Main Street
Editor’s Note
Us
I’m really freakin’ pumped to be writing this right now. Just a year ago I was stepping into the uncharted territory of my first Main Street meeting and now here I am, EIC. It really is such a privilege and honor and I am grateful for everyone and everything that has gotten me to this position. I am both excited and optimistic about this experience and thrilled to be able to work with some of the most creative minds on this campus. Big thank you to my editors who have made the process of taking over the magazine seamless and to the writers that have time and time again delivered. And to the people that pick up this magazine, we wouldn’t be in this position without you all, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. If you want to chat mag, send me an email. Other than that, I hope you enjoy what we’ve created. Cheers. -Chad Ripley, Editor-in-Chief
Chad Ripley Editor-in-Chief Jamie Ammon Managing Editor Julia Scorese Content Editor Zach Lewis Content Editor Caleb Jagoda Content Editor Meaghan Scotti Contributing Writer Doug Rodoski ContributingWriter Delaney Ripley Contributing Writer Casey Farrell Contributing Writer Nikita Serdiuk Contributing Writer Sean Crimmins Contributing Writer Caroline Fitzgerald Contributing Writer Lucas Henry Contributing Writer
Find Us
Maxim Mayone Contributing Photographer Niko Kakouris Contributing Photographer Bailey Schott Contributing Artist Michael Fiacco Contributing Artist You can find us at MainStMag.com facebook.com/mainstreetmagazine MainStreetMagazine@gmail.com Instagram: @mainstreetmag
We’re back and with many new faces working behind the scenes making this happen! If you want to contribute, come to our weekly contributor meetings on Tuesday nights in MUB 132 at 7 P.M. If you have something you want to be heard, published or just want to come and have a conversation with us, come on by! We love new faces here at Main Street. We have one edition left this semester, so if you’re looking to get published, now is your opportunity! If you have any questions, shoot us an email. We look forward to hearing from you!
BIG thank you to everyone at UNH Printing Services for all of their help printing this, and every other issue of Main Street. We couldn’t have done it without them, and we have big hearts full of appreciation.
as always, withthe love, from main street with love from main street
Contents
features:
A Real Good Kid- pg. 8 Daily Affirmations- pg. 6 Rye on The Rocks- pg. 35 Not your Average Edible- pg. 28 News From Around Universe- pg. 24 The Long and Winding Road- pg. 32
photography:
Life on The Road- pg. 18 UNH Club Volleyball- pg. 30
drawing spreads: find your beach- pg. 12
reviews:
music- pg. 4 A Conversation with Daylo- pg. 5
arts, opinion and culture:
Homecoming- pg. 22 The Beat Never Drops- pg. 15 What the Feminist- pg. 16 FIFA Rage- pg. 20 Poetry- pg. 14 Bachelor- pg. 21
Illustrations by Michael Fiacco
big thank you to bailey schott for delivering on yet another dope cover!
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Early Spring 2019
How I Got Over
reviews
Main Street
Caleb Jagoda | Content Editor “How I Got Over” is a musically lush, yet emotionally-draining experience; the ninth studio album by the Philadelphia hip-hop band The Roots provides a strikingly-melodic jazz backdrop that bobs its head just above the water, threatening to be drowned by the withdrawn and disillusioned collective mood of the band’s core. While this album is nearing its tenth anniversary in June and is nowhere near new, it’s message of rebellion and fighting against the dying light rings deafeningly true in our current age of political unrest and stunted social growth via technology-overload. Black Thought, The Roots’ main rapper and technical extraordinaire, along with the rest of the rotating cast of musicians, evoke hope in the heart of hopelessness. Throughout the 14-track album, the band members seem to be staring an implacable, overwhelming apathy and depression straight in the eyes while refusing to blink. While there is a constant admittance of pain, whether it’s resulting from their past wrongdoings, an unrelenting cold-heartedness carried by many or the current state of the world as a whole, they refuse to give in to this pain’s endless tyranny. At its nucleus, “How I Got Over” is about never giving up spiritually, physically or emotionally, despite the cyclical negativity and seemingly unforgiving nature of the world surrounding us.
On the three-song stretch “Radio Daze,” “Now or Never” and “How I Got Over,” the Roots drive a spike through the heart of their message and offer the three strongest songs on the album. While “Radio Daze” finds Dice Raw, P.O.R.N. and Black Thought addressing their general despondency and struggles in exceedingly-philosophical fashion (“Love is a lotto, I know I know you know what I know / Hope is so hollow, that’s why winos follow the bottle” as P.O.R.N. says on the song’s second verse) “Now or Never” finds The Roots choosing to take a stand against these very injustices, despite how debilitating they seem to become. And just as the Roots choose to stand tall against the wind of their demons, the album’s title track “How I Got Over” acts as its thesis, anchoring to an underlying hope in humanity despite the persistent feelings of being alone in a freezing-cold world. Despite all of the suffering, all of the oppression and all of the pain, The Roots keep faith in the world by relying on those closest to them and the empathy we can all choose to exhibit as humans. “How I Got Over” examines how well we can traverse the incessant pain of the universe, and how it becomes that much easier when we realize that we aren’t all alone, but actually far from it.
don’t smile at me
jamie ammon | managing editor you can call her creepy. i call her clever. billie eilish is barely 17, but her first ep “dont smile at me” has four songs that are gold and one that’s platinum. for those of you playing along at home, that’s *five out of nine songs on her first album* that are riaa-certified. that’s absurd. and in case you want to feel more insignificant, this ep was produced when she was 15. delicate vocals. intricate harmonies. precise techno-instrumental backgrounds. eilish’s art is a balancing act; anyone else trying to walk that wire would fall off fast. she makes being cute-creepy into a science, but she is still absolutely magnetic in her attractiveness as an artist. she speaks
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the truth and changes minds. “if teardrops could be bottled / there’d be swimming pools filled by models / told a tight dress is what makes you a whore.” her debut single, “ocean eyes,” was originally written by her brother, finneas (i know, killer names in this family, right?) for himself and his band. he gave it to his sister and she made herself a legend overnight. sit silently in your room. turn the lights off and listen to her ep. she’ll crawl inside your veins and leave you feeling pleasantly haunted by the ghost of a beautiful girl.
Early Spring 2019
Main Street
a conversation with daylo Chad Ripley | Editor-in-Chief
What happens when you put together a fivesome of the “the camp-co guy,” a badass female lead vocalist, two UNH jazz band members and a groovy bass player? Daylo, the band that has got everyone talking on campus.
Nick’s taste in folk music doesn’t even come close to exemplifying his bass style. I haven’t seen anyone who “slaps da bass” harder since Paul Rudd in “I Love You, Man.” Not to mention the chemistry Chris and he appear to have, constantly going off each other’s groove.
The five members, Chris Salemme (percussion), Chase Retrosi (keys), Sophia Kurzius (lead vocals), Nick Paul (bass), and of course Willy Downing “the camp-co guy” (lead guitar), have taken the local music scene by storm. Selling out the Stone Church and filling venues throughout the area with their unique sound, a creative mix of indie psych/pop/rock, or as Chase and Sophia would describe it, “it’s fun music, it’s Daylo music.”
Willy’s ability to shred his six-string in such an intricate yet powerful way is something to witness. Moving up and down the neck, Willie is constantly giving the audience tasty licks, shedding his normal mellow temperament.
Although Sophia claims she doesn’t have much of a stage presence, her passion exudes through her vocal ability on stage and when the microphone is put away, it’s in her diligence in the way she speaks about her music and what has gotten her to this point. Chase’s ability to build you up one moment and then break it all down on the keys transforms this band’s sound. Not to mention the constant synth hits that put you in a psychedelic fit. Chris, the backbone of the band - well, he’s just a killer drummer - it appears effortless for him behind the kit, even as one of his pedals breaks mid-song.
Together, this one-of-a-kind crew comprises Daylo. The band’s playful yet dreary sound makes for catchy lyrics to sing along to and a lot of dancing. Even with no digital recordings of songs, Sophia is pretty apt to giving her microphone away to the people lining the front of the stage - letting them do the singing. “We just want to make music that makes you feel something.” They have an EP titled “In Dreams” that is set to be released by the end of March. Despite that, Chase and I both believe that Daylo’s music is something to be heard live, so definitely check them out next time they hit the Stone Church - but just be sure you get there early because chances are it’ll sell out again.
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Main Street
daily affirmations Caleb Jagoda | Content Editor
Loving yourself is a strange vehicle. It seems pretty weird to be able to think, “I love myself ” without either feeling oddly cocky or succumbing to the grips of self-deprecation. In this way, loving yourself is very much a seesaw: some days, it’s as if we are standing tall against the wind, a Gulliver among ant-people, a cyclops among action figures. On other days, we’re merely a straw wrapper to that powerful gust, just another ant within the colony, no more than a white colored pencil against printer paper. The constant ebb and flow within the waves of emotion, between crumbling confidence and brimming exuberance, can easily turn into a pulsing tidal wave that threatens an Atlantic asphyxiation. While both odd and difficult to balance, this delicate seesaw between loving yourself and belittling yourself is one that can be aided through one thing: affirmation. Affirmation and self-worth are two themes that are ever-present in the music of Detroit hip-hop artist Quelle Chris. On his album “Being You is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often,” he created an abstract finger painting of his constant battle between rising self-confidence and falling feelings of worthlessness. The album amplifies and transfigures these feelings into a hodge-podge of hilarious, vulnerable and very poignant conclusions on his own self-worth. The result is oddball art filled with extremely relatable feelings of doubting yourself one second, then loving yourself the very next. On the album’s first song (following the album’s intro),
“Buddies,” Quelle Chris’s first words were “I fuck with myself / I fucks with myself / Might bring myself some flowers, I’m in love with myself.” This ridiculous self-love continues when he later on states: “I might just, jump back and kiss myself / I might just, jump back and kiss myself.” While at first, this comes across as hilariously strange, the album soon reveals itself to be a roller coaster of mood swings that shift between supremely confident songs, such as “Buddies,” and glumly doubtful, such as the very next song, titled “Popeye.” On “Popeye,” Quelle Chris admitted to many self-destructive habits in cleverly cartoonish fashion when he raps, “I open up my eyes and spin in 3-6-0 degrees / And see ‘Spy vs. Spy’ within me, plottin’ how to end it / Popeye, kickin’ the can but never eats the spinach / It seems I never reach the goal but always meet the finish.” Here, he is accepting that he is the cause of his own problems; he has all the materials he needs to succeed, or as he puts it, he’s got Popeye’s can of spinach to eat whenever he wants to instantly balloon his muscles and vanquish his problems. Yet he consistently resorts to furthering his problems through self-sabotage, merely kicking the can and not eating the spinach. Through all of the self-loathing and self-loving, he never forgets to include heaping amounts of self-affirmation to remind the ever-changing personas he’s unleashed to keep their chin up, no matter what the current state of affairs may be. Another character who is constantly affirming both himself and his friends’ self-worth through thick and thin is Vince Vaughn’s character Trent in the 1996 film “Swingers.” While “Swingers” is now over 20 years old, its message and importance are as striking as ever. Although much of the movie is hilarious, and almost all of Vince Vaughn’s parts as Trent inevitably evoke laughter, what makes “Swingers” the vital comedy it’s become is Trent’s relentless optimism in the face of building depression and incessant wallowing stemming from his friend Mike, played by Jon Favreau. After moving to Los Angeles to chase his dreams of becoming a successful actor and comedian, Mike Peters finds himself in the midst of a six-month rout caused by a breakup with his girlfriend back home in New York. During these six months, Mike is as down and out as one can get. Whether it’s struggling to go a single day without talking about her, feeling intense amounts of self-pity or wondering how he’ll ever move on, Mike is borderline
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Main Street
pathetic as he faces a sort of existential crisis concerning his own value. Yet, through the darkest days in this looming cloud of self-hatred, Vince Vaughn’s Trent is there to drag Mike into the sun and return some inklings of the confidence that’s now become foreign to him. The movie begins with Trent asking Mike if he wants to go out and hit some parties. He immediately turns him down because of his desire to wallow alone. Trent senses this, and immediately decides a Las Vegas trip is in order to shake Mike out of his rut. Once they hit Vegas, things aren’t looking great; they have minimal cash to put on the line, their casino of choice (Caesar’s because everybody there will “probably fall all over themselves for a couple of high-class guys like you and me” is dead, seeing as it’s a Tuesday night and there are bigger and better Vegas casinos by 1996. And, they have no idea what they’re doing when it comes to gambling. But, Trent doesn’t let any of this get them down; he persistently tells Mike that he’s “money,” insists that there will be plenty of “beautiful babies” that “want to party,” and even gets a waitress’ attention to tell her this about Mike: “Excuse me darling, I want you to remember this face here. This is the guy behind the guy behind the guy.” And after she merely says, “Okay,” and quickly scurries off, Trent insists, “She smiled. Mike, I’m telling you, girls love that stuff.” Despite the multitude of quandaries that Mike seems to be facing, Trent insists on hyping him up, no matter the situation. Not only is Trent a very smooth operator and one of the most charming talkers to ever exist, he’s also a walking affirmation to Mike despite his sullen attitude. As he famously tells Mike, “Baby, you are so money, and you don’t even know it.” While Vince Vaughn presents an endless barrage of happy-go-lucky confidence boosters to get his friend Mike out of his slump, Quelle Chris seems to work on a more existential level – as he ponders the reason for his being and ends up simply being content that he’s able to do just that – be. In the closer of “Being You is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often,” “It’s Great to Be,” Quelle Chris exudes what feels like the culmination of his entire life’s rising-and-falling ego in a beautiful ode to living. Quelle comes to the simple, yet moving, conclusion that through all the highs and lows, it’s simply great to be. It’s great that his heart continued beating on “Popeye.” It’s great that he learned to love hate and learned to hate love, no matter how morbid this may sound, on “Learn to Love Hate.” And it’s great that he unconditionally loved himself on “Buddies.” At the end of the day, he’s happy that he’s been granted the simple privilege of existence, one that we as humans too often take for granted. As he puts it in such blunt and moving fashion, “Cuz being you is great to be / And loving you is great to be / And me and
you is great to be / It’s great to be.” Through all the hyperbole, all the humor and cynicism and sarcasm, Quelle Chris stripped everything down to the one simple statement that wraps up his wild ride of self-worth in four words: “It’s great to be.” On the surface, Quelle Chris and Vince Vaughn’s Trent seem like they would have very little in common. Quelle Chris is an underground rapper from Detroit who’s made a name for himself in creating concept-dense, thought-provoking abstract hip-hop that’s as far out there as it is intricate. Meanwhile, Trent is a fun-loving guy who loves many wildly exuberant things, including the swing revival of 1990s Los Angeles, 2 a.m. breakfast food after a long night out and “beautiful babies that love to party.” They seem to be worlds apart; two separate entities that would never be mentioned in the same sentence. Yet, what brings them together is their love of life. They both encapsulate what it means to have a burning passion for living each and every day to its fullest and embracing the ensuing emotions, whether they be positive or negative. Life is a beautifully ornate experience for each and every person – and one that comes with a never-ceasing carousel of shifting emotions, scenes and spaces to occupy – yet is an experience that can become overwhelming if you let it get the best of you. What Trent and Quelle Chris instilled in me is both a zest for every day of this fragile existence and the confidence to love myself despite the building shadow of apathy and despondency threatening to darken my light at every turn. After all, Trent didn’t shrivel up in self-despair following the ending scene of “Swingers” when he believes a girl that’s pointing and smiling at a baby was trying to flirt with him. Rather, he threw her “the great vibe, the funny vibe” and continued on his conversation with Mike. As Quelle Chris says to himself on “Daily Affirmations”: “You’re good enough / You’re smart enough / And God damn it, people like you / They like you, they really like you.”
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Early Spring 2019
Main Street
A Real good kid Meaghan Scotti | Contributing Writer
“He broke what conventions were expected of him as a heteronormative pop artist.” I was first introduced to Mike Posner when I was in middle school. I would whip out my iPod touch on the ride to school and throw on his hit song “Please Don’t Go” on repeat. He fell off my radar for quite a while, until 2016 when every pop radio station seemed to be playing “I Took a Pill in Ibiza.” The music was so stylistically different from what I remembered; I was shocked it was the same artist. Since then, I have followed his career and listened as his actual style as an artist has emerged and challenged the very pop music industry that his career stemmed from. It wasn’t just the music I was following, either. When I first saw him, he was a clean-cut guy reminiscent of early 2000s pop stars: blazers and sunglasses, a short and concise haircut. Nothing that strayed too far outside of the norm. The next time he caught my eye he had pulled off a complete 180. He had a shaved green head, black nail polish, fishnet tights and expensive jewelry. He totally broke what conventions were expected of him as a heteronormative pop artist. This was during a time when he formed a group called “Mansionz” with popular hip-hop artist Blackbear. Together, they released one album, whose album cover shows the two of them shirtless, Posner with neon green hair while Blackbear’s arms are draped around
him, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Posner is looking head-on at the camera, as if waiting for the questions this photo would garner.
is gearing up for a transcontinental walk. His plan is to start on the east coast in New Jersey, and end his walk on the west coast of California.
Throughout this brutally honest yet playful album, Posner openly questioned his belief in religion, his sexuality, his personal relationships, the integrity of his own character and all else around him. For the first time, we were seeing a very different, more vulnerable side of Posner that starkly contrasted his previous clean-cut pop artist image.
Posner has also reached out to his fan base to invite people to join him on his walk, under the condition that there will be no drug or alcohol consumption. Along the way, he says he will be updating the public so they can continuously follow his walk. Posner defended his decision--which surely has some scratching their heads and raising eyebrows--with a
Flashforward to January of 2019. Posner posted a video announcing he will be taking the next year to walk across the United States. When many would expect an artist who had just released an album to be gearing up for a tour, Posner once again proved that he is different from your average pop artist. Instead, he
“Posner openly questioned his belief in religion, his sexuality, his personal relationships, the integrity of his own character.”
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Early Spring 2019
Main Street
From the outside looking in, the drastic changes in Mike Posner’s music and look would reflect an artist who hasn’t found himself yet and seeks reinvention as a method of conforming with outside pressures. But in his own way, I think the changes he’s made reflect his confidence as an artist. He doesn’t sacrifice the authenticity of his craft for an older fanbase who might be alienated by his new look and sound; instead welcoming fans to accept him and join him on his journey, or return at a later time.
“In a world where distractions are at our fingertips, it’s a challenge to be completely cognizant of one thing for 40 minutes.” straightforward answer: he’s doing it because he wants to. With his walk ahead of him, Posner also released a video via Instagram, where he explained that his music is no longer going to be referring to women as ‘hoes,’ ‘bitches,’ ‘sluts’ or other derogatory terms. I found this especially interesting given his project “Mansionz” with rapper, Blackbear, who is no stranger to using words like these in his music. As an artist whose career ventured into the world of rap and R&B-genres whose common vernacular uses words like the ones Posner has sworn to stop using--in my mind he’s once again pioneering his own path through the music industry. In January 2019, Posner released one of his most unique projects yet: “A Real Good Kid.” The album starts with an intro track of him speaking, and asks listeners an unusual request: “Hello. You are about to listen to ‘A Real Good Kid.’ / The album is forty minutes long, and is meant to be listened to in one sitting... straight through. / It is meant to be listened
to without texting, without emailing, without outside distraction of any sort. / At this time if you are unable to devote forty minutes of undivided attention, I politely ask that you turn this off, and return at a later time.” I have to admit, as I was listening to him ask this of me, I was scrolling through Instagram, and hadn’t intended on sitting down and listening to his album start to finish. But at the same time, I was intrigued by his vision for a project to be consumed so differently from what we are used to and how we normally listen to music. In a world where distractions are at our fingertips, it’s definitely a challenge to be completely cognizant of one thing for a full 40 minutes. But upon listening, “A Real Good Kid” was filled with absolutely stunning songs that morph from one into the next. When given full attention, you can hear how the techno background overlays a strong acoustic and vocal base. The album is littered with influences of his past multi-genre endeavors. —9—
Early Spring 2019
Main Street
the glorious sound Chad Ripley | Editor-in-Chief “I think I’m at a place in life where, I think it’s more of my responsibility to stay passionate about what I love, and that’s making music.”- Jon Bellion in a Genius interview. That passion undoubtedly shines in Bellion’s tentrack album, “Glory Sound Prep,” that was released just a few months ago in November of 2018. Despite his growing fame and popularity, which is accredited to his platinum single “All Time Low” and previous record “The Human Condition” from 2016, Bellion has focused on producing the music that he loves, with the people he wants to create with. With features from New York’s finest Roc Marciano and the likes of RZA, Quincy Jones, Tuamie and familiar face Travis Mendes, Bellion has created an album that is hyper-focused on what he is striving to achieve with his music.
nothing has changed; Bellion is the same. He has once again created another album filled with a genius mix of all genres and incredible, heartfelt harmonies which help in his exploitation of the idea of fame and the issues that surround his growing popularity. The effortless combination of his hip-hop and R&B stylistic approach mixed with guitar licks, brass hits, string sections and pop-driven hooks give Bellion a unique, glorious sound. Just look at one of the albums singles, “Stupid Deep.” Bellion’s emotion shines through his vocals, which are backed with the mandolin, bass, piano, banjo and whatever else he decided to pull out of the closet that day.
“Bellion has focused on producing the music that he loves, with the people he wants to create with.” “Stupid Deep” features his sister, Christianne Jensen, who is just as musically inclined and talented as her younger brother, matching the song’s key with her vocals the second she walks into the recording studio. Also featured is a longtime collaborator and friend Travis Mendes, who worked on “Guillotine” from the 2016 project. The two add to the track’s feeling with their harmonies. Bellion has this power of striking emotion with his “Making of ” videos he posts on YouTube, and the “Making of Stupid Deep” brings you on the emotional roller coaster of the creation of this song, like when Bellion is brought to tears configuring the lyrics on a whiteboard in the studio.
Image Courtesy Leah Tribbett “Was never focused on gettin’ bigger, just gettin’ better / That’s why I keep gettin’ bigger after every record” He raps in the second verse of “Let’s Begin.” But
If you couldn’t see the sentiment then, you certainly can see it later in his frustration after leaving the studio before finishing his vocal parts. Or towards the final minutes of the video, when Bellion takes his beloved vulnerability to a new level. Getting so caught up in the moment, Bellion lets his emotions take over the recording as his voice begins to crack while he belts the lyrics of the outro, the tracks most susceptible part.
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It wasn’t Bellion’s greatest vocal performance by any stretch of the imagination, but it had to have been his most heartfelt and passionate - sending chills from the top of your head all the way down to your ten toes. If “Stupid Deep” isn’t heartfelt enough, then the album’s opening track, “Conversations with my Wife,” certainly fits that mold. Bellion begs the question of his wife, “Will you still love me when the phone turns off?” The social implications of his rising popularity don’t faze him, rather focusing him more on who and what has gotten him to this point. “Who the fuck cares about these plaques on my wall? / You’re still the only thing I’ve done right,” he sings before the chorus, begging for a deeper relationship outside of the virtual world. If you care to see the emotion behind this song, the acoustic version on YouTube exemplifies these feelings with the help of a melody from the piano and a single violin. The band breaks out in a quite improvisational last chorus, while Bellion snaps and dances, he lets the instruments do the talking. With a fist bump to end, Bellion’s live acoustic renditions illustrate the passion behind it all.
“Bellion’s live acoustic renditions illustrate the passion behind it all. ”
Image Courtesy Leah Tribbett
“Blu” will bring you to tears, if you’re anything like me. It was the song that first jumped out to me that Friday morning after the album release, and still to this day, I find myself searching for the words to describe the capricious feelings that come about while listening. The studio version undoubtedly embodies Bellion’s sound, but the acoustic version he posted on his YouTube channel again brings to the table something out of the ordinary; something that other artists can’t replicate. With Bellion behind the keys, he orchestrates the guitar melody with his powerful, soft vocals, as the saxophone player gives you a taste of what’s to come in the intro. Two minutes in, Bellion bellows “one... two... three... four” and begins to play the keys, as the guitarist switches to the grand piano the brass section unleashes an explosion of sound, cueing Bel-
lion back in with his shouting of “come on,” putting every ounce of effort to keep up with the arrangement to bring the song full circle. “Glory Sound Prep” has given me something that few other albums have. In a world that’s filled with endless amounts of virtual connections but that lacks face-to-face interaction and vulnerability, Bellion has embodied this lack of susceptibility with his acoustic renditions, “Making of ” series, and powerful, well thought-out lyrics. Giving me a sense of hope that in a world filled with this lack of vulnerability, artists with a platform the magnitude of Bellion can and will create music that not only embodies a listlessness with the virtual world but also provides listeners with the idea that fame and wealth doesn’t equate to success and happiness: doing what you love and who you chose to do it with does. Sorry, but this album is stupid good.
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illustrations by: Bailey Schott
Early Spring 2019 2019
Main Street
poetry: a selection Zach Lewis | Content Editor
I Have No Room For Excess Bread
The Nocturnal River
I have no room for excess bread. My pantry is full: Jam and chips, chickpeas and dark-roast, fair trade pre-ground coffee. I have a place for curious spices: smoked and sweet paprika in the zucchini loaf, Cardamom and cinnamon and saffron rest in glass jars. You brought Buddha’s hand from that fresh-air market and we zested off the skin to place in our dirty-chai to lift its fragrance and smooth its fl flavor avor like a bedspread on Sunday morning. I have no space for excess bread. My cat holds her court amongst the rice and fl flour. our. Fur the color of roasted-creamsicle, a macaroon fresh out of the oven. Bagels and buns wait behind marshmallows to seek her counsel. Chirps and purrs pounce onto the twine that hugs the cupcake mix. Sugar cubes and a pillar of Himalayan pink salt fl flank ank the truffl truffle, e, coconut, and extra-virgin olive. Royal baking powder is a pretender to the throne. The plot is not mine to give. I have no control. I have no room for excess bread.
An anonymous incantation: The Leaves rustle off rain drops into a puddle below its branches stretching akimbo, towards The Horizon. A quick and quiet kiss, The Clouds retreat behind The Mountain. Moonbeams splash on treetops and fl floods oods The Fields asleep, next to The Forest. All drown in its wet glow; Foxes, Bats and The Secret Mushrooms. The Mouse fl floats oats downstream. Rescued by The Owl but falls, dives into The Nocturnal River.
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the beat never drops Nikita Serdiuk | Contributing Writer New England is famous for a lot of things. A lot of its universities are dream schools for students all around the world. The name Tom Brady appears on social media and in everyone’s conversations once football season begins; these talks becoming louder and louder as the Super Bowl grows closer. And of course, Massachusetts invented Dunkin’ Donuts, which is now serving coffee and food for people from all over the globe. One thing New England is not famous for is its EDM and electronic music scene. NE is stuck between the two major music-centric cities of New York and Montreal. Between the Puritan mentality and the Boston law prohibiting any events from happening after 2 a.m., the genre is forbidden from flourishing. Additionally, New Englanders prefer more popular and seemingly comprehensible genres such as rap, pop, country and indie music. That being said, there are enthusiasts providing club events with music in the electronic genres. For example, Community Links and Dusk Till Done are events happening in Boston, providing a rave atmosphere which is now slowly generating in Boston.
“The idea of PLUR (which stands for peace, love, unity and respect) has been followed by rave goers for years.” Back in the 90s, raves were events usually organized in warehouses, old churches or other unsavory places, which helps to combats the prices, selectivity and music choice of major clubs. The idea of PLUR (which stands for peace, love, unity and respect) has been followed by rave goers for years. It appears that raves these days have been following the mold of the 90s. There are only two EDM organizations in New England and Boston. Glenn Williams is the manag-
er of WBCA 102.9 FM, Boston Community Radio. According to Williams, the first reason for the EDM resurgence is urban renewal. Ten to 15 years ago, a lot of clubs and bars were replaced with other buildings resulting in a lot of EDM or electronic music spots being shut down. The clubs were a crucial part of electronic music culture. Their disappearance caused interest for the genre to fall. Even though electronic music and EDM are going through a decay, there are still some signs of a rebirth. According to Williams, the reason for that is technology. Nowadays, technology has reached the point of development where anyone who has a computer, musical ability and some knowledge of musical theory can make and perform music. This has created a lot of new artists and musicians that have started to write and make music, which has provided growth in almost every genre, including electronic music and EDM. But according to Williams, this has taken a toll on “the feeling” of the genre, making it increasingly difficult to replicate live what an artist has done on his laptop and other technology. The EDM and electronic music condition in universities across New England is similar to the situation in the whole region. According to Jackson Lucier, who is a student at the University of New Hampshire and a member of Electronic Dance Music Community of UNH, students in New England are not interested in EDM or electronic music. One of the reasons for this is a switch of where students hang out. Unlike the 90s, students in college are not going out to clubs that much anymore, preferring to head to bars or house parties, where more popular genres are being played. However, a growing interest takes place in colleges and universities as well with more students paying interest to electronic music and such subgenres as house, trance, dubstep and trap in particular. All in all, the situation with electronic music in New England now is far from perfect. It has lost the popularity and influence it had in the 90s. With the increase of technology, greater access to a wide variety of music and subgenres, the electronic music scene is moving in the right direction. Hopefully, in a couple years it will take its spot near hip-hop, pop, and other major genres.
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what the feminist Delaney Ripley | Contributing Writer
“So... if you’re a feminist... don’t you like... uh... hate men?” I just can’t help but exhale a sigh of disappointment whenever I hear someone regard a feminist as a ‘man hater.’ Social media is the largest contribution to the destruction of this powerful word. According to Roxane Gay and her article “Bad Feminist,” ‘real’ feminism is seen as “anger, humorlessness, militancy, unwavering principles, and a prescribed set of rules for how to be a proper feminist woman, or at least a proper white, heterosexual, feminist women—hate pornography, unilaterally decry the objectification of women, don’t cater to the male gaze, hate men, hate sex, focus on career, don’t shave.”
enough to break societal norms and believe in more for women, then damn, you’ve got a scarlet letter plastered on your clothes, and you are nothing more than a ‘bad feminist.’
“There is a real meaning of feminism. It’s clear: equality.” The misconstructed idea of feminism is now what many individuals refer to as the true, raw definition. I walked through my dorm, stopped and asked someone, “What’s feminism?” The responses I got varied in depth, but each had one main idea: feminism is the practice of being “pro-woman.” These are responses from well-educated, 19-year-old individuals who have taken classes that speak on behalf of women’s rights. We have allowed social media to become our baseline for world events, even though the bias that lies in media consumes the real truth entirely. In 2018, CBS News released a poll that found 46 percent of American women aged 18-35 identified as feminists, while only 34 percent of women over the age of 35 identifying the same way. Twenty three percent of men identified as feminists. Many women are afraid to place themselves into this category; you move into a vulnerable phase, it’s like walking onto a stage naked. There is a real meaning of feminism. It’s clear: equality. Equality among everyone; man, woman and all other genders. If only this meaning were advertised in the media. I wonder what would happen to the percentage of people identifying as a feminist if they knew they were claiming they are all for equality among everyone.
Since the 1900s, women have been fighting to expand their rights in all aspects of life, yet our roles seem to be confined to cooking, cleaning, having children and catering to our spouse. If you are one of those brave
There is some good news, however. There’s a magnitude of individuals fighting for the right kind of feminism. Tarana Burke, founder of the #MeToo Movement, is influencing victims of sexual assault and harassment everywhere. Patrisse Cullors, co-founder of Black Lives Matter, has made countless efforts in fighting anti-black racism. Beyoncé created her album “Lemonade” as a tribute to women of color around the world. Hillary Clinton was the first female to become the presidential nominee for a major political party, and has worked effortlessly to fight for women’s rights. Oprah Winfrey has made a tremendous impact
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in efforts to end unequal pay and empowerment for women of color. Ruth Bader Ginsburg uses her intelligence and legal skills every day to fight for equality in the courtroom. The core of feminism is equality, and nothing more. Women want rights for everyone, and in a world full of crime and discrimination, we need strong feminists to lead us to equality. As Clara Perron, a senior English major and Women’s Studies minor says, “feminists promote evolution, pushing humanity onward and upward towards remodeling society into a more equal and just world for all individuals.” Women are beginning to hold more seats in Congress, obtaining 23.4 percent of the total spots in the U.S House of Representatives. These strong, feminist women fight for social justice, equality among sexes, an end to sexual harassment and violence, closure of the wage gap and so many other broad issues. There is no desire to get ahead of men in any of these situations, just to get on the same level, and maybe earn some respect along the way.
“Every inch of the world is consumed with discrimination, and the need for feminism is stronger than ever.” “Picture a judicial scale with one side holding the privileges and powers of men, while the other side holds the privileges and powers of women. Of course, the scale is unequal, with the man’s side weighing more. Yet if I wanted to make it equal, would I have to take away the powers and privileges on the man’s side? No. I could just add more privileges and powers to the woman’s side” says Clara Perron. Women are reprimanded for desiring equality among the sexes, even though there is no logical reason as to why in the twenty-first century women can’t make the same amount of money or work in governmental offices. Women fighting for more rights does not take anything away from men, but rather builds on to the little that woman already have. Every inch of this world is consumed with discrimination, and the need for feminism is stronger than ever. Regardless if women are perceived as bad feminists or good ones, it’s better to have them than to experience a world dominated by discrimination against the sexes. — 17 —
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Life on The Road photographs by: Maxim Mayone instagram: @maxmayone
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The Land of Broken Controllers Sean Crimmins | Contributing Writer
“Warning: EA Sports video game series FIFA may result in broken controllers or bouts of rage, or both” Imagine you’re playing with your friend, you’re up 1-0, there’s only two minutes left in the game and you’ve been dominating possession of the ball. This game should be in the bag, you’re just waiting for that final whistle. You make a pass to one of the wingers, seeing him wide open; it’s a safe play. Sorry to say but the game has other plans, it instead passes to the winger about 15 feet away who’s smothered by a defender. The pass gets picked off, opponents racing down the pitch on a breakaway, taking a shot from outside the box. One may think that the goalie has the meatball of a shot under control, but instead it deflects off his gloves and into the back of the net, leveling the game just before it could end.
people are playing FIFA, it’s safe to assume there will be some expression of frustration, whether that be screaming at the TV screen (which has been shown to be really effective in changing the course of the game, or simply smashing your roommate’s laptop screen after gronk-spiking the Playstation controller into the seat which was home to the resting laptop, only because you lost in the final minutes of a game. FIFA brings out a certain sense of competitiveness in people, normally only brought out in real-life scenarios. Nothing is worse for a
“FIFA brings out a certain sense of competitiveness in people, normally only brought out in real-life scenarios.” competitive person than losing a close game, only adding to FIFA’s infamous reputation of the game that equates to the most broken
All that hard work of dominating your opponent just got erased in the last minute or so of the game and all because of one misfired pass. Welcome to FIFA for those who haven’t played before. And for those who have, I apologize for having brought up some bad memories. FIFA is hard to beat when it comes to rage-inducing video games. Whether it be losing a close game, letting up a bad goal or getting a tough foul call. When — 20—
controllers. Although this can be said for just about any sports video game or video game in general, FIFA seems to be the top offender. There are many things that happen in-game that get players angry, probably the most common one being misfired passes. The odds of one guy being able to rush all the way up field to score are pretty abysmal, making passing an important aspect of the game. Naturally when your passes keepmissing your intended target and the other team gets possession, you’re bound to get flustered. We will now take a moment of silence for all the controllers that have broken while playing FIFA and another moment for the wallet’s of the perpetrators. One bad pass can lead to a trip back to Best Buy, where the employee has a new controller waiting for you everytime you walk through those doors. Despite all this rage, frustration and broken controllers, EA Sports has this ability to bring us back every year, to keep playing this very fun, yet endlessly frustrating, video game.
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Hate to Love It Caroline Fitzgerald | Contributing Editor
the dad is saying yes after meeting him just once, but then proceed to scream at the dads who say no. “YOU ARE RUINING YOUR DAUGHTERS CHANCE!” We really don’t take sides… We all want Colton for ourselves. The show drags on, leaving us on a cliffhanger with every commercial break. The short time bought by the commercials allows us to spill our thoughts and talk over one another trying to get a word in. Everyone wants to know one thing: for weeks they’ve been teasing us that Colton will become so distraught that he literally runs off and hops a fence to get away. So: will he hop the damn fence this week?? Spoiler alert: he doesn’t hop the fence. For the fifth week in a row. How has Chris Harrison dragged me along this entire season and left Colton hopping the fence to somewhere within the last few episodes? Honestly, good work, Chris. Touché.
You hate to admit it, but you and your roommates just bought a bottle of rosé and a cheese platter for Monday night’s “The Bachelor” episode. You are way too hype. “The most shocking season of the Bachelor starts now,” says Chris Harrison, the host. He says that every. Single. Season. They probably use the same recording. You are THERE for it. Colton, the Bachelor, hits the hometowns this week with the four girls left in this bizarre, romantic competition. He does the same thing over and over: greets the parents, gives the mom some flowers, awkwardly talks to her and then asks the dad for his daughter’s hand in marriage. He literally asks four dads for their daughters hand in marriage, and somehow the dads almost always each say yes. My roomates and I scream at the screen asking why
As the episode comes to a close we hear “Next week” *dramatic pause* “...on the Bachelor.” And then a million previews and spoilers of the next episode make it out to be something that it probably won’t be, but hey who cares, we all know we will be sitting in the same place at the same time next week. We all scream, “CASSIE’S GONNA WIN,” or “NO SHE’S NOT” and then everyone has that one friend “I looked up the spoilers so…” You beg them to keep their mouth shut, but you know you’ll find out soon enough.
“We all know it’s ridiculous, yet every Monday we’re pulled back.” We talk to people on the campus connector the next morning about what happened, it seems like everyone watches the show. We all know its ridiculous yet every Monday we’re pulled back. It’s like someone you hate tripping and falling...you kinda sorta love to see it. Like the other shameful acts of life: a drunk cig, ski ping class, juuling, junk food, being absolutely consumed and addicted to social media, having five cups of coffee a day--you don’t want to admit it, but you love it. They are the guilty pleasures that life gives us.
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homecoming Casey Farrell | Contributing Writer I see bars for miles with spikes resting on top of each piece. The sky is gray, lifeless, speckled with thunderheads across the sky. The road looks as if it has been just paved, not a blade of grass out of place. Private institutions like this one seem to have huge endowments from no-name investors. The drive took us farther north than I have ever been. Everything was so serene. We hadn’t passed a house for miles and the forest was growing thicker. As the world around me became more claustrophobic, the air seemed fresher, as if there was an abundance of it. The leaves of the trees acted as tiny hands giving out oxygen to anyone willing to grab it, and I never seem to have trouble breathing anywhere I go. Being so far away from home made me miss her. Sarah was so beautiful that night as she was laying under the moonlight. Her dark hair spread across the grass with the only white being in her eyes and her pale skin. Now that same paleness of color has been transfused into the sky, but I no longer see it as beautiful. No, in fact, it doesn’t even catch my eyes. They’re stuck looking back into the past. It’s hard to believe that I’m going away for so long. My mother cried when I made my decision to leave. I was the first person ever in my family to go off to such a well-known institution. My father shook his head with tears in his eyes, saying, “you can’t possibly be my son.” I had done something that no one else had done. I think I’ll be famous for quite some time, an irregularity in my little town.
chairs in front of me. It’s almost funny to me, to watch them squirm, analyze me, attempt to understand me. How could the sweet boy who used to deliver their daily paper, and hang out with their kids after school be the same young man sitting in front of them. To them it’s astonishing how a single person could accomplish something so profound. The door slams in front of me and I’m left alone in a room with nothing but a wooden table and a chair. The building I’m in is so old that the idea of soundproofing had not even spawned from human intellect. “I don’t know why he’s here,” said Officer Coalfield. “Well, we can’t send him to the city, they’re already flooded with cases. Besides this case falls within the town’s jurisdiction and we’re not even sure it was him.” Said the chief. “There’s something not right about him, just look at him. He’s just sitting in that room and smiling. Remember how that little boy almost drowned a couple of summers ago? He was the only one there. He had that damned same look on his face.” “You know that case was inconclusive, there were no other witnesses and the kid’s a mute. But for right now that girl’s family is on the other side of that door scared shitless and they deserve to know what happened.”
I’ll be quite honest - nothing ever happens in the kind of town I grew up in. A small town, hidden away in the country with their population printed nicely on the sign on the way into town. The biggest thing that’s happened in the last thirty years was the fire station burning down (I know, ironic). No one has left before, you could say I’m the first. It’s almost as if I am a hometown hero. I know to have an understanding of how the world really works and having the skills necessary to function but I’ve had my doubts. I feel like it should be a nice fresh start, no one will know the real side of me. I’m given a blank canvas, one that I can paint, however I like. I wonder what my roommate, my floor and my teachers will be like. I hope I like them as much as I liked Sarah. The car slowed to a crawl, then stopped. My car door opened and I waited for Frank to help me out of the car. I was greeted by an older man with a large white lab coat whose hair was receding.
The door opened and Officer Coalfield walked through the door, hands shaking, eyes red from staying up all night. The call came in last night at about 3 a.m. after someone had passed by the tree and saw what I had created. Butchered, cut, torn, bitten, clawed, that’s how they described my work. But I find those words to be so disturbing, so coarse to the ear. I find my work elegant and tasteful. If anything, I made Sarah all she was ever going to be, all the town was ever going to be. Forever young and beautiful.
The gravel scraped against my black dress shoes as I stepped out of the car. After my decision was made I celebrated by wearing a suit and I was able to retell my experience to an entire audience. I loved it. I was able to relive the whole experience; I almost couldn’t contain myself. To see grown men nervous as they sat in wooden
“I don’t know what happened. I know as much as you do.”
“Theodore…Theodore you with us?” Officer Coalfield said as he opened a manila folder. I looked up from my shackled hands and gave him a smile. “Hello Frank.” “Tell me what happened,” he said sternly.
“Stop fucking around Theodore, Sarah was with you the whole night.” “Well, she was not with me for the whole night, she was
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my date to the prom, but we weren’t joined at the hip.”
painting of Dore, they’ll probably just begin to cry. “
“Her friends, your friends, said they saw you leave together.”
“What happened to you, Theo?” his voice began to shake.
“Well she wasn’t feeling well, she asked if we could go outside for some air.”
“Nothing I’ve always been like this, I just got tired of the magazines and movies; they just weren’t doing it for me anymore”
‘What was wrong with her?”
“Where’s the rest of her?”
“She was feeling tired.”
“What are you talking about? I made her more than she was ever going to be.”
“Tired?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“So I fixed her.”
“Oh, you mean her heart?”
“How did you fix her?”
“…Yes.”
“I took her outside.”
“That’s mine forever and I’m never going to give that up to anyone.”
“What happened outside?” “She was kind of shy, you know. She grabbed my arm and told me she just wanted a break from everything so we left through the gym exit.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“And then?”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“And then I went back inside”
“You ever been high up on a ledge and thought, ‘What if I just jump?’ ”
“Not with her?”
“Frank have you ever had a thought that scared you?”
“No, of course not.”
“No, I was getting cold and I told her I was going inside but she insisted on staying outside”
“Have you ever arrested a person that was so evil that you just wanted to kill them?”
“Theodore, we searched your car,” he said with a grave face.
“There’s been a couple of people that I’ve encountered, but that’s beside the point. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“And what’d you find?” “There was blood and hair found on the bumper of your car” “Is that all you found?”
“What if you did it?” “What if I did what?”
“Why did you do it?”
“What if you killed those people? What if you listened to those thoughts?”
“Why’d I go back inside? Because it was cold. Come on Frank, pay attention.”
“But I didn’t.”
I looked at the officer and I snickered, “This town has been so bland lately, I wanted to add some color to everyone’s lives,” I said. “What did you just say?” “Come on Frank, it is obvious this town was boring, it has dire need of some entertainment, we haven’t had a community event in months.”
“Theodore?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. I could hear the anger growing within him. “I gave a bunch of hicks a masterpiece. But I doubt that they’ll be able to understand it, like infants staring at a
“You could play out that scenario as many times as you want, 999,999 times you never even touch your gun, but there’s one time you do. Every choice we make changes the reality around us, but too often we miss out on that one special reality. We’re all capable of it, but we never make the decision.” “I jumped, Frank. I did it and now you’re living in my reality, one that only had a fraction of a chance to become real and I did it. I squeezed the life out of her and then I cut her straight down the middle so everyone could fall in love with what I fell in love with, her heart and soul. After all isn’t beauty what lies on the inside?”
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News from around the universe My apartment is broken into by government agents at 4 in the morning. I’m handed a cup of fair-trade, dark roast coffee and a sealed envelope with the word classified stamped on the front. I’m told I have 48 hours to verify the validity of the documents within and to mail back the contents to the Department of Secret Stuffs. They tell me there’s a self-addressed envelope inside as well. I notice that there’s no postage and when I start to ask why they’re being so cheap they’ve disappeared. After falling back asleep, cleaning up and refilling my spilled coffee, I thoroughly inspect the envelope. The contents within appear to be a collection of entirely true news stories from around the universe and various dimensions. These stories may not have a direct bearing on our lives, but they shed light on issues and situations that could affect us here on Earth. The first article is from “The West Dakota Tribune”:
“West Dakota Residents Charged with New Tax on Breathing” Residents of West Dakota will be forced to pay a a new tax next year. The bill passed state legislature late last night and was signed by the governor 27 seconds ago. The Breath of Fresh Air Act proposes a 40% tax on constituents for breathable air. Businesses and white male landowners are exempt. Our first three reporters were forcibly “Freedomed” from the capital by red-blooded American leaders after receiving
Zach Lewis | Content Editor multiple patriotic blows to their person. One of the legislators in question released a four-page statement which just contained the repetition of “U.S.A.!” After the matter was resolved with no consequences, we contacted the State Senator Mya Pocketsful, the author of the bill, through a backchannel at a pecan roasting factory that exploits squirrel and chipmunk labor.
We did not feel the need to reach out to anyone truly affected by the bill. Our advertisers reassured us on this position. The governor’s office is currently drafting legislation in congruence with Fresh Scents to monetize sunlight, déjà vu and that contently full feeling after eating just the right amount of food.
“Right now, people only get their breathing from oxygen produced by algae and trees. This is extremely inefficient,” said State Senator Pocketsful. “There’s also no quality control. People who provide jobs for their communities deserve to breathe better air.”
This next article comes from a dimension where all wars were finally ended by Phil Collins. People decided in this dimension to open their ears, hearts and minds. It’s from a publication called the “Daily Heath Ledger”:
Outside of a recent town hall meeting we spoke with a white male landowner. “Maybe think about how you and your child are going to breathe and cut out that third meal,” a local uncle and jet ski connoisseur commented. ”It’s really frivolous how the poor spend their money on food, medicine and shelter.”
You’ve probably noticed the news has been absent of any coverage of war, death or destruction. Before boredom overtakes you, this is the recent result of a song that was released last Friday by Phil Collins. The name is so powerfully blinding it will not be etched here. All copies have been pressed into old Mariah Carey 45s. Once it hit the airwaves soldiers all across the world put down their guns. Researchers also cite a large viral movement of holier-than-thou sharing and one-upmanship help spread the music that healed the hearts of humanity.
The business community is happy with the recent bill. We contacted the spokesperson of Fresh Scents, a company whose sole purpose is to decay the environment and promote the use of baby koala traps. “The atmosphere in West Dakota is made up mainly of pollutants from our factories, so the people are essentially breathing in our product. These toxins, or what we like to call lung enhancers, are being enjoyed from our factory for free. We can’t have people stealing the air we breathe. Breathing isn’t a right. When are the poor going to start thinking about how their poverty affects corporations?” — 24 —
“Phil Collins End All Wars”
“I first heard it after my Bing search for lions and kings,” stated a former ruthless dictator from a country that’s located somewhere. “I immediately disarmed all of the nuclear warheads, death squads and goon patrols. Mr. Collins has taught me that I don’t need to torture my people to be happy.” Western world leaders refused to
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the Universal Law of Gravitation. As a journalist I will portray both sides of the argument regardThe sweeping string arrangeless of the validity of the claims. ment, from the creator of such These people of science assert hits like “Easy Lover, ” throughthat this force attracts every partiout the piece has caused masses of cle to every other particle in the people to weep uncontrollably for universe with respects to distance the beauty of life. “I’ve heard God and mass. and their name is Phil Collins. I mean, he was in Genesis. He was Genesis! That’s enough for my ethnocentric view of the world to come to this conclusion,” stated a person that would not stop calling us. comment and were heard mumbling.
However you categorize the former bongo player on one song off of George Harrison’s “All Things Must Pass” album, this musical number has ended all disease, famine and heartbreak. Speaking the lyrics has even been shown to cure burn victims. Everyone on earth has resolved all of their problems after realizing the true meaning of life, which I don’t need to reiterate here. If only we were all in that timeline, but do we really want Phil Collins to have that much power? I’d like to check back in on that dimension in a couple of years to see if they’ve kept it up. Next up is a story where a certain dimension’s scientist are having trouble convincing their people of some scientific truths:
“Fringe Gravity Theory Pushed by Scientist” A group of radical scientists have recently published what many lawmakers feel to be fringe science. Chief among them being
We visited a rural state to see how representatives are dealing with this new information. “I’ve never seen it!” shouted a lawmaker that had bravely fled up to the rooftop of the community center during a town hall meeting in his home district. “Jump, then!” responded a constituent. This started a raucous volley. “Jump! Jump! Jump!” Meanwhile, the statesman tweeted about vindication and triumph over evil. A politician we spoke with on the phone said, “Forgetting the fact that this hoax was created by an — 25 —
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operative from a hostile foreign government, from whom we won independence, the science just isn’t there. Next these scientists, more like terrorists, will say that gravity evolved and is gender-neutral. Where are the scientists that are researching and experimenting on projects with real American ideals, like a football you can eat.” When pressed further the elected official mumbled before abruptly hanging up the phone, “It’s more of an issue of state’s rights.” Other theories considered wackadoo, as Rudy Giuliani once wrote on a bathroom wall in an adult movie theater, are heliocentrism, Jesse Eisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, and the rule of thirds in comedy. No opinion here on the issue. Reporting both sides equally and fairly. Next, we turn to our bear reporter with their chilling exposé on salmon and 101 uses for honey. I grab my second cup of coffee and ponder about what’s going to happen when those 48 hours are up. The clock in my apartment was eaten by a racoon so I’m not entirely sure what time it is. The next article in here is about a different version of Google that has solved world hunger. I’m sure there’s nothing dystopic or anything terrifying about this dimension:
“Google Solves World Hunger” Our benevolent overlords at Google have created the new Foodle application to combat hunger anywhere in the world.
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Access your Gmail account (you need a Gmail account, Google’s version of email) and click on the Foodle icon whose image will rotate depending on whichever country’s artisanal labor is most popular that week. Once those two accounts are linked together, allow those two accounts to access, review and investigate your Google Plus page, Youtube account, location, microphone, camera, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest and Snapchat. Along with Foodle, engineers at Google have manufactured a portable and wireless 3D BioPrinter for the app. Each BioPrinter comes equipped with enough nutrients to last a year before the ink needs to be refilled. After charging the BioPrinter (which can take up to ten hours), sync your device with the printer using Bluetooth technology and download the software update. This will take around forty hours or whenever it is that you fall asleep weeping from hunger and frustration. Now, upon awakening and after all of the software is in place, open up Foodle and on the homepage click on “Begin Assessment.” You should feel a slight breeze. Foodle removes your clothing and is inspecting every inch of your body. This is entirely for enhancing your dining experience and has nothing to do with market research, advertising, or anything from a Phillip K. Dick novel. A faint giggling may be heard but you should ignore it, or maybe do some sit-ups. Once the physical inspection is complete you will undergo a barrage of psychologically invasive questioning to better understand how your subconscious influences your taste buds. Information that will never be sold to Doritos.
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scared you all. We don’t blame you. Also, not everyone was a fan Thank goodness we don’t live in with turning the oceans into cotthe same reality as this obtrusive ton candy and we see now how corporation. Let’s see, here’s what that could be considered bizarre appears to be a letter to the Editor to some people. Cephalopods of Time from the Universe. Not were big fans though. Oh wow, the magazine, but the editor of we almost forgot about that giant the fourth dimension, I guess: spider. Yikes!
“A Letter from the Universe” In an unprecedented turn of events, all of existence will return back to two Thursdays ago precisely at 2:37 p.m. EST. The news was beamed straight from the Universe directly into the Editor of Time’s email inbox earlier this morning which he forwarded to multiple news outlets. After skimming through twenty boring pages of numbers we arrived at a recording from the Universe giving an explanation for the date change. Here is a transcript of the abridged version from the recording in its entirety: “We come in peace and take us to your leader! Ha, just joking. We meant, we mean you no harm but don’t take us to your leader. Just wait a month from now and you won’t even believe… but we digress. This may come to a shock to you but the Universe had a really bad day those two Thursdays ago with Earth. We really dropped the ball and we’re sorry. People, or humans, not sure which you prefer, deserve better from your Universe. Every phone call was missed, no trains ran on time and coffee and alcohol were spilled everywhere. We’re not proud of these shortcomings and we are deeply apologetic. Stoves, coffeepots and toasters were left on all day, or were they? It was hard to tell. It was a confusing time which led to the last two weeks of mishaps. We accidentally turned the gravity off for about a minute and that really — 26 —
We’ve been spending too much time focusing on what we think people want from us, like cotton candy oceans, and that had us making poor decisions. We were letting things slip. The Universe needs to focus on what we need to do to be happy, but this isn’t about us. We’re returning all of existence back to two Thursdays ago in about four hours. All of us will go back. We’re not proud of this but we, as a universe, deserve a second chance. Oh, we’ll all remember that this happened too. No one will have their memory erased. This isn’t some hack job.” The recording went on to wax poetically about the meaning of existence, the importance of kindness and telling those you love how you feel because “there are no do-overs in life as far as time is concerned, except for this one, and it won’t happen again, maybe, so you should really feel lucky,” and so on. Information that we will not burden you with here. There’s about a dozen more stories in here on various types of paper. I grow tired of reading and think about watching a movie instead. I’ll definitely be able to verify all of these stories after a little bit of ‘me’ time. I’ll save “101 Ways to Cure Cancer” after I rent something new on Amazon. There’s probably some new films on Netflix too.
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home is where the heartache is Jamie Ammon | Managing Editor Leaving home. It’s a tragic phrase, charged with images of dramatic farewells and scary new beginnings. It conjures up the idea of an era ending. Of swing sets with no one on them and childhood bedrooms collecting dust. Even though it’s an irrefutable reality for all who have somewhere to call home, we still feel the desperate desire to deny it. We have to grow up and that means changing. We even used to dream of the changes that may come. Yet when that day arrives, we can’t help but ask, “Why now?”
“We have to grow up and that means changing. Yet when that day arrives, we can’t help but ask, ‘Why now?’” When I was little, I played imaginary games with my brother and sister. My little sister and I would set up our Barbie doll world with a house and a family and babies, and it would inevitably be destroyed by Bionicles controlled by our big brother. I have always known, since I was a little girl in a perfect little family, that I wanted that out of life. I want the house and family. I want that perfect little picture that I created as a kid. And now, as an almost adult, I recognize that in order to get that I need to move on. But somehow I find myself pushing away from the path that I have worked all my life to get on.
I had the perfect American life with the perfect little struggles that came with it. I fought with my siblings. I rebelled against doing chores. I pretended I did not know what my parents were talking about when they called me out for doing something wrong. Sometimes, I felt like my life was so hard and so unfair. As it turns out, it only seemed hard because each new year brought new challenges. Babies cry so much because an empty stomach is quite literally the worst thing they have ever felt. Little kids cry when they don’t get their way because that’s their greatest struggle to date. Teenagers rebel and fight their parents because they are older than they have ever been, so why are they not old enough to do anything they please? Once we get through each stage of our lives we can look back on the step before and laugh. “I thought I had problems then? I wish my life were still that easy.” Now that I’m through childhood and I’m looking at moving out of my parents’ house, I find myself well and truly terrified. I don’t laugh about my old problems. Instead I am closer to tears. Why can’t I still pretend to be a grown-up? Why does it have to be real? Why can’t I just have my parents take all of my problems away and keep me safe forever? Of course, we can’t say any of this out loud. Out loud we are tough. Out loud we are so excited to finally get our own apartments and to empty our childhood bedrooms knowing full well that we will never refill them. I am never going to live with my parents again. I may visit and stay at the house on vacations, but it will never again be my home. I have to leave it all behind now, and I know that. But dammit, I am going to miss having my little sister be my biggest problem.
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Not Your Average Edible Julia Scorese | Content Editor
“Companies are filling their shelves with CBD infused products as soon as they can get their hands on it” CBD. I’m sure you’ve all heard it before since companies across the country are filling their shelves with infused products as soon as they can get their hands on it. With knowing that Cannabidiol, what we refer to as CBD, is one of the two primary chemical compounds that make up marijuana, you might question how this could possibly be legal. Disclaimer: if you didn’t already know, it won’t get you stoned, but I can promise, the benefits are proven to be endless - well, minus the high. It’s a hell of a lot more than your average edible, and you definitely won’t get thrown in cuffs for using it. So grab yourself an infused coffee at downtown, Newmarket’s ‘Crack Skulls,’ and take a read. To get technical here, Tetrahydrocannabinol, what we know as THC, is the other primary natural cannabinoid that makes up the cannabis sativa plant - pot, weed, dope, herb, whatever you want to call it. THC is the reason users get ‘high’ from smoking weed; however, both chemicals have their own remedial characteristics. The two act in opposing ways, counteracting one another’s benefits to trigger different receptors in our brain and bodies. The interactions impact the delivery of neurotransmitters: chemicals in charge of carrying messages. That’s
exactly why people feel and act the way they do when they’re high. It all depends on the strain and levels of CBD and THC. By no means am I shaming recreational marijuana usage, but straight CBD does not cause the euphoric effects that exist with THC, and that could be for the better. CBD is preferred for the lack of side effects that come with being deliriously ‘baked.’ Strains that are higher in THC naturally result in increased heart rate, slower reaction times, memory loss and poor coordination, all of which raise anxiety levels. CBD diminishes the hallucinatory effects of THC. Now you’re probably asking yourself, ‘So what’s the hype about if I’m not getting high?’ I’m no doctor either, but according to the World Health Organization’s expert committee on drug depen— 28 —
dence, research has offered a long list of conditions that CBD benefits. Don’t just jump to ditching the Adderall or prescription meds just like that; but, if you suffer from anxiety, focus or any other mental health conditions, it’s something to consider. Even if you’re simply looking for a quick bring-me-up, give CBD a try. It’s distinct effects work to calm the brain and support the hippocampus, essential to healthy emotion and memory. The best part, it can be infused into just about anything you can imagine - one of the most popular: CBD coffee. It sounds complex, but when consumed, the cannabinoids enter your bloodstream which directly connects to our body’s endocannabinoid system, in charge of balancing mood, sleep patterns, appetite and more. It interacts with this system to let out more endocannabinoids along with
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bination of the two, have extensive mood-boosting attributes that coincide and dwindle the burden of depression and anxiety. And again, it’s all about those scientific effects on our brain that lead to positive results. To some, the bonuses may be confusing considering coffee is an ‘upper’ due to high amounts of caffeine as opposed to cannabis which is a notorious downer. As we know, coffee is all about that early morning energy that gets us going throughout the day, but too much caffeine can tip us over the edge. Have you ever been able to drink a full cup of coffee then fall asleep? Probably not. Caffeine tends to boost anxiety and insomnia on its own, so the great thing about CBD coffee is the contrasting effects. It wipes out those negative alter effects to create the perfect, yet calming energy for a great start to the day. hormones, enzymes and all that good stuff that makes us feel calm and relaxed. CBD’s most outstanding benefits are reported by its ability to combat stress in users. College students especially can understand; anxiety tends to consume us from time to time - whether it’s just that point in the semester or on a daily basis, we can all admit to suffering the pressure of course work while maintaining a social life. Stress is the hidden factor of most anxiety disorders and has the potential to intensify the causes of mental illness. It works to diminish mental health all over the spectrum, ranging from depression and PTSD to autism symptoms as well. Many consumers have weaned off antipsychotic medications for the sole purpose that CBD aids the same causes but with fewer side effects. For those who are looking to get hooked, it simply serves as a mechanism to cope with life’s stressors whether you suffer from mental illness or not.
CBD isn’t some ‘taboo fad’ just targeting college students and young adults, it’s becoming a contemporary revolution for all generations. In fact, the benefits of CBD oils and infused products go far beyond mental health perks. Research over the past couple of years has proven extensive physical health benefits, going as far as reduced risk of cancer, diabetes, protection against the bones and skin, maintenance of brain health and trauma as well as producing better cholesterol profiles and cardiovascular diseases. So now that you’re CBD geniuses, and hopefully big coffee fanatics, you’re in store to uncover the best morning routine. As you know, CBD and coffee both display benefits on their own, so by merging the powers of the two, infused coffee has become one of the biggest trends. Mixing the essential morning drink with the benefits of CBD even has some OG cannabis haters hooked. The com-
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“CBD and coffee both display benefits on their own, so by merging the powers of the two, infused coffee has become one of the biggest trends.” Where can you get CBD infused coffee around UNH? As mentioned, downtown Newmarket’s ‘Crackskulls Books & Coffee’ has been one of the hot spots to sit and sip some of the best CBD coffee. If you’re looking for quick and on-the-go, ‘Coffee Craving’ cart in Lee has been tied for the best coffee against ‘The Coffee Station’ in Newmarket for years, but since October they’ve been serving CBD infused coffee. For those who were on the fence, the CBD ice coffee became a game changer. The line may be long, but it’s definitely worth the wait.
UNH Club Volleyball by: Niko Kakouris instagram: nikok5_
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the long and winding road Doug Rodoski | Contributing Writer March of 1983 (the wonders of the internet - I pulled I trust that Beatles fans will be forgiving when I utilize the song that was released in 1970 to illustrate my up the box score which detailed a 114-102 win for the road to the University of New Hampshire in Durham. Celtics over the Atlanta Hawks - and can actually watch the game on YouTube!). After living the first 10 years of my life in New York I visited the UNH campus in Durham for the first (mid-Hudson valley region) and attending high time, in the summer of 1982. We had a day off at the school in Florida, I entered the military for the first base, and all piled into a friend’s pickup truck to come time in 1981. over to Durham for “clubbing.” After our ringleader I was initially assigned to Pease Air Force Base (AFB) said or did something to offend the management of on the New Hampshire seacoast. Now Pease Interone of the Main Street establishments, we were invitnational Tradeport, in the 1980s it was still under the ed to leave. Anyway, a short first visit and no college Strategic Air Command (SAC). There were FB-111s girls met on that trip! (a type of tactical attack aircraft) staged for counter After Pease AFB I was stationed in Guam, in the strike if a worst case scenario should ever develop; Marianas islands. I was at Anderson AFB for 15 this was still during the Cold War. months, and did similar USAF Security police duties I recall flying in to Logan Airport for the first time in at that SAC base. I finished my USAF time at PlattsApril of 1982; myself and my buddies caught the C burg in upstate New York. and J limo to Pease. (This was the predecessor to C If I am jumping around in my narrative, it is because, and J Bus service.) We were dropped off right at the gate to Pease; in our Class A uniforms and low quarter quite frankly, that has been what my life has been like. Exciting, but with a lot of moving parts. I haven’t shoes, we were sliding all over the place as the Seaeven gotten to the really good parts yet; however, I coast had just been pounded by a spring snowstorm. will illustrate how UNH Durham is, to me, an anchor What a first impression! in a travel-weary life. I came to love the air base, and the region. My work at Pease involved security police duties of the airfield After my Air Force time I attended a commercial diving school - for underwater work - in City Island, and weapons storage areas. Over the next year and New York. a half I went to see the Red Sox for the first time (no kidding - they played the Indians at Fenway and I saw I worked briefly for a Jacksonville dive company in Carl Yastrzemski hit a double in his final season in summer of 1986. I decided to re-enter the military 1983), and the Celtics of Bird-McHale-Parish fame in again (this time with the Army), and from 1987-1990 I was a Military policeman and served in Korea, Fort Hood (Texas), Panama and Saint Croix. I finished my Army enlistment in 1990 and moved back to New Hampshire as a civilian. I actually got into diving again; in the summer of 1990. A local diver was helping to clear anchorage space just across the Memorial Bridge on Badger Island. Working on scuba, it was the most fun 15.00/hr. job I ever had. I was glad to be done with the Army, however Operation Desert Shield (2 August 1990 - 17 January 1991) pushed itself into everyone’s consciousness thanks to CNN. I contemplated joining up again, and simply waited too long. I was actually at a Celtics game, in the old Boston Garden, with a friend, when there was an announcement at the arena that the initial conflict to expel Iraqi troops from Kuwait had begun (Jan. 16, 1991), with an aerial and naval bombardments. “Are — 32 —
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you joining up again?” my friend asked. I was still prevaricating, unwilling to give a solid answer. My inner hope was that things would resolve quickly with no coalition casualties. (The official ending date for the Gulf War was 28 February 1991.)
(2003/4, 2008/9 and 2010/11), finishing with my current unit in Londonderry. The deployments involved detainee operations, police transition teams and security for officers working with Iraqi police and their army.
Sometime in January or early February, I was working a retail job and living in Newmarket. I went to historic Marelli’s market on Main Street to buy some soup. While I waited to check out, an older
Finally, in an incredibly roundabout way, I ended up at UNH Durham in 2009. I did my third deployment and returned here again in 2011. My time here has been well worth the wait. The GI Bill was a huge help; my anthropology classes included on-campus archaeology. I have taken journalism classes such as sports writing and reporting the news. Writing for Main Street Magazine and The New Hampshire has given me an opportunity to look closely at the UNH sports teams. I was thrilled when the women’s crew team won two gold medals in three years at the Head of the Charles Regatta, a club team competing against bigger programs. I graduated in 2016 and am now in the English Writing MFA here on the Durham campus. Whether it is breakfast at Holloway Commons, studying at Dimond Library, socializing at the Memorial Union Building, participating in anthropology club activities or working alongside journalism students, I am surrounded every day by great young people who care about the world around them.
“Finally, on the morning of 9/11, I said, ‘F--k it, that’s it.’ I reenlisted at the Portland, Maine MEPS gentleman was raving about how young people were not willing to serve anymore. His rant followed me home to a fitful sleep. All through the 1990s, as I worked retail and hotel jobs to get by, I wondered if I should have joined up again. I also wanted to attend UNH in Durham, but did not have the money. Finally, on the morning of 9/11, I said, “F--k it, that’s it.” I reenlisted at the Portland, Maine MEPS Center, and joined an Army Reserve unit in Saco while I waited for my security clearance to allow me to be a Military policeman again. In November of 2001, I went to New York and connected with my cousins for Thanksgiving, going to Manhattan to observe Ground Zero firsthand. Getting out at the Port Authority in Midtown, the first thing I noticed was the flood of banners. There was an announcement at the arena (many were handwritten) asking for help locating victims of the terrorist attacks. The pieces of paper said things like: “My sister worked on the X Floor of the South Tower; please call this number if you know her whereabouts.” Unfamiliar with the buses in the city, I took subways and mostly walked down to Lower Manhattan. At Ground Zero there was hurricane fencing all around the remains of the Twin Towers and other buildings. Even after two and a half months there were identifiable pieces of buildings that were systematically being hauled away and hosed off to safeguard against contamination. The scene there reinforced my desire to serve again, and after waiting a year for my security clearance to come through, I picked up a unit in St. Petersburg, Florida, that was headed for Iraq. This was the first of three deployments there
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Sometimes I will pause in front of Thompson Hall, by the flagpole, and reflect on how many years I had to wait to become part of this great Wildcat community. It was truly a long and winding road that brought me here, and well worth the wait.
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writing wrongs Jamie Ammon | Managing Editor There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who divide people into two categories and those who don’t. I like to consider myself the latter.
But no. I sit at the computer for hours and get out some great stuff. Then, at the end of the day, or even the next morning, I reread it and I realize that all I’ve done is produce an article that, with Speaking honestly, if there are two groups of people, the right title, might be able to masquerthey’re the thinkers and the doers. These groups can ade as bottom-drawer clickbait. And be further recategorized into three groups: those that’s the greatest height it will reach. Sure, I could who think but should do, those who do but throw it in the magazine. We’ve got enough room should think, and those who really have no that I can squeeze my own page in without much of business involving themselves in any- a fuss. But when it comes down to it I’m going to dething at all. velop a guilty conscience because I know that I’ve just lowered the quality of the magazine by at least I edit because I can’t write. 5 percent--if I’m being kind to myself. I know in my You’d think that the journalistic food chain would heart of hearts that what comes from the creative have the best writers graduating and becoming side of my brain isn’t worth half of what the other editors. It would make sense that the editors get to works in the magazine are. tell everyone else what to do because they’re the head honchos - they’ve seen it all, done it all and, most importantly, written it all. They’re the most creative and special fruits in the bunch. Not so. It is true for some; we have an all-star cast of editors who are absolutely the sharpest pencils in the drawer. Caleb and Chad and Zach and Julia have all earned their stripes. But me? I edit because I can’t write. I’ve tried. Believe me. I’ve spent hours in front of a keyboard. Don’t get me wrong - something comes out. My fingers fly across the keys
and I end up with a passable piece of steaming bullshit. To my high school
English teacher, it was good enough. Very insightful, he thought. In reality I’m just highly adept at stringing
together a line of observations from SparkNotes and Wikipedia and passing it off as my own hard work.
When you’re bookish, no one looks too closely.
We receive some truly amazing submissions. Stuff I’m proud to edit. I get to go through and check off all the boxes to fix the grammar, and at the end of the day I can put my name in the credits and act like I made a difference. Yet if I’m being honest with myself, I should realize that’s all I should be adding. The verified Creative Types should be in charge of the content. Let me shred it for grammar and make it sound pretty and flow nicely. But leave the hard work up to the
prose pros.
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Early Spring 2019 Main Street
rye on the rocks Lucas Henry | Contributing Writer
of Cinnamon Rainbows, a popular Hampton surf shop, and frequents Rye on the Rocks. “I like it because it’s a pain in the ass. It kinda just makes it more fun.” As strange as this sentiment may sound, people seem to agree with him. The handful of individuals who visit these surf spots in the winter are closeknit and have known each other for a while. “My buddies and I would all get together and go surf and then go back to my [..] one buddy’s house who had a hot tub,” Carter explained. My fingers turned to clumsy frozen sausages in the icy morning air as I fumbled with the straps tying my surfboard down to the roof of my car. Ochre yellow and pale gold clouds built up on the horizon, backlit by the sunrise. It made for dramatic scenery as I wrestled on a wetsuit, gloves, boots and a hoodie. Soon I was standing by the water, board in hand, covered in 7mm of rubber from head to toe, watching the backspray of waves turn into blazing showers of spark as they caught the sunlight. The waves were good, my board was waxed and my suit was zipped. Now I just had to hop in the water and start paddling. Only one problem. It was February and the ocean was cold enough to paralyze a grown man in less time than it takes to cook a Poptart. Despite this, on a Monday morning heads bobbed between the troughs. Occasionally someone would hop up on one of the icy mammoths rolling in and hold on for dear life as they rode, kicking out before they crashed against the half-submerged rocks that Bass Beach is known for. Who are these people playing out
in the freezing water, when snow lines the boardwalk and beachfront shops are boarded up tight? That’s what I set out to discover, starting at one of the most iconic breaks in the Northeast: Rye on the Rocks, also known as Bass Beach. New England waves are frigid gray, foam flecked beasts that hit like a brick wall and have the unfortunate tendency to pick surfers up and bodyslam them onto the ocean, MMA style. Rye on the Rocks delivers on these classic rollers, offering New England’s most iconic left-hander curling off a rocky point break just north of the Hampton sea wall. Even on a warm summer day these waves can be intimidating, especially when you’re in constant threat of being caught inside and thrown up onto the very rocks that make this point so enticing. Asides from the year round consistency Bass Beach has to offer, what could possibly drive people to this special kind of madness? One surfer seemed to have an answer. “I like the fact that no one else is doing it.” Meet Carter. He works in the back —35—
“It’s just what we did in the winter if we weren’t skiing. You have that sense of camaraderie.” Carter and his friends are not the only group having some winter fun in the sun. According to him, there are plenty of grizzled surfers from older generations who have been hitting the beach snow or shine for upwards of thirty years. Together, along with a number of lone wolves who make it out whenever the surf is good, they constitute a rare and committed demographic of surfer. “Everyone’s on that same page of [being] dedicated to it,” Carter said, alluding to the way winter surfing culture has taken on a life of its own in the Northeast. It’s not just about the better waves and fewer crowds, what really ties these surfers together is raw love and dedication for the sport. When you’re bobbing out in the ocean, waiting for the next set to come in, and you look across to see people shivering alongside you, you know you’re out there for the same reason. That’s what brings this crazy group of New Englanders together and makes winter surfing something more than just an ill-advised pastime.
“anything that is worth pursuing is going to require us to suffer, just a little bit� -chris burkard
photographs by: chad ripley instagram: chad_ripley
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main street remembers:
the life of aulbani beauregard
This edition is dedicated to the life of Aulbani Beauregard. In her short time as a UNH student, Aulbani embodied what it means to be a Wildcat. Her presence will be missed by our community.
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staff picks
Chad Ripley Robert Robertson. “If I won’t cut my hair for my mother, what makes you think I’ll cut it for you?” The man with the same first and last name spends his six-week winter breaks on vacation mode in the Virgin Islands and comes back and teaches a class titled “Pirates in The Caribbean.” If that doesn’t scream “most interesting professor,” then him wearing Birkenstocks, a pair of khaki shorts, a white Billabong long sleeve and a sport coat to class is enough in itself to solidify his case. On a more serious note, he’s a really insightful dude and has taught me more about life and what’s truly important than any other professor on this campus.
Professors: our AllTime Greatest Hits
Jamie Ammon
David Cataneo. “Devices off, laptops closed, minds open.” What a killer one-liner--that’s how this dude starts every class. If he says, “Good job, you win the doughnut.” I’ll be damned if he doesn’t bring you a doughnut the very next day. He’s got a trophy for the top scorer of the weekly quiz. He’s got a million war stories about newsrooms in the 80s. I could go on for a page and a half about this dude, and that page and a half would have to be printed because he DOES NOT do the internet.
With two votes, the Winner:
PS - Yes, that’s how you spell ‘donut’ according to AP style, which he drills into our brains every week.
Caleb Jagoda Mekeel McBride. Whether she’s walking her class through a guided meditation or including in her syllabus a clause that allows students to skip class to have a beer with a friend IF, and only if, they write a poem and draw a picture detailing the experience, Mekeel is one of the most interesting, most entertaining and allaround best professors on campus. Take a creative writing class with her if only to hear her use phrases like “the mind’s eye.”
Zach Lewis I transferred to UNH last semester, so even though this is my junior year (and I’m now technically a senior) I’ve only had a handful of professors here at the University of New Hampshire. With that said, I’m going to choose my Russian language professor Ekaterina Burvikova, who everyone calls Katya. She’s from Moscow. I’m picking her because I’m completely fascinated learning a language that uses an entirely different alphabet from our own. There’s a Russian tea hour that she runs where other students in the discipline come to speak in the language and experience cuisine from Russia. Katya’s an incredibly nice, fair and intelligent professor. I don’t believe I’d be able to learn such a difficult language from another person. She has a real gift for her craft. This is my second semester on campus and my second class with Katya. I don’t entirely know why I picked Russian to cover my foreign language requirement, but having Katya as a professor never makes me regret that decision.
Julia Scorese Mekeel McBride. Easily going to have to second Caleb on that one. Mekeel is my freaking spirit animal. Her abstract, yet simple life philosophies make it a whole lot easier to live as one of her students - not in the sense that all poetry is considered “good poetry,” simply because I’ve never met someone who has inspired me to write more, draw more, meditate more and dream more. Literally. That’s what we do in class. Call this kindergarten, but it may have been the most beneficial material I’ve learned in college so far. — 39 —