October 2020 by The Boomerang

The

Boomerang Boo October 2020

Why a Texan and a Californian would Never be Friends by Sam Kalmbacher

Illustration © Tara Sitindjak

With election season in full swing I thought it might be relevant to address a misconception some people may have about the United States: That it is sometimes seen as a cohesive unit and somewhat homogeneous. States have very diverse cultures, each with their own identities and norms, which I will elaborate on by using some of the more well known states as examples.

1965. On a state level, there are internal rivalries between the northern and southern parts of the state. On a national level, California shares a rivalry with Texas, which makes sense seeing that they are pretty much the antithesis of the other. These two states are essentially the Number 1 and Number 2 states in America, competitively being the two most successful states economically and population-wise. But what about some of the lesser known states? For instance, Pennsylvania is incredibly unique but it

In essence, America is a federation of 50 states with a powerful central government. However, individual states can have strong central governments as well. Texas, for example, has been afforded specific special rights. This is because for a decade in the 1830-40’s, Texas was an independent country. It controls its own energy grid separate from the federal government. Additionally, the traditional culture in Texas is still prominent (yes, people actually still wear cowboy hats and boots as casual wear), and is exported internationally. The state actually sees itself as its own cultural group. Although many would be quick to say Texas is a southern state, Texas is actually a Texan state which happens to be mostly conservative and in the South.

doesn’t get a lot of attention. It is one of the oldest states in the U.S., and has kept much of its traditional folk culture in rural areas, which are famously known as Amish or Mennonite people. Art lovers can find enjoyment in Pennsylvania at the nation’s best art museums in Philadelphia. History fanatics can appreciate being in the same city where the Continental Congress met during the American revolution. Pennsylvania also has some of the most intense (American) football fans in the U.S. Louisiana is another interesting and very unique state with its own cultural roots. It integrates French and Spanish culture intensely, and has its own cuisine called ‘cajun’ food which consists of seafood and alligator. Louisiana also has an interesting legal system, which is the exact same model as most of Europe (Civil Law) and is the only state in the country to implement this. Florida is special. I only partially mean this because of the Florida man memes, but to the rest of the country, it is truly an anomaly. Florida culture is extremely laid back, with emphasis on enjoying the Florida sun (aptly being named the Sunshine State). It’s a joke in the U.S. to comment on people’s ‘Florida tan’ after returning from vacation from Florida because of its amazing beaches. Florida also has an internal cultural distinction between Miami and… the rest of the state. I could go on and on about all the unique cultures in America, but I hope to have at least provided some insight into how some of the states see themselves and just how diverse America can be.

California on the other hand is the richest and most populous state, boasting the most powerful economy and technology industry in the States. This state is known for a variety of things: the accent, the countries’ best universities, the best surfing spots and beach culture, and of course, the most famous film industry in the world. California is also a very environmentally conscious state, being the first to regulate vehicle exhaust rates in

Why the Electoral College Matters

Bar Brawl: To Zoop or Not T0 Zoop?

No Love for a Nation

Ricky & Mill's Culture Fill

The Bad Presentation Epidemic

Nighttime Biking in Utrecht

6-7 9 10

The Boomerang | October 2020

WORLD

Why the Electoral College Matters by Sam Wolters

With the American presidential elections happening once again, the debate about whether or not to use the Electoral College has once again started. The Electoral College decides how America elects its president, not a popular vote. It is a system by which, instead of electing the president directly, you vote for an elector from your state, who then promises to vote for one of the presidential candidates. States are given electors based on the amount of senators and representatives they have. Currently this means that there are 538 electors in total. This system is extremely undemocratic because of how Senate seats are allocated: each state gets two senators, meaning California, with a population of 36,756,66 (as of 2008) has the same number of senators as Wyoming, which had a population 532,020. When putting this in the context of the Electoral College, this means that Wyoming, which has 3 electoral votes, has 1 vote per 177,556 people. California, the most populous state, has one elector per 668,303 people. Therefore, votes in Wyoming count 3.76 times as much as votes from California. Obviously, this seems extremely undemocratic, as states where no one lives count more than populated states. This system is what allows candidates, such as George Bush and Donald Trump to become president without winning the popular vote.

people there hate him, and Biden ignores Wyoming for the same reason. While this means that 41 states do not need to be campaigned in, the system makes sense because swing states moderate presidential candidates views. The voters there tend to be moderate; the importance of these states in the Electoral College encourages candidates to moderate their views during the election for fear of being seen as too radical.

This therefore forces some political compromise between more and less populous states, giving everyone candidates that don’t offend one side too much. While this obviously hasn’t produced that outcome in the past few elections, the idea of more moderate presidents makes them more representative to all the states somewhat justifies the undemocratic nature of the Electoral College.

“Thus, the only states that presidential candidates care about are swing states, states which might change their votes from one election to another” While this seems stupid, it makes some sense when you consider the fact that America is essentially 50 different countries mashed into one. Politically, American states are extremely different; California and Wyoming provide a good example. Wyoming’s junior senator, John Barassos, doesn’t believe in climate change, opposes abortion, and voted against Trump’s impeachment. California’s junior senator, Kamala Harris, is the current Vice Presidential Candidate for the Democratic Party. Wyoming is guaranteed to vote Republican, while California hasn’t supported a Republican candidate in a presidential election since 1988. It seems unfair that Wyoming would get more important votes than California, but in reality most states fall into the Wyoming category. This means presidential candidates wouldn’t need to give a care what anyone there thought. The most populous states, with the exception of Texas, tend to be much more left wing, while the reverse is true for underpopulated states. Thus, the only states that presidential candidates care about are swing states, states which might change their votes from one election to another. Presidential candidates basically just campaign in nine states, because they’re the only ones who can be swayed one way or the other. Trump doesn’t bother to campaign in California because

Illustration © Julia Zonneveld

Dearest Campus, With the news changing so fast, here at the Boomerang we’re starting to feel the limits of only being a monthly publication. When I first sat down to write this editorial, we’d just been informed we were briefly moving online for classes. However, as I write this now, it seems we will be returning to the classroom, rather than our home offices (by which I mean our beds) for the coming weeks. Good news is good news, and it’s nice to hear. But let’s face it, the pandemic’s old news. The hot new story on everyone’s lips is surely the fact that the Boomerang has new columnists, and, as requested, our Agony Aunt has returned! Don’t ask who it is, even I’m not privy to that information. Some say it’s Diederix, others say James Kennedy himself, but there’s no way to know for sure. All we know is that every month, a mysterious brown envelope containing top-notch advice is slipped under the Boomerang office door. Also isn’t there an election happening or something? In the US? Possibly, and I think you can read some of our writer’s takes in this edition, as well as some covid winter coping strategies, how the bad presentation epidemic has hit our campus, and a discussion on what a zoöp is and if we should be one. To conclude this editorial, I hope that this edition of the Boomerang found you well in these strange and uncertain times and that you’re not reading scraps of this in a 2045 desert wasteland after witnessing the decline of human society as we know it. Yours always, Stanley Ward, Editor-in-Chief

A University College Student Association Magazine

No Love for a Nation It is Thanksgiving day in the United States of America. My family sits down to a meal of baked salmon and cabbage salad. We chat by candlelight passing through topics: the food, our egotistical positions in life, past holiday memories. But first we express our gratitude for the stolen land that we occupy: Walla Walla (Waluulapam), Cayuse (Weyiiletpu), and Umatilla (Imatalamlama). We renew our resolve to make the land pledge whenever we can. While the essence of Thanksgiving (celebrating tolerance, family, and a fall “harvest”) is well-meaning, the form that Thanksgiving actually takes would incite a feeling of toxic pride, palpable and thick around me. Thanksgiving comes with its own candy, its own paper plates, and its own massive media presence. Grocery stores begin prepping the public for the holiday the second that Halloween is over. Stores transform; soda sprung on shelves in new pallets of oranges and reds and browns, signs hung to remind shoppers to eat the most and buy the most. “Black Friday”, the day after Thanksgiving, is the busiest shopping day of the year in the United States. There are always stories about the needless injuries on that day: a woman who was trampled to death as Target opened, a child that was permanently paralyzed while fighting a grown man for the new Nintendo Switch. All of this the day after a national holiday that hides behind a facade of “expressing gratitude”, assumedly for the things that you already have.

WORLD by Elizabeth Moore

As I got older, I began to remain seated, focusing intensely on my planner during the daily “pledge of allegiance” in class (where we stand up and recite loyalty to the flag). When teachers would inquire about my motives for sitting, a multitude of reasons would bubble to mind. Being asked to, out of principle, recite loyalty to my nation every single day just felt wrong, and somewhat desperate. As if brainwashing children for twelve years is the means necessary to maintain a united, tyranized-bythe-British-that-we-ditched, “underdog spirit” of American nationalism. If you cannot tell from both my presence at an international school and that impassioned rant, I will just say: I have never identified with my American identity very much. Me? Proud of our history? It’s mostly terrifying. Our culture? Still baby, and mostly borrowed. It's not that I think of the entire American public as nothing but brainwashed consumers. But while living there, I did feel distinctly uncharmed by so many injustices covered by so much nationalism. And now? I have arrived at UCU and my paradigm has shifted. “I’m Eliza. From the U.S.” Overnight my country became my first identifier, the most comfortable category into which I place myself. Everything I do feels blatantly American, from my complete confusion when it comes to EU politics to my butchered pronunciation of words like “Wageningen”.

The Phases of a Quarantine by Justus Boesschen Hospers When deciding what I should write about for this month’s Boomerang, I was faced with a hard truth: I have barely done anything in the past few weeks. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had to spend some 20 days in quarantine. You read that right; me and my unitmates were blessed with not one, but two periods of self-quarantine. Only five (!) days after we escaped our first one, we had to go and lock ourselves back up. Luckily, we didn’t get sick. As I’m now a bit of a expert on the topic, I wanted to warn you all about the phases of a quarantine: Phase 1: Innocent optimism After the awkward unit meeting in which someone had to confess that everyone had to go in quarantine because of their actions, there was of course a bit of disappointment. However, we soon accepted our fate and, good-spirited as we still were, started to make plans to make the best of the coming ten days. Maybe this would finally be the time to actually have a unit dinner which everyone could actually attend. We made extensive plans for communal workouts, study sessions, and large dinner parties. The pinnacle of our optimism was the creation of a cleaning schedule, something we had not yet managed to do in our 6 weeks of living together. Personally, I thought this would be the perfect time to improve my lifestyle. Innocently, I imagined

quarantine would be an oasis of 8-hour nights of sleep, me actually doing my readings, and salads for dinner. Phase 2: Denial Already on our first night, all of those plans failed. Instead of eating one of the aforementioned salads, we decided to order Chris and open a bottle of vodka. The only thing we actually managed to achieve was our communal work-out: drunkenly, we all decided it was a great idea to learn the choreography of the WAP-dance. The next few days, we continued partying to escape the reality of being locked up. Unwilling to accept that we were missing out on social life outside of our unit, we decided to make our nightlife as exciting as possible. As we did not have to attend classes in person, it didn’t matter if we woke up hungover every day. Except for that one class in which a teacher showed my webcam feed on the digiboard for the whole class to see, no one really minded what I looked like. Phase 3: Frustration After a few days, however, the deadlines started creeping up. Realising I had only 24 hours left to write a 3000 words paper, I had a non-quarantined friend fetch me a Red Bull from the Voltaire vending machine and birthed an essay that did absolutely nothing other than

Here I am, delusionally having spent my life thinking that my country did not significantly influence me, having always felt the least “American” in any given room. Now I assume my nationality in a heartbeat after my name. It’s not that an unconditional love for my country was borne overnight, far from it. But I do openly and happily categorize myself. I hungrily listen to National Public Radio and read the New Yorker (four times a month until my free page visits run out, that is). This media makes me feel relieved, tied down by something. It creates in me a sense of inclusion by investment. Seeing news from afar makes my resentment melt into something resembling solidarity. From conversations that I have had heretofore with other internationals, a minor nationalism-based identity crisis is not unusual. Watching something unimportant to your identity, maybe even something that you hoped to escape, suddenly become the goggles through which you understand anything and everything, is extremely off-putting. The role of national identity in everyday life at an international school is something unique and sensitive. I look forward to continuing to learn, write, and have conversations about it.

hitting the word count. As the time of partying was over, reality started to hit me and my unitmates: we would be stuck inside for a few more days, while all of campus was out and about. From my room, I could literally look into the classroom which I was also seeing through my webcam. I especially enjoyed having group discussions with myself, while seeing everyone else talking. In a moment of quarantine-driven insanity, me and my unitmates made a huge map of all covid-cases on campus in an attempt to identify their source. Plenty of plans were made to take revenge on patient zero, but one thing stood in the way – we were not allowed to leave our unit. Phase 4: Acceptance Realising we could change nothing about our situation, the last few days were quite uneventful. I personally stayed in bed until 1pm every day, would spend a few hours doing anything but studying on my laptop, and capped of the day with a few glasses of wine. There were no salads to be seen and not a single task on the cleaning schedule had been executed. Our friends had gotten used to our daily requests to buy us food and, most importantly, booze. The most exciting part of the day was meeting the, hopefully attractive, thuisbezorgd guy. It wasn’t great, but the only thing that got us through it was the idea that we could go out and attend events and classes after a few days. Then, disaster struck and it was announced that all UCSA events were cancelled, the horeca would close, and all classes would move online. Now, all of life feels like a quarantine. Luckily, we are more than used to it by now.

The Boomerang | October 2020

BUBBLE

Agony Aunt

"Dear Agony Aunt, my housemate keeps showering with his girlfriend in the shower that we share. I can hear them laugh and joke around and when they push each other in the shower (against the wall) I can hear it against my wall. What do I say or do?" Dear Anon, There are three possible solutions that you can try, depending on what type of person you are and how close you are to your unit mate. 1. Just go up to them and tell them politely that you can hear what happens in the shower very well. Yes, it will be uncomfortable and awkward, but in the end, your honesty would have done a favor to the couple’s privacy. If saying it directly to their face feels too confrontational, you could also try putting a small note on the shower door! 2. You can be more subtle, by bringing it up during a unit dinner. Trust me, this works every time. Depending on the unit you live in, more people might live close to the shower. You can ask them to comment on it, and all you need to do is confirm that it is the same for you. Or you can propose to do the annual ‘how well can we hear everything from each other’s rooms’ check-up and emphasize that, in the showers, you really hear everything. I’m sure they will get the hint ;) 3. This last option is not the most optimal solution and I really hope the other two will work for you! but in case you really don’t feel comfortable confronting them, you can try the ‘avoidance’ technique: blast music, study elsewhere, go for a walk, meet with a friend (socially distant of course!), or just use this time to go have a snack or prepare your dinner depending on the time. Or, you know, just casually slide them this edition of the Boomerang and tell them they really need to read this month’s Agony Aunt column. It’s really good! "Dear Agony Aunt, I don’t know how to make people understand that they need to follow regulations. Not wearing a mask to class put in jeopardy the already small possibility of me being able to see my family. I feel so helpless." Dear Anon, I understand your frustration, and I wish I could give you the solution on how to change everyone’s minds about this topic, but the truth is that you can’t do that all at once. Unfortunately, some people will only understand this when it comes close to them -- or maybe not at all. This, however, does not mean that you can’t make a change little by little! You can start by telling your close friends why this is something of particular importance to you. If they wear the mask and keep distances only around you, it already makes a difference. Just know there are other people that also feel uncertainty about this, especially because the Dutch government until now has been very lenient with this. Some of these students might not wear a mask because of this exact reason. Know that by wearing a mask yourself, you’re already making so many people think about their safety precautions, and could even inspire them to also wear one . Also, it never hurts to talk to people about it by keeping the conversation friendly. It can be very frustrating when people don’t understand you in conversations where the truth is on your side, but as said before, some people just don’t want to change their minds. I’m sure others might really benefit from having a conversation about this as a lot of our behavior in these times stems from uncertainty and insecurity. After all, it’s about keeping each other safe!

SAD Times: Coping Strategies for a Covid Winter by Stanley Ward I’d make a joke that ‘Winter is Coming’ but I’ve never seen Game of Thrones, and I don’t even know what that line references. But the season of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is setting in, and it looks like this year it could be a nice one-two punch of seasonal depression and lockdown blues. We were lucky at the start of this academic year to have some COVID safe events and surprisingly decent Dutch weather, but now, with increased infections, the Horeca closed, and temperatures dropping, we face a new set of challenges for coping in a pandemic winter. For this reason the board decided to rally it’s least optimistic and most unqualified member (me) to lay out some coping strategies for the upcoming unsunny season. Quick Disclaimer; SAD is real, and I don't mean to make light of it. If you are suffering from SAD, talk to your friends and seek profesional help. 1: Decor, Decor, Decor! Every time you feel anxious about something in the wider world, go buy some more fairy lights; our unit has never been more illuminated. Not only does the act of consumerism briefly fill a deep void in your soul, but it also gives you a task for the day. One box of bent nails and frustrated hammering later - Voila! Goodbye icy prison, hello winter wonderland. 2: Get Creative! Why not funnel all of that existential dread into a creative project? I personally spent lockdown round one working on an alternative country EP full of dreadful material that should never be released, and making a Jesus themed trap banger with my friend. Maybe this time I’ll try poetry. While it might not be possible to write the Next Great Novel or learn how to paint like a Ducth master, my musical exploits have taught me the value in devoting hours to a ‘pointless’ creative project. Having something to work on can be a nice feeling, even if the results aren’t quite as amazing as expected. 3: Culinary Fun! Bon Appetit Magazine’s Best Bolognese recipe requires around 4 hours of cooking time and the opening of a bottle of wine. This means you can easily convert an evening meal into a day-long activity that ends, as all good days do, with a traditional Italian pasta dish. It’s the perfect procrastination mechanism; How could you possibly finish that assignment when you have to watch the sauce? Deserts are also fun for fending off the fear. A frozen berry crumble takes around 30 minutes (including cooking time) and is a fun budget friendly treat for the whole unit. Last week I made three. 4: Read, Read, Read! C’mon brain. Just let me do it. Please. Do the thing. Let me. Let me read a book for pleasure. As we all know, after finishing our class readings our skulls are mushy containers of brain oatmeal, and so all we can do is eat pesto pasta, tweet, watch TikTok and lie. Wrong! It turns out you can actually read for fun? Or at least buy/borrow books and let them collect dust on your nightstand. And don’t believe those people who said they read Uylesses over lockdown. Lies. All lies. 5: Fuck It. By this I mean go chomp chomp on a weed brownie, and fly straight to the moon with your best pals. Or crank the stereo and have a rave-for-one in your room. Even in a time of a global crisis, there’s still ways to have a little fun. A little fun is great if you can get it, with whatever means. This semester whether like me, you’re aiming to trade out my anxious tendencies for those of The Dude Jeff Lebowski, or just trying to figure out how to not fall asleep during a teams class, just do what you can.

A University College Student Association Magazine

BUBBLE

The Bad Presentation Epidemic

Illustration © Akari Sakamoto

by Sam de Visser

Occasionally, I have a nightmare. In the nightmare, I end up in a 9 AM class, and I sit down in the classroom; UU cup of coffee in hand. I look at the front of the classroom, and there they are, my fellow students, ready to present. And they pull up a Powerpoint presentation: riddled with bullet points, full sentences, soft-looking primary colours, one image; and they start talking, and they are reading from a little note in their hand, and they never look up -- they say everything in the same monotonous voice, and it all sounds the same, and just like this sentence it never seems to end. At some point, after endless eternity, I die of boredom. That’s when I wake up, cold sweat on my forehead. Over the past five semesters at UCU, student presentations seem to have become the silent killer to class interest. Not just for me mind you; most of my friends share this experience, “Yeah, you didn’t miss a lot in class today, it was just presentations,” they’d say. The laptops are opened, the phones are pulled out, and no one is paying attention until it’s over and the teacher takes back the wheel. How come? How come a school that is so full of incredibly intelligent, talented people is so incredibly bad at presenting? Mind you, this is not an attack on the student body. I don’t think it’s anyone’s personal fault that student presentations consistently fail to be engaging. Whenever I present, I face the same issue. Instead, I think it’s a problem of teaching and content more than anything. What I’ve noticed throughout the twenty-two courses I have taken at UCU is that presentation topics are often assigned, teachers assume that students are able to present competently and engagingly, students then fail to do so, and yet they are still given good to great to excellent grades… because they fit the formula. As an interdepartmental HUM/SSC major, I have only rarely had the freedom to choose my own presentation topic. This creates problem

number one: students often present on topics they couldn't care less about. Why aren’t we given the freedom to pick our own topics? Based on courses where this is the case (in my case, mostly history ones), this will automatically make students more engaged and make the presentations better. I get that for a teacher, having students choose their own topics may mean that some parts of their course curriculum will suddenly not be given the attention they deem necessary. But if these parts of the course are so important anyway, then why do students have to present them, not the professors who specialise in it? Problem number two is with the teaching itself. As I’ve said before, teachers often assume that students will be able to present competently. I assume because this is a part of the Research in Context curriculum. But even in Research in Context, prior experience is assumed, and because all UCU students come from wildly different high schools with wildly different presentation requirements, this prior experience is different to everyone. On top of that, presenting is as much a personal skill as something that can be learned. Some people are just naturally better at it. So how come we are all expected to fit an objective standard of ‘presentation teaching’?

graded. I understand that grades are important, and that public speaking skills have to be measured somehow (despite how personal they are to each speaker), but the prospect of a bad grade also neuters people into more boring, less confident presentations. Why would you want to take risks if it could lead to a worse grade? I can’t answer that question. I also genuinely don’t know a solution to this, because relying on intrinsic motivation over grades to get your students to give a good presentation comes with an equally large, unique set of issues.

“...teachers assume that students are able to present competently and engagingly, students then fail to do so” But if I have to sit through one more of those awful UCU presentations, if I have to face one more engaging discussion question, even if these are my own, it may actually drain the remaining life force and leave me a husk of a Sam. Once again, this is not an attack on the student body. These issues are teaching issues first and foremost; but I also have no clue how to solve them. I just wanted to address this problem, because I think it’s important that someone talks about it, and I know that I am not the only one who feels that way. So to conclude, I present to you the following discussion question: how do we cure the Bad Presentation Epidemic?

An equally important issue is the standardised shape that presentations have been given at UCU. Every presentation needs to be about certain specific things, they all need some RoOm FoR DiScuSsiON at the end, academic articles need to be shoehorned in at all times. I get why: at academic conferences, this is how it works. But the problem is that this formula kills all creativity and instead forces us all into a ‘presentation factory’. The fact that most UCU presentations are in a group format doesn’t help either. The more people are involved, the less creative a presentation will usually be because there is not as much space for individual expression. So we have a combination of inefficient teaching, pre-assigned topics that kill interest, and a lack of space for creative expression. A final problem I’d like to address, perhaps the most important one, is that all UCU presentations are Illustration © Sofie Ryan

The Boomerang | October 2020

BAR BRAWL

To Zoöp or Not To Zoöp? Becoming a Zoöp: Learning to Care by Ann-Maj Savosnick & Eshwari Ramsali

“These uncertain pasts, presents, and futures, born from the intra-activity of entangled human and non-human agencies, are constantly becoming anew and changing the ways in which we become-with them. Thus, the quest to recognize the many other-than-human agencies that intra-act in our becomingwith(in) the world, an important aspect of the posthuman project... where perhaps all life may be able to continue and flourish in the continuing age of the Anthropocene. If we are to construct new ethical parameters, appropriate to our continuing anthropogenic times, for the interventions we seek to enact, then non-human agencies must be taken seriously as the world-building forces that they also have always already been.” - Jeffrey Scott Marchand (The Posthuman Glossary)

We want to make UCU a Zoöp. Essentially, a Zoöp is a new format for collaboration between humans and non-humans. The aim of this collaboration is ecological regeneration designing a future that is good for both non-humans and humans alike. For UCU, this would mean that all campus life – humans, animals and plants - would get legal representation in College Hall. This is a part of a bigger movement that was born out of an idea initiated by the Nieuwe Instituut in Rotterdam. It was inspired by examples around the world that gave legal rights to non-humans as a means of sharing agency on this planet. Being in the midst of a raging global pandemic has made us acutely aware of the fact that nature cannot continue to be perceived as a passive backdrop to our humanism. It has forced us to question prevailing forms of anthropocentrism and confront the power of other-than-human beings in the world. So what does it mean to confront this? It means a sweeping shift, it means learning to live in a multispecies world. This is not straightforward; there aren’t rules or certain steps to take and this process is bound to be deeply confrontational. Yet it's worth a shot, and that's exactly what we are trying to do. This is at the core of Zoöp; exploring, experimenting, failing, learning how, as UCU, we can craft more open and cooperative ways to attend to our future. This would come in the form of engaging with campus life in new ways: developing innovative forms of knowing and responding to nature, and developing political

and legal frameworks to give all of this a proper place into our institution. By becoming a Zoöp, we intend to radically approach the Anthropocene through the ethics of care. To “care” means to recognize the needs of others, attempt to respond to those needs, and establish relationships of trust that transcend the boundaries of justice. Our passion for this project comes from the fact that we struggle to ground our ‘care’ for this planet and the zoop gives us the space to become more sensitive to the needs of nature, ourselves and each other. A large part of our faith in Zoöp comes from the fact that our solutions to anthropogenic climate change so far are not dealing with deeper issues at hand. And to “fix” something means that you understand the actors, setting and problems associated with it. And to say that we do, would be incredibly naive. The Zoöp offers an innovative alternative to step into this uncertainty and to recognise nature’s agency for the dynamic actor that it is. If we learn to listen as much as we care, our approaches to real-life issues, our relationships with non-humans and with each other would be transformed. If this resonates with how you care, contact us and we will provide with more detailed info We welcome all conversation, ideas, opinions and criticisms to work together in this spectacular mess of a project.

Daniel’s Delectable Discussions by Daniel Kamenkovitch

What is the biggest flaw of democracy? Is a “majority” decision an obvious and objective criterium for a “right” law to be implemented? Is it justified for Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Alphabet, Alibaba, and McDonalds to have influential power simply because countless people follow what they do or produce? Do we face a constant flow, panta rhei, or can we crystalize any objective norm for judging politics? Centuries ago, the death penalty was an obvious norm, nowadays it is repellent. Decided by the many. Because the human rights carta was decided and agreed upon again, by the many. The same applies for homosexuality, black lives matter, women’s position in society, abortion. Genetic engineering seems to be wrong today; but could it be “just” tomorrow? Is truth a global or a local phenomenon? Is something right just because most people agree upon it?

A University College Student Association Magazine

BAR BRAWL

To Zoöp or Not To Zoöp? UCU as Proto-Zoöp: An Honest Critique by Vicky Pinheiro Keulers Have you ever thought about what life is like for the mouse that plagues your unit? What about the fruit flies that swarm the trash? Maybe even the fungi in your forgotten Tupperware, or the grass that dares to be cut in front of your window at goddamn 11 in the morning (seriously, leave me and my unhealthy sleeping habits alone)? Believe it or not, UCU’s community goes way beyond its students and faculty - it includes the non-humans, too, all the way down to the tiniest micro-organisms that crawl among us. Should these lives remain overlooked? ‘A collaboration between humans and non-humans’ is the essence of the so-called “Zoöp”. The Zoöp moves away from human-centred decision-making by instead focusing on decisions that aim to benefit the ecological system as a whole. At the basis of the Zoöp is an ‘ontological’ shift, one that should ultimately underpin the efforts countering the destructive human practices that have tarnished the Earth for decades. Now, serious student-led efforts are being made to transform UCU into a “proto-Zoöp”. Although I am thoroughly intrigued by the idea of fostering new and better relations with our environment, I have my doubts about a protoZoöp at UCU. The practicalities of the UCU proto-Zoöp remain vague. What would it look like? A campus overridden by weeds? More flowers for bees? Abolishing campus cats for the sake of the mice population? I have absolutely no clue, and I don’t think anyone does yet. It is a prototype, after all. Of course, to some extent, this project is supposed to be vague. It’s supposed to make us feel uncomfortable, to force us to reimagine the human/ non-human relationships that we haven’t ever bat an eye at before. But, however harsh it may sound, practicalities are what will ultimately determine the success of this project.

presented, will cause this shift to occur. Ontologies are rigid and stubborn, socialized from the moment we were born, often with a long generational history. If my leftist, anthro, revolutionary-in-the-making ass can barely wrap my head around the Zoöp, I don’t know how the clueless law and econ major next door ever will. Collectively, we are champions at isolating ourselves from the outside world. UCU tends to overestimate its size, its importance. I hate to admit it, but what happens within our gates is negligible. The climate crisis requires acute, real-world, grand scheme solutions. Not bickering about what the trees within our tiny bubble may think. In the end, the root cause of the climate crisis is clear: we have a flawed perception of the world. We think in terms of resources, in terms of what benefits us. This needs to change, but I just doubt that the Zoöp will help us get there in time. Trying to solve this problem from within our institution does not seem productive enough to me - rather, it might isolate us further. I guess I just have a lot of questions. And maybe I’m too pessimistic about the UCU zoöp. Universities as institutions do partially serve to legitimize knowledge, and this initiative could lead to more widespread, domino-like social change. But we have to be practical to assess its feasibility. Factoring in the campus relocation that is right around the corner, will the struggle be worth it? My advice for those involved in the Zoöp: don’t be completely discouraged by my critiques. I think I speak for many when I say that I am not opposed to the idea at all, I’m merely quite sceptical about its viability. Continue to find ways in which to make the much-needed ontological shift come about. A good place to start is reaching students in a way that is perhaps less abstract and more rooted in concrete, attainable changes. Ontologies may be rigid, but they are certainly not fixed.

“It already takes a whole committee, plus volunteers, to take care of a couple square metres of EcologiCo garden - who will look after the remaining ±74.250 m² UCU terrain?” So, let’s start to reimagine together. How will be decided what is best for the ecological community? In a Zoöp guest lecture with Gerard van der Ree last semester, the idea of a representative legal council for non-humans was brought up. From my understanding, this was said to eventually consist of students and others, from various disciplines, who shall together decide what would be in the best interest of the UCU ecosystem. If done accurately, surely this would need a rather extensive study of all organisms on campus. Hats off to anyone who can pull that off next to their regular UCU schedule. It already takes a whole committee, plus volunteers, to take care of a couple square metres of EcologiCo garden - who will look after the remaining ±74.250 m² UCU terrain? All individuals involved in this project are knowledgeable, driven, and able to make change happen at a larger scale. I would hate to see their energies ‘wasted’ on something that will not matter in the long run. Because, truthfully, at this stage, I don’t think it will. I am convinced that an ontological shift, a change in the way in which we view the world and the environment, is essential in mobilizing people in the fight against the climate crisis. However, I don’t think imposing a UCU proto-Zoöp, as currently

Illustration © Annelise van den Akker

The Boomerang | October 2020

CULTURE

Henrietta Lacks: An Immortal Life Whose Cells Have Changed Modern History by Vela Kaluderovic Henrietta Lacks was a black tobacco farmer from southern Virginia. She was raised by her grandfather and married her cousin David with whom she had grown up; the couple had five children. She was described as an energetic, positive, and bright woman, who would light up every room she was in - a room which was often filled with the tired faces of her family, all of whom worked on the farm for most of the day. At 30 years old in 1950, she was seeking treatment in Johns Hopkins Hospital– the only one in the area to treat African Americans at the time. She was poor, black, and terminally ill with cervical cancer, all factors which at the time made her little more than an object of observation for doctors. During a routine biopsy, a doctor took tissue samples from tumors in her womb without her knowledge or consent. Until 1951, all human cell lines that researchers tried to grow in a lab for research purposes died within days, making experiments on drugs and different medical treatments impossible. Upon first glance, Henrietta’s tumor looked strange: dark purple, shiny, and jelly-like. Thus, the

samples were given to scientist George Gey, who quickly noticed that the cells in them kept on dividing. When one died, it was replaced with more and more cells. After careful observation, it was concluded that Henrietta Lacks’ cancer cells (HeLa cells) represented the first immortal human cell line. No longer was the phenomenon of cell line death in labs an issue. What is it about her cells that makes them so special? Although not entirely understood, it is assumed that cancer cells lack a mechanism that triggers programmed cell death – apoptosis - when genetic errors occur in development. This then allows for those cells to multiply, in Henrietta’s case indefinitely. Having realized the potential of the HeLa cells, doctor Gey sent samples to labs worldwide. Soon, 6 trillion HeLa cells were produced per day. The importance of this discovery should not be ignored. Still alive and reproducing today, HeLa cells have allowed for many diseases, such as HIV, polio, and measles to be researched and understood thoroughly,

opening the door for what we now call immunology. However, the approximately 70.000 studies published using Henrietta’s cells were done with virtually no ethical consideration. Companies and scientists have earned millions off of HeLa. Henrietta Lacks unfortunately passed away before any discoveries were made. However, her family were not notified of the successes either: they only found out decades later. Needless to say, we have all benefited from Henrietta in one way or another. Knowing her name, and saying it out loud, is a necessary step for realizing the identity of this lost legend, without whom the medical discoveries we take for granted most likely would never have happened. Interested in more? Rebecca Skloot’s The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks offers an in-depth look into the entire remarkable life of the woman, the myth, the legend herself.

Much Ado About Mushrooms by Averly Dkaur

Illustration © Lea Litvak

usually be gelatinous. Most of these bad bois can be eaten straight out of the soil, but they usually have no flavor so it’s sorta like eating dirt with a cool texture.

Disclaimer: In no way am I encouraging you to go and actively pick these mushrooms!! Just look at them and admire the wonders of nature. Some stuff in nature just looks gross and strange, so most of us tend to overlook it. Some of the funkiest looking mushrooms I have seen come from the Heterobasidiomycetes group. Which is just a big word you can usually throw around while talking about Jelly Fungi so you can sound smart. Jelly fungi appear to be the consistency of jelly (shocker) and tend to

The main mushroom I want to talk about is the Wood ear mushroom, also known as the Auricularia Angiospermarum. In China Wood ear mushrooms are added to dishes to help improve breathing, circulation, sore throats, and to help cope with fevers and colds. These bad bois have been around since ancient times in scattered parts of Asia and some islands in the Pacific Ocean. They were first classified in 1753 and then reclassified multiple times till 1888 cause they were so weird. Today the Wood Ear mushrooms can be found in Asia, Europe, Indonesia, the South Pacific, Australia, Africa, and North and South America. They usually grow on branches of Willow or other broadleaf trees. You can usually find them on rotting wood because the Wood Ear digests it when it’s moist, causing it to rot. If found on a live tree, it is hurting the tree (sorta not really look into it)!!! They grow throughout the year but in

rainy somewhat cold conditions, they thrive. How to prepare it: Wood ears are best used for making soups, stir-frying, and sautéing. Before cooking make sure to rinse the fungus and any of the tough spots should be taken off. Wood ears are usually eaten for their chewy, fatty texture when added to dishes, and it really absorbs all the flavors. In China, they are commonly added into hot and sour soup and to Szechuan and Hunan cuisine to absorb the spicier flavors. In other parts of the world, the Wood ear mushroom is usually found in a dried form that can easily be rehydrated by adding it into the water, making it a lot easier to package. To rehydrate the fungus it usually takes around half an hour. They go really well with green onions, ginger, soy sauce, red wine, cucumber, tofu, and shrimp. When you have these mushrooms you should eat them as soon as possible and really only keep them in your fridge for a couple of days, making sure to wrap them in paper towels.

A University College Student Association Magazine

CULTURE

Your Monthly Culture Fill With Ricky & Mill by Ricky Maggioni and Milena Stoilova Welcome to our monthly column on what’s culturally popping in and around Utrecht. We hope you’ll be amazed or amused, maybe even both!

listen while watching. Each video had accompanying music that ranged from pop/rock and metallic to deep techno, which I think fit the content appropriately.

For this month's edition, we went to the exhibition To Live As Equals by Tony Cokes at the BAK Museum (Base for Contemporary Art). This exhibition takes well-known topics of cross-sectional social inequalities and turns them into an audio-visual sensory presentation. From the moment we set foot inside the vast cemented room, we felt a little uneasy. The hall, scarcely furnished with a few 90s-style television sets, each with a corresponding chair in front of it, welcomed - or rather, entrapped us. It was a little ironic how this almost empty space managed to make such an impression on us.

Speaking of content, one video stood out to me in particular. It contained a series of quotes by Donald Trump on the topic of women and sexuality (I know, I wonder what brilliant thoughts he expressed). Unexpectedly, the video started with a seemingly clear-minded reflection on Trump’s part of how women should not be underestimated in their sexualities and ambitions, and that men are by no means superior in either regard. Yet, this coherent and almost empowering message quickly turned into a far more concerning rhetoric. Trump started to frame female empowerment as threatening while attempting to praise his own awareness of women’s potential. For me, the brilliance of the video was that it highlighted the misogynistic undertones of a male rhetoric which may at first appear quite balanced, even feminist in itself.

Ricky: I had few expectations ahead of the exhibit, as I must admit I had never heard of Tony Cokes before, nor was I familiar with “post-conceptualist” art. Worry not, though, even an art-peasant such as myself was able to appreciate the messages and form of this eerie exhibit. And yes, eerie is precisely the word I have chosen to describe this. The exhibit presents Cokes’s work in the form of videos on old television sets. It became soon clear to us that his style is not one of subtlety and nuance, but rather one of impactful, discomforting sights and sounds. We were handed headsets which we could plug into each television to

Milena: As a woman who lives in a country where contraception is very normalized, it was interesting and most of all shocking to see the video in which American politicians and media personalities talk about the supposed dangers of contraception. The video starts with Kelly Clarkson singing ‘Mr. Know It All’ while multiple controversial quotes appear on a bright pink screen. For example, politicians

claiming that state-funded contraception will mean that they have to pay just so women can have sex without a condom or that they first want proof that contraception can be used for non-sexual reasons. Then, the music changes into ‘I’m Every Woman’ by Whitney Houston and a different tone is set. Women come into the video to oppose these - and other - attempts to control reproductive rights. Ricky: Do you hear that? *Theme music of Sesame Street fills the air* Intrigued, we both follow the sound into a studio. On a big projector, quotes from the essay Disco Inferno by Moustafa Bayoumi appear, displaying the reality of psychological warfare. With multiple fragments, this work shows how pop music was used by US forces to illicitly torture Iraqis. It is a powerful weapon. Music brutally pumped at detainees like Moustafa to unravel them and drive them crazy. “There was a stereo inside the cell, playing at such a loud volume that I couldn’t sleep. It stayed like that for twenty-three hours”, he said. I don’t think we will ever hear the theme music of Sesame Street the same way again. To Live as Equals is on display at BAK in Utrecht until January 2021

Stars of UCU Rate my Plate

by The Boomerang

UCU is full of motivated and talented young people, and this is reflected in their culinary habits. The Boomerang Board presents to you our favourite dishes from UCU Rate my Plate. Choose your fighter.

This one is terrifying. So disgusting but so relatable at the same time. This is something we could all come up with, and that is not a compliment to humanity. I can’t roast this, because every time I try, I feel shame.

Is it snot? Is it a toothpaste-y delight? While this edition is in black & white, I assure you this cake is bright green. Is it a delicious cake that just happens to weirdly and inexplicably look like the coronavirus? I guess we’ll never know.

This dish comes from the kitchen of one of the Boomerang’s own. A healthy serving of gelatinous mudpie, containing chunks. Chunks of what? We couldn’t tell.

This delicious offering is one of our personal highlights. While not particularly edible, rumour has it that hundreds of these cakes will be used as a sustainable building material for UCU’s next campus.

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The Boomerang | October 2020

The Joys of Night-time Biking in Utreg (as the locals say it) By Noor van Asseldonk Chen

It’s 5 past 9 o’clock in the evening, your brain is fried, and you don’t feel like doing any more work. But being #coronacoopedup means you still have that spark of manic energy whispering “come on baby, let’s do something…” The Dutch solution? Get on your bike! Here’s a (well-lit*) route to get you moving! Start by biking towards Wilhelminapark, take in the old houses, and peek in if you can. The Dutch never seem to close their curtains, which means optimal inspiration for your future home. The area around Wilhelminapark is incredibly posh, so you can keep window-shopping until you’re down by the Maliesingel. Turn into the city centre at the Louis Hartlooper Complex, one of the only buildings in Utrecht built in the Amsterdam School Style, and now a prize-winning cinema! Take a little detour past the Geertekerk and make sure to look around on your way past: you’ll be greeted by a sleepy canal and the historical Zeven Steegjes (the Seven Alleys). This was a working-class neighbourhood built in the 1800s for the nearby

sugar and cigar factories and has been preserved Utrecht: the F.C. Dondersstraat. This little beautifully. street is nothing short of a wonder. The Hotel Oorsprongpark gives the street an incredibly Keep going and you’ll end up at the Mari- ‘Un-Dutch’ feel with its old-fashioned lanterns aplaats, where the bustling terrace will always** and bright HOTEL sign. Maybe you’re in Berlin, welcome you for a drink. Head on past The maybe you’re in Paris… Anything for a bit of Dom Tower and you’ll find yourself blinking escapism, no? under the fluorescent lights of Boon’s Markt, the supermarket open 24/7 that’ll satisfy your Head back past St. Barbara’s Graveyard midnight craving with a warm pastry. Or two. and the rosarium before you reach the familiar Or three. Now after this, you might be ready to crossroads. Maybe you’ll have a cup of tea when head home, but there's one last secret spot you you get home, maybe a hot shower, maybe you’ll need to see… hit up your government-approved corona sex buddy… Either way, pat yourself on the back for Zoom past cozy Café Flater** and Neude being a nighttime venturer, you’ve earned it. down into the Voorstraat. This road is the final stretch before home, and what a lovely stretch *make sure to bring your bike lights and it is… You’ll pass restaurants, coffeeshops, perhaps a buddy, stay safe at night kids! coffeeshops, boutiques… Keep an eye out for **since the new corona measures this is sadly places you might want to revisit during the day. not the case anymore, but hopefully soon again. Bike straight on for about as long as it’ll take you to listen to ‘In The Air Tonight’ by Phil Collins, and you’ll find yourself passing what can only be described as the strangest street in all of

Important Opinions on Important Movies by Sam de Visser It’s spooky scary season again! So just like last year, I’d like to dedicate this month’s column to one of my favourite spooky scary movies. I remember last year I talked about a little-known Japanese aRtHOuSe film, something I tend to do a lot, yes because I’m pretentious, but also because I think it’s* more interesting to write about things that a lot of people don’t know about. This year, however, I’d like to talk about

one of the most widely beloved and popular horror films of all time as if it hasn't been talked to death ten times over already… The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980). Oh boy, I’m excited. So I recognise that The Shining is basically a cultural icon at this point, and that it has also been parodied to death - Jack Nicholson breaking through that door, the weird child

actors, funny topical isolation/pandemic references, et cetera. But it got this way for a reason. It’s really, really good. I’m not a big fan of Stanley Kubrick, because I think a lot of his films tend to be very cold and distant. Characters seem to be driven by rationale over emotions, and every detail and shot seems to be carefully placed and thought

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out. This sounds great, but to me, a lot of Kubrick’s films tend to be very clinical. They’re pretty, yes, and very well-made, but I don’t enjoy them very much. I think The Shining is the major exception here, not as it deviates from this style, but precisely because it fits the ‘Kubrick formula’ so well. The Shining creates distance from the viewer by kind of detaching its camera from the horrors that are happening on the screen, making you feel like a bystander more than anything. In this entire movie, doom feels practically inevitable. You know shit in this haunted hotel is going to hit the fan, you know bad things are going to happen, and you have no choice but to sit there and watch. The Shining contains many scenes in which Danny, the little kid, just cycles around the hotel on his tricycle, the camera lingering behind his shoulders as if something’s chasing him, as if something is just behind the camera’s point of view and it’s coming for him. As a viewer, you’re detached from the action, but exactly this kind of detachment is what makes it immersive.

CULTURE

The fact that Kubrick doesn’t really allow you to really get into the character’s minds is The Shining’s biggest strength, because you never really know what’s going on. And yes, some of the visual effects may look a little cheesy today, but more of them… don’t. Due to a combination of music, atmosphere and alienation, The Shining rightfully earns its place as one of the best horror films of all time by not being occupied with jump scares as much as it’s just trying to make you feel as uncomfortable as possible. I hate cheap scares and this movie is completely devoid of them. There’s a lot to say about this movie, and I’ve written this column knowing that most people on the western half of this planet have either seen it or at least heard about it. To me, despite all the memes, it is the perfect combination of music, visuals, acting and Kubrick’s unique filmmaking style, culminating in one of the best horror films of all time. It’s quite difficult to not look at these kinds of films with a fresh eye, without having the many ways it’s been ridiculed and parodied in mind. I’d recommend trying it anyway.

Harry’s Hedonistic Hotspots by Harry Mills Visjes Fish (and Chips, among much else) Twijnstraat 24, Utrecht Cost: € € Price to Calorie Ratio: Fair to Good

On his trip from campus into town, Harry was feeling peckish. Cycling past the Nijntje Museum, in the southern reaches of central Utrecht, he remembered a cute, hole-in-the-wall Thai place that he had been meaning to check out for some time. Given that it was cold and grey, and starting to rain, Harry decided that something sapid and steaming would be preferable to the frikandelbroodje he had been planning to procure from the Albert Heijn around the corner. As he was fiddling with his munted lock, in an attempt to shackle his bicycle to some railing, a tantalizing and mouthwatering scent was wafting its way along the cobblestones and through the cold air, leaving a trail of warmth and comfort in its wake. Just as Harry straightened up, having finally managed to placate the obstinate lock, the scent hit him squarely on the nose (or rather, in the nose). Aaaah, thought Harry, fish and chips. Like a police dog that has been irrevocably distracted from its work by a cleverly placed slab of bacon, Harry swiftly altered his course in pursuit of the source of these olfactory intoxicants, which seemed to be emanating from a shop on the corner whose window read Visjes. Following eight counts of awkward and unchoreographed Samba at the door, with a partner whose unfortunate mix of polite indecisiveness rivaled his own, Harry entered the shop. Though it had been the promise of fish and chips that lured him in, a quick glance at the menu hanging above the counter informed him there was much more on offer. In addition to the expected fare of kibbeling, lekkerbekje, and fries (with assorted indulgent sauces) there were gambas, shrimp and bakkeljauw croquettes, calamari, and fried mussels (though why anyone would want to fry perfectly good mussels was beyond the scope of Harry’s comprehension). Fish and chips went for € 7.50, which was not a bad price at all considering the size of the portions (tartar sauce included), and much else went for less; € 4.50 for a portion of fried mussels, for example. In addition to fish and

chips, the shop sold all manner of fresh seafood, a symphony of blues, greens, and pinks splashed upon the glacial white of their ice beds. In mangled Dutch, and then again in English on account of the mangledness, Harry ordered his fish and chips. When it arrived, hot and steaming (though still crispy and crunchy), he was pleased. Aaaah, he thought to himself for the second time, just the thing for a wet and wintry day.

12 QUAD QUERIES

The Boomerang | October 2020

st "What is the scarie ?" thing in your unit

“Me when people haven’t done their dishes”

– Simon

“Martha's door”

– Katya

“My door literally won’t close”

–Zaheu

as ay leak that w “The huge hallw eeks!" there for two w

“Alex”

– Lois

– Naomi “Hearing my un itmate’s moans when they’re havi ng sex”

– Gina

“The dead mouse”

– Vela

“The

fire alarms”

– Willem & Sasha

" Maggots in the tras - Edda

e roll of toilet n o ly n o g in v “Ha paper left" – Rafaella

Boomerang uses wind energy printers The Boomerang is a periodical newspaper. It comes out eight times a year. This is the second issue of the academic year.