I think we’re focusing too much on farts.
Issue 73.02
Connor O’Brien Managing Editor
Rose Feduk, Editor-in-Chief editorinchief@lbunion.com Marco Beltran, Managing Editor marco.union@gmail.com Connor O’Brien, Managing Editor connor.union@gmail.com
Shereen Lisa Dudar, Opinions Editor opinions@lbunion.com Sierra Patheal, Campus Editor campus@lbunion.com Michael Wood, Music Editor music@lbunion.com Roque Renteria, Entertainment Editor entertainment@lbunion.com Katie Healy, Literature Editor literature@lbunion.com Alia Sabino, Culture Editor culture@lbunion.com Molly Shannon, Food Editor food@lbunion.com God Warrior, Grunion Editor grunion@lbunion.com Gabe Ferreira, Art Director gabe.union@lbunion.com Brian Mark, Art Director brian.union@lbunion.com Truc Nguyen, Web Manager web@lbunion.com Eddie Viramontes, Graphic Designer info@lbunion.com Assitant Editors: Alfred Pallarca, Alyssa Keyne. Contributors: Joseph Phillips, Jon Bolin, Amy Patton, Lily Gossage, Colin Sayer, Wes Verner, Joseph Estrada, Allie Kaylor, Joseph Philips, Emily Wang, Chrissy Bastian, Allan Tolkoff, Brian Cacha, Lou Skant, Janelle Sarti, Cassandra Gearhart. 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 Union weekly, not ASI or 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. Please include name and major for all submissions. They are subject toediting 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 Questions? Comments? Cooters? Beach, CA 90815. E-mail: info@lbunion.com
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Rose and the Heartburn From Hell Rose Feduk Editor-in-Chief Last week was pretty rough for everyone, and I am no exception. In addition to coordinating the making, printing and distribution of a newspaper without having my head explode, I accidentally went to the wrong classes, my car was egged, and my mom ended up calling me from the hospital saying that she had dislocated her collarbone. As our research for this week’s feature was coming to a close, I spotted a copy of the Union Weekly in a 7-11 parking lot. There on the asphalt, next to a crushed Cheeto bag, was an issue flipped to the Intro page section with a tire mark cemented across the pages. Of course, I can’t expect everyone to
carefully fold and place each issue of the newspaper in a plastic casing with sanitized tongs, especially when I keep my issues of the paper in the trunk of my car underneath some dirty socks. But just seeing an issue tossed to the wayside after a week of not being able to sleep over it is more than a little disconcerting. Sure, not everyone on campus cares about the newspaper, and some people don’t even know what it is. Even though everyone may not take the Union as seriously as we do, it’s important for us to realize that we need to be doing it partially for ourselves. What’s the point if the paper isn’t something that makes us think fondly of those Saturdays in the office and makes
us proud of what we’ve put into it? In the best-case scenario, everyone would love our paper, recognize the amount of effort we’ve put into it and tattoo our logo onto their foreheads as if it would be silly not to. For now, all that matters is that we put out our best work and have fun doing it. This week we got to dump a bucket of ¡Que Beuno! brand nacho cheese on Marco’s head and fling jalapenos at him. What’s more fun than that? Hell if I know. In this issue we explore the bowels (see what I did?) of gas station foods. Stay tuned through all our groans and moans and feel good knowing that we’ve suffered for your entertainment.
4
OPINIONS
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
Are You Syria-ous? We’ve made this mistake before Michael Wood Music Editor It rings truer today than ever: America’s era of global dominance is over. After 30 years of missteps, bumbling interventions and cold war realpolitik, we have landed ourselves the reputation as the guntoting, imperialistic, world superpower that couldn’t care less about the rest of the world. From the rice paddies of Vietnam to the mountains of Afghanistan, from the deserts of Iraq to the killing fields of Bosnia, we have decided to insert ourselves into a myriad of conflicts throughout the world with less than ideal results. Syria is just the latest chapter in this sad history. For those of you not up to speed on the conflict, I’ll put it in the simplest possible terms. After the Arab Spring revolutions of 2011 where Tunisia and Egypt toppled dictatorships peacefully through massive street demonstrations, civil wars erupted in other nations swept away by the revolutionary wave. Syria was one of those nations, where the brutal dictator Bashar Al Assad suppressed large street demonstrations in favor of democracy. Eventually, the democracy advocates, sick of being killed in the streets, began to arm themselves and form militias to fight the government. Thus, civil war was born in the small Middle Eastern country. For the past several years, the humanitarian crisis in Syria has grown more and more desperate. With hundreds of thousands of refugees, nearly 100,000 casualties in this war, and chemical weapons
being used in the militarily, like in the days of All Quiet on the Western Front, there is no solution in sight. The Syrian Army is not strong enough to eliminate the rebels. It’s a classic stalemate. Why must we involve ourselves in this hideous bloodbath? So far, the United States government has taken the side of the rebels who have yet to form an organized coalition or party that could conceivably negotiate on the behalf of the diverse mix of democracy advocates, radical Islamists, and everyone in between. With known sections of Al Qaeda participating with the rebels (yes, that Al Qaeda), how on earth can we throw our support to the rebels? We don’t have to pick, we don’t have to choose, the entire world is not dying to know who we care for in this conflict, particularly if the choices are between dictators and extremists. The Obama administration seems likely to pursue a tactic of punishing missile strikes against military targets to get the message across to Assad that chemical weapons should never be used in conflict. While this seems reasonable, one has to ask, how is more bloodshed supposed to prevent further bloodshed? Why would killing thousands of Syrians punish the Syrian government for killing thousands of Syrians? At its most basic level, it makes no sense other than as a cynical power play by the Obama administration to placate critics. And let’s be real, the lives of thousands of people across the world should not depend
on the whims of the opposition party in the US congress. Clemenceau once said, “It is easier to make war than to make peace.” This rings true almost 100 years later when the idea of a political or diplomatic solution to the Syrian conflict is not even discussed seriously in the media or in the corridors of power. I do not believe that we should not care about the problems of people the world over. At the core, we are all humans and helping each other, no matter how distant we are, is crucial to our survival. However, if we truly wanted to help people rather than play power games, we would attempt to negotiate peace between the parties or bring about some sort of peaceful transition in the ravaged nation. Whether we succeed or fail in that regard, we can at least sleep well knowing that we did not add to the bloodshed of the region. Brutal sectarian conflicts have been solved diplomatically before; for instance, a centuries long feud between the British empire and Ireland which led to terrorism, protest and all out war at points as late as the 1970s was resolved diplomatically, without either side demanding the surrender of the other. The situation in Syria is nothing like the Troubles in Ireland but the point is that diplomacy is routinely underestimated and even after years of brutal bloodshed, bitter enemies are able to reconcile peacefully with the proper diplomatic tactics. By excluding options that do not involve
brutality and added warfare, we have backed ourselves into a corner insofar as aiding the Syrian people. The illusion is that there is no choice but to fight, yet we must remember that fighting is the last resort of any civilized nation. Choosing to fight when peaceful alternatives exist is quite simply cowardice, and the politicians who push for such solutions to nuanced conflicts a world over are the most cowardly of all. In the past week, the Obama administration has begun to participate in another major conflict in the Middle East and the consequences of any action we take in this region is still nowhere near predictable or clear to us or our policy makers. The American people do not support this war, the UN does not support this war— hell, even the British do not support this war, even after following us into Iraq 10 years ago. It is beginning to look like this government stands alone in its foreign policy decisions. Repeating every major foreign policy error of the past 30 years is not a sustainable strategy towards a better and more humanitarian world. Without a mandate from the international community, the citizens of their nation, or anyone relevant in this situation, one must wonder how the American government can stand in defiance of its people and the world at large and for what reason it chooses to pursue such bloodshed all over the world.
Where The Sidewalk Ends Long Beach doesn’t care about pedestrians Sierra Patheal Campus Editor It’s late August, hot enough that beads of water pool on your skin the moment you leave an air-conditioned area. Spring Street stretches east in its arcing, eight-lane glory, divided by a small strip of concrete and lined with houses on one side, Bouton Creek on the other. There, on the eastbound side of the street, a girl walks in the bike lane, one of her suitcases bumping rhythmically against the low curb. That girl is me. The day is August 25th, move-in day at the residential halls, and I’m walking from the airport to Bellflower to catch one of the 90s to campus. (Yes, I could have taken a different bus or even a taxi, but I don’t like waiting, and taxis are expensive.) There I was, walking along on the right-hand side of Spring, and all of a sudden, as I crossed Clark
Avenue, the sidewalk disappeared. I’d already dodged utility boxes in the middle of the sidewalk, dealt with the fact that one of my suitcases fell over every time I tried to cross a street, and given up entirely on wearing my jacket during the walk, but I didn’t expect the sidewalk to vanish. It existed on the other side of the street, but I needed to be on the righthand side once I got to Bellflower, and I was only a (city) block away. So I decided to chance it. I was fine; nobody ran me over, and the drivers were much more understanding than Southern Californian stereotypes would lead me to expect. No one even honked at me. But, really? Why is it that whenever I want to walk anywhere in Long Beach, the city eats its own sidewalks
and deposits me on freeway on-ramps or tiny strips of concrete alongside 40mph tunnels? (If you think I’m kidding, try to walk from Spring to Stearns on Lakewood Boulevard). Having been a car-less resident of Long Beach for the last three years, I’m slowly becoming convinced that, outside of specifically designed pedestrian-friendly zones, Long Beach is intentionally unwelcoming to its unmotorized visitors. In a city that prides itself on its environmental initiatives and green planning—neither of which are particularly shabby—that’s worrisome. Even a visit to the Long Beach City Planning website doesn’t immediately alleviate those concerns. The area around the airport is part of Long Beach’s PD9, a planned development
district intended to support airport visitors and operators. That’s all well and good, and the strict requirements for PD9’s zoning—which cover everything from shrubbery to building height— are possibly responsible for the wellmaintained, usable sidewalks lining the first part of Spring Street, but the moment you leave PD9 and cross Clark into a residential district, the sidewalk disappears. Does that make sense to anyone? While there are improvement initiatives listed for many other areas in Long Beach on the City Planning website, sidewalk improvement along major auto thoroughfares doesn’t seem to be on the immediate agenda (or at least if it is, I didn’t find it).
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
OPINIONS
5
Chicken Soup for the Greedy Professor’s Soul Alfred Christian Pallarca Assistant Editor The first week of school marks a very significant and intimate moment between students and their prospective professors. These first few days give a general depiction of what the coming months will be like. This is the time when you will find out whether your professor will fuck you in the ass (and never call you back after the semester ends) or not. You all know what I’m talking about; to some professors it seems to me that we are merely dollar bills walking into their class. As they eagerly read the syllabus, I’m sure a few are itching to get to the course material section and impose upon all 50 of his or her students the requirement to shell out $100 for a book. Worst thing is, this class that you are taking is a GE class that probably doesn’t relate to your major at all. A $100 investment on a book that probably won’t affect your career or your life in a notable way. By the time you sell this book back to the school, the $100 piece of shit is
now only worth five dollars because a new fucking edition is out! Or you can just rent the book and lose your money forever. Some of these professors pressure you by assuring you that the only way to ace the class or even get a B is to buy their required book. For some reason, the book you need is only available at the school bookstore. To make the book buying process even more stressful, the professor had to stray away from the standard and choose a book either written or compiled by himself or the department. I imagine these professors spend the majority of their summers making miniscule changes to their books to convince us that it’s worth something. By the time fall semester starts, the bookstore doesn’t even have the book in stock because the it’s published through some small ass company that doesn’t realize that the professor will use it on the second day. However, as the semester progresses,
Do What You Love Joseph Estrada Contributor Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the freedom season— this is a call to action, so listen up, kids. The world is a hungry place where a nice fat cash salad seems to be the only leafy green that satisfies, and it’s been a really shitty few years for that particular crop. At this point in our lives we are basically at the bottom of the societal food chain— sure, we all worked damn hard to get where we are, but realistically, we don’t have much to offer the world in the way of fresh, interesting, or even viable skills, and things seem to have only gotten worse as the economy continues to decline. We major in Business Administration or Finance not because we love love love all those boring graphs and spreadsheets, but because those are “safe” career paths or because some backassed Yahoo! article has convinced us that our true passions are among the TOP USELESS MAJORS IN TODAY’S BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH. What’s worse is that our generation is considered both lazy and self-entitled. However, we’re supposedly destined to clean up the mess of the last few decades or so, depending on whom and when you ask. SO! You owe it your peers, future grandchildren and society to proudly raise both middle fingers to the heavens and
declare that you will not pursue the safe and boring, and instead chase your own weird and fascinating passions from here on out, you hopelessly limitless devil, you! So anyway, as I was originally saying, freedom season. So fucking what if there are no jobs out there supposedly, or your wallet is feeling a bit light lately, or your major is impacted and useless— do whatever makes you happy, dammit! (Unless your major is film, in which case save yourself some money because those classes are bullshit.) The world is changing, and it sure as hell won’t need 3 million boring business administrators. Go out and cover yourself in awesome tattoos if that’s what you want; I promise your future boss won’t care because he’ll be too busy raking in all the money you make him by radically improving his business. Go ahead and spend your student loan money on those awesome leather boots you’ve had your eye on for a while if it’ll make you more confident and stoked about yourself. You can pay it back later with your awesome CEO salary. But you sure as hell don’t have the time to worry about stupid shit and play it safe; for Christ’s sake, the world needs you to be the dynamic passionate rockstar you were born to be! Unless your major is film.
you realize that in reality this overpriced piece of shit book will not even be used at all. You probably just used the first three chapters for some bullshit three-page essay that’s worth five percent of your grade. (Of course, it was in the syllabus, but who actually reads those?) In fact, you could probably use Wikipedia to find the same information. You could have probably shared the book with someone or 10 other people in the class to minimize the cost. But NO! Your professor clearly stated during the first day that everyone should have their own book because of the rigorous reading load. (Seriously, does anyone do those either?) Also, apparently the book is accompanied with an activity book that everyone needs to have. In reality, you fucking use three pages of the activity book, and you could have simply photocopied it. It is a sad truth that, instead of being our allies in acquiring a cheaper education,
some professors act like sharks preying on our FAFSA checks, our parents’ credit cards, or our hard earned money from working all summer. Of course, this rant does not apply to everyone. It probably applies to only a few greedy professors. I do understand that several classes, particularly science classes, do in fact justifiably require these expensive books, because that’s just the reality of it. I have come to the realization that several professors actually suggest you buy a previous edition because they are essentially the same. I have also come to admire a specific professor who handpicked all four books we had to read that semester and made sure each book did not cost more than 15 dollars. Anyway, before this article goes on a more offensive route, I should stop. Last thing though, hats off to those professors who actually help their students, and a finger to the rest!
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CAMPUS
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
CSULB: The Final Frontier Shaina Phillips dishes on CSULB’s brand-new Science Fiction Club. Sierra Patheal Campus Editor CSULB has over 300 clubs, but the creation of this particular one seems a little overdue. We have the massive Masback Science Fiction Collection on the third floor of the library; we have a science fiction course in the English department; we have full runs of sci-fi magazines in the library’s collections; and we even have an electronic research guide for science fiction, fantasy, horror, and utopian media, but CSULB has never had a student-run organization for science fiction and fantasy aficionados. Not, at least, until this year. “I think we’re going to end up covering a very large umbrella of what might be scifi,” said club founder and senior English major Shaina Phillips during an interview on Friday evening last week. During a conversation with Student Life and Development during her first year after transferring to CSULB, Shaina learned that there were no science fiction or fantasy clubs on campus, despite the plethora of students wearing Doctor Who t-shirts
and referring to Star Trek in their essays. “Our main focus is science fiction,” she continued, “but we will probably include some fantasy, too. There’s definitely a massive crossover between the genres, so…fantasy fans can definitely come too.” Like most new clubs, the Sci-Fi Club plans to hammer out the basics during its first-ever meeting on Tuesday: officers, plans for the semester, and a regular meeting time. Shaina has big plans for it over the semester, though. “I’m hoping to do more than one meeting a week,” she explained. “I want to do a main, general meeting, where we talk about things and discuss sci-fi stuff, and then I want to do a second meeting where we all come and watch TV shows and movies together. I’d like to reserve one of the theater rooms in the science buildings and be like, ‘Let’s watch Serenity!’ or something.” It’s not all fun and hedonism, either. “One of the things I really want to do is an event called ‘Can’t Stop the Serenity.’ In
case you don’t know, Serenity is the movie that came out after the TV series Firefly, which was directed by Joss Whedon. His favorite charity is called ‘Equality Now,’ which is focused on bringing equality to countries without as much gender equality as we have… ‘Can’t Stop the Serenity’ is an event where you screen Serenity, and all the proceeds go to ‘Equality Now’ to help women and children across the globe.” Apparently the event, which is put on entirely by enterprising individuals and small organizations like the soon-to-be Sci-Fi Club, has been successful; it’s raised over $800,000 since 2006, with just over $40,000 from this year alone. Along with game nights, group readings, and cinema showings, Shaina also hopes CSULB’s fledgeling Sci-Fi Club will be interested in (global) community service opportunities like this. “It’s ultimately up to the people who come to decide, though,” she explained. “I’m a senior, which means most likely—
God willing, knock on wood, I won’t be here next fall, but I want to get everything set up […] so that when I do leave next fall, people kind of have a basic idea of ‘This is what we do,’ and then they can improve upon it.” Shaina shrugged, looking just a little abashed, and smiles. “I like the idea that if we set it up, it’ll continue in the future.”
official statements of purpose. Historically, Smorgasport is one of the most popular events on campus, so arrive early and be ready to par-tay! The first 500 attendees receive a free shirt, and everyone’s entitled to free bowling, billiards, and games.
It’s a little pricey, with tickets starting at $13 for a day and rising depending on how much lobster you plan to eat, but if you’re a fan of shellfish, it might be a worthwhile expenditure—and besides, it only happens once a year. This year, the Long Beach Lobster Festival will be held from September 6th-8th, running from 5pm-11pm on Friday, 12pm-11pm on Saturday, and 12pm-10pm on Sunday at the Rainbow Lagoon downtown.
All the awesome events you’ll totally intend to attend, right up until they’re over.
Welcome to College—Now Get Involved! Join the Union Weekly at CSULB’s semesterly Week of Welcome on Wednesday, September 4th and Thursday, September 5th. The event, which is stylized “Week of Welcome Trails”—Wild West, anyone?—will take over the central quad on upper campus from 11am ’til 2pm with hundreds of student organizations hawking their wares. Looking for some community service opportunities around campus? Got ’em. Want a way to volunteer with the local Red Cross chapter? C’mon over. Crazy about snowboarding? Yep, there’s a club for that, too. Just love to write? Keep an eye out for the Union’s desk! Whatever your interests, CSULB probably has a club to suit them—and if it doesn’t, you can always consider starting one, like Shaina Phillips, above! But before you resort to that, come to Week of Welcome this week to check out the current offerings. Chances are there’ll be something you’ll like.
Sierra Patheal Campus Editor
Fun & Games—for Free, Free, Free! CSULB’s celebratory back-to-school tradition of Smorgasport continues with a free night of games, food, and music on Friday, September 6th from 8pm to 12am. Student organizations, food trucks, sports teams, radio stations, and more will rally to show 49ers new and old a great time and inaugurate the school year with laughter and games. The official reason for the event is to show students how to have a night out on the town without involving alcohol, but the events and offerings eclipse any
An Intentionally Horrific Exhibition Renowned special effects artist Gabe Bartalos will be presenting his horrific creations at the University Art Museum this semester, to the excitement of a good number of CSULB film aficionados. Bartalos, a master of costume prosthetics specializing in explicit blood and gore, is the costuming mastermind behind such wonderfully titled hits as March of the Anal Sadistic Warrior, Brain Damage, and Frankenhooker. He will open the exhibition with a free reception at the UAM from 6-8pm on Saturday, September 7th, after which, he will join artist Matthew Barney—with whom he has worked since 1991—for a conversation in the Carpenter Performing Arts Center. The CPAC event has a $15 general admission fee, but the opening reception and the exhibit are both free with your student ID. The exhibition will be around until December 8th, so be sure to check it out! It’s Lobster Time Long Beach has the largest lobster festival outside of Maine. Who would’ve thought? With music, dancing, and of course, freshly prepared live Maine lobsters (that are emphatically not live once they’re on your plate), the festival is sure to be a kick.
Interested in Joining? The first meeting of CSULB’s Science Fiction Club will be held on Tuesday, September 3rd at 4pm in USU 305. It’s open to all CSULB students, faculty, and staff, so come celebrate your geekdom! Also, the meeting times might change once the officers are elected, so if you can’t make it on Tuesday, no need to stress; just send me an email at campus@lbunion.com, and I’ll let you know what’s going on.
Lots of Fun at A [Central] Lot The art scene is taking over Long Beach— the abandoned parts, at least. On Saturday, September 7th, art celebrations will arise in abandoned lots in two parts of town: the corner of Anaheim & Walnut and the section of Pine Avenue between 6th and 7th Streets. With live music, food, theatre, dancing, and plain ol’ art, these impromptu artists’ celebrations are hosted by the LB Arts Council and go to show that art really can arise everywhere and nothing is too far gone. C’mon over, it’s free! The one on Anaheim will last from 3pm-9pm, and the one on Pine will be from 5pm-8pm. No Horsing Around It’s a psychological drama about mutilating horses. Really. Peter Schaffer’s Equus is coming to the Long Beach Playhouse on September 7th, and it’s here to stay…until October 5th, at least. The LB Playhouse is always awesome, and this showing shouldn’t be any different. Tickets are $14 with your student ID, and the playhouse is located across from the Beachside dorms.
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
FEATURE
“I think I’m gonna spit it out”
Intro by Marco Beltran Managing Editor Words by Union Staff
Poorly scheduled mornings seem to be a shared trait among all college students. Printing out handouts, checking your syllabus, making sure you have the right books, looking for your phone, standing in front of the mirror trying to make your hair do that thing you like. Nowhere in that mess of a routine do we make time for the two most important things: getting gas and getting food. And if you do make time for both of them, it’s usually whatever is most convenient. Convenient is worst word when it comes to food. In this week’s feature, Rose Feduk, Connor O’Brien, and I sampled several different foods from a variety of gas station convenience stores in Long Beach, keeping close to the foods we would purchase if we were doing a last-minute food run. We their own convenience stores that carried all the typical grub one would
brands we didn’t know or foods listed as “fresh” and each of us took a big enough bite so that we could bask made the terrible decision to bring every food in succession, which led to irritated bowels and close encounters with the fabled “shart.” To no one’s surprise, a lot of it was gross and some of it was even inedible. The best of the best was on par with McDonald’s, while the worst thing we ate was so heinous it could be compared to a hate crime. But throughout the challenge, one rule anything, always swallow. While most people wouldn’t think of touching gas station foods, somewhere out there is a group of people, hopefully in the minority, that continues to fund these atrocities by buying triangle-shaped sandwiches, hot-roller hot dogs, and heat-lamp-
Photos by Connor O’Brien Managing Editor
crusted quesadillas. And I’m one of them. I’ve taken part in this ritual of liquefying stool. I’m just so weak when it comes to saying no to chilitopped nachos but after this feature, I think I’m hanging up my chili hat and trading it in for an apple. We have to stop allowing them, the corporations and government ne’er do wells, to ruin food for everyone. You can make a difference. Buy some fruit. Support the Farmer’s Market. Live past 40.
We got sick so you don’t have to
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FEATURE
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
When we approached Scotty’s, there was a man sitting on the curb that we thought was a drunk guy waiting for death to take him. As it turns out, he was just the guy working the cash register— a good sign. Another good sign was that the microwave had a two-foot tall stack of newspapers piled on top of it and there was a wrench clamped onto the dial. We picked up an ICEE, a cup of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich that prompted the cashier to shoot Connor a dirty look. Before we left, the cashier said to us, “I wanna dance, but it’ll make you guys laugh.” Luckily, we avoided that train wreck.
“At one time, this hot dog was probably OK”
Food Mart: The faded can of dog food that we saw upon entering Food Mart should have been a stern warning about the lack of fresh food inside. Towards the front was a small refrigerated section with an abysmal selection of beige sandwiches and pre-packaged burritos. After debating for a longer than necessary amount of time about whether tuna or chicken salad would give us less gas, we decided that everything was going to come out looking the same anyway and that we should get a move on. We got a cup of lukewarm coffee, a chicken salad sandwich, and a green burrito.
Spicy “What is that?” Chicken Sandwich The fact that someone thought this sandwich was okay to release into the world is by far the worst abomination to the human body. It was completely inedible by all accounts. Upon opening the bag, we were assaulted by the intense stench of latex gloves. Connor implored us to “feel this sandwich,” and it had the weight, appearance, and texture of a dead woman’s hand. Possibly the worst part was this pudding skin-like “chipotle” mayo that was squirted onto the rubbery patty. We (and our insides) all agreed that it was the worst of the worst right away.
Green Burrito from Hell Having had quite a few microwaved burritos in our youth, we knew that we might be safe if we got one at a gas station. We were dead wrong. Once we heated up the burrito from Food Mart, we noticed that the tortilla was a little bit less like tortilla and more like gummy flesh. Unfortunately the worst part was when we found out that someone accidentally put dog food in the burrito—gravy sludge and all. As we chewed on bits of tendon, we thought about our life choices and how this experiment would probably take a couple years off of our lives. Chicken Salad Barfwich Let it be known that all triangle-shaped sandwiches are not the same. At higher end convenience stores, you can at least tell what kind of meats are in their sandwiches. Here, all of the sandwich fillings were gray mush, including the ham and cheese. You couldn’t tell where the bread ended and the filling began. The taste was not nearly as bad as the smell, which could only be described as “dog fart.” Two unenthusiastic bites later, it was deemed that this sandwich needed at least an honorable mention in the “worst foods” category.
Scotty’s ICEE There’s really no way that you can mess up an ICEE, and after the tasteless garbage that a rejected gas station tried to plop out with that “Blew Raspberry” nonsense, this was like a sweet drop of water in a barren desert of stomach frowns. This ICEE is what ended up saving us, as the intense blue raspberry flavor was the only thing that could suppress our urges to spit out all the other foods. Hopefully ICEE sees that we used their product as the official “palette cleanser” for this experiment and rewards us with a signed picture of a real polar bear. Thanks ICEE! Arcadia Bay Coffee The dirty coffee pot sitting in a dusty corner should have been an indication of the quality of Scotty’s coffee. This coffee could be summed up with Marco’s exclamation of “Ugh! That’s coffee…I think.” It was the worst coffee by far. It tasted like someone had soaked those coffee candies that your grandpa thought you liked in hot water and left it out overnight.
Arcadia Bay Coffee: Take 2 Food Mart’s coffee section gave the appearance of having a lot to offer. However, after emptying out the last droplets of three different coffee pots, our dream of having a decent cup of coffee was crushed. We made some kind of bastardized hybrid of a couple of different caffeinated and decaffeinated hazelnut and vanilla blends. And after getting a trickle of almond flavoring from some “state-of-the-art” flavor dispenser, the coffee was pretty much a wreck. To add insult to injury, the coffee wasn’t even hot. To be fair, it was the end of the day when coffee is at its worst, but we would have never thought it could be this bad.
“Imagine eating a whole one of these” Food Mart
“I think we’re gonna have to poop outside”
“It skipped my stomach and went straight to the gateway of my butthole.”
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
FEATURE
9
“Just OK”
7-Eleven Ampm had this strange food cupboard where they kept mini pizzas, corn, hot dogs, and chicken all together. This food box kept things way too hot. We were burned as we As we walked around, we saw one of the workers slide back behind the food box and shift stuff around. Hopefully she was putting fresh stuff in there, but that’s a long shot. The cashier asked us if we were from Germany. We assume he thought we were foreign because everybody else knows to stay away from rib sandwiches purchased from a gas station. Rib Sandwich We knew that this ribblet would be bad. Whenever you see processed meat in the shape of meat and bones, you know what you are getting into. We just didn’t know how bad it would be. The meat didn’t even resemble a rib. The meat was yellow. Between each “rib bone” was a rectangle of barbecue sauce. When we tried to separate the bun from the meat we had to peel the gummy bread slice and the bread stretched. It did sorta resemble the taste of a rib surprisingly. The fact that it was the best thing we ate from ampm gives you an idea of how bad the other food there was.
ampm Fancy Burger The Fancy Burger, more aptly described as the “flippy flopwich,” was a double cheeseburger with two stinky patties and a frumpy little bun. Our worst decision of the night was to put extra fixin’s on the burger. We had pieces of floppy brown lettuce, a sad soggy pickle, wrinkly onions, and some gross barbecue sauce on it. It looked ok at the time, but when we hesitantly took our bites, Connor foolishly took a giant bite that included the whole pickle and a shit ton of lettuce. The cheese looked like glue, smattered between the patties. It tasted like soggy paper mache with mopey sauce. The Space Foam Slurper The Space Foam Slurper did not have a long lifespan. From the start, Rose knew something was off about the drink. The slurp came out of the machine in little squirt spurts. The machine farted out the blue juice like it was near death. It was icey and blue in the beginning, but ten minutes later, the slurp separated into white space foam and blue juice. It tasted like something funky was going on. If a stranger told you to drink this, you would be right in thinking there’s probably a roofie in it. Bugs and dust can’t fall in a Slurpee machine, right?
7-Eleven was the last stop we made on the highway to colon Hell. We previously held some pretty low expectations for 7-Eleven, but compared to all the other stops, we were happy to bite into something that actually resembled the smell of food. The best thing about 7-Eleven is that they don’t let you grab your own food with your nubby grubby
Extra Mile: This is what we expected all the gas station eateries to look like. That sterile look and every possible microwaveable edible. It even has a deli, but it was closed when we went. Everything looked like clean, yet off. Poop Poop Nachos The nachos were the best thing to get there, but it’s hard to mess up. Every place probably uses the same brand of bagged cheese sauce and chili. The downside were the chips because they were stale, but tasted alright. It was like chewing through a corn flavored piece of cardboard. Cardboard doesn’t sound appetizing. In comparison to the rest of the stuff we got in cardboard ends up tasting kind of good. We doused them in cheese, chili, onions, jalapenos, so it softened them up a bit when it finally came time to eat them. The dispenser was the best part, sputtering chili out of the machine like the tailpipe of an old car and splattering over the chips. Brat Shit Dog It should be noted, before anything, that the first bite of the hot dog was crunchy. Hot dogs aren’t supposed to crunchy. That’s the number one requirement of hot dogs. It was probably the worst hot dog any of us have ever tasted. Dry, crusty, oily. It was like eating a hot dog’s grandfather. Or shit. That’s probably the closest we’ll get to eating shit. The bun was dense, like a biscuit. It should also be noted that Connor took the biggest bit of the dog so he received the brunt of the dog’s awfulness. We took zoomed in photos of the dog and it looked like someone’s butt. Bready Quesadilla We joyfully took bites of the quesadilla in the parking lot of the Extra Mile only to have our dreams of diarrhea-less nights bashed. There’s an alternate dimension where the cheese was gooey and the flour tortilla that encased it might have looked like a tortilla. Unfortunately for humanity, the cheese had dried and turned into a bread, an ability that no one thought was possible for cheese, and the tortilla resembled a wheat tortilla, brown and gritty. We couldn’t figure out when this abomination was created, it’s possible that it’s an amalgamation of scraps from every terrible thing in history. Maybe.
Extra Mile
gloves on, and hand you your very own cylinder of meat. They have tons of choices, from cakes and doughnuts, to sandwiches and taquitos, you are going to have a tough time deciding what’s best, but don’t worry, any choice undoubtedly leads to bodily ruin. The Roller The Roller was in a constant spin, rolling around in its own crusty poultry filth. It was the closest thing to chicken we ate. It had a lot of spices on it, probably to make you forget that what you’re chewing isn’t supposed to be in the shape of a hot dog. This might be the best way to go in terms of gas station chicken. It’s processed so much that you don’t have to worry about salmonella. We would compare it to a chicken finger you left in the freezer too long, doused in pepper and sent into the microwave.
“Here, all of the were gray mush”
Big Bite The Big Bite was the best hot dog we had all day. We don’t know how long it had been rolling out there with the other doggies, but it seemed to taste like what a hot dog should taste like, taking into consideration its maturity. If you’re a bun fan, this dog had a pretty bangin’ set of buns on it. Lots of bread, big ol’ bite of buns. There were a bunch of toppings for your doggie, but they were out of chili and cheese, so we settled on old relish, onions, and mustard. Other than getting the old wrinkly ones, hot dogs are a pretty safe bet. Sausage Biscuit The best thing we ate was the sausage biscuit. It was on a refrigerated shelf, tightly wrapped, dense, and cold. When we popped it out of the microwave, after a little bit of steam burn, we saw a single sausage patty between two biscuit buns. The key to the deliciousness was simplicity. No gross sauces, nothing you can’t recognize, just meat and sweet buttered bread. It was on par with McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches. We would eat this again anytime without hesitation. It was only one dollar but tasted way better than anything you could get out of a vending machine.
“I want to fart but it won’t be legal”
Worst
10
CULTURE
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
The CSULB Survival Guide What to know about being a student at The Beach Alia Sabino Culture Editor There’s no denying it—school’s back in session. The second week is in full swing, and it’s time to fully let go of the blissfulness that accompanied summer, (and the labor day weekend for that matter) and get yourselves back into the rhythm of academia, especially for those who have been continually harassed by the emails about timely graduation limits. There are so many aspects to being
a college student; there’s dealing with your professors, figuring out your major, knowing what club to join, and keeping some semblance of a social life to name a few. It’s honestly a whole new world of possibility and opportunity. At times it can get overwhelming, and at times you find yourself in uncomfortable situations, but hey, college is all about getting out of your comfort zone.
Joseph Phillips Union Staffer
Alfred Pallarca Assistant Editor
STAND OUT. An easy way to succeed at Long Beach State is to make yourself stand out to your peers and your professors. This could be by wearing a bright green 25-cent Hawaiian T-Shirt, or it could be as simple as making those around you smile. The more people like and remember you, the better results you will obtain in the long run. Whether it is making friends or making connections with the faculty in your major, these associations can open doors and make for a better experience all around. Networking is so vital to future success that it could make or break your chances of getting your dream job when you graduate. Be remembered.
STUDY ABROAD. You know those bullshit foreign language classes we all had to take in high school? Well, I have come to realize that they are not so full of bullshit after all. I strongly recommend anyone who is aching for a change of scenery (which you will all crave half-way your college career) to take a second or third language class your freshman year and stick to it. When you have taken at least two years of it and can talk shit about people around you without them suspecting, then get the fuck out of CSULB and study abroad. Trust me, it is the best networking and liver-destroying experience out there!
In hopes of shedding some light on these matters, some students have taken it upon themselves to impart the wisdom they’ve acquired over the years of being a 49er. Listen up, freshmen! Please don’t be one of those that come into college with their noses up in the air thinking that they know everything, because honestly, they don’t. All you can do is come in with an open mind and absorb all that you can. For
those that have been here for a little longer, you can still learn a thing or two. Whether it’s about the horror of overpriced books, the wonders of studying abroad or surviving being vegan, these tips and tricks will help you make the best out of your experience here at the Beach. Enjoy.
Michael Wood Music Editor DON’T BE YOURSELF. They say college is about discovering yourself, right? Well, guess what? A lot of you will discover that you’re very unpleasant people. Some of you just don’t know when to shut up about video games, and you might even be misogynistic pricks. That’s really unfortunate, but get your head out of the oven because you can change! College isn’t about being yourself. It’s about discovering how to be a good person, and frankly, that’s better for yourself and everyone around you than being the same shitty person you might’ve been in high school. We’re here to learn right? Well learn to be a kind, genuine and sympathetic human being. Fuck being yourself. Learn to be a decent person instead.
Emily Wang Contributor
Katie Healy Literature Editor
Alyssa Keyne Assistant Editor
POOP IN PEACE. After my four years here at Long Beach State, I learned something very important: always find a safe place to poop. There were numerous times in my freshman year where I’ve felt the urge to poop and found that I couldn’t either because of the long lines or because I felt uncomfortable pooping in the presence of so many people. I know better now. There’s one bathroom on campus that I can call my own. With inevitable long gaps in our schedules, one must find a comfortable place where there’s never a line and is rarely frequented. I’d tell you mine, but I don’t want you to steal it, so go forth and find your own spot of solace!
FUCK VIRGINITY. This isn’t advice per se, but it is fair warning about what you will see and hear during your years in college. I was sitting in the dorms reading Beowulf and next door I hear my sports medicine hall mate talk about negative feedback and calcium in glial cells... or something fancy like that. You know, she’s studying and being serious about her education. In the room on the other side, I heard my hall mate shout at the top of her lungs “I’M DONE WITH MY VIRGINITY!” So, two words of warning: one, you will hear about logic and sex, and two, whenever you shout, you’re sharing your secrets with 100 of your closest friends. You have been warned!
JUST BREAK UP. Do NOT enter into an on-again-off-again relationship. They’re a waste of time, energy, and peace of mind, especially in college. You’ll go through all sorts of phases trying to negotiate a dysfunctional relationship, and, chances are, if the person hasn’t gone to war or suffered traumatic brain damage, he or she will treat you the exact same way, despite any tearful promises. Do yourself, your friends, family, and all of Facebook a favor and find a better mate. There are countless better people on campus. That also goes to the dumpers; don’t drag some poor, codependent, lovesick person through the same agonizing shit. Break up and move on.
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
CULTURE
11
Craig Chambersum Contributor
Cassandra Gearhart Contributor
Janelle Sarti Contributor
JOIN SOMETHING. If you’re a new student at CSULB, there is only one thing you need to do: get involved. If you go from your smelly apartment to class, and back to your shitty apartment, you’re gonna have a bad time. Instead, walk around and smell the shit out of the flowers. Get involved in your academic club first, and then the rest will fall into place. There is nothing like walking around campus and knowing 1 out of 5 students. It gives you a sense of belonging and purpose, and you actually won’t mind sitting through that boring math class, because once you get out of that class it’s like a party on campus everyday.
STAY VEGAN. Surviving campus life at CSULB as a vegan has its challenges, but it can be done. To all of the new vegan 49ers, bring your own lunch and snacks when possible. Also, make use of the many microwaves throughout campus. The vegan chili found in the Beach Hut and at the Outpost, is by far, the best bang for your buck; $3.25 for a large cup. Add some jalapenos for an extra kick. The Field of Greens salad from the Nugget or Outpost is my next favorite. Unfortunately, most of the dressings are not vegan, so you may want to go “naked,” or settle for Italian dressing. If all else fails, there are always Kind Bars from any of the convenience stores on campus.
SPEAK UP. One thing I wish I had known when I was starting out in college is to not be afraid to talk in class. What I mean, specifically, is go ahead ask questions, talk to your classmates, and talk to your professors. Even as a communications major, it was hard for me to speak up at first, but guess what? Once you do it, you realize it’s actually not that hard. I was so hesitant to ask the professor a question or to talk to the person sitting next to me because I didn’t want to say something “wrong.” I got over it though, and found out that others don’t really care, and you shouldn’t either. Just go ahead and speak your mind.
Sierra Patheal Campus Editor
Molly Shannon Food Editor
Allan Tolkoff Contributor
STUDY IN SILENCE. Figure out where you can disappear. Seriously, do it. If you think campus is packed now, just wait for
TRY NEW SHIT. Your college experience will be disgustingly boring if you don’t put on your big boy/girl pants and try new things. Freshman year, I forced myself to attend as many campus events as possible, join a couple clubs, and even live on campus. Some of the events I ended up attending were a Chinese culture festival, a modern-dance showcase, and a Hellogoodbye concert. I also became a member of the Union Weekly. Last year, I was even given a position at a certain oncampus coffee shop! Rather than staying curled up in your dorm watching Malcolm in the Middle re-runs, I implore you to take a leap and do something out of the ordinary—you will make new friends, and gain an incredible amount of insight.
TAKE A DIP. It’s hotter than Satan’s armpit this time of year. Your dorm is stifling and the fan does nothing but blow the heat around. Think you’ll go for a swim in the USU pool? Sorry, it’s not open, and the water has already begun to boil anyway. But don’t lock yourself in the fridge just yet. CSULB tries to provide for all students’ needs, and it won’t let you down. What did you think that big fountain outside Brotman Hall was for? Put on your swimsuit and go for a dip. Thanks to that ridiculous but popular notion that the fountain isn’t for swimming, you’ll even have it all to yourself. Well, apart from the occasional duck, that is.
your study weeks, start scheming now. At some point, you won’t be able to get from LA-5 to the library without somebody calling your name. Socializing is great, but college student second, pretty soon you’re where nobody knows who you are. A few of my favorites are the single-occupancy desks running alongside the bookshelves in the library, the shady lawn at the bottom of 4.0 hill, and if you’re taking a language the LAB building (which nobody seems to know exists).
Alia Sabino Culture Editor
Alyssa Keyne Assistant Editor
Brian Cacha Contributor
FEED SOME KOI FISH. I feel a pang of sadness whenever I find out that a student here has never been to the Japanese Garden. I actually know some students that have graduated from this school and have never taken it upon themselves to check out this oasis in the midst of our university. Honestly, these people don’t know what they’re missing out on. The aura that this garden exudes is so peaceful and serene that it has the power to put a stop to any imminent emotional/mental breakdown that you might have. If you are completely ignorant to its existence, you can find it right next to the Parkside dorms on the west side of campus, across parking lot 16.
WAIT TO BUY YOUR BOOKS. Please don’t waste your money. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but my friends and I have been in many situations where either our professors have made mistakes, or we’ve changed classes and we’re left with books that we don’t actually need. After the first day, look online to see if any websites have better prices on books, because they usually do. If you absolutely need to buy the book from the bookstore and cannot wait until the crowd has died down, I highly recommend going at 7:30 am (yes, it’s a pain in the ass, but there’s no line) or going during closing time. The hours during the first week of school are extended, so definitely take advantage of that.
KNOW THYSELF. There are two things that will greatly help you during your college years. The first one of these is metacognition. In laymen terms, it means being aware of your own thought process. So my advice is to evaluate how smart you are. Once you can pinpoint your own abilities, you can set up improved ways of learning for yourself. Which may mean skipping class to read the textbook instead of listening to the professor, whichever works best. The second advice I’ll give is quite simple: make a lot of friends. College is the point in your life where you really learn how to enjoy yourself. And since you followed my first advice, you shouldn’t have any trouble following my second one. Learn, love, and have fun.
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ENTERTAINMENT
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
Place Yer Bets! How Will Miley Cyrus Die? Roque Renteria Entertainment Editor It’s been about a week since Miley Cyrus’ performance at the MTV Music Awards, and I am tired of not being able to navigate the Internet without seeing her fucking face everywhere. Unlike most people, it’s not the twerking that annoyed me but the fact that she is still relevant. So, after I washed my eyes with bleach, I got to thinking, “How much longer is Miley Cyrus’ career going to last?” And I’m a firm believer that a celebrity’s career does not end until they die. Sometimes even longer if they are a boss (SEE: Jesus). How much more abuse can we take from this former Disney Channel princess? Luckily, the universe has a biological constraint on every individual, so one day Miley Cyrus and her evilness will perish from this world. This is true for everyone, so we shouldn’t get so worked up about it. But why not make a game out of it? I just got back from Vegas, so I’m in a gambling mood. That being said, I’ve compiled a list of possible deaths that Miley might experience, along with odds that are somewhat accurate representations of their probability. I understand that some of you may oppose the very idea of this article. Some of you may find this tasteless and inappropriate and classless, but were you expecting to get any of those qualities from someone who is writing about Miley Cyrus? Not all of us write for The New Yorker.
Illegal substance overdose Odds are 2:1 This is a pretty standard death for a celebrity. Especially a “musician.” This is a safe bet right here. Prescribed substance overdose Odds are 4:1 This death is becoming more and more popular with celebrities. Take Michael Jackson for example. It always sucks when we lose talented people who contribute to society. We should pay respect to the lives they lived. Fortunately, Miley Cyrus is not one of those people. She is just a corporate shill making money for Disney, an overly rich company that contributes nothing to human evolution. She is a fucking demon. She has been sent to lower the standards on earth. I repeat: she is a demon. Natural causes Odds are 10:1 Now you’re getting risky. I see that you are a risk-taker. I respect that. However, I wouldn’t place my bet on this one.
Illustration by Allie Kaylor Contributor She gets her tongue caught in a fan or something Odds are 69 (huh-huh, 69) :1 I included this because of the stupid face she makes. Sooner or later, that tongue is going to get caught somewhere. Preferably a sharp-bladed fan that cuts off her tongue and she starts bleeding profusely. The unstoppable bleeding results in death. Televised suicide Odds are 100:1 In this one, Miley realizes that she is an agent of evil and decides to repent for her atrocities. Therefore, by using the Disney Channel as her medium, she performs a samurai-style hara-kiri suicide. The running rivers of blood will cleanse the world of her evil. Twerking accident Odds are 666:1 I’m guessing that Miley will some day want the title of “Queen of Twerking.” Therefore, she will train harder than Jennifer Beals (such a beautiful woman) in Flashdance. Dancing like a maniac and dancing like you’ve never danced before will make you prone to injury. She will probably twerk so hard that she will dislocate one of her spinal columns resulting in internal bleeding.
Every living pop star hack joins Miley Cyrus and together they re-enact the Jonestown massacre by each drinking poisonous Kool-Aid. Thus, erasing the world of their presence. Justin Bieber would be the leader Odds are 10,000,000,000 : 1 In a perfect world. In a perfect world... There you have it, the multiple ways in which Miley might die. I must make this clear, I am not wishing death upon Miley Cyrus; I’m only embracing it. All jokes aside, I think it’s pretty ridiculous that we clamor and become hysterical over something as trivial as a dance performance. People, there are much more pressing matters. We only have one life to live. Why should we spend it with morbid idolization of clowns like these? And yes, I will admit that I am an asshole for continuing to mention her and even acknowledge her. Having said that, consider this a public service announcement. Let us extricate ourselves from the chains of shallow consumerism, and let us pursue more engaging intellectual curiosities. ᾽Nuff said. Just a reminder, next week Union Weekly will return to its normal coverage of Ben Affleck as Batman.
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
MUSIC
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I Can’t Believe It, Either When did popular music lose its subtlety?
Sierra Patheal Campus Editor Why are today’s pop music celebrities determined to out-crass each other? I thought Miley’s performance at the VMAs was bad. Then Pandora sabotaged my radio station with Flo Rida and Pitbull’s newest hit, “Can’t Believe It.” I guess Pandora’s Box isn’t called the receptacle of the world’s evils for nothing. The first lyric of the song serves as a complete summary, with Flo Rida commenting appreciatively, “Damn! That white girl got some ass.” It then goes on in that vein; what could have been a tribute to female beauty and would more likely have been a slightly disturbing but catchy love—or at least lust—song if it weren’t so unapologetically misogynistic and crass. “My last name must be Robbins,” Flo Rida comments in one of the few nonrepetitive lines of the song, “’cause I’m baskin’ in these asses—all 31 flavors keep callin’.” That one line sums up Flo Rida’s
attitude toward women throughout the entire 3:47-minute song. Women are summed up entirely by their assets below the waist, and this song pays tribute in its own twisted way to their existence, divorced from any sense of humanity or intelligence. In fact, one of the repeating motifs in the music video—aside from the hills shaped like asses, prancing poledancers, and random speedboats—is a line of bootylicious women with a CGI reflection at the waist so they literally have no heads; with two butts, a hint of a waist, and long, garter-and-stiletto encased legs; they are everything Flo Rida is apparently looking for in a woman, except double. All butt, no brains. The lyrics are no better. “I don’t care where you’re from, as long as you got that bubble yum” is made even more explicit with the comment, “I love my stereotypes.” Trust me; as a listener, I can
The Julie Ruin: “Run Fast” Dance-able, thoughtful and pissed off music from the queen of punk Michael Wood Music Editor Kathleen Hanna is no doubt, one of the most influential people in music today. From her tenure in Bikini Kill where she brought angry and insightful feminist tinged vocals to the garage punk scene of the early `90s, to her dance punk experiments with Le Tigre, her influence can be heard throughout the alternative rock scene today. Her new project, The Julie Ruin continues to impress along the same lines as before, delivering danceable punk, inspired lyrics, and a fresh sound that stands out among a musical environment dominated by the likes of Imagine Dragons and AWOLNATION. First off, the title track and the likely single off of this album is amazing. “Oh Come On” assaults you with loud guitars, a heavy beat and screeching vocals that draw you away from the nauseating boredom of listening to yet another hour of modern rock radio. The angry shouts of Kathleen Hanna balance perfectly with the sweet sounding “oh come on” uttered by the backup vocalists, reminding you that although this is pissed off punk for the most part, it has a surprisingly danceable
quality to it that sets it aside from most punk bands out there. Elsewhere you can hear a great deal of New Wave influence such as in the track “Kids in NY” which brought up memories of The Go Gos and The B-52s. The lyrics in this particular track are my favorite, with rabid anti-gentrification rhetoric being spit out faster than you can process it. But even if your yuppie ass loves gentrifying more than your lattes and BMWs, you can still appreciate the driving beat behind this amazing tune. Overall, “Run Fast” is a breath of fresh air in the music scene that demonstrates a new take on an old sound that Kathleen Hanna has nearly perfected throughout the years. While the album can be repetitive at times, it’s forgivable given the fact that it’s so damn catchy! With stand out tracks like “Oh Come On” “Kids in NY” and “Lookout!” to look forward to, I think it would be wise to pick up the new album which is hitting the shelves on September 3rd. But of course, if you can’t wait and won’t pay, you can stream it online from NPR today!
tell. And this song has somehow managed to surpass even “Bubble Butt” in terms of objectification and self-absorption. And those aren’t even the only problems with the song. Most frustratingly, it’s not even original! Sure, the Baskin Robbins reference is fun, but the line, “She got that badonka-donka-donk-donkey,” is insulting to Trace Adkin’s “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk,” and the very title of the song is stolen from a song by T-Pain and Lil Wayne. (Admittedly, T-Pain’s version doesn’t harken to very many feminist values, centering as it does around a job interview that turns into a lap dance in the back office, but at least that song deals only with one good-looking woman and suggests that she is educated and driven as well as being immensely fuckable. Flo Rida’s version doesn’t seem to care which woman—or set of women—it’s about.) “Can’t Believe It” has all of the necessary
bits for a contemporary pop hit. It has a catchy beat, a couple of entertaining lyrics, two big-name contributors, and even the compulsory two lines of Spanish. (Misogyny in two languages!) But it’s lacking even the smallest hint of human connection. If bodily attractiveness is really all Flo Rida cares about, fine. That’s his problem, but I like to hope the American public can bring itself to care about something more, and I truly hope that will result in this song disappearing as quickly as it’s appeared. It concerns me that it has gotten popular enough to be played on Pandora’s “Today’s Top Hits” station (#39 on Billboard’s Pop Hits). But still, as author Andrew Clements probably not-originally observed, “fad” is only one letter short of “fade.” If we’re lucky, the popularity of “Can’t Believe It” will quickly gain its “e.”
14
LITERATURE
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
The Twilight Spin-Off You Might Want to Read A review of Dianne Sylvan’s paranormal romance Of Shadow Born Sierra Patheal Campus Editor I’m honestly amazed I’m writing this article. I picked up Book 1 in Dianne Sylvan’s Shadow World series fully expecting to put it down two chapters in, and I ended up finishing it at 3 a.m. the next morning. The rest of the series has been the same way. The newest installment, Of Shadow Born, is no exception. The series is amazing in that it’s actually interesting. It’s not particularly original; amidst a sea of urban fantasy trying to distance itself from Twilight’s semiembarrassing success, Shadow World has traditional vampires—retractable fangs, sun allergies, black leather, and heavy eyeshadow included—and a musical empath as its female protagonist. Miranda, the empath, manages to become Austin’s vampire Queen by the end of Book 1; this is achieved, of course, by falling in love with and marrying the “Signet,” who is essentially the ruler of the
local vampiric coven. None of this is particularly new and exciting in the undead-infused world of urban fantasy. In fact, if I were being really cruel, I’d call it a Twilight spinoff. But despite its humdrum premise, Sylvan’s novels are catchy, compelling, and original in their composition, if not their conception. The writing style, characterizations, and plot of the stories are gripping enough to create a fascinating story where logic says there should be none. I read through Books 1 and 2 in a sort of disbelieving haze, wondering why in the world I was becoming so attached to characters I should by all rights be dismissing as onedimensional fan fiction knock-offs; by Book 3, I didn’t care anymore, I just wanted to know whether Dev—the most awesome, most broken vampire in the series—was going to survive. (The fact that he wasn’t the character left for dead at the end of the
Poetry Corner
“Just Ground Coffee Beans” Chrissy Bastian Contributor Coffee grounds, just used onceThen discarded Like tea bags and napkins At first the aroma is enticing Captivating, and draws you in But just by itself It’s bitter and brownAdding sugar, cream, or milk Can sweeten the grounds You would not want To eat them alone
Like one-night stands By itself, at first sure Excitement But alone it gets complex It needs added substance like love Affection, to give it lasting life It’s a rough and complex existence Is it all worthwhile? To be coffee grounds used Only once- then discarded
book made absolutely no difference.) Sylvan includes a couple of concepts in her books that escaped the Twilight franchise as well, which is refreshing in such a superficial series. Dev is gay and experiences varying levels of homophobia from different members of his traditionalist community; Miranda is raped at the beginning of the series and spends a realistic amount of time recovering from that experience; and Miranda’s husband, instead of having waited all of his centuries for her appearance and falling miraculously in love with her once she appears, actually had previous lovers, including one who crops up in Books 3 and 4 as a character we’ve all come to know and love. And wonder of wonders, all of these are presented in a fairly believable, interesting way. In the latest installment, Sylvan has introduced Wicca and witchcraft, a
development that hearkens back to her nonfiction publications and a subject where she clearly has plenty of external knowledge. She’s also broadened the series beyond the microcosm of Austin where it’s been focused to date, bringing in the possibility of worldwide consequences (can’t save the world if the world’s not at risk) and questions of theology (mostly in the form of Persephone, one of my favorite goddesses). Beyond that, it’s a fairly typical paranormal romance story, but in my humble opinion, it’s a very well-written paranormal romance story. Those are rare enough these days. I honestly think it’s worth giving a try, and if you put it down after chapter one, well, your tastes are just more refined than mine. I’m not above admitting I was thrown for a loop by a plain old vampire romance story. Are you?
Union Weekly—3 September 2013
FOOD
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Stone Cold Truth The difference between Icees, Slurpees, and slushies Roque Renteria Entertainment Editor
I took on this job to entertain you readers. However, I believe it is my moral obligation to inform you of things that may not be pretty or want to be heard. A new research survey conducted by three other friends and I found that 75% of Americans do not know the difference between Slurpees, Icees, and slushies. Considering how much fast food Americans eat, I would think they would be able to discern between the three. Results like these are the reason why China is ahead of us and going to take
over the world someday. Fear not, for I am here to set the record straight. I will now proceed to explain to you the differences between these three tasty beverages. Basically, the Slurpee and Icee are about the same. The biggest and most important difference is that Slurpee is only available at 7-Eleven. Icee has a larger distribution deal with several restaurants. Also, the Slurpee has several flavors, whereas the Icee usually has two. Occasionally, it may have a Coke flavor or White Cherry, in addition to its originals Cherry and Blue Raspberry.
Brain Freeze With a Kick How to properly spike your Slurpee Alfred Pallarca Assistant Editor
It’s true that the greatest inventions are born from accidents. This summer my friends and I were cruising and decided to get some Slurpees from 7-Eleven. We ended up in Venice where we decided to start drinking. We used our empty Slurpee cups to hold our vodka and mix it with orange juice. As I mindlessly poured some vodka in my friend’s half-full Slurpee cup, we realized that this whole time our favorite childhood drink could have been serving us some adult fun. We ditched the juice and grabbed more Slurpees, and from that moment on we began our vodka-filled Slurpee adventures. So far, I have mixed Slurpees with
Sven, Finlandia, and Grey Goose. My personal favorite is Sven (but after halfway through the cup, I really don’t care). Try emptying out at least 1/5 of the cup before adding the alcohol. If you want more excitement, I suggest draining half of it. For those who aren’t vodka fans, tequila works just as well, too. If you want to be more adventurous, you can get the “SourPatch” straw, which certainly adds a special flavor to it. If you want it more sweet, perhaps add some Skittles to keep that innocent vibe in the drink. Heck, you’re at 7-Eleven; you might as well get some Snickers and M&Ms, dump those in your drink, and see where your day takes you!
Now, here is where it gets a little tricky. Slushies do not have a copyright. A slushie is the generic name for flavoring with ice and water. Since its form has not been standardized by a company, the slushie varies by location. It is not a proper noun; therefore, it is not capitalized. The slushie is an idea, not a product. (Getting philosophical on your ass). Slurpees and Icees are consistently thick. Slushies may sometimes be extremely watery, and, let us not forget, the slushie does not end with “ee”. How can you
be a respected drink when you don’t have a novelty spelling? Just take McDonald’s’ products. All their products begin with “Mc”. That, my friends, is fucking classy. However, I digress. I hope this article was informative and you no longer confuse the three drinks. There is nothing worse in this world than misinforming others. You might as well become a journalist, if you wish to do that.
Volume 73 Issue 2
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
LBUNION.COM
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Observations ‘N Thoughts On Pornography or ON TOP
I
recently went to an adult video store for the first time, which was much cleaner than I imagined it would be, and I examined their aisles of endless pornography. I was surprised by the by Lou fact that there were Skant not too many fetish videos. I must admit, my favorite was one entitled It’s Okay, She’s Only My Stepdaughter. I haven’t yet seen the movie, but I am sure it does not fall short of its own unique depravity. There were a lot of satires, mostly of famous Hollywood films like Batman XXX: The Porn Parody (it really doesn’t need its title altered) starring Dale Dabone ( I’m pretty sure that is his legal birth name) as Bruce Wayne/Batman, and James Deen*, (whom we all know as the guy who handled Farrah Abraham from Teen Mom in the widely discussed Farrah Superstar: Backdoor Teen Mom) as Robin. Other stars include: Tori Black as Catwoman (throughout
the film, there are several “pussy” jokes), Lexi Belle as Barbara Gordon/Batgirl, and Alexis Texas as Molly. Impressively, the production value was not too bad on this film. Apparently, as told to me by the cashier, there are a few production companies that still cater to an audience of story lovers. Naturally, several subdivisions of pornographic films exist. For example, adult films with political themes have now cum into fruition. The most notable being Who’s Nailin’ Paylin. In Who’s Nailin’ Paylin, Lisa Ann* plays the title character. Christopher Hitchens predicted the future when he said that Palin “might be useful to a low-grade porno director.” The dialogue is, at best, stiff. The political jabs are unimpressive and puerile. But nonetheless, I am astounded by the fact that there’s a market for political porn. Megyn Kelly of Fox News (which is kind of like making pornos) said Who’s Nalin’ Paylin was “disgusting, it’s dirty —[the American people] wouldn’t want to see it.” I have to disrespectfully disagree with Kelly. Not about the film being disgusting; by definition, pornography is something that’s disgusting. That’s a textbook case of a priori
statement because they tell us nothing new about the world. Anyway, what I meant is I actually think the American people would want to see this. The American people should see this. I wouldn’t consider myself patriotic, but I could proudly call myself an American if all pornos included profound themes. As I mentioned earlier, most DVDs (Blu-ray has yet to become the dominant format) I browsed were parodies of Hollywood productions. This implies that most of the viewers are enamored with commercialism. Amazingly, they are watching a sexually escapist film about escapism. They are supplementing or contaminating, depends which way you look at it, their televisual realities in order to coalesce that reality with a pornograghic unreality. I find this amazing. A sick, twisted intertextuality and mental construction that philosophers and postmodern writers could only dream of. Just a few thoughts on pornography. I’m waiting for pornographic studies to become a discipline. It’s only a matter of time before it becomes a respected art form. Boogie Nights paved the way, AVN established a criteria
for exceptional performances and films, but most importantly, the Internet (I capitalize it because I believe it deserves to be capitalized) has become the Hall of Records. Anyone can be a porn star overnight. It only takes a digital camera and a Wi-Fi connection. Becoming an artist never been so easy. In conclusion, since the beginning of time humans have created pornography in one form or another. It is only now that we realize how omnipresent it really is. It alters our world view. We must understand pornography if we are to control it. Otherwise, like so many before us, pornography will consume us. Maybe it already has. * James Deen is quickly be(cumming) the John Holmes of our generation. ** Lisa Ann’s portrayal of Sarah Palin is on par with that Tina Fey’s. Her performances, both sexual and dramatic, are what runs through the minds of male supporters.
INSIDE
HETERO-BANANA SPOKESMEN ON HOMOPHOBIC MEXICO SENDS SYRIA NACHOS, WITH LOVE <3 SEGREGATION: “WE’RE ALL THE SAME UNDERNEATH”
TIM BURTON TO DIRECT AVATAR/ WILLY WONKA CROSSOVER