Synthesis Weekly – April 7, 2014 by Synthesis

the polaroids of isabel dresler

This week at...

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Volume 20 Issue 33 April 7, 2014

For 20 years The Synthesis’ goal has remained to provide a forum for entertainment, music, humor, community awareness, opinions, and change.

Columns

This Week...

Letter From the Editor

Roid Rage

Publisher/Managing Editor

by Amy Olson

amy@synthesis.net

What’s the deal with polaroid photography, and where’s the best place to see an exhibition of them? Also, does anyone ever take pictures of sex workers and abandoned match factories? What can you do if you have a hankering to explore all these things in a train car on, I dunno, say... April 11th around 6pm?

PAGE 4

Creative Director

Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA

Tanner Ulsh graphics@synthesis.net

by Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff

PAGE 5

Productivity Wasted by Eli Schwartz

PAGE 6

Designers

Colin Leiker, Mike Valdez graphics@synthesis.net

Contributing Writers

logankruidenier.tumblr.com

PAGE 17

Consider the Platypus by Mona Treme

Arielle Mullen, Bob Howard, Howl, Jaime O’Neill, Koz McKev, Tommy Diestel, Jayme Washburn, Eli Schwartz, Mona Treme, Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff, Jon Williams

Photography PAGE 17

Immaculate Infection

Madbob@madbob.com

Contributing writer Jon Williams knows his metal, and asks all the pertinent questions in this interview with Conducting from the Grave’s John Abernathy. That’s right! Find out where he conducts from, whether he would prefer burial or cremation, and why he spells his name with an “h.” Oh wait, that’s what I would’ve asked.

jaimeandkarenoneill@gmail.com

Jessica Sid Vincent Latham

Nerd

Dain Sandoval dain@synthesis.net

by Bob Howard

Interviewing From The Grave

PAGE 19

Alex Light Alex@synthesis.net SynthesisWeekly.com/submit-yourevent/

Joey Murphy, Jennifer Foti

by Logan Kruidenier

PAGE 20

Old Crock

Accounting Ben Kirby

Director of Operations Karen Potter

Owner

by Jaime O'Neill

PAGE 21

Kozmik Debris by Koz McKev

kozmckev@sunset.net

Entertainment Editor

Deliveries

Supertime!

PAGE 10

Amy Olson amy@synthesis.net

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Bill Fishkin bill@synthesis.net The Synthesis is both owned and published by Apartment 8 Productions. All things published in these pages are the property of Apartment 8 Productions and may not be reproduced, copied or used in any other way, shape or form without the written consent of Apartment 8 Productions. One copy (maybe two) of the Synthesis is available free to residents in Butte, Tehama and Shasta counties. Anyone caught removing papers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All opinions expressed throughout the Synthesis are those of the author and are not necessarily the same opinions as Apartment 8 Productions and the Synthesis. The Synthesis welcomes, wants, and will even desperately beg for letters because we care what you think. We can be reached via snail mail at the Synthesis, 210 W. 6th St., Chico, California, 95928. Email letters@ synthesis.net. Please sign all of your letters with your real name, address and preferably a phone number. We may also edit your submission for content and space.

210 West 6th Street Chico Ca 95928 530.899.7708 editorial@synthesis.net

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 3

PET OF THE WEEK

Small Adventures OUT WITH THE NORMAL, IN WITH THE WEIRD Ah, spring. March came in like a lamb, and out like a tornado full of screaming lambs. I’m all about this weather, it has me making snap decisions and having spontaneous fun. How could anyone stick to their routine when they see a gigantic rainbow blazing across the sky like a unicorn with explosive diarrhea?

Scoo by If you’ve got some love in your heart and a spot on your couch be prepared for this dog to wiggle his way into both! This loveable goofball is Scooby, and once that tail gets going there’s no stopping it! He just wiggles and bounces around whenever he meets new people, he’s that excited! He just can’t wait to play play play!The only thing he likes as much as people are other dogs! This charming young fella is going to make a fabulous new family member for whoever is lucky enough to scoop him up!

2579 Fair Street Chico, CA 95928 (530) 343-7917 • buttehumane.org

Now Hear This SYNTHESIS WEEKLY PLAYLIST

Gogol Bordello “Start Wearing Purple”

Tanner

Andrew Jackson Jihad - “Kokopelli Face Tattoo”

Colin

Beacon - “Bring you Back”

Dinah

Gogol Bordello - “Start Wearing Purple”

Brandon

The Bled - “Dale Earndhart’s Seatbelt”

Mike

Miley Cyrus - “Party in the USA”

Becca

Bon Iver - “Blook Bank”

Howl

Animals as Leaders - “Ka$cade”

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

There’s just something about rarity that makes ten minutes of sunshine an impetus to run outside and revel in the beauty of it all, when three weeks ago the endless stretch of gorgeous days were eye-rollingly boring. The threat of the warmth and light having an expiration date makes me want to live the moment like it’s my last. I guess it’s like how vampires don’t appreciate immortality (according to numerous documentaries I’ve seen, not personal experience as a fangbanger). And then there’s the storms! The torrential rain and hail, downspouts overflowing like geysers, and people running around giggling like little kids trying to stay dry. I was having dinner at Thai Basil a few days ago when the sky opened up, and everyone in the restaurant suddenly turned to the window and started gasping and chatting with each other about how we all left our umbrellas in the car, and how funny the poor suckers outside were, running with their shirts over their heads. Just like that, all the odd little social boundaries dissolved. Those moments make me all giddy; I like it when the rules change and strangers start acting as like friends. It’s like in a musical when everyone suddenly busts into choreography, except it’s just a group of diners making fun of some poor schlub getting pelted by hail. Anyway, I’m in high spirits. Dain and I went for a nice little jaunt up to Table Mountain to check out the flowers and have a snack-picnic. We gambled and won with some bargain-bin deviled eggs, which is always a good feeling, and got a lot of pictures of rocks. We also drove down some random backroads on the outskirts of Oroville, where we saw two goats, a dilapidated mini-windmill, and a lot of No Trespassing signs.

Continuing the streak of small adventures, we started taking a ballroom dance class through CARD. Nothing says breaking routine like entering a new environment to learn something totally alien, feeling super nervous and out of place, and then discovering you’re harboring hidden talents. I’m not saying we’re Astaire and Rogers or anything, but we definitely don’t suck as bad as some of the other couples (in your face, other couples!). Plus, it turned out to be super fun and oddly thought provoking. The basic deal is that the man leads and the woman follows; you just shut off your brain and go where the man moves you. On the one hand I recognize this gender dominance thing as a relic of oldtime sexism, but when it comes to dancing anything that isn’t choreographed, someone has to lead, and it was surprisingly thrilling for me to let go of all control and let him take charge. Dain’s not a bossy guy—which is one of the things I really like about him—but I found it incredibly hot, and I found that incredibly weird. Speaking of segues, did you notice that column over there to the right? Well, it’s called “Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA,” and it’s by our brand-new columnist Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff. He and it are both awesome.

Letter From the Editor by Amy Olson

amy@synthesis.net

A Classy Guy And Some Stir-Fry Turandot: North China Gourmet Cuisine John Trenalone plays Fridays and Saturdays, 6-9 893-1156 1851 Esplanade Turandot isn’t like some other Chinese restaurants. It doesn’t have a murky fish tank, with a single, depressed fish swimming back and forth. It isn’t dank, or poorly lit. It isn’t patronized exclusively by zombie-lumbering, morbidly obese clientele, squeezing into booths for an Orange Chicken salt/sugar/fat fix. (I don’t want to name names, but the place I’m thinking of’s name starts with a “G” and ends in an “inger’s.”) It’s broad and bright, lit by huge skylights and a long wall of windows. There are beautiful traditional regalia on display. The servers are cheery and sweet and good at what they do. The diners are non-suicidal looking, even happy. The color scheme of mauve, maroon, and salmon-pink is terrible, true. But that’s part of Turandot’s unpretentious charm. And the food isn’t overtly toxic. In fact, it’s fresh and tasty. But the reason that Turandot is my new fav go-to place to avoid human contact and read alone on a Friday or Saturday night—while hip people go to “shows” and college kids get drunk and date rape each other—sits on a little leather stool, behind a glisteningly-polished black Concert Grand piano. His name is John Trenalone and he turned 80 a month ago. Mr Trenalone plays jazz standards from the ‘30s, ‘40s and ‘50s, with a feather-light touch, a deep, intuitive emotional understanding. The music is tinged with melancholy. It’s the perfect music for watching the Esplanade traffic drift by in the rain. Mr Trenalone bobs his head here and there, emphasizing a note, but nothing ostentatious. When he works the petals, with polished loafers, it’s as if he’s chauffeuring a Bentley, easy on the gas, easy on the brake. I love his play.

I convince him to join me, during his intermissions. Mr Trenalone has white hair, dark brows, a broad, fleshy, handsome face, with strong masculine features: a good chin; an old fashioned nose—the sort they don’t make any more; a bottom lip that pouts out a bit, or pulls back into a little grin, his dark eyes twinkling. Piano is all he’s ever known. He’s been playing since he was eight, and playing professionally since he was 16, when the owner of the piano bar where he was hired had to paint a mustache on him to make him look of age. Mr Trenalone grew up in the Stockton area, where he once played for the likes of Charlton Heston and Gregory Peck, on a showboat that had been brought across the Panama Canal from Louisiana, and moored in the Stockton Deep Water Channel. “I was told, when I moved here, that there was a nice piano in this place,” Mr Trenalone tells me, when I ask him how he wound up playing in a Chinese restaurant. And how does he avoid burning out on these old tunes? “I never play ‘em the same way twice,” he says. “Never.” Mr Trenalone, so God Damn classy.

Exotic Adventures in Smalltown, USA

by Emiliano Garcia-Sarnoff

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Ether One

OPTIONAL WORLD, POWERFUL STORY

CASH! CASH! CASH! We pay cash for your recyclables!! CRV ALUMINUM CANS $2.00/Pound E-WAStE! We pay 5¢ per pound for TV’s , Computers, Monitors and Laptops!! And, as a courtesy to our customers, we’ll accept all other consumer electronics, such as fax machines, printers, VHS players, etc. as a drop-off, with no payments* * Some restrictions may apply Call for more information on getting cash for other recyclable materials.

2565 S. Whitman Place, Chico (Corner of East Park Avenue and S. Whitman Place) 343-5500

I play many different types of games, but I find myself reviewing so many adventure/puzzle games, I decided to take a break from them. “No more adventure reviews, at least for a few weeks,” I said. Well, Ether One came out. I played it, and immediately went back on my word. Explaining fully what Ether One is about is difficult. It’s a game about dementia, but who is dementia about, really? Is it about the patient, the doctor, the memories lost, the places that exist only in memory, the people and harm and meaning locked within? Is it about Jean, the Restorer, or the village of Pinwheel? Ether One, although it’s not a funny game, has a tongue-in-cheek name. Ether One doesn’t pick a singular focus. It’s about the mind, the memories, the people, and the places within and without. It’s about all the connections that stretch out from the question of a lost memory and a lost place, and it reveals life with its own everyday tools. There are no guns, nor any weapon to speak of. Progressing through the game is a matter of using the mundane functions of life, restoring the village and its functions as best you can. The thing is, there’s a lot to do. Ether One is about 85 percent optional content. To some gamers, there is no such thing as optional content. Many have not rested until they got the super-secret 100 percent completion true ending and unlocked all the in-game cheats, even the super-secret jokes left into the code by the developers. Ether One doesn’t have any of that. The game ends the same no matter what you do. And if you really want to, you can probably beat it an about an hour, maybe two. But those who stick around and explore will find the village

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

...dozens of separate stories, richly painting Pinwheel, its inhabitants, their adventures... of Pinwheel made with nearly obsessive care, as though it were a completely real place,and only had to be written into code. The patient and persistent will find dozens of puzzles in every area, few of which are easy. If the game has one caveat, it’s that the full experience of finding all the little bits of life and story sprinkled throughout is not for beginners. Finishing everything will reveal dozens and dozens of separate stories, richly painting Pinwheel, its inhabitants, and their adventures with the full emotional depth of a self-contained world—but it will take you hours just to figure out what’s a puzzle and what isn’t. There is no limit to how much is enough optional content and how much is too little; every bit of exploration is not done for bonuses, but for the player’s own desire to discover and solve. Ether One is an incredibly detailed game of exploration, and it can be short or long, difficult or easy. But if you want my recommendation (and you’re reading my article, so either you do or you pity me), play as much as you can, play until Pinwheel feels like a second home and Thomas and Jean feel like important, real people, then finish the game and understand the fragile, indispensible world of memory.

Productivity Wasted by Eli Schwartz

Wo Fat Head WHEN INBREEDING GOES WRONG BY MICHELE FRENCH

My oldest cat, Wo Fat, looks like a purebred Siamese, but he’s not. I knew his mom, Miss Brows (a.k.a. The Browser); she was a pastel tortoiseshell with, oddly enough, Siamese points amongst her gray and peach splotches. To produce Wo, she must have gotten together with one of her more Siamese cousins. Wo’s first misstep came when he was ten months old and got Miss Brows pregnant. She was needy, and he’s sweet and obliging. Even though it was only the cats, I felt as if I were living in Dogpatch or among the Jukes and the Kallikaks. I dealt with the situation by having her spayed and him neutered. The only problem is, he’s never realized he’s not a tomcat anymore. He’s sexy as all get out and he has a crush on my youngest male, a little black and white tuxedo kitty named Sydney. On December 25, 2010 at 3pm, Wo set my kitchen on fire. From my bedroom I heard him up on top the fridge with Syd. Wo was trilling

and probably had his teeth sunk in Syd’s neck while Syd was snarling as if he were saying, “Hey, buddy! I don’t swing that way!” Pretty soon I heard a “thooomp” and turned to see Wo on his feet on the floor shaking his head. He decided to get back up on the horse that threw him and, as he jumped up on the stove, I heard a “click.” “What’s that?,” I thought stupidly. About 30 seconds later I stood watching all my potholders and a box of brown sugar go up in smoke. The flames were about a foot and a half from the ceiling, and—in a split second—I thought about calling the fire department, then decided against it. A) I’d feel silly, and B) they’d probably get there too late. A large glass baking dish was providentially sitting on the counter. I filled it with water which I dumped on the conflagration. Disaster averted. Wo’s latest caper came last fall as I was doing

research on my computer. He came roaring into my bedroom, airborne at the doorway, as hysterical as if thousands of tiny demons were attacking his fuzzy butt with miniature pitchforks. Suffering from fleas, he may have reasoned that if he clung to me the fleas might transfer themselves to me and leave him alone. He missed his mark and landed on the keyboard, did a little tap dance and turned the image on the screen upside down. You have no idea how difficult it was to shut the computer off properly. My brother finally got the image righted, but I had to help him turn the monitor upside down so he could use the mouse more easily. Everyone I’ve told this story to say they’ve never heard anything like it. Wo’s latest enthusiasm is to crawl up on top of me when I’m lying in bed. He’s suffering from fleas again, so every five seconds he has to jump up, chew and/or scratch himself or shake his head. I feel soooo rested.

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 7

BY HOWL

Animé director Shinichiro Watanabe has been father to a couple of the most timeless shows in the genre. His debut series Cowboy Bebop in 1998 was met with international praise and numerous awards, and is credited by critics with helping to bring animé to the West. His feudal-Japan period-piece follow up Samurai Champloo only furthered Watanabe’s reputation as a master of the art. After nine years spent doing who-knows-what, Watanabe returned to his throne to direct the spectacular, eccentric Space Dandy. While unmistakably a brainchild of the same mind that conceived Bebop, this show is a vast stylistic departure from his past works. All of the sobriety of the first two series is swept away in waves of sci-fi, nonsense, psychedelia, aliens, humor, smart-phones, and boobs. One episode sees our three unwitting protagonists on an epic quest across space to find the best ramen-stand in the galaxy, and Instagram all their dishes as they go. Another episode turns our heroes into zombies ten minutes in, and spends the rest of the show expounding upon the pros and cons of a completely zombified society. The characters frequently wind up deceased by the time the credits roll, which doesn’t interfere in the slightest with their taking part in the next part of the story. To be sure, there is a certain glue of a plot attempting to hold it all together, but the chosen story elements are so garishly cliché as to be a joke in and of themselves. Our three protagonists (a space cowboy, a cat-alien, and a robot) search the galaxy for new species of alien to hunt, capture, and register at the 8

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

galactic census for a small buck. Little do they know, a sinister villain dubbed “Dr. Gel” is hunting the cowboy Dandy everywhere he goes, believing Dandy to hold a secret power that could rule the universe. Dr. Gel reports to an even evil-er villain—some kind of flaming skull thing. The creators’ intentional irreverence is shown even here, by insisting that their sci-fi version of Hooters (called Boobies) takes up more screentime and provides more action than the actual story. If you’re wondering about the purpose of such a silly-sounding show, you obviously haven’t seen it with your own eyes yet. The opening credits sequence alone is an award-worthy achievement of animation, bursting with a psychedelic mastery of color and line. Every shape here is boldly drawn and brilliantly colored; all limits of visual art seem to have been thrown to the wayside in order to have as much fun as possible. Space Dandy is striking, arresting, and beautiful. Hordes of strange, unique aliens are present in every episode, made all the more remarkable by the fact that they’ll be forgotten within minutes. The show doesn’t hesitate at all to incorporate very different styles of animation into single episodes; they even go so far as to use a different creature designer for every alien planet the characters visit—and they visit a LOT of planets. Bound to be underrated at first because of its unwillingness to take itself seriously for more than five minutes, Watanabe’s new series is still a masterpiece that all lovers of visual art will benefit from.

PHOTOS BY VINCE LATHAM FACEBOOK.COM/VANGUARD.PHOTOGRAPHY

On The Town FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 9

wish you were here BY AMY OLSON The polaroids of Isabel Dresler intrigued me from the outset. From her choice of medium and composition, to her choice of subject—she is tracing the edges of something profound and raw that most of us never see. We sit together in the train car at Empire Coffee, the site of her monthlong exhibition: Wish You Were Here. I thumb through her book of photos over and over while we talk, seeing them in new ways every time. Part of the obvious appeal of photographs is that we can capture a moment and save it forever (or at least that’s the illusion). We have a sense that fleeting things can be made permanent, that we can choose the memories that will define our lives and they will remain crystal clear. In this digital age it’s become

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

even easier to indulge in that idea, to snap up images of everything, change them into what we idealize them to be, and throw away the ones we’d rather forget. Of course, that isn’t quite true: nothing lasts forever, and an altered image is like remembering a fairy tale. Polaroids are more honest. They age, they fade and warp with time, eventually they will die. More than that, they can’t be altered. Once you press that button it’s done, so to create that perfect image you have to think, prepare, and ultimately be willing to accept the outcome. Isabel Dresler takes this a step further: many of her photographs layer exposures, image upon image, creating mystifying connections

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between what were once separate moments. To do this she has to hold that picture in her mind, hold that memory like a ghost while she imagines how it will interlock with the next one, and prepares again for her only shot at catching it.

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There’s another level to all this though, and that’s what’s important to Isabel. CONTINUED ON PAGE 16

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FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 13

This Week Only...

BEST BETS IN ENTERTAINMENT

Thursday, April 10th

Saturday, April 12th

WOLVES ‘N’ WHEELS: MATERIAL MOVEMENT

DEAR MISGUIDED EP RELEASE CAFE CODA

UNIVERSITY ART GALLERY

Chico State MFA Candidate Michael Hurley showcases new ceramics that explore humanity’s relationship with Earth’s materials. Showing April 7th11th, with a reception April 10th from 5-7pm. Artist’s talk at 5:30. Located at 100 Trinity Hall on campus.

There’s a lot of great rock happening Saturday. Members of Dear Misguided won the Chico Unplugged songwriter’s contest. Articls from Stockton have a big, colorful swagger reminiscent of Number One Gun. Also ft. Final Last Words, and Gloomsday from San Diego. $5, 7:30pm.

Friday, April 11th

Sunday, April 13th

SENATOR THEATRE

100TH MONKEY

SCHOOLBOY Q

CULT LEADER (EX-MEMS OF GAZA)

Quincy Matthew Hanley is freshly signed to Interscope Records with a fresh album Oxymoron and a fresh tour that just so happens to stop by Chico, CA. Schoolboy Q’s on his way up, and hip hop fans owe it to themselves to witness him in their hometown. $20 adv., 8pm.

229 BROADWAY ST, CHICO, CA

Other new and exciting things!

9 Wednesday

t h g i N e e i d La own the night

thursdays

1078 Gallery: Jeff Campbell, Kyle Williams, Tyler Stenson. $5-$10 sliding scale, 8pm LaSalles: Stitched Up Heart, The Nearly Deads.

10 Thursday

1078 Gallery: Berri Txarrax, Severance Package, Metronaut. $5, 8pm Cafe Coda: So Much Light, Suns Of The Pacific, Two Door Rev, Adam Scarborough. $5, 8pm LaSalles: Swamp Zen. 6-9pm Laxson: San Francisco Scottish Fiddlers. Adults $23, Students $15, 7:30pm Senator: Asking Alexandria, August Burns Red, We Came As Romans, Crown The Empire, Born Of Osiris. $30 adv., 6:30pm

Wismer Theatre CSUC: “Donna Stone Breed Memorial One-Acts” Adults $15, Students $6, add $2 at the door. 7:30pm

11 Friday

12 Saturday

1078 Gallery: Conducting From The Grave. See feature. $10, 8pm Cafe Coda: Bogg plays the music of Joni Mitchell. 11am-1:30pm El Rey: Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour. $12, 6-10pm Empire Coffee: Isabel Dresler’s Polaroids Reception. 6pm Lost On Main: Earphunk, w. Gravy Brain. $5 before 10pm, $7 after. 9pm Maltese: Twisted Strategies. $5, 9pm Monstros: Reivers, Badger, Sarah X Connor, Kong. $5, 8pm

EAT. DRINK. PLAY. 229 BROADWAY ST, CHICO, CA 14

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

Cult Leader is signed to Jacob Bannon’s Deathwish Inc., and has lost none of the furious intensity from when they were affiliated with GAZA. Also featuring Yautja from Tennessee, and Chico’s superstars of thrash Into The Open Earth. This little café won’t know what hit it. $5, 7pm.

Find Out How you Can Play Pool for Only $1/Day!

1078 Gallery: Guitar Project w. Warren Haskell & Friends. General Adm. $10, Seniors & Students $5, 7pm Chico Museum: “Chico’s Oldest Neighborhood” lecture, by local historian John Gallardo. Donations accepted, 10am Chico Theater Company: “Shrek: The Musical” opening day. Adults $20, Children $13, 7:30pm Harlen Adams Theatre CSUC: “Band-ology”, by the Symphonic Winds group. 7:30pm Laxson: Arlo Guthrie. Adults $33, Students $25, 7:30pm

Lost On Main: Scott Pemberton Trio, Swamp Zen. 9pm Maltese: Erin Lizardo, Leafy Green, Liam Kyle Cahill, Sir Francis Lee Howard. $5, 9pm Wismer Theatre CSUC: “Donna Stone Breed Memorial One-Acts” Adults $15, Students $6, add $2 at the door. 7:30pm

13 Sunday

Center For The Arts (Grass Valley): The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. $25, 8pm Chico Womens Club: Cammies Finale & Awards Show, ft. 13 acts on two stages. Free, 2-7pm Wismer Theatre CSUC: “Donna Stone Breed Memorial One-Acts” Adults $15, Students $6, add $2 at the door. 2pm

LESSONS, LEAGUES AND TOURNAMENTS! GREAT FOOD! LIVE MUSIC! 319 Main Street (530) 892-2473

Ongoing Events 7 Monday

100th Monkey: Happy Healing Hour: variety of healing modalities offered to the public. Donations accepted, 5:30pm The Bear: Bear-E-oke! 9pm Cafe Coda: 1st Monday Jazz. $10, 7-8:30pm Cafe Flo: Jazz Happy Hour ft. Carey Robinson Trio. 5-7pm Word Play: Poetry Open Mic. 7pm Chico Womens Club: Prenatal Yoga. 5:30-6:30pm DownLo: Pool League. 3 player teams, signup with bartender. 7pm. All ages until 10pm Maltese: Open Mic Comedy or Music, alternates every week. Signups at 8pm, starts at 9pm. Mug Night 7-11:30pm The Tackle Box: Latin Dance Classes. Free, 7-9pm Turner Print Museum: “Angles and Plains” Art Exhibition. University Art Gallery: “Wolves ‘n’ Wheels: Material Movement”, Michael Hurley’s MFA Exhibition. In 100 Trinity Hall, 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Yoga Center Of Chico: Sound Healing w. Emiliano. Breathwork, Meditation, Healing.

8 Tuesday

100th Monkey: Fusion Belly Dance class with BellySutra. $8/class or $32/month. 7pm Cafe Flo: Open Mic with Aaron Jaqua. 7-9pm Chico Women’s Club: Yoga. 9-10am. Afro Carribean Dance. $10/class or $35/mo. 5:50-7pm. Followed by Capoeira, $3-$10. 7:30-8:30pm Crazy Horse Saloon: All Request Karaoke. 21+ DownLo: Game night. All ages until 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: Salsa Lessons, 7-10pm.

LaSalles: ’90s night. 21+ Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-Close The Tackle Box: Karaoke, 9pm Turner Print Museum: “Angles and Plains” Art Exhibition. University Art Gallery: “Wolves ‘n’ Wheels: Material Movement”, Michael Hurley’s MFA Exhibition. In 100 Trinity Hall, 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Trivia Challenge. Call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts 6:30pm

9 Wednesday

100th Monkey: Open Mic. 7pm The Bear: Trike Races. Post time 10pm Cafe Flo: Live Jazz, 5-7pm Chico Women’s Club: Afro Brazilian Dance. 5:30-7pm DownLo: Wednesday night jazz. 8 Ball Tournament, signups 6pm, starts 7pm Duffys: Dance Night! DJ Spenny and Jeff Howse. $1, 9pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Jesus Center: Derelict Voice Writing Group, everyone welcome. 9-10:30am Panamas: Bar Swag Bingo/Trivia Night. 9-11pm The Tackle Box: Line Dance classes. Free, 5:30-7:30pm. Swing Dance classes. Free, 7:30-9:30pm Turner Print Museum: “Angles and Plains” Art Exhibition. University Art Gallery: “Wolves ‘n’ Wheels: Material Movement”, Michael Hurley’s MFA Exhibition. In 100 Trinity Hall, 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstock’s: Trivia Night plus Happy Hour. call at 4pm to reserve a table. Starts at 8pm

10 Thursday

The Beach: DJ Mack Morris. 10:30pm

LIFE IN CHICO

The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pm Blue Room: Hedwig & The Angry Inch. $13-$20, 7:30pm Cafe Flo: Delta Blues Project w. Porkchop Holder. 7-10pm DownLo: Chico Jazz Collective. 8-11pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Has Beans: Open Mic Night. 7-10pm. Signups start at 6pm Holiday Inn Bar: Karaoke. 8pm-midnight LaSalles: Free live music on the patio. 6-9pm Maltese: Karaoke. 9pm-close Panamas: Buck night and DJ Eclectic & guests on the patio. 9pm University Art Gallery: “Wolves ‘n’ Wheels: Material Movement”, Michael Hurley’s MFA Art Reception. In 100 Trinity Hall, 5-7pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm Woodstocks: Open Mic Night Yoga Center Of Chico: Ecstatic Dance with Clay Olson. 7:309:30pm

11 Friday

The Beach: DJ2k & Mack Morris. 9pm The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pm Blue Room: Hedwig & The Angry Inch. $13-$20, 7:30pm, 11pm Cafe Coda: Friday Morning Jazz with Bogg. 11am Crazy Horse Saloon: Fusion Fridays, the best country, rock, oldies, 80s & top 40. Country dance lessons 9-10:30pm DownLo: ½ off pool. All ages until 10pm. Live Music, 8pm Duffys: Pub Scouts- Happy Hour. 4-7pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm Holiday Inn Bar: DJ Dance Party. 8pm-midnight LaSalles: Open Mic night on the patio. 6-9pm

Maltese: Happy hour with live jazz by Bogg. 5-7pm. LGBTQ+ Dance Party. 9pm Panamas: Jigga Julee, DJ Mah on the patio. 9pm Peeking: BassMint. Weekly electronic dance party. $3. 9:30pm Sultan’s Bistro: Bellydance Performance. 6:30-7:30pm University Art Gallery: “Wolves ‘n’ Wheels: Material Movement”, Michael Hurley’s MFA Exhibition. In 100 Trinity Hall, 9am-5pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm

SICILIAN CAFÉ

12 Saturday

The Beach: DJ Mah. 9pm The Bear: DJ Dancing. Free, 9pm Blue Room: Hedwig & The Angry Inch. $13-$20, 7:30pm, 11pm Crazy Horse Saloon: Ladies Night Dancing. 10pm-1:30am DownLo: 9 Ball tournament. Signups at noon, starts at 1pm. All ages until 10pm The Graduate: Free Pool after 10pm LaSalles: 80’s Night. 8pm-close Panamas: DJ Eclectic on the patio. 9pm University Bar: Free Pool 6-8pm

13 Sunday

100th Monkey: Death Cafe. Eat and drink, and talk about death. 2pm Dorothy Johnson Center: Soul Shake Dance Church. Free-style dance wave, $8-$15 sliding scale. 10am-12:30pm DownLo: Free Pool, 1 hour with every $8 purchase. All ages until 10pm LaSalles: Karaoke. 9pm Maltese: Live Jazz 4-7pm. Trivia 8pm Tackle Box: Karaoke, 8pm

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facebook.com/ChicoCA

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 15

Continued from page 11. Degradation What’s more degrading: working for low wages under a boss who’s always trying to squeeze more out of you, or being a sex worker? Before you answer, consider for a minute where we draw the lines, and why. There are a lot of different aspects of the sex industry, from prostitution to pornography to exotic dancing to phone sex to webcams… anything that involves stimulating sexual desire for profit. There are other industries that profit from our base desires. Whether we’re talking about the lust for battle that’s stimulated by violent sports and action films and videogames, or the lust for once hard-tofind fat and sugar that drives us to pour money into processed food companies—we don’t find it shameful to work in any industry other than sex. What makes this so different, so dehumanizing? Isabel photographs a lot of things, but I think her most fascinating subjects are these people, and the way she portrays them: not as victims, not as objects—as complex individuals with their own ways of expressing sexuality. She’s traveled the nation, meeting people through word of mouth referrals, interviewing them and taking their photographs—both for art and for their own commercial use. She’s shot scenes that are soft, scenes that are sleazy, and scenes that actually made me blush (and, reportedly, made her mother blush on more than one hilarious occasion). She’s met people from all walks of the industry and all walks of life— high class prostitutes who charge $600 an hour, street hookers in Vegas, porn performers in L.A.—people who might be mothers of three, or have a Masters degree from UC Berkeley. They are people who chose this line of work for various reasons, but if there’s one thing they have in common it’s that they all deliberately chose it. That isn’t to say there aren’t degrading and exploitative circumstances for sex workers. There are predatory people who lure others in with the promise of good money, but then take advantage of them financially and treat them poorly. There are “massage” parlors that charge the girls so many fees they walk out with $10 an hour, feeling like dirt. There are situations with disrespectful clients, and they have to be on guard. But there’s also a community that’s based around acceptance, and serves as a secondary family for many people who were rejected by or had to get away from their birth family. For some people there’s empowerment and freedom to make things happen that they could never otherwise afford. It can be a way to put themselves through school, or be able to spend more time with their children. We must’ve sat there for close to two hours talking about it, the ice from my drink melting into milk-tinged coffee water over and over as I drank it down to nothing. She’s privy to a world where all those puritanical taboos are swept aside—and it’s just this world, right around the corner from everything familiar. Exposure She has a hard time getting her photographs into local galleries. People assume they’re going to be all pictures of boobs (she notes the 16

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

difference between drawn boobs, which are “art,” and photographed boobs, which are “porn”). They’re better received in the urban centers. I flip through her photo book again, a high quality board-book she had printed for sale at this exhibition. It contains a collection of her favorite polaroids from her recent travels. Some are of plants and animals, some depict urban decay, and some are of the people she’s befriended. “There’s more boobs in the book than I’m allowed to show in this exhibition, actually. And that horse is naked.” We laugh at the horror. She points out details in the pictures and tells me the context. “I was with my friend at the creek. We were naked looking up at that tree.” “That one was at The Matador. The first room we walked into there were people shooting speed, so we had to get another room to shoot in.”“This one was shot at like 4:00 in the morning. I was so tired from driving, but she was like, ‘let’s take pictures with my records!’ There’s another one where she’s all spread that I really like.” The pictures are small and intimate, encapsulated like little caged birds. The train car itself adds a strange layer of context to them, this stationary thing that was meant to be in motion, a snapshot in its own way. The books will be on sale for somewhere around $30, as well as the actual framed polaroids which are one of a kind. There may also be a second, secret book, available with a wink and a nod if you ask the right people at the reception. Oh, have I not mentioned the reception yet? The photographs will be on display through the month of April, but the reception is the perfect opportunity to meet Isabel and get the stories that make each picture a piece of the world. Plus, you know, boobs.

Wish You Were Here A Polaroid Exhibition by Isabel Desler April 11, 2014, 6pm Empire Coffee, 434 Orange Street, Chico

City Platy, Country Platy I’VE LOOKED AT LIFE FROM BOTH SIDES NOW.

Mentioning the jackrabbits last article raised memories of growing up in the country. You don’t mind me going all reminiscent, do you? Schweet. Thanks! When the parental units first informed us we were moving to the country, it was a thrilling unknown proposition for us city-born kids. There’d be roads with no pavement—and animals everywhere! Animals are cute and fun! Yay animals!

The cycles of life and death were on full uncensored display Sure enough, the place we bought came pre-loaded with several types of critters (who all received names and taught me a lot about non-human life). Between them, and abundant trees for my tomboy self to get up in, this new home was heaven. We explored our property, and often other people’s too (back when you could hop a fence and usually not get shot at). The cycles of life and death were on full uncensored display, from newborn calves to half-eaten pheasant corpses and a lot in-between. Nearly every season had its own complement of fascinations: winter put ice on rain puddles—who knew it existed outside the freezer?—which was fun to slide on and shatter on the ground or over one another’s heads. Spring brought colorful wildflowers which we made up names for, and free-range mud literally as far as the eye could see. Summer wasn’t as much fun, with the crazy heat and bug bites, but it meant no school—woohoo! Autumn sorta… just was. (Guess it was something I came to appreciate over time, like good beer or period movies.) We lived about ten minutes outside of town— roughly fifteen thousand miles from anything, in little-kid terms. With puberty, that started to have an effect. Neighborhood friends either moved away or were pressed into labor on their parents’ ranches. “Townie” friends who acquired cars (which I didn’t have until after high school) came out to Bumfuck Egy—uh, the country—once or twice for the novelty of it, then claimed it was “too scary out there at

night.” Between isolation and the ugly idiocy that accompanies adolescence, we started doing stupid shit for entertainment. We’d set fire to paint cans, tease rattlesnakes, hunt black widows, and dare each other to grab hot-wire fences for fun. Everyplace I’ve lived since has been either in the city (which was a re-education in itself) or suburban. It didn’t crystallize right away, but rural life cultivated (see what I did there?) a love of nature and deep respect for natural rhythms. It’s still kind of a shot to be able to order a delivery pizza, walk to the store, or nip back home between errands. The craziest thing is that it often feels like there’s more privacy here. For all that isolation, I eventually learned that you’ve always got eyes on you in the country, even on your “private” property. (Not everyone has the stones to tease rattlesnakes or play with hot-wire, and you gotta have a hobby, I suppose…) Living alone at least once in your life teaches you a lot about yourself. Maybe living in an opposite setting to what you’re familiar with is just as important.

Consider the Platypus by Mona Treme

by logan kruidenier - logankruidenier.tumblr.com FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 17

Declare Independence!

Conducting From The Grave conducting on their own terms BY JON WILLIAMS Metal music is often a kind of musical arms race; an exhaustive, chaotic struggle to shred the fastest, slam the hardest, and play the loudest. Sacramento deathcore mob Conducting From the Grave, who are scheduled to assail the 1078 Gallery on April 11th, navigate this hostile landscape with a dynamic sound that’s almost surgical in its approach. The intrepid five-piece certainly displays skillful musicianship, but they elect to step outside of the chaos of bigger-faster-stronger with a varied, progressive angle. I talked to founding member and guitarist extraordinaire John Abernathy in preparation for the show, wherein we discussed such topics as their successful Kickstarter campaign and their songwriting process. It’s clear that you pride yourselves on having a very technical, guitaroriented songwriting approach. What informs this method? We basically try to write what we want to hear as musicians; we’re influenced by a wide variety of different metal... At the forefront of that would be lot of progressive stuff, like Between the Buried and Me, bands like that. Then there’s also the Gothenburg/Swedish type, like At The Gates and Carcass, stuff like that. So we take influence from all sorts of different stuff and… I don’t know, we don’t really think about the direction as much, just what we want to do. We’re like, “Yeah, that sounds cool,” or “Alright yeah, whatever, let’s play that”. We try to structure songs so there are verses and choruses, but we don’t limit ourselves to always being in that structure. In underground metal circles, ultra-technical death metal is often criticized as valuing flashy guitar-work over earnest songwriting. What do you have to say to such naysayers? I agree with that in a sense; I don’t think we do that necessarily, but I definitely feel like a lot of bands are all about the “look what I can do!” aspect, over actual songwriting. We always try to be about the song, but at the end of the day still put technical prowess in our music and show off little flashy guitar parts here and there. I always try to put in a little bit of structure. Your music is extremely meticulous and precise—I can’t imagine these songs were simply “jammed out” in a practice space. Is the composition process as surgical as it seems? Or is it more organic and collaborative? Yeah, the writing style on the latest album was a little bit different than the previous ones because we did most of it on a computer; more so due to logistical and geographic reasons—I wrote more of it at home on the computer because I live in Roseville, and my drummer Greg lives in Elk Grove, which is an hour drive. We practiced maybe once a week while we were writing it. It was more me structuring the stuff and coming up with ideas, and then my other guitarist, Jeff, would write riffs here and there, and we would talk about it at practice once a week. It’s a little different than the last two albums; When Legends Become Dust and Revenants were written more as a band, and we might have tried to cram more riffs than should have been in some of the songs, on the first album especially—some songs we probably could have cut to four or five minutes from six and a half. Your new self-titled album was entirely crowdsourced using the Kickstarter, rather than being funded from a record label. What kind of freedoms do you enjoy, now that you’re independant? You point out on the Kickstarter page that one of the fruits of independence is having total creative control over your music. Had this been an issue with your previous

label, Sumerian Records? Yeah, it was absolutely a problem with Sumerian. Some might view it as a problem and some might view it as a good thing, but the way I look at it, it’s our music. We’re the artists, and the label’s job is to figure out how to promote the art—NOT to tell the band how to make that art, you know? And there were certain trends they were trying to promote, like the new wave of the “djent” bands and stuff like that. So I don’t know, I always felt like the redheaded stepchild on that label because they never really gave us the support they gave to their other metal bands; they never gave us the promotion that they gave the others. Towards the end of this new album there was a lot of back-and-forth where we were sending them demos, and they were telling us to change things. For me, that was very disheartening and very demotivational. It was like, “Wow, you’re going to release this album that I don’t have 100 percent control over? I’m going to have some label telling me to change things, or else suffer no promotion?” The new album would have come out about a year and a half earlier than it did (the album came out last October) had we not been with that label. We would send them demos, and they’d take sometimes up to a month to six weeks to even get back to us with notes on them that said, “It’s pretty good, it’s getting there, but you should make this better and change this part and change that part.” You know, I just got fed up with it. Once they had the phone call with me and said they were going to let us go after this new albumwhich was the last album of our contract anyway-we were like, “Thank God!” See Sacto legends Conducting From The Grave at 1078 Gallery, April 11th! Featuring Armed For Apocalypse, Waves Of Leviathan, Emanakcuf, and Kill The Precedent. $10, showtime at 8pm. FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 19

The Wonder

THE EXHILARATION OF PERFORMANCE LEADS TO A PROLONGED EPISODE OF VULNERABILITY, AND THE LOCAL MUSIC SCENE CONJURES ANOTHER POTENT BREW

It is a lazy day. I tried my hand at stand-up comedy last night and found it uniquely exhilarating. The resulting adrenaline and alcohol kept me in a semi-conscious haze until I snapped out of it around 5:30 this morning, with the TV blaring and my feet up on the coffee table. I slept for a few hours, bathed, and cracked a James Ellroy book called Clandestine that I recently picked up at the Bookstore. A couple of beers, coffee, and water have me feeling half-human, but just barely. Performing is a rush, but it is followed by a dramatic come-down. The most vulnerable episodes I’ve ever felt followed performances, and the better the show the greater that vulnerability. Not that last night’s performance was super, but the fact that it was the first time, apart from speeches at weddings, that I’ve stood in front of a crowd with nothing to protect me but a microphone made it particularly frenetic, emotionally speaking. It was a good experience for me, though I can’t speak for those in the audience. These periods of vulnerability are probably the closest I’ve ever come to the feeling of ecstasy,

These periods of vulnerability are probably the closest I’ve ever come to the feeling of ecstasy which, opposed to a feeling of happiness or joy, is actually a feeling of complete openness and exposure to the great chaos. It is closer to terror than it is to peace. It is an understanding of everything and nothing at all, and the knowledge that life is constantly lived on the edge of a razor blade. A butterfly’s breath could knock you off or slice you in half.

On The Town 20

PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014

The neighbors up here are constantly waging a war against the environment. They spray toxins on everything they consider a

weed—from the blackberry vines that line the irrigating canals, to the grass that grows through the cracks in the sidewalk. They blow leaves and race around on riding mowers hacking away at anything remotely green. One neighbor blows leaves from August through January and constantly complains about the trees. Myself, I haven’t so much as fired up the lawnmower yet and I’m feeling content to watch the grass grow. I will have to mow some of it down at some point, if for no other reason than fire prevention, protection from burrs, and maybe also from snakes, but for now it can wait. There is always something new brewing in the Chico music scene—it’s a wonderful community to be a part of. I have had the opportunity to catch Sisterhoods™ a couple of times and I am really enjoying what Nikki Sierra and company are putting out there. It is a driving, dramatic kind of a sound the group generates and I’m looking forward to hearing more from them in the near future. The neighbor across the street just fired up his weed whacker, and now the dogs (minus Archibald the Terrorer) are going nuts. We’re still trying to wrap our brains around the reaper’s scythe taking that joyous little piece of life away from us so soon. I think the clock is approaching beer thirty.

Immaculate Infection by Bob Howard Madbob@madbob.com

Who the Hell Reads This? A WRITER IN SEARCH OF HIS AUDIENCE It’s commonplace for students of writing or public speaking to be told that knowing their audience is an important element of the communication process. Obviously, if you’re writing a piece for Convicted Felons Monthly, you’re going to make different choices than if you’re putting together a story for Blessed Be: A Magazine for Cloistered Nuns. Similarly, anyone who wants to write persuasively for an audience of Republicans would be ill-advised to use the word “asshole” to describe Ronald Reagan in the opening sentence. But, like most of the easy advice on how to write well, it ain’t easy following that prescription about knowing your audience. It’s easy to fall into that trap of assuming too much about readers, as in that old maxim that we’re likely to make an ASS out of U and ME whenever we ASS-U-ME anything. I’ve been writing this column for the Synthesis for maybe a year now, and when I sit down to fashion about 500 words for the edification of readers, I usually assume an audience of Chico State students, people young enough to be my grandchildren sitting around a pizza parlor reading this publication distractedly while waiting for their orders to come up. That’s probably a faulty assumption for two reasons: a) I almost never see young people reading things while they wait for pizza, and b) it’s much more likely they’re peering into a handheld device while ignoring the people sitting across the table from them. That’s how they roll. Or so it seems to a guy my age. I’d also assumed that the typical reader

Some people have suggested that nobody at all reads the Synthesis, but I know that’s not true based on my hate mail alone.

of the Synthesis was probably a little unconventional, young, goth-tinged, and disinclined to vote Republican. Judging from the hate mail I’ve been getting, however, it seems that either there are lots of skinhead types reading what were once considered to be marginalized alternative press publications, or else the Synthesis has getting passed around at lots of Tea Party gatherings where cranky old fascist farts spike their blood pressure by reading my words each week. Some people have suggested that nobody at all reads the Synthesis, but I know that’s not true based on my hate mail alone. Besides that, at least one of my pieces got picked up on Alternet, an online syndicate that has lots of readers who prefer not getting newsprint on their fingers, but who don’t mind swiping those same grubby digits over the face of their electronic devices a gazillion times a day. And an outfit back in New York called The Smirking Chimp picks the column up just about weekly, exposing it to an audience of left wingers who are usually more kind to it that the cranky readers who seem compelled to write in at the Synthesis website most weeks. All of which is to say I’m puzzled about just who the hell is reading this stuff. What IS the Synthesis demographic, anyway? You can’t all be Tea Party putzes, can you?

Old Crock

by Jaime O'Neill jaimeandkarenoneill@gmail.com

PHOTOS BY JESSICA SID

On The Town

FACEBOOK.COM/SYNTHESISCHICO 21

APRIL 7, 2014 BY KOZ MCKEV

Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

A huge buildup of energy takes place this week. Those who are not busy being born are busy dying. Tie up loose ends. Practice deep breathing and keep your patience while things are seemingly getting out of hand. Tuesday and Wednesday are power days for you, when the pressure will lessen and you’ll be in a flow of getting things done. Seek solutions to the things that depress you. Sunday is looking good for romance.

Trust may not seem easy when things are uncertain for you. To take things to a higher level will require some giving. Venus in the eleventh house will promote the making and meeting of good friends. Don’t take these connections for granted, especially when it comes to female friends. None of us can do it all on our own. Seek to help others who might have similar problems to your own.

When things are going well people often don’t notice. Problems are easier to focus on because they interrupt our personal intentions and desires. Your mind appears sharp, especially in the presence of others. Work with others toward making a better future. Being friendly is your gift, and no one can take that away from you. Be sensitive to family issues toward the end of the week. On Sunday, be creative.

Have mercy toward yourself and others. You’re running some stronger leadership energy these days. Monday is powerful, with the moon in your first house. You have excellent thoughts on career and public life. There is an urge to travel as well as to further your education. Be aware of your potential and put things in the direction that you would like to see them go. Maintain family business on Sunday.

You experience better luck when you try different things. Don’t get stuck. You’re in a powerful place where you are luckier than usual. The moon will be in Leo Tuesday through most of Thursday afternoon. One of the themes will be shared passions. Seek things that give you joy and lead to renewal. You too have good ideas. Putting these ideas into practice is the adventure you’re looking for.

Don’t allow other people’s poor decisions rob you of your peace of mind. Part of your success will be in letting go. Let others know what your needs are. Trying to go it alone is a big mistake at this point. Meditate and pray. Be receptive to your intuition. Magic is afoot, but only sacrifice and death of the ego will allow you to manifest its riches. Eat more fresh greens. Avoid known toxins and carcinogens.

Libra

Scorpio

Saggitarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

Invite some freshness into your relationships. You’ve been internalizing your personal goals and ambitions due to the poor timing of things. Write a letter to yourself expressing your goals and intentions. Sunday you’ll begin to feel like things are coming into balance with the moon in Libra. Don’t expect things to come easy. Conflict is part of the human condition and the more one avoids it the worse it tends to get.

Service is love. Beauty is found in giving. Tension about your work situation can turn into a blessing where you are seen as a proactive giver. You have a significant amount of creative juice surging through you. Pay-forward gifting is a friendly way to begin the week. Little things can count in big ways. Take care of your personal health. A heavier workload may mean that you need to take more time to rest and recuperate.

From self nurturing and a vivid imagination we are able to burst forward into creative action. Memories about history and art from the past can serve you well also. Can you balance a high libido with other people’s needs? You are luckier than most, while others show signs of anxiety. Be generous, patient and respectful while you deliver the goods of love, hope and exuberance.

It’s good karma to take care of your family. We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it. Be the kind of parent, sibling, or child that you would like to have. When we nurture others we end up nurturing ourselves. Show your elders that you are grateful for the help that they have given you. Balancing career needs with family needs is your current challenge. You’ll make progress on Friday and Saturday.

I like the principles of Tibetan Buddhism that say to honor all living beings. Their priests and nuns would ring a little bell to say hello to the birds, squirrels and other neighbors. Love is more than a courtesy, it’s personal power manifest in the most positive sense. Compassion is for your neighborhood. Enjoy working with your hands to create great things. Communicate effectively.

Sacrifice, at worst, can be like “it hurts to breathe.” Sacrifice at its best is giving up something you enjoy to allow others to have a better life. You can never out-give God. There are no losers in the blessing game. If this is too esoteric for you, consider valuing your reputation so much that you love being known as a giver more than a taker. The weekend will help put your values in a balanced and harmonious place.

Koz McKev is on YouTube, on cable 11 BCTV and is heard on 90.1FM KZFR Chico. Also available by appointment for personal horoscopes call (530)891-5147 or e-mail kozmickev@sunset.net

SYNTHESISWEEKLY.COM APR 7 2014