THE CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY LONG BEACH STUDENTS’ MAGAZINE
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BOB HURT
A CLOSER LOOK AT LONG BEACH’S MOST RECOGNIZABLE FORGOTTEN SON
LUDACRIS ST. VINCENT BE KIND REWIND DIRTBAGS PREVIEW AND SHOPPING AT IMONNI
ISSUE 62.5 RYAN KOBANE Editor-In-Chief ERIN HICKEY Managing Editor MIKE PALLOTTA Associate Editor MATT DUPREE Associate Editor RYAN KOBANE Business Manager VINCENT GIRIMONTE News Director KATHY MIRANDA Opinions Editor RYAN ZUMMALLEN Sports Editor VICTOR CAMBA Comics Editor KATIE REINMAN Creative Arts Editor EARL GREY Grunion Editor ERIN HICKEY Literature Editor & PR MIKE PALLOTTA Entertainment Editor SEAN BOULGER Music Editor & PR RACHEL RUFRANO Culture Editor RYAN KOBANE Photography Director STEVEN CAREY Art Director
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vince@lbunion.com kathy@lbunion.com zummy@lbunion.com victor@lbunion.com reinman@lbunion.com earlgrey@lbunion.com erin@lbunion.com beef@lbunion.com sean@lbunion.com rachel@lbunion.com
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
R
RYAN KOBANE
ethink, revamp and redesign how you see the world of college newspapers. This has been our goal for the last three months here at the Union Weekly. The question that needed to be asked several times over was how? How can we use every ounce of creativity and talent that we have in this office to accomplish this task? How can we make a difference on this campus? How can we tell our stories, our experiences, and our opinions with you the reader in a manner that breeds thoughts and perhaps action on your end? How can we compel you to take us home with you and share our views with others? How can we make you care? Despite what we may have told you in the past this campus is not impregnable. There is a reason to believe that there are certain spots on this campus that have a beating
heart that cares about you past your semesterly dues. We are students too, and just like you, we are in search of ourselves and our place in this world. Every single one of us feels lucky that we just happened to find our spot (on this very campus) where others share our passion for expression. We spend hours making sure that everything lines up, that pictures are crisp and that our words make sense (most of the time). We don’t do this for ourselves, we do this for you, so please do not scoff at our attempt to show you our best every week. We are in this office for one reason and one reason only: to see people on this campus enjoy what we produce. We feel it only fair to share some of this joy that we incur while making this paper, with you, but we hope that you already knew all this. With every issue of the Union Weekly we have a message to send: “We are a college publication with a new point of view and a new direction.” To sit in our office and naively persist staying the course and to continue producing a medium that is undoubtedly dying would be irresponsible on our part. On a daily basis you
are forced to grow with the times, and thus we must follow suit. Simply stated, we here at the Union Weekly want to enrich your stay here. There is no better feeling than observing someone reading our paper and reacting. Whether it’s in the form of a genuine laugh in the middle of a lecture or with a passionate, “NO!” and a quick toss to the ground, at least you chose to give us a chance. So take a look and see for yourself; from the completely overhauled design to the new columns and pages, we did this for you in hopes to inspire change throughout CSULB. The past thirty years certainly have been a trial by fire for this paper, and here we are adding fuel to the flame. Don’t be afraid of change, try and look past the new glossy cover and stellar layout and see that the essence of this paper hasn’t changed a bit in thirty years. So, the Union Weekly is choosing a new path, and we are inviting you to come on this journey with us. Will you buy into what we’ve given you? Perhaps, but if not, there’s always next week.
steven@bunion.com
ERIN HICKEY, MATT DUPREE, MIKE PALLOTTA
Copy Editors
RYAN KOBANE Advertising Representative ryan@lbunion.com CHRIS BARRETT science@lbunion.com Internet Caregiver PHILIP VARGAS On-Campus Distribution VINCENT GIRIMONTE Off-Campus Distribution DARREN DAVIS, MILES LEMAIRE, CHRIS BARRETT, ANDREW WILSON, CHRISTINE HODINH, JESSE BLAKE, DEREK CROSSLEY, CHRISTOPHER TROUTMAN, JASON OPPLIGER, CYNTHIA ROMANOWSKI, JAMES KISLINGBURY, PHILIP VARGAS, DAVID FAULK, PAUL HOVLAND, KATRINA SAWHNEY, ALLAN STEINER, BRANDI PEREZ, SERGIO ASCENCIO, RUSSELL SONROY, TESSAH SCHOENROCK, KEN C., JOSEPH BRYANT, BRIAN NEWHARD, ERIC BRYAN, WESLEY CHUNG, LEAH MCKISSOCK.
Contributors
Disclaimer and Publication Information
The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of the writer, and are not necessarily the opinions of the Union Weekly, the ASI, or of CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, CSULB students will have precedence. All outside submissions are due by Thursday, 5 PM to be considered for publishing the following week and become property of the Union Weekly. 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 Weekly 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 500 words. The Union Weekly assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures are available in the Associated Students business office. Questions? Comments? MAIL : 1212 Bellflower Blvd. Suite 256A, Long Beach, CA 90815 PHONE : 562.985.4867 FAX : 562.985.5684 E-MAIL : info@lbunion.com WEB : www.lbunion.com
LETTER FROM THE ART DIRECTOR STEVEN CAREY “The child is grown, the dream is gone.” Waters’s lyrics seemed to drip out the speaker and slip to the floor. It must have been about 2:18 AM on a Saturday night, two weeks before winter finals, a light mist hanging outside, a brooding tension in the office, and Pink Floyd playing soft in the background. Yes, be it due to fatigue, laziness, or pure frustration, I remember very well the first night that I allowed the appearance of the Union Weekly to falter. I, like many staff members and readers alike, had lost any sort of connection to the paper and our campus. And by Monday, looking at possibly the most unimaginative cover since Metallica’s black album, I knew something needed to change; easing into a simple routine of mediocrity, the Union Weekly, like Waters, had become comfortably numb. My goal with this redesign has been to reignite the passion in this publication, not only in its staff but in its readers. And already I can see that it is working. Whiteboards are filled with ideas and people are excited again about the Union Weekly. By updating the format a new sense of pride has taken over and I predict that the writing and design will feed off each other, growing exponentially better. That’s not to say it was easy. Ryan Kobane and I, with the criticism and encouragement of almost every editor, have spent countless hours poring over ideas, logos, elements, font-faces and all the details that go into making a unified product. My hope is that our decisions will speak for themselves. However, having altered a product with a decades-long history, I believe that some sort of explanation may be necessary. As I have been told by numerous editors before me, the “exclamation mark” Union Weekly logo is well known on
campus. Introduced only a few semesters ago, it already has branded the paper via its consistent application on our covers, distribution boxes, and even our office window. And so a redesign of the logo was met with some trepidation. So, instead of disregarding its predecessor completely, the new logo respects the brand and the hard work of previous editors. It is, however, sleeker, more modern, and plays much stronger off the theme of union. The connections between letters suggest that unity between students that our campus is so constantly striving for. In trying to design a look for the magazine, some theme to integrate that unity throughout each page, I had to examine what purpose the Union Weekly serves. I’ve seen people reading the paper before class, chuckling at the Grunion in our halls, and, infrequently, preferring its pages to the unrelenting drone of MTV-U. That was when I realized that above all things the Union Weekly provides entertainment, a break, if only a small one, from the bustle of campus-life. And where else can a person feel more at one with the people around them than while being entertained? Laughing in a movie, shouting out your favorite lyrics at a concert, cheering as your team scores that final point before the buzzer, these are all situations where, no matter who the person next to you is, we can have a strong connection to one another. And that is why when looking at our new format you may notice elements reminiscent of a ticket, as if in some way the Union Weekly is your admission, your chance to connect with common student voice. We hope that whatever you’re looking for you’ll find something to bide the time within our pages. And, just maybe, while you’re reading this in class, you’ll look up to see your fellow student reading the same page and chuckle quietly to yourself in that small instant of realizing that fantastic connection, that union. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
OPINIONS THE STATE OF AMERICAN CONSUMERISM THE HEARTBREAKING TRUTH ABOUT YOUR SPENDING HABITS KATHY MIRANDA
T
here’s an irony in the way we Americans reward ourselves for their efforts. We work 9 to 5 jobs, serving coffee, filing papers, and we assume this will all pay off in the end. The month will pass and a check in an amount that hardly justifies our efforts will be signed to our name. And what do we Americans do? What we do best, of course. We shop. We peruse the aisles of the local record shop, the nearest Macy’s, or in my case, the shoe store, and we pick the perfect product to make ourselves happy, or so we believe. The pursuit of individual happiness has taken the wrong turn, that is, toward the mall. They say you are what you eat, but from an American consumer perspective, you are what you buy. In the land of opportunity, you buy something expensive and you say why not? I worked 40 hours a week, I deserve this—you also figure, it’s worth it. However, in a recent study released by The Journal of Consumer Research, scientists have found that there is a causal relationship between low self-esteem and materialism. The study revealed that an increase in materialism directly causes a decrease in self-esteem and vice-versa. Having said that, perhaps you didn’t really need those $200 jeans, or those fancy pair of
WHERE DO YOU WANT IT?
THE ROLE OF CUMSHOTS IN THE BEDROOM STEVEN CAREY
Illustraion ANDREW WILSON
We just can’t look away. Like a fatal wreck, all twisted metal and blood on the freeway, the cum shot, and in particular the facial, carries an air of the unusual and some primal urge within compels us to watch. It has become a staple in modern pornography, a toe curling, teeth clenching end to nearly every hardcore film. But to what extent is this behavior acceptable? While watching hundreds of women, their contorted mouths and hard clenched eyelids, we must ask one question: where is the line between actual sex and fantasy drawn? The cum shot has been around for decades. Since the 60s men have been squeezing out their dollops of Daisy on the backs, asses, breasts and abs of women and not without reason. Every successful film needs some sort of rising and falling action and, of course, a climax. A sort of visual cue, the cum shot has acted as a last call to viewers to close their tab; when they UNION WEEKLY
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glasses, did you? At this rate, the faster materialism among us increases, the more we are going to turn to money to solve all of our problems. But as soon as we lose all of our hard-earned money (the money we thought we were spending on things we needed), up shoots the depression rate, which has already affected 25% percent of Americans, according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH). Here we are faced with irony: we have more wealth now than at any other time in our history and yet 1 in 4 Americans will suffer from mental depression (NIMH). Sure, this isn’t a groundbreaking discovery. It’s a natural instinct to attempt to make yourself feel better, however superficial or unhealthy your solution may be. But the rise in materialism isn’t just making us feel like shit, it’s allowing the corporations to dictate what Americans should feel like, what we should look like, and what we should own. It’s creating a trend among ad agencys across the country, those who are being paid by these selfish, money-hungry capitalists, to advertise a picture of America that is unnerving, and immensely self-destructive. And if nothing else, the ads themselves are the evidence. The ads depict glamour and fame, they work to offer you a life that you never dreamed of, in fact that may even be their slogan. Women’s magazines scream
thin, thin, thin, they encourage diets that aren’t good for you and alternatives that involve dangerous risks. They use celebrities to entice you to buy their product, suggesting that you too can live like a movie star. We can’t blame them, they want to sell a product. But we must ask ourselves, in what way will we as indivduals grow from this purchase? How, in the long-term perspective will this designer brand, this shiny, beautfiul piece of consumer good make us happy? It won’t, and I am proof of that. I have over 40 pairs of shoes, I buy those same magazines, I own expensive furniture, expensive jeans, I walk to the cafe and buy my coffee when I can easily make my own and yes, these things, very temporarily, get me excited. Don’t call me a hypocrite because we’re all guilty of it. The difference is I don’t look for my happiness in a Marc Jacobs bag or peeptoe pumps, and I don’t think a new dress will make me feel any more beautiful or sexy. I find happiness in people, which admittedly can be difficult in our country. I find it in my family and friends, in my accomplishments—I find my happiness in things that don’t have a price tag, and that is what the rest of the country needs to figure out. Happiness is not a luxury, it isn’t something you buy, and it sure as hell isn’t something you let corporations define for you. As trite as it sounds, happiness is what you make of it—it’s really your decision.
sense its ever quickening approach they know it’s time to wrap it up or press rewind. Without this powerful climactic image even a well-made porn, like spending ten dollars to watch The Matrix II, can be unsatisfying leaving viewers wondering, “Is that it?” It was only recently however, around the mid-90s or so, that the facial became the prominent expression of this prize in the Cracker-Jack box of self-pleasure. There are several theories that try to account for this new development in hardcore erotica. Prominent adult-film star Bill Margold has stated that the act, as shown on screen, is a sort of “revenge exacted upon the cheerleader by X-number of men who could not get that cheerleader.” Many feminist critics have scorned the act however as a misogynistic expression of degradation and oppression of women. And it is easy to see the validity of this critique in the twisted grins and feigned moans of countless starlets. Despite the moral uncertainty however this type of behavior has become somewhat commonplace and is, to many, considered the snow-capped peak of sexual pleasure so much so that is has begun to seep, if only slightly at first, into the satin sheets of otherwise conservative sexual relationships. Via constant exposure, if only under the wavy surface of the subconscious, avid porn connoisseurs, like Pavlov’s dogs, yearn to express this fantasy on their partner. Like children begging for their mother’s homemade dumplings, men ache to see those soggy balls of dough swimming in thick broth.
I can only assume that this is the result of the ever more complex dynamic between men and women, some hopeless attempt to please the other while at the same time imposing some degree of control over them. Men’s control over women in this situation is obvious; the very act turns a human being into an object. Like a buck marking its tree a man sows his seed in the furrows of his partner’s face, the fantastic act claiming her as his own. And any woman who submits herself to this, and again I am only assuming, may be doing so as a concession, a bargaining chip of sorts so that she may act out one of her own fantasies on him. However, in a worse case scenario she may hope that submitting to her partner’s wishes will satisfy him to stay with her. It is only then, when sex ceases to be pleasurable, that we can see the core dilemma surrounding the facial. I have personally only been in a handful of situations where a woman was willing to submit herself in this way and I must say that I found the more I entertained the thought the more I was repelled by it. I like Jackson Pollack as much as the next guy. But, surprising as it may be, under my thin veil of sexism I do respect women, their bodies, and their personal boundaries. I prefer an assertive woman, someone with conviction, and somehow the image of a pure, gentle face painted like a crumpling Cinnabon pastry doesn’t align itself with my idea of an ideal partner. The cum shot has its place on small, well-lit soundstages in Burbank. But let’s leave it there.
The best days on tour are the rare days where you are lost in America with nothing to do but try to slay the boredom. We were young, dumb and in Santa Cruz. We’d already handled The South and decapitated a cactus on our way back through the desert. We got there in the afternoon met up with some friends we had in town, threw our bags in a girl’s dorm room and headed out. We ate platefuls of Indian food for five dollars. We walked through the campus in drizzling rain. We talked to girls, gave dirty looks to boys and found a place that serves vegan chili. As the night came we headed out to a show, at the same venue we would be playing the next night. Kids we knew from all over the country were there, representing both coasts and plenty of states inbetween. The music was loud, bodies sweated in the heat of it all. We left looking for strangers and good times —maybe a pretty face or two. Those that were drinking got drunk and we heard about a party. It was a two story house and we heard it from the street. We walked in knowing we didn’t fit in, pushing past bodies that definitely didn’t like us, that didn’t want us there, we walked into the kitchen. Standing in front of the refrigerator, door open, was a kid pissing all over the produce inside. It steamed as it hit the cold plastic. He looked up and said,“Hello.” It happened to be a kid I went to high school with. He finished pissing and I avoided shaking his hand. We went into the other room and found a girl asleep on a couch. They jumped up and down on her back, but she didn’t wake up. Her purse went with us. We had words with a few people inside. It was their party and they didn’t like us. We grabbed another purse and headed out. On the way we grabbed a couple of their surfboards and threw it all in the van. We went to another party. They definitely didn’t like us either. We weren’t welcome. Our dirty, black clothes were a warning to them that we were different. There were a few confrontations, some clenched fists and macho talk, but we moved on after lightening their load of a few more plastic cards. We drove to a late night diner. We parked the van and saw some friends from Boston talking to a loaded, frat-boy. He yelled something and took a step towards them. A fist caught him in the eye and he crumbled. Asics, Nikes, and New Balances descended on him as we walked over. He got up and ran into a cop, knocking the coffee out of his hand. He blathered at the officer and tried to rush us. He got popped again in the mouth and fell down. The cop walked forward and the kid swung at him. The cop sunk his baton into the kid’s stomach doubling him over, then knocked him to the ground. He cuffed him as we walked inside. We ordered six-hundred-dollars of vegan food, to go, and left a thousand-dollar tip on a borrowed card. We cruised back to the dorms sipping on vegan shakes, stuffing our faces. We didn’t play that night. Our instruments were silent. But we did kill time, murder our boredom, fill the void that is left by not being on stage. We sucked the city dry waiting for a chance to play. Because were trying to slay the idleness—by any means necessary.
DEREK CROSSLEY
WAITING FOR THE SUCK YOU’RE UPSET, BUT BY NO MEANS TOO UPSET VINCENT GIRIMONTE
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ntrinsic to Presidential elections is the anticipation of perfection; we put faith in other humans to right the wrongs of the previous leader as if they’re somehow immune to the machine of human deficiency. We watch their speeches and compare them to previous deities like Kennedy and Ronald Reagan. They promise change in return so we don’t have to think about lifting that finger apparently so burdened by hardships of recent years. Barack Obama, Hilary Clinton, John McCain, and Mitt Romney; we treat these people like Christians treat Jesus, and like Christians, we’re willing to believe. Our despondency is laughable and beginning to define our generation. On what grounds should we remain optimistic of our future president when we elect the very same politicians that continue to fail us? There has to be some accountability from the citizenry—the blunders committed by those in power are a reflection of not only their incompetence, but of our idle tendencies as Americans. Furthermore, if we’re so appalled with the current state of affairs, then why do we continue to wait for the brass-balled leader to bring justice when it is supposedly our responsibility to attain it at any cost? It seems like the only time we reference the intentions of our founding fathers is in defense of purchasing an Uzi. The truth is black and white: you’re either willing to do something or willing to wait. Count me in with regards to this time around possibly being different. Obama and Clinton are both qualified and inspiring in their own ways, and to be honest, I would trust both in the White House. But I’m cautious in my enthusiasm towards any single person, especially in Washington’s modern layout. Convenient as it may be to put President Bush on an island with his missteps, it takes votes from Congress to fund the war and The Supreme Court has the ultimate yay or nay on whether that night will ruin your life or not—think of our government as Cerberus, the mythical three-headed dog slobbering at the gates of the Underworld. Like Bush is only part of this monster, the next president can only be a part of the solution. Sit down and reflect upon what really upsets you for a few moments. You’re upset about the war. It’s
claimed the lives of nearly 4,000 U.S. soldiers and a staggering one million Iraquis; not one person, not even a politician, try as they may, can give you a good reason as to why. You’re upset about the economy. The price of gas is as unstable as your minimum wage job. The issue of immigration couldn’t be more pertinent as it is in California; the very people who benefit from their labor are perpetually pushing the backbone of our state’s economy to the wall. And then there’s the fact that one in six Americans do not have health insurance, and the ones that do are paying through the roof. Hardly seems like an attribute of the most advanced country on Earth, or even a nation concerned with its people’s well being. But where do we fit into this grand bowl of suck? Yes, one in six of us do not have healthcare, but that means 83% of us do. There are twelve million illegal aliens in this country; meaning two hundred and ninety million of us are as free as the prairie wind. If you’re struggling to find your piece of hate pie, your brother lost in the war, mother denied healthcare because of her status as an illegal immigrant, then you’re a lot like me— and that’s precisely the brilliance of it all. We’ve been prescribed happiness via force, sucking a tit filled with whisky and milk. Collectively, as Americans, we have plenty of reasons to be livid. I urge you to read the
laws passed in the days following 9/11, and I urge you to travel the globe and taste the disgust of so many young, smart, and passionate individuals mystified at our ignorance. We missed our revolution, you might say. And then think of the media, and why it may be beneficial for them to air the speeches of the next Great American Hero, each of course a historic occasion for our Democracy. The only thing more outrageous than thinking one person can save anything in this country is waiting for this Messiah through the hard times— that’s biblical and should remain in Church. There will be nothing Romantic about our revitalization as a country. Anybody who believes Obama or anybody else will waltz down Pennsylvania Avenue in a “The Great One Hundred Days, Part II” is watching too much CNN. Lower your expectations for the next president and raise the ones within yourself. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
ANDREW WILSON
FILLING THE VOID
OPINIONS
Illustration
NOTES OF A DIRTY YOUNG MAN
SPORTS DIRTBAGS LEAD OFF THE SEASON ESPINOSA AND THE #13 DIRTBAGS GIVE A GLIMPSE OF WHAT’S TO COME SERGIO ASCENCIO
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here is a reason Dirtbags shortstop Danny Espinosa has been named a preseason All-American by several media outlets. And it took him one pitch to prove why. In the first game of the season last Friday, with two outs and the bases loaded in the bottom of the tenth of a scoreless game, Espinosa roped the first pitch he saw from Rice reliever Bryan Price over the left fielder’s head for the game winning RBI. Espinosa said he knew he would get something good to hit early in the count just as the Dirtbags fans knew he would come through in the clutch. What he didn’t know was that the fans were cheering “Es-Pee-No-Za! Followed by a clap, clap, clap-clap-clap while his Dirtbags teammates mobbed him in center field. It was a fitting start to the season. Every Dirtbags fan
Photos RUSSELL CONROY
was excited about Espi’s GW hit but I doubt anyone in the stadium was surprised. Nor were they surprised when he went 3-4 with a homerun and scored all three runs the following day. Yes, it is early in the season but anytime you can take a series against a baseball super-school like Rice, it’s something to be excited about. Just ask Danny. “It is a big series,” Espinosa explained. “The big thing for us this weekend is setting our presence on the field. When we walk on the field, people will know who is on the field.” Rivals.com had this set as the series of the weekend (predicting Rice would win 2 of 3, ha) but it was Espinosa who stole the show with his hitting and smooth operation at short. But that was expected of him, especially after he got as many pre-season awards as Kanye won Grammys. So now after an impressive opening series for Long Beach State, everyone and their mother will be keeping a close eye on Dirtbag numero Ocho. After all, he was the shortstop for team USA, named pre-season UNION WEEKLY
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All-American, preseason All-Big West, Brooks Wallace Player of the Year candidate and is the face of a nationally known baseball program. And it is all deserved if you consider the off-season efforts he has made to improve an already talented skill repertoire. In the summer of ’07 Espinosa started at shortstop for the United States squad that won the silver metal at the Pan American Games in Brazil. But it wasn’t that easy for Espi. “I struggled while playing for team USA,” he said. “But I learned to keep my head up and eventually I turned my summer around.” Perhaps the resilience and ability to keep his head up should be credited to a slump-busting buzzcut he got that summer. Coincidentally, Espinosa brought the look back a few weeks ago when he was chillin’ at home and got clipper-happy again. While the lack-of-hairstyle is still fresh, something that has not changed during his stay at Long Beach has been his pre-home game routine. Espinosa makes it a point to be one of the first to arrive at Blair Field and put on the black “LB” batting practice jersey. He then proceeds to stretch with a trainer, loosen up in the batting cage and engage in BP with the rest of the squad. He usually concludes BP with a little baseball chatter with his dad, then proceeds to relax before game time.
Known more for his glove, Espinosa showed off his bat against Rice, hitting 5-9 with one dinger and this game-winning RBI in the opener. Celebration ensued (see left).
“He never puts pressure on me,” Espinosa said of his father. “No one here has ever put any pressure on me. They just say ‘have fun and if you have fun, you will do well.’ And that’s what I try to do. I try to keep a smile on my face and enjoy myself while I am playing.” With a confident/relaxed approach to the game, expect Espinosa to have more nights like he did on opening weekend against Rice. Just as he expects his team to play hard all year long. It doesn’t hurt as motivation that they were all stuck watching two Big West schools not named Long Beach State in the College World Series last June. After all, he doesn’t really care about any individual awards, he’s just got one thing on his mind and some advice to all you Dirtbag fans: start saving up some cash for a June road trip. “We are going to be in Omaha,” he said of the iconic home of the College World Series. “I got 100 percent confidence in this team and the way we play. We are going to play in Omaha.” That’s the kind of attitude you want from your AllAmerican shortstop.
SPORTS
DIRTBAGS ON DIRTBAGS
FOUR PITCHES YOU CAN’T HIT PITCHING COACH JOHN STRAUSS EXPLAINS HOW DIRTBAG ACE ANDY LIEBEL BLANKED THE #6 RICE OWLS
DARREN DAVIS VINCENT GIRIMONTE
SERGIO ASCENCIO “Liebel has really come a long way. I was here with him when he was a sophomore and he has really become a more complete pitcher. He is able to command both sides of the plate, he is able to mix pitches. He has developed a really good change-up which really neutralizes guys that sit on a fastball. [Friday] night was pretty much a tale of him being able to mix four different pitches. And keep a team, which is a good hitting team, unbalanced.”
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Everyone is named Kevin. Here Kevin is playing a r named after your mother.
Circle Change
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4
Curveball
Fastball
Slider
2) Curveball: “His curveball is a pitch that he has really developed. It wasn’t his best pitch earlier in his career but it has almost become his third best pitch over the slider. He has been able to throw it for strikes and able to expland his zone with his curveball. He has come a long way with that pitch.” 3) Fastball: “He’s got a good fastball. He will pitch anywhere from 88-91 and he can get it up to 93mph.” 4) Slider: “Just gives him a couple of different weapons. Usually it is going to be a slider attack to the right handers and a curveball attack to the left-handers.” UNION WEEKLY
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RUSSELL CONROY
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1) Circle Change-up: “His change-up is probably his second best pitch. He’s got great hand speed on it, it comes out like a fastball which is why you see guys swinging at it like it is a fastball.”
Photos
DD: It wasn’t soon after we left the liquor store that I realized Vince forgot the bag of David’s. 15 minutes until first pitch and we are seedless, chugging Bud Lites in my (parked) car with equal parts caution and haste. If only our gathering and consuming of alcohol had been as well planned as our scouting report. Game time. VG: We arrive at Blair Field as two expatriots do, just as the national anthem has run its course. It doesn’t help that Darren wears his Derby cap and scarf; we feel out of place and drunk. The crowd is young and eager with dreams of Omaha, and we believe them. This is baseball in February and everybody’s year could be the year that was. The field is soggy and swallows the first ball hit into the outfield. DD: It was turning out to be a pitcher’s duel. Rice’s Ryan Berry, 2007 freshman pitcher of the year, had the windup of an old hurler. He was on point but not flawless, elevating many of his pitches early. Long Beach starter Andrew Liebel had 9 punch-outs by the 6th inning. His circle change danced before crossing the plate. He threw the cheese and got the whiff. The Cutty Sark was all but spent. VG: Superfan’s flailing told me it was the seventh inning stretch. Time to take inventory: the score was tied at zero, the pitchers were marching through the line-up like Sherman marched through Atlanta, no seeds and no whisky, and just like the last runner at third, we had no chance of getting home safe. I hit the john for some time alone and returned to the stands to find new energy in the form of a man wearing a bandana. He called me a slap-dick for not doing the wave. Maybe he was right, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to take my eyes off the game. DD: Danny Espinosa was thrown out at third trying to go corner to corner in the 9th, reaffirming my belief that there are only two things that matter in baseball: beer, and the third base coach, and only one was doing its job tonight. But there goes Espinosa redeeming his folly in the bottom of the 10th with the score tied 0-0, taking the first pitch he saw to the wall and sending Zach Bargar home from third. There be no better way to end a home opener. A walk-off—I’ll drink to that.
NEWS THAT’S WHAT HE’S SHOUTING ABOUT CSULB’S HONORARY ICE-BREAKER RETURNS VINCENT GIRIMONTE
R Photo KEVIN JARA
ead the news and you’ll see why Amir Abdul Malik is enthusiastic about Islam’s future. “The Muslims are in their ‘60s,” he said in the USU Ballroom, firmly planted over an elevated podium, to a large gathering of students. Whether it’s in Iraq, Iran, Africa, or as recently seen in Kosovo, Islam, as Malik contends, is one of the few groups internationally capable of fighting American Imperialism. CSULB’s Muslim Student Association (MSA) sponsored Malik’s visit in celebration of Malcolm X, also known as ElHajj Malik El-Shabazz, the infamous Black Muslim leader for the Nation of Islam. Malik currently serves as Imam for the Masjid Al Islam mosque in Oakland, California. Malik’s reputation precedes him on college campuses as a fiery orator who flirts with the line of reason, drawing criticisms from many as being anti-Semitic. Such was the case on the campus of UC Irvine in the spring of 2006, and last spring here at CSULB —he is unabash-
edly provocative and addicting to those grabbed by his style. Whether you agree with Amir Abdul Malik or not, it is very difficult to not stop for a listen. But Malik’s rhetoric stayed relatively focused on Malcolm X. For the many Muslim students in attendance, it was a history lesson on his brief yet productive life. Born in Omaha, Nebraska, in 1925 his parents were supporters of Marcus Garvey, a pioneer for the advancement of African-Americans. He was feared by the F.B.I, according to Malik, for his intellectualism and poignant vision on how African-Americans should attain their goals for freedom; the heavy version of Dr. Martin Luther King, whom Malik believes was a “puppet” for a good portion of his political career. Malcolm was friend to many in the business of revolution, including the late Che Guevara and retirement-bound Fidel Castro. “The leadership style of Malcolm X is feared by the country today,” Malik said. The ability to work outside the corrupt system, to be ready to die for the cause— Malcolm embodied the “spiritual warrior” we, as Americans watching the news have grown accustomed to; furthermore, this is a warrior Malik believes the U.S. will never be able to defeat. African-Americans should hold no doubts regarding whom to support concerning the American war on terror (the endless series of battles, becoming highly spiritual), according to Malik. “Malcolm wanted AfricanAmericans to align themselves with Muslims,” he said. “Read the things he said and it will al become clear.” “The only reason why black people are Christian in this country is because of slavery,” he shouted. “We cannot go against our Muslim brothers and sisters.” He also said the powers that be do not want African-
Americans to Malik:“Uncle Sam is afraid of the spiritual see the world. warrior, but you cannot fight him high.” On an international basis, according to Malik, blacks from America are honored for their courage as warriors against the establishment. Barack Obama was not spared from ridicule. He accused those under the impression that Barack Obama will be able to change the plight of African-Americans of “living in a fantasy world.” “Obama’s rise will look like a revolution,” he admitted, but the substance will be lacking—ultimately we will confront a fallacy within a familiar system. Not Obama’s, he said, but Dennis Kucinich’s views more thoroughly support the advancement of Blacks and Muslims. He referred to a system throughout his speech responsible for assassinating African-American and Muslim leaders, and one that showed the physical representation of God as a white man, unless of course, Jesus was adopted. It is only through work outside of the system real change has been conceived. And lest we forget, “no black politician has been as powerful as Malcolm X.”
CSULBʼs only student-run radio station is now looking for volunteers for: • Music internships • DJ positions • Office interns (credit possible) Great opportunity to work in a professional radio setting!
For information contact gmkbeach@hotmail.com, 562-985-1624 or stop by the 1st floor of the University Student Union Room 110.
UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
ENTERTAINMENT JOSEPH BRYANT
M
ichel Gondry is the writer/director of the hit Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the unbearably pretentious The Science of Sleep, so going into Be Kind Rewind I had no idea what to expect. After approximately 101 minutes, I left the theater underwhelmed. The movie isn’t bad, but it isn’t all that good either, which places Be Kind Rewind into the category of mediocre. Close to the beginning of Be Kind Rewind we are introduced to Mike (Mos Def), who works at the titular video rental shop that’s owned by Mr. Fletcher (Danny Glover). Fletcher’s business is in danger of being turned into a tenement by the city if he can’t raise enough money to make significant repairs to the deteriorating building. With this knowledge in hand, Fletcher goes out of town to try and save his business, leaving specific instructions to Mike not to let his best friend, Jerry (Jack Black), into the shop. Jerry becomes magnetized (through a lucrative plot device), and goes into the shop despite the wishes of Mr. Fletcher, erasing all of the tapes with his magnetism, and leaving the duo to do hasty remakes of said movies, which they call “Swedes” (Jerry tells a customer that they are imported from Sweden, justifying a rental price increase from one to twenty dollars). Hilarity ensues, right? Not really. Jack Black plays Jack Black in the movie, bringing nothing to the role other than his usual craziness that is mildly amusing, but never made me laugh out loud. Mos Def is likeable enough, but not entirely memorable. Danny Glover plays old well because he is, still retaining the ridiculous lisp from his Invisalign braces that was so apparent in the Mark Wahlberg vehicle Shooter. The rest of the cast is quirky yet forgettable. The best parts of Be Kind Rewind are the short clips
YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN’T SEEN...
EMPEROR OF THE NORTH JAMES KISLINGBURY
A while back, I got some guff for recommending Way of the Gun because it wasn’t obscure enough. Fair enough. I took that as a challenge to try and highlight a movie I was sure practically no one had ever heard of. And that movie happens to be the hobo epic Emperor of the North (1973), a movie that’s about as off-the-wall as it is just plain awesome.
The movie is set during the height of the Great Depression, when even the most honest folk have turn to bumming. The tone of the movie is closer to a Paul Bunyan-esque tall tale than it is to a historical drama, though. The story revolves around a bet on whether or not A No. 1 (Lee Marvin), the king of hobos, can ride on the train conductor Shack’s (Ernest Borgnine) engine without being caught, and by caught I mean “Beaten to death with a hammer,” which so far no other bum has managed to do. Along the way, A No. 1 begrudgingly teams up with a younger bum, Cigaret (Keith Carradine), to win the bet and make Shack look like an idiot. This cat-and-mouse game eventually culminates in the best way possible for a brutal battle to the death between bum and trainman. The acting is pretty stellar, since the characters would fall apart in less experienced actors’ hands (“Captain Ahab on a train” and the “Smart-Ass with ‘Tude” are descriptions that leave much to be desired). Part of the fun is just seeing badasses like Borgnine
and Marvin duel to the death over something that doesn’t even matter to normal people. Keith Carradine is probably the weakest link in the movie. He seems out of place arguing with Marvin, who even as a dirty homeless man, is far cooler than any man has a right to be. Marvin and Borgnine are pitch-perfect as the best of their rival classes. Where the movie excels is the utter seriousness with which the subject matter is treated. At any given moment this movie could fly off of the rails and turn into an ironic camp-fest, but it takes the high road and plays the movie with a straight face. When you think about it, the struggle of man versus hobo really isn’t any sillier than man versus shark or man versus dinosaur or man versus anything else, since all of those stories just exist as a set-up to an exciting adventure which Emperor of the North delivers on. Emperor of the North is a pure delight from start to finish. There’s no pretension, there’s no apologies and there’s no irony, it’s just a good time. And that’s all the justification I need to hear to sit back and watch some of the best genre actors from the ‘70s duel to the death. It’s almost impossible to find something better than that. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
ANDREW WILSON
A REVIEW OF BE KIND REWIND
together and heal old wounds. This is a belief I subscribe to, but I don’t feel that Gondry has created a film that makes the viewer think. The film comes off as a comedy that isn’t that funny, rather than the creative think piece it claims itself to be with the last fifteen minutes. Be Kind Rewind would have probably been much more successful if it had been just a series of “sweded” vignettes, rather than lazily reinventing itself at the end of the film. This movie is a rental at best; don’t go see it in theaters. I implore you not to buy it on DVD, Blu-Ray, iTunes, or any other medium of your choosing when it’s available for purchase. It isn’t bad, but it’s definitely not worth owning. Union Movie Rating:
Illustration
MICHEL’S GONE DRY
Gondry shows from Jerry and Mike’s “Swedes” of classics such as Ghostbusters and King Kong, along with not-so-classics like Rush Hour 2 and Men in Black. The short films are ridiculous, yet Gondry has managed to be very imaginative with the way he recreates memorable scenes. For example, do you remember the scene from Men in Black in which Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith are rocketing along the top of the Lincoln Tunnel? Well, Gondry had a gigantic spool crafted on which dozens of Hot Wheels were glued down to resemble gridlock traffic. The characters spin the spool slowly while filming Mike and Jerry upside down in the cab of a car. It’s that type of ingenuity that makes Be Kind Rewind actually worth viewing. Let me be perfectly clear: the story is a convoluted mess that ultimately doesn’t amount to much. Be Kind Rewind attempts to showcase the importance of creating film, or any artwork, and how it can bring communities
GET TO KNOW
BOB HURT WORDS AND PHOTOS BY
RYAN KOBANE
T
The P-38 has been called “the army’s greatest invention.” John Wayne, the duke himself, was first shown using one to open a K-ration on an army training video way back during WWII. To you or I, a P-38 looks like an archaic can opener, more likely to inflict pain upon the user than on an aluminum can of green beans. But to Bob Hurt the P-38 isn’t just a quick way to open canned goods, or a mere convenience; but a sign that there is a God, and that he does listen.
O
n average it’s a lap of about fifty or so steps. The distance between the corner of 7th and Flint St. and the end of the Daily Grind coffee shop measures less than one hundred feet. Bob Hurt does a lap every three minutes between the hours of 6 AM and 4:45 PM six days a week, and has done so off and on for the past fifteen years. Every morning, blue skies or not, Bob Hurt is the last face that the majority of Long Beach commuters see before they greet the 405. “I’ve seen people crying, screaming, and singing. I’ve had people throw things at me and flick me off... I just smile and wave,” says Bob. “I don’t like signs, I’d rather wave. I don’t ask for anything, so I’m just lucky some people do help.” Born in Indiana but raised in Long Beach for the majority of his 46 years, Bob says his story “isn’t that different” from most people he knows or has met while living on the streets. A constant series of “ups and downs” as he calls it that started off while attending Wilson High some thirty years ago. Now Bob just waits. He waits for the day the Long Beach Police Department decides to take him back to jail. Around Christmastime this past year an officer gave Bob four tickets in five days at his corner. He now has to face the decision every morning of whether or not he feels lucky, because one more ticket could land Bob directly back in county jail. “I hate being out there, but I have to or we don’t make enough to eat, so it’s really not a choice I have.” When Bob uses the word “we” he isn’t talking about a dog or speaking in “the royal we”, because Bob isn’t alone in his struggle. He doesn’t have just one mouth to feed, but two others that depend on him as well. For many years now Bob has lived in a group of three: Bob’s brother, “Ike,” and Ike’s friend, Will. The group of three all have separate responsibilities each day that are not up for debate. While Bob works during the day pulling in a few dollars, Ike and Will travel around Long Beach “canning.” The two friends have a very regimented routine of trash cans and dumpsters that are “theirs” that they must clear before someone else does. “We’ve been doing this so long that people moving in on our territory isn’t much of a problem anymore,” says
Bob with an expressionless face. “But turf wars can get pretty ugly for people who don’t know what they’re doing out here. People get beat and robbed all the time.” It’s understandable that having the right turf that yields the most amount of cans and recyclables is such a sought after commodity when every cent counts. Bob says they used to make $150 a day before the recent change in recycling regulations, and now making $30 a day is a rarity. So placing a premium on the best spots is a matter of eating or not eating. Protecting this valuable territory and their few belongings is something that the three friends take very seriously, and sometimes it becomes necessary to use the impression of strength to defend it. Only a few months ago, Ike’s only form of transportation was stolen from their camp, leaving him virtually useless to the other two. “My brother went lookin’ for the bike with a hatchet. He didn’t have to use it when he found the guy, but the bike ended up where it was supposed to be at. If you just allow people to take advantage of you all the time you won’t survive out here. You just won’t.”
“I was picking up trash on the side of the road and underneath a bag of chips was a P-38, just sitting there. It only took a month of praying but he answered them. Ever since then I’ve never hesitated to pray for anything.” He carries that same P-38 he found in Palos Verdes with him everyday, and when he talks about it he smiles. “I’ve been around awhile,” he says while nodding. “It’s just easier to be happy than to be mad all the time. That’s why I wave and smile while I stand out there. I see people smile back at me all day long and that’s a great feeling. I don’t think I’m doing much, but I do feel like I try to give something back to the people that help me. Even if it’s just a smile...I don’t know.”
A few years ago, Bob was given the opportunity to work for the city. A certain former mayor that will remain nameless was having his campaign posters stolen from around the area that Bob spends most of his day. Bob was hired (under the table of course) to catch the thieves, and was given $400 for his efforts no matter if he caught the person or not. Only a day later he had photos of a man stealing campaign material, and was later told the man was prosecuted because of the photos. Moments like these are the reason Bob says he is still able to wear a smile on his face from sun up to sun down. “I know there’s a higher power because little prayers get answered all the time, like when I found my P-38. Sometimes it’s a day late you know, but you’ve just got to have a sense of humor about things like that.” It was on a hill in Palos Verdes about ten years ago while Bob was working for Caltrans where he says his belief in a God that actually listens finally had merit. He prayed for something so small that he knew only God could help him find one. For Bob, a P-38 isn’t just a way to open a can, but something that reminds him of his childhood, and on that day in Palos Verdes a P-38 gave him reason enough never to doubt God’s plan again. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
11
ENTERTAINMENT
MIKE PALLOTTA
T
here’s a hell of a lot of comic book movie news this week, but I’ve only got a limited amount of space so I’ll just give you the most exciting of the exciting. The stuff that isn’t about comic book movies is about Harry Potter, which is close enough. What a poof! Here’s the nooze: Biggest news of the week: David Fincher (director of Se7en and Zodiac) is going to direct the screen adaptation of Charles Burns’ graphic novel Black Hole! Black Hole, completed and released in 2005, tells the tale of two teens livng in Seattle sometime in the ‘70s, each trying to find someone to have sex with in a high school where everyone is fucking someone. Soon a rumor starts going
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around that a “bug” is spreading from kid to kid. This bug, however, doesn’t just result in blisters or insult-inducing cold sores, it causes freakish mutations in the bearer of the “bug.” Fincher’s style and attention to detail as well as keen sense of storytelling caters perfectly to an obviously strange story about kids learning to cover up their hideous abnormalities (one of them grows a tiny mouth on the bottom of his neck), in order to keep the semblance of a normal life. No date announced yet for a release, let alone when filming will begin. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you informed. More casting news for the solo Wolverine movie (cumbersomely titled X-Men Origins: Wolverine, set to come out May 1st, 2009). Definitely, Maybe star Ryan Reynolds joins the cast as Deadpool, the horribly disfigured assassin with a pretty good sense of humor (all things considered) and a healing factor that matches the likes of Wolverine’s. No word yet on whether or not they’ll keep the redand-black full body costume from the comics. Reynolds will star alongside Liev Schreiber (cast as Sabretooth), Dominic Monaghan (from Lost & Lord of the Rings), Will.i.am (yes, that Will.i.am), Taylor Kitsch from the Friday Night Lights show as Gambit
REEL NEWS (he throws cards that explode!), and Danny Huston (from Children of Men and 30 Days of Night). Universal struck a deal with Hasbro (due to the success of Transformers) to make several of their properties into movies over the next six years. Universal is interested in possibly making a movie of each of the following: Monopoly, Candy Land, Stretch Armstrong, Magic: The Gathering, Ouija, and even Clue (which already was made into a movie in 1985). No word yet on how many of these will be directed by Uwe Boll. For all you Potter fans, the director of the final Harry Potter film will be David Yates, the man who directed Order of the Phoenix and who is filming Half-Blood Prince right now. It’s a fairly obvious choice to continue with him. Unlike past directors of Potter films, Yates hasn’t directed much else, so it’s only natural that he’d want to stick with the series that’s giving him some notoriety. Of course it doesn’t matter who the fuck directs it, so long as you put “Harry Potter” in the title. Accio box-office millions! If you have any questions about a movie you’re looking forward to, email me at beef@lbunion.com.
The Other Boleyn Girl Columbia Pictures — Rated PG-13 A mentally handicapped girl comes home from school to find her mother is still the same overbearing mother she’s always been. In a fight to prove herself as more than just a“retard,” this independent girl...oh shit, that’s The Other Sister with Juliette Lewis. The Other Boleyn Girl is about some princesses or some shit. It’s got Scarlett Johansson and Natalie Portman, not exactly sure they don’t play retards though... Semi-Pro New Line Cinema — Rated R Take Talladega Nights and Blades of Glory, change the sport-of-choice to basketball, change it from the wacky world of Nascar and figure skating to the wacky world of the ‘70s, take the dream sequence from Fletch and stretch it out for 90 minutes, and you’ve got Semi-Pro. An entirely new feature film from the guys who brought you other comedic sports movies. Chicago 10 Roadside Attractions — Rated R An animated movie (interspersed with archival footage) about protesters put on trial in ‘68, to shove in your face how little you’re doing to oppose the current war.
LITERATURE
MAGAZINE PROFILE: MISSBEHAVE Since Sassy shut down in 1996, and even more recently, Jane, the magazine racks have been void of intelligent, creative, irreverent female writers. Sure, high fashion magazines are pretty, but they thrive on knowing most women need nothing more than starving muses and ad fluff. For the rest of us who crave humor, information, pop culture, music, and concentrated fashion editorials—I’m talking about substance, here—there’s Missbehave. Opening this two-year-running, Brooklyn-based magazine is like opening a box of Pretty Pretty Princess and finding that chunky plastic jewelry and a gram of cocaine inside. It’s cheeky, colorful, and completely addictive. Feminists, they are not, but they are clearly anti-Cosmopolitan. Each issue contains hilarious articles like “DILF Hunter” and Editor-in-Chief Mary Choi’s ever-entertaining opening letter. My personal favorite was a diatribe on how Zach Braff is hideously creepy as any other character but J.D. (so true!). They
review everything from vibrators to acrylic nails and despite their risqué style, they remain totally credible and ridiculously talented. Hell, even the headlines on the cover are great: “Vegans & 23 Other Dudes We Won’t Shag,”“Kelly Bundy—Style Icon,”“Barely Legal Male Models,” and “Karl Lagerfeld is Skinnier Than You!” Missbehave boasts cover girls like M.I.A., Bijou Phillips, Lily Allen, and Mena Suvari who pose exuberantly behind the words, “for the fashion rebel.” This magazine is the cool, bitchy girlfriend who speaks her mind and dresses with heedless courage. It’s my bible and I’m proud to be a disciple of this bedazzled institution. Missbehave may be teetering on a rocky cliff that towers over the graveyard of great publications that came before her, but it dares to look into a male-dominated horizon. I can only hope that we will see more magazines like this cropping up on news stands soon so that young women like myself can find inspiration—with substance. RACHEL RUFRANO
TEXT AND THE CITY THIS WEEK : USING LITTICISMS IN DAILY CONVERSATION ERIN HICKEY
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o pretentious college student’s conversation is complete without a few well-placed book puns or as I like to call them, litticisms. Not only will they make your friends laugh (or as is often the case, groan) with delight, but using litticisms in everyday conversation will also give the illusion that you are significantly smarter than you actually are. If your friend was to buy a new car, Volkswagen’s largest model for instance, you could congratulate him on his purchase by saying, “Flannery O’Connor would be proud. A good van is hard to find.” Guffaws will ensue. Spot a damsel in distress whose hat has gone the way of the wind? Sidle up to her and quip, “So, the wind took your hat. As Vonnegut might say, ‘so it blows.’” Guaranteed digits. Have a crush on the waiter at that Chinese restaurant? From now
on you could order takeout by requesting “a moveable feast” rather than asking for your food “to go.” As you’ve probably noticed, the possibilities are endless, but use litticisms with caution. If your references become too obscure, you run the risk of sounding like an asshole. Alright, in fairness, making book jokes automatically makes you sound like an asshole, but it makes you sound like a pretentious asshole, which is perfectly acceptable. The line between asshole and pretentious asshole is fine, but I promise you it is there. If you choose to ignore my advice, be sure to drop a self-satisfied smirk after your remark. This way if your friends don’t get the joke (and there is a good chance they won’t—unless of course you’re my friend), they’ll know it was meant to be witty, and will feel like jerks for not being well read enough to laugh at it. If your friends do get the joke, they’ll return your smirk and you’ll be able to revel in the knowledge that you are superior to all the illiterate schmucks around you. I’ve armed you with a few litticisms, but feel free to come up with your own. You never know when they could come in handy. Use them with pride, but try not to be too prejudiced. Not everyone’s as smart as we are.
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MUSIC
CALENDAR
BELL X1
$13
The Troubadour Doors at 8pm West Hollywood Monday, March 24th Bell X1 has been around in their home country of Ireland since they met in high school in 1991. The crowd for this band runs what looks about a thousand deep in Ireland, so you’ll be lucky to see them here in the states in a venue as intimate as the Troubadour.
SAINTS BE PRAISED! ST. VINCENT WILL MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HER. SEAN BOULGER
A
nnie Clark means business. Maybe she doesn’t mean the kind of hard-nosed, I’m-here-to-stay business that some artists might try to impose with their debut albums, but she definitely means business. Rather, Annie means a subtle, underhanded, here’s-my-music-I-hope-you-like-it kind of business. And the thing is, we do like it. We like it a lot. Releasing her debut album Marry Me under the stage name St. Vincent, Annie Clark has taken the indie community by storm, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Slowly and quietly building a great deal of street cred
We dare you to tell us St. Vincent isn’t over the last few the cutest guitar player in the world. years by touring with the likes of Sufjan Stevens and playing in the Polyphonic Spree, Clark decided last year that the time was right to showcase her chops to the rest of the world. Arriving in July, Marry Me is a beautiful collage of influences, cleverly woven into a smart tapestry of arrangements that are careful and layered. Their biggest strength, however, is that they are clever enough to know when to pull back, letting Clark’s guitar and vocals do the talking. With the degree and style of production on which Marry Me functions, it would be all too easy to let fancy string arrangements and clever studio tricks gloss over Clark’s performances as both a vocalist and musician. Live, of course, St. Vincent functions as a band on a level that is commendable, given the extreme amount of studio production her songs have gone through to achieve the sound they so brilliantly showcase. Utilizing a minimal amount of sampling, almost all of the lush instrumentation found on Marry Me is replicated very, very well onstage. A stunning live show, coupled with a glorious first album has made Annie Clark the darling of the indie community. Shit, I’d marry her.
AUSTIN TV ALLAN STEINER
Photo KEVIN JARA
It’s not often that I listen to Mexican music. I listen to the music of the French, the Swedish, the Icelandic, the Japanese, The Norwegians, and countless others, but for some reason I never get around to listening to Mexican music. I’m actually kind of ashamed to admit it too, because not only is Spanish the only other language I’m even halfway familiar with, and not only is Mexico the only other country I’ve had the pleasure of visiting, but also, Mexican music is often really good. Mexico has a rich musical tradition that has been around for ages. The people there are almost disgustingly talented, and this is no exception when it comes to Austin TV. I have no reason not to have listened to this band. I mean, they don’t even have very many lyrics for me to have to translate and dissect, with the exception of some UNION WEEKLY
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of the voiceovers that aid the music much in the same vein as that of the American band Mogwai. But while Austin TV is one of the lesser recognized names on the Coachella lineup as far as most of the people I’ve spoken to are concerned, they seem to actually have a fairly large following in Mexico. And with influences such as Sigur Ros and Radiohead, they seem like a perfect band to be playing in Indio this April. As for the band’s stage act, each member usually wears a mask; the band claims that the face doesn’t matter and that it is what is on the inside that counts. If it isn’t already blatantly obvious, I really like this band. And just for the record, I’m really glad every time I find a band like this. It’s proof that there is more out there, that I’ve only just scratched the surface. And no. I’m not sure why the band calls themselves Austin TV.
KAKI KING
$14
Roxy Theatre Doors at 9pm Hollywood Wednesday, March 26th Despite her relative obscurity, Kaki King is a creative force to be reckoned with. Her innovative guitar playing, combining a mixture of slapping and fingerpicking, is certainly not to be missed. When you decide that you’re good and ready to see guitar work like nothing you’ve seen before, check her out.
TOKYO POLICE CLUB
$15
The Troubadour Doors at 8pm West Hollywood Wednesday, March 26th They’re not from Tokyo, they have no connection with the fuzz, and they don’t hold weekly meetings. They’ve only been around for 3 years, but are already a force to be reckoned with. And while you’re at the show, you can also catch Eagle Seagle, as they play music that the “cool kids” will be listening to for the next four months.
JUSTICE
$30
Mayan Theatre Doors at 8pm Los Angeles Monday, March 31st Put on your neon pink sweatband and high top Nikes. Justice will be served in the warmth of a large, burning cross that conjures up images of Madonna’s “Like a Prayer,” and you can be one of the many D.A.N.C.I.N.G. fools who attend.These two hairy French men will synthesize your indie heart into oblivion.
Seeing as most of your audience members tonight are college students, is there a message you’d like to get across to them? There are probably a bunch of different messages, because I have a lot of different songs. But it’s Saturday night, and we’re here to have fun and party. I’m not trying to preach or anything to ‘em, I just want ‘em to have a good time. That’s basically the message that im trying to get across this evening. You just did a movie with Guy Ritchie and have been working on some other projects. Can you tell us about your acting projects that are coming out? The movie with Guy Ritchie is called Rock & Roller, and it was filmed in London. That’ll be out sometime toward the end of this year. If you’ve seen Snatch or Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, it’s done by the same guy so it’s kinda along those lines. As far as other movies are concerned, I did a movie called The Game that Gerard Butler is starring in. It’s done by the team that did Crank, with Jason Statham, and it’s kind of like a futuristic action movie. I’m also about to do a movie based on the Max Payne video game that Mark Wahlberg is starring in, so those are the three movies projects as of right now. What’s your opinion about the protestors outside right now for the nature of your lyrics? It’s always gonna happen. You’ll always have people doing that at the end of the day, you know? I can’t really control anything about it, but how do I feel?
ERIC BRYAN
Can you tell us about your nonprofit and charity organizations? My nonprofit organization is called the Ludacris Foundation, and it’s geared towards helping underprivileged youth and kids. We’re coming up on our 5th annual dinner in May. We get more and more sponsors every year, and we’re able to help more and more individuals. It’s basically geared towards helping kids help themselves and all underprivileged youths. What would your biggest inspiration for your music be? Probably my daughter. Her name is Karma. That would be it. What is your main goal that inspires your creativity now, and is it the same as when Back for the First Time came out? A lot of it is fueled by my passion for music and love for music and the way it’s evolving and changing, and doing it for myself. Just being the best that I can possibly be and being able to change people’s lives and get them through stressful situations by listening to music. All of that. Most importantly just to change music and leave my imprint and have my chapter in the book of hip-hop. All of those things. Making history. [laughs] If that answers your question. Do you think hip-hop needs protestors like this to keep going? Do I think they need protestors? Do you think hip-hop is actually made bigger and better because people actually have the right to say that they
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Rock music is dead. Let’s just get that straight, alright? There is no such thing as rock and roll, since pigeonholing, the opiate of the masses, reigns paramount. If you have any doubt, observe the fact that you have an iTunes account, and see your fingerprints at the murder scene. Now that we‘ve got pretension out of the way, Black Mountain’s In the Future is the séance the world has been begging for: a shot in the arm without progressive jazz interludes, weepy choruses, or Trivium. Instead, the church of Black Sabbath is in session, and Deep Purple stands proud upon the pulpit, preaching the word of our lord and savior, the riff. From beginning to end, In the Future is relentlessly grand, with riffs aplenty being used in only the most epic of fashions, complimented by rollicking bass lines and dual drummers shaking the very foundation that the Cold War Kids pretend to stand on. Vocalists Stephen McBean and Amber Webber proceed to do the band one better and paint aural landscapes with their stylings, creating a
don’t like your lyrics? Do you think that’s part of it? I wouldn’t say it needs protestors, per se, but I mean, whenever you have something that’s this dominant and is this influential to this many people, and it’s art, you’re always going to get people that don’t agree. I’ve got Parental Advisory stickers on my albums, you
know? And it’s not just hip-hop; there are a lot things that people protest. You gotta take the good with the bad sometimes, so that’s what it comes down to. At the end of the day, though, it’s freedom of speech, so they can protest all they want. I have the right to do what I do, and that’s basically what it comes down to.
sound that is both incredible and easily accessible. It’s hard to pinpoint another band that sounds exactly like them, and that’s the best thing that can be said about any band right now. With everyone trying to sound like the next Fall Out Boy, Avenged Sevenfold, or Wolfmother, a band that can create this kind of originality is insanely refreshing. However, no album is without fault. The one (and only, really) big misstep that Black Mountain makes is trying a bit too hard at some points. For instance, in “Evil Ways,” the band sounds like a late ‘70s-era Black Sabbath, throwing in a kind of jammy groove sound, and in “Tyrants,” they sound like the bastard children of Pink Floyd, Deep Purple and Jethro Tull. While it tends to work well in both cases, it can get confusing. Such artistic bravery is always admirable, but it muddies up the album’s continuity at times. However, let me reiterate that this is not a bad thing. It’s a complication, especially for a casual listener, but it is in no way bad. This is not music for the casual listener, though. This is music made for immersion, for a trek across the sonic soundscape that is Black Mountain. KROQ need not apply; there is no room for your kind where In the Future is going. I repeat, rock and roll is dead. There is metal, punk, emo, hardcore, prog, and a thousand other genres split into a million subgenres, but rock and roll is dead. Black Mountain are here to remind you what it was like, though. The riffs, lyrics, rhythms, all of it, they simply drip with pure rock and roll. Take heed, music enthusiasts, Black Mountain is rock and roll. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
RUSSELL CONROY
RYAN ZUMMALLEN
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LUDACRIS SPEAKS!
BLACK MOUNTAIN IN THE FUTURE
MUSIC
I feel like they’re judging me based on words, but they don’t really know who I am, what I do for the community, and things of that nature. That’s basically what it comes down to.
COMICS Crossword puzzles provided by BestCrosswords.com. Used with permission.
You’re STUCK Here! by Victor! Perfecto
yourestuckhere@gmail.com
Caramel > You by Ken C.
OMKAR-The Barbarian
Across
www.tottconn.com
1- All, musically 6- Leaf tool 10- Two together 14- Gray 15- Chieftain, usually in Africa 16- Reflected sound 17- Brings up 18- Headland 19- Agitate 20- Hardcopy 22- Applauds 24- Monetary unit of Austria 25- Gossip 26- Take 30- Hazard 32- Irritate 33- Spanish painter 35- Like a mosquito bite 40- Rainy season 42- Rubber overshoe 44- Bed down 45- Black, in poetry 47- Distinctive quality 48- Relaxation 50- Aviator 52- Scholar 56- Rules
58- Minister 59- Pert. to first man 64- Dynamic beginning 65- Shady recess 67- “Venerable” English monk 68- Astound 69- Task 70- Oil-rich Islamic theocracy neighboring Iraq 71- Untidy condition 72- Hard outgrowths 73- Category
Down 1- Diamond cover 2- Manipulator 3- Baht spender 4- Small gull 5- Part of the foot 6- Happen again 7- Expressive of love 8- Hide of a small beast 9- Builds 10- Attack on all sides 11- Eight singers 12- Pierce 13- Stallion, e.g. 21- Money paid
23- Muslim wise man 26- Weapons 27- Moderately cold 28- Motion picture 29- Otherwise 31- Othello villain 34- Singles 36- Former Russian ruler 37- Pal 38- Israeli round dance 39- Bring forth young 41- Goes into business 43- Without warning 46- Explain unduly 49- Join 51- Doctrine 52- Sudden convulsion 53- Narrow mountain ridge 54- Infectious agent 55- Ages 57- Enhance 60- Large wading bird 61- King mackerel 62- Purim month 63- Gave temporarily, holy period of 40 days 66- 17th letter of the Greek alphabet
Do you like Comics? Send them to editor Victor Camba: yourestuckhere@gmail.com Or drop them off at the Union office Student Union Office 256a
Drunken Penguin Presents... by James Kislingbury
UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
penguin.incarnate@gmail.com
ANSWERS
CREATIVE ARTS The Four Seasons: Highway 49
Photos
GRADUATE DANCE GROUP PERFOMANCE: CAUGHT KATIE REINMAN The talent in our dance department is one that should not be overlooked. It would be a shame to not experience at least one of the amazing performances that are showcased. Taking the walk all the way to the far end of campus is more than worth it, and the performances take you even farther. During the week of February 20 through the 24th, Graduate students were presenting their final pieces towards their Master of Fine Arts degree. Each night showcased four different grad students’ pieces. On Friday night Jeff Bulkley, Dana Berk. Erin Scheiwe and Stevan Novakovich were in the spotlight. The show started with a darker piece titled “Nightmares,” choreographed by Jeff Bulkley. Three dancers moved across the stage, interacting in a prison-like setting. The set, created by Regelio Lopez Garcia, was also an active part of the performance. The dancers would appear and then hide again from the view of the audience, leaving for maybe only a brief second. The gestures were
forceful as masked figures of power and authority took over the prisoner. Next was “Just Jam Out,” a more light hearted piece by Dana Berk, who choreographed with collaboration from the dancers as well. The main personality of the piece was trying to audition to dance on a cruise ship, only she wasn’t the most talented of the bunch. It was played off as a narrative, as she informed the audience of her nervous nature and how she prepares herself for any audition, by bringing all her shoes. Multiple dancers performed various dance elements, such as ballet, jazz and tap. “Cleansed” was a video choreographed, directed and edited by Erin Scheiwe. This piece had less dancing and more imagery. It was a reflection on two women’s relationships with God, and how they used those relationships to deal with the turmoil in their life. The more exciting visual imagery took place at the beginning of the video, where the women were shown standing waist-deep in water. “Interleave” by Stevan Novakovich discussed the role of women in society and how to reach gender equality we must treat both sexes the same. The dancers in this piece entered on the stage in long skirts down to the floor, but wore nothing to hide their
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RYAN KOBANE
breasts. Novakovich was trained at the Alvin Ailey School of American Dance, and this influence is reflected in his work. The women swept across the stage, each gesture enhanced by the dramatic lighting. It was one of the longer performances, but worth every minute. The perfect way to end the show. The next performance to be coming out of our prestigious dance department here at Long Beach State is the Contemporary Dance Concert, March 12-15. It will feature undergrad dance students and their original choreography. If it is anything like what was showcased in the Graduate Dance Group Performance, you won’t want to miss it. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
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CULTURE I take a walk down memory lane, a little block on E. 4th St. between Junipero and Cherry called Retro Row, and stumble into a cozy little shop called Imonni. Tucked behind candy colored racks of vintage clothing is a jewelry counter where Tracy Pennypacker is manning the desk. When she’s not designing jewelry from vintage parts for her label, UnConventional, she plays store manger to the thrift store that plays a major role in the style of the Long Beach area. It’s not long before Eiko Wise, who opened Imonni in November of 2001, strolls in to give me the full story. “Imonni is a Japanese word for ‘boiled potato.’” When I ask her how on earth she ever decided on ‘boiled potato’ she says her mother saw one on a television commercial and suggested she name her store ‘imonni.’ “Oh, okay,” Eiko replied—and it’s with the same easygoing style that makes the shop so inviting and charming. High-quality garments are shipped in weekly and there’s even an Imonni label that’s handmade and designed by Eiko. Imonni is not only a big part of Eiko’s life (she lives right upstairs), but there’s a community bond that’s formed among those who frequent it. Tracy emotes to the men’s section of shoppers, “Everyone just knows each other!” I ask Tracy for some “secondhand” advice knowing that vintage shopping can often be overwhelming—uncertainty concerning what I want, what is well made, and what size is right. Tracy says, “Never look for your size; you have to eyeball it.” And with so many varying eras, shapes, and designs it can be difficult to know what style suits you, but Tracy reassures me, “Style is all about personality.” I figure I may have some of that, and even if I don’t, I’m certain there’s enough in Imonni to go around.
RACHEL RUFRANO Graphics RACHEL RUFRANO Photos KATHY MIRANDA
“This mannequin hates me!” -Tracy Shirt $28, Jumper $52, Necklace $70, Scarf $4. Right: CSULB student Curtis, 20, shops in the men’s section. UNION WEEKLY
27 FEBRUARY 2008
The style of any generation isn’t to be judged or criticized; it is to be admired. Generation after generation, we’ve tailored our style to fit our era. And yes, fashion is indeed, a statement. Whether we realize it or not, the clothes we wear represent a culture unique to only us. But, we must remember, style is always inspired. It is influenced by the sartorial splendor of the men and women who came before us. We have decided we must pay our dues to the style icons of the past century starting with an editor’s fave, Miss Lah Dee Dah herself, Annie Hall. Annie Hall is everything but refined. She’s quirky, her style is unconventional, and fashionably speaking, she’ll try anything once. But what makes Annie Hall our muse is not only her ability to make wideleg trousers sexy, but it’s her casual yet awkward demeanor, more endearing than unusual, that make our knees weak. Her style is unique and bold, capturing ensembles reminiscent of playing dress-up in our mothers’ closets. From multi-layered outfits and wild accessories to tailored meninspired suits and fedora hats, her fashion sensibility has paved the way for women’s style. She is a brave one too; she is never afraid to accessorize, and no piece of jewelry is too avante-garde for her. Annie Hall reminds us that fashion is ours to create, no matter how bizarre it may turn out. She says it’s okay to wear our boyfriend’s clothes and those eccentricallyframed glasses, and we say “Neat.”
KATHY MIRANDA
Drew Barrymore, who would’ve known that the chubby-faced child who shared the silver screen with a extra-terrestrial would stir up the envy of so many American women? You were a little girl lost, but know you’ve found a way to grab some hot Hollywood ass. You’ve made quite the upgrade from twelve-year-old cokehead dating Corey Feldman to the most desirable mate in Hollywood. It’s not even that you’re the most desirable mate, but the men you’ve dated certainly are. Please, Drew, teach me your ways. You’ve been in the pants of every sought-after man, from Chris O’Donnell to Luke Wilson. You dated half-brazilian, half-Italian sex god Fabrizio Moretti for five years and I couldn’t have been happier that you set him free, back into the wild, only to be taken again by the snaggle-tooth, Kirsten Dunst. How do you do it, Drew? Is it the goingbraless-in-concert-tees? Is it the chin? You have such great range, too. Edward Norton is a serious actor. Seriously hot. Then you married Tom Green, and he can rub his bum on my cheese anytime. And now you’ve been seen canoodling with the Mac guy, Justin Long. Please, Drew, find me a man who looks that adorably apathetic with his hands tucked into casual wear. Listen Drew, I’m not saying, I’m just saying. You’re bisexual; save the foxy men for women who only play for the home team. The only hope I have now is that you’ll marry Long and take some preventive measures to never start dating again. It’s like genocide, the amount of men you’ve taken off the market. Yeah. You’re like Hitler. I said it. So please, Drew, I can call you Drew? Either tell the clueless women of the world how you do it, or don’t do it at all. RACHEL RUFRANO
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“Like a Phoenix, I Rise From the Ashes.”
The Grunion
Volume 62 Issue 5
Wednesday, February 27th 2008
Disclaimer: This page is satire. We are not ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Send rags to EarlGrey@lbunion.com
LBUNION.COM
Senator Knickerbocker Filibusters Against Flimflam By FANCY LASH GRUNION GENTLEMAN
Former Cuban dictator Fidel Castro (above) as pictured along with anonymous cheque.
Anonymous Donor Bankrolls Grunion Comeback By EARL GREY GRUNION DEMAGOGUE The Grunion’s muzzle has been removed, for now, due to the efforts of an anonymous donor from Cuba. On Friday, February 22nd, the infamous backpage, a staple of Cal State University, Long Beach for more than 30 years, was scheduled to be dissolved by the Union Weekly and replaced with a permanent house ad depicting unrealistically flattering sketches of the writing staff. But the tactless attempt at bolstering self-confidence was halted indefinitely when, on the eve of its destruction, The Grunion received a money order for an undisclosed amount ($10,000,000) on the doorstep of its office. Although no name appeared on the doc-
ument itself, the order was enclosed with a picture of former Cuban dictator Fidel Castro holding a February 4th issue of the The Grunion. Along with the picture was a note with the message “keep on trucking, amigos” on a piece of stationary labeled “From The Desk of Former Cuban Dictator Fidel Castro,” signed in what DNA analysis later determined to be former Cuban Dictator Fidel Castro’s blood. “We can niether confirm nor deny that former Cuban dictator Fidel Castro is now financing us,” said Grunion Business Manager Folden Londry. “We are aware, however, that the amount of street-cred this publication would garner with such an endorsement would be exponential. I mean come on. Think about it.” Continued on Page A7
Dateline-Washington Bad news for roustabouts and nogoodniks this week as the daring-do of well-to-do, do-gooder Charles Knickerbocker set his senatorial sights on flimflam, chicanery and the like in the form of a fiercesome filibuster fixed firmly upon the finely furnished floor of the fenate phambers. Knickerbocker, the junior senator who hails from an Appalachian tree house—a home that doubles as a school for children with an underdeveloped sense of moxie and/or fodio do—was once thought to have been a dupe of the duplicitous ne’r-dowells of the senior senate. “I am auld!” declared an old, fat senator with white hair and a finely tailored suit. “I auld, resent youth!” When Senator Knickerbocker discovered the nature of the plot against him, his American spirit began to fade. According to Knickerbocker, not even the sight of the Lincoln memorial, children obeying their parents or a dog covering his eyes with his paws in the latest movie-olla could massage cheer back into his heart. However, the truth came marching home last Tuesday as millions of children everywhere began clapping their hands and chanting, “I believe in Junior Senator Charles Knickerbocker of the North East Appalachian Territories!” upon hearing
the news that their boyish man-boy, child-man had fallen into a state of irreconcilable sadness. “I felt as though a bald eagle had begun dancing the Charleston on my heart,” noted Knickerbocker. Thusly, Knickerbocker took to the senate floor and perchanced to partake in one of the oldest and most fascinating spectacles known to man: the filibuster. “Although some of my colleagues might have you believe that it is an empty gesture to speak out against an abstraction of thought, I decree to disagree,” said Knickerbocker in his opening statements. The junior senator, who then quickly realized that filibustering against flimflam was harder than he initially imagined, regaled the senate with his admirable knowledge of birdcalls, followed by a three-hour session of ham boning for the crowd. Many of the senior senators, unaccustomed to the feel-good kneeslaptitude associated with the art form known as “ham bone” shifted elderlyly in their chairs, furrowing their brows as Knickerbocker continued to stave off a bill that had nothing to do with Juba dancing. “At this point in the article, I’m not sure what’s happening,” noted Grunion writer and former editor, Fancy Lash. “I wrote this as a loose headline and I’m afraid that 418 words are simply too many for this idea.”
INSIDE Area Hotshot Attempts To Flip Grilled Cheese Sandwich Without Spatula Area man Thom Ricard failed Saturday to flip a grilled cheese sandwich using only the grill itself, effectively making a mess. PAGE A2
Nerd Informs Football Coach Giving 150% Statistically Impossible Sam Hershel was unable to stow away his desire to correct Coach Ron Siler’s constant reference to a mathematical fallacy last Wednesday, resulting in wedgies, noogies, swirlies, wet-Willie’s, Indian burns, and charlie horses from his classmates. PAGE A8
U.S. Supreme Court Rules:“Big Fat Comedian Loses N’ Tasty” Is Neither PAGE A11 Weight, Act
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