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hen I set out to write last week’s column concerning the progress made by black comedians, all the things I wanted to say about racial tension tried to squeeze their way in. Eventually the thing popped and scattered into about five different topics.

Needless to say it wasn’t going to work, so I decided to discuss the excess here before boxing the whole idea up with some lead weights and dropping it off a deep-sea tanker. ro

I was watching John Singleton’s Boyz n the Hood when this topic basically squatted in my head and refused to move. It’s a fine film, truly, one that I never pass up when I see it on cable, though it hasn’t been for some time. Then came the scene in which Lawrence Fishburne delivers a speech to his son (Cuba Gooding Jr.) and some anonymous, 40-wielding thug types from the neighborhood who gather round for the lesson. In a commanding, compelling voice, Fishburne credits whites with the destruction of South Central, arguing that they put a liquor store on every corner, a gun shop on every block, and smuggled crack into America, all with the intention of duping these black youths into killing themselves.

Now, I’m no economist, but even I know that you can’t make a buck if your clientele is dead. That’s just the beginning of why the speech is irresponsibly stupid. Let me knock out

the rest quickly: The gangsters that were killing each other weren’t exactly using registered weapons, there’s at least one liquor store on every corner where I live, and you’d have to be an ostrich to think that only blacks smoke crack. How else could you explain reality TV? In my opinion, the film gives a false sense of segregation.

The sympathetic plea to “Increase the Peace” at the conclusion of Boyz n the Hood seems at odds with Singleton’s message. If the film was written to save lives, why not warn against the idolization of rappers who’ve defined a culture by glorifying murder and vice? Better yet, if the goal were to “Increase the Peace,” why in the world would you spend the opportunity by spreading intolerance? I’m not saying that I can’t understand why one might feel the way that Singleton sought to convey; however, I think if there weren’t a wealth of material out there making us all feel alienated from each other, things could be a lot less tense.

This kind of thing vexes me beyond all articulation because I just can’t figure out why this should still be an issue where we live, and at this day in age. On top of it all, the situation is so sensitive and taboo, especially for a white person to bring up, that I’m sure more than one person will misconstrue my meaning in this article, which I intend to encourage interracial understanding. Of course there are radicals on both sides, and people of all races have had a bad experience or two, but I think that the vast majority of people in the middle are just looking to get on; and I’d say it’s about time.

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

Glory in the Bathroom

Parking Problems...Again

By Gina Shafer It doesn’t happen often but sometimes we acquire a material object that changes our lives. For me this object has been the foaming soap in the bathrooms on campus. See, I’m not a rich girl and I can’t afford an expensive school, so when we switched to the fancy foaming soap I felt special. This new soap spreads with ease across my hands much like butter on warm toast and has made the arduous task of washing my hands a delight.

Going to the bathroom has become a surreal experience where I can imagine I’m in a fancy restaurant or hotel, and that after washing my hands with the luxurious foam of the Gods, a bathroom attendant will suddenly appear and offer to powder my ass. This has yet to happen but nonetheless I can now go back to class feeling refreshed and privileged.

I’m not sure who exactly is responsible for this glorious indulgence but I assure you when and if I ever find out I will make sweet love to him. Until then I’d like to thank the administration for changing soaps and splurging on us just a little bit. I know that there are more pressing matters like over-enrollment and budget cuts, but this soap shows me just how much you care about the student body in general and my body, specifically my hands. So good work, you’re making the students happier one hand wash at a time. Next on the list: softer toilet paper. This one ply sandpaper is beginning to chafe.

By Karl Schindler Is it wrong of me to want my fellow CSULB students to have a nervous breakdown, have a major life change like a break-up with a co-habiting significant other after three years, simply drop out or better yet have a severe base jumping accident which forces them to take a leave from school indefinitely just to free up a parking space?

This semester I have vehemently refused to buy a parking pass.

I know what you must be thinking, well, you get what you deserve.

But I have always purchased one. Last semester I spent my hard earned 98 dollars on a ridiculous ”Yellow-Go-Beach-Short-BoardSurfing-Sillouetted-Pass” that I rarely used because parking was retarded. What the hell was the point?

Right now, I am on the side of the road writing this at 11:40 a.m. because I am as royally pissed as Nancy Kerrigan, post ice skate stabbing incident. My class started at 11am but I am not in my Mother Frickin’ Oceanography class because I couldn’t find a parking space not on Atherton, not on Palo Verde, not in the driveways of close neighborhoods, not even in metered parking. I’m wasting my gas circling the campus like a hawk waiting for a small marmot to die so that I may swoop. But all I find is a perky blond who has just finished her class and parked one car behind where I have been patiently hawking. The car went to the lucky-ass hawk behind me.

These are my options. One, hitch a ride with the maintenance crew in a passing Taylor Janitor golf cart (I’ll just put the brown trash can on my lap). Two, steal a State vehicle or at least remove the plates with a screw driver and gently transfer to my black Honda Civic (There are plenty of state vehicle parking spaces placed a river stone skip away every building). Three, get my motorcycle license that I’ve been wanting for two years (with a Honda 250 I can park at the mouth of the Psychology building and strut to my classes in black leather pants). Or there’s option four, have a nervous breakdown that has been induced by Parking & Transportation selling way more passes than space available.

Editors Note: This will be the final article ever printed in the Union about parking. Seriously. We understand it’s a popular complaint, but we just don’t care anymore.

Latinos: Are They the New Irish?

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Drunken, lazy, too many children, Catholic. These are stereotypes that we hear almost everyday in California to describe our brothers to the South: Mexicans and other Latin Americans. But if you were to describe a person using these stereotypes a hundred years ago you’d invariably be talking about none other than the Irish.

Juan and Miguel are the new Declan and Patrick, Gonzalez and Sanchez are the new McCormick and O’Riley. It seems that discrimination is no new game for America, the supposed land of the free. I guess it is that groups need to earn their place to be here or go through the motions of assimilation, but either way, it is clear that Americans have never really liked the newcomers, sort of like the jealousy of a youngest child when his parents bring home a new baby from the hospital.

Why did the Irish come here in the first place? Well it originally started as indentured servants, but there were never really many here until their country fell into disarray following the potato famine. So let’s look at it: the Irish came here because their country’s economy was poor, they had little political free-

dom (under the King of England or their own Catholic dominant government), and they saw America as the land where they could raise healthy children. It seems to be the same case for Latin Americans now-a-days.

Why do we have closed borders now where we once had ship upon ship flooding into Ellis Island? Some people think we have enough people, or feel that their jobs are

By Michaël Veremans threatened. Well, it doesn’t seem like we can get enough workers. The Irish used to work menial jobs for menial wages, the cooks and janitors, much like we see many Latin people doing now, especially in California. Ever see the signs that read “Irish need not apply”? We see that happening now, though more clandestine.

A big misconception that people eventually got over was the laziness of the Irish, or the Latinos. Well, anyone who has seen a Mexican immigrant first hand knows that working 60 hours a week is no sort of laziness, much like the Irish at the turn of the century. Just because they don’t spend their time and money on the same leisure pursuits as Anglos doesn’t mean that they are poor and lazy.

Irish eventually got the right to be considered “white” and I think the lesson to learn from that is we are not all different, everyone here is an immigrant (except you Native Americans). And so whether Flannery or Perez, it important to understand that people are people, and all they want is to be able to afford their children the opportunities that they didn’t have, while protecting them from poverty and ignorance.

Editor-in-Chief Patrick Dooley Managing Editors Dan Steinbacher Brian Dunning Associate Editor Natalie Vratney News Director Amanda Parsons Section Editors Opinions Michaël Veremans News Natalie Vratney Andrew Loyola Entertainment Katie Wynne Music Conor Izzett Literature Mike Guardabascio Sports J.J. Fiddler Intune Jen Perry Comics Elijah Bates Creative Arts Philip Vargas Random Reviews Patrick Dooley Grunion Pineablo Public Relations Music & Entertainment Matt Dupree Literature Mike Guardabascio Photography Editor Erin Hickey Illustration Editor Philip Vargas Advertising Representative Patrick Dooley Brian Dunning Katie Wynne Graphic Design Brian Dunning Patrick Dooley Web Design Jeff Gould Cover By Brian Dunning Distribution Mike Guardabascio Copy Editor Mike Guardabascio Natalie Vratney Erin Hickey Contributors Ray Duran, Elijah Bates, Victor Camba, Dominic McDonald, Giuliano De Pieri, Regina Cherene, Shar Higa, Kristen Preston, Jesse Gayda, Matt Taff, Sean Boulger, Casey Curran, Ryan ZumMallen, Karl Schindler, Gina Shafer, Olivia Darling, Christine Harmon, Betsy McGovern, Erin DeWitt, Chris Tsuyuki, Disclaimer and Publication Information The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding by the Associated Students, Inc. All editorials are the opinions of the writer, and are not necessarily the opinions of the Union, the A.S.I., or CSULB. All students are welcome to be a part of the Union staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, CSULB students will have precedence. All outside submissions are due by Thursday, 5PM to be considered for publishing the following week and become property of the Union. Please include name, major, class standing, and phone number for all submissions. They are subject to editing and will not be returned. Letters will be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length.

The Union will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials, and illustrations, but they must have your name and information attached for our records. Letters to the editor should be no longer than 300 words. Letters to the editor will always take precedence over prior in-house content when received. The Union Weekly assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures are available at the AS Business office.

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The Human Error Test

Why is this important?

Considering that I had to complete twelve hours of Traffic School by the twelfth of January, and the wrong month was stamped, chances are that I would have been legally screwed and my driving record would be ruined. As a result of that, my insurance would have increased and the police could have impounded my truck.

By Giuliano DePieri

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ver the winter break, I had to complete a 12-hour Traffic School. I finished the course on the eighth of January and my completion was due by the twelfth. When I turned in my certificate of completion to the local Superior Court, I had noticed the clerk erroneously stamped the ninth of February on my copy of the certificate. I immediately notified the clerk that the wrong date was stamped and a correction was quickly made.

In the Next Few Months

Sure, maybe someone in the court would notice the mistake, but how much trust can you put in someone recognizing mistakes made by another? Granted, everyone makes errors, but it is not something to be taken lightly. Sometimes an error is made that is so detrimental that someone loses their livelihood or life. We have all heard stories where someone died because the doctor or surgeon did not pay attention to details or did not read directions carefully. Worse yet, you miss out

on an event because you read the date wrong. And how many of us did horribly on an exam or failed a class because we did not follow directions or pay attention?

People aren’t perfect, and they make mistakes. But the question is how well we learn from our mistakes and are mature enough to admit when we’re wrong, or even ignorant. Also taking into consideration our own fallacies, we must learn from the mistakes and actions of others.

Not recognizing mistakes or failing to carefully follow directions can not only damages legal records, like in my case, but can also affect academic records for us college students. Our grades, GPA, and reputation be damaged simply because of failure to notice our own mistakes or the mistakes made by someone else.

We’re all guilty of making mistakes. But often times, people do not care about the errors of someone else, or their own. As a result, there can be major consequences.

As stated earlier, if I did not catch the mistake of the clerk, my driving and legal record would have been ruined and my driver’s license could have been suspended simply because of someone else’s blunder. Nevertheless, what can be something so seemingly small in the beginning can become severe and detrimental in the end. Such is the case with mistakes that can be made.

In Two, Maybe Three Years

We Will Invade Iran...

Let’s review a few simple facts regarding America’s policy towards Islamic nations who have large reserves of oil, shall we? In the 2002 State of the Union Address, Bush tagged Iraq as part of the “Axis of Evil,” and then proceeded to invade said country 11 months later. Now, in 2006, Iran is the target and Bush doesn’t even have to worry about getting reelected. Also consider Bush’s heavily ironic quote that “America is addicted to oil.” Could it be that our President is trying to prep us for a world where the war with Iran (who is a major exporter of oil) has skyrocketed the price of oil to the point where no one can afford it?

As I write this, the Danish embassy in Syria is burning, a result of more Islamic anger at a Western world who treats their fervently held beliefs as nothing more than cannon-fodder for political cartoons. This is simply another indicator that Muslim nations see our “War on Terror” as a war on Islam, and at this point, it’s not difficult to see why. If the west is going to treat all Muslims as zealotry-fueled terrorists, then why shouldn’t they act as such? Compounding the problem even more is the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who has been picking a fight with Israel for months, questioning the reality of the Holocaust as well as publicly rooting for the death of Ariel Sharon. On top of that, Hamas, a “former” terrorist organization has just gained political supremacy in Palestine. Bottom line: When, not if, Israel is attacked by a Muslim nation, America will “have no choice” but to get involved. The pieces are set, the crazy men are in power, and Rome is burning. But what did you do for the Super Bowl last Sunday?

By Dan Steinbacher

Look, Dan makes a lot of good points, but he’s very, very wrong, for this reason and this reason alone: because I said so. Now, I don’t have all the “facts” that Dan does, because my internet isn’t working and I can’t use Wikipedia to look them up. What I do know is common sense: common sense states that George W. Bush is reckless, and bad at giving speeches, but he’s not stupid, and he isn’t going to start another war immediately, because if he did, even his staunchest reporters would have to lift and eyebrow or two. We’re still cleaning up in Iraq (to say the least), and the country has neither the resources nor the mind-set to carry on another controversial war.

So here’s what I see happening––yes, we’ll go to Iran. With the amount of shit they’re pulling right now, we’d probably be there already if we hadn’t invaded Iraq. Unfortunately, if things progress the way they have been, we may not have a whole lot of choice about invading Iran, loathe as I’d be to see it happen. They’re developing nuclear weapons (and that’s their words this time, not our erroneous ones) and they’re brazen about it. They’re pushing buttons, and they’re pushing the right ones. The two questions to ask are: why are they pushing them, and how long will it be before whoever is in charge in this country decides they don’t want to put up with it anymore. I happen to think that leader, whether it’s Bush or his successor, will wait for the sting of our current conflict to subside a little.

But I wouldn’t bet any money on it.

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

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Beach Pride Tuesday Introduces Stamp Cards for Discounts

By Natalie Vratney

B

each Pride Tuesday will now take on a new gimmick: stamp cards. Along with students wearing their Beach Pride gear every Tuesday, as was done in the past, students will now have to present a stamp card to receive their 10 percent discount at most Union and Forty-niner shops. Once all 10 stamps have been accumulated, students can redeem it for a prize.

Last year, students had to wear Beach Pride related clothing and they could receive the 10 percent discount— the problem with the old system was very few vendors participated. Discounts were only given out at certain locations, most of which were never advertised to let students know where they could go.

Now with Union shops and Forty-niner shops working under the same umbrella, students can reap the most from these benefits.

“We are really excited about [having the Union and Fortyniner shops] working together, most students were not even aware that they are two separate vendors and are in some way competing,” said Chief of Staff Bobby Godina.

Godina said the main reason for changing it this year is to bring uniformity and prevent confusion as to where students can receive the discount. ASI will be making posters advertising the locations. Godina said the only two places on campus he is certain are not participating are Panda Express and Taco Bell.

One concern with the new system is that there are 15 weeks of school per semester and only 10 stamps on each card. This could result in low participation among students.

“These stamp cards are not a semester thing; they are good through summer and fall. Students can get their prize when their card is filled up and start with a new card.” Godina said.

Another concern with the new program is, rather then allowing students to get their cards stamped and discounted every time they wear their Beach Pride gear, this offer is only good on Tuesdays, giving students only one chance per week.

By Andrew J. Loyola

Students wearing CSULB attire will receive a 10 percent discount and a stamp on their card.

Photo/Erin Hickey

So, in other words, if a student started their card the second week of school (because the first week of school started on a Wednesday), they wouldn’t be eligible for a prize until the 12th.

Because of this, the project involves a great deal of commitment from students.

“We considered allowing students to get their card stamped whenever they wear their Beach Pride attire and offering 50 percent off their 10th stamp. But if a student always gets their card stamped at a Union vendor and then on the 10th stamp they go to a Forty-niner vendor, it wouldn’t be fair for the Forty-niner vendor and vice versa,” Godina said.

As for prizes, Godina said they have not yet been finalized.

Instead of giving the same kinds of prizes ASI is known to give out, like additional Beach Pride attire, Godina and his team are considering giving out a care pack like the ones that are given out during finals week. Care packs usually include pencils, pens, scantrons, and coupons. The contents of the Beach Pride care packs are still being brainstormed.

With the new the changes and ideas added, Godina and his team hope to increase the popularity and spread Beach Pride throughout CSULB.

Pageant Gets Axed

By Amanda Parsons

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

Sigma Pi Fraternity went to the Board of Control, a division of Associated Students Incorporated, last Tuesday to request $7,000, half of the BOC budget, in order to fund a Miss CSULB beauty pageant.

Funding for the event was denied.

According to William Moore, member of the BOC, the faculty, as a whole, would not support the Miss CSULB Pageant.

The event does not fulfill the aspirations and goals of the AS and the event is unnecessary because AS already has their own scholarship program.

Sigma Pi Fraternity already holds an annual beauty pageant, the Miss Greek Pageant, which all seven Greek social sororities can participate in. The Miss CSULB Pageant was designed to bring the event to a larger audience.

“Eventually we wanted it to go school wide,” Justin Todoroff, a Sigma Pi brother said. “After the school was involved we could bring it down to clubs. Like maybe having a Miss AS

Pageant and stuff like that.”

During the meeting Todoroff concluded his presentation to the board by stating that Sigma Pi members have served the AS well over the years and that they would like to get the same support from AS that they had given.

ASI Treasurer Ziara Tinoco followed

“They gave our ACE the axe.”

-Justin Todoroff Sigma Pi by saying that AS grants applications for organization’s events “based on their event’s ability to unify the student body, and not on individual merits.”

Todoroff added that the event could unify the students but did not know whether faculty or staff of the university

would want to be in attendance.

The event was planned by Sigma Pi in an effort to expand their Altruistic Campus Experience, or ACE project. According to the ACE project handbook, “The purpose is to instill pride and respect for one’s alma mater by directly performing philanthropic activities that specifically benefit the university or its faculty, staff and administration.”

“They gave our ACE the axe,” Todoroff said.

The pageant had a planned cost of $12,000 to $14,000, the total amount of the BOC budget, and would have been held in the Carpenter Center on campus. Like most pageants, the event would consist of two question/answer sessions, a talent segment, and an evening gown segment.

The winner of the pageant would have been awarded $750 in scholarship money that would be come from Sigma Pi. Other requests made at the BOC meeting last Tuesday were the request for over $135,000 in repairs needed for the Child Development Center.

It’s Week of Welcome Time

By Christine Harmon Week of Welcome, a time for organizations to let students know what they’re all about and how to get involved, takes place this week from Tuesday through Saturday at the Friendship Walk.

This semester, the event is Westernthemed, featuring events such as potato sack races, line dancing, a live performance by Angela Easterling, a free BBQ, and a basketball shoot out.

Michelle Cooper, new student orientation commissioner of ASI, coordinates the affair.

“When I was a freshman, I met a member of ASI who asked me to come out that week. As a freshman, you’re supposed to walk around, and that’s our main target: freshman and transfer students.

However, instead of walking around and being introduced to groups, I was already at the ASI barbecue helping out, and ever since I’ve been involved with Associated Students in some way,” said Cooper.

Week of Welcome, aided by food, live music, and campus giveaways, aims to introduce students to the things that go on

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Mayoral Debate Comes To CSULB

around campus outside of the classroom.

“I think it really opens the eyes of students who have the desire to get involved on campus but may not know where to go or who to talk to,” Cooper said.

Several organizations that have participated in the past have found the event to be a huge success.

“Week of Welcome has been an excellent way to advertise community service and volunteering through our organization. Each time Circle K has participated, we have had new people join the club,” said public relations chair of Circle K International, Amanda Neal.

According to Neal, last semester’s Week of Welcome brought in so many recruits for her organization that there were not enough seats for everyone at the first meeting.

A couple of issues slightly thwarting its efficiency involve time, space, and publicity, but the biggest complaint Cooper hears is the lack of tables. There are approximately 300 clubs on campus, but only 100 get to participate, due to lack of space. Cooper believes Week of Welcome will be more effective when all clubs have

the opportunity to get involved.

“Hopefully ASI will have more time in the future to plan and get other groups to participate,” Cooper said.

The greatest challenge for making the event a success is getting the word out.

Cooper hopes that by having a fun theme each time, ASI will add character to the event, making it unforgettable.

“We decided to make the theme carry through with all the events. That’s why we have line dancing this year because it’s a Western theme. This way, students will see it and remember it,” Cooper noted.

So far Cooper has received a lot of positive feedback regarding “The Beach”themed Week of Welcome from last semester. She hopes that this semester’s theme will bring even more.

Jennifer Secor, president of Delta Delta Delta sorority, sees Week of Welcome as an opportunity for everyone.

“Since many students commute and have limited time on campus, it gives each activity an equal opportunity to promote their organization to students. It also gives groups the chance to interact with each other at the same time.”

On Feb. 6 at 5 p.m. the five candidates vying for Long Beach’s mayor position, which is currently held by Beverly O’Neill, will be at the Carpenter Performing Arts Center at Cal State Long Beach.

Associated Students Inc. is sponsoring the debate between the candidates. The event will offer students and the Long Beach community a glimpse of each candidate’s background and platforms.

“We think this is the perfect opportunity to engage our students in local politics,” said Robert Godina, ASI Chief of Staff. “Many times there is a belief among students that national and state politics are more important than their local counterparts, but there are a lot of issues in Long Beach that are equally important to them.”

This is the second mayoral debate this year.

The first debate was hosted by the League of Women Voters, and topics like public safety, airport expansion, public libraries and a proposed liquefied natural gas terminal were the topics heavily discussed. Monday’s debate will be a more structured format, discussing issues close to the student community.

F. King Alexander, the newly appointed CSULB President, and AS President Jamie Pollock will host the debate. Candidates will be asked how they will approach the issues of airport expansion, improving local education and the proposed tax increases related to libraries and safety agencies.

The elections will be held on April 11, and all Long Beach residents are encouraged to register and vote. The debate is free and approximately 1,000 seats will be available.

The Candidates

Ronnie “Sidestreet” Rephan is running for mayor because he got tired of hearing residents complain about the way Long Beach is managed. His biggest concern is the young people of Long Beach. He does not want gangs shooting at each other because innocent bystanders are always the ones getting hurt.

Bob Foster offers 30 years of leadership that he gained through being president of Southern California Edison. Foster is endorsed by the Long Beach Police Officers and Firefighters because he has a responsible plan to put 100 more police officers on the streets.

Doug Drummond has previous government experience serving as Long Beach City Councilman and Vice Mayor. As a Council member, Drummond and his colleagues faced a budget crisis, but through prudent planning, they avoided fiscal disaster.

John P. Stople believes in a strong infrastructure and public safety. Stople also believes that Long Beach needs more cops and that the LNG project should not be passed.

Frank Colonna has been a resident of Long Beach for 50 years and is determined to represent the community’s interest rather than special interests. Colonna believes in making Long Beach the most environmentally responsible city in California, and wants to launch new innovative and educational after school programs.

February

11th

Sonata Arctica - Galaxy Theatre - 8

p.m. $30

7th

Dwight Yoakam - House of Blues,

College Comedy - Laugh Factory - 8 p.m. $15

Yellowcard - Avalon - 8 p.m. $20

Anaheim - 9 p.m. $56

Tatonka - Glass House - 7:30 p.m. $8

Stars, The Elected - Avalon - 8

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Hey, Intune Reader! Do you like live music?

You can either pay for the concerts below, or as a heralded writer for the Union Weekly, you can go to almost any show you want...for free. Visit the Union office for details. We’re located between the Music Listening Lounge and Planet Graphics in the University Student Union.

Dave Attell - Brea Improv - 8:30 p.m., 4 nights (16th through 19th) Bronfman and Dohnanyl - Hollywood Bowl - times vary, four nights (16th through 19th)

Il Lit, Armtrs - Echo - 8:30 p.m. $7 After Midnight Project - Key Club - 8 p.m. $10

Kathy Griffin - Orpheum Theatre Mason Jennings - Troubadour - 8 p.m. $16

17th

Mae - Biola University - 7 p.m. $12 LL Cool J

LL Cool J, Ciara - House of Blues, Sunset - 7 p.m. $50-200 Josh Gracin - House of Blues, Anaheim - 7 p.m. $20 Coldplay, Fiona Apple - Arrowhead Pond - 8 p.m. $40-80.50

RJD2, Aceyalone - El Rey - 8 p.m. $23.50

Under The Influence of Giants

Pearls and Brass - Chain Reaction - 8 p.m. $10

Opus Dai - Roxy - 8 p.m. $13.50 The Mae Shi - Troubadour - 7:30 p.m. $8

Hawthorne Heights, Atreyu, Anberlin - El Rey - 7:30 p.m.

Riverdance - Pantages - 8 p.m. $22.50-65.50, 14 shows (8th through 19th).

Vespers, Just, Friend - Plush - 7:30 p.m. $5

Allele - Whisky - 7 p.m. $10 Metal Skool - Key Club - 9 p.m. $12

My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult - El Rey - 9 p.m. $12

14th

Keller Williams - Galaxy Theatre

Buchanan - Troubadour - 8 p.m. $8

The Click Five, Big City Rock - Roxy - 9 p.m. $13.50

Bob Marley Celebration - The

Snake Milk - Chain Reaction - 7:30 p.m. $15

Social Distortion - House of Blues, Anaheim - 8:30 p.m. $25 (14th and 15th)

Coach House - 8 p.m. $15

Young Jeezy, Lil’ Wayne - Shrine Auditorium - 7 p.m. $32-97

The Fray - Troubadour - 8 p.m. $12

10th Dead Man’s Party Oingo Boingo Tribute - Galaxy Theatre - 8 p.m. $15

15th Bleeding Through, Everytime I Die, Between The Buried and Me - Avalon - 7:30 p.m. $16

Great Big Sea - El Rey - 8 p.m. $21.50

Bayside - Troubadour - 7 p.m. $10

Photek, DJ Craze, KRS-ONE House of Blues, Sunset - 12 a.m. $20-21 Charlie Murphy - Brea Improv - Show times vary, 3 nights (10th through 12th) Ozomatli - Glass House - 7:30 p.m. $22

Long Beach Shortbus - El Rey - 7 p.m. $20.50

Ariel Pink - Echo - 8:30 p.m. $8

Teena Marie - Grove of Anaheim Avenged Sevenfold

Avenged

Sevenfold - Gibson

Amphitheatre - 7:30 p.m. $25.50

Kottonmouth Kings - Key Club - 9

9th - 8 p.m. $17.50

Beach Arena - 1 p.m. $32-55

Convention Center - 7 p.m. $40-65

With All Sincerity, Orangeburg

16th Armor For Sleep - Troubadour - 7:30 p.m. $13

Bayside - Chain Reaction - 7 p.m. $10

X - House of Blues, Sunset - 9 p.m. $30-32.50

Isaac Hayes - House of Blues, Sunset - 8 p.m. $35

Ragamuffins Festival - Long

Keiko Matsuri, Jeff Lorber, G. Albright, Kirk Whalum - Long Beach

- Chain Reaction - 7:30 p.m. $10

Some Girls - Chain Reaction - 7:30 p.m. $10

Ben Harper - El Rey - 7 p.m. $35

atre - 8 p.m. $25

13th

The Drones - Echo - 7 p.m. $8-10

19th

Jeff Tweedy - Henry Fonda The-

8th

The Jakes, The Brighten, Great Glass Elevator - Plush - 8 p.m. $5

$13-15

- Comedy Store - 8 p.m.

$30-50

Brujeria, Cattle Decapitation - Galaxy Theatre - 8 p.m. $22.50-25

Sweet and Tender Hooligans, Audio Karate - Troubadour - 8 p.m.

Cathy Lewis, Vargas Mason

Surface - Rumba Room - 8 p.m.

Saint Etienne - Avalon - 8 p.m. $21.50

$10-12

- Avalon - 7 p.m. $10

12th

Armor for Sleep, Boys Night Out - Glass House - 7 p.m. $13-15

The Honorary Title, Limbeck, Koufax - Troubadour - 7:30 p.m.

p.m. $20 - 8 p.m. $18

18th

p.m. $20

- 8 p.m. $68-78

Instinct of Aggression, Suffocation - Key Club - 8 p.m. $25 A Global Threat - Showcase Theatre - 7 p.m. $12

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

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Automatic Reaction Automatic Reaction Automatic Reaction Automatic Reaction

By Sean Boulger hen seeing a band live, I expect to have a good time.

Especially if said band has songs called “Dance Party Plus” and “Disco Hades.” Not every band can bring an astounding live performance to the table, but if a fun time is had, I think the mission is accomplished. Head Automatica, the more successful (and better) side project of Glassjaw singer Daryl Palumbo infiltrated the record collections of scensters everywhere with their debut album Decadence. The disc is home to about five great songs, one absolutely miserable one (“King Caesar”), and five fun, yet forgettable ones. It doesn’t often find itself at the top of my stack, but when it does, I enjoy it for the fun, dancy romp that it is. An album as unremarkable as Decadence wouldn’t normally inspire any sort of curiosity about a band’s live show, but it’s the nature of the music, not necessarily the quality, that is the hook here.

Head Automatica’s tunes are inherently fun to listen to, and the live show proved no exception. Much like the studio album, Automatica’s live show failed to be anything close to an inspiring performance, but I definitely danced my ass of, and

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had a fantastic time doing so at Anaheim’s very own Chain Reaction. Nothing was necessarily added to the songs, and Palumbo’s vocals weren’t even spot-on the whole time. He has an annoying habit of backing off the microphone in the middle of a line; but it wasn’t the singing that made the show fun, it was the energy. Albeit a little bit sloppy, the concert was a dancing mess of energy.

When you’re a band like Head Automatica, with an album that is not bad, and a live performance that’s not great, energy is a saving grace. While the performance wasn’t fantastic, it was the energy that made the show a barrel of monkeys.

The new songs of Head Automatica’s forthcoming album, Propaganda, showed much less promise and inspiration than the ones off the debut record. Much more straightforward rock songs, and a lot less dance-oriented than their predecessors, the new songs just weren’t as much fun. But when the older songs were playing, I danced and danced…along with just about everyone around me. So while the show wasn’t the greatest I’ve seen, it just may be the most fun I’ve had since I saw the Faint.

A n t h r a x

L i v e at t h e ava l on theatre in holly wood

By Giuliano De Pieri Due to guest list complications, I waited a while to get inside. While waiting, Manntis was onstage, and because I had seen this band perform before, I figured that I was not missing much. While waiting to get inside, I had an enlightening conversation about booze with this dude and his squeeze from Chicago. Finally after waiting for an hour, my friend and I proceeded inside in time to see Sworn Enemy go onstage.

Sworn Enemy took the stage as one of few hardcore metal bands performing to a thrash metal crowd. I was impressed by this band’s performance with its mixture of old school hardcore and thrash metal. During their set, SE performed some tunes off their new release The Beginning of the End. This band did a solid forty-five minute set getting the pit going.

Next on stage was God Forbid. I saw this band open up for Cradle of Filth in 2001. I was not impressed by their set because they seemed too generic. Additionally, this gave me time to look at tramps at the bar and interview Sal Lorenzo from Sworn Enemy.

Finally came the main act of the night when New York thrashers Anthrax took the stage.

Anthrax opened their set with “Among the Living” and went into one extreme classic after the other. The audience was refreshed as Anthrax performed “Indians,” “Skeletons in the Closet,” “Metal Thrashing Mad,” “Anti-Social,” and “Caught in a Mosh.” If that wasn’t enough, Anthrax also performed the Joe Jackson cover “Got the Time.” The

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

Rufus Wainwright is more talented than just about anyone else.

By Sean Boulger It is a rare occasion that a homosexual singer/songwriter singing about lusting after an art teacher from the perspective of a young, female student causes me to have goose bumps.

Rufus Wainwright, however, achieves this feat with the greatest of ease. His plaintive, retrospective lyrics meld with his warm voice and classical piano playing beautifully, and such a combination is a regular presence in many of Wainwright’s tunes.

Son of accomplished musician Loudin Wainwright, III, Rufus Wainwright came into critical acclaim with his debut, self-titled album.

Since then, Wainwright has been exploring his talent, which is evident in his two latest efforts, Want One and Want Two. Released in 2003 and 2004, respectively, and recorded in the same sessions with producer Marius deVries, the albums represent (according to Rufus himself) a lyrical and musical introspection and growth that had not yet been seen on any of his records.

Influence obviously left over from an earlier collaboration with famed orchestral guru Van Dyke Parks has led to a richly orchestrated masterpiece.

With songs ranging from the tongue-in-cheek (pun intended) folk of “Gay Messiah” to the power pop of “Go or Go Ahead,” to the show tunes-inspired spice of “Old Whore’s Diet,” to the orchestral beauty of “Little Sister,” the Want albums cover a wide range of instrumentation.

Wainwright’s lyrics are everywhere they should be, expressing his feelings with marked poignancy. The

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most surprising selection was the obscure “Medusa.”

Along with the songs performed, the pure aggression of the moshpit was truly meant for metal-heads.

During this time in the pit, it was obvious that the smart moshpitters wore combat boots. Additionally, during the last ten minutes of Anthrax’s performance, the moshpit was total chaos in which I got tossed around but was holding onto some busty female metalhead. Chances are I could’ve asked for her number, but she was too short for me even though I’m not that tall. After hours of headbanging and thrashing, it was time to leave from the Avalon before its conversion into a dance club for lemmings to slip and slide on our puke, spit, booze and sweat.

playful beauty of “Little Sister,” and the witty “My Phone’s on Vibrate for You” (“I never feel from you anymore”) show a degree of good humor, while the poetry of “Peach Trees” and “Harvester of Hearts” exemplify Rufus’ prowess as a songsmith. Exploring everything from his homosexuality, to relationships, to his personal musings about the condition of the world around him, Wainwright leaves no stone unturned with his songwriting. Wainwright expresses wonder towards society “Oh What a World,” commenting on the increasing amount of “straight men reading fashion magazines,” giving somewhat trivial observations depth and relevance. In “Pretty Things,” Wainwright challenges those who question his tastes: “so what if I like pretty things?”

The sublime warble of Wainwright’s mournfully quiet voice permeates the music, at times acting as another instrument, making itself known for the briefest of moments as it shines in and out of the production. It embodies the aural sculpture of his lyrics perfectly, floating back and forth, murmuring into a listener’s ear as though he were telling a secret. Easily the most well-developed vibrato in modern pop music, Wainwright’s voice ascends and descends fast and frequently, blending into the atmosphere, all the while retaining the strength and power necessary to effectively carry his songs. At times quiet and low, at times loud and soaring, Wainwright’s vocal dynamics drive each song home like a chariot.

Rufus Wainwright is certainly a gift to pop music as has not been experienced in a great long time. His talent is unsurpassed by most in the music industry today, and he is one of the many artists not receiving the acclaim and notoriety he deserves. Wainwright is an incredible talent, whose music is daring and bold.

And come on…you know you wish your name was Rufus.

NEW MUSIC REVIEWS Jeff Hanson Jeff Hanson Kill Rock Stars

By Matt Dupree If I told you for certain that the voice on this record was that of a man, there is no way you’d believe me.

It’s not even a matter of gender; Jeff Hanson’s voice is simply not human.

Perhaps he’s an angel, or some sort of forest spirit, I’m not sure; but I can’t get enough of it. His understated instrumentation is varied and intricate, providing beautiful garnish to the incomparable sound of Jeff’s voice. Reading the lyric sheet is a bit like reading bad LiveJournal entries,

Bleed the Sky Paradigm in Entropy Nuclear Blast

By Jesse Gayda If you are searching for a new metal band to rock out to, then search no further; Bleed the Sky is the band you’ve been looking for. This Orange County bands’ debut is hard & heavy, fast & ferocious, and thrashy, yet melodic. You needn’t any longer be disappointed in the metal scene in these parts for this musical gift is a product from our neighbors to the south (just moments away).

The musicianship is tight all around, with precisely calculated rhythms/

but hearing them from Jeff makes them sound like Shakespeare. The album brings to mind Elliott Smith’s Roman Candle in terms of emotional punch and subtle orchestration, without sounding contrived. The Smith comparisons certainly ring true in the song “I Know Your Name” when Jeff sings, “Let them know who you are.

Hang yourself from a star.”

And while I’m on the subject, the guitar line of “Let You Out” has a striking resemblance to “Somebody That I Used to Know.”

This is really an album that has to be heard to be truly understood. Luckily, Jeff will be playing at Spaceland on February 9th, so that his acutely unique sound can be heard in person. guitar work and vocals that scream with passion (mainly against religion).

“Forgiveness is for the weak/ Throw down your broken cross/ Desire irrelevance/ Pursuit of faith is lost…” from the title track is reoccurring throughout in slightly different wording (“There is no God” from “The Martyr”, etc). The main vocals are a hearty all out scream, while layered backing vocals are more nu-metal-esque with a tinge of 311 (if you could imagine such a combo).

Agree with the message or not, the music is good, passionate, and way intense. So if that just so happens to be what you’re in the market for, then help yourself and at least check out a song or two.

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Jenny Lewis, the nymphette made famous as the frontwoman of folksy pop band Rilo Kiley, strikes out on her own with her countrified Rabbit Fur Coat released on Team Love, Saddle Creek records founder and Bright Eye’s indie wonderboy Conor Oberst’s new label. But not without a little help from her friends – fellow musicians such as Death Cab for Cutie and the Postal Service’s Ben Gibbard, Oberst, M.Ward, and the Watson twins lend their vocals, production skills, and varied musical talent for a fuller album.

In an attempt at storytelling song writing, Lewis plays it safe, relying

c al M usi

Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins Rabbit Fur Coat Team Love Records

By Chris Tsuyuki

on the trite yet endearing lyricism prevalent in Rilo Kiley’s albums. The first single “Rise Up With Fists!!!” elucidates the fear of and the fight against the choke of middle age while the slower “Melt Your Heart” showcases Lewis’ signature whisper.

“Born Secular” incorporates elements of gospel, striking an interesting contrast between music and content.

The real gem is the cover of the Traveling Wilburys’ “Handle With Care.” Stepping into the shoes of Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeffrey Lynne, Roy Orbison, and Tom Petty; Lewis, along with Gibbard, Ward, and Oberst trade off vocals and blend harmonies effortlessly.

“Rabbit Fur Coat” is sweet, charming, and poignant in its simplicity – much like its songstress, proving that while Lewis shines as the heart and soul of Rilo Kiley, she still has some growing to do.

A

s odd as it may seem, the current state of censorship in America emerged after a fateful family listening to a Prince record by Tipper Gore, wife of then-senator Al Gore. Yes, one day Mrs. Gore decided to play (without previewing) the soundtrack to Purple Rain (An R-Rated Film) to her young daughters. And now they’re all degenerates (well, no, but they do love lacrosse). The horror that Tipper experienced by subjecting her children to an album that she didn’t take a good look at beforehand was enough to set her off on a crusade to end dirty music once and for all. She got together a whole bunch of politician’s wives and pussy-whipped congress into creating the Parental Music Resource Center, which set out to put angry stickers on all dirty albums.

The reaction to the PMRC’s actions was swift and angry from the musical community.

In a landmark rarity, Frank Zappa and John Denver were united under the banner of keeping musical content unfettered. The PMRC felt the rating system was no different than that of the MPAA movie rating system.

The music industry felt otherwise. Music censorship, it was argued, was much different than movie censorship, since actors were simply playing roles whereas labeling music “unsuitable” was tantamount to labeling the artists that way. The PMRC went as far as assembling a “filthy fifteen” list, which identified the worst offending songs and what the content matter is for each. Twisted Sister, Madonna, Prince, Motley Crue and Sheena Easton all made the list for their violent or sexual matter, though no older songs were mentioned.

Recently, the rise of Wal-Mart and their family-friendly façade has given us a new

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For a band of only three, The Gossip brings a big sound. Their album Standing In The Way Of Control starts off well—a few rhythm-drenched grungy rock songs highlighted by smooth and melodic vocals.

Beth’s lyrics reveal she’s pissed at the world and not afraid to let everyone know. That’s what stands out: the unapologetic way they make music.

It’s not about making something sweet; it’s about busting a nerve.

The Gossip produces a distinctive

sound, but still covers several styles.

Half way through, they throw in a couple swanky, blues inspired songs to mix it up. The gem of the album is the track “Dark Lines,” where Brace invents excellent bass lines and Beth channels the ultra-sultry Peggy Lee. The influences are apparent—“Holy Water” pays homage to P.J. Harvey with sinister lyrics and sacrificial drums, “Eyes Open” is reminiscent of an early Joan Jett in a pump-yourfist-in-the-air kind of way.

Overall, Standing In The Way Of Control is a good time, whether your night involves sitting in a smoky jazz club or throwing up long island ice teas on the corner of Hollywood and Highland. You can’t help but dance.

method for censorship: the “Clean” album. Under this system, record labels must submit altered versions of their releases so that they can be sold on Wal-Mart shelves and receive the sizable marketshare that it controls. And as the political hellride swerves right, the FCC has jumped on the ban-wagon as well, handing out heavy fines in uncoordinated manners for the sake of looking tough for the cameras. The FCC was caught red-handed in October 2003 when it levied no fine against Oprah after a lengthy discussion of oral sex parties and rimjobs, the sort of discussion which had earned Howard Stern a stiff penalty previously.

The real demon in all of this, however, is neither censorship nor indecency. I can honestly say that there is a limit to what I would allow a child to watch or listen to, and no amount of free-speech rhetoric can dissuade me. But at the same time, it is not up to Tipper Gore, the PMRC, Wal-Mart, or the FCC to make that decision. It is the duty of the audience to take responsibility for what they listen to. If you don’t like what you hear, turn off the radio or throw the album away. But honestly, you can’t expect someone else to do it for you.

Finally, I’d like to remind everyone that as catchy and imitative as music may be, it is still only music. In the grand scheme of bad influences that may be subjected on a child, hiphop and heavy metal are about as dangerous as youth soccer. I know that I personally picked up more bad habits from friends than I ever did from Marilyn Manson. And that fateful Gore family listening to Purple Rain? Well, the three daughters present all grew up to live normal, happy lives. The other Gore child, Albert III, who was absent from the incident, is currently in substance abuse counseling stemming from drug charges.

Mis

ou

The Gossip Standing In The Way Of Control Kill Rock Stars

By Erin DeWitt

The History Of Motherfucking Censorship.

By Matt Dupree

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

NEW MUSIC REVIEWS

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literature

CELL

By Stephen King Scribner 350 Pages; $26.95 Reviewed by Mike Guardabascio The King is back, and he’s in top form with his latest novel, Cell. The premise is simple: a pulse, assumedly originated by terrorists or mad scientists (though we’re never told), charges through all the cell phones in the nation, or maybe the world. This pulse renders all who hear it utterly insane, driven by a murderous rage. That’s all fine and well for them, but the few technological stragglers who didn’t own cell phones are left to walk amongst these roaming murderers, who begin to inexplicably evolve, in strange ways, over the course of the book.

Cell is the story of a group of these stragglers, but mostly of a man named Clay, a comic book artist who struck it big just moments before the Pulse hit. He The King is back, baby

K u r t

and a few fellow survivors try to make sense of their new world, wandering around New England, searching for the fate of loved ones, and trying to figure out if the world can be put back. These characters are classic King: ordinary folks trying to make it in a definitely not-ordinary world. They are believable, and almost painfully human, an oft-overlooked hallmark of the Stephen King novel.

The plot is as good a starting point as Stephen King has worked with in a good long time, maybe as good as any ever––true to form, he doesn’t disappoint. This is King’s best non-Dark Tower novel in at least a decade, and it seems to me it could end up ranking among some of his best, like The Stand. This story shares some elements of that book, as it too is the story of a postapocalyptic nation struggling to make sense of itself.

King seems reinvigorated now, having completed his seven-part Dark Tower epic, and is doing more interviews and press than I remember him doing since before his near-fatal injury several years back. His writing is fresh, too, and reading the book, it’s easy to feel like he’s writing with a love for his story that’s been gone recently.

The flat out quality of the writing is on par with King’s usual level––it’s not Shakespeare, or Hemingway, nor is it trying to be. King is out to tell a story, and that’s what he does, with a utilitarian style: realistic dialogue, and only the most necessary amounts of description. But, as in every good Stephen King book, when he takes a shot and tries to write a beautiful line, he hits the target.

V o n n e g u t ’ s

A Required Reading

By Erin Hickey

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006 page

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read this book because Harold Bloom said not to.

It ’s Called a Breakup B e c a u s e I t ’s B r o k e n

By Greg Behrendt and Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt Broadway 288 Pages; $19.95 Reviewed by Regina Cherene Many people avoid “self-help” or relationship-themed books as a general rule, but if you have recently broken up with your boyfriend, have recently been dumped, or can’t get over the ex-boyfriend you broke up with ages ago—hell, even if it’s an ex-girlfriend, provided you don’t mind some mental gender-switching—I strongly suggest that you give It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken a try.

Dedicated to comedians Laurel and Hardy, Slapstick is, in Kurt Vonnegut’s words, the closest he will ever come to writing an autobiography. Keeping in mind that this is Vonnegut, you probably shouldn’t take this statement too literally. Set in the future, when family members have been randomly assigned by the government, New York is a toxic wasteland, and the Chinese are miniaturized to the point of invisibility, Slapstick provides a comically dismal look at what’s in store for America.

Written by Greg Behrendt, comedian and co-writer of the New York Times #1 bestseller He’s Just Not That into You, and his wife Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt, It’s Called a Breakup is a straight-talking post-breakup survival guide that echoes the humor and tough-love approach of He’s Just Not That into You. In fact, one could look at …Breakup as a sequel of sorts: you’ve realized that he’s just not that into you, so what do you do now?

There are two sections to this book: the “breakup” section, basically explaining why you should move on, and the “break-over” section, describing how to move on (in the form of seven “breakup commandments.”)

It’s Called a Breakup is chock full of no-bullshit, real-world-applicable advice and strengthened by workbook-style exercises, Q-and-A’s, and real-life breakup anecdotes, including the horror stories that led the authors to the epiphanies they’re sharing.

Dr. Wilbur Daffodil-11 Swain is born a deformed twin, bearing twelve fingers, twelve toes, and four nipples. His sister, Eliza, is equally deformed, and both bear resemblance to especially hideous Neanderthals. Disgusted, and convinced that neither twin will live past the age of fourteen, their parents conceal them from the world, visiting them only once a year—on their birthday. With an array of servants at their disposal, in a mansion full of books, Wilbur and Eliza combine their individual talents to become a self-taught super-genius, all the while maintaining their dim-witted façade. They continue living contentedly alone, until their fifteenth birthday when, in an attempt to please their parents, they reveal their true intelligence. They are promptly separated; Wilbur is sent to school because he is literate, and Eliza to an asylum for the retarded because she is not.

The First Person who comes in to tell me what language this book cover is gets a free copy. Not really.

The ending is much better than I expected it to be, too. The premise doesn’t leave a lot of easy outs, since to make it too happy would seem unrealistic and to make it too depressing would be boring, but King found a happy medium. I’ve heard people make comments about King’s endings, which do have a tendency to be cop-outs in one way or another, but this ending is solid. It isn’t amazing, but it is satisfying, and undeniably an organic, natural-feeling conclusion to the story.

Cell is definitely worth the read, especially now while its bestseller status has it dirt cheap in all the chain bookstores, and even cheaper at Ralphs.

It’s one of King’s best, and that makes it damn good––this should even be a kick in the pants for all those critics who seem to think his talent died along with his alcoholism and the 1980s.

Cell Don’t be that guy who doesn’t

Upon their separation, Wilbur and Eliza’s lives take drastically different turns. While Eliza enters a downward spiral, Wilbur graduates college, becomes a successful pediatrician, and eventually gains the United States presidency, running on an extremely unusual platform conceived by him and Eliza as children.

During Wilbur’s presidency, the United States dissolves into separate kingdoms due to a series of plagues and illnesses, and he becomes King of Manhattan. Slapstick is written in the form of his memoirs, and believe me, this article hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of the plot. This book will make you think, while satisfying you to the core.

Granted, like its colorful pint-of-ice-cream cover design, It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken is a bit cheesy (“he-tox,” anyone?). But, seriously, when you’ve just been through a breakup so bad you feel the need to read a book on how to recover, being referred to as a Superfox Breakup Warrior isn’t all that bothersome.

If you can look past the cheesiness factor (and some bad jokes), It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken can be extremely useful and empowering. It’s like your bestfriend-when-your-best-friend-isn’t-available–urging you to get off your ass and engage yourself in something productive, inculcating the idea that you CANNOT CALL HIM, encouraging you to see this breakup as an opportunity for new beginnings, and reminding you that, as the title suggests, if you and your ex were meant to be, you’d still be together.

Yes, basically imagine the ideal friend to have after a painful breakup—supportive, empathic, wise, motivational, and stern yet humorous—and that is this book.

There’s fluff, there are some bad jokes, there’s strong use of corny “go you!” vernacular, but there are also universal truths and some undeniable wisdom contained in It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken. So if your best friend is unreachable and Ben & Jerry have failed you, pick up this book.

O-lit-uary: RIP It’s been a bad 12 months for playwrights––first Arthur Miller died last February, Endesha Holland passed away on January 25th, and famed feminist playwright Wendy Wasserstein died on the 30th.

Wasserstein won a Pulitzer Prize, as well as a Tony, for her

Wendy Wasserstein

1989 work The Heidi Chronicles, the story of feminist art historian. Wasserstein, who also wrote The Sisters Rosenweig and 1997’s An American Daughter, was 55 when she died of lymphoma. She is survived by her mother, two siblings, and her six-year-old daughter.

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This week the Union is holding a smile fest! What else could be better than a festival of smiles? I sure can’t think of much. Except for maybe a cute little puppy… one with whiskers and a little mini puppy tail. That reminds me of this book that I’m working on this week (it’s a chapter book, not the kind with pictures) it’s called Shiloh and it’s about a puppy with whiskers. I don’t think Shiloh is such a great name for a puppy though, I think I’d call it Popple—

Simile Fest

Oh, Mike just told me it’s not a smile fest. It’s a sImile fest.

What’s a simile? Is it a smile you make with one eye open? Oh Mike said that would be a metaphor fest. I don’t get it. But a simile fest would be LIKE a smile you make with one eye open?

That doesn’t make one Dakota of sense if you ask me.

Well at any rate, apparently this smile fest wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It’s got a whole lot more words than happy-ness.

I think they should warn people before they name things so confuseratory. That’s why I like puppies, they aren’t confuseratory and when you scratch them in the right spot their legs waggle like a melon in summer.

A Short Story by Shar Higa By the time she finally heard it, it was really much too late. A hissing that drained and exhausted her, keeping her awake all night and restless all day as it followed her from room to room with its incessant “ssssssssssssssssss.”

She crept to the bathroom scale and discovered she had lost fiftythree pounds, and saw that her eyes were sunken and her skin puckered and loose. She realized something was really wrong. “All right then,” she said to herself, as she tried to straighten her spine but only succeeded in flopping over in the other direction. “Let’s go.”

At the hospital, Dr. Salazar took one look at her and turned bright pink. “My dear,” he whispered to her, leaning very close to her face, “are you hearing any strange noises? Feeling tired and depressed?

Are you...” and here he leaned very close indeed, so the tip of his nose rested squarely in her ear. “Are you feeling deflated?” She nodded eagerly, and he fled the room at once, calling for a surgery team. “What is it?” she asked the nurse who had been sitting in the corner of the room looking vaguely concerned. “It’s as he’d feared,” the nurse said grimly. “You’re leaking.”

When she woke up, she felt better. Marvelous in fact. She ate a small cup of pudding and guzzled a can of ginger ale enthusiastically. In the little bathroom in her room she was pleased to see that she was delightfully plump once again.

She lifted her gown to check for puckering when she noticed something quite odd: her navel, previously quite robust and, some might say, abnormally large, was completely gone.

Not a hint of it was left, just a smooth round belly undisturbed by any button of any kind. She gasped.

Then she hiccoughed.

Then she popped.

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

It’s like a contest Best Sexual Simile (Pediatric): where people submit “Babies are like coke machines, if you a sentence about shake hard enough you’ll get what you want from them.” two things that are —Matt Dupree seemingly unlike Best Sexual Simile (Hispanic): each other.

“Reaching into her panties, I found that she These people are was as wet as the back of my landscaper.” like the ones who —Brian Dunning submitted the best Best (Homo)sexual Simile: similes.

“Parents are like men in Long Beach: Best He-Man/ Incest Simile: chances are they like your brother better.”

“He-man defended Eternia from Skelator in the —Betsy McGovern same way I defended my virginity from my drunken Best Simile Putting Down the Down-trodden: uncle: for 30 minutes before learning a valuable “A homeless man on the side of the freeway was lesson about family.” holding a sign reading ‘need food to stop starving.’

—Brian Dunning He is like the Bono of the bums.”

Best Simile Concerning Happiness and Dogs: —Brian Dunning “The child’s joy was like an English Bulldog wearing Best Third Eye Blind Simile: a grandma wig and glasses whilst knitting a sweater.”

“When I’m with you I feel like I could die and that —Miles Lemaire would be all right, all right” Best Simile Insulting Our Competition: —Third Eye Blind “Full-time prostitutes are like writers for the 49er: Best Woody Allen Simile: they suck and they do it every damn day.”

“Bad sex is like a Woody Allen movie: unremark—Betsy McGovern ably confusing and awkwardly dry.”

Best Sexual Simile (Geriatric): —Matt Dupree “The old man’s naked body was as ugly as a set of Best Centenarian Simile: cheap motel drapes, but not as well-hung.”

“Grandparents are like history books that wish to die.”

—Matt Dupree —Brian Dunning

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The Bags Are Back In Town sE dit or J.J

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sports

Spor t

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he sights and sounds of spring are just around the corner and leading the way is the college baseball season— bringing with it dirty uniforms and the most identifiable sound in college athletics… PING!

So It’s Come to This...

Long Beach State opened its 2006 season last Friday with a 4-2 win over the Trojans of USC in front of 3189 fans at Blair Field. The crowd was the largest regular season crowd and the second largest overall.

Trojan pitcher Ian Kennedy pitched well, going six innings and giving up only five hits as USC took an early 2-0 lead, but then the fog rolled in.

The night started clear and crisp, but a dense fog blanketed the field during the 4th inning and gradually got thicker through the 6th. It was gone by the 7th inning stretch, but the Dirtbags had already done their damage.

With two outs in the bottom of the 6th and trailing 2-0, freshman Danny Espinosa singled to center and junior Evan Longoria singled to right. As the fog thickened, senior Sean Boatright hit Kennedy’s third pitch high into the air— and into the fog— to right field. USC right fielder Roberto Lopez flailed his arms around to call everyone off, and was still staring towards the gray sky as the ball landed at his feet. Espinosa and Longoria both scored and Boatright went to second on the throw. Up came sophomore Brandon Godfrey who also took Kennedy’s offering high in the air to right. Trojan center fielder Darin Vieira came over to help his teammate locate the can of corn, but to no avail. The ball landed behind the two and the Dirtbags took the lead, 3-2. Trojans Head Coach Mike Gillespie argued that the game should be called, but the umpire didn’t agree.

“It’s the umpire’s discretion,” said Long Beach Head Coach Mike Weathers after the game. “He didn’t think it was bad enough to call it. It’s unfortunate when you score like that.”

By Ryan ZumMallen When Kobe Bryant scored his now infamous 81, he gave the League exactly what it was looking for: a reason to coin him as Michael Jordan’s replacement. Or rather, a reason to make it OK to do so. Kobe has been taboo in recent years, and the NBA reluctantly looked elsewhere for its Golden Boy. But 81 points? That makes it acceptable to return the crown to him.

Commissioner David Stern’s policy of turning players into idols has made the Association very rich, and turned a game that was on the decline into a global phenomenon. His promotion of individual players worked when those players had great teams (Lakers, Celtics, Pistons, Bulls) accompanying them. Today’s game is driven by the search for the next idol, regardless of their place in the standings.

Promotion of individuals instead of teams has turned the game into a one-on-one contest for fortune and fame. The days of teamwork and ball movement are gone. Stern has done a good job of convincing the public that the problem lies with shoe companies, sloppy dressing and the league’s “Ghetto” attitude.

The problem lies in the upper management of the NBA. Since MJ retired, the NBA has coined nearly a dozen different players as his heir, in a frantic search for a star to ride into the 21st century. The NBA’s attitude has been individuals over teams for nearly 20 years now. It is a unique quality among the major sports.

Dirtbag starting pitcher Jared Hughes struggled in the first inning, throwing 28 pitches, walking three and falling behind 2-0 before the seats were warm.

“I was amped up before the game, and maybe I was too excited,” said Hughes. “Everything was going really fast [in the first inning]. But after that I just slowed everything down.”

Hughes and his devastating sinkerball were able to slow down the Trojans offense as well, at one point retiring 12 in a row. Hughes went six innings giving up three hits and striking out three. What made him so effective on this particular night was that during the “fog innings” Hughes only allowed one fly ball. He was all smiles after his first win of the year. “I’m just glad I wasn’t a fly ball pitcher tonight.”

THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

The Dirtbags will be on the road for most of February, competing in Coca-Cola Classic in Houston, TX. They return to Blair Field on Friday the 24th to take on IllinoisChicago.

Come out to the ballpark and support your Dirtbags. Bring a jacket, some seeds, and tie one on. It’s baseball season, baby. PING!

Attn: College Basketball Fan

Here’s some asinine thoughts offered by Dick Vitale during a recent college basketball game: “He’s such a stable presence on the court, almost like a coach on the floor. Some NBA team is going to make a HUGE mistake not drafting this kid. If he’s not one of the top 5 picks, it’s gonna be a huge travesty. He has such a complete game.”

Ignoring the travesty that Dick Vitale still breathes oxygen on this planet, let’s try and decipher together who Dick Vitale could possibly be talking about. To do so, I will merely translate his imbecilic, old white guy pidgin-speak for people still capable of rational thought.

The “stable presence” comment is innocent enough. It simply means that the player is one of Dick Vitale’s favorite players to verbally fellate, probably short (for some reason, tall players can never be stable) and that the player is probably white. But once the “coach on the floor” cliché is dropped, it is a certainty that the player is white. Okay, so that eliminates three Duke players, only 9 more to choose from.

Dick Vitale is like George Costanza. Everything he does, every utterance he makes, is completely wrong. If you listen very closely to his commentary, and then remember the polar opposite of what he said, you will become an erudite basketball fan in no time, just like how George picked up chicks when he ignored his first instinct. So, when Vitale

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And I’m supposed to believe that the NBA is in trouble because of baggy pants?

The 81-point game was what everyone had been waiting for: either a new bona-fide superstar or everyone to re-embrace Kobe. They got their wish and have already started to take advantage of the marketing opportunities, further proof that the NBA is a league of marketing, and not quality basketball.

So this is what it’s come to. A league publicly against the kind of me-first, superego superstars that it helped create. No wonder we have selfish players. It’s amazing it took this long for someone to get to 80 points in one game. They wonder why there is no team play, and shower praise upon someone who took 46 shots in one game. No wonder we’re having trouble getting players to join Team USA, and when they do we complain that they don’t play together! The NBA created that mentality!

I’m not blaming Kobe, he is simply a product of the deceptive NBA juggernaut. Sad, really, but this is the reality, and its time we stopped fooling ourselves and started giving the blame to those who truly deserve it.

By Casey Curran

pontificates on a prospect’s chances in the NBA, it is a certainty that the player will be a bust on a Sam Bowie-like plateau. So our mystery player is being hyped for the NBA, but is in actuality garbage. Yeah, you probably know who I’m writing about, but let’s go to the last clue, just to be sure.

The Vitale corollary defined in the preceding paragraph still applies to his final statement. If said subject is described as having a complete game, said subject in fact is decidedly one-dimensional and without NBA talent. The alarms should be blaring, and the claxons should be clanging.

Our mystery player is none other than JJ Redick. Never heard of him? You must not read the sports pages, because there have been about 8,000 articles written about him and his life-partner Halo 2 buddy, Adam Morrison—by the way, also equally in need of skewering.

They go something like this. “JJ is GREAT. He plays a video game with a pederast from Washington, and he doesn’t steal laptops. Isn’t that AWESOME! He loves to write poetry, and cure lepers while he’s not winning national player of the year awards.”

I think JJ Redick is a very good college basketball player; I sincerely mean that as a compliment. But he lacks a complete game. No, let me rephrase. All he can do is shoot

the college three, run off illegal picks that go uncalled solely because he plays for Duke, and flop in the lane if a defender has the audacity to even caress his body with contact. He cannot pass, he cannot defend, he cannot rebound and if there’s anything else that doesn’t involve shooting or bitching to refs, he can’t do that either.

Shall we evaluate his pro prospects? The easiest thing to do would be to compare him to a current player who resembles his game, but I seem to be having trouble coming up with 6’0” white shooting guard that I can dunk better than. My esteemed editor, Jeffrey Fiddler II, says JJ is in the mold of Kirk Hinrich. I say to FiddTV, lay off the Tooter McGavin. Kirk Hinrich is a point guard capable of distributing the ball and hitting shots off the dribble. Redick is averaging 2.4 assists this season, and can only shoot it off picks, because he’s a hobbit and not quick enough to create his own shot. I say he’s a cross between Mark Madsen and Mateen Cleaves, but without the bench cheerleading abilities of either. That or Mike Penberthy.

Redick is one of those guys who’s easy to hate, and I do hate him, but I want to stop the vitriol now, and acknowledge three players toiling anonymously because they’re not prettyboys who are protected by the refs. Shelden Williams, though you look like an extraterrestrial, you are a man who protects his paint and you will be rewarded handsomely in the NBA. Randy Foye, you are a complete player who will lead Villanova deep into the tournament. Marcus Williams, though you are a thief off the court as well as on it, you are the key to a UConn championship run. Get the ball to Rudy Gay and good things will happen.

JJ, you are a bum and I look forward to your return to the Duke bench after you wash out of the NBA three years hence. Wojo, keep his seat warm.

Tell Casey he’s crazy at: fiddler17fb@hotmail.com

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13 THE LONG BEACH UNION WEEKLY F THE STUDENTS’ NEWSPAPER F 6 FEBRUARY 2006

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United Nations Calls Intervention Over America’s “Oil Addiction”

L

ast Friday the United Nations came together at the century’s first global intervention to publicly address the United States’ devastating addiction to oil. France, who first noticed America’s crude dependency, proposed the meeting during the fall of last year when America went missing for seven straight days and reemerged in a gutter in South Africa.

before the group. “We have been der before and we know, kay?

What you need right now is your amigos and your family.”

“Oui, it twas very bad indeed. Zee Emerica waz out of control and zer waz nah-zing we could do,” France confessed to the UN. “It waz like zeeing a berd fly into ah vindow over and over again, or somezing. Oui, very sad. Zer was black all over zer face and in zer teeth. Tsk, tsk Emerica. ”

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MY GOD, THIS PAGE HAS FREAKIN’ BRIEFS!!!

Bush Claims That “America Is Also Addicted to Boots” WASHINGTON D.C. – In his address to the nation last week, President Bush claimed that American women have recently become too dependant on boots for fashion, citing that an alternative source of footwear will be necessary in order for the country to continue thriving in a prosperous, economic foot-state. “We have a serious problem here,” explained Bush. “America is addicted to boots. For years, our ladies an’ our women have relied on Uggs to fuel their coolness. But now, we as a people have hit a crickital point and can no longer rely on foreigners for fashionable footwear.

Boots are getting’ out of control, lookin’ more like g’loshes or ‘Laskan waffle stompers than normal American shoes. And even as much as I love a good g’losh, it has become common place for ord’nary Americans to spend more and more moneys on this evil.” Bush was immediately criticized upon completion of the speech, as he himself was wearing a pair of fake Uggs, or fuggs, during the address. However, he was simultaneously praised for his new Sandal Plan, which intends to “saw off the corns of deceit” by dipping into the U.S. surplus of flip-flops at Big Lots and Rite Aid.

Groundhog God Dooms World to Six More Weeks of Winter PUNXSUTAWNEY – Devastating news today from on high Mt. Olympus. The God of Weather, a groundhog named Punxsutawney Phil, from the Greek “Punxsutawney” for “be-

nevolent,” and “Phil,” Greek for “rat-like loaf of bread,” has decreed that harsh, cold winter will remain for an additional six weeks. The news was delivered to a fearful crowd by the oracle Bill Deeley. “The great God Punxsutawney Phil has decided to punish you,” he said in a deep trance, “because of humanity’s impunity, because you have sworn allegiance to Hedgehog––LOVE NOT THE HEDGEHOG, ONLY GROUNDHOG!”

Failed Attempts At Suicide Tops the List in Recent Poll of Biggest Embarassments JERSEY SHORE – In a recent survey, the inability to kill oneself on a first attempt was named the most embarrassing thing that could possibly happen to a person. “Honestly,” exclaimed hapless street vendor Donald McMahon, “If you can’t get the job done on your first try, you deserve to suffer the worst humiliation life has to offer. I mean, how hard is it to kill yourself?” Suicide failure was followed closely by the act of saying a racial slur to someone mistakenly thought to be a friend, falling down a crowded stairway while dolled up like a stuckup whore, and getting caught masturbating to a paused stripper scene from Under Siege by an elderly grandparent. “Seriously though!” contended McMahon. “Jump off of a bridge, walk in front of a train, eat Hawaiian barbeque…the list goes on and on. Trust me, if you just try to hang yourself with razor sharp piano wire, you’ll get the job done, first try, everytime.”

Other reports of the nation’s problem came from Australia ,who witnessed America siphoning oil out of an abandoned Subaru Impreza on an outback roadway. Two Aussies later claimed that they “found the U.S. passed out in a kangaroo pouch,” but America maintains that they were in talks with China that afternoon. Many other nations spoke in hopes that America would agree to enter a rehab program based on the introduction to solar energy in an exclusive Bahaman day spa.

“America, everyone is here to help you, kay,” Columbia pleaded

Once the member states had an opportunity to recall their experiences with America’s destructive behavior, the accused took the floor. First assuring the group that they appreciated its concern, America then claimed that they, “have no addiction at all” and that they “can quit anytime they want to.” Furthermore, the nation then argued, “I am not the one with the problem here.

It’s all of you. You all want me to change the way I am! Well, nobody’s perfect, alright?”

The meeting broke for recess after America left the room crying. After two hours had passed, member nations went on a full-scale search of the premises and it was later reported that America was found in a lobby bathroom with a seal, a duck, and a bottlenose dolphin covered in oil.

Above: “America, I’m not saying we all don’t have a problem.

We obviously do. But at this point, you’re really making the rest of us uncomfortable. Help us help you. Please.”

“They made me do it!” America exclaimed. “The duck was like, ‘ooooohhhh, I want me some of that there oil’ and I was like, ‘no duck we better not…I can quit anytime I want to DAMMIT!” The United Nations immediately contacted the International Criminal Court and the United States has been sentenced to ten years in solitary confinement with no chance of early release.

Oprah Tells Christ He “Betrayed” Readers In a stunning switch from dismissive to disgusted, Oprah Winfrey took on one of her chosen deities, Jesus Christ, accusing him on live television of lying about The Bible and letting down the many fans of his memoir of addiction and crucifixion.

“I feel duped,” she said Thursday on her syndicated talk show. “But more importantly, I feel that you betrayed billions of readers.”

The validity of Christ’s story of addiction and crucifixion recently made headlines when the website the SmokingStake.com revealed that many of the “miracles” Christ performed while attempting to kick his habit were falsified. Of the actions in ques-

tion, Christ claimed that the time between his crucifixion and resurrection was three days, while the Smoking Stake claimed they have documentation that it was closer to 30 seconds.

“From what we can tell, it looks as if Christ had actually only fainted. His crucifiers meant the entire ordeal as a practical joke, and told Christ it was three days later when he regained consciousness. Christ seemingly forgot this fact when telling his gospel, as well as the fact that he soiled himself while on the cross.”

A sometimes angry, sometimes tearful Winfrey asked Christ why he “felt the need to lie.” Audience members often groaned and gasped at Christ’s halting, stuttering admissions that certain facts and characters had been “altered” but the essence of his gospel was real.

“I don’t think it is a novel,” Christ said of the text, which had initially been offered to publishers, and rejected by many, as fiction. “I still think it’s a gospel.”

Two thousand years ago, Christ stepped up as publishing’s latest and baddest bad boy, with tattooed initials on his arm – “FTBSWWJD” – bearing a defiant and unprintable message. Winfrey’s selection made his book a billion seller and Christ a hero to many who believed his suffering was theirs.

Above: “Forgive me, Jesus, for the blasphemy I have printed on this page. I’m just trying to uphold our Constituional Rights of Freedom of Speech and Freedom of the Press.” - Pineablo “In order to get through the experience of the addiction, I thought of myself as being tougher than I was and badder than I was, and it helped me cope,” Christ said Thursday on Winfrey’s show. “And when I was writing the gospel, instead of being as introspective as I should have been, I clung to that image. But looking back… I don’t think I would change one thing. Not one.”

Christ’s career will likely never recover, although so far he has not suffered for sales. His book, a billion seller thanks to Winfrey, remained the top seller on ChristianBook.com. A second memoir, My Dad God, was in the top 2.

Christ seemed to take the accusations in full stride, promising Winfrey he “will pray for [her] soul and the souls of others.”

When asked if he would once again die for the sins of his readers, Christ laughingly responded, “I was younger then. I don’t know if this old body could take it one more time. Plus I have a wife and child to look after. I don’t know how much they’d like me doing that.”

and space and as such have molded this universe in our own image. Any and all outrage that you may feel towards this page during the course of reading it has been designed and designated to you eons before your pathetic excuse for a galaxy was even a glimmer in the Pineabbloman’s eye. Submit and enjoy.

Disclaimer: God does not play dice with the cosmos; however, The Grunion has no such qualms. We alone spurted the Milky Way onto the sweat soaked back of the universe with no regard for its cos-

mic needs. We alone have sucked and slurped entire solar systems into our Black Holes. We alone (along with the help of your moms and sisters) drunkenly participated in the Big Bang. Therefore, it is erroneous to believe that we would yield to your pitiful pleas for mercy. We are Grunion and we are many. However, we are not so many that we are involved, in any way, with CSULB, ASI, The Intergalactic Rebel Alliance, The United Federation of Planets or anyone else. We were birthed beyond such a thing as time

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