long and relatively uninteresting ride, with a group of elementary school kids constantly screaming in your ears, “Are We There Yet?”

interview | 9

o l a f f u B a l a s e Breweri st

derga

by Catherine Pren

photos by Benny

Higo

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ed with,” Tim lv vo in be to n fu ly al re is “This business run into in this industry u yo ho w le op pe he “T . says ople you will ever meet. pe st ce ni e th of e m so st are ju

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hose who are not straightedge, exceptionally religious, or highly allergic, most likely drink alcoholic beverages. The majority of those people enjoy beer, and a very, very small percentage of those beer drinkers actually make beer themselves. These people, the brewmasters and beer crafters, are involved in a business that is creative, collaborative, and beneficial to local communities. Let me warn you, reading this article may inspire you to buy a home brewing kit.

Maybe it will even make you think about brewing as a profession. At the very least, this article will encourage you to go to the supermarket and pick up a local brand instead of the usual Budweiser or (ew) Keystone. If you start craving a finely brewed beer, that’s fine, go for it, but please read responsibly.

Beer is in my genes, as my mother so eloquently put it. My late grandfather worked in a beer distributing company here in Buffalo. (He also just drank a lot of beer, but that’s irrelevant.) This family connection as well as my own fondness for different kinds of beer opened up my interest and curiosity in local breweries. While Buffalo is home to a number of brewpubs and breweries (Buffalo Brewpub, Jovi’s Brewery & Restaurant, Ellicottville Brewing Co., and more) I spoke to two in particular to get the inside look at the beer industry.

Phil Internicola is the Brewmaster at the Pearl Street Grill & Brewery (PSGB). PSGB was originally partnered with Wynkoop Brewing Company of Denver, but Wynkoop lacked faith in the Buffalo market. Three years later, they were bought out, and PSGB flourished with the help of local investors and successful management. It is the oldest and most successful brewpub in this city. I will diverge to tell you that I went here for my 21st birthday and I ordered the Trainwreck German Amber – it was delicious.

10 | cover story

”

Flying Bison is a brewery that was established in 1995, but due to the tragic death of one of the founders, it did not officially open until May of 2000.

Tim Herzog, the owner of Flying Bison, originally planned on the company being a brewpub (a brewpub, like Pearl Street, is a pub or restaurant that brews and sells beer on the premises, whereas a brewery makes and bottles beer to be sold elsewhere.) A brewpub requires extensive hours – keeping the bar open late while waking up early to start the brewing process. Needless to say, Flying Bison found success as a brewery, the first standalone brewery to operate in the city proper since the late Iroquois Brewing Co. As a rookie in the actual beer crafting process, I asked Phil to tell me how exactly beer is made.

“The craft brewing process is fairly straightforward; malted barley and other traditional malted cereal grains are cracked in a mill, then steeped in hot water to form a coarse porridge,” Phil explained.

“No corn, rice, preservatives, or any chemicals are used to make what is an all-natural beverage. The heat and moisture activate naturally occurring enzymes that convert starches and complex sugars into simple sugars that will be digestible to yeast. The resulting sugar-saturated liquid is then collected and boiled for at least an hour.

During the boil, hops are added for bittering, flavor, and aroma. After the boil, the hot liquid is passed through a heat exchanger to cool it to room temperature, and transferred into a waiting fermentation vessel. There, yeast is added and the yeast consume the sugars and give off alcohol and CO2. The fermenters are temperature controlled and, when tests indicate enough sugar has been consumed, the temperature is reduced to just above freezing to stop the fermentation process.

The beer is then allowed to stand for a few weeks at low temperature, which causes the yeast to settle out. The beer is then filtered to remove any remaining yeast, carbonated, and made ready to

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“

Brewing is a very creative and collaborative ind

significant roadblocks to achieving the same kind of brewery-centered community pride and cohesion today. Still, it’s a great feeling to see out of town visitors’ faces light up when they take a sip of a great beer made right here in Buffalo.”

serve.” As you can probably now assume, making beer involves both original thinking (what grains you will use, what hops you will add, how much of each, etc) and precision (temperature must be controlled and changed in various steps.) Phil sums it up: “What I like most about brewing is the opportunity to be both creative and a technician at the same time - craft brewing is a combination of art and science.”

Both Phil at Pearl Street and Tim at Flying Bison became professionals only after brewing beer at home. “I had started home brewing beer and I had become a manic home brewer, and it was just a very slippery slope - the more I brewed the more I liked it,” Tim said. Tim had received a home brewing kit as a gag gift for his birthday one year, and eventually his wife suggested that her present be used for some income. The rest is history. Phil had a passion for finely crafted beers and learned how to make them for himself. He realized that he could turn his skill and love for brewing into a career.

Breweries in relation to Buffalo specifically are a critical component of the city. Until prohibition, brewing was one of Buffalo’s top resources.

Several breweries made it past Prohibition, but the industry suffered. Today, Buffalo is welcoming breweries once again. As Phil says, “In the old days, breweries were a source of community pride and cohesion – people who worked at the brewery lived nearby, and every corner had a pub that was associated with the local brewery. Unfortunately, liquor control laws, zoning codes, employeremployee relations, and insurance concerns pose

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While the recession hit breweries hard (what companies were not affected by the recession?), the market in recent years has really opened up.

“Business will always have its week-to-week and seasonal ups and downs, but the trend at PSGB has been at or near double-digit growth since I joined the company,” says Phil. “People tend to seek out less costly forms of entertainment during hard times, and craft beer is one of the best entertainment values available – you can savor a couple of extraordinarily good brews at relatively modest cost.” As Tim points out, “Think back a couple years, the selection of beer at Wegmans was whatever was inside the cooler – that’s all there was. Now, Wegmans has loaded their coolers with craft beer and they have developed isles and sections, of west coast beers, New York state beers, etc. – the beer section has become so big that they needed to start breaking it up.

That’s a major thing.”

Buffalo breweries today may not be able to harness the same sense of community that they used to, but the industry is definitely bringing people together, both beer drinkers and beer makers, and contributing to Buffalo’s overall culture and fiscal expansion.

Brewers absolutely love what they do, and Tim sums it up perfectly: “The thing I like most about it is all of it. If the floor needs to be swept, I am glad to sweep the floor, if I have to load malt into the mill, I’m your guy… I like working in the brewery, I like being around it, I like the ingredients, I like the people who come here and visit us. The only thing I don’t like is regulatory paperwork, but no one in their right mind likes that.” (Amen.) Brewers are dedicated about not only turning their passion into a career but having their career contribute to the city’s success.

Brewing is a very creative and collaborative industry. Brewmasters are always intrigued to know about how other people are crafting their beer, such as what ingredients they have

ustry...it’s a brotherhood.

”

used and what process they took. Beer makers are the opposite of competitive – they all work to help each other and offer constructive opinions because they are all committed to the success of the business – it’s a brotherhood, as Tim says. Simultaneously, brewmasters and brewing companies benefit from helping each other so they are never hesitant to learn new aspects of the craft. It’s all about innovation and expansion.

“This business is really fun to be involved with,” Tim says. “The people who you run into in this industry are just some of the nicest people you will ever meet. It never ceases to amaze me when I go to a brewers conference or a brewer from another brewery walks in the door and everyone immediately starts talking about what they do and how they do it. You can’t say the same thing for people in other industries! It’s always been very opening, very welcoming, and that’s what a lot of people like about it.”

In terms of Buffalo’s future, breweries and brewpubs should be, and hopefully will be, even more successful. Cities across the United States have taken chances opening local breweries, some prosperous, some not, and ideally Buffalo will open more as well. The city could definitely use more.

Be sure to try local Buffalo beers, if you haven’t already. Flying Bison has three that are available all year round: the Aviator Red (malty flavored with a medium body and a spicy hop signature to balance), the Rusty Chain (a Vienna style amber beer; soft nutty, malt flavor with a hint of caramel) and the Buffalo Lager (a light bodied golden beer – very balanced flavor with a soft, clean finish). Pearl Street offers the Lake Effect Pale Ale, the Lighthouse Premium Blond, the Saber’s Edge Double IPA, the Street Brawler Stout, the Trainwreck German Amber (my favorite, as stated earlier), the Wild Ox Wheat, St. Pearlie Girl’s Persuasions, and Horace’s Private Stock. I plan on trying all of these, if not for the witty names alone.

So what is a brewmaster’s favorite beer?

The answer is unanimous: “the beer that is in my hand at that moment.” “After all,” Phil says, “variety is the spice of life!”

cover story | 11

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features | 13

Staycation Chronicles

by Claire Brown

I

’ll be the first to admit it: I am not a wealthy woman. I work two jobs, I’ve got thousands of dollars of student debt, I live in a small, shitty apartment, and my biggest purchase every month, aside from rent, is groceries. I coupon! I cut corners! I clean my kitchen every Saturday! Life in the fast lane! I am not living it! When I was younger, I thought being an adult involved wearing fancy, professional clothing, carrying a briefcase, and finally knowing everything there was to know about everything. Now, I realize that adulthood mostly consists of standing in long lines, filling out interminable paperwork, laundry, and pretending that you know everything there is to know about everything.

Sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like to have four country houses and a live-in staff and a private jet available to whisk me off to any number of tropical islands (that I would own, obviously). And usually, I start having fantasies like this right around school breaks. The idea of a picture-perfect Spring Break is familiar to a lot of college students; a certain number of specific images spring to mind when you hear those two words. For some, it’s Cancun and bikinis and beach parties that are so long and loud that you forget who you were before they started.

For others, it’s all about travel: the mountains, the desert, the lake, different countries, different climates, and a different city every night. Sadly, none of my spring breaks have ever been like that, and they certainly won’t be like that for a very long time, unless some obscure relative dies and leaves me a mountain of cash (c’mon, great aunt Adeline! You’re like 300 years old!).

14 | features

On the other hand, part of me doesn’t really want the fantasies of Spring Break that are perpetuated through US pop culture. Let’s face it: I sunburn easily, I’m not much of a drinker, and the idea of traveling for more than a few hours at a time makes me feel like punching someone who may or may not deserve it. I mean, when I get right down to it, I’m actually kind of boring. And when you couple that with being poor as shit, my spring break was shaping up to be one for the books. The really old, boring books that everyone hates reading.

spent about $25.

When a real vacation is just not in the cards, sometimes you have to improvise your very own “staycation.” A staycation can only be what you make of it, and in my case, I decided to stop being an adult for one week, and go back to being a kid, with everything that entails. And I found that when you can drive, stay up as late as you want, and eat whatever you want without your parents nagging you, a staycation is probably one of the best things ever.

I stayed up til 4am with my best friend, gossiping (okay, talking smack), drinking margaritas and eating the homemade cupcakes that we made together on a whim.

For example: a new 7-11 just opened around the corner from my house. A 24-hour 7-11. That meant Slurpees at 3 o’clock in the morning and Sour Patch Kids for breakfast.

I showed up at Amy’s Place at 7am, just so I could order their $2 breakfast specials, with endless coffee refills.

I just found about a bargain movie theatre in Williamsville: I spent an entire day there, watched three movies, bought far too much popcorn, and only

I stayed in on St. Patrick’s Day, away from the hordes of green-clad drunkies, had a Harry Potter movie marathon, and laughed at all the drunk and hungover voicemails I got the next morning.

I put some air into my bicycle tires and went for hour-long bike rides around my neighborhood. I took my dog to Delaware Park, and spent an afternoon there, just me and her, and a good book.

In between those things, yeah, I graded papers, and read long, boring articles, and nearly pulled my hair out in frustration during syllabus-writing. But it wasn’t all bad. In fact, if I wanted to be optimistic, I could say that my spring break vacation was a fairly enjoyable “staycation.” It’s not often that we get a significant block of time reserved for relaxation, and without too much responsibility. Adults just don’t get downtime –vacations are for the rich, or for children (and consequently, for very rich children).

We all have jobs and schoolwork and obligations, and of course you can’t escape those things entirely (what’s up, seminar paper, presentation, and 22 ungraded essays?!), but you can at least take everything at your own pace, if only for a week.

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by Carlton Brock

How To Survive the Zombie Apocalypse …and Being Straightedge

in College

by Carlton Brock

“So why aren’t you drinking?” It’s a sentence I hear at almost every party I’ve been to since I graduated high school. Of course, it’s more an observation than a question. I could say “I drove” or “I’m good” or my personal favorite “because I want to be alert when the zombies come to eat us.”

The truth is, I’m Straightedge. I don’t drink, smoke, do drugs, or take part in promiscuous sex outside of committed relationships. Which means I nine times out of ten I won’t go to a party unless I really know who’ll be there or I have nothing to do whatsoever. It’s not because I’m antisocial. It’s because of that “2:30 feeling.” Not the kind in the Five Hour Energy commercial but the “2:30 feeling” when you are the only sober person at 2:30 in the morning and people are either throwing up or looking for rides home. Now this may seem like a direct contradiction to the typical college life style but it’s really not. I still study until my eyes are ready to fall out, I still go to concerts, and I still am part of too many activities to count while still hoping to sleep. I just don’t drink. Sometimes it feels like I am the one percent.

Around Halloween 2010 I happened to be at a party where I encountered a guy wearing face paint, who offered me a drink. After politely turning it down, my new “friend” refused to drink it himself – instead he poured it out on the floor and stormed off. To this day I have no idea what he was trying to accomplish with that drink but I’ll assume that when I saw him later in the evening (this time completely sloshed) he wasn’t rubbing my arm to say congratulations.

There are two distinct rules that I adhere to about following my lifestyle and surviving in college. First, never go into a situation you aren’t comfortable with.

This is key for all my friends who drink, smoke and enjoy other “extracurricular activities” too. It’s a simple enough rule to life, because if you aren’t comfortable you’re not having fun. I’ve seen a few ugly situations occur when people do stuff just because they wanted to fit in and ended up paying for it later.

The second rule works both ways: don’t be a judge. Don’t judge me for my choices, and I won’t judge you. I’m lucky enough to have a group of friends who range from occasional to religious drinkers, a few regular smokers and everything in between. We may not agree on values, but we do agree not to judge. As long as what they’re doing doesn’t harm me, I don’t care whatsoever.

And I do the same for them. To keep the alienation effect down I do other things with friends, like movies, bowling, Lasertron, or eating junk food (my one true vice).All in all, being Straightedge to me is just part of life. Don’t be a jerk and you’ll be fine. Being Straightedge means that I don’t just miss out on hangovers and blackouts. Studies show students who are infrequent or nondrinkers have higher GPA’s, less strain on relationships and less stress due to wasted time. And above all else being alert in practically any situation really helps being ready for those pesky zombies.

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features | 15

n e k n u r D

s ’ A d n a s ’ Q

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, we at Generation decided to answer hard-hitting political, artistic, and existential questions...while drunk. This is not a joke; we wrote the following while inebriated. The answers are not edited in any way.

by the Editors

ut o b a o d e w ld u o h s What ? n a t is n a h g f A d n a n Ira m ou knowou I’ on’t y ion is that? D st e are ou u q fa o d is? And why th t u o WWhat kain b a e te ri y opinin astatew to w arnyway? M nort really in n o rs e p k n htnow. e from a dru asking advic especilaly rig r e tt a m ’t sn licye doe sickminded of foriegn po are a Siriusly r, u o y s e y , u ere: that yo is this right h u o I’m thinking y r fo r e My olny answ o to obed. indivividual. e I want to g n lo a e m e v a le WWJD. Now

What is the meaning of life?

This question is difficult to not make a corny answer but honestly life is for gods sake what you fuckng make of it I mean in my opinin you should live life being happy, being motivated, doing everything youbcan to do hwat you want to do, what life means means different things for different people and I think that’s the key to this question there is no One meaning of life that pertains to everyone the meaning of life changes with EACh person and that is why there is no one answer the ultimate meaning is one thing for someone, something else for someone else, so there are multimillions of answers because each person has a different purpose in this world! Life for me in the end is being happy. Maybe thr mesning of lifr changes not only with person but with the moments so right now, MY meaning of life is eating cause im hungry. My meaning of life is eating cookies. And maybe drinking more beer. If it’s meant to be.

16 | features

What’s the worst m ovie you’ve ever seen?

Okay, so I tell y’all so mething right poff th e bat: I’m a lightweight when it df comes to drinking. Us ually one beer will put me to slepp an d/or cause undcontro llable giggling/ super inappropriate qu rstion-asking. And sin ce it’s spring break, I decided to tre at myself and have TW O mike’s hards.

I figure, what the hell?

I’vebeen dionng so m uc h work this week, I deservce a dr ink or two (or, accord ning to my body’s endocrine sysrem, m aybe like seven). So ye sh. Woarst movie Iv’e ever seen.

Uh…(I’m so hunfgry right now. I want to m aker popcorn!)

I;’m gonna hafta say Sulmber Party Massaa cr e 2. As is uausually the case wi th sequals, the first on e awwas soo much better. This on e takers place atlike a beach house (except nobody in th e movie evre is at thre beach? thbey are all just like, talking ab oiuut how mnuch th ey want to go to the beach? Like, “oh tiff fanie, why can’t we go the beach?”

“I do not know, Alexis! ” mosts of the dialog is like that.) And SPIOler ALERT! The kil er is like this guy wiht a guitaer that is also a knife? And he is not real, just lke, pa rt of someone’s dream?I dunno, reaa kly not that great of a m ovie, even thiough I’d LOVE to ha ve my own guitar-kni fe.

I just went and made ppopcorn. It’s so GOOD , and its so loud in my earsa when I ch ew it!

NEXT DAY: Oh, wow.

Um. This degenerate

d so quickly.

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What is the role of literature in society?

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If you ask most peop le, the only time liter ature should be a part when Hollywood is de of society is stroying another book for a movie. Oh wait, haven’t read half the most people books turned movies to know they’re ruined sure that aside from . I’m pretty Harry Potter (which is a good series) and Tw was terrible literature ilig ht (which to begin with) most of the other book movies been read by a majorit ha ven’t y of society. In reality, literature is extremely in society because it important shows what a society values, disputes, and given era. It’s sad to th enjoys in a ink that 200 years fro m now when English told to read a novel fro students are m the 21st century, it is going to be so they how sex crazed and fad can see obsessed we supposed ly were. I suggest all majors, actually, anyo English ne with a basic sense of grammar, write a no it published so we ca vel and get n (hopefully) make su re future generations never read the

features | 17

Hangover Edition by the Editors

What’s another hangover cure?

- 2 100mg Motrin - 1 32oz Gatorade - 3 hours of sleep

Last night was rough, eh?

What do you suggest when trying to get over a mean hangover?

Don’t think too hard about Iran and/or Afghanistan for a solid sixteen hours. Rinse.

Lather. Repeat.

I saw The Hangover last night.

It was hilarious! I had so much fun and I can’t even remember all of it! That movie made me feel like I was the coolest person in the world! Watching it made me feel like everything I said was interesting. Well, it’s the next morning and I feel AWFUL! I really regret watching it even though I had so much fun. My friends are suggesting that the only way to cure my Hangover hangover is to watch The Hangover Part Two. Are they right?

18 | advice!

I’ve had a hangover for a week. What should I do?

Have you tried drinking more?

Sometimes when you’re a borderline alcoholic that can help. Otherwise, you may be allergic to alcohol. A hangover is supposed to last a few hours, maybe a day, MAYBE a day and a night, but a week?! No way.

You probably should not drink anymore. At all. Ever. The rest of us will just have to drink for you.

Sorry. (We’re not sorry.)

No. “The hair of the dog that bit you,” in this case, a stupid movie’s stupid sequel, will not be your stupid hangover cure.

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- Six or seven hours of free time

What supplies are needed for curing a hangover?

- A TV and DVD player, or your laptop - Pajamas (hell, I’d even go far as to suggest a Snuggie. Desperate times, friend.)

- One loaf of really, really good bread. Nothing you could buy at CVS. I’m talking about bakery bread - the kind you have to get from the “rustic, artisanal” section at Wegmans.

- One bag of candy. (Your choice, though I’d recommend chocolate above anything else.)

Limericks... by the Editors

I knew there was something I forgot, as you see, I just don’t drink a lot But you know, when I do I can’t stop at just two I forget, now what was this about?

- A GALLON of water. Buy it the night before.

There once was a girl who forgot

- Three or four “hangover movies.” These are not good movies, but they are bright, colorful, lighthearted, and quiet enough to lull you into a vegetative state. They can be rom-coms, Disney movies, anime, anything by Judd Apatow, just nothing with loud explosions or gore. Do you really want to see that diner hoagie again?

It put her in quite a tight spot She opened her Mac Had a small heart attack And typed ten pages, that’s a lot!

There once was a home makeshift bar On top of the porch-side fridge It had some bad rum And some good liquor But needs some more options.

There once was a girl from New York, Who called herself a vegan dork, She went to a farm, And oh – the alarm!

She started to crave some pork.

CLASSIFIED BLVD MUSIC LESSONS ALL INSTRUMENTS $16.00. 716-578-5320

PLAY N TRADE CASH 4 ALL GAMES & CONSOLES call 716-664-0779

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literature | 19

Clocks of Catharsis excerpt of a short story by Tyler Gagliardi

-Chapter 1-

Shimmering Glass

A

frozen full moon hung on the clear black sky, casting down rays of light between tree branches, creating patches of luminescence in the solemn dead night. A quiet road in Austin, Texas stretched through the outskirts of the city beginning to sleep. On the side of the road, the wreckage of an overturned midsize sedan lay helplessly. An array of shattered glass lay placidly shimmering on the road like crystals in the moonlight. In the cavity of the car was a young man, age 27, laying unconscious, his face covered in a glaze of blood and an allotment of flesh torn open above his left eye. As the moon looked down upon the scene with horror, a blanket of smoke could be seen for miles along the isolated stretch of asphalt. As the mourning branches of trees blew in the summer night, the sound of a low pitched growl could be heard miles away detached from the scene. The winding, reverberating sound could be heard more clearly as it echoed off of branches. The sound was coming closer and closer with every second marching on.

Suddenly, an object was seen in the distance of the accident scene, it was white and appeared to be moving at extreme speeds. It was obvious now what the object was; as it pulled up, the 1969 Mustang Boss 302 painted white with black accents came to a complete halt witnessing the terror of the wreckage. Engine idling at a minimal RPM, vehicle’s pristine door opened. A perfectly polished black leather Mexican cowboy boot with Virgin Mary stitching on the sides stomped on the road. The figure connected to the boots was a middle aged black man, looking handsome and intimidating at once.

He wore a black suit dressed to kill with an expressionless face and a pair of expensive black Oakley sunglasses. He quickly ran over to the car wreckage and ripped open the car door with impressive strength. As the lifeless body laid there in the car, the man in the suit reached for the seatbelt to unhook, but 20 | literature

it wouldn’t. As he tugged it came apparent that it was jammed. With inhuman strength he tore the seatbelt in half and freed the young man from the entanglement of frayed seatbelt remains. With a great heave he lifted the lifeless lump of flesh and bones and carried it to his car trunk where he deposited the colorless body. As he got back into his muscle car, he started it and revved the engine. In the distance the sound of emergency medical vehicles and law enforcements could be heard roaring and moaning in the unsettled air molecules miles away. With a heavy foot, the car took off like thunder down the stretch of road. The moon still hanging in the sky on the same scene as the ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, white light encompassed the entire viewing plane. The sound of a low ambient hum could be heard everywhere, similar to the sound of breath expelling from the lungs. The light was becoming brighter and brighter and almost unbearable to witness.

A slit of light appeared through a horizontal strip of vision. A pair of eyes slowly opened unfocused on the surrounding objects in its perspective. Once opened it was a drab, poorly lit hospital room. The sound of heart monitors heard in the distance. The young man focused on an object directly in front of him at bedside; it was the black man from the crash.

“Who the fuck are you?” the young man said looking very confused. The black man standing in front of him stared empty eyed.

“The name’s Lex—Lex Ward,” he said, remaining calm. The young man quickly looked at his watch to check the time, and his watch was frozen on 3am exactly on the dot. Turning back to Lex he said: “My name is Keaton Thorne, why are you here anyways?” he said confused.

“Don’t you know?—I saved your life,” said Lex. “Saved my life?” Keaton asked, shocked.

“Yeah, you were strung out almost dead on the side of the road last night, or morning,” said Lex walking over to the window. “I’m surprised you are alive, you barely made it to the hospital. They said it was a miracle that you survived the crash.”

“How long have I been out?” Keaton said worried tensing up in the hospital bed.

“A few weeks,” Lex said.

“Damn,” Keaton said looking miserable and looking back at his broken watch. “Man, I gotta get this thing fixed, I can’t even tell the damn time!”

“I know a man in Los Angeles who can fix it, he’s the best around. Why don’t you come with me and have it fixed? I gotta be going now.”

“L.A. you say?—that’s, kinda… far,” Keaton replied unenthused.

“Man, you don’t have to pay for gas, just c’mon,” Lex replied in a coercive manner.

Keaton looking rather puzzled stopped for a second then smiled. He quickly got up on his feet and said: “Where are my clothes?—Let’s split!” An attractive young nurse came in and said:

he wore a suit coat jacket that was very broken in and a pack of cigarettes in his front pocket. His face very attractive, with a scruffy beard, very dark eyes, and perfectly slicked back hair with a matte finish. He was barely 27 years old but looked in his early 20’s. They both headed out of the room and checked out at the service desk. Upon leaving Keaton said: “Man, you would not believe the dream I had!—It was this huge void of white light and humming! It was really weird man…”

“Sounds like L.A. to me,” Lex replied. Keaton looked at him with a peculiar face but didn’t bother to ask any more questions to follow up on his response. As they were exiting the hospital Keaton pulled a cigarette out of his front pocket and searched for his Zippo lighter. The sound of heart monitors in the distance started to fade.

-Chapter 2-

Dead End

As

“Let’s roll!”

Lex and Keaton exited the hospital, the sun gleamed high in the sky. It was a hot one that day; the afternoon’s birth gave the earth a gift of scorching heat down upon them. As they made their way out of Seaton Northwest Hospital to go find their car Keaton asked:

“Why you headed to L.A. in the first place?”

With a cold calm tone, Lex replied:

“That’s where I’m from…”

Keaton got dressed in his clothes, which were similar to Lex’s but not as formal. Keaton wore black cowboy boots with slim fitting jeans and a western shirt. Over that

Making their way over to the car, Keaton taking a big puff of his freshly lit cigarette stopped for a moment as if in complete shock.

“I’m sorry but you just can’t leave right now,” in a rather calming way. Lex turned to her with his sunglasses still on, and suddenly she turned back to Keaton and said: “You can leave right away! Have a great day!” smiling and exiting the room. Lex turned back to Keaton and said: “You ready for this?” Keaton with a face of enchantment said:

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“No WAY!—this is your ride!?” Keaton said, heading over to examine it more closely. He inspected it thoroughly noticing each perfectly polished detail. The car looked as if it had never been driven and was stored in a garage inside a vacuum untouched by dust and other airborne molecules. Lex looking at Keaton with a small grin on his face watched as Keaton enviously examined the cars details.

“You ready to see this thing in action?” Lex said, hoping to stop Keaton before he created any blemishes on the pristine vehicle.

They both proceeded to get in the vehicle, Keaton being especially careful as he awkwardly closed the door behind him. They took off with alarming speed and torque, the g-force pulling Keaton back into his polished seat. They were headed down TX-1 Loop S toward Austin. Lex was passing cars with ease and they had the whole day ahead of them. As they made it onto the US-290 W, Keaton began to wonder why exactly Lex was doing this favor for him in the first place.

He began to get paranoid thoughts looking out the window at the Texas landscape. Keaton then thought that perhaps Lex was a murderer plotting to bury his body out in the desert. This all made sense to him now and he became even more uncomfortable when Lex began to look at him with a smile.

“Something wrong?” Lex said, with a smile on his face looking over at Keaton who was completely terrified but playing a poker face.

Keaton smiled, and tried to keep the poker face:

“No, everything is fine,” he said. Laughing hysterically, Lex looked over again at Keaton with his sunglasses coldly glaring at Keaton.

“I’m not going to kill you—ya know, we can’t be keeping secrets, that’s my policy here,” Lex said. Keaton, unable to move with complete fear tried to reach in his pocket to grab his stiletto switchblade. Lex, as if entering the very neurons of Keaton’s mind starred glacially at Keaton, whose palms were covered in a layer of salty sweat.

“Don’t even think about reaching for that blade son,” Lex said, with attitude. Keaton, with a great impulse, reached for the knife and tried to lunge in at Lex. At midway point Keaton’s hand froze and the blade slowly fell from his frozen hand. Lex, with lightubgeneration.com

ing speed, without taking his eye off the road grabbed the knife in mid air and put it in his coat pocket all before Keaton regained awareness. As they merged onto the I-10 W, time had seemed like it had barely moved, this also could have been due to the fact that they were traveling 180mph weaving through traffic effortlessly. As the evening came closer they stopped in El Paso to get some gas and some food. Keaton just couldn’t understand what was with Lex and why he was doing all this for him. Then it occurred to Keaton, what was he doing here? Who was he? These were all questions he just didn’t seem to know. He looked in his pocket at his wallet, but all of his identification and personal information was gone.

toward Flagstaff. They arrived at a decent motel where they crashed for the night. It was a hectic long day and Keaton was still shocked from all of the occurrences. The moon was still high in the sky gleaming on the western horizon. As they both drifted to sleep Keaton’s visual plane quickly switched

to pure whiteness again. The light grew brighter and brighter and he felt himself being lifted towards the light as it became more prominent. The humming was concocted with an inaudible language being transmitted into his mind. An aura of light emitted from above him.

When they were at the gas station some members of The Vagos Motorcycle Club of San Bernardino were glaring at them. As they headed back on the road toward Phoenix, Arizona, they had passed through New Mexico. The sun beat down on the dusty desert roads they traveled. The whole day seemed to roar by as if they were in light speed. Somehow, they managed to reach Phoenix, Arizona by 7:34pm which was only roughly 7 hours after their departure.

This was a rather incredible feat considering the fact that, driving the speed limit, the trip would have taken around 14 hours. Keaton turned on the radio and an advisory report came on saying: “I-10 W will be closed from Phoenix to San Bernardino due to road work” Keaton, with extreme anger and dissatisfaction shouted:

“What the FUCK, are we supposed to do now!?” Lex, remaining very calm said:

“Looks like we are gonna stay in Flagstaff tonight.” As the night crept in they headed for Flagstaff. Keaton was fast asleep in the car which was roaring down the I-17 N. Lex decided it was time to wake up Keaton from his slumber when he played After the Burial in the car stereo at max volume. After the Burial, is a crushingly heavy band that plays with 8-string guitars. The sound of the breakdown made Keaton instantly wake up.

Surprised at Lex’s music selection he said:

“You listen to this?—I’m surprised!” he said while smiling and joking. Lex looked over and said:

“What, can’t a brotha listen to some deathcore?” They both laughed and proceeded literature | 21

Green Beer and

It’s a little known fact that you can find Leprechauns in South Buffalo. If you know where to look, you can simply walk up to one in a bar and have a chat with it. In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, I ventured down to an Irish pub in the heart of South Buffalo to interview one. Interviewing Shamus O’Barley was by far the strangest interview I have ever done, and I’ve interviewed everyone from musicians to drag queens.

Shamrocks:

An Interview with

Leprechaun

Shamus ’Barley

by Ally Balcerzak photo by Benny Higo

Where can I find the pot of gold?

Lassy me pot o’ gold is my personal property If I tell ye where to find it you’ll bankrupt me.

Why are Leprechauns so short?

A Leprechaun’s height is nothin’ to mock The tale goes back to the beginnin’ of our stock.

How is your Lucky Charms cereal doing these days?

It isn’t worth much anymore Keeping it is now a chore.

Dentists claim it’s bad for kids So now the Lep-Stock is in the skids.

The very first Leprechauns came from the little people They acquired their magic while up in a steeple.

Lep-Stock?

Back in Ireland ye see Life revolves around the Lord Almighty.

Are ye dumb Lassy?

Stop bein sassy.

So up in the church While sitting on a perch, The little people were banished to listen And one Sunday morn they began to glisten.

Yes Lep-Stock It’s Leprechaun Stock.

Is it true that you recently had an affair with the Tooth Fairy?

If I did has me an affair Telling you wouldn’t be very fair.

Strange things started to happen Some houses they would flatten.

What happened tween Toothy and I Is only known by us and the sky.

They soon learned to control the magic So the accidents became less tragic.

Asking a personal question Is something that will send ye to detention.

They dubbed themselves Leprechauns And swore off pecans.

We only mate with our own kind Keeping the magic in a circular bind.

Is it true that gingers have no souls?

Where did you hear that?

I hope that you get fat!

That wasn’t much of a rhyme there. Why do you speak in rhymes anyway?

I don’t.

Yes you do. You’ve done it this whole time.

I have? You’re lying.

Gingers do have souls We just prefer to keep them in bowls.

No I’m not. But whatever. I’m not going to argue with a Leprechaun. Thanks for the interview.

Beer or Whiskey?

At least take a picture with me Otherwise no one will believe ye.

With whiskey I get frisky.

But beer Erases fear.

I cannot choose Which to lose.

22 | literature

Don’t deny me darlin Or this convo will cost ya a Farlin.

What’s a Farling?

Stop being annoying and snap the feckin’ picture! ubgeneration.com

Parting Shots Toenailed!

by Raïssa Huntley

Toenails. I hate them. They’re so gross.

Why do we still have them? Now that Spring is here, toenails have re-emerged into the public sphere. I see them poking out from people’s sandals, cracked and yellowed, speckled with white fungi, or lacquered red. I imagine a world without the atavistic toenail: a world where five smooth, round, nailess orbs finish off each foot.

Unlike the fingernail, the toenail has lost all appreciable value. We use our fingernails for many things: scratching, opening things, picking crud off of things, peeling things off of other things… But toenails are useless, on top of being gross. The only thing my toenails have ever done is scratch the legs of my sleeping partners (gross, so sorry about

that…).

As much as I’d like to avoid the following grotesquery, it’s worth noting that toenails are susceptible to some pretty disgusting diseases and conditions. Toenails can compound into overgrown masses of fungus and keratin that twist skyward like horns. Like toe-horns. They can become brittle and yellowed, chipping away to reveal sensitive tissue unprepared for the world. We’ve all seen what happens when someone drops something heavy on one of their nails and it issues forth a month-long saga of grossness wherein the damaged nail slowly turns black, shrivels, and eventually falls off leaving in its place a squishy, partially formed new nail. Enduring this process is only worth it for the favored

Let’s Go Talk During to the Movies!

Some human actions are just too appalling and unforgiveable to warrant pardon or defense: these are called pet peeves, and the tiniest thing can mean a long and abiding hatred of one person. For me, it’s talking during the movies. It’s just rude and tactless; it’s narcissistic and horrendous; it just sucks.

The movies aren’t cheap, okay? Showing up at a theater can be stressful on your bank account and, by extension, your dignity. Forking over precious, hardearned dollars for two hours of a celluloid-induced coma takes plenty of willpower. So forgive me for being pissed when some asshole can’t shut his trap while I watch Katniss Everdeen do her thing—don’t these people know that my time spent in the theater equals an hour and a half’s pay! Geesh!

There’s also the fact that the theater reminds people not to talk. They turn the lights down low, perfect for slipping into a wonderful state of viewing. They put respond to your favorite article at ubgeneration.com!

fingernail, because of its uses. But it gets much, much worse. Google image search the terms “Onychomycosis” and“Psoriatic toenail”. You will throw up instantly.

Toenails, when they are damaged or when debris becomes stuck underneath them, or sometimes when the ph of our skin is unbalanced, become gross little fungal havens. While I do not intend to offend the poor individuals who suffer these toenail ailments, I want to say that I am sorry for our species, that evolution has not yet rid us of our toenails. We’ve lost our tails, tiny foreheads and most of our body hair, so please tell me the toenail is next on the evolutionary chopping block.

by Erin Willis

the ad at the beginning of the film that asks them to silence cell phones and silence themselves. What more do these people need? Duct tape? Hermione’s stern gaze? Maybe the Elder Wand?

It boggles my mind that people would find the need to talk during the film at all. The movies are for watching, not for discussing. That much has always been clear. And didn’t they pay money anyway? Why would you pay money to talk throughout a film and ruin it for everyone else. Don’t the people they’re with want to tell them to shut up? Why is it absolutely necessary to discuss the major themes of Spielberg’s later films compared to his early ones?

I remember sitting through a film once where the woman behind me made a comment about everything that happened. “Oh my god, I have a shirt just like that at home! Isn’t that crazy?”

WHAT’S CRAZY IS THAT YOU WOULD TALK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

How do we keep these rowdy, unpleasant folks in check? I don’t know! I’ve tried the passive aggressive “turn around,” complete with a little glare to punctuate my point. I’ve tried the throat cough. I’ve tried the “shhhh.” I’ve even asked them to be quiet, in a low, quick whisper. Yet these people! GAH! They don’t stop.

They don’t ever stop!

The problem, too, is the anonymity of the crime. It’s dark and it’s annoying to look back when you’re trying with every grain of concentration to enjoy and follow the movie. They’re everywhere. You can’t see them, but you can hear them.

And you can’t hear the movie over the horrible commentary provided by the person two rows behind you.

Next time you’re at the movies, don’t talk.

And if you hear someone talking, unite as a theater against them. But don’t talk to each other, ‘cause you’re sure to piss someone off.

parting shots | 23