ISSUE 68.04 KEVIN O’BRIEN
kevinob.union@gmail.com
Editor-in-Chief
ANDY KNEIS
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Managing Editor
CLAY COOPER
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Managing Editor
CHELSEA STEVENS
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Opinions Editor
NOAH KELLY
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Campus Director
KATY PARKER
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Entertainment Editor
MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN merm.union@gmail.com Music Editor
CHRIS FABELA
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LEO PORTUGAL
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Comics Editor Culture Editor
JEFF BRIDGES
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CLAY COOPER
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Actor, Grunion Editor
Art Director/Cover
GABE FERREIRA
Assistant Art Director/Cover
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JEFF CHANG
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CONNOR O’BRIEN
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Head Illustrator Photo Editor/Cover
CHRIS FABELA
On-Campus Distribution
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ANDY KNEIS
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STEVE BESSETTE
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Web Editor
Advertising Executive Contributors:
T
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
his article has nothing to do with sex. However, I needed to get your attention so please continue reading. You may or may not read the Union Weekly on a regular basis, but regardless of your loyalty, I would like to present you with an opportunity, contributing to the Union Weekly. There are no prerequisites and there are no preclusions. You only need to have the will to express yourself. Occasionally students will visit the Union Weekly to comment on some aspect of the week’s issue. Equally as often, my staff extends the same offer that I have in the previous paragraph. Invariably, said student is shocked that they too can contribute. Any student, member of the faculty, or staff member can contribute to the Union Weekly. If you are reading this letter, then chances are, you can write. Every week, we print articles by students of a variety of ages, from a variety of disciplines. Each is minimally edited to preserve the personal voice and intended message of the article. We print articles that border on
slander. We publish illustrations that are deliberately crude. This is not done to achieve controversy, but instead to allow self-expression. It is done because some student, any student, for whatever reason, earnestly wanted to communicate with his or her peers. In truth, you do not even have to be literate. You could take a photograph. You could draw an illustration. You do not have to be a professional. You could use a point and shoot camera. You could tape a crayon into your hand and draw a picture. All submissions are equally valid. The point is to grow through experience. If there were a prerequisite, which there is not, it would be courage. It takes a degree of courage to take a personal thought or feeling and share it with the rest of the student body. But where else in the university are we as students asked to develop courage? Professors are content with a student body that is minimally focused and determined enough to attend class on a regular basis. We are asked to think critically, but we are not
asked to act critically. The Union Weekly is critical action, a method of realizing your university education. It could just as easily be a creative way to tell your roommate that you are not okay with his late night D&D sessions, or it could be a way to warn your fellow student’s about the dangers of pornography addiction. There is a small amount of effort required. You will have to create something. If that something is an article, then I would encourage you to email it to me at kevinob.union@gmail.com, or one of my editors who’se email addresses can be found on the left column of this page. We also have open staff meetings on Fridays at 2pm in the Union Weekly office, located in the USU quad between the Wells Fargo and the Campus Police Station. If you choose not to contribute, then I hope you get bowel cancer. Ask Away!
Finished the paper but still have questions or comments? Send them to the editor at kevinob.union@gmail.com!
ALISON EARNST UNION STAFFER
LILLY
OT SHOT
BOGIE
ENDLY FRI
PHR UM E
Y
MIKE PALLOTTA, PARKER CHALMERS, MATTHEW TOWLES, BRYAN WALTON, JAMIE KARSON, COLLEEN BROWN, FOLASHADE ALFORD, DEVIN O’NEIL, STEPHANIE HERNANDEZ, COREY LEIS, MARY FUHRMAN, DEBORAH ROWE, ALISON ERNST, LISA VAN WIJK, JANTZEN PEAKE, RICHARD LEVINSON, NICOLE STREET, JESSICA MEISELS, KELSEY WEHSELS, TANNER PARKER, KEVIN JORGE-CRUZ, CHRIS PAGE, MICHAEL IACOUCCI, JILLIAN WOLF, DANIEL PEREZ, VINCENT CHAVEZ, MONICA HOLMES, BRANDON STUHL, CHRISTINA MOTT, SHANE RUSING, KEVIN NICHOLSON, CHELSEA HOBBY, SARA HATAKEYAMA, KATIE BROWN, DANIEL SERRANO, JORDAN MAEVE, CHRIS COLEMAN, MARLON DELEON, ALLISON HUITT, JILLIAN THOMAN, KIMBERLY TORREZ, JARRED BLUNK, TYLER STAFFORD, JUSTIN JUNG, WES VERNER, KEVIN NG, JOHN VILENUEVA, GENE KANG, LILLY SEGURA, RON MITCHEL, RACHEL CLARE, ADAM FAY
KEVIN O’BRIEN
H
MARCO BELTRAN
H
Literature Editor
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. 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 may or may not be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length. The Union Weekly will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials and illustrations, but 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 239, Long Beach, CA 90815 PHONE : 562.985.4867 FAX : 562.985.8161 E-MAIL : lbunion.info@gmail.com WEB : lbunion.com
There are no cats that aren’t cute. Each little face is so distinct and lovable that there simply cannot exist a cat who isn’t adorable. This week at the Seal Beach Animal Care Center, there were many cute little cats who meowed cries of “Look at me! Look at me! I’m cute, why don’t you take me home with you?” I ventured into the “Kitten Condo” this week and met Lilly, Hot Shot, Bogie, Humphrey, and Friendly. Within a few minutes, the cats’ personalities were easily distinguishable. Miss Lilly sat high up on her scratching post and just stared at me until I pet
her. She has a very sweet little face and is very affectionate. Little Hot Shot was just chilling in front of the window with her little black goatee. She decided to stretch out while I pet her. She is a very relaxed and cool cat. Bogie would roll over and lay on his back with his feet in the air. He particularly seemed to say, “Hey! Look right here! I am super cute, you should pet me and fall in love with me and take me home with you!” He is very endearing, I kept coming back over to pet him. Friendly is very friendly. She had no
problem hopping onto my lap and making herself cozy. Her features are very striking; she has this little worried look on her face that is very cute. Humphrey is very dignified and proper. He sat back and watched me for a while, but was excited when I finally came over to visit him. How handsome is his little face? Okay readers, it’s your turn to head over to the SBACC (or maybe even sbacc. org) to come visit these furry faces in real life. I promise you that there are no cats that aren’t cute and all of them need you to come give them permanent homes. UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
OPINIONS
Illustration
ADAM FAY CONTRIBUTOR
DEAR
CHELSEA CHELSEA STEVENS
T
OPINIONS EDITOR
his Valentine’s Day, instead of pouring week-old yogurt on poor unsuspecting couples, I decided to do something useful for society. I sent out a notice to the vast campus of CSULB requesting they send me their pathetic problems so I could possibly give back to them by offering mostly helpful solutions. Who needs an Abby when you have a Chelsea? What kind of 18th-century British farmwife name is Abby anyway? Get with
the damn times. It’s Chelsea you want now. Anyway, as apparent by the surrounding wall of text, the amount of responses to my request was overwhelming. I was so glad to see how badly our student body needed me, and while my original good intentions may have been lost in the process of answering them, I at least provided some feedback. You see, what I discovered in this experiment was that the problems people have in this sad wasteland of a commuter
school are simply ridiculous. Do they really think I care about their petty lives? Do they think I live my life to cater to these simpletons? It simply isn’t so. I’d much rather spend my Valentine’s Day lounging poolside at the Bellagio, sending violent splashes into the faces of young couples exhibiting excessive PDA. But I’m better than all that now. I’m better than that, damn it. Screw all of you lovers and haters of Valentine’s day alike.
You’re ruining the meaning of love like Hitler ruined making fun of the Jews for the rest of us, and it just isn’t fair. So I hope you all take an example from my lead and attempt to improve the world this Valentine’s Day. Tell your friend the truth about how you feel about their new haircut, or give an honest criticism to the bitch in your Creative Writing class who only writes poems about her Beanie Baby. Bring back the true meaning of Valentine’s Day.
Dear Chelsea, How does a relatively good-looking dude approach a young lady at CSULB? I thought about going up behind her and shouting, “SURPRISE!” but I don’t know if that would work. She might get scared and suddenly fart herself. But seriously, all the girls at school seem to be in such a hurry, and I feel I would be just a pest, as I’m sure you’re all constantly getting hit on. - Desperately Seeking to Satisfy Boner
wait to sit down in their next class to take them off. If you really want to impress a girl, begin your interaction by offering her a piggyback ride. Intimate touching is the first step to a sound relationship and this is a perfect first opportunity. Whatever you do, don’t scare her into farting, as you’ll promptly receive a heel in your ball sack and be blacklisted by all vaginas for life.
the knowing love that The Real Housewives of Atlanta will look after me when no-one else will. Tell me Abbey… can I be cured?! - The Real Singleton of Long Beach
Lonely Wood, There are a few things that come to a girl’s mind when woods and guns are involved, and squirrels aren’t usually one of them. Mostly it starts with “r” and rhymes with “ape” and it isn’t “grape.” Girls also find squirrels cute and cuddly, and while your father who was probably a house cat might have told you to bring a mangled squirrel carcass to the feet of your lover to impress her greatly, he was a stupid cat and he was wrong. Also your dad couldn’t have been alive for more than eight years of your sorry life so I’m sorry for your loss.
DSSB, The only way you’re going to get a hot girl to stop pretending you don’t exist (because she knows you’re staring and doesn’t want to make eye contact) is if you’re actually as attractive as she thinks she is. Invest in some boat shoes, a button-down shirt with rolledup sleeves, and some dark jeans cuffed at the bottom. If you need some extra inspiration, be sure to read The Sartorialist. Girls love hipsters and guys that look like hipsters, and really, no one knows the difference. Now that she can see you, I’ll let you in on a secret: the real reason CSULB chicks always look like they’re in a hurry is because the heels they’ve been wearing all day are starting to give them blisters, and they can’t UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
Dear Abbey, I’ve become increasingly concerned about my love affair here in the States. It was cool, we started out friends, it was real, but it was all pretend...Oh Kelly, bring back your catchy 2003 tunes. Anyway, where was I? Yes. My affair, my love, my shame and my heartbreak, although this is no Keith Urban remix. I used to be filled with rage and despair, and was able to laugh at those who were interested with intended malice and patronization. Yet I now somehow find myself counting down the ticking minutes until we see each other again. I’m aware of how shallow this partnership is. I’m embarrassed by it, hence the pseudonym. But when we are alone, we laugh, we cry, we throw things, and for a blissful 44 minutes I can escape my reality in
LB Singlet, Look, I understand where you’re coming from. I might even know exactly what you’re going through. But here’s where you go wrong: these things are never, ever discussed in public forum. The same protocol goes for many pathetic sects of society, like girls who play World of Warcraft or men who knit. Your only safe bet is to respect the worldwide taboo and keep those Atlantic BBW’s to yourself. Besides, Bravo’s only worthwhile creation was Project Runway and they weren’t even capable enough to keep that, so fuck ’em. You want some serious drama with intense romance and great make-out scenes that look like they’ll lead to sex but never do? Give in to the Gossip Girl. XOXO. Dear Chelsea, Why is it that girls don’t want to go squirrel hunting with me? - Lonely in the Woods
Dear Chabby, I like fire. Very much. I think I love fire. I want to love fire physically. I want my bosom to be consumed by white heat. How do I do this, Chabby... - Pyrobraniac Dear Pyro, While your revolting fetish is somewhat intriguing, I suggest calling Dr. Drew Pinskey at Love Line. He’ll provide better back-handed responses than I ever could.
Illustration
OPINIONS
CHRIS FABELA
BREAK-UP/COMICS MASTER
Dear Union, I catched some nasty ass shit and this puts my Valentine’s Day in trouble. I wanna have a good time with my vato,be all romantic and shit like how they do it in that movie with that dog who eats spagety with another dog and they end up making out. I always forgot the name of it but I think you know what I’m talking about it’s a faimos cartune movie, my cousin Junior knows the name of it. My man promised me he would take me to Olive Garden he said it was an expensive Italian restorant, where I can’t even hide my hot sauce in my purse so I can put it on the food later (it’s a a sicret trick I evented it) becuse he said he doesn’t want to be emberased. So you know my plan is not to eat the whole day not even hot cheetos, so I won’t think about spicy stuff. Everyone who knows me knows how much I love hot cheetos I love them more than my boyfriend and that’s only becuse I’ve been eating hot cheetos longer than I been with him and hot cheetos taste better, it’s my favorite food. It’s gonna be really hard becuse hot cheetos are the bomb. So anywayz back to the point so this nasty thing I catched was a ringworm it’s all over my body, it gives me the chillis when I think about it. I don’t want no bugs on my body so I took the bus to a free clinic in some other hood so nobody would reconize me, hells no that would be emberesing. And the doctor told me I had it but I told him that I ain’t no hoodrat I don’t go running around sleeping with the homies. So I’m just basicaly explaning to you that it’s not a sexy transfusioal disease I’m no hoe it’s just fungus I catched from petting the dog around the neighborhood who likes to eat my hot cheetos too and I only let him becuse I like him. Stupid dirty dog I don’t like him no more it’s his fault so basicaly my question is should I tell him that I have ringworm that he could probably catch from me? Becuse If I do tell him he’ll probably wanna dump me even if I explain to him that it’s not a vinirial disease (he can be dum sometimes) but if he doesn’t dump me he never forgot to reminds me about our fith date when we had a burrito for
lunch and it gave me a really bad stumake aik that it made me poop on myself, my 82 year old grandpa has the same problem it runs in the jeans. This one time he took a mean ol shit in the car and and the worstest part was that we forgot to put his diaper and worser than that it was a long drive to somewheres I’m pretty sure it was my baby’s cousin bathtism. So yeah that date wasn’t fun becuse the poop went through my pants onto his carseat and I had to throw away my favorite pants and underwear. What should I do? I want to be able to put pictures on myspace of our Valentine’s date so all the haters can hate and talk shit because I know they’re all gonna be jelous but whatevers. Like I always say haters hate me because they wanna be me. Ok so please give me good advice I wanna have a good time but at the same times I don’t wanna lie to him. - The Walking Ringworm Ms. Ringworm, Please, for the love of all that is holy, invest a semester in English 1 and possibly a bar of soap. Trust me, it will do more for you than a man ever will. Dear Abby, So I met this super cute guy at the Rec Center. We talked for a bit and he seemed totally interested in me. I haven’t him since the first week of the semester. How do I find him? I mean, I’ve totally stalked guys in the past but all I got was his first name. Usually I might get a last name too or even a friend’s name. I once lucked out with a driver’s license! Sure he was kinda drunk, but his wallet was on the table. Fair game. So what if I took it out of his pocket? Maybe I should steal the records from the Rec Center or I should camp out in the trees and wait till he passes by. Oh, what about a want ad or maybe a missing poster? I could post them all over campus. He is missing from my life you know! Fuck Abby, why won’t you help me? I thought your name was Chelsea anyways. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!?!? Haha just kidding about all that
shit, but seriously how do I find the man of my dreams? I don’t want to have to kill him or you. Hahaha jokes. - Stalking in Sarasota Weirdo, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re fucking creepy. I don’t how they do things in Sarasota, or wherever the fuck you’re from, but, joking or not, that was a death threat. A simple solution to your single life would be for you to STOP BEING FUCKING CREEPY. But if you can’t stop being creepy, I understand, and luckily for you I hear my boss has some experience with your type and is looking for a date. Give him a ring at (562) 985-4867. (Editor’s Note: This response was contributed by our Entertainment editor, Marco Beltran. Thank you for your words, Marco.) Dear Chelsea, My friend has been cutting my hair for the past couple of months. A week ago, we had sex. I obviously want this to continue because she’s hot and I hate looking for a new place to get a haircut and sounding like an idiot when I get asked how I want it cut. How do I keep this situation going? Also, should I stop paying? If I give her money for a haircut and then we fuck, it makes it seem like I’m paying for sex. - Mikey T Mikey, First off, congrats on the tang! You were obviously successful in applying the tips of the Union’s “How to Get Laid: A Girl’s Guide for Guys.” Those young women give such sound advice. Anyhoo, to be straight up with you, Mr. Mike, you just found yourself the jackpot of sexual situations. You’ve caught the leprechaun and fucked your way into his pot of gold. A girl won’t find anything sexier than a guy handing her some scissors and making her cut his hair before forcing her to bend over and take it. Handing a woman
your hard-earned cash so she can pursue her interests or even a career? Don’t be silly! Sounds like commie talk to me. Get that leftwing shit outta here. Word to the wise, though, just make sure you take the scissors out of her hand before you shove your dick in her or you might not have one when you try to take it out. Bastard. Dear Chubby, My son is a piece of shit and doesn’t kiss his mom before he goes to school. He comes to this school and I want everyone to know that. Thanks for listening. - Angry Mother Mom, Please stop harrassing Tommy. My friends won’t come to our house anymore. Dear Chelpinions, What if I’m gay? I’m not. I’m just wondering. - Worriedpinions Worriedpinions, Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time a concerned reader has submitted a question like this. It’s important to never forget that you’re not alone. Plenty of men around you want to love you and would never want you to feel sad or emasculated like gays often do. Unfortunately, this kind of dilemma is a little over my pay scale. Just make sure to stay away from garlic and wooden stakes, I think I heard that once. Being gay isn’t all that bad though. Many homosexuals see everything in rainbow colors. I also heard that if you tell your girlfriend you’re gay while in bed together one night, you’ll break up, but still live together and gain two annoying friends with voices like dying macaws. Whatever you do, just keep that package wrapped and don’t go near any monkeys, you don’t want to catch the AIDS. Best of luck to you. UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
LITERATURE
TWO READINGS: ONE NIGHT
LIT GROUPIES WERE TORN BETWEEN TWO WRITERS, AND IT WAS PRETTY MUCH EXACTLY LIKE TWILIGHT.
FOLASHADE ALFORD
ROLA ELDANAF
UNION STAFFER
CONTRIBUTOR
Editor’s Note: Two writers covered this event. Here’s their take on what happened. FOLASHADE: Last Tuesday the USU auditorium was packed, all for Robert Pinsky. Had I known this many people were going to show, I would’ve come earlier, but I like sitting on the floor. Pinsky started off by thanking the students for inviting him. He said that this was how your value is judged, by wha young people think.
TEAM ROBERT
ROLA: What made the evening enjoyable was seeing first-hand the enthusiasm Pinsky exuded for not only his own poetry, but for the craft of poetry as a whole. The theme of the night was “making poetry your own instrument,” and Pinsky applied this to each poem he read. He had a knack for giving even the simplest words meaning with a quiet, yet undeniable confidence. One of the most memorable things he said was, “Maybe God can make it better, but Robert has done his best,” in response to being asked when and how he knows his poems are finished.
LITERATURE EDITOR
UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
ROLA: He closed the night by reading “Rhyme,” a poem he wrote that circled back to the instrument theme yet didn’t have apparent end-line rhymes. Like his previous poems, “Rhyme’s” musicality and rhyme were sprinkled throughout the poem quietly and discreetly. I left the reading with a deeper appreciation for the written word as well as for someone who could deliver and say something with pure fluidity.
TEAM TYLER
KATY PARKER For some, it was a Dilts kind of night. A hefty crowd, packed cheerfully into the back of the Barnes and Noble on PCH, enjoyed an evening of wistful love, cold melancholy, and murder. And then the reading began! Those who chose a Tuesday night sans-Pinsky were treated to a six-or-seven-course meal of poetry and fiction, with several local poets of all ages and styles taking the mic. Only a portion of the audience seemed to be CSULB students, and it was refreshing to see such a variety of people performing and listening to creative work. Just after an older man had finished reciting a long poem about what I’m pretty sure were his own “burning” testicles, it was Tyler’s turn to take the stage. He started off the night with a poem, “The Riddle of Steel,” which is published in Beside the City of Angels, An Anthology of Long Beach Poetry (Check it out! You might recognize one or eight of your instructors/ professors/friends as authors) and then proceeded to treat the audience to selections from his novel, A King of Infinite Space. The novel, released last year, follows a Long Beach homicide detective as he at-
FOLASHADE: One of my favorite poems of Pinsky’s is “At Pleasure Bay.” This poem is a narrative of a place he frequented when he grew up in New Jersey. The imagery is so colorful and the history so rich that this poem makes you full. There is a definite melodic rhythm to his poems and his voice. Pinsky paused for a moment to take some questions from the audience. The wisdom he has is amazing. One girl asked if he considered himself an epic poet, but he misheard it as “ethnic.” He answered both versions of the question, saying he would rather be an epic poet.
tempts to resolve the murder of an English teacher (And really, how often does a high school English teacher — corpse or no — get to be an interesting part of any story?) as he grieves the loss of his wife. Dilts read one selection that eloquently explained the meaning of the novel’s title, a selection from a line spoken by Hamlet. What English major could help but enjoy such a night? Tyler also read a selection from his next novel, The Pain Scale, which he said he is just now finishing. What I enjoyed the most about the night was that Tyler reminisced about the fact that this particular Barnes and Noble store had opened during the semester in which he first began in the MFA program at CSULB. He told the audience that he used to come in after class to read and to wonder whether someday his books might someday sit on the shelves in this store. The idea that this community is able to produce and embrace published authors who are also nice, real, live people, is inspiring and exciting. The night was a clear success. Check in with Tyler and find out more about his work at http://tylerdilts.blogspot.com/.
Illustrations
KATY PARKER
LITERATURE EDITOR
ASSISTANT ART DIRECTOR
GABE FERREIRA Layout
MANAGING EDITOR
CLAY COOPER Graphics
SHARING THE
Intro
W
TEARING
STUDENTS RELIVE THEIR WORST BREAK-UPS
KATY PARKER LITERATURE EDITOR
ell this is just the fucking worst, isn’t it? A tiny, cracked red heart glows proudly on the news feed for everyone to see, and you’re sleeping twenty-seven hours a day, and you’ve forgotten how to use the shower. Sure, you’ve got your alcohol/box of Krispy Kremes/twelve-hour Teen Mom marathons to keep you busy, but it can’t be ignored that your life has become a smelly, sad joke. You’re a shell of a person, and nothing is going to
make it okay. And guess what? It’s also Valentine’s Day! I don’t believe that you can call yourself a fully-adjusted person until you’ve experienced something like this. I had a co-worker in his thirties who is happily married to the first girlfriend he ever had. They’ve never been apart. And sure, that’s great for him, but I think he’s missing out. I think heartbreak is the greatest possible opportunity for growth in this life. A breakup is nothing more than an
opportunity to remember how to love, respect, and take care of yourself as an individual, or at least it has always been for me. If you can get past the part where you want to stick your face into a food processor, and if you can decide to be empowered instead of mopey, you will undoubtedly be rewarded in ways very similar to a montage from (500) Days of Summer. Until then, please enjoy the fact that you’re not alone. Here are a few of our
stories from your fellow students for you to enjoy. Hopefully they’ll remind you that things could probably be worse and that someday this all might even be kind of funny. At the very least, maybe you can use this paper to blow your nose or something. We just want to help. Thanks for reading. Go take a shower. (P.S. I now have the best of all possible boyfriends, and I just want all the other fuckfaces I’ve dated to know that. Thanks!) UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
MONICA HOLMES
MARCO BELTRAN
UNION STAFFER
ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR
This isn’t a break up story, but I always associated with it as an event that contributed to the break up; well, that and my inability to hold a conversation for longer than five minutes. It was lunchtime on a cloudy day in middle school. I was sitting across a lunch table from my middle school girlfriend. We were holding hands, smiling, saying nothing to each other like we usually did during lunch. It was one of those rare days we were able to find a small space to sit, since there weren’t enough seats to accommodate everyone that went to that shithole, and thus trashcans overflowed with half-eaten food.
It attracted seagulls. Halfway through lunch, as I leaned in to ask what she was thinking about for the fourth time in fifteen minutes, I felt a cold splash on my shoulder. At first I thought it was food, like someone had started a food fight and I was the first casualty, but when I looked over, there was a large mass of green and white soupy stuff that smelled like rotten milk. I looked over to my girlfriend, hoping to find some kind of comfort or concern, because she had pulled her hands away and I saw a face contorted in disgust. A few days later, we broke up. Shit seems to be a theme in my life.
I am a late bloomer in many ways (still waiting for those boobs, God), and boys came relatively late in life for me. My first real kiss happened in junior year with a boy named Tom, who stuck his tongue all up in my brace face in the middle of a smelly school hallway. Tom wasn’t really my boyfriend, but he did ask me to homecoming. My response was, “Let me think about it.” Yeah, that’s just how good the kiss was. In order to let Tom know I fully intended on staying home for homecoming and to keep
his mouth away from me, I wrote him a breakup letter. I also made him a breakup CD. With one song on it. U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” I mean, really, was I serious? What on earth was I thinking? There are not words enough to describe how painfully embarrassing this story is, but also how fun it is to tell after a few beers. I have since experienced some more graceful breakups, forgiven my 15-year-old self, and am now on the hunt for a man who hates U2 as much as I do.
ANDY KNEIS MANAGING EDITOR
CHRIS FABELA COMICS EDITOR
Allow me to spin you a yarn. The story begins in a rather cliché way: I met a beautiful girl and we fell in love. Unfortunately, I had some pretty awful self-confidence and body images issues, blah blah blah. So, I decided, after two-and-a-half years, that I didn’t deserve to be happy. I broke up with her out of the nowhere. After a few months of binge drinking, I came to terms with the awful mistake I had made and tried to win her back in the form of gifts and very public acts of vandalism. But whoops, she is already seeing another guy. I had fucking blown it. Eventually, the depression started. Lots of drinking, lots of not doing any school work.
After a series of failed short-term relationships, several regrettable sexual experiences, and two suicide attempts, I finally sought out help from my family and Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS). I cannot speak highly enough of CAPS. They were super helpful and very understanding. Throughout the course of my misadventures, I learned a few things: you (and no one else) determine how happy you are, never get drunk and have sex with someone upon first meeting them, if you have a good thing going don’t fuck it up, and your wrists are surprisingly more sinewy than Hollywood would lead you to believe.
MARLON DELEON CONTRIBUTOR
I shipped off to Navy boot camp not two months after graduating from high school. Being raised to “wait until marriage,” the stories of sailors and whores freaked me out. My recruiter placed things in perspective by asking me, “Who says you can’t meet your wife in the Navy?” and so my 17-year-old, V-card-carrying butt shipped off. In Illinois I met my first, and we were engaged before I transferred duty stations to South Carolina. Suddenly, she stopped returning my calls, and when I finally got a hold of her weeks afterwards, she told
UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
me she tossed the ring out of her car on the freeway and slept with someone else since we were done. She claimed that I wrote her a nasty letter explaining why we couldn’t be together. I wrote no such letter. When I asked to see said letter she said she had ripped it up and tossed it out the window with the ring. Someone else had typed her letter that had my signature copied onto it from papers that were on file, but it was already done—she had cheated, I was crushed, and my purity for my eventual wife was forever dashed.
Back in high school, I played football for whatever reason. In addition to months of practice during the Fall, one of our duties as football players was to go to a miserable week in miserable Reno, Nevada. It was not a fun trip. We took a train that took about eight hours, then once you get to Reno there’s dust everywhere and we had to stay in terrible dorm rooms with three fat, smelly footbally players. There weren’t even washing machines, so we had to walk around with gross damp butt pads and pants. Also, we had three practices a day in the heat and altitude of summertime-Reno. Where does the break-up come into this? Just be patient, I’m setting the mood, okay asshole? This is my horrible life. Somehow, I briefly had a girlfriend during this time. Since cell phones were still in their infant stages and texting wasn’t really a thing that people did, our communication was only a couple calls during the week. Everything seemed fine to me, but then again, I was a high schooler, which have been proven by science to not know anything at all about anything. As a “treat,” we got to spend the last night of the week at a hotel in Reno. The pure energy that is downtown Reno overcame some of my football friends, and a bunch of them got drunk somehow and did dumb things. One guy (who was 16 by the way) got a big tattoo of a cross on his arm, and 15 minutes later was crying behind the blinds in his hotel room. But that’s beside the point. Fast-forward to later in the night, my roommate was puking loudly in our bathroom, and I was standing in the doorway in case he needed me to shove a lung back into him when it fell out. You all know where this is going. My ancient cell phone rings in my pocket, I pick it up, and I am dumped with the soundtrack of a puking roommate while
a sweaty butt pad sits in my bag somewhere else in the room. It was such a bizarre night, I almost convinced myself it was a dream the next morning. Yes, I’m aware how sad that sounds. This is my life. Epilogue: after going through my firstever (relationship) dump, I decided to bounce back by getting a job at a local theater. Like I said, high schoolers don’t know anything. One day, a co-worker who went to my ex-girlfriend’s school came up to me and said, “Hey, so I heard you like to beat girls.” I was completely shocked. I could only assume it was a joke and replied stupidly, “Oh yeah, I do it all the time.” “No really, [REDACTED NAME OF EXGIRLFRIEND’S FRIEND] said you abused your girlfriend,” she said, thankfully realizing I was being facetious. I denied the story, and told my co-worker that I wouldn’t dream of doing something like that. I am a very docile, cowardly man. Nothing ever came of these allegations, and I have yet to speak to this ex-girlfriend. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding on somebody’s part, but still, those few weeks were still pretty shitty, and it was quite a way to be introduced to dating. Happy Valentine’s Day, losers. DISCLAIMER: for anyone reading this looking to be offended, I in no way think that any kind of violence towards women is humorous, and I acknowledge it is a very serious, and very real problem in our society that deserves more recognition for its victims and justice for its numerous perpetrators. This story is simply a glimpse into the unfortunate events that, when put together, make up my life. Thanks for reading.
LILLY SEGURA
RACHEL CLARE
CONTRIBUTOR
CONTRIBUTOR
Once upon a time, there was a guy in my life. He didn’t bring me glass slippers or fill my room with roses or whatever these fairytale boys are supposed to do. In fact, I don’t think he had ever been acquainted with the idea of boy-girl communications or even educated in matters of general hygiene, for that matter. No, this boy did not come with minty fresh breath or much of a personality, but Mr. Brick Wall over here still decided that he should call me up every night to “talk” because that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do. And by “talk,” I mean that he just breathed creepily on one end of the phone while I tried to wrestle a conversation out of him night after night. One night I decided I would just shut up and let this boy start up a conversation on his own, give him a bit of awkward si-
lence to propel him into some decent train of thought. And what does he do? He sits in absolute silence on the other end for 10 minutes straight. Um, yeah, that shit doesn’t fly, buddy. It was time to let this boy go and torment someone else with vows of silence. I kindly (or maybe not so much so) told him that that was it, I couldn’t do this anymore, blah blah blah. Instead of disinterestedly agreeing, he broke into tears. Really? Are you fucking kidding me? You leave me staring at a wall for 10 minutes and cry when I want to break up with you? You know what, go back to middle school, pick up a goddamn hobby so you have something to talk about in your life—because no, Tenacious D cannot legitimately qualify as your favorite band—and grow a pair while you’re at it.
I detest the mere partial thought of you, because I won’t allow myself the whole memory. When I think about time wasted it makes me want to cringe. You invade my dreams and they turn into nightmares full of anxiety and fear. Much like the same anxiety I felt when we spent time together during our last days as “boyfriend and girlfriend.” That loathing is a projection; I’m actually mad at myself. For staying with you so long, for wasting so much time, for being blind and believing your words. In the end I got what I wanted, and I’m still unhappy. I hope the unwanted freedom has served you well and you have taken that time to improve yourself. Because even though I let go of a part of my past, the present is dismal. But I did it for your own benefit. You were much too blind and much too submissive. I hope that, retrospectively, you now realize how awkward and drawn-out you made it for me. Or rather, how much I sugar-coated it for
you because I ended up hurting you more than I had originally intended. The useless memories, both good and bad, are only there to cause discomfort. You’ve been dead to me. Why can’t you stay dead? Why do you insist on living on in my intruding thoughts and the lips of my family members? Whenever I hear your name I pretend not to remember who you are. My brain has ejected the bulk of our “relationship.” My mother tries and tries to remind me of past occurrences, but my mind refuses to acknowledge whatever interactions took place between the two of us. I can’t believe I dated someone like you. I can’t believe I let you inside me after all your stupidity. After all your criticism, after your fuck-ups. I can’t and won’t allow myself to love someone like you again. “Do you have an opinion, a mind of your own? I thought you were special, and boy, was I wrong.”
LUKE JORDAN CONTRIBUTOR
Let’s face it: breakups are never fun. What’s worse than a breakup? How about a breakup that coincides with your coming out of the closet? Yep. Just not fun times. I have had several girlfriends since middle school despite having always experienced attraction toward men on a subconscious level. Okay, maybe sometimes it wasn’t always so subconscious, but I was convinced that I could convince myself that I actually liked girls (ha). So about a year and a half ago, I started seeing/dating one of my best friends at school. At that point in my life, I had accepted my attraction to men, yet I was desperately hoping that I hadn’t gone fullblown gay. She and I “hung out” for a few
months and I even ended up going home with her for a family holiday function. Everything was relatively okay until I made the mistake of drunkenly sleeping with a dude at a party one night. Just… bad news bears. Did I just man up and tell her about it like a normal, considerate human being should have? Of course not. That would have been far too courteous. Instead, she got to hear about it from literally everyone but me. Fail! Fortunately, we were miraculously able to salvage our friendship. I would highly recommend not using my story as life inspiration should you find yourself in a similar situation—breakups suck enough on their own!
MARLON DELEON CONTRIBUTOR
When I’ve already “checked out” of a relationship I break up with her very shortly afterwards—regardless of the day or date. Honesty is the best policy, right? All day, everyday. One day, when I was still in the Navy, I decided to stay on base and wash my car instead of going back to my apartment (which my girlfriend had a key to) after work. After finally answering the phone calls I had spent the last hour ignoring, I confessed that I was on base washing my car. The next thing I knew, she pulled up in
her burgundy Cougar and got out of the car with the largest gift basket I had ever seen, let alone received (or almost received… read on)—balloons, stuffed animals, candy, and more in every imaginable shade of red or pink. I told her I couldn’t accept the gift and she finally stopped offering when I told her that I couldn’t pretend anymore. Happy Valentine’s Day was a misnomer that year, but it was the only year I wanted to be single on February 14th. Honesty set me free and honesty is still a part of my life today. UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
CAMPUS
SCHOLARSHIPS ABOUND THERE’S MONEY IN THEM HILLS, AS LONG AS YOU WRITE AN ESSAY COLLEEN BROWN
I
UNION STAFFER
’ve heard throughout my life that there are thousands upon thousands of dollars just waiting around to be claimed—if I would only apply for scholarships. It seems like an easy enough process: find a scholarship, write an essay, receive money. But trying to dig through websites like fastweb.com can be a daunting experience. There are literally over one million scholarships out there, and it can feel impossible to find the one that suits you. And even if you do find one, it can be difficult to know how to apply. I sat down with Valerie Kelsey, the Coordinator of University Scholarships, to help you find out everything you need to know about choosing and applying for scholarships. Cal State Long Beach’s Center for Scholarship Information website has extensive information on thousands of scholarships offered. Visit www.csulb. edu/scholarships, go to scholarship search, and search by category. You can choose your major or a potential area of interest for you and browse through the awards they have available. This is the simplest way to find a scholarship for you, searching through the database by alphabet will leave you searching through thousands of options, and while searching by deadline can show you upcoming scholarships, there’s no guarantee that they will pertain to you.
There’s a notion that there is a routine lack of application for scholarships, but that’s not true at all. Thousands of students apply for them every semester, which leads to an important point: do NOT wait until the day of to turn your application in. If anything goes wrong, it is highly likely that you won’t be able to fix it, and you won’t be able to be considered for the scholarship. According to Valerie, it happens all the time, so don’t let it be you. Now is the time to apply, in spring semester. Typically there are awards you can apply for in fall and spring semesters, but most organizations are moving towards spring only applications. There will not be nearly as many scholarships available in the fall, so apply this semester. Apply for as many scholarships as you can. There is no limit to how many you can apply for or receive, so go crazy. If you are also using financial aid, there is a small possibility that your package will be adjusted if you receive several scholarships, but you can decline scholarships if you receive more than you need. The numbers of scholarships given out are not always set in stone. The Tony Ferris Memorial Scholarship, for example, says it only gives out one $2,000 scholarship, but several times they have given out more to accommodate students who wrote excellent essays. Don’t be discour-
LOVE AND FAULTS
aged if you see only a small number of awards available—apply anyway. The most common mistake students make is not answering the question asked, or skipping a component of it. Make sure you read the question carefully, and answer it as thoroughly as possible without exceeding the page or word limit. You might think you’re going above and beyond by writing more than what is asked of you, but you are actually losing yourself points. Just do what they ask. Ask professors in your department about scholarships they know about. The Center for Scholarship Information doesn’t receive information from every department, so asking around or visiting your department will help you unearth more scholarship opportunities. And talking to your professors about scholarship possibilities is a good idea anyway, the faculty and staff of CSULB are the ones who choose who gets the awards. The most important thing to remember when applying for scholarships is to make an effort—there is absolutely a scholarship for you, but you have to be willing to look for it and put in the time to apply. Start looking online for opportunities, and if you still have questions send an email to Valerie Kelsey at scholarships@csulb.edu (she’ll get back to you within 24 hours on weekdays) or stop by the office, USU 238.
MIXED DOUBLES AND OTHER PUNS NOAH KELLY CAMPUS EDITOR
It’s Valentine’s Day, and over the weekend “love-love” was in the air over at the tennis courts. Long Beach State was host to CSU Northridge and served up a stunning defeat on a bright and sunny Saturday. Starting off the afternoon was a trio of doubles that Long Beach State lost 2-1. Long Beach’s lone prevailing doubles team of Sarah Cantlay and Julie Luzar held off a narrow 8-6 win over CSUN’s Jaworowski/Yang. The women’s tennis team proved that love won’t last with too many faults, but there was nothing to not love about Long Beach’s heart-racing performance at the end of the matches. Anais Dallara found herself down one set into the final tie-breaking match of the day. Rallying her spirit, Dallara UNION WEEKLY
Photos
CONNOR O’BRIEN
YOUR WEEKLY CAMPUS NEWS IN BRIEF JOHN YANG
HATES WOMEN’S BASKETBALL
So it’s Valentine’s Day, and you can’t stop bad mouthing Hallmark and this completely awful and unnecessary day where people act out clichés, that’s okay. I’ve got some things that’ll keep you busy this week all by your lonesome self: Monday, February 14, come to the Women’s Resource Center will be holding Search & Secure an Internship from 1pm-2pm. Get yourself over to LA3-105 and maybe you’ll get something useful out of college. Also on Monday you can literally give heart juice to those who need it. Donate blood at the USU ballrooms from 10:30am to 5:30pm. Tuesday, February 15, there’s a whole bundle of stuff happening. First off, if Valentine’s Day surprises melted your icy heart, you’re not too late to donate more blood in the ballrooms. Also on Tuesday there’s Job Search Essentials: Resume Writing in Brotman Hall 250 from 1pm-2pm. 1pm-2pm In the SRWC, up at the Beach Balance office Connection with Friends, Partners and CSULB will help you figure out where all your dumb highschool friends went. Wednesday, February 16, Men’s Basketball takes on UC Riverside at 7pm in the Pyramid. Also if you think sports are for stupid jocks, you can swing by Peterson Hall 2 at 4pm to check out a seminar for Complex Molecule Synthesis as a Fuel for Discovery.
PHOTO EDITOR
closed out the next two sets to send Long Beach State to a 4-3 victory. The victory sent quite a fuzzy feeling among the crowd. Quite the racket was heard from the fans in between points despite the overbearing sun and heat in this intense four hour battle. Long Beach State came into the day’s match undefeated in the Big West, and 3-1 overall. Ranked #43, they cemented their position at the top of the Big West with a win over CSU Northridge. Just like saturday, women’s tennis will be really heating up in March as the girls play a string of five home games. Until then, be sure to check out the next home game on the 25th as Long Beach State gets a grip on UC Riverside. Sarah Cantlay and Julie Luzar walk away from a point well earned
14 FEBRUARY 2011
STATE OF THE BEACH
Thursday, February 17, Women’s Basketball will take their turn against UC Riverside. We’ll see who is going to avenge who. 7pm at the Pyramid. Friday, February 18, our resident non-scummy Dirtbags will be taking on Cal State Fullerton at Blaire field at 6:30pm. Saturday, February 19th, round two of Dirtbags vs CSUF will take place at 5:30pm on the Blaire Field. If you didn’t see the game on Friday, you should come out. But if you did see the game on Friday, well then you probably won’t be surprised. In other campus related news, intramurals are getting geared up, so visit www.asirecreation. org to get your team together and pay a lot of money. The SRWC is also still hiring, so get up on that too.
CAMPUS
FIX THOSE VALENTINE’S DAY BLUES COUNSELING AND PSYCHOLOGICAL SERVICES: ALWAYS A SHOULDER TO CRY ON NOAH KELLY CAMPUS EDITOR
Valentine’s Day, like other holidays that are predicated upon being social, can cause a lot of anxiety and unrest among those who prefer to fly it solo, or those with no choice to. Stress happens to a lot of students for a variety of reasons, not just loneliness on an arbitrary holiday. For this express purpose exists on campus, in Brotman Hall, the Counseling and Psychological Services, or CAPS for short. This entirely confidential service is provided to enrolled students at absolutely no cost. Inside the CAPS offices are nine fulltime psychologists and three doctoral interns. There is also a case manager and psychiatrist also on staff. “We’re here for students. Our philosophy is ‘if it’s important to [students] it’s important to us,” says Brad Compliment, Director of CAPS. What he means is that there isn’t a reason too small to go to the CAPS offices. There is no reason to feel embarrassed about seeking help for stress, anxiety, or depression. “If you don’t have any anxiety or stress, then you aren’t doing anything,” says Compliment. Every day life can be stressful, especially school, work, and social relationships. Anxiety and depression are the number one and two reasons why students visit the
CAPS, social relationships being the third. The CAPS is there for students overwhelmed by school or their significant other, even if their “problem” doesn’t seem that big. The problem students encounter, though, is that sometimes students don’t even know, or want to tell themselves they are depressed. This problem, Compliment attributes to, is “America is culturally closed off. In the past, mental health has been seen as a negative, ‘you are broken and need to be fixed,’ but really mental health is just the same as physical health and is a positive part of life.” Compliment and his staff help to destigmatize mental health so that students do not feel self-conscious attending sessions with a professional, but CAPS needs help. 92% of the students who come in say they were referred by word of mouth, according to surveys CAPS conducts during the semester. And with CSULB’s obtuse website, that’s not surprising. Finding useful information is a chore, and could easily deter students who are already under the impression that their stress isn’t important enough to seek help. Another issue is that even with the nine full-time psychologists, three doctoral in-
terns, and the three part-time psychologists that provide extra support, CAPS does not meet suggested International Association of Counseling Services professional to student ratios. The suggested ratio is stated as “Every effort should be made to maintain minimum staffing ratios in the range of one F.T.E. professional staff member (excluding trainees) to every 1,000 to 1,500 students,” according to the IACS website. CSULB doesn’t even come close to the 1:1,500 ratio, let alone 1:1,000. CSULB is more realistically 1:2,200, if not worse. Despite the short comings due to budgetary problems, CAPS still is farther reaching than just their offices in Brotman or their harder-to-find-than-necessary website. CAPS can be found in the Student Recreation and Wellness Center in the form of Beach Balance on the second floor, where nutrition and exercise advice can be acquired. CAPS also trains teachers, faculty, and RAs so that they can identify student needs and refer them to the CAPS offices. And even though they are understaffed, and sometimes appointments are forced to be waitlisted, CAPS has a full time therapist responsible for walk-ins.
The most important aspect of CAPS is that they understand that school is not the student’s life, but merely just a part. “We are experiencing students who are living their lives outside of here,” Compliment says. He wants students to know that CAPS can, and will, listen to their concerns and be able to relate to them. “We engage students in their lives,” Compliment says. Not every student needs to be prescribed pills, or even requires long running treatment. “The experience of just talking, and someone listening is part of the relieving process. It can be cathartic,” Compliment explains. And because the CAPS is entirely confidential, students do not have to worry about what they say leaving the CAPS offices. Doctor/patient confidentiality extends beyond CSULB, and not even CSULB administration can plumb the CAPS records. CAPS is here for students, so that they may receive assistance in all facets of their life, not just in academic pursuits. CAPS can be found in room 226 of Brotman Hall, or students can go to their website and also participate in an entirely anonymous online screening test at www.csulb.edu/caps.
UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
MUSIC
TITLE ILLUSTRATION CONNOR O’BRIEN PHOTO EDITOR
KENNY POMEROY CONTRIBUTOR
JOHN VILLANUEVA CONTRIBUTOR
GENE KANG CONTRIBUTOR
MARCO BELTRAN ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR
1. Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains D.I.Y. Orgasms 2. Hagar The Womb - Dressed To Kill 3. MDC - Dick For Brains 4. Bessie Smith - Empty Bed Blues 5. Man Man- Whalebones 6. Andrew Jackson Jihad - Love Will Fuck Us Apart
1. Marvin Gaye - Let’s Get It On 2. Iron and Wine - Such Great Heights 3. Hall and Oates - You Make My Dreams Come True 4. Jack McDuff - Ju Ju 5. Interpol - Evil 6. The Temptations - My Girl
1. J oanna Newsom - Does Not Suffice 2. Beach House - Silver Soul 3. Feist - Let It Die 4. Pavement - Range Life 5. Vampire Weekend - I Think Ur A Contra 6. The-Dream - Love King
1. The Cramps -Green Door 2. Cut Off Your Hands - Expectations 3. Architecture in Helsinki - The Cemetery 4. Screaming Females - Boyfriend 5. Head Wound City - Thrash Zoo 6. Bear vs. Shark - Six Bar Phrase Hey Hey
Well, it’s that wonderful time of year again where we celebrate some Irish priest for taking all the snakes off the motherland by buying our prospected procreants high-fructose based foodstuffs. In other words, you get to play your role as a cog in the Hallmark machine that profits off of your fleeting emotions and your worst fears of waking up alone in the morning and wondering where the last 20 years went, only to realize that you have gotten a cavity from all the See’s candy. When you get up from your cold sleep, instead of spending all of your effort walking to CVS, get on to your nearest computer machine, log onto the interweb, and listen to this classy set list that I so painstakingly conjured up for you instead of California dreaming on such a winter’s day. Hopefully, these songs will remind you that those feelings you have for other humans on this fateful day are merely consumer-driven, prefabricated attempts to make sense of a confusing and hurtful world where you are surrounded by people who more than likely hate your fucking guts and who will sell their souls to match an endorphin rush that can be achieved by simple physical contact— save yourself some money and grief. Go kiss some motherfuckers on V-Day.
Valentine’s Day is a time for lovers to embrace in the fiery throes of passion. A time for those less fortunate to embrace their Haagen-Daz and Lost DVD collection. A time when love forms a blanket over the atmosphere, forming tiny droplets of dew that fall upon unsuspecting lovers, wetting their desires (and other things). The time, of course, is Black History Month (Valentine’s Day), a time solely dedicated to unrequited love and expensive gifts. However, one does not need to rely upon the service of an expensive gift, as a well-executed mixtape can get the job done just as well. Start with Love’s theme song, or the ultimate “this creep wants to rape me” song: “Let’s Get It On.” Then step things up with Iron and Wine’s bearded take on Ben Gibbard’s pop tune. Shake (don’t stir) until contents are liquid smooth. Run through lo-fi recording. Combine with a night walking through a park under the moonlight. Bam! Relationship ensues. Appeal to her pop culture loving side with this Hall and Oates tune from (500) Days of Summer. Girls love that movie. Now that your relationship is going strong, you need some sophisticated funk, and that’s where “Ju Ju” comes in. Interpol’s “Evil” is there to remind you that sometimes shit doesn’t work out. Finally, The Temptation’s “My Girl” is the perfect score to your love festivities.
It goes without saying that there is no good time to end a relationship, but it is perticularly hard to deal with during Valentine’s. Here are six songs to ease the pain. Joanna Newsom’s “Does Not Suffice” reminds me of packing up my ex girlfriends things after a painful break up. “Silver Soul” is about a relationship that slowly faded away into something that they took for granted. “Let it Die” is a song a friend recommended to me after a little after my own experience with a breakup. It is the start of something entirely new and having someone completely departed from your life and forming a new, untouched beginning. Last summer, I did a lot of driving around and listening to Pavement. “I want a range life, if I could settle down, if I could settle down, then I would settle down.” I am really ashamed to say this and I don’t usually tell people of how my ex-girlfriend broke up with me, but she broke up with me over a text message. She told me that she no longer wanted to be in a relationship and that she wasn’t ready for settling down. What’s funny about “I Think Ur A Contra” is that when my ex-girlfriend and I were dating, she would always tell me that if we ever broke up, this song would be the epitome of our relationship. Finally, there is “Love King,” a triumphant jam that will turn any sad sack into a Sex Machine.
I think my girlfriend is going to work on Valentine’s Day, and I’ll be either watching a movie on Netflix in my boxers, so there won’t be any romancing going on in my household. Who has the time to do anything on Valentine’s Day anymore? Maybe my parents will be doing that stuff, assholes. I know my mom gets mad when my dad doesn’t bring at least some flowers. Plus, I’m not the most romantic person around and in the three years (in June) that we’ve been together, we’ve never made a big deal about cards and that expensive stuff (I spent all my money on food. Take that, starving children). I guess you could listen to my playlist while having sex. I know they’re not your typical romance-your-pants-off songs, but give them a chance! Just set out the fine china and some candles, put out your boombox or whatever you use to listen to music, and let the boners fly. I’ve never actually tried these songs, or had sex for that matter, so I can’t guarantee this will work. I put the songs in order from slowest to fastest, so that it can set the tempo to your lovemaking. The last song is only 28 seconds long, so you better finish in like 20 minutes or I’m going to look like an asshole. Play the songs backwards for all you Gothic newbies, or if you want to up the spook factor in your crotch slapping.
UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
ENTERTAINMENT
The devil’s anus The only way out of this hole, is to not watch sanctum Steve Bessette UNION STAFFER, WHITE
D
on’t bring your girlfriend to a 3-D movie. Just don’t. Unless she’s a total idiot and likes the worst things ever in the world, then by all means, bring her. My English teacher told our class that bringing his girlfriend to see Titanic in theaters was the longest foreplay ever. If your girl is one of those dumb-dumbs, then Sanctum might be another James Cameron production that will make her really emotional and want to cherish the people in her life (you and her BFF, who according to her is actually a “total cunt, but whatev”). But if she’s got a brain in her head, then most likely she’ll see the pitiful holes and lack of genuine entertainment this movie has. And how James Cameron and his 3-D technology are the devil’s testicles. Okay, wait, maybe there is one teeny bit of entertainment in Sanctum in how laughably awful the repetitive nature of death is presented in this movie. In real life, I’m sure the events that occurred were a lot more jarring and horrible. But the movie is just shy of two hours long, so the fact that main characters are dying left and right comes out
being ridiculous. There’s a tough Australian guy with his bratty teenage son leading other tough Australians that Ioan Gruffud (Mr. Fantastic in Fantastic Four) is in charge of exploring. Every single turning point in the story, someone either falls down and crushes “EVERY bone” in their body, gets their scalp caught in a rope clasp thing, gets the bends and gurgles blood, or asks their douchebag, bad actor son to drown him. The only one to survive is the kid, who finds an opening and crawls out onto a beach with slow-motion that was edited in post-production. He learned a lot from the father he never knew, he said. What a tool! That’s seriously the plot. It’s flat and any emotion they try to inject doesn’t work at all. Sanctum is a drama, technically. There’s a problem with dramatic movies being presented in 3-D. First thing, this shit’s not even 3-D, in terms of what idiots think 3-D is (like meteors and boobs jumping out of the screen toward you, which they tried promoting in the ‘50s). 3-D nowadays has a shoebox diorama effect, where there are just layers of
images presented at different depths. This is why, depending on how shallow the depth of field is in a certain shot, you can take your glasses off and it’ll look totally normal. There’s a few close up shots of people crying and junk, just them in front of an inner-cave background. It looks normal! This is bullshit! Another place where this looks terrible is in all the scenes that have rain pouring down. The rain in 3-D doesn’t look normal at all. It just continually reminds you that you’re watching the makings of a rich hack. The second point, wrapping into that last sentiment: the strength of the drama is severely weakened by the effects. The Sanctum script already sounds like it was written by a ninth-grader who got a screenwriting book for an Easter present and the acting is cheese at its shittiest. It’s not even funnybad, it’s just bad. That Ioan Gruffud needs to do a grindhouse or a Uwe Boll movie. He’d be perfect for that. Anything Cameron and the nobody director tried to make compelling, definitely was hurt by the fact that you couldn’t get over that this movie was desper-
ately, with all its heart, trying to remind you you’re watching unmotivated 3-D. Even if you’re single, just don’t watch this. If you do you will ruin your life and contribute money to the assholes of Hollywood. The only reason I saw it was because I was trying to go to a pre-screening of a different shitty movie, but they filled up the theater and gave us consolation tickets. Should have seen The Fighter again or poured super glue into my ears.
“Nothing bad ever happens in a cave, right?”— Dumb lady that kills herself in hilarious manner
UNION WEEKLY
14 FEBRUARY 2011
CULTURE
Illustration
ELISA ANG’S ART THANGS
ELISA ANG CONTRIBUTOR
Art by Supakitch and Koralie
ELISA ANG CONTRIBUTOR
COUNTER-CULTURE: VALENTINE’S DAY DEBORAH ROWE
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UNION STAFFER
alentine’s Day isn’t all chocolates and cherubs, there’s also that whole, nasty romance business. For those of us who are actively avoiding intimacy but still want to have a little fun on V-Day, grab yourself an unsuspecting lad and follow these simple steps to a unique and unforgettable night. First, prep yourself for success. Wear too much perfume and leave your hair undone. While the wild temptress look may entice some, if you overwhelm his senses with your cheap bottle of Dollar Tree parfum, he’ll be sure to keep his distance. Dress yourself in something out of character for you, interpret that as you wish. Adorn yourself in the most obscure and ridiculous of fashions. I would personally recommend a candy necklace. It’s ideal for trips in the car and eating at the table. As often as possible, nibble anxiously and sneak bites off the string. If he questions you or looks perplexed, do not address it. It’s all about the mystery. First order of business: when he
picks you up, critique what he’s wearing and then continue to talk about how your ex-boyfriend was voted “Best Dressed” in high school and how he’s so awesome and shit. Oh, and please, please, belittle him as he drives. Restate over and over again how terrified you are of his driving and how you fear for your life. When he parks, size up the job he done with a list of colorful comments like “You’re like twelve feet from the fucking curb,” or “Wow. Fucking parking Olympics champion over here.” Emasculation is the name of the game. At dinner, the one thing you have to do is pay as little attention as possible to him. Stare out the window, stare at your food, stare at the Asian babies across the room, I don’t care where your eyes land, just never make eye contact with your date. But make sure your lips keep moving. Maintain conversation to keep the date going but be sure not to agree with him on anything. If he likes Taylor Swift, you like Kanye. He likes the color blue, you like red. He supports gay mar-
riage, you support infanticide. After the conversation starts to dwindle, spice it up with a little drama. Start crying about your dead cat or go into a long explanation as to why you’ve always hated pineapples. Or, better yet, have a medical emergency or mental breakdown. If you suffer from narcolepsy or some other random disorder, fantastic! Use what you’ve got. Feel free to add your own little tricks to make for a more personalized evening of awkwardness. Now for the end of the night. When he drops you off, thank him. Don’t be THAT rude. After all, he did pay for dinner—and if he didn’t, that’s a whole other story. When he goes in for a hug, kiss, whatever it is, stop it with the gem of all parting rituals: the hand hug. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this, here’s how it’s done: place your palm to his palm, wrap your thumb around and yell “HAND HUG!” Promptly scurry away. The bewilderment should fade and he will speed away as fast as his little Versa can take him.
LONG BEACH ART WALK CHELSEA STEVENS OPINIONS EDITOR
This week my art adventures took me to the small-but-spunky art showcase of Long Beach’s own “2nd Saturday Art Walk.” I couldn’t really figure that one out, but anyway, they really have quite an eclectic collection of artists at this art walk. While perusing the little street myself, I came across the stands of couple of personal and Cal State Long
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Beach celebrities! CSULB alum and Union Mommy, Karyss Gonzalez (art at www.karyss.com, see flower painting to left) featured her work at the art walk, displaying her collection of Long Beach and nature-themed paintwork. Further down the street, in a very unexpected turn of events, I came across the tent of none other than CSULB’s very own hippie guy from the Friendship Walk! Dave Wrathall (he does have an actual name, you insensitive assholes) represented Cal State with his politically inspired collection, including a collaborative piece featuring the north-lawn man himself (art at www.davewrathall.org, see right). He even gave me one of his famous free hugs, and I didn’t even ask for it. So if you ever find yourself
in need of an aesthetic fix around the second weekend of any month, mosey on downtown to the LB Art Walk. You could find yourself with a new piece for your dining room, or a hug from a stranger. Whichever you prefer.
In keeping with my personal vendetta to force you assholes to appreciate art, artists and all things artsy, I, Elisa Ang, bring you this Union ART COLUMN! As a second year illustration student here at Long Beach, I’ve noticed how oblivious most people are to all the amazing cool shit that’s being done in the art world right now. Since retiring from Facebook, most of my spare time is spent reading art magazines rather than status updates and I always come across super talented artists with remarkable work I think the world at large needs to see. I’m like Daniel Tosh, but way less funny. First up, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, the holiday of all things couples, I bring you French street artists Supakitch and Koralie, a husband and wife duo of artistic genius. Together the two are making waves in the underground street art community, cranking out some seriously cool shit. Their union made street art headlines when Supakitch popped the question in the raddest way possible: on-site painting a mural together in New York City. “I made her think that this will never happen, to make it an even bigger surprise,” Supakitch said. “Once the two characters dressed for a wedding were pasted on the wall, I gave her the earphones for my iPod and I played her favorite song, ‘Stand By Me’ by Ben E. King. I pasted a bubble with a ring and a question mark in it. I gave her a little box with the ring inside, which she opened in a second. Then, I gave her a bubble that said ‘Oui.’ to paste on the wall. She did it while she was laughing and crying at the same time. I couldn’t really see any other way to ask her; we met like that, in front of a wall that we were about to paint together.” How fucking adorable! They pair up designing some of the most intricate murals I’ve seen, combining cultural Japanese ornamental symbols and imagery with that urban street cartoon style that is blowing up the art scene right now, creating artwork that’s not only technically amazing, but also sick as fuck to look at. A mark of a talented artist is the ability to study and appreciate the old and relate it to present trends and styles to create art that transcends both. There’s something really special about the murals done by Supakitch and Koralie, in that the imagery used shows an awareness of art and cultural history while the style is contemporary and urban, giving it a timeless yet modern illustrative quality. It’s always super inspiring to see a couple with a shared passion and just imagine how good their babies’ fridge drawings will be. You can watch a video documenting the process of creation for one of their murals online by searching “Supakitch and Koralie - Metroplastique.” They work together seamlessly and its really inspiring to watch, especially for all you art majors out there. If you hear of any good artists in your own explorations that you think will make a good feature, email me at defjuxbaby@gmail.com, or if you’re a CSULB art student and would like your work in the paper, again, please email me!
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ANSWERS
EASY
HARD
EASY
YOU’RE STUCK HERE! BABY NINA
UNION STAFFER
VICTOR! PERFECTO
CONTRIBUTOR
BLAINE JARNAGIN
DISSECT MY BRAIN
CONTRIBUTOR
KEVIN NG
COMICS
Disclaimer:
This page is satire. We are not ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Email any questions, concerns, death jokes, to jeffbridges.grun@gmail.com, then go to hell.
Volume 68 Issue 4
Monday, February 14th, 2011
Teen Misquotes Song In Suicide Note
Money Saving Tip: Instead Of Coffins, Bury Loved Ones In Old Wigs
BY RAT-TAIL TIMOTHY ST. LOUIS - MISSOURI. Hector Cliveburn was just a kid who loved music, and hated life. Unfortunately Cliveburn apparently didn’t love music enough to get his suicide note right before he left it hastily scrawled on paper and magnetted on the family refrigerator. “It’s really a shame he didn’t fact check his note before he shuffled off this mortal coil,” says Detective James Anderson. “We have a policy of putting these notes in the obituary section so that readers can really know what kind of person people like Hector were. Now he’ll be remembered for his poor choice in music, and his inability to comprehend even the simplest of lyrics.” Hector Cliveburn’s note reads like your average suicide letter: lots of angry messages towards hated rivals, accusations of being misunderstood by adults, and lyrics that generally had a significant impact upon Hector’s life. Instead of the proper lyrics, which can easily be found
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by looking the song up on the internet, Hector wrote, “Build me up, build me up, buttercup just to kill myself,” most likely in response to his recent rejection by class sweetheart Jessica Tomlinson. “I really don’t understand how he could misinterpret that song, let alone mishear such a simple lyric,” Martha Cliveburn, Hector’s mother, explained. “I almost wanted to take it down off the refrigerator lest his father see it, but I felt it would be disrespectful of the dead. He was so proud of that letter.” Hector Cliveburn’s eulogy was marred with recommendations of better lyrics Hector could have used instead, many attendees pointing out that Linkin Park, Korn, Marilyn Manson, Chumbawumba, or Smash Mouth would have been much more appropriate given the nature of the letter. “Ultimately Hector would have wanted us to remember him as he was, a twelveyear-old listener of mediocre music, collector of pokemon, and rider of his razor scooter,” Pastor David Ingleman said.
BY JEFF BRIDGES, ACTOR Hey, Jeff Bridges here with a very important money-saving tip in these tough times. Everyone knows how expensive funerals can be. You have to pay for shovels, you have to find someone to buy all the misplaced dirt, and of course, you have to buy the extremely expensive coffin. There are metal ones, wood ones, and they have all these expensive additions like pillows, doilies, and ghost alarms. I’m here with a tip that you can take to the mortuary and then straight to the bank: bury your loved ones wrapped in the old wigs you have lying around the house instead of splooging on an expensive coffin. Your loved one will be wrapped lovingly in the soft caress of fake hair rather than the cold dead wood. It will be a much warmer, comfier eternity for their cold lifeless bodies, believe me. Plus, since everyone has a bunch of wigs just going to waste, why not take those wigs and use them for a good cause: a dead person’s corpse’s eternal resting place. This is called recycling and not only is it good for you in this fucker of an economy, but also it is good for the environment. We won’t have all these wigs that are all over the place tangling up our birds or clogging up
A quick mock-up of what a wig funeral may look like. Not pictured there is a smiling ghost looking down on this funeral like “yeah, this is where my body belongs, this is what I want for my eternat rest.”
our landfills. It’s time to put these wigs to use. Bury them with a body. Just do it. Economists agree that burying your loved ones in wigs is an “idea” that will definitely boost the economy and get everyone jobs. Think about it, there will be no need for expensive pallbearers to carry the big heavy coffin. One or two men could easily pick up the body covered in old soiled wigs and toss it into its final resting place with ease. Also, the gravedigger won’t have to dig a grave as wide, saving precious time to dig other wig graves all around the cem-
etery. Since they’re wigs and not a big oversized box, just dig a skinnier grave. Only three feet deep? Whatever! Onto the next grave. Who cares if a couple stray wigs are poking out from the ground, people can come and pet the luxurious gravehair out of respect for the dead. I will accept large dollars for my idea, and thank you letters can be mailed to jeffbridges.grun@gmail.com. Treat yourself to something nice with all the cash you saved. Money is for the living. Let’s take the economy from the cold dead fingers of all the assholes that died. Thanks.
INSIDE
Area Adolescent Wets Trunks Before Reaching Public Pool Last Thursday afternoon, local boy Garrett Mankowitz peed his pants while walking to the public pool by his home. Apparently he thought that he could get away with peeing before he was in the water, instead of like most kids who just pee when they’re inside the pool. “Sally from my remedial math class pointed out my wet groin area and I realized what I did wrong,” said Mankowitz. He added, “Now I’ll never get girl kisses.” Mankowitz’s swim class was immediately cancelled. His instructor and mother were heard both calling Mankowitz a “piss pants shithead” in eerie unison. page P2
Blender Not Getting a Chance to Use English Degree “It really says something about post-graduate life in the United States, don’t get me started on Obama,” said Blendrik Blunk when referring to his inability to find any work pertaining to his degree in English Literature. “I thought things would be different because I was the first in my family to go to a four-year, you know? My father didn’t approve of me going to college, but what does he know? He’s just a blender. He hasn’t talked to me in six-years, the homophobic prick.” page EB
NASA Computer Experiences Space Jam page
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