post- 10/26/18

Issue

In This

4

Abbie Hui

Andrew Liu

2

Den Den v. Den Den

Little State of Hauntings post- scarecrows 4

Scary Sentences James Feinberg

Love and Marriage 5

Julian Towers

Power to the People 6

postCover by Halle Krieger

OCT 26

VOL 22 —

ISSUE 7

FEATURE

Little State of Hauntings

Reflection on Vampires, Spirits, and Halloween

By Andrew Liu Illustrated by Cricket McNally

I

was easily scared growing up. There was one episode of Scooby-Doo in particular that my sister and I would rent repeatedly from the local library: Its main villain was a disturbingly well-drawn vampire with the most startling hyena laugh. Yet, the most unsettling part came near the end of the episode. Instead of the standard unmasking of the culprit with a detailed explanation of his elaborate ploy, he turned out to be an actual vampire—an undead, distant relative of one of the characters. There was something so jarring and fascinating to me about how the

monster was real that I couldn’t sleep alone the nights after we watched that episode. Still, I returned to the library to rent it out again a few weeks later. It was fun to re-experience that bit of fear, to emerge from the episode feeling a little less safe than before.

With Halloween arriving soon, horror-lovers and thrillseekers on the Brown campus won’t have to travel far to find their fix. Despite its inconspicuous size and pleasant New England scenery, Rhode Island has a surprisingly rich collection of dark fables and attractions that have

Chester Hill Cemetery and the Story of Mercy Brown In the 1890s in Exeter, Rhode Island, George and Mary Brown were happily married with three children—that is, until tuberculosis struck.

Tuberculosis, or “consumption,” as it was called

Halloween Costumes

Letter from the Editor Happy Halloweekend! post- has

inspired many storytellers and filmmakers, from H.P. Lovecraft to the makers of The Conjuring. In researching this spooky history, I’ve compiled a couple of our state’s most chilling attractions and their backstories.

1. CPax

(just turned 50!). Alternatively, schlep

2. Blue exam book

prepared some haunting RI stories and a

down to the Trinity Rep theater to admire

list of ultra-scary sentences to get you in

the new production of Pride and Prejudice,

the mood before your night out, as well as

dressed as yourself or Elizabeth Bennet.

suggestions for some delicious sodium-

Either way, consume and admire the

5. Blueno’s lamp

packed late-night meals you can partake

aesthetic of some good ol’ candy corn.

6. The Pixar lamp

in after your Halloween treats. Halloween ascetics, fear not! We suggest you block out the obligatory “Spooky Scary Skeletons” remix floating down your hall tonight by bopping along to The Beatles’ White Album

3. Blue Room muffin 4. Blueno

7. A sad college student avoiding Drink responsibly,

Jennifer

editor-in-chief of post-

midterm stress by celebrating an Americanized pagan holiday 8. A person who voted 9. Twitter (dress like a blue bird and shout your opinions at strangers) 10. A PLME (dance to the tune of YMCA)

2!post–

at the time, was the root cause of countless waves of paranoia that gripped New England in the late 19th century. Filled with gruesome and prolonged symptoms, consumption was also associated with wickedness, turning neighbors and families against each other in pious hatred. At one point, this tension led to a widespread “Vampire Panic,” causing a number of New Englanders to believe that those who died from consumption later reanimated at night to draw blood from their family.

Mary Brown was the first in her community to contract and die of the disease, followed by her eldest daughter, Mary Olive. Then her other daughter, Mercy Brown, fell ill and died shortly after. These quick successive deaths prompted a panic throughout Exeter, whose leaders insisted that they must exhume the bodies of the dead.

They unearthed the corpses sequentially.

First, Mary Brown’s body—though it still had some tissue and sinew—had no blood left in its heart or veins and thus could not possibly reanimate. Next, presumably due to variation in the soil and burial conditions, Mary Olive had nothing left on her but bone and hair.

Then came Mercy Brown. To the shock of the village leaders, her body exhibited minimal decomposition, and her heart was filled with fresh blood. They concluded that the wicked culprit had been found, and Mercy’s heart and organs were quickly incinerated shortly following her exhumation—with the ashes given to her brother to drink in an unsuccessful attempt to cure his own tuberculosis.

It is easy to forget that this incident occurred in the late 19th century, in a progressive society with fairly advanced medicinal resources. Inspired by how paranoia created a vampire hunt within just a few months, famous horror writer H.P. Lovecraft wrote the character of Mercy Dexter in his novel The Shunned House based on the story of Mercy Brown. Lovecraft shaped the novel’s plot out of horror that such barbarism could still reign in a peaceful New England town in the 19th century.

Today, Mercy lies in Chestnut Hill Cemetery, where she may or may not be resting in peace after her disinterment. There are many theories of why her body remained so fresh, such as a possible winter chill preserving her organs and keeping the blood in her body. Another theory is that her body retracted due to lack of moisture, causing both her hair and nails to appear longer in relation to the rest of her figure and giving the illusion of growth.

Mercy Brown’s case remains one of the most welldocumented exhumations in history though her story has largely faded into legend. If you are ever in the Chestnut Hill area this coming Halloween, feel free to pay your respects.

The Perron House In 1971, Roger and Carolyn Perron moved into a new farmhouse in Harrisville, Rhode Island, with their five daughters. Almost immediately, the paranormal activity began.

In the first few weeks, a broom mysteriously relocated itself around the house, leaving behind piles of collected dust in various locations. An orange oozed blood, and the smell of rotten flesh permeated the house, causing whoever caught the scent to experience the shivering sensation of a presence. If these events seem too cryptic, other incidents included the slamming of doors, levitation of beds and furniture, and perhaps the most famous: the morning Carolyn woke up to an apparition hanging over her bed. It was an old lady whose head hung to the side at an impossible angle. The lady said, “Get out! Get out!”

Convinced that something was amiss in their home, the Perrons enlisted the help of Ed and Lorraine Warren, the founders of the New England

Despite its inconspicuous size and pleasant New England scenery, Rhode Island has a surprisingly rich collection of dark fables and attractions that have inspired many storytellers and filmmakers, from H.P. Lovecraft to the makers of The Conjuring.

Society for Psychic Research, the oldest ghosthunting group in New England.

“Oh boy, that was something else, that Harrisville case,” said Lorraine when interviewed by the Providence Journal. When questioned by USA Today, she recalled, “The things that went on there were just so incredibly frightening. It still affects me to talk about it today.” One of the Perron children stated that, as soon as Lorraine entered the house, she remarked, “I feel a dark presence, and her name is Bathsheba.” According to legend, Bathsheba was a practicing Satanist who sacrificed her daughter to the devil and proceeded to hang herself to bind her spirit to the property.

Supposedly, the haunting came to a head one night when Carolyn Perron seemed to be possessed.

Andrea, one of the Perron daughters, remembered that “the only time I was truly terrified in that house was the night I thought I saw my mother die.

She spoke in a voice we had never heard before, and a power not of this world threw her 20 feet into another room.”

“Her body was distorted...it lasted several hours,” said Carolyn’s husband, Roger. Despite all of this, the family continued to live in the house for nine more years. Every morning, levitating beds and the stench of rotting flesh would greet them.

“Eventually, the family accepted the fact that [they] were not living there alone,” said Carolyn.

Andrea went on to write a trilogy on the

hauntings in the Perron House titled House of Darkness: House of Light. Regardless of whether this is smart marketing or a desire to confront terrifying experiences, there is no doubt that whatever happened in the Perron House stayed with Andrea for many years after. “Both my mother and I would just as soon swallow our tongue than tell a lie,” said Andrea. “People are free to believe whatever they want to believe. But I know what we experienced.”

The happenings in Perron House also inspired the blockbuster hit The Conjuring. The film heavily marketed its believability; it was known to be so scary that some screenings invited priests to bless the audience before the movie began. According to Carolyn, the film captured “the essence of what [the family] went through.”

Nathanael Greene Homestead Located in Coventry, Rhode Island, this historical landmark was built and occupied by the Revolutionary War hero Nathanael Greene, who was appointed by Washington to command the southern colonial forces during the war. Nathanael would commonly refer to it as “Spell Hall” in his letters.

Since the 1920s, this house has been reported to exhibit odd behaviors. Doors, handles, and even a baby carriage have been seen to move on their own. Occasionally, the kitchen abruptly fills with the smell of baking bread, even though the room hasn’t been used for centuries. There are sounds of voices, and at times, even that of a horse carriage pulling up to the front of the house. At night, there are reports of disembodied screams—but this may come as no surprise, given that the Homestead Cemetery, located right down the hill from the house, contains the bodies of four soldiers who failed to be nursed back to health at Spell Hall.

Currently, the Nathanael Greene Homestead Association is interviewing those interested in managing the landmark. Members get unlimited free tours of the house.

It’s amazing, the lengths we will go to in order to frighten ourselves with the unknown, with these and countless more mysterious attractions residing in our tiny state of Rhode Island. To this day, I cannot brush my teeth in front of a mirror immediately after seeing a horror film. And yet, the thought of going to see a scary movie with friends remains just as exhilarating. No matter how chilling the scene, I always keep one eye halfopen.

Now that we are older, perhaps Halloween’s magic lies no longer in the pillowcases of free candy, but in having a day to confront the things that make us shiver. We are lucky that we do not truly fear death via supernatural means today as people did in the 19th century, when deaths by polio, tuberculosis, or vampires were still common threats. On Halloween, we can embrace the ghosts and vampires that no longer haunt us. For a day, we can stare death and horror in the eye, and maybe even give them a friendly nod.

“Any action before an event is just pregaming for said event.”

“Usually when I speak into the void, someone responds.”

“Is there something deeply wrong with Den Den?”

October 26, 2018!3

NARRATIVE

Scary Sentences

Things You Don't Wanna Hear By post- scarecrows Illustrated by Halle Krieger

Never gonna say goodbye.

here are two Den Dens within 0.5 miles of each other. These sister restaurants share great service and tasty, artfully presented food, but both have distinct personalities—evident through their food, decor, and more.

vegetables, a sunny-side fried egg, and your choice of protein (beef, seafood, chicken, mushrooms, and more). I tried and recommend both of the two sauces: one spicy and one citrusy. I got the perfect dish for a chilly day in Providence—bibimbap served in a hot stone pot.

After you order at the counter, bring your table stand—which is pretty neat— back to your table and get settled. I remember my first time taking in the restaurant’s minimalistic decor and stylish exposed brick interior, which evinces a rustic feeling, while I waited for my food. Complementing the brick walls and yellow lighting are wooden tables, good for double dates and large groups. The nice open space and high windows further bring out the charming, hip, and laid-back ambience.

When our food arrived, I took an obligatory picture of its colorful presentation and my friends.

Then, we put our phones away and dug in. The bibimbap remained hot throughout the meal, and the sizzling stone bowl made the rice extremely crunchy at the bottom. There were many different vegetables, my egg was perfectly fried, and the protein was tender and full of flavor. All in all, I was very satisfied with the dish’s quality and quantity.

Since that first visit, I have tried an extensive selection of the menu. Den Den’s bento boxes come with a bed of rice, Japanese pickles, vegetables, and a choice of protein, such as moist, flavorful eel. The translucent, sweet potato Japchae noodles with beef are bouncy and healthy, and I will definitely be back again to try it with a different protein. The edamame— salty, creamy soybeans—is an ideal appetizer for sharing.

Den Den Cafe Asiana is a unique dining experience: in this “fast-casual” cafe, consistently tasty food pairs well with great company for a relaxed, fun time. The service is always friendly and knowledgeable–especially for first-timers.

However, Den Den often attracts a crowd on weekend nights. Additionally, it no longer accepts reservations as they renovated the building next door to expand seating capacity. Nonetheless, check out this casual spot, perfect for a catch-up date.

Den Den Cafe Asiana

Den Den Korean Fried Chicken

The first time I went here, I celebrated my first college Friendsgiving. Since then, I have returned countless times with more friends. My roommate and I always eat our first meal here to catch up when we return to campus.

Located in a neat, old brick building on the outskirts of College Hill, this quaint cafe overlooks the Providence skyline. With the restaurant’s brick exterior giving off an unassuming vibe, its delightful and cozy interior is a surprise.

As you enter, you are greeted by welcoming servers and quickly directed to a table (when the restaurant is not packed). A server hands you a menu and tells you to order at the counter when you are ready. It might feel strange to pay before you eat, but it saves you from the post-meal bill struggle when you’re eating with a big group.

The menu features an excellent variety of Korean and Japanese dishes. Behind the counter, an artsy chalkboard menu adds to the restaurant’s cafe-esque feel. Several of the popular options are boxed on the standard menu, which definitely helps first-timers narrow down the delicious options.

Despite this, I struggled to make up my mind on my first visit and asked the server at the counter what to order. Deciding between the bibimbap and the bento boxes, I ultimately chose the former: rice topped with plenty of traditional Korean marinated

The evening before a snow day, my roommate and I, excited to watch the snow fall heavily yet beautifully and hibernate in our dorm, couldn’t choose what to eat on Thayer to celebrate the upcoming cancelled classes. We decided to give Den Den Korean Fried Chicken a try as we had such great experiences at its sister restaurant.

Spinning off the original Den Den’s minimalistic decor, Den Den KFC adopts a clean, cool, and crisp style with its modernist dining room and partially open kitchen. My first impression was that the place was pretty sleek—subway tiles, black-and-white décor, wooden tables. There are two seating areas, butthe restaurant is still relatively small: tables and chairs are squished together with only one large-party table available.

As you settle down, servers hand you a simple and straightforward menu. Though it doesn’t feature all of the original Den Den’s classics, it does offer quite a few dishes in common—like kimbap—in addition to its own delicious snacks. Known for its fried chicken, Den Den KFC has interesting spins on Korean bar food.

Since it’s a namesake dish, I was initially surprised that Den Den KFC serves more than fried chicken. After a few visits, I have tried dishes ranging from whole-chicken stew to beef bulgogi served in a pan-like display. Recently, I tried an appetizer of pork

At least I’m gonna say that I tried. What’s the sense in hurting my pride?

It’s laundry day.

~~It’s spooky time~~ Please leave a message after the tone. *beep* Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo.

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.

Your instructor has released grade changes and new comments for Midterm 1. These changes are now viewable.

I really can’t stay. Baby, don’t hold out.

Let’s go to this party right when it starts.

I want to give back your essays one-on-one, in my office.

Let me check my schedule.

Your midterm isn't tomorrow; it was yesterday.

I’m PLME.

Never gonna give you up.

Read 11:47 p.m.

I really can’t stay. Baby, it’s cold outside.

She fell asleep to something scratching underneath her floorboards.

The SciLi basement is my favorite place to study.

Let’s go to the CIT. Never gonna let you down.

I’m sorry, but you don’t have enough credits to graduate.

Harry woke up in his bedroom under the stairs and realized it had all been a dream.

I’ve got to go away. Baby, it’s cold outside.

Den Den v. Den Den

Playing next: "Scott’s Tots."

Panic! at the Disco is an American rock band from Las Vegas, Nevada, formed in 2004 by childhood friends Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, and Brent Wilson.

Never gonna run around and desert you.

Say, what’s in this drink? No cabs to be had out there.

This is not a simulation.

Comparing Sister Restaurants

By ABBIE HUI illustrated by RÉMY POISSON

T

Chicken Finger Friday is cancelled.

Never gonna make you cry.

I ought to say no, no, no. Mind if I move in closer?

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him: Shia LaBeouf.

I thought I was alone, and then Christina Paxson stepped out of the shadow.

4!post–

ARTS&CULTURE

and veggie tang su dumplings that came drowned in a sweet and tangy sauce. And, like the original Den Den, Den Den KFC is a non-tipping establishment— convenient and ideal for the budget of broke college students. More importantly, this policy allows its workers to receive fair wages without relying on customers’ unreliable generosity.

Den Den KFC is definitely a great place to drop by for a tasty meal when you’re on Thayer. Try a few of its delicious dishes in addition to its fried chicken because the huge portions are meant to be shared. Although there is sometimes a wait during popular meal times, you can use this time to check out the menu.

Both Den Dens offer great service, delicious food, and reasonable prices. Whenever you’re in the mood for comfort food, go to either Den Den—the original for a cute, clean, cafe feel or KFC for modernist, fun, and trendy vibes.

Love and Marriage

Pride and Prejudice at the Trinity Repertory Theater

by James Feinberg Illustrated By Stephanie Wu

P

laywright/performer Kate Hamill’s stage adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, which premiered at Primary Stages Off-Broadway in 2017, has now made its way to the Trinity Rep, where it runs through November 4th. In last year’s production, Hamill herself played Lizzy Bennett, and it’s possible the author’s presence made for a jolt of energy that lent the play more staying power. At Trinity, in a production directed and choreographed by Birgitta Victorson, the show, despite its sleek professionalism and commitment to the bit, seems to be struggling for a reason to exist.

Though I prefer Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice is the Jane Austen novel that has inspired a laundry list of adaptations. The most prominent is the 1995 British miniseries, a complex, wellcrafted, and ambitious work remembered today for the approximately 30 seconds in which Colin Firth

wears a slightly wet shirt.

Hamill’s take is not sufficiently revisionist to be called a reinvention. There are all sorts of bells and whistles, all to do with the idea of performance.

For instance, the actors cross-dress, play multiple roles, and pause between scenes for extended dance breaks to classic rock. Given that the matrimonial drama of Austen’s era was essentially an extended pageant, that’s a great starting point.

However, her double-casting gets into trickier territory. Michael McGarty’s set design leaves the backstage area exposed, so we see heroes changing into villains and men into women live. But the point escapes me, especially since the fast-paced, gag-ridden adaptation, while consistently funny, is never funnier than the novel, which has always been underrated for its wit. The program grandly announces that the double-gendering choice asks “us as the audience to consider how gender shapes the narrative event.” It seems to me it has exactly the opposite effect—in a world of rigid gender distinction, allowing characters to slip easily across those lines has the effect of erasing the threat of singledom specific to women of the time, and thus robs Lizzy’s commitment-phobic choices of their significance.

Most of the weaknesses really aren’t the actors’ fault. Rachel Warren and Rebecca Gibel, both Trinity Company members, play Mr. Darcy and Lizzy respectively (Warren also plays Wickham). The necessity of reducing the sprawling novel to two acts of theater leaves Darcy more

communicative than strictly fits his character, but Warren nonetheless delivers a more-thanadequate performance with hints of Janet McTeer.

Gibel is as dignified and impressive as the sensible Lizzy, who gives the best performance in the show, but is also isolated by the wackiness around her and never seems to fit in. Joe Wilson Jr.’s portrayal of the fumfering clergyman Mr. Collins is borderline incoherent—though he gets the audience on his side, it often plays like he’s mugging for laughs (which, of course, he is).

What’s great about the performance’s dance sequences is that they give the actors an unvarnished chance to contribute something new.

They’re a motley crew of performers of all ages, shapes, and backgrounds, and seeing them grind to “The Final Countdown” is inherently funny and exciting. When they’re doing Pride and Prejudice proper, though, they continually strain to inject something into the proceedings we haven’t seen a million times before; in other words, they try to banish Colin Firth and other preceding iterations of the story, with little success. This production and adaptation won’t do much for fans of Austen’s work. It’s not loyal enough to the book to be rote re-creation, yet not slapstick enough to be outright silly. It’s slickly directed and charmingly acted, but not memorable enough to last through the time it would take to read the novel—an eminently more rewarding experience—or watch the miniseries.

Have you heard about that part where Colin Firth wears a wet shirt?

October 26, 2018!5

ARTS&CULTURE

Power to the People

Fifty Years of the Beatles' White Album

By Julian Towers illustrated by Katya Labowe-Stoll

L

et’s talk about that cover. Or, to focus the issue, let’s see how long we can talk about it. White background, black text, “The Beatles,”—that’s all we’re given to work with. Context is everything. So, placed in proper aesthetic sequence, following the detailed, popart explosions of the Revolver and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band covers, and far beyond the boy band posing of earlier albums, The Beatles’ artwork has obvious significance: it’s the first troll. By 1968, the band had grown so big, so world-devouringly important, it knew that, like Jesus or clean water, it had transcended the need to market itself.

There’s a reason the album’s actual title was immediately and forever discarded for the colloquial White Album; confronted with the cultural vastness of The Beatles, a blank, infinite field of space seems more manageable. But behind narcissism lurks a curious, inadvertent generosity. The artwork names the biggest musical phenomenon that had ever walked the earth, erases the phenomenon, and leaves the consumer to fill in the blank. As though that weren’t enough, each of the record five million original copies was stamped with another troll—an individualized “collector’s number.”

And that’s only the cover to a sprawling double album that, in so many more ways, bridged the gap between listeners and pop stars and fifty years on, still looms large in our understanding of that relationship.

It’s fitting that such a loose, undisciplined statement grew out of what was in many ways the tightest strung and most self-consciously iconic era of the band’s career. The previous year’s Sgt. Pepper had been rigorously conceived—a psychedelic song cycle that demanded to be heard complete and in order, each successive track like a chapter in a novel.

Though commonplace now, this sonic unity was unprecedented. Albums were rarely conceived as more than a reproduction of a live performance, and never as a performance in themselves—a notion the Beatles shattered explicitly with the bookending music-hall concept of Sgt.Pepper. Today, listening to the title track segue seamlessly from rowdy applause to the plinking riff of “With A Little Help From My Friends,” it’s difficult not to get a little giddy imagining the minds blown. And the response was indeed overwhelming.

Radio stations reorganized programing to play Sgt. Pepper in full, Time Magazine called the album “a historic departure in the progress of music,” and the band ascended from stadium pop stars to high artists with serious expectations on their back.

So they ran away, decamping to India for a transcendental meditation retreat with guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Famously, this would prove neither restorative nor pleasurable, and per Lennon, the band mostly “sat in the mountains eating lousy vegetarian food.” In this bored isolation, with no more than a shared bag of hash keeping them together, the

unity that had shone through Pepper’s day-glo military outfits fell apart. No longer pitted against the world, the Beatles turned upon themselves, upon everything they had created. Their seamless interplay, on which so much praise had been heaped, was forsaken, as members retreated into isolation to write new songs.

When it came time to record, the four were rarely in the same room together, electing to combine their parts through studio overdubs.

It’s often said that The White Album doesn’t quite sound like an album, or even the work of a group, and that it more often resembles a series of random tracks stitched together. That’d constitute a critique were this most bands, but the Beatles encompassed three songwriters of idiosyncrasy unrivaled in rock ’n’ roll.

That they could ever pool into a stable creative unit, an unshakeable brand, was remarkable. And for the first time, listeners could hear them forgoing the group identity to forward their own creative whims. This brought no loss in brilliance; classics like “Blackbird” and “Julia” feature only their songwriters on the track.

But across the record’s many sounds—grounded in their basic pop/rock, but incorporating hard blues, mournful folk, some truly frigged-up experimentation, and a whole bunch of English novelty crap—the band’s genius appears fractured and abstract.

And then there was the flip side—in the literal sense of “flip over the record side please; this song is bad and I don’t want to hear it anymore.” The Beatles had produced flawed music before, but without a united front, the missteps now had individual targets on their backs. “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “Honey Pie” revealed McCartney’s inexplicable obsession with sing-along children’s kitsch. Sick of being undervalued, Harrison strained too hard with the overblown arrangements for “Piggies” and “Savoy Truffle.” Lennon, bit hardest

by India's spiritual disillusionment, had grown unbearably cynical— with songs like “Glass Onion” and “Bungalow Bill” laying it on all too thick. And then there was Ringo, a first-time songwriter whose selfconsciously titled contribution—“Don’t Pass Me By”— had ironically produced the most skippable track on the album.

But taken as a whole, The White Album is unimaginable without these songs; minus their flaws, it certainly wouldn’t be as important, and it probably wouldn’t be as great. There’s nothing else

Chantal Marauta, The Cheerleader Effect 10.27.16

6!post–

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Section Editors

Assistant Copy Editors

CO-LAYOUT CHIEFS

Jennifer Osborne

Julian Towers

Mohima Sattar

Jacob Lee

a

Liza Edwards-Levin

Sonya Bui

Nina Yuchi

Managing Editor

NARRATIVE

HEAD OF MEDIA

Amy Choi

Anita Sheih

Managing Editor

Samantha Haigood

Utkan Dora Öncül

Section Editors

Celina Sun

Kathy Luo

Section Editors

HEAD

Sydney Lo

Divya Santhanam

ILLUSTRATOR

Jasmine Ngai

Remy Poisson

Managing Editor

COPY CHIEF

BUSINESS LIAISON

Josh Wartel

Amanda Ngo

Saanya Jain

FEATURE

Layout Designers

Jiyeon Park

ARTS & CULTURE

Steve Ju WEB MASTER Jeff Demanche

Want to be involved?

Email: post@browndailyherald.com!

“Despite their bucket hats, awkwardlyhanging jackets, and baggy dad jeans, their confidence, smooth voices, and synchronization make them awfully sexy.”

like it: pure chaos—the most iconic moments in music history competing against songs that baffle belief.

Occasionally, a stretch of something like logic will arise in the track listing—the run of animal titled songs on side B, the cheeky joke of putting the wholesome “I Will” right after “Why Don’t We Do It in the Road,” the long, wet fart of bullshit on Side A that lets you skip right from “Dear Prudence” to “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”—but on the whole, as the tracks scroll by, there's a constant feeling of discovery.

Figuring out the best way to listen to 90 minutes of The White Album can therefore feel like an economic exercise, a measuring of opportunity cost. Am I so sick of hearing “Back in the U.S.S.R” that I want to start the album on “Dear Prudence”? Do I lift the needle between “Birthday” and “Mother Nature’s Son,” or do I give John Lennon screaming “I WANT TAH DIEEE” another chance to win me over? Do I suffer all the way through “Revolution 9” just to hear Ringo sing me “Good Night?” Does hearing Ringo sing me “Good Night” mean anything if I haven’t just suffered all the way through “Revolution 9?” All these judgements will be made at some point, though it’s unlikely they’ll stick.

The White Album is curious in that people’s opinions about its songs will often shift wildly, even though their actual opinion about the album itself rarely does. It will always be overlong and unwieldy, but any day we might wake up and realize with shock that “Martha My Dear” is the prettiest song in the English language.

It’s therefore a remarkably individuating record, the platform from which many music nerds have reverse engineered their taste and preference (a love for loud music often begins with “Helter Skelter”).

It grants the courage to direct sacrilegious words— “garbage,” “trash,” “whaaaa—??”—against the most important band of all time, and opens the doorway to critical thought of all stripes. And right now, it’s an especially depressing contrast to our era of curated streaming, where Spotify Discover makes actual discovery unnecessary, and Drake’s Scorpion can be the most popular album in the world despite nobody actually listening to the whole thing. And while double albums would come from other bands—often just as indulgent, sprawling, and overflowing with ideas— never again would one prove so humbling of its artist and elevate so many of its listeners. So come on, take the Magical Mystery Tour.