ISSUE 65.11 “Just ’cause you got the monkey off your back doesn’t mean the circus has left town.” -George Carlin
JOE BRYANT Editor-in-Chief
RACHEL RUFRANO Managing Editor
clay.union@gmail.com
MATT DUPREE
simone.union@gmail.com
KEVIN O’BRIEN
kevinob.union@gmail.com
Guest Opinions Editor
A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
I
it for Goodwill and my mother’s nostalgia boxes in the attic. Still, nothing there for me possession-wise. Mom’s gonna turn my room into a dance room of all things—hardwood floors, wall of mirrors, hand rail, the works. As I pulled away from the curb, my car loaded with boxes, I felt, well—sad. It was weird. When I first moved out? Nothing. Not even a frown. I didn’t cry or anything this time (give me some credit), but I couldn’t help but feel that I was on the cusp of something monumental, a real turning point. So I drove home and piled the boxes into my room and quickly realized I needed another bookshelf. That’s the other thing! I have to buy a bookshelf now. Financial ties with my parents have been ostensibly cut for a while now (they still pay for my tuition), so it’s almost like I’m all grown up. Other than this, I don’t have a job and I’m not going to have a degree until May, which leaves me…where exactly? In some sort of limbo between Neverland
ANDY KNEIS Sports Editor
CAITLIN CUTT
Literature Editor & PR
JAMES KISLINGBURY
Entertainment Editor & PR Music Editor & PR
CHRIS FABELA
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
t’s been over a year and a half since I moved out of my parents’ house for the last time. My freshman year of college—The Dark Days—I attended a shit hole of a private college in Illinois for fall and winter. Simply put? I was a dummy and should never have gone. For Christ’s sake, the closest town to the college was called Jerseyville and the biggest thing there was a Wal-Mart. Despite how awful The Dark Days were, they taught me the glory of not living with Mom and Dad. It’s pretty much the only thing I missed about Illinois when I was back in California. Freedom to act a fool. A year or so after The Dark Days I moved out for good. Kinda. I still had tons of shit in my parents’ house: Old clothes, comic books, posters, an embarrassing amount of monkey stuffed animals. But last week was big for me. I cleaned house. Literally. Granted, I didn’t do much. I rummaged through everything (taking a few things here and there), but I left most of
News Director
RACHEL RUFRANO
JOE BRYANT
Creative Arts Editor
and the real world? Not quite a boy, not quite a man? Nervous about career prospects, but still willing to spend/waste a good six hours of my life trying to beat the airplane mission in Call of Duty 4? The semester is almost gone and other than faint occupational hopes, I don’t have anything planned. Except the new Call of Duty. Pretty stoked about that. On a darker note, this week’s feature is all about addiction—how our brains process it and how we perceive it through pop culture—written by Union vets Caitlin Cutt and James Kislingbury, so you know you’re in good hands (Check it out on page 6). Also, I have to apologize to Hillary Cantu, whose name was not only omitted from the contributors list last week, but was obscured on her illustration. Sorry, Hillary. My bad. Ask Away!
Who better to get advice from/complain to than some guy you don’t know? Send all emails to: joeb.union@gmail.com
INSTANT DOODLES
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CLAY COOPER
Managing Editor
JOE VERSUS NEVER NEVER LAND
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andyk.union@gmail.com caitlincutt.union@gmail.com jamesk.union@gmail.com rachel.union@gmail.com cfab.union@gmail.com
VICTOR CAMBA
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KATHY MIRANDA
kathym.union@gmail.com
Comics Editor Culture Editor
SOPHISTICATED BEAR Grunion Editor
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CLAY COOPER
Art Director/Cover
ANDREW LEE Photo Editor
MIKE PALLOTTA
On-Campus Distribution
KATHY MIRANDA Web Editor
CAITLIN CUTT
Advertising Executive
caitlincutt.union@gmail.com
Contributors: MIKE PALLOTTA, SIMONE HARRISON, SEAN BOULGER, JASON OPPLIGER, ERIN HICKEY, MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN, ALEXANDRA SCIARRA, JEFF CHANG, CHRISTINE NOH, BRIAN NEWHARD, ANDREW TURNER, STEVEN TRAN, JOHNNY ALT, MAY ZIMMERMAN, JOHN YANG, MONA KOZLOWSKI, STEVEN GARCIA, JANTZEN PEAKE, BRYAN WALTON, ALLEGRA RINGO, JAMIE KARSON, STEVEN GARCIA, MICHAEL VEREMANS, AMANDA KHO, FOLASHADE ALFORD, AARON KOSAKA, ALEXANDRE V. RODALLEC, ELISA TANAKA, KEN CHO, HILLARY CANTU, JASMINE GAGNIER
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, ASI, or of CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff.
NOT PAYING ATTENTION DURING CLASS SINCE 1977
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.
JOHNNY ALT UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
JAMES KISLINGBURY
VICTOR CAMBA
Questions? Comments? MAIL : 1212 Bellflower Blvd. Suite 239, Long Beach, CA 90815 PHONE : 562.985.4867 FAX : 562.985.8161 E-MAIL : lbunion.info@gmail.com WEB : lbunion.com
NEWS STATE OF THE BEACH
YOUR WEEKLY CAMPUS NEWS IN BRIEF
A HOMECOMING 60
JOHN YANG
YEARS IN THE MAKING
UNION STAFFER
It’s November. That means Black Friday, and the lesser known Cyber Monday. Do yourself a favor and don’t buy any electronics until then or you will feel like a fool, and regret it. Also, no one waits outside on Black Friday anymore. That’s so 2002. Grow up and just buy it online. A food drive run by the F&F Club on behalf the Women Shelter of Long Beach will run from November 9th through the 20th. Look for donation boxes in all UTC classrooms and in the Multicultural Center. Thursday, November 12th at 7pm, the first Beer & Politics at the Nugget Grill & Pub will take place, featuring none other than F. King Alexander himself. The event is free, just try not to throw up on the King. On Tuesday, November 10th, at 5pm the Women’s Resource Center is showing 12 Stones, a movie about women in Nepal. We should probably care about women in Nepal. November 11th is Veteran’s Day, and with roughly 25 million veterans, (keeping in mind there are only 300 million Americans) you really should go and visit your local V.F.W, but you won’t, and I won’t. Fun fact: Vet’s Day was originally Armistice Day, signaling the end of World War I and is celebrated internationally (sometimes under different names) and signifies the signing of the Armistice on the “eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.” ARTSweek: Spring 2010. Be a part of the planning and join this important upcoming meeting with the ASI Arts Commission on Thursday, November 12 at the USU Senate Chambers with featured artwork: Jessica Lah, a CSULB painting student. A new bill that passed last week is looking to reduce water use by 20 percent over the next 10 years—which presupposes that California will have water to ration in 10 years, has not been destroyed by debt, drought, the Hollywood ignorati or illegal immigrants and the whole 2012 thing. Gavin Newsom has announced he’s not running for governor, which probably means more Terminator, I mean Governator. If you know some events or cool things going on, sharing is caring. Email us at kevinob.union@ gmail.com or be even cooler and come on down to the office by Sbarro’s (Don’t kill us).
AN END TO YOUR SELF-DESTRUCTION
KEVIN O’BRIEN
T
NEWS DIRECTOR
his November 8th is the first day of Homecoming week, seven days in which to celebrate our university and its 60 year legacy. Homecoming usually welcomes home the football team at the close of the season, however due to the infamous Kaniski and his brutal crimes against our long lost team we are forced to go without. However, filling the void of a football team this Homecoming week is our men and women’s basketball teams, both of which will be playing games over the week. The week of celebration began on Sunday with a 5k Run/Walk, which I ran and you should feel guilty about not having run. The following day the official Homecoming Court Introductions will be held in the Nugget at 12:00pm. The opening ceremony is to be followed up with no activities on the following day Tuesday, only to be followed with the campus being closed on Wednesday
Illustration
AMANDA KHO
UNION STAFFER
for Veteran’s Day. Perhaps in an attempt to encourage students to head home and celebrate Homecoming with their parents at home. That was redundant. When we all return on Thursday, ASI will present a succession of events: highlights include a Student Pep Rally at the Walter Pyramid and a lecture series presented by the College of Engineering titled “The Sustainability Of Our Planet.” The festivities continue into the weekend. On Friday, activities range from the Women’s Basketball Walkover to a game between the 49er girls and Prairie View-A&M. Once you’ve recovered from all the fun to be had on Friday, you can ease your way into Saturday’s festivities. CSULB lists “Campus Shuttle Tours” as a viable activity for Saturday but one might be better served attending the Homecoming game, that being the CSULB men’s basketball game against the University of
Anchorage, Alaska. For those of you not interested in sports, or comradery, or glory, or success there is a panel discussion in the University Art Museum on the “Architecture of Sound Panel Discussion.” Enjoy. Many of you will undoubtedly treat this week as any other, going about your day as you would. However, that would be a disservice to you and the school. This week there is easily something for everyone, much of it cheap or free and all of it easily found on the CSULB website specifically at http://www.csulb.edu/alumni/ homecoming/. With all this activity there is also no excuse not to attend, so stop smoking weed, or drinking beer, or eating, basically destroying yourself, and get out and celebrate your beloved university.
A CULTURE OF INCARCERATION
AMERICA RENDERS HUMAN RIGHTS NULL AND VOID MICHAËL VEREMANS UNION STAFFER
More than 2.3 million Americans are in prison right now—170,000 in California alone. We have a unique relationship with the prison system here, where 1 in 25 people have been jailed at some point. Maybe you’ve been in the can, la pinta, maybe you know someone that has, or maybe you’ve just seen one of the dozens of prisons that mar the verdure of our native landscape. It is no accident that the US has the highest imprisonment rate in the world, indicating that we do not simply have more crime, no, we have an immense culture of incarceration. This draconian notion of justice has been ravaging our population since European criminals were utilized in the forced colonization of the Americas. So it should not be surprising that during
the “War on Terror,” our prison system has been extended abroad. The deadline to close the Guantanamo Bay military detention facility in the Caribbean is persistently pushed back, signaling reluctance on the part of the government to take strong steps to curb the domestic crimes committed during Bush’s administration. There are still hundreds waiting to be released, having been arrested and extradited to this US intrusion on Cuban soil without any sort of due process, and occasionally without even basic human rights. The practice of rendition—the extra-judicial abduction, transportation, interrogation, and confinement of “terror” suspects across the globe—has also been coming under more intense scrutiny since the veil of military se-
crecy fostered by Bush has been pulled away. In the last few weeks, an Italian court has handed down a sentence to two Italian intelligence agents and 23 CIA agents for the extraordinary rendition of Italian citizen Hassan Mustafa Osama Nasr. He was taken from Milan, flown to various countries, before being brought to Egypt, where torture is legal, to be questioned. Of course, Nasr was found to be notguilty, like many other detainees taken to unsympathetic countries, or to prison ships, floating in the impunity of international waters. And while American lawyers are appealing the Italian ruling, other cases of rendition are coming to light, and our obsession with politically motivated incarceration persists at home and in places like Afghanistan.
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
OPINIONS I AM FRENCH AND PROUD OF IT BUT NOT TOO PROUD Alexandre V. RODALLEC
S
Illustration
CONTRIBUTOR
ometimes I laugh (to myself of course) when people tell me that they are “American,” or “French,” or “Spanish.” Yet I also fall into that mentality at times. Nationalism. It’s somewhat of an outmoded concept by now, if we consider how history tends to accelerate. Movements propagate faster now than ever before. It is, after all, the age of instant communication. I have a French passport. It does not belong to me, nor does your passport belong to you, even though you paid for it. It belongs to your government, which ideally should be a representation of you. But if your passport does not belong to you, then maybe your government
does not belong to you? Or maybe it is being held in escrow for a potential sale to you? We can thank Nationalism for such things as the Holocaust, ethnic cleansing in the Balkans, and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. This patriotism, shaped by rhetoric deployed by orators of the then-sitting regime, sprang from expressions like, “They hate what we are” and “Either you’re with us or against us.” And so it was us, us against them. The only logical explanation was that they hated everything that we stand for, and all the good that we spread around the world. The fact that we have toppled democratically elected regimes all over the world
and replaced them with autocratic ones simply could not have anything to do with it. But, here we go, “Yes we can.” This is not a rant about war, although I do admit I talk about war a lot. This is about how great it feels to belong to a group of people. It’s us: Americans, Westeners. We were attacked, and yet most people lost no one. If you associate with the other people in your country based on the notion that they are connected to certain values you share, or that they are connected more closely to you, think again. The degrees of separation are shrinking, and remember how often you disagree with someone about something you consider essential.
JOHNNY ALT CONTRIBUTOR
Show me an American Value and I will show you Americans that do not subscribe to that value, and someone in the Arab world that does. Nationalism is an archaic and dangerous idea. You should devote your energy to caring for those close to you. Here comes a word so intimately linked with that big, red, and scary word Communism: Community. Make sure your own house is clean before you go meddling in your neighbor’s house. Otherwise, your neighbor might jump into an Icarian vessel (not the one that crashed into the sea). Of course, this all depends upon whether this neighbor is of the same nationality as you, like Timothy McVeigh.
MATT ON A HOT TIN TRuTH WHY HONESTY IS STILL THE BEST POLICY MATT DUPREE UNION STAFFER
There is really nothing that I keep hidden any more. I don’t know how I’ve come to this point, but I have to say it’s extremely encouraging on a personal level. Examples: last year I was arrested for the first time in my life, I’ve taken about twice as long as any student should to finish college, and part of that time was spent having a protracted mental health problem that almost kept me from still being a student. And while I won’t say that it doesn’t give me pause to write these things in a newspaper, the lingering shame of these things doesn’t make me want to hide them. In fact, it makes me want to share them even more. Not for my own attention (I have blogs for that, thank you), but because I honestly believe it might help somehow. Maybe putting these things out there will keep me from making the same mistake, maybe it’ll stop someone else from doing the same (not likely, but hope springs eternal), or maybe someone will just take a little comfort knowing there’s someone out there who fucks up more than or equal to the amount they do. But for those of you who can’t (or just don’t want to) broadcast your mistakes to thousands of your fellow students, there are simpler, and more selfish benefits to being honest to a fault. First of all, if you have no secrets, then there’s nothing you have to keep secret. The appeal of this was UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
made doubly apparent in the wake of former Miss California Carrie Prejean’s stunning recent disgrace. Upon the news that she had her breast implants paid for by the Miss USA pageant and then showed off said implants in a graphic sex tape, Miss Prejean dropped her lawsuits and settled out of court (for what I can only assume was a large platter of crow). Ouch, what a tangled web we weave. The second personal boon of outright honesty is also brought to us by Prejean: the ability to speak with complete sincerity. The bible-thumpers and homophobes who supported her now find their collective illusion of propriety looking all the more false, while the honest and open people who fight for equal rights stride on undeterred. A little extra smack of honesty: I had considered writing a lengthy rant about gay rights in the wake of the Maine tragedy. Apparently, I couldn’t leave it well enough alone. Fuck you, Maine homophobes. But enough about them, let’s get back to me. Even writing about this has me feeling a swell of personal invincibility, so why not give it a shot, dear reader? I’m not saying you have to go out and spill your skeletons on the nearest ear, but consider making ridiculous honesty your new year’s resolution (which new year you choose is up to you).
Illustration
BRYAN WALTON UNION STAFFER
ENTERTAINMENT LAUGHING AT YOU, NOT WITH YOU
FIVE UNINTENTIONALLY FUNNY FLICKS (FOR YOUR FACE) ALLEGRA RINGO CONTRIBUTOR
5. The Wicker Man (Neil Labute, 2006) The Wicker Man, about a policeman who goes in search of his ex-fiancée’s missing daughter, features a performance by Nicolas Cage that’s over-the-top on a good day. Featuring such ridiculous sequences as Cage punching a woman while dressed in a bear costume, the film hits its peak with a famously bad scene in which Cage is tortured by way of a mask filled with bees, at which point he screams “The bees! Not the bees! My eyes! The bees are in my eyes!”and flails his face around in such a way that his cheeks produce a jowelly, Richard Nixon-like sound.
4. Crash (Paul Haggis, 2004) The way that Crash makes me feel lands somewhere between amused and full of rage. Its gross oversimplification of the issue of racism (from what I gather, the definition of racism is limited to “saying racial epithets to someone’s face”) makes me genuinely angry. However, I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous character “arcs,” such as Officer Hansen’s (Ryan Phillipe) change, in the span of five seconds, from kind-hearted rookie cop to street-hardened, racist murderer. 3. Live and Learn (Sid Davis, 1956 ) In this short “educational” film, Davis perfects the art of needlessly describing things (via voiceover narration) as they happen onscreen. Intended to warn children about the dangers all around them in everyday life, Live and Learn’s good intentions give way to absurd paranoia as children fall off cliffs, impale themselves with scissors, and suffer third-degree burns on their faces as a result of their fondness for pouring gasoline onto fires. 2. Plan 9 from Outer Space (Ed Wood, 1959) This choice is probably too obvious, but I just didn’t feel right leaving it out. Plan 9, a science fiction film about an extraterrestrial attempt to resurrect Earth zombies, is truly a
landmark of half-assedness. This quality is most notable in Ed Wood’s decision to replace Bela Lugosi, who died while the film was still in production. Wood smoothly replaced him with Tom Mason, his wife’s chiropractor, who looks nothing like Lugosi. No matter, though: Mason holds his character’s cape in front of his face for the rest of the film, and no one is the wiser. 1. The Room (Tommy Wiseau, 2003) The Room has been described as “the Citizen Kane of bad movies,” and it really lives up to this title. This film is so terrible, it’s hard to know where to begin. It introduces plot thread after plot thread, then proceeds to drop all of them immediately and without explanation. During a conversation with her daughter, one character announces, “I got the test results back. I definitely have breast cancer.” Nothing else is ever said about this development. The film is also baffling in the way it deals with basics like blocking and interior space: characters toss footballs to each other indoors, when they’re no more than three feet apart; a character enters a room and sits down behind a chair instead of in it. The Laemmle Sunset 5 has monthly midnight showings—populated by the film’s enormous and enthusiastic cult following—which I highly recommend.
PRECIOUS
MOVE OVER SLUMDOG, BIG MAMA’S PUSHING HER ASS TO THE OSCARS IAN RANDOLPH CONTRIBUTOR
Oscar season generally brings us the most emotional, heartfelt, and “important” films of the year—films that make us question our own ethics, morals, sexuality, and whatever else we hold near and dear. With Slumdog Millionaire taking home the gold last year, some might expect this year’s crop of films to be chock-full of shady game show hosts, swashbuckling Indians, and dance sequences. But this year has given us something different. The real talk has been about the Sundance Film Festival smash hit, Precious. Not only has this film been getting phenomenal reviews, but none other than the goddess of TV herself, Oprah Winfrey, has put her must-see stamp on it. Precious, based on the novel Push by Sapphire, is a rags to redemption story that makes you never want to complain about your daily problems in suburbia again. The film begins with the protagonist, Clareece “Precious” Jones (played beautifully by Gabourey Sidibe) surviving the harsh realities of living in Harlem in 1987. Despite dealing with obesity, illiteracy and a second child on the way, 16-year-old Precious
continues to dream of a better life. Surprisingly, though, she excels academically, and soon finds her possibly promising life shattered when she is expelled from school after her principal discovers her pregnancy. The real conflict in the story occurs within her home, where her father repeatedly rapes her and her jealous mother Mary (played radically against type, by Mo’nique) abuses her mentally and physically. Just when themes seem darkest for the youth, life offers her a second chance in an alternative school on the other side of town. While there, she undergoes a transformation that changes her life forever. It’s here that the film reaches the level of films like Rocky or The Shawshank Redemption. The film bears an uncanny similarity to Steven Spielberg’s Academy Award winning movie The Color Purple. The film’s style is poetic but soulful, giving it the feel of an arthouse film mixed with a Tyler Perry melodrama (Perry picked up the film at Sundance along with Oprah). It’s obvious that Lee Daniels had full control over this gem of a film, and his casting was spot-on.
Newcomer Gabourey Sidibe gives a powerfully charismatic and sympathetic performance. She brings unbreakable, inspiring optimism and unstoppable perseverance to her character making you root for her from beginning to end. Comedian Mo’nique and singer Mariah Carey also deliver stand-out performances. Mo’nique has such a fierce and gritty take on her role that she could make Ursula from The Little Mermaid cry. Mariah Carey plays Mrs. Weiss, a social worker who helps Precious with her financial strains, provides a sincere and natural supporting performance which makes you forget that she was a walking punchline after her acting debut in the shit heap that was Glitter. With these three performances in mind, if Precious doesn’t nab at least one golden statue, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences headquarters should be stormed and burnt to the ground. This film is a must see and a definite Oscar nomination (or winner) in just about every major category. Yeah, Slumdog ain’t got shit on Precious.
4 out of 5 Exclamation Points!
UNION WEEKLY
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WE VE GOT ON THE ’
IT’S NOT YOUR BRAIN ON DRUGS, IT’S YOUR BRAIN ON DOPAMINE CAITLIN CUTT LITERATURE EDITOR
T
he brain is a truly mysterious organ. This weird mass of grey and white matter, which weighs about three pounds, is the most important asset your body has. Your body and your brain have a similar relationship to the one you have with your car. Your physical body is the car itself, and organs like the heart, lungs, and intestines are like major parts of the engine. Without them, you couldn’t get anywhere. But no matter how expensive that car is, no matter how beautiful the engine looks under the hood, that car won’t roll an inch without a driver behind the wheel. Your brain is what drives you through your day, and just like any driver who needs to get from A to B, your brain has only one goal: Don’t die. Obviously, the actual relationship you have with your brain is infinitely more complicated, and more interesting, than the relationship you have with your car. But before we drop this metaphor completely, there is one more comparison left to draw. Just like a car needs a spark to get its engine going, everything you do, from sneezing, to walking, to even reading this article right now, can’t happen without a spark. But, instead of one spark, you need countless sparks to power through even the simplest of actions, like rolling your eyes at this lame car metaphor (which is being dropped now). Basically this is how it works: Tiny electrical signals jump up a network of neurons, or nerve cells. Don’t let the word “cell” fool you, either. These are not the microscopic cells you studied in high school. Some neurons can be over a meter long! This spark is converted into a message, an actual message that passes from neuron to neuron comes in the form of chemicals called neurotransmitters. These chemicals seek out a complimentary set of receptors, which are located at the ends of a neuron. Once that receptor is met, the neurotransmitters and receptors come together like a lock and key. Just after the neurotransmitter is released, and the message travels down the next neuron, the neurotransmitters are then recycled back by a transporter, so the message is not rereleased from the same place. Finally your brain reads, “You are sitting on a tack, move your ass!” This message sets off billions of other reactions because again, your brain is trying to keep you alive. Suddenly, like a general, your brain deploys pain signals and the use of skills such as reflex, balance, and hey, maybe even language. “Shit!” This chain reaction springs from the brain’s unstoppable drive to maintain homeostasis. While you have a billion thoughts in one day, your brain only has one: “Don’t Die!”
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So when we do anything that preserves your survival, like eating, or going to the bathroom, the behavior is processed in a part of your brain called the limbic system, which is basically your own personal reward system. Your brain then releases a specific neurotransmitter called dopamine, which creates a euphoric effect. That feels really good. Your brain uses this “good feeling” as a way of training you to repeat that behavior. Now we arrive at the development of addiction. On the outside, addiction is observable as a simple two-step process: 1) increased focus on and engagement in a particular behavior and 2) the “shutting down” of other behaviors. This can happen to anybody. It’s not just something that happens to “bad” people because essentially, addiction is the slow manipulation of the limbic system. When we’re sad, we say we’re “feeling sad,” but we also say we’re “feeling hungry” or “feeling tired.” Our emotions and our physical senses have a close relationship, too. Although being in a bad mood isn’t the same thing as being hungry, your brain only has one solution for those problems—more dopamine. But dopamine doesn’t come in an endless supply. Your brain can only handle so much over a period of time, and your brain adjusts to the surges in dopamine, created by various avenues of stimulation, by producing less dopamine or eliminating receptors that can receive and transmit signals. After a while, the same amount of dopamine will have a lesser effect. However, the reward system is still intact. The brain still needs dopamine despite the abused brain’s decreased ability to perceive pleasure. This is why people usually describe feelings of lifelessness, or depression when they don’t have access to their stimulant. Eventually, the abused brain literally needs that substance or the purchase or fuck or, for some people, the killing of another person, just to bring the dopamine function back to normal.
Cover & Feature Illustrations
CHRIS FABELA
ADDICTION BRAIN
ADRENALINE, VEGAS, PEE CUPS, AND MY DAD JAMES KISLINGBURY ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR
A
ddiction’s a tough subject. There aren’t a whole lot of laughs involved. Choking on your own vomit, selling yourself behind the Olive Garden or incuring a small nation’s GDP in debt because you don’t know when to say “No” isn’t all that funny. Well, it’s kind of funny. And I would know. Not to brag or nothing, but I’ve got not one, but three addicts in my family. That’s right. Three. Lucky me. Bourbon took my dad’s father to the grave some time in his sixties (as I understand it), my sister got into needle drugs around the same age I am now (I never asked what drugs specifically she got into, but thankfully she’s now over ten years sober and gainfully employed), and my dad is still going strong with his decades-long addiction to beer (he rationalizes that because he’s not drinking “hard alcohol” like his dad, he can’t possibly have a problem). As far as the consequences of addiction go, I guess I am fairly lucky. I was pretty young when my sister had her problems and the main problems of my dad’s addiction to Miller High Life isn’t that he hits me, but that he yells at the TV and calls Charlie Gibson a “liberal.” As far as addiction goes, it’s kind of endearing in a profoundly frustrating way. I guess you could make the argument that my mom’s mother was addicted to smoking, but let’s face the fact: Despite Rob Reiner and a bunch of other pussies, we all know smoking cigarettes doesn’t count. Not really. William Burroughs never wrote a book about smoking cigarettes for a reason. But that’s another discussion for another day. So what is addiction? Well, dear reader, I’m glad you asked me instead of a professional or someone that actually has a degree. Addiction in its most broad and least problematic definition is a behavior or a substance a person indulges in despite the consequences. It’s just that simple. So, while my firsthand experience is fun and all, you should probably listen to the board-certified addiction medicine specialist back you up on the subject. I think he’s a fairly trustworthy source on the subject. You don’t have to accidentally kidnap a baby, chew on a human adrenal gland to the Jefferson Airplane album Surrealistic Pillow, or die in the arms of your prostitute girlfriend to have a problem. You don’t have to be shitting blood, contracting Hepatitis C or living on the streets to have an addiction. You can become addicted to something as stupid as videogames. Think about that. There are people in the world squandering away their youth, their money, and their relationships to acquire fake gold in a madeup world. If that isn’t behaving despite consequences, then I don’t know what is. And this is where we’ve arrived as a species. If there was ever a terminus for our kind it’d be teenagers peeing into Big Gulp cups
and fighting werewolves at two in the afternoon for control over real estate that doesn’t exist. So, what are some telltale signs? First off, if you can’t leave Las Vegas, you clearly have an alcohol problem. There’s nothing about that modern Gomorrah, with the twenty-four-hour-a-day affronts to God that are its buzzing neon lights, its hordes of fan-packed bedazzle tourists shoveling all-youcan-eat salad into their faces, and its endangered animals persecuted by homosexual wizards that sounds like a great place to die in. Nic Cage clearly had a problem in that movie. He died in it and he got an Oscar, so it must be a decent tract on the dangers of addiction. Ironically enough, Mr. Cage has another kind of addiction, one that’s far less sexy than drinking until your liver looks like a raisin. Apparently for the past ten years or so he’s been bleeding money out of his ass like someone with financial dysentery. So, take note: If your net worth is “meteors” and “dinosaur skulls,” you have an addiction. There’s plenty of people who can operate “normally”—hold jobs, have kids, go to school— with an addiction, but that isn’t to say that it isn’t effecting their life in a negative way. Since addiction runs in my family (as I’m sure it does in many of yours), there’s always the concern that I’m going to fall off of a wagon and find myself a drunk. I realize this isn’t how it works, but years of watching TV, movies, and reading books has got me concerned. It doesn’t help that my dad will remind me of this fact every so often with the chestnut “You know, I never used to drink when I was your age.” When a guy three quarts deep into the evening news tells you this, it’s disconcerting. It’s a pretty poor lesson to pull away from this if I tell you that you “Shouldn’t unintentionally lose control of your life to foreign substances,” but, really you shouldn’t unintentionally lose control of your life to foreign substances. Despite the case that cool cats like Raoul Duke, Errol Flynn, and the Cookie Monster make, being an addict isn’t that cool (though don’t confuse this with me thinking that straight-edgers are anything less than sanctimonious jerkwads). So, I don’t know, find a balance? Don’t star in Ghost Rider? Whatever you choose to do, make sure you’re well-informed (hey, read Caitlin’s article!) and make sure that you’re actually choosing what to do with your life. If there’s anything sadder than a drunk, it’s a drunk who thinks that he didn’t do anything to get there.
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
7
SPORTS
#5, Justin Koeppen, throws a yellow ball at a terrified Mario. Koeppan then asserts his dominance by slamming the golden ball into water triumphantly. What is water polo? Help.
WATER POLO LOSES (IN COLOR!) 11-6 STANFORD HAS SOME UGLY ’STACHES, THOUGH
L
ANDREW TURNER CONTRIBUTOR
ong Beach State’s men’s water polo team looked overwhelmed Saturday afternoon. The Stanford Cardinals, third ranked team in the land, had no trouble creating scoring opportunities for themselves all game long. Long Beach’s recent stint against the Pac-10 has proved to be more than they can handle. The 49ers have been outscored in their last two contests against UCLA and Stanford by a combined total of 20-9. With their record now standing at 8-10, Long Beach’s season is in a dire state, and the Beach will have to pull out all the stops in their final three games to
Photos
MAY ZIMMERMAN UNION STAFFER
be able to play when the MPSF Tournament arrives in three weeks. The Cardinals led the 49ers from start to finish. After one quarter of play, Stanford led CSULB 3-2. That was as close as Long Beach would be the entire game. Stanford took control of the game in the second quarter, shutting out the 49ers while scoring three goals themselves. At the half, Stanford led Long Beach 6-2. It appeared that Long Beach was having great difficulty keeping the Cardinals out on the perimeter. 49er coach Gavin Arroyo could only justify his defense’s inability to stop Stanford’s penetrating offense by saying, “They’re number
three in the country for a reason.” Stanford’s Drac Wigo had already recorded a hat trick in the first 16 minutes. The 49ers were having trouble creating opportunities for themselves, and that was compounded by the fact that the Cardinals were playing a very tight defense, committing only a few fouls. Long Beach State managed to cut the deficit on three different occasions after two goals by Alexsandr Petrovic and one by Justin Koeppen in the third frame. However, for every goal that Long Beach scored, the Cardinals had an answer. The 49ers trailed by three going into the fourth quarter. Stanford wasted no time put-
ting the game out of reach, scoring three times in a span of two minutes to extend their lead to 11-5. The well-traveled Stanford crowd rewarded the Cardinals for their effort, drowning out the Beach supporters with chants of, “Go, Stanford!” Long Beach State resumes play November 8th against Cal. Coach Arroyo did not feel that his team had to prove that they could hang with big boys by coming up with a win in their final game against Pac-10 competition. With a strong finish and a good showing in the MPSF Tournament, a bid in the NCAA Championships is not out of reach for CSULB.
#12, Ashley Lee, serves the ball masterfully over her teammates while the audience looks on in awe. On the right, the team displays to everyone how many games they just won (one).
WOMEN’S VOLLEYBALL PACIFIES PACIFIC AND WINS 3-1 I COULDN’T THINK OF ANY OTHER PUNS SO JUST READ THE ONE ABOVE AGAIN. THANKS. KEVIN O’BRIEN NEWS DIRECTOR
Friday night girl’s volleyball, our CSULB 49ers and the Pacific University faced off. Pacific University apparently is a school from San Francisco, but who knows. I will admit to being a little confused, but in my defense last night was generally confusing. The game was confusing, the players and the fans alike. Everyone and everything was just confusing. The first set was pretty standard; the 49er girls classically handled their opponents, all the while scaring the shit out of anyone on the other side of the net or on the sidelines. UNION WEEKLY
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Photos
ANDY KNEIS
SPORTS EDITOR
Everything was going great, we traded the first few points civilly; then we hit 9 points to 6, got serious, and started to control the game, which was over shortly thereafter, 2514. The final point was a return by #15. That girl does not miss no matter how close to the ground the ball is. She will get under it and send it over, no questions asked. It was too easy a win, it looked like the Tigers were confused, and maybe they thought they were playing basketball or soccer or something, because to me it looked
like they were aiming for the net. All I can write is what I saw. All right, time for the second game, another easy win was expected, but the Tigers reared their ugly tiger heads and took a big bite out of us, beating us 25-21. They changed up their game, took it to the net and kept it there for 3 more sets. The second game was just a flurry of bad blocks and awkward ricochets. With the third game we were still at the net, but we were acclimated. We began the game with kill after kill. Naomi Washington led the
aerial assault as usual. The 49er girls held a substantial lead the entire time, you could feel the girls re-focus their attention, shake off the confusion and focus on the win. The crowd didn’t know what to expect with the third set, they were agitated by a few bad calls early on and responded by drunkenly narrating the game. However their fears were abated, the 49er girls traded points all the while maintaining the lead to win the forth and final set and the game 2522, 3 games to 1.
EDUARDO GALEANO & REVOLUTIONISM USHERING IN A NEW SCHOOL OF LIT THEORY
T
LITERATURE
MICHAËL VEREMANS UNION STAFFER
o some, the grand age of the illusive genre called magic realism has become a dead movement: the wonders yielded to the reading public and to the general literary consciousness of our hemisphere, if not our whole world, fading like some sort of trifling novelty. Far from watching a tradition falter, Eduardo Galeano has redefined the narrative conventions of magic realism while developing its aesthetic scope to continue to plumb the wonders of this world and express them creatively. Galeano, and other morecontemporary writers such as Roberto Bolaño have only recently ushered in a new school of literary theory: revolutionism. Eduardo Hughes Galeano began his journey of critical rebellion on September 3rd, 1940 in Montevideo, Uruguay along the eastern deltas of South America. He illustrated his first cartoon for the local Socialist newspaper and was quickly on the way to becoming a prolific journalist, social critic, and author. Because of the subversive nature of much of his writing, which dates back to the ’60s, Galeano has been the object
of institutional persecution in Uruguay, where his books were banned, and in Argentina where the Videla administration threatened him with “Desaparecido.” He has since moved back to Uruguay, which now has one of the most socially liberal governments in the hemisphere. His renown as a creative writer and journalist became widespread in Latin America and even Europe after the 1971 revolutionary release of Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent. Then, last May, Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez gave that same book as an inaugural gift to Barack Obama, somewhat belligerently introducing the English-speaking world to Galeano’s avantgarde brand of New Historicism and epic formal development of the people’s history. And while Obama was making his way through Open Veins the following June, the English translation of Mirrors: Stories of Almost Everyone hit bookstores, only a year after its Spanish publication. This expansive text breaks from the American
focus of many of his past works, introducing a comprehensive and de-centered global history. In concise vignettes, Galeano traces the narrative of human consciousness, from the mythical conception of the world to the underground history of a multitude of people and ideas up to our current political situation. He relies primarily on artists’ interpretations and an intensely researched, bottom-up history to discuss hegemonic exploitation and its oppression of free human expression. Galeano’s aesthetic or theoretical revolutionism originates in his democratic, pluralist view of capitalism’s effect on free
speech, “There is a private property of news like there is a private property of memory, a private property of the right to talk, the right to be heard… Everybody has a voice, the problem is they cannot be heard.” Thus, in his literature and in his life he radically deconstructs this devastating hegemonic machine of filtered agency, showing that our voices are inherent and we have to fight to have them heard. If one lesson can be gleaned from Mirrors, it is this: in a world terminally crippled by capitalism exploitation, revolution is as regular as the tide, as destructive as its tsunamis, and louder than all.
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
MUSIC
DANCING ABOUT ARCHITECTURE
VAMPIRE WEEKEND & AVI BUFFALO AT THE ART THEATRE
KATHY MIRANDA CULTURE EDITOR
I
can only imagine how excited a local Long Beach band like Avi Buffalo must have felt when they found out they’d be opening for Vampire Weekend. Surprised, I’m sure, but how ironic, I thought, that the same overnight fame Vampire Weekend garnered only a year and a half ago would be applied to their opener, a hardly impressive band just out of high school—a cutesy quartet with a lot of growing up to do. As for the lead singer’s knack for guitar crescendos, I could say I was impressed, but even that felt a little exaggerated. I hate to play devil’s advocate, but despite the sincere support I have for the creative forces that hail from the LBC, I can’t compromise quality for LB residency. However, it appears that my opinion isn’t shared by the bloggers of the indie world, since Avi Buffalo not only has a record deal with Sub-Pop, but is also getting recognition, albeit sometimes negative, from media like Pitchfork and Rolling Stone. But really, what is there about Avi Buffalo’s music that we haven’t heard before? Mid-west folk, whiny voices, cute girl on the keyboard? We need innovation, people, we need talent! Sigh. At least they have heart. If nothing else, Avi Buffalo holds on to their fifteen minutes like a true overnight sensation—as if it were going to be over just as fast as it started. On to the real news: Vampire Weekend at the Art Theatre was a hit for Long Beach, to say the least. The sold-out show made the theatre the place to be on a Monday night, and after almost a year of hibernation, Vampire Weekend finally comes out with some new material.
by RACHEL RUFRANO
As one of the few “secret” shows booked to kick off their California tour, the boys from Columbia impress us again with their consistent energy and prep boy charm. I remember them at a previous show last year, full of enthusiasm, and high off their sudden fame, and it was clear that their genuine demeanor was not lost in the making of their new record, Contra. The show in so many words was fun and upbeat, a refreshing reminder of an oldie but goodie. More importantly, I had never heard “Horchata,” their new single, until I heard it live. And it was then, just as I was about to monotonously bob my head to the familiar catchiness of “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa,” did I truly remember the spunk that I loved about Vampire Weekend in the first place.
WEEZER Raditude Geffen; 2009
AARON KOSAKA CONTRIBUTOR
Raditude is pretty awful. I could try to twist my words as to sugar coat it and say that it was a good effort, but I honestly cannot. Weezer is the reason Weezer is dying—they’re trying so hard to be cutting edge, witty, and ironic that it’s affecting the way they write songs. For example, their duet with Lil’ Wayne “Can’t Stop Partying” is completely atrocious. As a Lil’ Wayne fan, I don’t mind his presence on this track, but as a Weezer fan, it just sucks. Other tracks like “Love is the Answer” UNION WEEKLY
make an attempt at being varied with sitar and other interesting eastern influences, but Cuomo invariably ruins it with trite lyrics and poor vocal performance. It’s not like fans were expecting Raditude to be fantastic, though. In fact, I would speculate and say that fans were anticipating mediocrity. Weezer has been a self-parody of their former self ever since Make Believe (some even argue that their decline begins at the Green Album) and it’s disappointing to see a band fritter away its potential like Weezer. Normally, this is the part where I try to come up with some reason that convinces you to give this album a shot. However, the record companies
9 NOVEMBER 2009
already did you a massive favor and released “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” as the lead single. It’s as honest as Weezer gets on this album, and catchy to boot. It shows that Cuomo still has his pop sensibilities and obliquely narrative lyrical styles, but for some reason he is just not writing at his full potential. Endearing touches like the fact the girl is wearing a Slayer t-shirt or the date to Best Buy make the sincerity more convincing.This track kind of salvages the entire album from being a complete train wreck, but it doesn’t completely save it. If you haven’t heard of this album, it’s okay to remain blissfully unaware, and you should just listen to Pinkerton instead.
I read once that men and women listen to music differently. Women listen to certain songs depending on their mood: sad music when they’re sad, classical when they want to relax, dance music when they’re getting ready to go out. Men listen to music and it brings them back to a period in their life: this record reminds him of high school, that song reminds him of his first love, etc. I personally find that I fall somewhere in the middle. I sometimes avoid certain songs so as not to overwrite the memories I used to have with them. But no matter what category you fall under or how you cognitively absorb music, it stands to say that certain songs and albums hit you when you’re ready for them. A friend told me recently that he never really enjoyed Love’s Forever Changes until recently. It wasn’t that he never liked it before, but the value of the music hadn’t come into fruition in his own life until just now.We listen to a lot of music, but it isn’t until we welcome it into our lives that we begin to love it. I always liked Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” and “The Circle Game,” but I didn’t love them until I had come to terms with my own mortality; understood that my youth was fleeting; youth, among other things. It’s kind of like that Tom Waits song “San Diego Serenade”: “I never saw the morning ’til I stayed up all night /I never saw the sunshine ’til you turned out the light / I never saw my hometown until I stayed away too long / I never heard the melody until I needed the song.” At the moment I’ve found that old country music can tell a story about heartbreak and adventure in a way that I was never mature enough to accept before. That’s why I can’t condemn a person for not listening to an album they’ve always had in their library. When the time comes, that album will be there when we’re truly and wholly ready for it. Wisdom and knowledge come through experience and a song can articulate emotions and experiences in a way that can only be felt once we’ve reached that point of understanding. One day a song will pop up on your shuffle, maybe a song that you never really even liked before, and everything will just click. All of a sudden you have a deeper understanding and that song becomes a part of you in a way you never thought possible. A good analogy for me is “Thirteen” by Big Star and Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. Those works captured how I felt as a young adult. But it wasn’t until I was older and I came back to them that I could comprehend how well they captured the desperation and blithe ignorance of my younger life. I worried once that if I listened to too much music that I’d have nothing else to look forward to, but now I realize that I get to hear every song and album again with a new perspective a hundred times over. I get to hear everything for the first time.
MUSIC
BEHIND THE BOARDS // JON BRION SEAN BOULGER UNION STAFFER
In 1999, Fiona Apple released an album called When the Pawn… Her second release, the record was home to a marked expansion of style and palette, thanks in large part to the addition of producer Jon Brion at the mixing boards. Having already built a steady reputation in the rock community by producing critically-acclaimed albums for Rufus Wainwright, Aimee Mann (whom he was dating at the time), and others, Brion lent his broad and eclectic musical arrangements to Apple’s kinetic piano-pop songmanship. The result was a career landmark for both parties, so it made perfect sense that Apple would ask Brion to once again handle production while she was in the studio, embellishing her songs with his exotic quirks and orchestral flairs. The two thusly set about creating the layered and beautiful Extraordinary Machine, but 21st Century music biz tragedy struck when the brass at Epic complained about the “lack of singles.” Rather than pull a Wilco and make rock history (she would have, the original album is a masterpiece), Apple promptly folded, re-recording the album with hip-hop hired guns Mike Elizondo and Brian Kehew. The result, though pale in comparison to its original, was approved and released; the Jon Brion banished to obscurity, unless you’ve got a friend who happened to grab it while it was briefly on the Internet. So now any time someone buys Extraordinary Machine, not only is a masterpiece of an album cosmically bitchslapped in the face for no reason, but another hero of studio production
gets unnoticed—a trend common throughout the history of rock & roll. Since the days of the Beatles and before, the producer has taken a role in the creation of music that has been criminally and routinely overlooked. When working with a band on an album, a producer often takes a role whose relationship to the work could be likened to that of a director’s with a screenplay: the producer will help augment and shape the vision of the band by adding additional arrangements, atmospheric touches, or even by helping write original material to songs. In short, the producer is the mad genius that a band hires to make their album great from behind the curtain. Remember the musical flourishes and string arrangements that made Kanye West’s Late Registration stand out as such an ear-catching and original hip-hop record? Jon Brion can go ahead and say “you’re welcome” for that, and thanks to his unreleased work on Extraordinary Machine, no less. Turns out Kanye heard the pirated version and decided he wanted the same mind working on his second LP. Brion isn’t just renowned for his production skills, either. Though he’s famous far and wide for his ability to make almost any artist sound great (from Dido to Rufus Wainwright), he’s also well known for both his abilities as a singer-songwriter, performer, and composer—the latter of these skills being responsible for scores including I Heart Huckabees, Punch Drunk Love, and Synecdoche, NY. Whether he’s behind the boards or composing a film score, Jon Brion’s work never fails to impress; a quick Googling of his name will take readers to an impressive body of work, and I would strongly recommend investing your time in just about any of it.
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
CULTURE OUR FAVORITE FIENDS W
e indulge in only the best of vices. We sink into gluttonous pools of excess and delight. We are reckless. And contrary to what the doctors and the teachers and the parents would say, our addictions make us feel glamorous and untouchable—most importantly, we feel sane. Let us not forget the cultural icons that paved the way to dependency. Without them, how else would we get our fix?
“
The idea that addiction is somehow a psychological illness is, I think, totally ridiculous. It’s as psychological as malaria. It’s a matter of exposure. People, generally speaking, will take any intoxicant or any drug that gives them a pleasant effect if it is available to them. -William S. Burroughs, Opiate Fiend
”
Tony Stark as IRONMAN, Raging Alcoholic
vs.
It isn’t just Tony Stark’s whiskey-soaked charm and his severe narcissism that makes him so charming, but that he can do both of these things while building war machines, blowing up public property and single-handedly defeating the Taliban and the NVA. Good for him. -James Kislingbury
Charles Bukowski
Dracula, Blood Fiend It doesn’t get more charming than Dracula. His Eastern European good looks and his thirst for young women make him an icon for the ages. Who else can pull off a cape and a top hat—in this weather, no less—but Dracula, Esq. -James Kislingbury
Batman, Addicted to Justice Batman just may be the worst addict on this list. Yeah, he’s ultimately a force for good, but at what cost? His humanity? Probably, but who gives a shit, he’s the goddamn Batman. The dude’s thirst for wronging evildoers even overpowers his want for trim, a sure sign of not only addiction, but dedication to the war on crime. J. Edgar Hoover would be proud. -Joe Bryant
David Duchovny as Hank Moody, Professional Womanizer, Sex Addict Every girl’s fantasy comes in the form of David Duchovny as a cynical writer sowing his oats all along Sunset Blvd. in Calfornication. I could hardly keep my panties on watching Hank Moody drop witty literary references and reverse psychology. It doesn’t surprise me that the act doesn’t end off-set; Duchovny as a sex addict and Hank Moody as the man of my dreams. -Kathy Miranda
Reginald “Bubbles” Cousins from The Wire, Full-Blown Junkie Illustration by Blake Hicks via http://www.behance.net/eblakehicks
Nobody can pull off smack chic like Bubbles. Watch as Bubs effortlessly picks at a scabbed-over track mark and then slides a fingerless-glove through grimy, knotted dreads (is that dried blood and vomit?). His smile is heart-warming, despite being a cornucopia of yellow and blacks, but you can’t help but buy a white tee from the guy—even if you are supporting the heroin trade. -Joe Bryant UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
William S. Burroughs
These two men do not fuck around. In a real fist fight, Burroughs would probably shoot (and kill) Bukowski without an ounce of shame. But in a duel to win the Union’s hearts, ol’ Bukowski sweeps us off our feet. After all, Burroughs is a batshit crazy, opiuminduced recluse; and Bukowski, well, he just appreciated a good bottle of whiskey.
Art
CONTRIBUTOR
STEVEN GARCIA
CREATIVE ARTS
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
COMICS EASY
Forgotten Fall by Jeff Chang
Operation Panda World Domination by Fox
jeff.chang.art@gmail.com
jointheoperation@yahoo.com
HARD
Garage Sketchbook by elisa
Draw. Write. Comic. Send feedback to: victorpc.union@gmail.com Or leave comments at the Union office Student Union Office 239
EASY
HARD
ANSWERS
UNION WEEKLY
9 NOVEMBER 2009
www.elisa-tanaka-garage.blogspot.com
Drunken Penguin Comics by James Kislingbury
Babble Schmabble by Steve T.
penguin.incarnate@gmail.com
stevemtran.blogspot.com
Disclaimer:
This page is satire. We are not ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Oily shit. Send rags to bear.grun@gmail.com
“This Big Carl is about to turn into a Hot Carl.”
Volume 65 Issue 11
Monday, November 9th, 2009
Dead Passenger Goes Noticed on Bus for Eight Hours
Local hobo “Two-Arms” Tim Ward (above) obviously dead riding lifelessly on a LB Transit city bus.
BY SOPHISTICATED BEAR LB Transit bid adieu last Saturday to one of its oldest regulars,“Two-Arms” Tim Ward. Ward died mid-transit, seated towards the front of a city bus, and remained there for eight hours despite his death being obvious to any and all passengers. “Two-Arms” got up bright and early Saturday morning, pulled himself out of his favorite crawl space, and limped his way onto Bus 96. Upon first witnessing Ward
entering the bus, passenger and license revokee Don Twerk commented, “Okay, the bus normally smells like stale farts, hot leather, and exhaust, kinda like a Stater Bros. But [Ward] brought it to a whole new level. This mother fucker was definitely seconds from death.” Once seated, “Two-Arms”— named for his keen ability to keep his upper appendages during Vietnam—reportedly let out a death rattle, then went limp and farted on a child sitting next to him. The parents of the child wish to keep his identity anonymous, however, his name is Ricky Gonzalez. Life-long embarrassment
aside, people could be seen entering and exiting the bus for the next eight hours, knowingly passing the clearly deceased Ward. The passengers of Bus 96 wouldn’t let this little mishap ruin their Saturday. “At first I thought that [Ward] was dead, and then I just assumed to myself that he was sleeping so I wouldn’t feel bad about not calling the cops,” confessed Steelwool Worker, Craig Garrington. “Who wants to deal with that shit on a beautiful Saturday afternoon?” “Mi hijo huele como un culo. Quiero olvidar todo el asunto,” gibbered passenger and area mother, Maria Gonzalez. When questioned as to why he let Ward’s corpse remain on the bus for eight hours, the bus driver replied, “I just drive the goddamn thing, okay?” By the time an ambulance came to pick up Ward’s corpse, an hour after an anonymous phone call was made by the bus driver, rigor mortis had set into the body. What had been a slack position had by this point stiffened into a depressing fetal position, which Ward will surely remain in until he’s buried or burned or whatever they do to these guys. “We got a pit behind the morgue that we toss them into,” said EMT Tyler Fengre.
LBUNION.COM
I’ve Driven Home Way More Drunk Than This OP-ED BY ERIC DINKLE I’m a little confused as to what all the hubbub is about. I have driven home way drunker than this, but everyone is still giving me dirty looks and dubious glances. It’s not looks of jealousy or anything because I am used to those due to the muscles and handsomeness and all. The Eric Dinkle (above) plucking some strings while driving with his knees. He heard something about healthcare passing. other drivers should be clapping for me because my skill lev- I was and also that’s just my style. I el at driving remains skillful despite got in my car and I’ll be darned if I the adult drinks in my belly. They at wasn’t in the trunk for 20 minutes least should be thanking me for lev- before I realized something wasn’t eling the playing (driving) field. right. It just seemed like I was drivThat’s not how things are these ing because I was having so much days, though. Let me tell you about fun. You think I’m drunk now? the world. A guy typing up a pretty This is nothing. good article while driving well with You should have seen me TWO his knees should be getting kudos weeks ago whooo doggy! I hit a from every driver on the road. This doggy. The dog is okay though, isn’t easy! He should get bonus don’t worry because he is mine points for being a little bit drunk, now and we’re friends. Whooo maybe. The cops should pay HIM. doggy! Don’t worry though, I He should be able to yell at HIS ed- poured some alcohol out in every itor for never covering actual sto- dog’s honor. Out of my stomach. ries. No you. YOU’RE drunk. Yeah, ON PURPOSE. well a honk right back at you. You I’m just saying try and get some people don’t know anything, you perspective. I’m not that drunk got empty heads. and I’m a grown man who can take You should have seen me last care of his own self. The diapers are week though, whoooo boy! I was purely a convenience thing. What? saying “whoo boy” pretty much the I’m in the trunk again. whole night because of how drunk Hahaha.
INSIDE
Student’s Sketchbook Filled with Pages of Batman Drawings
Everyone in Class Taking Notes on God Knows What
CSULB student and art-dabbler Drew Schatkis recently lost a sketchbook of his filled with Batman drawings on campus. Upon discovering the sketchbook, Outpost employee Danielle Woolf was immediately taken aback at the number of Batman sketches which reached a manic level of fanaticism. Fellow Outpost employee, John Quoll commented, “One page had a bunch of small Batmans making up a larger mosaic of Batman. Gay.” PAGE ZAZ
Frequent class attender, Jen Hurr, recently entered her 2pm Religious Studies lecture five uncharacteristic minutes late only to find the entire class taking notes on God knows what. Finding a seat, Jen reportedly took out her notebook and looked up to the teacher, Prof. Gilds, hoping to get some clue as to what everyone was fervently writing down. “[Prof. Gilds] was just shuffling through some papers and clearing his throat. I looked to the person sitting next to me and she was writing something that looked like dyslexic math in cursive.” Hurr then had a heart attack. Crazy, right? PAGE 105B
Area Man Tucks in Beard PAGE P8