Central Connecticut State University
NTER MAGAZI F-CE NE F O
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April/May 2012
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EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Jen Glifort ASSISTANT EDITORS Larry Clark Michael McClellan LAYOUT/PRE-PRESS Kasey Gordon COVER DESIGN Kasey Gordon
Have a different opinion? Want to contribute? Write to Off-Center Magazine at offcentermagazine@yahoo.com or find us on facebook
EXECUTIVE BOARD PRESIDENT Jen Glifort VICE PRESIDENT Michael McClellan TREASURER Alex Prague SECRETARY Jessica Dean Views expressed are not necessarily the views supported by Off-Center Magazine or CCSU.
I chose this picture not only because it conjures up memories from the magazine’s Seattle trip this semester, but because I think it shows just how seriously this magazine takes things like the cold, hard rules of journalism. And by that I mean that we don’t. That’s just not what we’re here for. We’re not a newspaper. The purpose of this magazine is to give people a voice. You don’t need to be a journalist. You don’t need to be a writer. You just need to have a voice—and I know you all do. Quit clutching your pearls in horror, Nanna. I’m not telling you to go off and misquote people, write a story about them without asking for comment, et cetera. I’m just saying that if you do need to go off on a rant, or tell a story that doesn’t necessarily have a deep, underlying meaning and connect to people on a universal level and relate to the President and sports and have a scientific background and and and— then you can do it here. This is the non-fiction/OPINION magazine and we’re proud of it. All of those statistics and rules are great but if you just want to say something to the rest of this campus without turning it into a homework assignment then we think that’s fantastic. This is college, people! I’ve been reliably informed by scores of movies and TV shows that this is supposed to be the best time of our lives. This is when we’re supposed to be skeptical, yet hopeful. We’ve all just come to the realization that life is absurdly harsh and feel pretty pissed off about it. Maybe some of you have the ability to set up private sessions with your local congressman, but I don’t. I go to rallies. I talk about it. I write. If I can get the word out then maybe something will change, or we’ll at least start a dialogue. I could ramble on and on about why this magazine exists but I think you can figure that out just by reading it. There are a lot of people on this campus and they all have something to say— whether it’s serious, hilarious, emotional, philosophical—we want it. Just look at our table of contents. We wanted a debate about pickles and we made it happen, absurd as it may be. One member wrote a couple of Squirrel Stories a year ago and it’s picked up and continued ever since. We even have a touching article about transferring that will remind you why you stay at CCSU. I’d like to thank (here comes the Oscar speech I’ve been practicing in the shower) everyone who has supported this magazine over the years—readers, writers, graphic designers, photographers, people who use it to line birdcages—thank you. You’re the reason that we’re still here. You’re the reason we stay up until five in the morning editing and laying out pages. You’re the reason we continue to put up the fight when the higher-ups don’t want us to
CCSU
3. Letter From the Editor 4. Overheard In New Britain 5. CCSU Says: Procrastination 6. Unofficial Club Profile: Couch Kids 7. Bittersweet Graduation Article 8. Transferring to CCSU 9. You Know You Go To CCSU When... 10. Queer Student Support: Resource or Burden?
General Interest 12. 13. 14. 15. 17. 18. 19.
Free-Flowing Hostility The Most Annoying Students You’re Guaranteed To Meet In College
Thirsty Thursday...And There’s Nothing To Do Seattle or Bust! Overworking Social Networking The Great Pickle Debate! Squirrel Stories!
Entertainment 20. More Indie Film Reviews 21. Games Page! 22. Texts From Last Night
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS IN THIS ISSUE: Larry Clark, Melissa Cordner, Jess Dean, Clement Eneh, Jen Glifort, Michael McClellan, Ashley St. Pierre
PHOTO: Jess Dean
OFF-CENTER STAFF
CONTENTS
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR say something. Every time I see someone reading the magazine, or get an e-mail from an interested writer, or someone in the line for coffee stops me to say they liked an article, I know it’s all worth it. And then I text the entire magazine staff so they can also bask in the worth-it-ness. It’s been a tough year but I wouldn’t change it. We hope to make the magazine even better for you next year but we also need your voices to make that happen. E-mail us at offcentermagazine@yahoo.com if you have an article, want to come to meetings, or just want to give feedback. Go ahead. Put on your ill-fitting fedora and take out that floppy reporter’s notebook. We may not be the most serious publication but that’s how we like it, because we’re a little off-center. -Jen
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OVERHEARD IN NEW BRITAIN:
CCSU SAYS:
Strange Things Our Instructors Say...
We asked CCSU students,
“What do you do when you procrastinate?” You said: compiled by Jen Glifort If I was Superman I could shoplift and get away with it. There’s something just cynical about chopping people’s heads off.
He says, “Had we but world enough and time,” it would be fine for you to resist my sexual advances, but we don’t. If we had a millennia that would be fine, but we don’t, so let’s get busy. (Reading from his assignment sheet) And show how the passage analyzes it’s—oh my god, that’s the wrong “its.” That’s “it is!” I hate it when students do that; it’s so much worse when I do it. What do you guys even want to do today? Drink? Read faculty e-mails? Whenever there’s smiting going on you know things are serious. You’re more promiscuous than me if you’re getting shit burned off your dick! They’re wondering what they’re going to do. There’s no body to put flowers on because he drowned. The body’s out there, rolling in the deep—well that sounds like Adele, doesn’t it? No S&M in class…That’s after class. Band Director:You have two options for hitting the triangle. One is to hit it on the side adjacent to the open angle...that’s the right word, right? “Adjacent?” Adjacent...hypotenuse...using the sine to coagulate the-Student: I’M A MATH MAJOR - STOP! You’ve won, so to speak. We’re all Charlie Sheens! These guys are career fuck-ups. Oh, pardon my French. Do you think Einstein would go to a Superbowl party and chug beer and eat potato chips? Would he be satisfied sitting next to Joe Sixpack?
We have to cover the sexual acts that people do. I know, I know, I was thinking the same thing. I was just going to buy some hamsters for you all to observe.
Play Xbox.
Stare at walls (they win).
Talk to girls.
Shop online for things I’ll never buy.
Use the computer
Watch my cat. Wish I was a cat. Lay in the sun then be sad I’m not a cat.
Sleep.
This is the system. We have a set of laws and everyone gets a defense. We can’t just have a Dirtbag Clause that says these guys are dirtbags and don’t deserve a defense.
Dance naked. Sing naked. Clean naked. Just be naked, really.
Read non-school books.
Women don’t like when the men in their lives treat them differently. We don’t want to go from “Daddy’s Special Princess” to “Get out of the way, Slut-Whore!”
Have sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Try to learn a new, essential skill, like juggling, rolling a coin on my knuckles, meditating, walking silently. Pretty much anything on Wikihow…
Watch the NFL Network.
Twitter.
Shady people will fuck you up.
Creep on Facebook.
Masturbate.
I don’t know what to say about birth control, none of you care. You’re all going to have babies anyways.
Scribble in my notebook.
Befriend campus custodians.
Try to swallow my tongue.
Fight with Angry Birds.
Go to the club fair.
Watch my guinea pigs run around.
Feed my fish a lot.
Drink!
Do other homework.
Go through my e-mails.
Tumblr (first rule broken). Facebook.
Stare into space (hoping someone will be there).
Talk to my girlfriend.
procrastinator.com (Yes, it does exist)
Get sucked into the TV for hours. America’s Next Top Model marathons are black holes.
People-watch.
Women don’t like when male sex partners nurse on their breasts. Do you all see why that’s really fucking creepy?
Do club work.
Professor: Prostitutes are whores because they sell their bodies. Entertainers are whores for the same reason. Student: Are you calling Stephen Colbert a whore? Professor: Stephen Colbert is a whore! He’s smart enough to know it, too. People should get pissed off reading the newspaper. Slap the reader upside the head! Well, I’ve been giving examples of werewolves and zombies in recent semesters, so I’ll give you guys a bunny rabbit. “The bunny rabbit was ravenous; she ate hot brains.” The fascism in Spain stays mainly on the plain.
PHOTO: Kasey Gordon
I answer the question, “Why’d you give me an F?” with “Because I couldn’t give you a G.”
compiled by Larry Clark and Jen Glifort
Professor: What is the author telling us by (etc…etc…). Yes, Amy. Amy: Sorry, what was the question? Professor: …I don’t know. Oops.
PHOTO: Chalkboard: Piotr Lewandowski
We get better parking than you guys because you’re in for four to five and we’re in for twenty-five to life.
Change.
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L A I C I F UNOF
CLUB PROFILE: THE COUCH PEOPLE
Bittersweet GRADUATION Article by Michael McClellan
ILLUSTRATION: Kasey Gordon
I’m a couchie, as some people call us: couch potatoes, couch people, couch mafia... There are a lot of names for us. A lot of people think that we have some sort of secret club going on; we don’t. We are just a whole bunch of friends who do stuff together, you know, like normal people do with their friends. Within the couches there are even smaller groups of close friends who form groups among themselves. If you look at any particular cluster of couches you may have found a micro-group. The couches on the ends tend to have their own groups and the couches in the middle are like one giant group. Some people switch between groups and some people don’t. We have tensions between certain people who aren’t fond of each other, just like in every other large group of people. Couch people seem to have a bad name for being weird and obnoxious. We are weird, most people are, and we just aren’t afraid of what others think of us and do what we love in spite of adversity. We are also obnoxious, some more than others, but at any given point if someone is being particularly loud or obnoxious, you can guarantee that you will find other people within our group trying to quiet them down who are just as annoyed as you. If you ask nicely most of the people at the couches will quiet down. We are not horrible scary monsters and will not attack you. So what are we about? A lot of the people who tend to hang out at the middle couches share a common interest in the card game Magic: The Gathering. I’ll admit that at first I thought it was really weird for college kids to play card games which I assumed were designed for middle-schoolers. But once I got to know them and tried to play a few times I learned just how complicated of a game Magic really is. There’s a lot of strategy and creativity. Some people would fault us for playing with “toys.” To anyone who plays video games, please tell me what your game system is if not a toy? You won’t convince me. There are few similarities that are as popular as Magic among our groups. We have many smaller interests that some people
share and others do not. Many of the people from the couches closest to the door belong to the Asian Pop Culture Club, which I personally have no interest in, but many of them love. I asked one of the members what they do, and was told that most of the time it is just a social club where people who have a common interest in things like anime go to watch videos and discuss them. There is another club called the Japanese-American Culture Club which, until today, I thought was the same club, but have been vehemently informed is not even associated. The JapaneseAmerican Culture Club is actually focused on culture. They talk about the Japanese language and discuss Japanese news articles; they also have presentations about different aspects of the culture, such as food and mythology. They end with documentaries or other videos that go with their discussion and hanging out afterwards until the end of the meeting. I was informed by the club’s president that most of the club is not even made up of people from the couches even though for some reason the groups are strongly associated. Another common interest that spans many of the couches is video games. Many of us play League of Legends and Skyrim. Contrary to common belief, couch people do not actually live on the couches, in the time that I spend with my not-couchbound friends, I often see other people playing both of these games. In fact, if you walk down the hall in any of the dorms, especially on a boys’ floor, you will probably see or hear any number of people playing video games. There are many more shared interests among us than I have mentioned in this article. More than anything though we are just a group of friends who happen to hang out on the couches. We do our schoolwork, play games, and just chill. Most people don’t take the time to get to know us. That’s fine; just use the rule that every kindergartener knows: if you don’t have anything nice to say about us, don’t say anything at all.
PHOTO: http://en.wikipedia.org
by Jess Dean
This is the end. After four years of classes, four years of writing for Off-Center, my time at Central Connecticut State University is coming to a close. I’ve fulfilled all the requirements for my major, and this semester I’m simply finishing off my two minors, and writing my thesis. With any luck, I’ll be graduating in May. To me, this is simply bizarre. For almost my entire life (barring the period spent in diapers) I have been going to school. The idea of doing something else is… foreign. With any luck, I’ll be accepted into a graduate school, and be able to fend off the real world for a few years more, but my impending graduation still gives me pause. What will I do with myself? Was all this schooling really worth it? Am I really prepared to face bills and taxes and housecleaning and bosses and grocery shopping and all the rest of this nonsense? Part of me is looking forward to complete independence. I’ll be able to do what I like, whenever I like, without parents peering over my shoulder or a roommate idly playing a computer game in my bedroom when I want some “alone time,” or at least a different kind of company. To have my own house or apartment will be blissful, though I can’t guarantee I won’t burn the place down within the first few days. That much I’m ready for. But what about responsibility? Am I really ready for a job? Well, hopefully I’ll be entering a job I enjoy, relevant to my major (Physics) – either doing fun research, or teaching other sheltered individuals like myself the math behind the inner workings of the universe. I refuse to live in a cubicle, I refuse to do manual labor, I refuse to say “would you like fries with that?”. But my refusal might not matter much when I’m unable to pay the rent. Will I be able to succeed on my own? I guess the only way to know is to find out. I will miss having little responsibility beyond the odd homework assignment. I will miss having a janitor clean my bathroom every day. I’ll miss having every meal cooked for me, though I perhaps won’t miss the actual food that Sodexo would serve me. I’ll miss going to class and idly staring past a lecturing professor. I’ll miss my Editor-in-Chief futilely reminding all of us about the deadline for magazine submissions. But life moves on. No matter what I miss, or fear, or look forward to, things will change. I will not be able to live in a dorm anymore. I will not be able to sit in on classes; well, I will, but that certainly wouldn’t be a very practical use of my time. I will have to find some way to make money, whether that be at a conventional job, or making silly YouTube videos, or whoring
myself on the street, or winning the lottery, I’ll need to think of something. Whatever it is, I hope Central Connecticut State University has prepared me in some way. If not, I’ll be coming back here to write an angry editorial. And this time, I’ll offend EVERYBODY. Cheers, all. Try to move on with your lives without me.
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You know you go to CENTRAL when… There’s a billboard advertising beer on our “dry” campus. Paying $1.75 for a soda is easier than trying to find a water fountain.
The academic elevators either sound like rocket ships or like they’re being pulled by a small army of reluctant elves. Anyone who can graduate in 4 years is regarded as a superhero with special graduating powers.
You left without graduating. Your club doesn’t get a budget.
The cops travel by Segway (when they aren’t driving their cars on the sidewalk).
Nothing is organized. Your daily exercise involves dodging cop cars on the sidewalk. The always-cited Student Code of Conduct is nowhere to be found.
On the bright side… You get a real-world education. There’s a lot of diversity on campus and everyone is welcome.
Campus loses power after getting it back.
You’re allowed to voice your opinions.
Money is spent on things that are unnecessary.
Naked blue men with horns don’t freak you out anymore.
You don’t actually go to Central, but spend your time in a paralyzed sense of rage over it, on behalf of your friends.
If you’ve been wronged, at least a quarter of the campus will come to a rally to support you after hearing about the incident less than 24 hours before.
You’re about to graduate but didn’t learn anything you feel will help get you a “real” job. The students know more than most of the administrators. You pay nearly as much on textbooks as you did on tuition. There is at least one scandal involving a professor per semester. PHOTO: Kasey Gordon
When I finished high school, I left with a sentiment that I believe I share with just about everyone who comes from a small town; I wanted to get as far away from home as possible, as fast as possible. I had an almost desperate conviction to go out and make something of myself, and my immediate thought was, what better place to do that than New York City? Images of Times Square’s flashing lights under a fading sunset captivated me. It was like a hunger. I had to get out there. For some it’s the lure of music, or of medicine. For me, it was the need to tell a story. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted words that meant something. For any artistic mind, New York City is possibility itself. In such a small area concentrated with so many people, there was undoubtedly a story to tell. There were millions. It was this idea that led me to a small, white-walled room in Purchase, New York in late August of 2011. I had applied to Manhattanville College in Purchase, New York on a whim, because I had an old friend who attended the year before and absolutely swore by it. It was an expensive private school, but only 25 minutes from the city, and educationally renowned. A few months after applying, I received an acceptance letter paired with an enormous scholarship. I called my mother, nearly in tears from excitement. The scholarship made me feel wanted. This private school, so perfect in its location, wanted me so badly that they were willing to give me money to go there. I accepted in a heartbeat, and long story short, joined the Manhattanville College Class of 2013. After I arrived, things began to go downhill. College life was not what I expected. My roommate and I, though courteous to each other, had almost nothing in common. In classes, when I tried to talk to people, they often forced a smile and made a point of avoiding me in the future. I was desperate. I couldn’t make friends. I couldn’t make myself do anything. I spent days lying in bed staring out the window at a bus stop with an enormous advertisement for the Muppets movie plastered to the side, seemingly staring into my room. I never even went to the city; the transportation back and forth was questionable and confusing. The food made everyone sick, and the school was disgusting. People literally peed in the hallways. A startling array of unmentionable surprises was found on the floors of the girl’s showers. People slipped used condoms onto door handles so you would be forced to touch them to get back to your room. And on top of everything, I was alone. Very quickly, I became homesick. I became more than homesick. I needed to go home. I don’t think I ever would have survived four years at Manhattanville. Soon into my first semester, I decided that I needed to transfer, and with the support of my friends and family,
registered to attend CCSU, starting my second semester of my freshman year. The actual act of transferring is probably the most frustrating thing I have ever done. Manhattanville put an accidental hold on my account, and didn’t send my transcript to CCSU until the very last minute. I therefore didn’t get my credits transferred in time, and had to take the slim pickings of the very last classes that hadn’t been filled yet, all as if I had no history of college credits. I had been in New York when I did the paperwork, and had to conduct my meeting with my CCSU academic counselor over the phone. I had close to no guidance in registration (which wasn’t Central’s fault), and learning the new system while having trouble even finding open classes was incredibly difficult. Regardless, I showed up on move-in day, and became an official part of the community. The first days were terrifying. My first class was in Copernicus, so naturally I got lost and was almost late, and spent the rest of the day haphazardly bumbling around campus and praying the other buildings would be less confusing. I found myself completely baffled by the blue chip sensors on the residence hall doors, and embarrassingly excited when I figured out how they actually worked. Overall, my biggest worry was the people. If I didn’t get along with the people here, then it had to be me. I couldn’t blame the culture of Manhattanville anymore. I would have to blame myself. There had to be something wrong with me. I was relieved to discover that this wasn’t the case. The community of CCSU is something I caught on to fast, and instantly fell in love with. There are no expectations of how a person should be. People give each other a chance. It seems everyone is willing to talk to you. Everyone wants to know your story, wants to get to know who you are. I was delighted. I still am delighted. Every day, I wake up and get out of bed knowing that I’m not alone, and that is because of the community this school has created for itself. As a transfer student, I believe I was given more of an opportunity to notice how this place is. I have a basis for comparison. CCSU is a place I can honestly say I am proud of be a part of. The idea that private schools are superior to state schools is, as I see it, completely wrong. Having been to both, I can honestly say that, not only is CCSU cleaner (no pee in the hallways that I’ve had to deal with), it is a place where it is much easier to feel accepted. There is a sense of togetherness that I really do think is something special. It is helping me realize that the small town I wanted to get away from, the stereotype of monotony that comes with a place like Connecticut, is wrong. You don’t need a city to make something of yourself, and you don’t need a private school. You need a place where you can feel loved, and to me, that is what CCSU is.
PHOTO: www.en.wikipedia.org, www.ccsu.edu
by Ashley St. Pierre
to
Every field trip is to some sketchy place in New Britain. The classrooms are falling apart.
Professors are better resources on campus than the actual intended resources are. If you know who to ask, you can actually accomplish something that you’ve always wanted to do. You are disappointed at restaurants where you can’t order a Labretti. The Student Center custodians are really nice, hard-working people.
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STUDENT SUPPORT: Resource or Burden?
A once-stable eboard cycled through members like a drag queen through outfits.
The whole being-the-only-resource-oncampus thing wouldn’t have been so bad if we weren’t desperate for resources ourselves.
It took no time at all for Pride’s regular membership to drop from pushing sixty to under ten. A once-stable eboard cycled through members like a drag queen through outfits. Several events that usually draw a crowd of a hundred or more were either canceled or slapped together and ill-attended by even club members; the annual retreat, a tradition that’s been around longer than I have, did not occur. This is not to say that Pride is at fault—indeed, given the circumstances, I am incredibly proud of what they have done individually and together without the support I relied on to do the same things.
Within four years, Central began an LGBT student support group and a gender neutral housing program. Staff changes and gender-neutral bathrooms became reality. A Lavender Graduation ceremony acknowledged our work publicly. I couldn’t tell you what shocked me more when Judy Shepard came to campus; that I momentarily shared a stage with her, or that we took pictures with her outside our very own brand-new LGBT Center. Problem solved, right? The class of 2011 left behind two witnesses to this era; one original One in Ten member and the newest, least experienced eboard member. Additional graduates included the intern Pride had come to depend on for two years instead of the traditional one, and the token queer (and therefore empathy and a potential role model) from the SA/LD office, who promptly left for a better job without so much as a goodbye for many of us. The Center’s University Assistant gave her resignation notice in March and left that summer; Pride’s faculty advisor was temporarily unavailable for personal reasons. New resources were about as shaky as established supporters. Gender-neutral housing has reopened, but the program was temporarily removed when freshmen did not sign up for the intentionally unadvertised option (need had to be proven, you see). The Center is open and staffed with someone whose
ILLUSTRATIONS: Kasey Gordon
It irks me when people who didn’t spend five years improving campus climate for queer students say that CCSU is a queer-friendly school. Not because they didn’t do the work or they don’t give the proper credit—because they’re wrong. Sure, Central looks good on paper, but in practice, many of the resources supposedly available to queer students don’t exist or frankly suck. In fact, having resources that are actually useless is in many respects more frustrating and problematic than having no resources at all. Central was a different place five years ago. The gay-straight alliance was small, but the pressures on it were high. With the exception of a couple professors (who don’t get paid for the mentoring they do), ‘resources’ were infinitely more likely to ask for help than offer it. We were frequently asked for assistance— in the form of money, volunteer time, information, promotion and endorsement, or a speech—by people we’d never even heard of before; the requests only grew as the club did. Having Pride’s name on an event made it appear more necessary while providing a convenient scapegoat if it fell short. As Pride created more of its own action days and events, it also took on more side projects; we hosted everything from mandatory ResLife programs to QPR trainings. The whole being-the-only-resource-on-campus thing wouldn’t have been so bad if we weren’t desperate for resources ourselves. While everyone and their mother seemed to want Pride’s help, nobody wanted to know how to ACTUALLY make their office, program or campus genuinely BETTER for queer students. I heard about and experienced homophobic teachers, administrators, police officers, and counselors. One Pride leader sought professional help from the Counseling Center only to be told to contact Pride for that help; another reported a death threat from a homophobic roommate to Residence Life and was told to ‘deal with it.’ These are only examples, and—here’s the scary part— only from those that both joined the Pride club and were brave enough to share.
Students formed the One in Ten Committee to fight this culture. We researched laws, past and current events, and statistics; we held forums, visited other schools’ LGBT centers, and raised awareness both on and off campus. With professor support, we wrote proposals and met with representatives from Student Activities, Residence Life, Facilities Management, Health Services, Counseling Services, the Campus Police, and other offices to talk about improvement.
ILLUSTRATIONS: Kasey Gordon
by Melissa Cordner
praises are sung by some Pride members, but this new University Assistant was not hired until January—almost an entire year after the last person in this position announced her resignation. Fall 2011 found Pride without not only the leadership that had literally reinvented the club and campus, but also virtually all of the support that had enabled that leadership to succeed.
That is a stretch of bad luck, you might say, but certainly there’s not much to be done about it. After all, student leaders can’t be expected to keep leading after graduation, and support is only a volunteer task for faculty and staff members. This is true of all the support systems that were suddenly missing this year, but it is not entirely accurate overall. You see, some people get PAID to address things like a decapitated eboard or the loss of traditional support systems. So where has this fulltime support system, which gets paid to be accessible and attentive, been lately? Where indeed. In a year, no one has approached Pride—except, of course, to ask for help. Pride was asked to promote a movie showing intended to correspond to the Transgender Day of Remembrance, a somber event honoring transgender hate crimes victims. No administration representative attended Pride’s TDOR event, but some did criticize the club’s conspicuous absence at the movie showing—which, oddly, took place during the club’s last planning
meeting before the event that they had actually intended to hold. Pride’s name on the poster legitimized the event; their absence provided a scapegoat when it was poorly attended. Sound familiar? Recently, I received an email advertising Central’s first GayStraight Alliance Day, a recruitment event featuring a segment hosted entirely by Pride. My first impulse was to text three or four club members; the only one who knew about this event was volunteering independently of the club. Everyone else was aggravated to hear that yet another to-do had been added to the club’s list without the consent or even knowledge of their eboard. Aggravated, but not surprised. This event was actually canceled, but had it occurred, Pride would have been unable to assist much; only three meetings separated this email from the event, and all three were canceled for other events. This would have resulted in yet another impression that Pride is unreliable, when in fact the problem lies in the poor planning of yet another office or person that is, perhaps unintentionally, willing to inflict a small amount of harm on a small amount of queer students in order to look accessible to queer students at large.
Ultimately, the rally was little more than a convenient way to focus on STUDENT prejudice while ignoring the homophobia, or perhaps apathy, intrinsic in Central’s backbone. There are some that will challenge all this negativity, pointing perhaps to the Educate Over Hate rally that took place before spring break as evidence that administration does, in fact, care. To these, I say simply—think about it. Think about how undeniably strong administration’s reaction was to this one incident that these two individuals experienced over a short period of time and compare that to all the other stories you’ve heard, multiplied by those you haven’t. Think about what kind of reaction, if any, would have occurred if these two individuals hadn’t happened to have staff members that were familiar with this brand of discrimination. Think about what, if anything, a rally speaking out against this incident actually did for these individuals, or the other queer students on campus who haven’t spoken up
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free-flowing Y T I L I T S O H My ass is chained to my desk chair, my hands are shackled to this dinosaur of a computer, and my eyes—when they are not streaming tears—are glued to this giant glaring screen of unhappiness while I scramble, unsuccessfully, to make sense of my sad little life. Finals? Nope—even more depressing and debilitating—job searching!! I have a college degree (with honors) and tons of leadership and volunteer experience. I also have a shit ton of student debt that has burrowed into my soul and curled its fist around my shaking heart. I work three shitty part time jobs. I need a real job, but I am “overqualified” for every retail, food service, and secretarial position I apply to. IF I get a response, people say they can’t afford someone with my qualifications— even though I BEG them to just take me, pay me shit, GIVE ME A CHANCE TO SHOW YOU HOW MUNDANE I AM DESPITE MY COLLEGE DEGREE IT’S FROM A STATE SCHOOL ANYWAY. One person said he’d “make an exception” if I could prove I had dependents—cats didn’t count. No proof of hardship? No job for you. I should claw out of this quaint little purgatory called part time work; I’ll take even a CRAP fulltime job. Cue cover-letterwriting, resume-spit-shining frenzies. Cue whining at professors for references. Cue begging the entire state to hire me to do ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING that an English degree qualifies me for—which is simultaneously an awful lot and very little. No one will hire me. I have great communication skills, a good interview presence—I have potential, or so I’m told. The problem? I HAVE NO QUALIFICATIONS. I’m not old enough (legal). I moved jobs too much (THREE stores have gone out of business while I have worked for them). They tell me I should finish grad school and come back. I should get two years’ experience and come back. I should solve world hunger and eradicate sexual violence from the world and come back, and maybe get 20 hours a week. I’m so done. I’m twenty fucking three, I should be brimming with ideas and hope and options, the world should fucking belong to me. Instead, I’m ready to sell my car and stake out a nice ditch. The QUALIFIED people, whoever the fuck they are, will continue to ignore me, but maybe I can train my cat to steal their wallets.
ANNOYING STUDENTS
You’re Guaranteed to Meet in College by Jen Glifort We’ve all had them. These are the classmates who have been rejected from hell itself and sent on the Brimstone Express directly to the seat next to you. They rarely if ever miss class, and force you to consider whether or not you can suffer through it. They’re bad for morale, your GPA, and probably your general outlook on life.
The One Who Wants To Be The Professor’s Best Friend (And The Feeling Isn’t Mutual): This is a classic starry-eyed teacher-worshipper. Leaning forward in his seat, this specimen drinks in every gilded word and poetic turn of phrase that pours forth from the lecturer’s willing lips. This student is at the ready with bouts of boisterous laughter and any number of unnecessary, irrelevant, class-interrupting comments and questions. The only benefit of sharing a class with this guy is the unspoken bond you form with your other classmates, when you link rolling eyes as he opens his eager mouth to speak. It’s also pretty entertaining to watch the professor try to avoid eye contact by dancing around the room and writing disconnected words on the board.
The One Who Wants To Be Everyone’s Best Friend: Here we have the opposite of Number One. This guy is the students’ champion—pulling for extensions left and right, cracking jokes, bringing all the attention to himself during class. I’m not saying a distraction in class isn’t welcome, but we really don’t need to hear about your experiences as a youth boxing champion or whatever for the fortieth time. We get it. You think you’re awesome. Now shut up so we have half a shot at getting out early, champ.
The Attitude: This girl (sorry, ladies, but we’re the majority in
PHOTO: www.quickmeme.com
Disclaimer: This is an opinion article based on the experiences of someone who spent a very long time working to improve Central’s campus climate for queer students. Have a different opinion? Have positive experiences to share? Send your take to us at Offcentermagazine@yahoo.com
The Most
PHOTOS: yourstrulyg.files.wordpress.com, Charlie Balch
about their experiences, in the long term. Certainly Central displayed its intolerance for senseless bigoted behavior from its students—but what about from its staff and faculty? Has campus climate been analyzed? Have any resources been assessed? Have any new programs been introduced? Have any offices or administrators approached the queer student body—which is sizable on this campus—to ask what can be done to improve things? Ultimately, the rally was little more than a convenient way to focus on STUDENT prejudice while ignoring the homophobia, or perhaps apathy, intrinsic in Central’s backbone. It let administration look compassionate without risking backlash from any office on campus. It called attention to a fixable, guilt-free occurrence and away from a much larger problem that can cause far more damage over time than an isolated incident of student stupidity. Speeches won’t make changes at the levels that are going to make a lasting difference. To do that, someone would actually have to sit down and talk to whole groups of students—and God forbid THAT happen more than once every twenty years. This is not an attack on any office or person, especially the LGBT Center, the part-time person who runs it (who I hear is fantastic), or the interns, who do great work despite being overworked, underpaid, and virtually untrained for the things they’re expected to shelter the paid professionals from. This is a criticism of would-be resources expecting students to do their dirty work for them. Mostly, this is a critique of a system that puts underserved populations to work educating the comfortable majority about their existences, thus making it even harder for those very populations to succeed. It is, in part, the lament of someone who could’ve built something lasting if I wasn’t so damn busy patching the holes in an already-sinking boat. Most of all, it is a question: when are things going to change?
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this category) saunters in ten minutes late to class, after spending that ten minutes just outside the open door shouting into her cell phone. She interrupts the professor and asks questions that she would know the answer to if she hadn’t been fiddling around on her phone (which has the sound on, by the way, just in case we all didn’t realize just how many texts demand her attention on a minute-by-minute basis). If she doesn’t understand a concept, no one can move on, let alone get any peace. Between all the whining and the drawn-out tongue clicks of annoyance I don’t know how she finds the time to match her shoes with her purse with her eyes with her bedazzled phone and/or vagina. Please, do everyone a favor and sashay away.
The Cheater: “Hey, buddy! Can I see your notes? Did you do the homework? Hey. Hey. Hey. Hi! What’s the answer to number three? I don’t get it. Doesn’t this class suck? I like your shirt. Hello? Hey. Heyyyyyyy…What? Where are you going?!”
The Obvious Texters: At least be a little creative with your prohibited phone usage! As much as we’d all love to text and Tweet away the most boring classes, no one likes to see a chick glued to her iPhone in the front row. I’ve seen so many people scrolling through their Facebook newsfeed using their smartphone in plain sight on the desk in front of them. Really? I have yet to see a syllabus without the obligatory “OMFG I will steal your phone if you use it in my face because my class is your top priority” clause. Even if the professor doesn’t call them out on it, these cell junkies should show an effort at being covert. A stack of books to hide behind, or a brick house of a football player, anything. The Noise-Makers: This subject is truly an example of
human suffering. Either he never got his call-back for that pencildrumming gig (which he clearly deserved; I mean, listen to him!) or he’s so terrified at the thought that his pen will stop clicking someday that he needs to make the most of the time they have together. Click click. Tap thump. Cue the undercover drummer’s solo. Tickitta tickitta thwack thwack thwack. Foot stomp for bass, back to the desk for a few more tickittas, and then—what brilliance!—to the metal chair leg for cymbal! We’re all just lucky to be in the presence of such a musical treat.
The Farter: I hope for your sake, readers, that you have yet
to endure this horror of horrors. This guy is only to be found in the most cramped classes, with little to no air circulation (ie, DiLoreto). He sits in front of you, naturally, and you’re forced to spend the duration of class praying to the flatulence gods that those thunderous stomach rumbles don’t churn and convert into the tell-tale “thurp-flurp-thptithip” of trapped gas hitting a plastic seat. What, what, what did this dude eat for lunch? EVERY DAY?
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THIRSTY THURSDAY
Thursday night, you’re with your friends thinking, “Hrmm, what should we do tonight?” The normal thought would be “Party! Let’s party all over the place!,” but alas, that means going off campus to some skeevy apartment or house, hitting up Elmer’s, or not partying at all. You’re starting to realize after your (at least) four years here at CCSU that college was nothing like all the sitcoms told you it was going to be. No co-ed bathrooms, no random friendly strangers looking to be your next best friend, and certainly no parties in every dorm room possible, as Boy Meets World and Gilmore Girls would’ve led you to believe. But why aren’t there parties in every dorm? Why can’t we just leave our doors open and have huge floor-type parties, all out in the open? Well, we all know that drinking alcohol on campus isn’t allowed, but we also all know that it still happens anyways. Now of course I’m not saying we should throw caution to the wind and let anyone drink regardless of age. However, it seems unreasonable to say that even those who are 21 plus can’t have alcohol. This especially seems unfair when most of us in college turn 21 while we’re here. Furthermore this policy begins to seem ridiculous when people are staying here one or even two years later, putting the average student’s age at 22 or 23 before they graduate (a very real problem). Now you start looking at the high number of transfers (out), drop-outs, and those who aren’t graduating on time, versus those coming in and it seems to me that those who are 21 plus seem to make up a large portion of that number. Looking further at this, I begin to wonder, “What is this university doing to force these people out,” and if it can’t be changed, what can we do to entice them to stay? When you reflect on all these factors it almost seems as if a simple change would be to let those of age drink on campus. It wouldn’t be that difficult, and it definitely would not be hard to implement. In fact, it’s been done on other campuses (including other CSU schools), and here at CCSU in the past. It’s not that difficult to designate one building on campus as wet and only have those who are 21 there. Oh wait, in fact, it already happened. That building was James, there was also the time when the drinking age was 18 and all the dorm buildings were wet. Another option, would be to designate one portion of campus as wet, like up the hill or down the hill (though this is unlikely based on our numbers). There would be some downsides initially to this: increased partying, training RAs to deal with the exception or policy change. These changes would probably normalize once RAs became used to these methods and the residents realize that
they can’t just party their way through school without flunking out. The gains, on the other hand, would be: increased interest in campus living, a greater amount of upperclassmen staying at CCSU, and a more open campus environment when alcohol is discussed.
Seattle
OR
BUST
by Jess Dean
Do you agree? Disagree? Let us know! Write an article! OffCenterMagazine@yahoo.com
PHOTO: Ronald Meriales
by Larry Clark
PHOTO: Karol Wisznewski
...and There’s Nothing To Do
A few members of Off-Center Magazine headed to Seattle, Washington on February 29th, 2012. We went to attend a writing conference, improve our magazine, and do a little exploring. The first day was check-in and we had most of the day to ourselves to explore. We decided to head to the Space Needle to see Seattle’s most famous landmark. The Space Needle was created for the 1962 World’s Fair and turns 50 years old this April. The needle is over 500 feet tall and has an observation deck as well as a rotating restaurant for a full view of Seattle and Puget Sound while you eat. From the Space Needle you can see the Sci-fi and Music Museum as well as the Children’s Museum which is built into the science building from the World’s Fair. Our hotel was on the opposite end of Seattle from the Space Needle so we had a long walk, but along the way we saw many interesting stores; one of which was a glass-blowing shop. The owner explained to us how colored glass is manufactured and blown and there were many examples of final products to examine. That night back at the hotel we went through all of the programs for the conference and decided what workshops we wanted to attend. First thing Friday morning Jen and I attended a presentation on ethical journalism and E.R. Murrow who was a famous radio and television personality. Murrow did a lot of his reporting on WWII and he was shocked by what he saw. After being given a tour of a concentration camp, he did not report for three days. His following report was graphic but informative. Murrow emphasized getting the story right rather than getting it first. Murrow affected many people and programs in the news
business, some you would still recognize today: -Murrow’s camera man went on to create “60 Minutes”. -He created the “This I Believe” NPR radio programs and books.
-“Global Public Square” with Fareed Zakaria, Civil debates on PBS and select broadcasts on CBS, ABC, and others. -“Radio Lab” and “This American Life” The next presentation I attended was on how to take feature photographs. The first thing we discussed was what exactly is a feature photograph? A feature photograph tells a story, evokes a reaction, is universal, and timeless. The content of these pictures is often children, animals, or people in uniforms doing things you wouldn’t expect or that comment on the human condition. For instance a classic picture is nuns with guns or children mothering their pets. The instructor then informed us of ways to capture these out of the ordinary pictures by relying on more than chance. For example, find out when the local Renaissance Fair is and follow people home: a knight driving a minivan tells a story all its own. Ask if you can take pictures from unusual places, like the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. Always carry your camera with you. You never know when you will see an opportunity. After this presentation was a break for lunch. I used this conveniently timed break to grab a nap because jetlag is a painful thing. When I grudgingly got out of bed after my nap I went to a very interesting program called “Sex on Deadline”. The program addressed how to write about sexual topics in a college publication. The speaker told us how college media is the only media outlet that actively discusses sexual issues, and we are leading the way for other media to follow. The presenter told us what it was like being a sex columnist, including how boys
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Over-working
To delete or not to delete. That is the question!
sociaL networking
ILLUSTRATION: Kasey Gordon
by Clement Eneh
PHOTO: Christopher Disher
have asked to sleep with her, so she can write about them... she refused. We talked about how far is too far and the differences of having a female report on sex versus a male. Overall it gave us a lot of great ideas for what we could include the next time we come out with and issue or article concerning sex and love. Continuing with the same instructor we listened to a presentation on 100 ideas to write about that we hope to include in future magazines. The final presentation for the day was on freedom of speech. We discussed the history of freedom of speech and how it applies specifically to college and high school news outlets, discussing important court cases that defined the rules we use now. By the time the day was done we were all exhausted. We went and grabbed pizza at a fantastic little restaurant called MOD and then headed back to the hotel for some homework and sleep. Saturday morning we got out of bed and headed to our first presentation on freedom of information laws. The presentation talked about the laws compelling state agencies to provide you with certain information upon request and what to do if they won’t give it to you for a non-legitimate reason. We learned that freedom of information laws varies by state and that they have different rules for public versus private institutions. We also learned about F.E.R.P.A., the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act and how it protects certain information and also allows students access to their own records. After that we attended a lecture on stories your magazine/ newspaper might be missing. The lecturer started off having students talk about what article they were most proud of and why. Listening to other student’s articles gave a lot of real life examples of things to write about. He also stressed to us the important of ethics and the consequences of what you publish. After a quick lunch at a delicious taco restaurant we went to a lecture about presenting your information online. They went over using Google spreadsheets and Excel to make graphs and a few other ways if you know programming language. Saturday night we went to explore the docks and saw a very beautiful sunset over the mountains. On Sunday morning we said a bittersweet goodbye to Seattle, sad because there was so much more that we hadn’t had a chance to see and glad that we would soon be getting back to our own beds. I don’t know what I expected a writing conference to be like but it ended up being a wonderful learning experience, as well as time to bond with my fellow club members and explore a new city.
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The once-foreign concept of social networking has become, in this day and age, as common as breathing. When aren’t we checking our Facebook and Twitter accounts? Better question: how many conversations, breakups, arguments, or significant events in the last four years of your life have been connected to Facebook? Probably more than you can count on those carpeltunnel typing fingers of yours. At least, that was the case for me. After graduating high school, turning the tassel, and beginning the newest chapter of my life, I began the mentally draining and stressful process of deleting “friends.” I say “friends” rather than friends because there is a distinct difference between the two. Friends are people you’ve met at more than one social occasion, like, talk to, hang out with, etc. “Friends” however, have a wider meaning, and a more negative connotation. A “friend” is the guy or girl you met at that party that one time who made awkward conversation and requested you before you could pour your breakfast cereal the next day. A “friend” is a work colleague whose friendship you feel obligated to accept. A “friend” can also just be a cute stranger with whom you have mutual friends and whose status you “like” the minute after posting a new picture. However, in those cases one must tread softly so as to not be mistaken for a troll. To begin the deletion process I scrolled down my list, saw a couple unfamiliar faces, and removed them. The ones who were near strangers were easy, but I took more time on the ones who I only half knew. Situations like this you’ve got to rack your brain and think of every moment of the relationship you’ve had with this person, the quality of their posts, and how likely they are to attempt to add you back if and when you delete them. In the midst of this brainfuck a thought occurred. “Why not just delete Facebook?” It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried before. At most the deletion would last 10 days, then I’d get an urgent text from a friend begging for reactivation, or my phone would break and I’d be forced to use it or risk being out of the loop (assuming I’m even in one). But this time I promised myself I would . In fact, I swore before God, the Off-Center magazine staff, and a good number of friends that I could go a month without Facebook. I was ready, I was willing, and I was determined. Needless to say, I didn’t last four days.
The question is, why? In my case, I’m sure it was just lack of will power, but on a broader scale I have to wonder why no one else attempts to delete. Why can’t we go without Facebook? The fact is it’s just easier and more convenient than memorizing e-mail addresses and sending out hundreds of photos individually. With one click a thought can be shared to the world or read from miles away with no fuss. This makes Facebook and Twitter addicting. However, unlike most addictions, this one is perpetuated and encouraged through our culture. It’s simple, Facebook has become so heavily rooted in the way we live and work, it’s gotten to the point where every package and product we buy has a Facebook and we, like fools, do as they say and “like” the fanpage. Without Facebook and Twitter there are certain media jobs, like “trend checkers” we could never have, let alone know of. It isn’t just the hegemony of media and corporation though; we must accept our share of the blame in this internet-oriented world we live in. In the 1980’s a teenager might’ve used a landline to phone a friend and tell a joke; in 1996 they maybe e-mailed with a low-res “lol” emoticon. We live in a world where, now, that same friend can tell the same joke with over 200 people reading it, laughing, “liking,” and unfortunately sending his/her ego through the roof, as is often the case with “famous” bloggers. What is the solution to this madness? (I’m a firm believer that there’s a solution to everything) Don’t stop using Facebook. I know this is an odd solution, but actually an effective one. Cold turkey didn’t work for me and it probably won’t for you. Wean yourself off social networking little by little. Count the number of minutes you spend creeping on your ex’s page. Limit the angst-ridden or cheese-related statuses. Resist the urge to post a “Nyan Cat” remake video. When you’re on it for smaller periods of time you won’t feel the need to check as often. Facebook and Twitter are useful, but socialization online is a poor substitute for the real thing. Go outside! Get fresh air! Most of all, resist the urge to make a status saying, “Going outside to get fresh air.”
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SQUIRREL STORIES!
The Great Pickle Debate! (That’s right, reader. This exists.)
SOUR
Got a squirrel story you want to share? Send it to
OFFCENTERMAGAZINE@YAHOO.COM! Next month, we’ll be printing the collected stories of CCSU students!
Let’s face it, everyone has one...
A pickle’s original intention is to be sour. There are some things you just can’t change. We need a constant in this ever-changing world. I just like it when pickles are sour! The other one is gross. Sweet pickles are nasty and vinegar is delicious. They’re crunchy and salty and wonderful. Sweet pickles are the antithesis of everything a pickle should be. Pickles were made to be sour and vinegary and delicious. Sweet pickles are simply unnatural. Sweet pickles are nasty — I’ll take a New York Deli style pickle any day!
Upcoming debates: Macs versus PCs! Lemon in your water at the restaurant versus no lemon! What else do YOU want to see debated? Let us know! Write to us at OFFCENTERMAGAZINE@YAHOO.COM!
The point of a pickle is to PICKLE it. Make it taste…PICKLY!
FIGHT CLUB: A SQUIRREL STORY
SWEET
by Clement Eneh
These go better in burgers and sandwiches.
My grandma puts these out for holidays, so, here you go, Grandma! One sweet pickle vote on behalf of Grandma.
Other:
I hate pickles! Why do they ruin cucumbers? (Rebuttal: Cucumbers are just unborn pickles). Screw dill or sweet pickles. Just give me a good gherkin.
ILLUSTRATION: Kasey Gordon
They taste better—dill pickles are disgusting and taste like ass. Sweet pickles are divine. PHOTO: www.bighow.info, www.bloomingtonneeds.com
VS
It was early. The ass crack of dawn. I was headed to Diloreto Hall and decided to avoid the James entrance and take the stairway nearest to Beecher. Suddenly, I heard a rustling through the leaves. I figured it was wind at first but felt no chill. Then it hit me--squirrels. I’d heard the squirrels on campus were crazy but after a first semester of seemingly normal behavior, I figured the tales of their insanity were exaggerated. Still, I approached with caution as I inched closer to the two animals, gripping my math book, ready to swing just in case. I looked away for a couple seconds until the rustling returned, sounding much more violent this time. A squirrel with a white tail lunged at the other one. I could hear the thud as one fell on its back. They were fist-fighting in mid air. They bounced off one another violently. It was like an episode of Dragon Ball Z.
I quickly took steps back, still facing them, determined to keep a watchful eye on this epic battle. It seemed as though the white squirrel was going to win until, out of nowhere, another joined the fight. At that point there were three angry squirrels attacking each other in broad daylight. Not knowing whether to laugh or shriek I looked around in shock. Was no one here to witness this? I wondered. The thought was wiped from my mind and replaced with fear that I might be their next victim. I had played audience to the debauchery long enough. With an awkward haste I power hiked up the hill to the pathway next to Barrows, still hearing the distant sound of squealing, lucky to be alive.
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INDIE
The time has come again to review more independent movies! Because, you know, more come out every month or so. It’s a never-ending process. But first, I’d like to register two things harking back to my previous installment of this: 1) Take Shelter was robbed, garnering ZERO Oscar nominations, and I am pissy, and 2) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was disappointingly shitty, and I’m not even going to bother reviewing it.
The Iron Lady
While headed by a formidable performance by the omnipresent Meryl Streep, who recently took home an Oscar for this performance, with Jim Broadbent in a delightful supporting role, The Iron Lady nonetheless is not all that well put together. Attempting to span former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s entire adult life, it came off as a rather distant stringing together of her important life moments, from her rise in the Conservative party, to her election, to the war in the Falklands, and her slow, spiraling downfall. While interesting in its own way, it may as well have been a documentary. At times it almost could have been, given Ms. Streep’s commanding portrayal, ever convincing you that Ms. Thatcher herself were leering out at you. Despite the good acting, I’m afraid I have to give it two and a half out of five stars.
The Artist
Also nabbing some Oscars, including Best Picture, this black-andwhite silent film is a delightful international movie, with a French director and lead actor, as well as John Goodman and a memorable walk-on cameo from Malcolm McDowell. The premise is a silent film star being eclipsed by a flapper met in a chance encounter, who’s all too willing to perform in talkies. The almost textbook case of her rise and his fall is nonetheless beautiful, and the end will have you crying and cheering at the same time. It’s got laughs, it’s got tears, it’s got dance numbers, and it’s got a dog. A wonderful movie, fully deserving of its awards. Five out of five stars.
The Woman in Black
Off-Center Magazine Quiz!
Daniel Radcliffe’s first “major” production post-Potter, this creepy picture from Hammer Films (apparently well-known in Britain for its cheesy scary movies) invites the viewer back to Edwardian England, where Mr. Radcliffe’s widowed young lawyer finds himself on a train to an eerie village in the country in order to make ends meet for himself and his young son. His task is to go over the papers of some batty old lady (you can’t expect me to remember all their names) who recently died, and for some reason hid all her papers in her spooky house (I think I’ve run out of synonyms for “creepy”). It turns out the house literally is haunted, and the locals get pissy at Mr. Radcliffe for coming around. While an interesting story, and undeniably capable of making you jump in your seat, the camerawork to make it scary is almost tackily obvious, and the ghost at times seems rather impotent. A decent ride, but don’t expect to go to bed with nightmares. Three out of five stars.
Aka, an exercise in flipping pages!
1) What does OCM stand for? 2) Who is the EIC (editor in chief) of Off-Center Magazine? 3) Which editor is graduating this semester? 4) Name two of the four regular features Off-Center Magazine has. 5) What’s the name of the editor-in-chief’s cat? 6) What was the theme of the last issue of the Fall 2011 semester? 7) Name the other three Media Board clubs. 8) When and where are Off-Center’s regular meetings?
My previous encounters with Studio Ghibli have been hit or miss – I adored Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle, but Ponyo was rather stupid, and Princess Mononoke was a bit too ambiguous for my tastes. Nevertheless, I walked into The Secret World
PHOTO: Linnell Esler
Secret World of Arrietty
IMAGES: Kasey Gordon, Jen Glifort, Jess Dean, WFCS
by Michael McClellan
of Arrietty with high expectations. The film follows a family of six-inch-tall people who live in an old woman’s house, taking essentials that their host will never miss. This seemingly perfect life starts to unravel when the old woman is visited by her sickly young nephew, who starts to get inquisitive about the little pixies stealing his Kleenex. It was certainly visually stunning, and the music was quite pretty, but it was too simplistic for my tastes – there was no true tension, and possible moments could have been tied together. But they were squandered. However, realizing I was probably not the intended demographic, I can certainly appreciate that it did what it was trying to do, and its charm and whimsy will, I can only imagine, delight younger viewers. Though I probably would never watch it again, I’ll give it four out of five stars.
Answers: 1) Off-Center Magazine 2) Jen Glifort 3) Michael McClellan 4) Overheard in New Britain (Teacher Quotes), CCSU Says, Text From Last Night, Games Page 5) Fatts 6) Animals 7) The Recorder, Helix, and WFCS, the radio station 8) Tuesdays at 7:15pm in the 1849 room of the Student Center
MOVIE REVIEWS
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THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND READERSHIP THIS YEAR!
texts from last night: CCSU edition
COMING NEXT...
compiled by Jen Glifort
(203): U will get one hundred dollars on Friday (1-203): Thanks, Mom. You sound like a really specific fortune cookie. (203):Yes. It will appear in your account (860): Do you have a cold? (1-860): No, a little boy just sneezed in my face -__(860): Let there be light! (203): So tired all of a sudden. I think I’ll go to bed. (1-203): Good idea. (203): I wanted to look up more cat trees on the internet though… (1-203): Lol, the cat trees will still be there when you wake up. Go to bed. (203): I almost skipped this class to eat lunch but then I realized my professor already saw me in Willard twice today. (860):Yeah, you need to get out of that building more… (860):You’re a silly nude (203): Let it be said I hates math. (860): And English too, based on that sentence. (860): I bought whipped cream and opened it in the car so I could take shots on the way home. I don’t have a problem. (203): Hahaha I love you. Love love love love you.
(860): Either their sex is as fake as the rest of their relationship, or I’ve discovered why he’s still around…
(860): I think the trees confuse him. Trees are landmarks where he’s from.
(860): Is it okay if I was going to put the components of your present together in a pretty and professional way, but a lack of planning may force me to pull it together in a sixth grade science project way?
(860) We’re watching that show with the grimm in it and there’s one about a spider who eats men after seducing them. (1-860) I asked them not to air that footage! Oh my God!
(860): I love when you tell stories by putting together lots of words without saying anything. It’s like 16th century poetry! (203): what? You dont think i am a 1500’s reincarnation of someone? am i not poignant enough? sophisticated? articulate? … haha, sorry i couldnt even keep a str8 face
(860) He cut his hair? I won’t recognize him! Oh wait. He’ll be glued to your FACE. CONTEXT CLUES.
(860): After effects? After WHAT effects? Sounds like an unethical lab. (1-860): It’s like a video, editing program. You add effects. (860): ANIMALS CAN’T CONSENT TO TESTING! When’s your class start?
(203) People are bad. Let’s run off into the mountains and not come back until we have bushy beards and tales of whimsy. (860) Ha. I’m with the boys prepping amateur drag queens. ALL I HAVE ARE BEARDS AND WHIMSY. (203) My hat is off to you! Have my pot of gold! (860) Haha trust me, I’ve see enough pots of gold today.
(203): That was supposed to be whole. Smartphone isn’t smart. (860):Yeah. Smartphone is so named because its parents believed in positive reinforcement and self-fulfilling prophesies. Silly hippies. (860):You’ve never backed into a tree or driven into a parked car, have you? (1-860): Never even run over an animal! (860): See? We all have our talents. I can formulate a sentence and you can drive like a seeing person.
FALL 2012 ISSUE THEME:
CENSORSHIP!
(860) It’s like a thousand a month, but the application is SO NOSY. (203) How nosy?? I think I’d let them do a pap smear for that money!
We know you have some good ones — Send us your funny texts! OFFCENTERMAGAZINE@YAHOO.COM
http://www.behance.net/isaaccady
AND... OVERHEARD IN NEW BRITAIN The craziest things our teachers say! The 2010-2011 OCM Club and Staff, taken by Matt Mckinzie
More TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT
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(860): Happy birthday Jello!
Look for the next issue at the beginning of the 2012-2013 school year! Here’s what we’ve got in store.
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