July 2011 by The Yeti

The

Yeti Monster Coverage.

05 2011 JULY

The Commuter Train That Could

I thought music was for dancing

Lulz-Sec Cyber warfare warfare and the state state of the internet internet

www.TheYetiOnline.com

Tally duo S.B.E. open up to The Yeti

Also new stories and poems!

Issue 5, July 2011

The Yeti

The

Yeti Monster Coverage.

Yeti Editorial Staff EDITOR IN CHIEF MANAGING EDITOR

Thomas Nudi Stephanie Hernandez

DESIGN EDITOR

Andrew Tanner Shane Martin

BLOG EDITOR

Christopher Cartright

ART DIRECTOR PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR WEB EDITOR FINANCE DIRECTOR MARKETING DIRECTOR ASST. MARKETING DIRECTOR PUBLIC RELATIONS ARCHIVIST FRONT COVER BY BACK COVER BY

David Tarafa Anna Spencer Corey Johns Stefan Massol Amber Pepe Angela McCune Kylyn Swann Aaron Summers David Tarafa Christina Ortiz

Letter from the Editor I could spend this entire letter talking about the controversy I met as soon as I came on as Editor-in-Chief this past May. I could slam the radicals who turned against us because they didn’t agree with a certain opinion piece. I could take a moment to discuss the importance of independent media in the community and the lack of it in Tallahassee, specifically. I won’t though. These are all important topics, but as my time as leader ends paralleling my graduation, I’d rather not focus on the negatives and the ignorant people who attempt to quiet voices they don’t agree with.Allow me to focus on the positive. The Yeti has changed drastically since 2005 and especially in the last three months. It has gone from an (extremely) fragmented organization to a well-oiled and intelligent machine, made up of passionate and charismatic members. The Yeti has become a safe-haven for writers and thinkers, cultivating their abilities and pushing them to go beyond the surface. This team of dedicated and caring individuals came on board radiating integrity: a virtue I had thought was lost amongst my peers. They all took responsibility without complaint and worked tirelessly to produce what you hold in your hands. I couldn’t have done my job without their support. Let this be my love letter to all my fellow staff members...my friends…who made this issue of The Yeti come to fruition—to all of those who gave a damn, not only about the final product, but about The Yeti and the team as a whole. I couldn’t have done it without each and every one of them. What a way to end my years in Tallahassee…. Thomas Nudi Editor in Chief

Mission

The Yeti is a student-run, conversation-driven magazine that serves the FSU Campus, Tallahassee and readers nationwide. The Yeti provides an alternative to corporately funded, commercial media by voicing unique perspectives on current events and culture. The Yeti’s purpose is to be an outlet for the independent voice of the community in news, opinions, arts and literature in order to broaden perspectives and promote intelligent discourse.

The Yeti operates only with the help of a dedicated staff of volunteer writers. We thank them for their hard work and support. If you’d like to get involved with The Yeti, e-mail fsuyeti@gmail.com or visit our website: www.theyetionline.com.

Campus Progress works to help young people — advocates, activists, journalists, artists — make their voices heard on issues that matter. Learn more at CampusProgress.org.

Want to Advertise with The Yeti? We love supporting local businesses and Tallahassee events. Contact us at fsuyeti@gmail.com for pricing and other information.

The West Wing

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The opinions expressed in the Views section are those of the writers, and do not necessarily represent the views of The Yeti itself.

Table of Contents

News

Views

Lit

04 Corporate Media

Reality TV

1 6 Mr. Fluffpaws 20 S.B.E.

06 LulzSec

Animal Collective

Digging Holes

08 Tibet

Tales From Tampa, FL

Poetry

What is BIG news doing to our society? Have we lost touch with what’s important? Hackers waging cyber warfare, the internet’s future is uncertain

Oppression -China’s continued silencing of Tibetan Monks

09 Voting Restrictions

Is our escape from the grind our new reality?

One listener’s experience with a beloved band

The continuation to the series of demented proverbs sent to us by the mysterious John Fisher

Arts & Life A short story from Aaron Summers

A tale by Christopher Cartright

Three poems from Florida poets

Get a glimpse of local hip hop stars Gainstaville and Killa Cali in their natural habitat

22 Charles Trippy

Isn’t there something better to watch than this?

Salad 23 Bread Recipe

Don’t throw away that stale bread, try this recipe

New legislation hinders voter registration

SunRail

Get on or get out, Central FL railway sparks controversy

Issue 5, July 2011

News The Yeti

All the News That’s Fit for Profit

By Joe Berg, Syndicated from

While the national media foments the scandal slowly overshadowing Rupert Murdoch and his News Corp., there are serious issues about media ownership in the U.S. that the public is unlikely to hear about from conglomerated media – organizations which are looking to expand their powers. Such issues include the FCC’s recently stalled attempt to loosen regulations and allow newspapers in the top 20 media markets to also own television stations, as well as campaigns by the major internet service providers to eliminate Net Neutrality – which would give them the ability to block or impair access to any sites they desire. This could effectively make Comcast, and others, internet gatekeepers that only allow their customers to reach information provided by paying sponsors. The media ownership conflict is not just one that plays out on the national stage, as local media around the country has also been adversely affected. The media advocacy group Free Press reports that nationally only one in five daily newspapers are published by an independent company, and the number of radio station owners has fallen more than 35% since 1996. This trend is also true in Tallahassee, where not

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one major media outlet (including print, television and radio sources) is locally owned. CORPORATE CONTROL News Corp is one of the six major corporations – deemed the Big Six – that control the lion’s share of media in the United States, standing alongside General Electric, Walt Disney, Time Warner, Viacom, and CBS. By any quantitative measurement – be it market reach, annual revenues, ratings, etc. – these Titans of industry have control over everything from cable and broadcast television, to radio, to magazines and newsprint, to books, and the internet. Big media is big business. Free Press reports that the communications industry has spent more than $1 billion on lobbying efforts from 1998 to 2008 – or $100 million a year -- and in 2006 it spent more on lobbyists than any other industry -- including drug and oil companies. And under the profits/ratings system, the national media can be expected to run content for one of several reasons: it benefits their interests or works against the interests of a competitor; it increases revenues; or it would be in the public’s interest (as they see fit.) As one example, the Pew Center for Excellence in Journalism recently analyzed

one hour of mid-day news coverage by CNN, MSNBC and Fox News Channel from July 6-15, the height of the News Corp scandal. They found that CNN spent more than 35 minutes covering the scandal over the course of those eight days. MSNBC had 18+ minutes of coverage, and Fox News – owned by News Corp – spent just three minutes and 52 seconds on the issue (or 29 seconds per day.) This study reveals News Corp’s unwillingness to report negatively upon itself, and the eagerness of the other news outlets to hit their competitors when they can. But it also highlights the shortcomings of conglomerated media when it comes to serving the public’s interest: rare or non-existent is coverage of net neutrality or media ownership issues. NEW CONSUMPTION HABITS A 2010 joint report by the Pew Research Center’s Internet & American Life Project and its Project for Excellence in Journalism revealed where the average American gets his or her news on a typical day: 78% from a local television station; 73% from a national network; 61% from online sources; 54% from the radio; 50% from the print version of a local newspaper; and 17% from a national newspaper like The New York Times.

2009 Revenues: $157 billion

2009 Revenues: $36.1 billion

2009 Revenues: $30.4 billion

2009 Revenues: $25.8 billion

BIG

The

viacom 2009 Revenues: $13.6 billion

Additionally, 46% of respondents get their news from four to six of the above sources each day, and another 46% get their news from two to three of them. This would be healthy – that we are gathering news from multiple platforms and sources, both local and national – if conglomerated media didn’t hold sway over all of them. Further, it is also often unclear to the public who owns local media outlets, and many consumers may assume that because a source is local it is more trustworthy. LOCAL PRINT NEWS The effects of corporate ownership in a local community have been felt here in Tallahassee. Gannett Company, parent to Tallahassee’s daily newspaper since 2005, was wholly unprepared for the market crash. In 2008, the first year of the recession, the halt of consumer spending caused an avalanche in advertising and subscription rates across the print industry. That year Gannett incurred more than $13 billion in expenses – similar to previous years -- and lost $6.7 billion, according to its 2009 annual report. The problems for Gannett compounded through 2009. Their stock value plummeted

2009 Revenues: $13 billion

to 2% of its all-time high set just four years earlier. Their credit rating fell and their properties became loan collateral. They were straddled with more than $3 billion in long-term debt – half of their total assets -- that was to begin maturing this year and next. The company owed half a billion dollars to its pension fund, and it had only $1.25 billion left on its revolving lines of credit. All of this as revenues continued to fall sharply. The response was to stop the hemorrhaging by drastically cutting expenses. In 2009, more than $8 billion in expenses (64%) were slashed across every property owned by Gannett. The company just barely managed to get ahead of the curve, and that year Gannett made $129 million in profit (a 2.3% margin.) These cuts hit every property the company owned, including The Tallahassee Democrat, which has had several rounds of layoffs since. There have also been several weeklong furloughs for all employees of Gannett over the past two years, including one in the first half of 2011. When local newspapers have fewer writers and less space, they are less equipped to provide content that is vital to the communities they operate in – especially when they are the only paper. As a result, subscriptions may slide as readers see less value. That further loss in

revenue would leave even fewer resources for producing quality content, and so continues the downward spiral. The Democrat continues to recede in circulation, publishing just over 22,000 copies in Leon County based ZIP codes from Monday to Thursday (according to a January, 2011 circulation projection report.) And circulation in that same area fell 17% from January 2010 to January of this year. On paper, given Gannett’s position during the economic collapse, such cuts were probably not optional. But any profits generated by The Democrat are needed by the parent corporation, through its own admission, to keep the company afloat and to pay down long-term debt. A locally owned corporation is less likely to be saddled with such enormous problems, and would be more likely to defend its reputation by reinvesting in content and the community. As the profit-motivated major media outlets face the harsh realities of a lackluster economy they will continue to fight for what matters most: their own survival. As a result, local journalism and culture can suffer, less information may be available on every level, and the diversity of viewpoints is often diminished.

Joe Berg is publisher of Capital City Villager, an independent news, arts and entertainment weekly coming soon in print to Tallahassee. This abridged article, which is provided here through a special Issue 5, content sharing agreement with The Yeti, can be viewed in its entirety at TallyVillager.com

July 2011

The Yeti

By Corey Johns

// Assaulting the Internets The past few months on the internet read like a Hollywood screenplay: hackers—either daring or dastardly, depending on which side you play for—committing wave after wave of security breaches, termed cyber warfare by the law enforcement agencies that try to stop them. But after all the talk on the web, it is still unclear to many who these people are, let alone what drives them. And more importantly, it remains uncertain how the average internet user will be affected. The six hackers that comprise Lulz Security, or LulzSec for short, are at the root of many of these attacks. LulzSec surfaced only a few months ago but the list of attacks runs long: from media outlets like Fox, PBS and Sony Pictures, to video game studios, security consulting firms, and government websites for the CIA and Senate, a variety of businesses and government agencies have been targets during what the group called “50 Days of Lulz.” In this period, dozens of websites were hacked, and millions of user accounts leaked, before the group called it quits. By many accounts, the group can be considered a byproduct of internet culture. They use Twitter to flaunt their attacks and communicate with fans and detractors. Their press releases are rife with internet memes, ideas and phrases that propagate throughout online communities. Their website blares the theme song from The Love Boat, which is also a recurring theme in other materials the group releases, playing on the word “love” and the internet slang “lulz.” It seems that despite the seriousness of their attacks,

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Lulzsec maintains a mocking and irreverent attitude. The group does offer their motives on various attacks, however thin they may be. For example, although they claim to have attacked PBS to defend WikiLeaks (a non-profit publisher of secret and classified media from anonymous whistleblowers), the group has been known to defend rappers such as Common. The group pulls some punches, as well: after hacking into Nintendo’s servers, they declared they had no malicious intent and disclosed the security flaw to the company without leaking any passwords. The conflicting motivations for their attacks add to the confusion surrounding them. After targeting various companies and popular video game studios, LulzSec began attacking organizations affiliated with federal agencies, such as contractors for the FBI and CIA. Prolifically, they defaced the website for the Senate, senate. gov, leaking data and releasing a message concluding: “Is this an act of war, gentleman?” Even their followers earn no lenience: days after the final release, the group announced that malware had been planted among the leaked data, to infect those who downloaded it. While government agencies remain terse on the subject, to the point of ignoring the group’s actions publicly, an unlikely source of conflict arises. Various other hacker groups have taken up arms against LulzSec, for one reason or another. A group termed TeaMp0isoN defaced their website, stating that the group’s actions were trivial and undeserving of the media attention. A hacker by the handle “The Jester”— who, fittingly enough, claims to perform hacks out of a sense of American patriotism—claimed to

News

have released personal information of members of the group, leaking chat logs and the occupations of the hackers. In late June, London police arrested a man named as a member of LulzSec, though the group publicly stated that he was a lesser member only involved in running a public chat room. He has since been released on bail. So how does this affect you and your online world? Although LulzSec is now defunct, with members moving on to other groups, it is startling to observe how just a few people could impact so many. More people than ever before are using the internet, all the more to fall victim to these attacks. With social networking and internet gaming comprising a large part of what we do online, it is important to take steps to defend your private data from hackers. One of the major concerns for online security is the strength of a password. Although it can be tempting to use a short, simple word for a password to make it easier to remember, it is grossly insecure. As processing power continues to

increase, hackers can utilize clusters of servers to guess millions of passwords per second. If the word used as a password can be found in the dictionary, it is likely to take less than five minutes for such clusters to crack it. However, in many cases it is possible for hackers to obtain your data without a password, by instead exploiting a security flaw in a website. The companies that own these servers have an obligation to provide security for their users, but they can fail. There is the larger concern of what groups like LulzSec could mean for the internet at large. Many security professionals and free speech advocates have pointed out that the wave of attacks could be seen as an excuse to begin restricting the internet. Some legislators have called the internet without such restrictions as “the wild west,” suggesting that if users were more easily traceable and prosecuted hackers would not be able to disrupt so much.

The events of the past few months have happened in a particularly crucial time of the internet, where there remains heavy debate on the issue of network neutrality laws. Such laws would prohibit internet service providers and other companies that provide internet access from restricting access to certain websites or throttling certain users. Recently, the House approved Joint Resolution 37, which would ban the FCC from implementing its “Preserving the Open Internet” to ensure net neutrality. However, it has endured fierce opposition and is expected to be vetoed. Cable and internet providers heavily lobby legislators on these issues, and it is quite foreseeable for the actions of LulzSec to be used in such efforts against a neutral internet. This may run quite counter to the group’s ideals, as several released statements have been made in opposition to restrictions by internet service providers. While it is uncertain the repercussions LulzSec will have on the internet, it is clear that they are not the final threat to your online security. As our culture becomes increasingly intertwined with the internet, digital attacks become more serious than ever.

Issue Issue5,5, July July2011 2011

The Yeti By Amber Pepe and Kylyn Swann

This June, Freedom House, a U.S.based watchdog organization released Worst of the Worst 2011: The World’s Most Repressive Societies, its annual report of the most severe human rights violators, at a press conference during a UN Human Rights Council in Geneva. Rated on a scale of 1 to 7 (1 being the worst, 7 the best), Tibet scored a 1 for the tenth year in a row. The celebration of the Dalai Lama’s 76th birthday this July serves as a reminder of the centuries-long strife and religious persecution to which the Tibetan people have been subjected. Both the preservation of Tibetan culture and the basic human rights of Tibet’s citizens have been neglected and continue to deteriorate. The Chinese have enforced certain limits on Tibetans’ freedom to practice Buddhism, the foundation and perhaps the most integral part of Tibetan culture. Public prayer for the 14th Dalai Lama, for example, has been banned, as well as all unauthorized large public gatherings. In February 2009, the “Tibet Branch” of the Buddhist Association of China made efforts to demonize the Dalai Lama in the eyes of Tibetan monks and nuns, using state-controlled media to charge him as a “de facto criminal” and a threat to Tibetan Buddhism. Recent events at Kirti Monastery, a large Tibetan monastery within the Ngawa Tibetan and Qiang Autonomous Prefecture of Sichuan, China, are reflective of the Tibetan struggle as a whole; the monastery has been on lockdown by Chinese authorities since March of 2008. Since then, Tibetans have held numerous demonstrations, resulting in their arrest, detainment and even death, according to The International Campaign for Tibet’s (ICT) website. On March 16th of this year, a 20-year-old Tibetan monk known as Phuntsog died following an act of selfimmolation, which he committed during an antiChinese demonstration. Some who reported to ICT claimed that the monk was beaten in the streets by Chinese authorities before being taken by fellow monks and laypeople to a local hospital, where he finally died. Particularly bizarre to the outside world looking in on the Tibetan situation is the staunch denial of any wrongdoing by Chinese authorities. Though, the suspicious behavior of the Chinese government does not end simply in denial: Chinese officials have launched a series of elaborate cover-up schemes so that they may operate as they please under the guise of normalcy. The illusion of peace and harmony

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in the Tibetan region cast by the Chinese government seems to veil only the eyes that never actually look upon the situation. In July of 2007, Radio Free Asia reported that Chinese authorities had shut down a website run by a Tibetan, due to his posting so-called “political content.” This was by no means an isolated case; since at least 2006, Tibetans seem to have been experiencing digital degeneration, while most of the outside world has experienced rapid, massive technological development. On March 16th of this year, the same day as the self-immolation and death of the monk Phuntsog, a website called TibetCul. com was pulled by the Chinese government. Although several pro-Tibetan websites

continue to exist, they all seem quite unremarkable and unprofessional. Phayul.com, perhaps the most comprehensive pro-Tibetan website, is loaded with content and is kept impressively up-to-date, but pesky ads take up a generous amount of the page space, making the font size small and the content claustrophobic. Somewhat eerie is the fact that the most comprehensive website about Tibet is run by the Chinese. Hosted at Tibet.cn in several different languages, China Tibet Online has very few and only relevant ads and has an excellent site directory, featuring sections including travel, culture, opinion and news. The news section is notably bereft of violent anti-Tibetan events such as the demonstration in Ngaba this March. Anti-Dalai Lama editorials and stories of China’s

overwhelming positive influence over the Tibetan region and people are also littered about the website. As recently as June of this year, Chinese officials at Kirti Monastery attempted to force the monks there to hold a ritualistic healing ceremony. The public event, which was to be televised, would have served as a display of an apparent end to the unrest at the monastery. Many of the monks refused to participate, however, undermining the plan of the Chinese government. “When only about 40 elderly monks showed up,” monks from Kirti’s sister monastery in India told ICT, “a group of government officials went to the dormitories and told the other monks to come out. The monks replied that the event was being staged for false propaganda purposes, so they could not comply.” Though the efforts of the Chinese government to polish the presented image of its involvement with Tibet are sturdy and ceaseless, there is very little they can do about the fortunate, few outspoken individuals who have been able to escape from the region. Palden Gyatso, a Tibetan monk who survived 33 years of Chinese imprisonment, is one such individual. Gyatso was arrested in 1959 for refusing to implicate fellow Tibetans in spying on the Chinese government. Since his release and exile in 1992, Gyatso has gone to great lengths to speak out against the Chinese treatment of Tibetans. During his imprisonment, Palden Gyatso was subjected to attempted reeducation, perilous work in labor camps, and torture, all of which the Chinese government denies, despite the fact that Gyatso managed to smuggle evidence of his abuse out of prison in the form of several instruments of torture. According to Gyatso, things have not improved since his long captivity; tortures and killings are still regularly occurring today, as brutally as ever. When a Tibetan is killed, “they go back to the family,” Gyatso says, “and say you have to pay for five bullets or for the rope. I sometimes have no words to express behavior like that.” While the Dalai Lama has been giving talks and meeting with President Obama in the United States this month, the violence facing Tibetans has been raging on. On July 12th, two teenage schoolgirls participating in an antiChina protest in Eastern Tibet were beaten to the point of critical condition, arrested, detained and have been denied medical attention. It is clear that the oppression of Tibetans by the Chinese is a breach of basic human rights.

News

SB2086: Democracy’s New Muzzle By Carley Sattler

This past fall brought with it a huge insurgence of voter registration drives, not only across campuses but city-wide. Organizations hustled to register as many people as possible before the election, many falling victim to fees or other penalties as they struggled to meet regulations. Noting this, many may be surprised to hear about the passage of Senate Bill 2086, often referred to by those it impacts most directly as the Voter Suppression Bill. Not only does this new legislation make registering new voters far more difficult for organizations but it also seriously disenfranchises students. Prior to the bill’s passage voters were able to change their addresses at the poll. College students attending school in a county outside of that of their registered address often fail to realize that many elections occur while school is still in session. Before SB2086, students had a last minute option that allowed them to vote without having to travel home by reregistering with their school address at the polling location. It’s sad to think of how low youth voter turnout may dip in upcoming elections as a result of this bill’s

passage. What may prove far more harmful, however, are the new restrictions being placed on 3rd party voter registration organizations. One of the toughest new regulations requires that all new registrations be submitted within 48 hours of being collected. Each registration submitted late will result in fines for the group. Fines can total up to $1000, with each late registration costing

the organization $50. For student voter registration groups like Florida Public Interest Research Group at Florida State University (FSUPIRG), this means voter registration will be a real hassle. Even if it is ruled that the organization missed a deadline due to something like an impossibility of performance, the partisan election official can fine the organization up to $1000. For groups with canvassers who pass out dozens of voter registrations daily, this could prove to be a real fiasco. The bill also seriously limits registration in college dorms. Partners of registration organizations would have to submit forms to the organization that they report to before they could be submitted officially, all within this same 48 hour window. Since this 48 hour deadline is set from the time the form is signed, those assisting in registration efforts no longer really have the option of taking home voter registration forms for family or friends to sign. Many groups that currently participate in voter registration drives are low in funding, if they even receive funding at all. Fees act as a serious disincentive and are likely to result in less people trying to register new voters, undoubtedly resulting in a lower future turnout at the polls. In addition to fines, this new legislation poses more threats of entirely shutting down organizations. When groups want to conduct voter registration at larger events, each volunteer must be assigned registrations and if any of the uncompleted registrations are not returned, the organization risks getting shut down. This means that if one volunteer fails to return one registration, an entire organization’s voter registration privileges may be revoked. Tracking down every registration will undoubtedly cost substantially more than the previous processes. Unfortunately, these are only some

of the restrictions that SB2086 is putting on organizations like FSUPIRG. Although also running campaigns on consumer advocacy, environmental issues, and other democratic issues, voter registration has always been one area in which PIRG placed heavy focus. The youth is what will shape the future of our country and PIRG has always known that making and keeping their voices heard in the political sphere is important. It’s unfortunate that threats of such heavy fines have created such an air of fear amongst members that many have asked that PIRG cancel our annual Get Out the Vote campaign. While ultimately, PIRG plans to stand strong and work through these new challenges, many organizations just cannot take the risks. The government should make participating in politics easy for the general public, not an obstacle course that makes it next to impossible to be or feel represented. It is gratifying to see that many are using this injustice as inspiration to become more involved or, in some cases, involved for the first time in rallies, protests, or organizations that work to overcome the challenges that SB2068 poses instead of using it as an excuse to sit back and let their voices become muffled.

Issue 5, July 2011

The Yeti

Pushes Forward By Stefan Massol

Shortly before noon on July 1st, sighs of relief and disappointment were almost audible from Tallahassee to Miami as Florida Governor Rick Scott announced that Central Florida’s commuter rail project would be allowed to proceed. The $1.2 Billion plan was put on hiatus by the governor this past March, on the heels of his decision to reject $2.4 Billion in federal funding for a high-speed rail project that would have connected Tampa to Orlando. Critics lamented that Governor Scott’s decision to turn down the federal funds cost Floridians countless jobs and the opportunity to substantially reduce congestion on Insterstate-4. Now, with his approval ratings foundering below 35%, Governor Scott has decided to give SunRail a chance. SunRail is a commuter rail project that will service Central Florida with thirteen stops stretching from Poinciana to Deland. It features free parking in garages located at stops in suburban areas and an average price of $2.50 for trips within counties and a $1.00 fee for commutes that cross county borders. Rail service is expected to begin in 2013, with all stops operational by 2015. Restroom facilities, wireless Internet connectivity, power outlets and luggage and bicycle accommodations will be available on all trains. Additionally, enhanced bus and private shuttle services are expected to feed SunRail station stops, allowing commuters easy access from a station to their place of work. The cost of SunRail is estimated at $1 Billion with the federal government providing 50% of support and state and local government each providing 25% of the remaining funds. SunRail was first announced by Governor Jeb Bush, but few details were released regarding the negotiations until November 2007 when it was announced that the Florida Department of Transportation (FDOT) agreed to pay CSX $432 million for the “A” Line connecting Deland to Poinciana. The process of bringing

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News

SunRail to reality was fraught with contention as lawmakers struggled with FDOT to craft a fair deal for taxpayers. The major holdup: deciding how to allocate the liability cost. The deals proposed providing liability waivers to the companies were deemed too risky and costly to taxpayers by many state legislators. State Senator Paula Dockery of Lakeland led the charge against FDOT’s liability deal. In an interview she explained that “high jury verdicts against CSX are not unusual. A jury in New Orleans awarded damages of $3.37 billion, including $2.5 billion in a punitive damage award against CSX in relation to a 1987 chemical fire.” Dockery also provided a memo sent by the Federal Railroad Administrator, Joseph Boardman, on March 27, 2007, in which Boardman states that despite improvement by CSX, “the railroad is still not doing enough to make safety a top priority.” He said that FRA inspectors identified problems in every area of the company’s safety performance, including track, hazardous materials, and on-track equipment. Additionally, Dockery cited a story published by Insurance Journal detailing the results of an FRA probe finding 3,518 safety violations on CSX railroad properties. Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer led the Central Florida Commuter Rail Commission and played a pivotal role in moving the SunRail negotiations forward. In assessing the negotiations over liability, Christine Kefauver, Mayor Dyer’s transportation advisor, explained that much of the anger over legal immunity was focused in lobbying organizations that provide substantial contributions to state legislators. As she recalls, the Florida Justice Association, a powerful lobby representing tort lawyers, expressed strong opposition to immunity as it would limit the number of civil suits resulting from SunRail. Additionally, state labor unions opposed immunity out of fears that employees would have difficulties receiving compensation for work-related griev-

ances. Kefauver also described problems in the media’s coverage of the liability disputes in the legislature. As Kefauver recalled, one writer for the Tampa Tribune went on to work for Senator Paula Dockery. Kefauver accused friends of Dockery’s in the press of seeding information for her in the Tampa Tribune and that the newspaper’s conflict of interest was greatly distorting coverage of the negotiations. Ultimately the no-fault shared liability, protecting CSX from litigation regarding FDOT commuter trains and shielding FDOT from paying freight damages on CSX trains, was deemed a fair deal for taxpayers by the legislature. Now that the disputes over liability have been resolved, there is a heated debate among Floridians regarding the long-range feasibility of SunRail. Opponents argue that while FDOT estimates that SunRail revenue will cover 54% of the operating costs, the national average for commuter rail lines is a paltry 15-20%. Critics believe that ridership estimates provided by FDOT are exaggerated. Critics warn that without significantly higher fares the project will fail to provide the benefits that officials have promised to Florida’s economy. In a year of lagging business growth and a flailing housing market, many critics are wary of the risk. Despite the groaning of naysayers, SunRail has still evoked tremendous enthusiasm from many citizens and politicians in the Central Florida area. The prospect of adding nearly 10,000 jobs to the economy, coupled with optimistic projections by FDOT, has led U.S. Representative John Mica (R-FL) to call the project “as significant for the state as when Henry Flagler brought the railroad to Florida and when President Eisenhower initiated the interstate.” The private sector was fundamental in garnering support and funding for the project. The largest contribution came from Florida Hospital, pledging $3.5 million for a station at the location of its downtown hospital. Further support

came from CSX, Walt Disney World, and the Tupperware Corporation. Since the economic downturn, Central Florida’s unemployment rate has skyrocketed with the sharp decline in construction demand. The prospect for job creation has many Floridians ecstatic about Governor Scott’s announcement of SunRail’s future. Concerns of the economic impact drive most infrastructure decisions. It was the purported impetus behind Governor Scott’s rejection of High-Speed-Rail, and ironically the reason for frustration by many proponents of the project. Sadly, nobody can see the future and economic impact analyses are merely educated guesses based on historical data, which may or may not reflect future patterns. Perhaps it is not surprising that conservatives are riskaverse when it comes to going out on a limb for SunRail, or most rail projects for that matter. The status-quo for Orlando would be commuting on Interstate-4, exponential suburban sprawl, and precipitous gasoline consumption. If commuters began living and working near rail stations, many things would be different. But supposing that gas prices linger above the $3.00/gallon mark over the course of an entire year, that motorists would rather sit on a train for 20 minutes than be trapped on I-4 for a full “rush hour, and highway fatalities decline as fewer people race bumper to bumper while weaving through densely saturated highway lanes, there may be a major social benefit to SunRail. The story of SunRail is the process of how modern infrastructure overcomes all adversity to offer a glimmer of hope to the economically distraught. It is the story of political players, powerful interests, and costly negotiations. It is the story of seeing a light through the obfuscation of darkness in a tunnel, and relentlessly pushing forwards. SunRail’s success can be credited to many elusive factors. Perhaps the explanation is that big problems call for even bigger ideas, and big ideas, like runaway freight cars, are unstoppable.

Issue 5, 5, July July 2011 2011 Issue

The Yeti

Reality Television is Decadent and Depraved By Aaron Summers This might just do nobody any good… For most people, entertainment is nothing more than a distraction, which is fine. The anxieties of the human experience are enough that one’s own mental health may be at risk if we don’t indulge from time to time in what Milan Kundera might have referred to as “the lightness of being”: things of no consequence or pertinence, things of no weight. In other words: television. One of the first and most prominent personalities of the glowing box was Edward R. Murrow, who was bright enough to understand its power. He understood this new technology to be an important tool that could be used for a number of things; ideally, in his case, for information and illumination. But even back in 1958, when Murrow was at the end of his career, he saw the direction in which his industry was going, and in a speech he gave, which subsequently burned nearly every professional bridge this national icon had ever made, he prophesized the next half-century of content on the airwaves. When he looked at the prime time scheduling of all three of the major networks he saw “evidence of decadence, escapism and insulation from the realities of the world in which we live.” But that’s not what I’m talking about here, not entirely anyway. Even if the bulk of television doesn’t consist of the news and less intellectually lackluster versions of the History and Discovery Channels, something as disturbing and anti-intellectual as Reality Television need not be patronized in a world as advanced as ours. Of course, the highest art of any era wasn’t always the most popular. Shakespeare was, in his day, always in heavy competition with the bearbaiting pits the same way, 200 years later, Gilbert and Sullivan and Oscar Wilde were maybe considered high-brow alternatives to traveling expositions of anatomical maladies. Think: John Merrick. As Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant wrote “The Victorian freak show never went away.” The difference today is that the ‘freaks’ are on both sides of the bars. There was a time when in order to be an entertainer, in any industry, you had to possess some modicum of talent, some ability to awe or inspire or, at the very least, effectively contribute to the telling of a decent narrative. This is no longer the case. While a few of these series are set around competitions–who’s the best clothing designer, runway model, dancer, karaoke singer, Donald Trump wannabe, etc –the appeal of these programs isn’t so much seeing who comes out victorious and how. What seems to attract viewers to these shows, as well as the likes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and

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The Jersey Shore is rather the opportunity for people to stare at and drool over (in the most voyeuristic of fashions) the inane scandals and petty discords between the ‘personalities’ the shows feature. If someone were to wonder what exactly is so appealing about such programs, a cynical person would say that the answer is in the moniker: ‘Reality’ Television. Of course, this stuff may be as real as professional wrestling, but the verisimilitude in this case, is the highest selling point. These people aren’t celebrities; they’re ‘real’ people, just like us, the real America. What’s disturbing here is that these real people are, for the most part, vain, self-centered, vapid, immature, maudlin, peevish, petty, and completely and utterly fucking STUPID! The question is that if we like watching and listening to people like this because they’re on television, and they’re just like us… well, what does that say about us? Another disturbing question is: when it gets to the point where we no longer require our television celebrities to be anything more than meritless tabloid head-lines we can gossip over in the quad, the break room, or around the water cooler, where else might our standards drop? Will it eventually be a standard for politicians, the people who write our laws and represent us in the world’s most important institutions, to attempt an air of being inarticulate, disengaged, and unsophisticated so their constituents might find them more relatable? Will people openly admit that they helped elect someone because they wanted to invite them

over for pot roast or have a beer with them? Will ex-politicians and their families completely cross (and thereby continue to blur) the line between news and entertainment by becoming “reality” contestants or actually having entire “reality” programs produced about their lives? Well, I certainly hope not, because, as both an American and a human being, that shit would just embarrass me. Entertainment was never a strictly highminded enterprise, but there are few points in recent history that have brought it so low. We watch television to be stimulated, to feel that vicarious ecstasy of falling in love like Ross and Rachel or discovering the truth and bringing punishment to the wicked like the CSI squads and Walker: Texas Ranger; and as long as there is such a thing as scripted television, we still will. What stimulates us when watching Reality Television is the opportunity to indulge in what I’m seeing to be our nation’s truly preferred pastime: indignation. Our superegos have run amok and they’re no longer addressing our ids (I mean, look at how fat we are). We want to stare at flawed people so we can judge and jeer at them and gossip and blog about them anonymously from the safety of our homes. It is mainstream pornography of the worst kind, that of human indignity. It is a gross spectacle of the absolute worst qualities within us, and many of us watch it every night, mouth-agape and drooling into our-beer stained Snuggies while we plant grooves into our couch cushions and masturbate vigorously with Cheeto-dusted fingers.

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Animal Collective: We’ll Hope You Dance to Your Bad Weather By Anna Spencer

Attending the Animal Collective show in Orlando this past July, I noticed how dramatically varied the crowd was. Some were like: “Do we dance now?” and of course the hipsters had their radar on (i.e. “Time to judge you!”). Animal Collective is such an energetic and inventive band, it’s hard to believe the awkward and pretentious types even showed up. I realize that we all perceive music in different ways and enjoy music differently, but the idea of raining on someone else’s parade at an event like a concert got me thinking about what constitutes the decision to go see a band live in the first place, and why some of us have such an aversion to what most people call fun. The old “life is a stage” adage fits perfectly when one is a part of an audience. I have been to roughly one hundred concerts in my life, and the crowds are nearly always half the show. When I go to a concert I like to have fun, not just stand around. I’m not complaining, I am simply trying to understand why people are such assholes to those who are there to have a good time. Seriously. The reprimands and fuck-yous towards our less-than-rowdy group for enjoying and experiencing live music was a bit of a whatthe-fuck moment. Then again, I’ve never been to a show where this doesn’t happen. The balance of pretentious hipsters without souls and the hey-I-paid-good-money-to-see-an-awesomeband-hell-yes-I’m-dancing folk often fluctuates. The Animal Collective show provided the most interesting collection of folks to decode these social norms and piqued my curiosity about the different types of people that go to their live shows. Going to multiple music festivals and concerts, ranging from Langerado to Bonnaroo and Against Me! to Metallica, I understand the need for some people to chill out. But come on… dancing? Even fist pumping? God have mercy if someone rushes the stage! My friends and I were looked at like we each had five heads when we rushed the stage, but it’s about the equivalent of a rite of passage for any music fan. Maybe people don’t understand it or realize how awesome it makes the band feel when the crowd is actually enjoying themselves. I can understand someone getting pissed off about getting kicked in the face, but true music fans understand these casualties and

certainly have the sense to get out of the way when others start to feel the music at Level 11.

I am sure Animal Collective has seen their fair share of boring couples at their shows, but is that really the kind of crowd they are playing for? I mean really, why not just toke up at home and put headphones on? The band shed insight themselves in an online statement about what they hope for fans to get from their shows: “at times totally pleasing and at others completely scary and confusing, but most importantly refreshing in this crazy, crazy world.” Truly, they were quite the refreshment; the intensity of the jovial sounds and lyrics in the hits “Summertime Clothes,” “Brother Sport,” or “Taste,” was definitely something to get pumped about, but I know there are probably a handful of Debbie Downers who will disagree with me. Perhaps it is subjective whether or not Animal Collective is a “dancey” or at least energy-inducing band. From my experience with music, and what I believe to be the purpose of live shows, I can say bands like Animal Collective are definitely worth emphatically (If not maniacally) moving around to. I believe that the Orlando show gave proof that too many people are on the fence about whether or not Animal Collective is a band worth ecstatic hype, or even a ticket to one of their live shows. I posed this theory and have done

some extremely reliable research–in the form of a survey as a Facebook status. Around 40% of my friends who are Animal Collective fans responded to my status that they’d never go to one of their shows and that they are “totally a studio band,” and 60% have been to or had had an amazing experience at one. Clearly, some folks would just rather stay in and listen to their headphones and others, like me, live for the band in action. Maybe I’ll never know why Animal Collective produced such a sour bunch of concertgoers in Orlando this July. I do understand, however, my need to put myself in the moment of live shows and experience all that is electrifying, visceral joy—be it from Animal Collective or any other band.

Issue 5, 5, July July 2011 2011 Issue

The TheYeti Yeti

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Tales from Tampa, FL We started receiving postcards to our home about a year ago. The return address line only read “Tales from Tampa, FL 33647” and each signed by a John Fisher with a simple drawing of a fish between his first and last name. Each postcard’s front was defaced in some manner, so our uneasiness was certainly not-without warrant; especially noting how strange they were. The “Tales” and vandalized artwork continued to become increasingly more and more disturbing as time went on. The postcards have since ceased and now there remains a collection of about at least sixty of these “Tales from Tampa, FL”.

2 “I had another sex dream about you last night,” my step-mother said when I sat down at the breakfast table. “Mmmmmm… Strawberry Pop-Tarts, my favorite.”, “That’s nice. “ I responded quietly as I played with my Cheerios like some evangelist plays with people’s minds. I imagined myself many years into the future, when Sherrie wouldn’t be allowed to “slick my slip n’ side”, as she constantly repeated, any longer. Sometimes I dreamt about her too, but it would never turn out like I expected. A recent night, in particular, I woke up to Sherrie asking me “Did you shit the bed again?” I had, but it was okay. I wasn’t afraid of her anymore. My surrogate mother, caregiver, and Angel of The Eternal Truth -- I replied to her with one, throbbing breath: “I think I smell blood.”

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1 Every day after school I walk directly to my parish so I can pray to the Lord. One particular afternoon Chester Dalton approached me when I was about half way there. He grabbed onto my shoulders and asked, “Where are you going, faggot?” I told him. He took his hands off my shoulders, wiped the sweat from his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed heavily and asked, “Can I go too?” With a big smile I exclaimed, “I would love it, Chester!” and he and I headed off. When we got there, it looked a little different. We weren’t at church at all! We were in an old cardboard box; a rat had been crucified with a stapler. “Worship him!” he screamed into my face.

There was I, just a boy, in front of my father’s throne, with a match to the carpet chasing a cockroach with the flame. I caught eyes with my father; he looked at me with approval... I could tell by the way he was wringing his hands. Neither of us spoke for a moment, we just sized each other up. “Son, I need to find me a woman!” he proclaimed. Shifting his eyes across the room, he checked every direction for someone who might hear. He eased in real close to me, and I could feel his humid breath, “Maybe I’ll find one without a head! Huh? You know what I mean?” I looked at my father’s eyes, deep red and the veins on his neck were bulging. “Now make yourself scarce, son. Daddy needs to prepare for his Muslim Brotherhood meeting!”

5 It was when I was seven, I remember, my parents gave me my first puppy. I loved that puppy, and we had many an adventure together; in the woods I would tell him things. All of my secrets, all the things I could never tell anyone else. Not even Jimmy Smitts, my best friend and closest lover. That puppy, if it could speak, could tell of all my sins. So it certainly crossed my mind to beat him to death with a branch in the woods. I was going to pick out a softer branch from the underbrush; something that wouldn’t crack too bad but would still put this fucker puppy in his place. But there just wasn’t enough time—the China buffet lunch special ends at five.

Issue 5, July 2011

The Yeti

ear, Ms. Reinhart I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for the loss of your cat, Mr. Fluffpaws. I ain’t got a lot to do in this holding cell and my lawyer told me it might impress the judge if I wrote you something saying I’m sorry, even though that ain’t why I’m in here. He says that it won’t help much to say sorry to the police for cussing at them and elbowing one of them. He says that would be expected and wouldn’t really count too much. He calls all that being tactful. Another reason I wouldn’t say I’m sorry to them goddamn policemen is that they called me a liar after they’d arrested me. You see, I wasn’t trying to hurt Mr. Fluffpaws when I was throwing them firecrackers all around. I was trying to hurt Robby Parkis, and when the police asked me why, I told them. He stole my mom. And that’s true, but they didn’t believe me so I say they’re a bunch of sons of bitches, and I ain’t sorry for anything. Not that you want to hear about any of that. The police and this judge are my problems and I’m not writing to you so you feel sorry for me because it wouldn’t be right, me killing your cat and all. Thing is, I know why the police thought I was kidding. I guess that’s the thing about us living in a town like this. There ain’t a lot of people so

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everyone seems to hear about everyone’s business, that’s why they looked at me like I’m some kind of loon, because everyone knows that my mom’s been dead these last six months, so it ain’t likely that Robby Parkis could have made off with her, not from my house anyway. But that’s what happened. That’s the truth. You probably remember Robby from that time he put a M-80 in your birdhouse. I know I’ve already said sorry for that. Still don’t think I should have, but my daddy told me that just being there made me guilty, so, you might remember that I did, even if you’re so old your memory’s going which is something else my daddy said. Anyway, I liked it when he wanted to play with me because he’s older and I ain’t got many friends to begin with. Him being twelve, a full two years older than I am, he can tell me and show me lots of things that I don’t reckon I should know, which makes me want to. Like, he showed me one time this magazine he stole from his daddy. I think his daddy’s some kind of doctor because the magazine had a bunch of pictures of lady parts that were taken real close, like inches away. And I don’t really know why Robby liked them but he told me if anybody knew about it we’d be in trouble, so I liked

looking at them too. And it was fun doing something with someone else, my daddy and me haven’t done much together since the funeral. The day we buried Mom and came home the house was all dark and quiet and it was like I could still feel her in it even though I knew she wasn’t. My dad just asked if I was alright and waited for me to nod. His face looked like he didn’t want nothing more from me. Since then, that’s pretty much how we’ve acted, he just sits in front of the TV when he ain’t working, brings home dinner in a box for the microwave, and asks me stuff, like how school is. There’s a lot of stuff that I do want to talk to him about, like Mom, but he never looks like he wants to hear it. He always looks like he’s upset, not sad or angry, just tired-like. A few weeks ago, he started coming home on Friday nights with beer. I never seen him drink one because he takes to going out to the shed in our back yard. The first time he went to the back door I was watching him. He stopped like he could feel me watching and turned around and said don’t come out here. If anything happens, or you need anything, use the house phone and call my cell. I nodded like I always do

and watched him go out, wondering if he was ashamed to be drinking in front of me. Yesterday I saw Robby Parkis for the first time in months. He said that he would have seen me sooner, but he’d heard about my Mom and thought that I’d still be sad. I remember smiling and saying nah about that, but just him saying it made me sad. He said he had a gift for me and pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket. There were like ten M-80s in it and a red cigarette lighter with the safety torn off. Robby calls that devirginizing it, but I never understood what that meant. We spent a few hours in my back yard getting some of my action figures and tying the firecrackers to them. I asked Robby if we could blow up some of his toys, but he said it would be better if we used mine. After we lit off about six of them, Robby said we should save the rest for tomorrow. He told me I’d have to hide them because we’d get in trouble if my daddy found out I had them. I told him I knew just where we could, and took him to the shed. Inside, there’s a lot of space other than our lawnmower and an old couch my daddy moved in to do his drinking on. But what I was looking for was our chest, a really big and long thing that could fit about two of me in it. I had Robby be lookout, in case my daddy might come home early or something. I remembered him telling me not to go in there. When I got on my knee and opened the chest, at first I didn’t really know what I was looking at, but after a while I realized it was a lady. I could see that she wasn’t a real lady. She was plastic and all blown up like a beach ball or something. But she was wearing one of my mom’s dresses, and on her face was a picture of my mom’s face stuck on with tape. I reached in and peeled one of the pieces off so I could look behind the picture. The lady underneath it looked like she was really surprised, scared even, like she’d just seen a ghost. I must have sat there staring for a while because Robby started asking what I was looking at. I put the picture back down and waited a bit longer, trying to figure that out for myself. Finally I knew, and so I told us both. It’s my mom, I said. That got him confused, so he came over and looked in. He was surprised too, but not like I was. His was more of a happy surprise. Hoowee, he said, that ain’t nobody’s mom. That made me kind of angry, so I stood up and closed the lid. It is my mom, I told him. He was smiling and putting up his hands like he wasn’t taking me seriously. Ok, ok, he said, and then he looked back down at the chest and started licking his lips, looking like he was thinking about something. After a while he looked

back at me and asked if he could borrow her. For what? I asked. I was getting real angry now. I don’t know, he said, just to borrow her for a bit. I just stared at him. You can keep the dress, he said, and the picture. I told him no, and that he could go to Hell, and then I pushed him. I already told you he was bigger than me, so you know this was a bad idea. I pushed him and he pushed me back twice as hard, making me fall over and skin my elbow on the floor. I just laid there hurting and holding my arm and cursing at him, and Robby was starting to look around like he was afraid someone would hear me. He was saying he was sorry and started backing away until he was out the door. I just laid there and cried, and cried, and then I got to thinking about everything, about my dad and how he never wants to see me, and my mom and how she can never see me again, and then I realized that I was crying about all that too. I sat back up and reopened the lid, and looked again at my mom. I managed to get up and reach in to pick her up underneath her arms and then pull her out of the chest. I set her down on the couch like she was sitting up, and then laid down across

her with my head on her lap and put her arm around me, like she used to do herself. For a while I was just laying there, but then I started talking and telling her how sad I was and how sad Dad is and how we don’t talk about anything. Then I cried for a really long time until I fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of my daddy’s truck door slamming shut and got scared. I knew he wouldn’t want me in here and finding my mom like this so I got up and put her back in the chest and then ran out of there. I got in through the back door at the same time he made it through the front. He asked me how I was and I said fine. I know I didn’t look fine, but rather scared and excited I’d bet. But I guess he wasn’t looking that close at me. Later that night, after he told me it was bed time and I went, I was lying there

Lit wanting to be back with my mom. Then I remembered that I still had them M-80s that Robby gave me and I was supposed to hide them. In about two minutes I was out in my back yard, in my PJ’s, walking out to our shed. I saw that the door was open and then got scared, because I thought I’d remembered closing it. Then I got another thought which made me run as fast I could into the shed. The moon was full coming through the window, so I could see the chest when I got to it, and when I opened it, my mom was gone. I ran back outside and started looking around, looking for Robby Parkis. And then, as if I willed him to, I saw him dash out of a bush with my mom bouncing under his arm. I ran after him, cussing, and when he tossed my mom over our fence and jumped up to climb over, I lit a firecracker and threw it at him. It went right by his head and I heard it pop on the other side right before he jumped over. I knew I couldn’t climb it, so I had to run around, and when I got to the other side I could see him running off with her down the street. I started chasing after, but I tripped on something. That, I’m sorry to say, was Mr. Fluffpaws, all wounded and bleeding and not moving or anything. Right next to him was the hole where the M-80 went off, and staring at it, I knew what I’d done. I didn’t even cry this time. Instead I just hollered and got up and started running after Robby Parkis again. I didn’t end up seeing him because a car with bright headlights turned the corner and got in my way. I tried running around but the doors opened and the cops grabbed me and asked me what I was running for. I was now bawling and whaling and trying to get past them, not giving a damn about their questions, but they wouldn’t let go so I elbowed one of them. This just made them angry and so they pushed me against the car and then into the back seat while that goddamned Robby Parkis went away free. So that’s why I accidentally killed your cat, and I’m sorry about it. Even though it wasn’t on purpose, and Mr. Fluffpaws was one of about ten of them, I know you probably loved him, and miss him. I know what it’s like to have the people you love taken from you, and you and me are maybe the only two people in this whole town who know how much it hurts, even if they’re not real, or cats.

Sincerely, *******

Issue 5, July 2011

Lit

The Yeti

Digging Holes By Christopher Cartright

Northern California, July, 2011 Dan lives with Jan in a long, low house. A pool, a deck with new, comfy patio furniture, a garden— eight plants in mesh cases—a fence, two huge Danes. They grow marijuana for a living and everything indicates that the living is good. Only a few years older than us, they are married, they have a new daughter, and their work keeps them financially secure in the current recession. My roommate and I are on a road trip across the country, trying desperately to get inspired to write our respective theses and figure out where the hell we’re going to work. Dan’s an old friend of his who agreed to give us work on his small farm. The first night, dinner on the deck: pasta, chicken, a wonderful burst of salad. Smoke. Dan explains the conundrum the industry faces: “Under federal law, even one plant, one bud, one seed is illegal. They’ll put you in jail, for any amount for a minimum of five years, federally. They see no benefit to it whatsoever.” But, in the state of California, things are a bit different. According to state law, any individual with an easily obtainable recommendation from a doctor can grow up to ninety-nine plants. In neighboring counties, the Sheriff’s office even sells tags for individual plants. The next morning, we head up to the property that Dan rents to grow the rest of his plants. On the drive down the interstate and up the dirt road to his gate, Dan jokes about finding Jerry, the forty-something surfer who watches the plants eight months a year, dead, and all of his plants stolen. But the real threat, apart from local thieves and Mexican gangs, is still the federal government. “It’s totally legal. In the state and the county,” Dan explains. “But the feds can come at any time.” The field at the top of the hill is large and warm at one o’clock when we approach with shovels, an ax, and a steel spike. Jerry lights up when he sees us. He has a lonely job. Dan and Jerry point out where we should dig and we go to work with the vigor of idiots. It’s one o’clock and the sun is murder. At the end of the first hole, sweating, delirious, Dan admonishes us to slow down. By three we’ve found our pace. We try to find shade near the

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Kenn Schultz

enormous marijuana plants. We rest and drink as much water as we can. The budding blisters on our palms belie our real profession as students. At eight, Dan comes back to pick us up with hot pizza and cold beer. Back at Dan’s, we smoke Marlboro’s, drink Maker’s Mark, and discuss the avenues this fragile but growing industry affords. “I don’t understand why you guys don’t just come out and make money now.” Dan is tall, lean, and convincing. Jan is kind, and her baby is beautiful. The dogs are well-behaved. They really seem to have it going for them. We come up with reasons why we can’t put graduate school on hold and come out for work in fall, but they all sound flat, especially after we tell Dan about what we’ve seen on the trip so far. From Atlanta, things look okay. Our friend there doesn’t hate his job, but it doesn’t give him much time for much else. In Ringold, Tennessee, we survey the recent tornado damage. In Chattanooga, we hit the Riverbend Festival with some kids our age or a few years older who tell us how lucky they are to have the work they do, and how difficult it was to get it. At eleven, five minutes of fireworks rock the sky: light first, then the sound of human thunder as a cloud of smoke, longer than the bridge that crosses the Tennessee River, billows out and reflects the city lights back down on us. In Memphis, we drink in an empty city: urban flight. In most of the river cities of the Southeast, the weather’s ruining land, taking homes. The economy’s doing worse. In Chicago, our couch-surfing host seems content with his work, and its security. He sells European tours for a foreign company. “In trimming season, that’s two-hundred bucks a

pound, easy work. And if you stay and watch a crop, that’s thirty percent of the weight, and the farmer puts up all the cost. Did you guys know this was happening out here?” I didn’t, but another day of digging puts things into strange perspective. I couldn’t really come out here, I know. Despite the financial opportunity the marijuana industry provides, totally legal work has its benefits, too. But the fact that, six years into higher education, I’m digging holes to help finance the rest of the trip indicates the lack of demand, and pay, for my labor. I think of my sisters, my cousins, my friends, and where they work. No one’s had it easy. Even Dan has a degree in aerospace engineering. And—tricky weather—the beautiful sky and blistering California heat, the fresh air, dirt, water, and manual labor exhilarate my senses more than working at a desk ever could. This work seems more honest, though I don’t let myself wax too romantic when I think of the feds. But it does feel nice to break a sweat. And I’m proud of the deep, red holes in the earth that will nourish beautiful plants and will feed them until harvest. Our last night at Dan and Jan’s is a blast, too. We get Jack in the Box; we get paid. It’s wonderful to meet a happy couple of young, educated, working Americans who are doing well in this economic climate. If job prospects are as bad as they look on CNN, young graduates will have to look in unconventional places for work. I’ve started picking up graphic and web design, even though most writers teach college classes to survive. My roommate constantly jokes that his degrees in geography only serve to prepare him for 2012. Maybe Dan’s offer isn’t so bad after all.

Expostfacto Wall Exposure by Thomas Nudi

Miserable, spoke to ‘er feet neatly nestled in the sand making doodles with my toes and that grinning fish burrowed near. I reached to it: get out of here we both said, on time and politely. I shudder when nature hints to me. Troubled, dwelling with this beach wrought with uneasiness and so unsure. I make out half a Libertas permitting on the horizon. Write it out in the sand: cease, clear before the wind reaches us, no one likes to be reminded of the contrary. I’ll make you, alright? Shouting now. Let’s keep up here a secret. Don’t let the rest know, we move onward. Dismiss this doom the waves shake at us.

in re verse

By Paul Vinhage

therefore the blankpage best suits the beggarly, who with parched lips would speak of water, and claim fluency with a mute tongue, while words unspoken betoken nascent vagiti begot from leafy vagaries. but if your slate, already filled with prior scratches, should prove too rough for new ink then trace along and call each stamp anew: (re)turned. an you could fain play suzerain to a vassal thrice a'mighty, then you would master servitude under sagging Aphrodite.

[that long gone seaspawned paramour passion-shunted mean-cunted whore] then noman would turn god and a priest into a bawd, an you could joking laud and make a shake out of a nod.

Issue 5, July 2011

S.B.E.

Arts Life The&Yeti

& Their Hip Hop Family: Redefining Definitions By Thomas Nudi

I had contacted Tallahassee hip hop duo S.B.E. about writing an article for a personal blog of mine about a CD called The Sampler I had found at an FSU dormitory in 2007. What was intended to be a short interview regarding the EP in question quickly became a 7-hour immersion into the world of the two emcees behind S.B.E., Gainstaville and Killa Cali. When I arrived that Saturday evening at S.B.E.’s home studio, expectations were nonexistent. I had only been acquainted with the artists through a handful of brief e-mails backand-forth and two even shorter telephone calls to set a time for the interview and get directions to the studio. All I had was their music and their respective names. Upon knocking on the door I heard a muffled, “Who is it?” from the other side. “It’s Thomas Nudi… from The Yeti.” I replied. The door immediately unlocked and swung open. “Hey man, how you doin’?” a considerably larger and raspy-voiced, bearded man stood in front of me. He reached out his right hand and greeted me, with the smoking roach of a blunt in the opposite. A smile was stretched across his face and we both laughed. As I came in, he instinctively walked to the hall closet, pulling out a handful of items. “Here you go, man. I told you you’d end up with a bunch of stuff!” He handed me two CDs and a 3XL S.B.E. t-shirt, one of the CDs, Smokin Blunts Effectively 2: Still Smokin’ was released April 20th this year, the continuation of a tradition started on April 20th, 2010 to show their devotion to, easily, one of their favorite pastimes. “I got more for you too, it’s been awhile, you gotta a lot of catching up to do.” He directed me to a couch located across from the recording booth. “Gainstaville is currently en route. He should be here any minute.” Killa Cali sat down in his desk chair, turned up the volume on his soundboard and hit play. “I just finished this up this morning.” It was a pumping beat accompanied by a verse he had written and recorded hours before my arrival. A knock came at the door, it was Gain-

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staville. He walked in and had a button up shirt on and with a big smile, reached his hand out to me and in one of the deepest voices I’ve ever heard said, “How’re you doing, man? It’s great to meet you!” “Nigga tryin’ to be all professional, there’s smoke up in here.” K.C. shouted with a laugh. Gainstaville laughed, “Man, I didn’t know. I had no idea. I’ll be right back.” He returned and as the smoke built up, the music became louder and the laughter more frequent. S.B.E. came to fruition in 2004 when Killa Cali met Gainstaville in FSU’s Black Actors’ Guild. “We hit it off, man, and one day I got a ride from him and when I got in his car I saw these CDs from Tupac, Killa Mike and Project Pat. I was like, ‘shit, we like the same shit’ and when we put it on both of us knew all the words! That’s how it all started.” He stopped the track. “Between me and Gainstaville there’s not much of a difference, except for maybe… 5 things.” Killa Cali stated. Gainstaville nodded and they both looked at each other for a brief moment and simultaneously broke down into laughter–infectious laughter. This happened continuously throughout the night. It was hard to catch them without a smile on their faces. “How many songs have you guys made so far?” I asked. “Shit. This year? Probably around 100. Definitely more.” Gainstaville replied. “I’d say we’ve recorded about 400 since we started all this.” “We’re always working. When we’re not at our 9 to 5 jobs, we’re in the studio making music.” S.B.E. not only smoke blunts effectively (and I can assure you of that) but are as prolific as Tupac or Ryan Adams. Only seven months into 2011, they’ve composed and released three albums: the aforementioned sequel to Smokin Blunts Effectively, Capital City Classic and Sharing Bedroom Energy. As well they are working on at least two more projects as S.B.E. and a solo album each. “We like to do different projects with different themes. As an artist it allows you to be really creative.” Shortly into playing another new track

they’ve been working on, a knock came at the door; another local hip hop artist arrived. He sat down and joined us. “This is Ro-Thoro,” he said to me, “he’s on this track right now too. We met at Episodes, I heard his freestyle and I was like: I gotta work with him!” “Yeah, man. That’s how the community works.” Killa Cali said, “We heard Thoro freestyle and we started working together, we got producers all around Tallahassee and the nation making beats for us.” “The internet is a beautiful thing.” Gainstaville said with a smile. “We love to work with the community, wide and local. There’s strength in numbers. And we try to make our producers happy.” K.C. added, “We do our best. We realize we’re not alone in it.” We all packed up and headed to room 420 of Diffenbaugh at FSU, the home of V89 where Killa Cali and Gainstaville were planned guests on Undaground Railroad, the longest running hip hop program on radio. As we walked down the halls of the station, Killa Cali pointed to a flyer for the release of their last album among the thousands of other posters littered across the walls. S.B.E. was welcomed like family. J. See and DJ A to the L, the hosts of Undaground Railroad, were in the booth with other V89 family, Talia and Flying J. As soon as we all walked in, J. See prepared to get on the mic as the song came to an end. “We’ve got S.B.E. in the studio today.” He began, bringing them to the mic to make some shout outs and announcements and quickly had them step-up to “the gauntlet.” K.C. and Gainstaville freestyled for five minutes, their time ran out and we stayed in the studio until the end of the show, just hanging out in the booth. I took a few photos and everyone lingered in the hallway outside talking. It was Talia’s last day at the radio station after several years and everyone was wishing her goodbyes as she reciprocated with hugs and tears.

“This was the first spot to show love. These are people who care here, about the music and the community.” Killa Cali said. We arrived back at the studio and I was told J. See would be joining us shortly to lay down a verse on a new track they were working on together. We got back and almost immediately Gainstaville and Thoro began to roll some fresh blunts. I asked, “Do you guys ever fear being thought of as ‘those marijuana rappers’?” “We’re not weed rappers. We just happen to be smokin’ weed when we’re making music. We do a lot of songs about smoking too, but for as many of those there are we have everything else….” Killa Cali said. Gainstaville added, “We fuckin’ smoke and get shit done. We smoke in the studio and make music. I go from one session to the next and I see kids pass out, and while they’re passed out I’m getting back in the studio to record; always staying productive.” Beyond their prolificacy their name itself is a representation of staying away from any kind of stereotype. The idea behind S.B.E. is that it represents whatever you want it to. “Smoking Blunts Effectively… Seeing Beauty Everywhere… Stackin’ Bread Everyday… Sharing Black Energy. [The name] S.B.E. kept the doors open for us.” “In the beginning our broadness was kind of a downfall. People didn’t know what to think about us. But the way we saw it was that people tie the artists too close to the music. We just wanted to be natural and do our thing, at this point it’s working for us. People see that we are genuine and true to ourselves.” J. See arrived at the studio and as soon as he walked in, everyone got to work. Gainstaville began writing up a verse for their upcoming song “Batmobile” while K.C. played an entirely different beat for J. See to prepare a verse for.

“Gainstaville doesn’t need a beat. He just goes.” The artists stripped away the glitz and glamour of hip hop by letting me see their processes first hand. J. See wrote his verse in under an hour and practiced it in front of his camera phone. He watched his mouth move to make sure everything came out exactly how he wanted it and used his entire body to keep the beat. Gainstaville dwelled over his notebook making sure that his verse was tight; bobbing his head, he somehow ignored the beat for a different song pumping out of the monitors. Killa Cali sat on the computer mixing new tracks, recording and producing J. See’s verse. During J. See’s recording, consisting of many takes of the same verse, Gainstaville and Ro-Thoro headed out – it was nearing midnight. After they left I stuck around until J. See finished his verse. Killa Cali rolled up a final blunt for the night, lit it up and continued to record J. See. Muffled from J’s vocals, Killa Cali tried to tell me something, which I think I made out correctly as, “I couldn’t be happier…. I sit down here, play music, make it…. I’ve been up since eight doin’ music…. It’s beautiful, man. I love my life.”

Issue 5, July 2011

The Yeti

Internet Killed Culture: Lowering the Brow with CharlesTrippy By Kylyn Swann

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The internet has been, for years now, at the top of the media food chain and has mauled and devoured video. With each step in the evolution of entertainment media comes a batch of fresh, talented and innovative faces. On the other hand, advances in technological accessibility have made it easy for the mediocre, and worse, to gain attention on the internet—think Jeffree Star of MySpace fame and Rebecca Black, famous for the music video of her song “Friday.” Charles Trippy and Alli Speed are no strangers to the internet-fame rat race. Their so-called “homemade reality show,” Internet Killed Television, was launched by the couple in May of 2009 and began as a daily yearlong project documenting their relationship, but is now in its fourth season. Regardless of whether you consider yourself a part of “CTFxC” (Charles Trippy Family x Core) or are a Charles Trippy “hater,” the couple has clearly achieved success in the internet world. With nearly half a million subscribers and an average 150,000 viewers per episode, it is undeniable that the two must be doing something right. But what? While the series is a departure from the notoriously unrealistic nature of reality shows, it still relies on a generally predictable format. Because the series is filmed daily, mundanity is an inevitability and is combated with gimmicks like pranks on Alli, puns and internet memes. “Groundbreaking” events, for example Charles’ marriage proposal to Alli in Spain and Alli’s college graduation, are rare. Often, when the couple itself falls short of interesting anecdotes or antics, Charles or Alli will turn the camera to their dogs, Zoey and Marley, to entertain viewers. Perpetual embarrassment is avoided only by the couple’s combined stellar charisma, which at times is not even enough to gloss over visible awkwardness, such as Charles’ singing in the car, which causes Alli to exhibit an uncomfortable look and say, “I’m embarrassed for you.” Internet Killed Television is somewhat of a ménage-a-trois between Charles, Alli and their camera. The two aim to create an interactive experience for their CTFxC fans by asking them questions both directly (think Dora the Explorer) and with Pop Up Video-style annotations. This interactivity breeds an environment that benefits both the fans and the duo; as the audience

becomes more familiar with and feels more included in the lives of Charles and Alli, they begin to send the couple gifts in an attempt to establish a more “genuine,” and less voyeuristic, bond. Neither Charles nor Alli make any meaningful social commentary and apart from viewergrabbing gimmicks, don’t seem to even touch on, well… anything profound at all. However, the couple undeniably knows how to generate views and attention for their videos. The two commonly use video titles that are likely to appear intriguing or are likely to be searched (i.e., “HOW TO GET A HOT GIRL!”, “SEXY BODY MOVIN!” , etc.) and feature a pop-up annotation that asks for a “thumbs up” at the beginning of each video. They bleed internet culture, true blue web enthusiasts through and through, and seem to establish a level of intimacy and understanding among the show’s Gen-Y audience. This is especially evident when they submit their viewers to watching them do their laundry, make their bed or even package and ship the swag they sell for their own channel. Internet Killed Television is seemingly more of an outlet to popularize the enthusiastic and loveably oafish Charles Trippy by his own hand. Exploiting his skinny and attractive girlfriend, coinciding with the tantalizing and all-caps titles to pull in much of the male interest, as well as his penchant for trivial userinteractivity and pleas for high ratings, Charles Trippy has created his own popularity empire on YouTube paralleling any kind of viral advertising one could think of. The show is much more of a commercial for their lives, those of rich white people, than anything else. Though its characters may be vapid, the show’s growth in popularity was undeniably rapid. With now over two years, four seasons and 800 episodes under their belts, Charles and Alli really have not yet experienced the sharp decline in popularity seen amongst the stars of any given sect of entertainment media. Perhaps their fifteen minutes can hold out a little bit longer, especially if the two shift the show toward something reminiscent of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey’s Newlyweds after their wedding. For now, we will just have to wait to see if the show’s staying power will last, evolve, or crash and burn.

Arts & Life

Yeti Gourmet Bread Salad By Amber Pepe I have to admit that when I first heard of panzanella, an Italian salad composed of tomatoes and stale bread, it didn’t exactly sound appetizing to me. But then I started baking bread at home and found myself struggling to find ways to use up uneaten leftovers–the hard, dried-up hunks of my once crusty and beautiful loaves were just being tossed in the trash. Never one to let food go to waste, I couldn’t bring myself to let this keep happening, and so instead I came up with a way to use the old bread. Though this recipe was inspired by panzanella, I’m fairly certain it’s a far cry from the real thing. What it lacks in authenticity, though, it totally makes up for in deliciousness and simplicity. Bread Salad Serves 4 Salad 12 ounces crusty bread 1 tbsp. olive oil, plus more for greasing ¼ tsp. dried thyme ¼ tsp. kosher salt ¼ tsp. black pepper ½ cup sun dried tomatoes (well drained) ¼ cup fresh basil, torn

Dressing 1 small clove of garlic ¼ tsp. kosher salt ¼ tsp. black pepper ½ tsp. dried thyme 1 tsp. Dijon mustard 1 tsp. sugar (brown or white) ¼ cup balsamic vinegar ½ cup olive oil

Start by preheating the oven to 300° and lightly greasing a cookie sheet with olive oil. Cut or tear the bread into roughly 1-inch cubes and place it in a large bowl. Sprinkle the olive oil, salt, pepper, and thyme over the bread, and toss well to coat (I find it the easiest to do this with my hands). Spread the bread cubes onto the greased cookie sheet and bake until they are crispy, but not completely hardened–we’re not going for croutons here. Depending on the age of your bread, this may take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool to room temperature. Meanwhile, prepare the dressing. Finely chop the clove of garlic, and then sprinkle it with the salt. Mash the garlic and salt into a paste, using the broad side of your knife to grind them against your cutting board. In a small bowl, combine the garlic/salt paste, pepper, thyme, mustard, sugar, and vinegar, mixing well to dissolve the sugar and the mustard. While constantly whisking, slowly dribble the olive oil into the vinegar mixture. It is important not to add the oil too quickly or you’ll end up with a layer of oil floating atop a layer of vinegar rather than a smooth combination of the two. In a large bowl, combine the toasted bread cubes, sun dried tomatoes, and torn basil. Slowly pour the dressing over the bread (you’re not going to use it all) and toss well. You want to add enough dressing that the bread absorbs some of it, but doesn’t go totally soggy on you. The resulting salad will be pleasantly chewy and delicious. This recipe is great exactly as written, but can be made even better with some extra goodies tossed into the mix. In the spirit of not letting food go to waste, I often throw in whatever odds and ends are floating around in the fridge. Good ideas for additions include olives, fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, mozzarella or feta cheese, other chopped herbs . . . you get the idea. Enjoy!

Issue 5, July 2011