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April 20, 2017

april 20 (blaze) 2017



campus quiz, overheards, cav's

4 WORD ON THE STREET death anniversary


EOTW, locust flyering dispatch

7 MUSIC Whitney


alpha phi chef, poi dog





10 FEATURE alcoholism


social media roundup

14 F&TV

gregory, Big Little Lies


read it and eat it, the locust project


Worst of Penn

BLAZE IT, PRAISE IT POT–ENTIAL BONG ALONG HIGH HOPES THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER REEFER GLADNESS Dalton Destefano, Film & TV Beat Michaela Reitano, Film & TV Beat Brooke DiGia, Film & TV Beat Annika Iyer, Ego Beat Julia Bell, Ego Beat Jackie Lawyer, Ego Beat Caroline Harris, Highbrow Beat Nick Castoria, Highbrow Beat Alix Steerman, Highrow Beat Claire Schmidt, Lowbrow Beat Andrea Begleiter, Lowbrow Beat Andreas Pavlou, Vice & Virtue Beat Gomian Konneh, Vice & Virtue Beat Aliya Chaudhry, Tech Beat Annabelle Williams, Tech Beat Colin Lodewick, Arts Beat Linda Lin, Arts Beat

Remi Lederman, Features Editor David Murrell, Features Editor Emily Schwartz, Word on the Street Editor Nick Joyner, Film & TV Editor Elena Modesti, Highbrow Editor Michael Coyne, Ego Editor Zoe Albano-Oritt, Vice & Virtue Editor Talia Sterman, Music Editor Morgan Potts, Tech Editor Katie Marshall, Lowbrow Editor


Right now, I'm on a lot of second to lasts. It's my second to last semester editing Street. It's my second to last Fling, my second to last bright Philly spring and hellish Philly summer. It's my second to last year as a college student. Second to last is a bizarre place to be. I know I have one more of whatever's left, which makes it too soon to be sad. I can't mourn yet because I still have time. And yet, I'm close. Second to last means that not only is the end coming—it means that the end is coming soon. Freshman year, everything felt very, very far away. If I couldn't fully do everything, it was okay, because I had years and years to go. Four years was a long time. Now I'm three years in and I'm left with a lot of second to lasts. I think the strangest thing is how endless everything seems at first. Even with Street, I felt as though I had a million more productions to go through. Now, as I write this, I'm going through my last production of the semester. It's weird, looking at everything as half over. I guess this is the point where I should say something encouraging about all that I have left and how much there is left to come. But to be honest, I'm terrified. College is such a luxury, a safety net of time and space and energy. I'm not quite done yet, but all of the sudden the end seems more tangible. However, I do still have some encouraging thoughts left (what can I say, I'm an optimist). A friend of mine that graduated two years ago told me that her senior year, she decided to do everything. Go to event she'd never gone to in the past, shows she'd never attended, met people she'd never met. I think it's time for me to do the same. I can't look at everything as a second to last when there are so many more firsts. Closing out this semester and approaching the lasts is scary, yes. But I'm going to use that to motivate my last year, to make it as fulfilling and challenging and wild as I can. Enjoy your summer, my friends. I'll see you all on my last first day of school.


Orly Greenberg, Editor–in–Chief Dani Blum, Managing Editor Chloe Shakin, Audience Engagement Director Sofie Praestgaard, Design Director Corey Fader, Photo Director

Jillian Karande, Music Beat Mark Paraskevas, Music Beat Angela Huang, Music Beat Jamie Gobreski, Music Beat


Staff Writers: Emily Rush, Haley Weiss, Lily Snider, Michelle Pereira, Shilpa Saravanan, Steph Barron, Bowman Cooper, Julie Levitan,

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Emily Cieslak, Lauren Donato, Sabrina Qiao Zack Greenstein, Design Editor Carissa Zou, Design Editor Teagan Aguirre, Design Editor Gloria Yuen, Illustrator Anne Marie Grudem, Illustrator Autumn Powell, Photo Editor Brinda Ramesh, Photo Editor Young Lee, Video Editor Emily Hason, Video Editor Kyler McVay, Copy Director Paola Ruano, Copy Editor Erin Farrell, Copy Editor Lea Eisenstein, Copy Editor Perren Carillo, Copy Editor Sofia Price, Social Media Editor Cole Bauer, Social Media Editor

Maya Rosenberg, Social Media Editor Blake Brashear, Social Media Editor Unless otherwise noted, all photos are by Corey Fader, Autumn Powell, Brinda Ramesh and Dayzia Terry Contacting 34th Street Magazine: If you have questions, comments, complaints or letters to the editor, email Orly Greenberg, Editor–in–Chief, at You can also call us at (215) 422-4640. "You know how Oprah has her favorite things? Mine's all goats." ©2017 34th Street Magazine, The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the express, written consent of the editors (but I bet we will give you the a-okay). All rights reserved. 34th Street Magazine is published by The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc., 4015 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19104, every Thursday.


ELENA MODESTI & NICK CASTORIA You're all so damn predictable. Highbrow knows you better than you know yourselves. We’re here to tell you how your trivial choices define entire aspects of your personality.

WHAT’S YOUR PREFERRED STUDY SPOT ON CAMPUS? WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD TRUCK ON CAMPUS? IT’LL THE ANSWER IS INDICATIVE OF YOUR SEXUAL CURIOS- TELL US WHAT YOU WEAR FOR CLASS EVERYDAY. ITY LEVEL. a) Lyns a) Huntsman b) Magic Carpet b) Van Pelt c) Buis c) Fisher Fine Arts d) Fruit Truck d) annenberg library Answer A: You definitely are still wearing real clothes to your Thursday morning recitation. Dare to be different!

If you answered A or D, we know that you're a bit curious and willing to try a few kinky things here and there. As for you C’ers, we know you’ll sleep with just about anything that shares your political view on hating Trump. And lastly, those of you who chose B—let's be real, you’re not having sex at all.


a) Avril 50 b) Starbucks c) Saxby’s d) Hubbub Answer A: You drink straight absinthe, and probably use Egyptian musk as a chaser. Savage! Answer B: Basic. Malibu or Strawberry Lemonade Svedka. You also probably wear those green bead shot glass necklaces on St. Patrick’s Day.

Answer B: You're probably always wearing something from the Urban Outfitters on campus, and most likely are a second semester senior with one class a week because how else do you have time to stand in that line for 30 minutes a day. Answer C: Joggers and boots. Maybe a puffer vest if it’s a little chilly outside. E–cig in your pocket not optional. Answer D: Leggings.


Patio outside of Phi Delt Frontera Huntsman Second Floor QSR Front of CapoGiro

Answer A: There’s no way you’re 21. You probably say your favorite bar is Smokes', but you only get in once a year. One day, young grasshopper.

Answer C: God forbid you’re not seen by the scene every morning: You’re try–hard chill, and probably hate beer but order a Corona and lime at the bar anyway.

Answer B: You live and breathe for Smokes'. Probably stay till 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night to see what underclassmen will agree to go home with you.

Answer D: When you’re not meeting up with your friends to smoke hookah and watch documentaries, you’re probably sipping on some self–proclaimed artsy brand of Wawa red wine. Or you are hungover as fuck from shot gun racing (beer, that is). Either demographic is applicable here.

Answer C: You’re “over the bar scene”—Tap House tonight with the brothers or bust. If nachos are involved, so be it.

over heard PENN at

Sceney jinxer: Jinx, you owe me a gram of coke! That's the Penn version of jinx. Ambitious student who's at this place for the right reasons: I'm majoring in becoming a Wharton boy's housewife. Not–so–media–active fan favorite: I don't have social media, I only have fan pages. Honest student sitting on the Houston steps as a tour passes: DO NOT COME HERE. THIS PLACE WILL RUIN YOU. Kid who's watched Pitch Perfect too many times: There's an aca–rager next week.

Answer D: Blarney Stone is like a second home at this point.

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word on the STREET



anticipated this day. I have always kept a mental benchmark about how long it’s been since it happened: a month, three months, six months, and now, an entire year. I spent last week in anxiety, agonizing over how to react. It was either going to be a forced disregard of the fact or an overwhelming flux of emotions and thoughts, but no in–between. I considered the first option: pretending today held nothing significant. But I found that choice disturbing—it has only been a year—because it is too soon. So I decided to let the thoughts play. It was hard, but I revisited the moments before it happened. Looking back, I barely paid any attention to you at the time. There were so many moments that semester when you voiced your anguish and your frustrations, and I dismissed them as trivial. Knowing what I do now, I understand why you did what you did, and I eventually came to accept that nobody deserves to be hard on themselves for what happened. But there are sometimes moments of regret and self–loathing where I must reconcile with the fact that I am nowhere near as good of a person as I once thought I was. I always looked forward to talking to you because you always saw the best in me and made me feel so much greater than I actually was. But when you needed me the most, I was not there. I missed you by several hours and for that, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. Sometimes, I found myself agonizing over what a human life represents and what human relationships even mean. Too often, my mind spiraled down a rabbit hole of questions, questions that have no resolve. Routine, everyday activities became a burden. I struggled to find pleasure in the mundane: day–to–day interactions and social conventions acted only as a thin mask veiling a world that was broken. I’ve experienced something that has shaken my fundamental worldview, and everyone around me is still mired in the insignificant. How can be people be so mentally devoted to winning pointless arguments or making peers feel inferior when there are people around them who are suffering, deeply suffering? All these little things are so irrelevant compared to the pain I felt and that I see other people feel. The world no longer made sense; it became nonsensical, disturbing even. At times I feel as though I am stuck in a backwards pit, alone in the dark, yearning to crawl out. In some ways most of my life now has become a distraction; mental and social activities flood my calendar as forms of escape from deeper, fundamental truths. Although I no longer question why you did what you did, there are times when I wish you waited—my god, I wish you waited. Not only just for a few more


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ANGELA NI hours so we could have grabbed dinner for the last time, but also for the darkness to pass. It is so easy in those dark moments to convince yourself that you are alone, and that this suffering you are going through is eternal. I wish you waited for better days. Sometimes it bereaves me, how this world is filled with so much pain and suffering. I like to think that within it, there are moments of quiet beauty. We let those moments speak to us and we give to the world what we find in those moments. Olivia, I wish you could have seen the beautiful day outside and the waves

at Penn’s Landing, where I sat on this anniversary for hours, reflecting on your life. It’s easy to think that a human life doesn’t matter, that when someone dies the world keeps going and life moves on without pause. I have felt this on many occasions, but Olivia, I wish you could have seen how much you mattered to me after you left, and I wish I had expressed more of it earlier. I wish you could have seen how I broke at the news of your death. I wish you could have seen how I collapsed and could not function—how I could not eat or sleep properly for days, weeks, even a month afterward. I wish you could have seen me after Hey Day and even at recent Feb Club events, crying alone in my room because I realize that you were not there. I wish you could have seen how much I don’t want to think of you, but still do—there is scarcely a day that goes by where I don’t think of you. Remember that time we were in the Museum of Modern Art? We tried to look like we were engaged but really we knew nothing about art. We posed just so that we could take artsy pictures. It was so lame, but you did

Reflections on the year since it happened.

it with me anyway. What about that time that summer when we sat on a bench and talked for hours? Our future seemed so vast and so unknown. Life didn’t seem to make sense to either of us, and we contemplated how our time with people was fleeting, but by the end of that afternoon, we had concluded that we would both be in New York together after graduation, and that there would be many more adventures to come. That afternoon, and throughout other conversations, I learned about your hopes and aspirations, all the way from jobs and grad schools to the type of boy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It sometimes pains me deeply that now, this future is forever lost. When you died, it died with you—a part of me died with you. Every day I get subconscious associations of you. I imagine the snarky comments you would have made at my current MGMT 100 experience. I imagine how you would have fiercely told me to stop distracting myself with these sad, unfruitful emotions. You would have made a composed but embarrassed face at the emotions I am feeling about you and told me to go back to focusing on schoolwork. And then you would have come back and given me an awkward hug and told me how secretly you were glad that I cared. There are so many times when I want to reach out to you on a note that only you could understand. So many times I wanted to recommend a movie to you I knew you would take to heart and actually watch. So many times I wanted to invite you to go with me to a new restaurant whose food we would drool over. So many times I wanted to converse with you on an issue that I knew annoyed or bothered us both. So many times I wanted to share a joke with you that I knew would make you laugh. Instead, I linger by myself alone, reminded that you are not there. I wish I could say that I feel your presence but most of the time all that’s left is a gust of twisted emotions and conscious emptiness—there is nothing. I am beyond thinking that things happen for a reason, or that good comes from the bad. To me that is too cliché, too naïve, and too demeaning. I am beyond thinking that this experience has made me “stronger” or a “better person.” In a lot of aspects, this experience has done neither; rather, it has made me more selfish and entitled about my feelings. In general, blanket statements describing the effect of your death on my personality and on my life are hard to make. Your death is complicated, easily distorted, and garbled in layers of emotion. I sometimes cannot make out what to say, but one thing to me is clear: I wish it never happened and I wish you were still here, Olivia.


FIGHT TRUMP WITH FLING The proceeds from Make America Fling Again hats will be donated to the ACLU.

A red baseball cap with white text across the front. If you’re like the average Penn student, such a hat probably makes you reflexively think of President Trump and his campaign. Now, that symbol has a new meaning. Jason Choi (W ’17) and Max Wu (C ’17), two international students from China, are selling hats that say MAKE AMERICA FLING AGAIN and donating the proceeds to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Hats are available on their their website. The hats are intended to parody the infamous MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN

hats that many wore in support of the current president. Jason and Max conceived of the idea to contribute to the ACLU after the travel ban of seven countries was passed in early 2017. As citizens of China, they could not vote in the U.S. presidential election. In the aftermath of the election they felt helpless, but decided to raise money to combat the rising nationalist sentiment and intolerance they saw and experienced. Jason and Max chose to donate money to the ACLU, which sued the White House over the first travel ban and plans to do so for the revised


version. “We wanted to raise more awareness among the international community as to how important this issue is,” Jason said. Even though international students are often unable to participate in American politics, Jason doesn't want the international community to be disengaged. For this reason, Max and Jason decided to pair their cause with Fling to attract the attention of Penn students. Jason mentioned that a few people have wondered if the hats will be mistaken for unironic MAGA hats from afar,

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which is part of their satirical nature. “That’s why we’re trying our very best to make sure people know what this campaign is,” he said, “and we’re confident in the intelligence and the temperament of the Penn community to understand what it is before they lash out in anger.” In this way, the hats are somewhat of a meta–lesson in tolerance, because people may have to reevaluate their first reaction upon seeing the familiar white–text–on-red–hat. As someone who has lived in America, China, and Britain, Jason is concerned with the

rising nationalist sentiment he has seen in all three countries. After the recent U.S. election, this summer's Brexit vote, and a controversial election in Hong Kong that instated a politician from Beijing, he was troubled by the prolific political turmoil. “As an international student, I’m all for diversity and all for inclusiveness,” he said. “Because I was born in the U.K. and lived in Hong Kong, which is very much an international city, I strongly identify as international.”


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Street's former hbic returns one last time. JACKIE LAWYER Street: What activities are you involved in? Emily Johns: I am officially the least active or involved ego of the week that there has ever been. I was Editor–in–Chief of 34th Street and I was in SDT. Neither of those things apply currently. Street: What are you most proud of during your time at Street? EJ: I’m proud of a lot of things. I think the most, the single thing that we did that I’m the most proud of is the election reflection issue, for a lot of reasons. Obviously it meant a lot to a lot of people, it touched a lot of people... we pulled it completely out of our asses and put it together within six hours. Everyone worked on it together, it was really collaborative, it made everyone really happy. It gave people a purpose in a time where everyone was like crying at their desks. And then it got such an amazing response from alumni that it just made me feel really good and all the copies are

gone. There’s not even one on the wall of the office and I don’t have one for myself because everyone wanted a copy. Street: Walk me through the decision to make the Election Reflection issue, it was pretty last minute, right? EJ: The day after the election, I had a midterm at like three, that I hadn’t studied for and I spent the entire day studying for my exam and I was like, 'I don’t know what we’re going to do about Street, but I can’t deal with Street until I take this exam.' So, I didn’t talk to anyone about it or deal with it, I took the exam, walked out of the exam, called Mikaela (Ed. note: Mikaela is the former Managing Editor of Street) and was like, ‘What the fuck are we going to do?’ because it just didn’t really feel appropriate to run our normal content the day after something that like, for a lot of people on this campus, including me and staff, it felt like it had kind of shaken them up so badly that it didn’t feel right to like run

the Round–Up and to shit on the normal stuff because everything didn’t really feel normal. Basically, we had two options. One was run the normal issue and talk about the election in my letter, and the other was to do something totally different. Because of the ads, you can never just like pull everything, and obviously that would have been the ideal thing to just like cancel it, but like, not possible. Mikaela and I were just like, 'What if we just crowdsource a bunch of stories, we can write them.' We did not think that we would get—we didn’t even think we’d fill the pages. We were like, 'We will be lucky if we get enough to like stretch it to fill the print issue,' but I talked to Eric Jacobs (Ed. note: the General Manager of the DP) and he let me do it. Within like thirty minutes of putting up that status we got so many responses...then we just published everything we got and flooded the website and it was really cool. Street: Did you have to deal with any sort of backlash while you 37 N. 3rd St. Philadelphia, PA 6

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were EIC? EJ: What kind? What category? Street: Literally anything, were there any lawsuits coming at you? Friends being angry? EJ: Okay, yes. I had to deal with the most annoying people. Like constantly—the best is the people who used to write—like who had once wrote stuff for us and it’s been five years into their lives after Penn and they just email me being like, ’Hey, I just googled myself and I noticed that this article shows up, can you take it down?’ No. And they don’t realize that you can’t so that’s just fundamentally annoying. I had a couple crazy parents. I, in terms of friends being mad at me, the only time was one time a frat that I have friends in, had their pledging in the Round–Up and they were borderline in trouble with nationals so they kind of flipped out at me. With SDT, the President of SDT would always be like, ‘every Thursday morning, I wake up and check the roundup at eight a.m. because I’m terrified that you’re going to ruin us.’ The best backlash is like all the boys at

Smokes that use it to shit on you. Like they use it to hit on you, but if it doesn’t go their way, then they use it to shit on you. It’s kind of fucking great. Street: Why do you think a publication like Street is important? EJ: I think it’s like, it gives a platform for students voices which is like always what we say Street should be, right? It should be a place for students to express themselves and to find other students expressing things that they can relate to, or that challenge their views. I think if you took Street away, like where would people do that on campus? The DP is news and there’s the opinions section but aside from that, like where are students expressing themselves in written words about anything? Everything else is pretty specialized and I think Street is sort of like a catch–all. I think the election issue is a really good personification of that, like it allowed people to put their voices somewhere where other people could see it. Read more online at



WHITNEY And no, we're not talking Whitney Houston.

There are two types of music in this world: music that you listen to, and music that defines you. If you want to get to know me, my list's short and sweet: The Format, alt–J, The 1975, The War On Drugs. I thought I had the whole music thing figured out. Then, one abnormally beautiful day in March sitting on Rodin Field, I listened to "Golden Days" for the first time, and that’s when I learned that there’s a third category: music that changes you. The list for that is even shorter: Whitney. No, not Houston. This self–described "country– soul," indie–rock Americana band went and did it for me— so much so that I’m in their top 1% of listeners on Spotify. I guess you could say I’m a changed girl. Flashback to 2013: Smith Westerns, of "Weekend" fame, calls it quits. Frontman Cullen Omori goes solo, pushing a poppier, single–heavy debut album New Misery (which he told Street all about). Meanwhile, drummer Julian Ehrlich and guitarist Max Kakacek are in Chicago planning their next move: a six–piece band they call Whitney. They release two singles: "No Woman" and the aforementioned "Golden Days."

They blew away anyone and everyone with a heartbeat at SXSW 2016. They've achieved critical fame for their sounds– like–summer feel, nostalgic optimism, no–walls emotion and above all, singular sound that has you reminiscing of better days. Oh, and they also play the trumpet. What’s more: they closed out iconic NYC record store Other Music’s record release parties, received invites to every major festival of the summer and sold out worldwide (I saw them in London and New York!). What all that means: I saw them live three times––to me, they’re a pretty big deal. Light Upon The Lake is one of those albums that you have to listen to start to finish. The combination of Julian Ehrlich’s borderline falsetto vocals and vulnerable lyrics coupled with Kakacek’s mind–blowing guitar takes you on an 8–track journey of heartbreak, happiness, love and loss in under 30 minutes that you wish would never end. And what’s cool is that the lyrics don’t tell you how to feel—the music’s so captivating that Light Upon The Lake will easily morph into the soundtrack to your life. It’s the perfectly imperfect companion for every waking moment. "No Woman" tells the

story of the post–breakup train ride—can you think of a more wrenching scene?— with a guitar solo you need to hear live to truly believe. It’s impossible not to sing along to "Golden Days," the song about the search for exactly that—the nostalgia ridden, toe–tapping acoustic guitar gets you craving a life in the Midwest on a ranch, which you didn't even know you wanted. "No Matter Where We Go" is a song of unadulterated optimism. It’s about the present, the love of your life, the time of your life,

however you want to spin it— just get in your car, press play, and I can guarantee you’ll be feeling all the feelings. You could say "Dave’s Song" is about the desire to connect, but Ehrlich revealed it’s more of a joke about their neighbor. Oh, and if you’re craving the trumpet, fire up the instrumental, jazzy "Red Moon" asap. Words don’t do justice to how good "Polly" really is, so I’ll leave that for you to experience firsthand. The final track, "Follow," is the epitome of nostalgia about letting the

one you love go, with a hint of a can’t–be–contained optimism that’ll leave you wistful for the masterpiece of an album you just heard—and that’s reason enough to give Light Upon The Lake another go (or two, or three, or four). And then buy your tickets for their May 22 show at Union Transfer, after which you just won’t be the same. I mean, I'm not...



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CHEF ON CAMPUS Alpha Phi’s Chef Says You DO have the Time to Cook

Claire Phelan didn’t know sorority chefs existed until she got the job. After three or so years hosting pop dinners, catered events and cooking lessons in New York City, the 28–year–old found herself moving to Philly with her partner. Though she continues to organize themed dining events, the lesser demand in Philly (not as strong


in New York where food is more expensive) left her with the time to still cook more. When her neighbor, and fellow chef, recommended her to Penn’s Alpha Phi Sorority earlier this school year, Claire took the opportunity without hesitation. Now five days out of the week, she commutes to campus in the

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early afternoon and begins the four hour cooking process. Cooking dinner—as well as stocking the pantry with breakfast—for 20 girls in the chapter is a challenge she takes seriously and with creativity. Claire said she rarely practices the meals before hand and is proud of all of her creations unless something goes terribly wrong. Judging


by her Instagram, she has made everything from buffalo cauliflower to lava cakes to homemade mini bagels with lox. “I just read recently that the average food blogger spends 32 minutes posing food to take their picture. I was like what? I spend an average of two minutes. You can’t eat it then if the food has gone cold,” Claire said. With her ambitions to start a restaurant in Philly, we decided to take note of Claire’s chef secrets before she leaves University City. By the end we were left with a hunger, not merely for food, but also to cook and share the art and joy with others. Street: When did cooking become a serious hobby for you? Claire Phelan: I have always been interested in eating. That is how people get interested in cooking...I have always been into hospitality and throwing dinner parties especially in college. I went to Bard [College] which has this joke article about it in The Onion or something about it being the number one for dinner parties. But our dining hall, I think, is rated one of the worst in the country. I like saw them unloading boxes of meat once that had “Grade D” on them which I did not know you could serve to people. So I decided to learn to cook because I was destroying my stomach going to the dining hall.

Street: I think Penn is supposed to have some of the best dining hall food, yet most students still feel like they are destroying their stomachs whenever they go to Commons. Cooking from home can be so time–consuming though that we often just order take out. Claire: The "no time" thing is a myth. The year I learned to cook, I was writing a 150–page thesis on top of a regular course load and was involved in the leadership of three different clubs. It’s how you prioritize—I made it a way to de–stress, would often have friends come hang out with me slash study in the background and then we’d all have dinner. Also, I know it sounds improbable now, but right now is the most free time you’re going to have in your daily life, so take advantage of it. Learning to cook in between working full–time and getting enough sleep slash self–care slash social time is very difficult. Street: What did you do after graduation? Claire: I started working professionally like three years ago in New York. I was the typical underemployed liberal arts grad. I majored in human rights and decided that I didn’t want to work in non–profit, so I was actually working in fashion at the time I started cooking.

Read more online at


From Food Truck to Storefront Although there’s no shortage of fusion cuisines in Philadelphia, Hawaiian food (which is by nature, fusion) never had a permanent home in this city. However, that changed earlier this spring when Kiki Aranita and Chris Vacca expanded their fusion food truck business to include a permanent storefront in Rittenhouse Square. Poi Dog Philly started out in Headhouse Square as a food truck serving a variety of foods like Hawaiian plates, Filipino desserts and butter mochi—and finally has a place to call home at 106 S. 21st Street. While some may classify Poi Dog as “Hawaiian” for convenience, Poi Dog owner Kiki Aranita disagrees a bit with that classification. There is a strong correlation between the ethnically and racially mixed population of Hawaii, Kiki herself, and the character of food. In fact, Poi Dog’s name alludes to the history and different cuisines that influence their menu. “I would say we (Poi Dog) are Hawaiian–ish—not re-

ally Hawaiian. Poi Dog means mixed breed or mutt and refers to people and of course, dogs. My own background makes me a poi dog—my great grandparents and grandparents lived and worked on Hawaii's sugarcane plantations (the last of which just closed recently on Maui). Hawaii's plantations have been responsible for the hybrid cuisine of Hawaii— what we call "local food" and what our restaurant's cuisine is based on—since workers arrived in the islands from China, the Philippines, Japan, Okinawa, Portugal's Azores and so on, bringing their many different cuisines.” This mix of culture is seen throughout Poi Dog’s menu, which includes Filipino style adobo, poke bowls, mochi, and Hawaiian style pig and cabbage. According to Kiki, the most filling items on the menu are the combo lunch plates, which go for about $13 a plate. All plates come with rice and mac salad. The most popular entree is the Mochi Nori Fried Chicken with togarashi–yuzu

mayo and the most traditional Hawaiian one is the Kalua Pig & Cabbage. Both of these can be purchased on a platter together for $13. For those looking for a lighter meal, Kiki says that the Spicy Ahi Poke made with fresh ahi is another customer favorite. At a catered event I had the opportunity to try the Kalua Pig and Cabbage and Chicken Long Rice. These items were savory, comforting

and had such a great mix of flavors. While being the first food truck and restaurant in Philly to offer Hawaiian options is definitely an accomplishment and great title to hold, the presence of this restaurant means a lot to the Hawaiian community at Penn. Kaliko Zabla-Moore (C’19) is from Hawaii, is active in both Hawaii Club and Natives at Penn

and says that “It [Poi Dog] is a good representation of local food back home. It is also rare to find Hawaiian food on the East Coast and even more rare to find a person from Hawaii doing the cooking.” Poi Dog adds diversity to Philly’s restaurant scene that’s rare to find, but easy to welcome with open arms and hungry stomachs. ANDREAS PAVLOU


BEER OF THE WEEK: stone ipa

BEER CLASSIFICATION: india pale ale BEER HISTORY: Stone’s West Coast attitude influences this classic British Style. golden beauty explodes with tropical, citrusy, piney hop flavors and aromas, all perfectly balanced by a subtle malt character FAMILIAR: Ballast Point Sculpin, Green Flash IPA GREAT WITH: Ten Spiced Wings are a match made in beer heaven FUN FACT: Stone, a West Coast beer icon, is building a brewery in Virginia

“Anyone who knows me knows that I love beer. I’m a regular at City Tap House, but normally steer clear of the IPAs. And so, today when I sat down and was given a Stone IPA to try I had a feeling similar to when your math teacher says “everyone clear your desks.” However, when I first tasted the brew I was overcome with a different emotion, more similar to sweet relief when you wake up to a text from your friends at Penn Police saying that everyone can take the day off thanks to a light sprinkle of snow. A feeling of relief, almost nirvana. The Stone IPA is still a hoppy drink, but a nice IPA for someone looking to try something new, experiment in college, with its smooth citrus taste.

Ryan Greenberg Senior in Zbt, studying physics and comp sci.

This beer is a classic west coast beer, and next year when I move to the west coast I’ll be a classic west code nerd; still looking for roommates for SF though so hit me up if you are too.” A P R I L 2 0 , 2 017 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E




students meet the criteria for an Alcohol Use Disorder. And yet despite the statistics, Penn acts as if college alcoholism isn’t real. It’s hard— almost impossible—to draw the line between alcoholism and social drinking at a school where “work hard, play hard” is more of an imperative than a tagline.


yan answers the video call shirtless, sprawled on his bed at home in New Jersey. He decided to take this semester off in December, after he realized he had a drinking problem. “I definitely label myself as an alcoholic now,” he says. “But the way you picture an alcoholic growing up and—I don’t want to say portrayed in the media, or whatever, but the picture you get is like a 40 or 50–year–old person that’s just, like, drunk off their ass every day and just sits in their house

and drinks beer and scotch and I dunno, beats their kids or something—like that’s how I picture an alcoholic or someone with an alcohol problem. Not a decently well–functioning college student, especially when you put it in the reference of Penn and what the drinking culture is at Penn.” He pauses, sits up. “So I definitely had to step back before I could accurately label myself as that.” The label is important, says Noelle Melartin, who has been the Director of the Office of Alcohol and Other Drugs for the past seven years. She emphasizes the difference between alcoholism—“a general, nonclinical term which is used to describe the use of alcohol that is harmful”—and Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD), a medical condition diagnosed when problem drinking “becomes severe.” In her office on Locust Walk, she refers to a printed list of eleven criteria to assess whether someone has AUD. In the past year, have you: Had times when you ended up drinking more, or longer than you intended? the list includes. Have you spent a lot of time drinking? “A lot of students may be surprised that they meet at least two of these,” she says. “Many students won’t, but given the type of drinking that can occur on a college campus, many students will find they meet these criteria.” Ryan’s been meeting these criteria for a while— blacking out more and more until “the crescendo–ing up,” he says. “So then junior fall, by the end of it, I was just a mess. I was all over the place, drinking probably four times a week at least, maybe five. It was a lot. It was for sure a lot.” Sometimes Ryan feels like he’s swimming. His head crushes under the weight of “an overwhelming sense of hopelessness,” he says, a futility that paralyzes him. He can’t focus on any single thing. There are hours and hours—late nights, mornings—when he lies in bed, doing nothing, feeling useless. And so for him, drink-

ing “does pretty much what it does for everybody else.” It’s a coping mechanism. “I’m definitely a social drinker,” he says. “But like, I would never just drink alone in my room with a bottle of tequila or something, like I can recognize that that’s sad and weird. But like, Kweder on Tuesday, then Sink or Swim on Wednesday, then Thursday there’s always something to do, then Friday, Saturday’s the weekend. So like, that fills up your week pretty quickly.” He didn’t think his behavior was unusual. He had a rotating cast of people he went out with; a couple members of his fraternity checked in to see if he was alright, but for the most part, nobody suggested his drinking was problematic. “My friends at school know what my habits are,” he says. Ryan sighs. “So at that point, it’s up to them to decide what they think.” At what he calls his “forte”—his peak level of drinking, towards the end of last semester— Ryan’s not sure how many drinks he downed in an average night. “Fifteen?” he says, counting on his fingers. “Upwards of that? Definitely not thirty, but I dunno, twenty sounds reasonable.” Ryan still drinks. Ryan thinks he’ll continue to drink throughout his life—maybe twice a week after he graduates, or more if he goes to happy hours. He still goes out, but he’s changed his habits, “which personally, I don’t think is anyone’s business,” he adds. He gives himself an upper limit of eight or ten drinks over a four hour period, “which isn’t crazy,” he says. “Not at all.”


ast fall, Ryan opened his eyes, saw the tan cover of his pillowcase and he knew he was okay. He was in his own bed—groggy, not totally sure what he’d done last night, but he was all right. He shook off the hangover: grabbed food from Allegro, went to class. Then

his phone blinked with texts from two of his friends: “u okay?” They’d seen him sprinting down Locust at 1:30 that morning, laughing to himself. Ryan had vague memories from the previous night: the senior society smoker open bar, where he’d ordered two pitchers of Long Islands, the unremarkable half hour at Smokes’, where he says he was “just chilling, not off the wall or anything.” Two weeks later, at a disciplinary hearing, the chief of Penn Police filled in the details that Ryan had blacked out. He had wandered to the edge of campus, near Drexel, and passed out on a porch. The police came—he’s not sure if it was Penn Police or Philadelphia Police, but he knows they took his wallet, his IDs, and that they insisted he get in an ambulance. Ryan hadn’t wanted to pay the hospital bill and felt fine in his head, but the police kept telling him, get in, get in. “Alright, alright,” Ryan murmured. “Fair, fair, fair.” He started walking towards the ambulance, down the porch stairs he didn't recognize. Then he shoved a police officer in the chest and darted through an active intersection— past cars, through the center of campus. Back to Smokes’. That was a wake up call to him— a moment he can point to as something he never would have done sober, something indicative of a problem. Alanna* (C’18), an alcoholic who’s eight months sober, has had “so many” of these moments. She calls them red flags. Like the time she visited an older cousin who

went to Penn and, at age fourteen, was MERTed. Her face was marbled black and blue from hitting the toilet seat. Like the family member’s wedding, where she blacked out by midnight —“I treated the night like I’d be drinking at Penn,” she says—and passed out face down in the food. Like the first date with her boyfriend of a year and a half, when she passed out at the bar, asleep with her hand dipped in a drink. He had to carry her home over his shoulder. Like the hundreds of blackouts she’s had at Penn— two to three times a week, every week, for two years. Like any of the “funny, weird, outrageous shit I’d do fucked up,” she says. “And I’d always get texts the next morning like, oh my god, you were so funny last night, and I’d be like, what did I do?” “I wish there would just be a different narrative about this kind of stuff,” she says. “Instead of you war–storying about doing these kinds of things.” A few weeks ago, Alanna came home after dinner and walked in on her roommate sitting in a circle with some of her sorority sisters, trading embarrassing drunk stories. “This didn’t seem weird to anyone else,” Alanna says. “To me, that that was like, why is this a bonding activity? Why are we normalizing these behaviors? That kind of rubbed me the wrong way.” Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, she says, are the complete inverse. “You flip the narrative on

its head,” she says. “Instead of it being the cool thing that you’re proud of, it’s actually something that everyone can relate to and see as a bad thing.”



lanna wishes there were a student AA group at Penn. She goes to meetings at 41st and Walnut, but says it’s hard being thirty years younger than everyone else in the room. The Office of Alcohol and Other Drugs (AOD) refers students to a number of different services—including Quaker Peer Recovery, a student recovery community launched last year that offers support services to students recovering from “substance use disorders, mental health illness, and other quality of life concerns,” according to the group’s website. The Office also focuses on harm reduction strategies, including a brief intervention called First Step. It’s mandatory for students who have been MERTed, but Melartin stresses that anyone can walk in and receive confidential counseling.



ometimes Ryan* (E’18) woke up outside. Dust pressing into his palms. Puffs of wind and a sharp crack of sun, the ache of a hangover starting to sprout in his skull. Two months before he started to classify himself as an alcoholic, he passed out against a fence at a darty and had to be carried home; a year and a half before, he woke up on the ground in the middle of Made in America with bruises purpling his back. Two and a half years before, he got MERTed when he peed on the side of Allegro; three years before, he went out for the first time at Penn, a rainy Chancellor darty where he cradled a handle and poured vodka shots into the mouths of strangers, one after another after another. The summer before his freshman year of college, Ryan blacked out for the first time after a dizzy night that started with Four Loko and ended with a blur. It was around then Ryan first heard the expression: “It’s not alcoholism until you graduate college.” That saying would follow him to Penn. A joke between his fraternity brothers. A whisper at Smokes’. And there are the tacit reminders, the hints that echo in Snapchat stories and in GroupMes and in the music we close our eyes and chug our Solo cups to at the pregames: “I drink too much and it’s an issue but I’m okay.” According to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, about 20% of college


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But to Alanna, AOD is “out of touch.” She beats her fist on the table as she talks. “I know two people that are clean right now…I really wish there were more people that I could actually talk to.” Last fall, Ryan went in for an AOD intervention after calling Student Intervention Services when he was “ feeling particularly suicidal,” he says. “I don’t know how in tune they are—I don’t really think they understand what the drinking culture is at Penn. Like they give you tips that aren’t, I don’t want to say not helpful, but they kind of just don’t get it, like their suggestion for somebody of my height and weight is to go out and have, like, three or four drinks a night. That’s not even a pregame.” He laughs so hard his chest shakes. “Drinking to get drunk is the point,” Ryan says. “Why else would I drink?”

Penn Culture Both Ryan and Alanna say their drinking would have been different if they didn’t go to Penn. in clubs [on campus] that are pretty much "I think I still would have had a problem,” just drinking clubs. The whole point is to get Alanna says, “but I really think the fucked up.” environment at Penn was a huge contributor “I think I would have thrived at a state to my problem. Undoubtedly.” She closes her school,” Ryan laughs. “You can put that eyes, repeats: “Undoubtedly.” quote in there.” “I feel like the social scene at Penn, everything you do actually revolves "So I didn’t really flag any of my around drinking. So I didn’t really flag behavior because everyone else any of my behavior was doing it as well, and it’s such because everyone Alanna loved else was doing it as a thing here that when you acturehab. well, and it’s such “In a kind of sick ally get out of the Penn bubble, a thing here that way,” she says. “It when you actually you kinda realize that, like, how was really hard at get out of the Penn times but it was, I people drink at Penn is actually bubble, you kinda don’t know, it was realize that, like, not indicative of the real world." like summer camp how people drink for drug addicts.” at Penn is actually She voluntarily not indicative of checked into rehab last summer. Coming the real world. It’s grotesque.” back to Penn was “crazy.” “I was kind of repulsed,” she says. “And I’m trying not to be judgmental about this, “Drinking a lot, getting super fucked I really am, but I really feel like I got an up—that’s how people know you’re sick,” incredibly new perspective coming back, and Ryan says. “Like, that’s kind of a thing. I’m going to things that I thought I would still enjoy. But when you’re at the late night, and

Rehab & Recovery:

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it’s like 3 a.m. and everyone else is plastered around you and you’re sober, you feel like a stranger. You feel like a complete outsider.” Alanna still goes out—“Fuck yeah, I still go out,” she says—but she’s aware of her limits. Smokes’ is alright, if she orders a club soda and walks around with it for the night; downtowns are a no. She won’t go to Fling this year. Instead, she’ll write, see a show, maybe even head home to New York. Ryan’s coming back to Penn next semester. But he’s scared. The semester off has helped him to refocus, re–prioritize, he says, but he hasn’t gotten any practice in “not drinking when there’s pressure to drink.” “Like my mom isn’t going to be passing me a Natty and be like, ‘yo, chug this,’” he says. “So yeah, I’d say I’m a little bit nervous about actually putting this into practice and hitting the ground running, so to speak.” He pauses. “I have to get it right from the first week.” He’s had a bit of practice, visiting campus a few times this semester—for rush, a frat date night, St. Patty’s. He's looking forward to Fling, on his terms.

*Names have been changed due to the sensitivity of the piece.




It feels like every week some new feature or function pops up on your Instagram feed or Snapchat gets rid of a filter. Updates happen quickly and frequently on social media services and with finals coming up, it’s becoming harder and harder to keep up. Here’s a quick review of all the changes that were made or announced recently: 1. YOU CAN NOW SEARCH SNAPCHAT STORIES BY CONTENT By using the search bar on the home page of the app, you can find stories related to a particular topic which have been added to Our Story. This update went live in certain cities on March 31. Why? Let’s say you want to see videos from Fling, a concert, game or some other event, or you just want to watch cute animals. This feature makes it a lot easier to do so. It also makes it easier to sort through the plethora of Snaps posted to Our Story. Why not? Because how often do you want to search for a particular type of story? Most people use Snapchat for keeping up to date on friends and celebrities, in which case you want to see everything they post, not just particular stories. In addition, you can only search snaps which have been posted to our Our Story, which

What’s changing, why it’s changing and why we’re mad about it

Why not? We have a zillion other apps for posting stories, including the original app, Snapchat. Facebook’s stories come on the heels of Instagram stories, which are overwhelming, unnecessary and blatantly copying Snapchat, making people unlikely to view or post their stories to Facebook.

of behavior, or prevent the new image from becoming associated with that type of behavior. 5. FACEBOOK MESSENGER ALLOWS YOU TO SHARE YOUR LOCATION LIVE WITH FRIENDS

Live Location allows individual friends or groups to track your location for up to an hour, although you can stop sharing your location before the hour is 4. TWITTER GETS RID OF THE EGG up. Messenger also provides you Twitter has changed the with estimates of how far you are default profile picture from from your friends by car. the egg with one of seven different background colors to a Why? gray silhouette of a person. This makes it easier to find and meet up with friends, on Why? or off–campus. It also makes it The change to a blander easier to keep track of or keep image is Twitter's attempt to an eye on friends or family incentivize people to upload when you’re concerned about a profile picture. their safety. In addition, the egg icon Why not? had become associated with While you can stop sharing abuse and harassment. your location at any point, it Why not? can cause safety issues if you Changing the default phodon’t want that specific person to doesn’t actually address to know where you are at any any of the issues related to given time in the hour. It makes abuse or harassment. And it information sensitive to perdoesn’t do anything to stop, sonal security too readily availprevent or reduce that kind able.

means it’s only useful if Our 3. FACEBOOK ADDS STORIES Story has what you’re looking for. Following its other apps Instagram, Facebook Messen2. TWITTER’S NEW ger and WhatsApp, Facebook REPLIES MEANS TAGGING has added stories to its moPEOPLE WON’T COST YOU bile app. The Snapchat–like CHARACTERS stories will now appear above the News Feed. This update Twitter has changed its re- came with a new in–app camplies so that users’ handles era and Direct, a private meswon’t appear in the actual saging function. According to text of the tweet, but above it The Verge, this is the biggest as metadata. This means that recent update to Facebook. their handles won’t count as part of the allocated 140 Why? character limit for tweets. In This gives users more opaddition, now users can tag tions for what they post, how up to 50 people in their re- they post, and where to post plies. it. Facebook can’t stand the Why? competition from Snapchat. This is part of Twitter’s ini- If you can’t buy ‘em, join ‘em. tiative to help you make the most of your 140 characters and is supposed to make renot sure if you(r phone) will make it through fling? ply threads easier to follow. Why not? This makes removing people, including yourself, from reply tags a lot harder. In Laptops, Laser printer, cell phones, addition, counting the usernames in the tweet discourtablets aged users from tagging more people than they needed to. Now, you can tag up to 50 Students, Faculty, Staff, Personal ItemS 3944 Chestnut St, Philadelphia, PA,19104 people with no consequencDepartmental Services Done on Site es. That makes it easier to get people unnecessarily involved in conversations, or (215) 387-5900 Free tempered glass for your phone get dragged into conversafor signing in at the store! tions yourself. Also, 50 people? When 576645 will you ever need to tag 50 people?



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GREGORY COLLEGE HOUSE The Rave isn't the only theater on campus... Cinemark isn’t the only movie theatre on Penn’s campus, and the residents of Gregory know it better than anyone else. Movies are screening for free and we’re all unknowingly missing out. Film enthusiasts of all sorts—ranging from Cinema Studies majors to engineers—gather at Gregory College House to appreciate good films and brew reflective discus-

sions afterwards. Penn’s Film Culture program, created in 2003, is rooted in the Gregory House’s theatre, where around 150 movies are screened per year, ranging from Star Wars to La Grand Ilusion. Prior to the founding of the program, there was a growing student interest in a film program. Dr. Christopher Donovan, a Cin-

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ema Studies professor at Penn and the resident House Dean of Gregory, believed the Gregory House seemed like a fertile ground to begin the program. Since then, the program has become a part of the culture of the house; some freshmen apply to Gregory specifically for its film program, but it's open

to anyone who is residing in the house. In its early days, the program was very top–down, with the House Dean and faculty selecting all of the films. Since then, the program has evolved to be more student–driven, which suits the collective nature of Gregory as a College House. It is now heavily run by students returning to the program, with three to four film–savvy managers who have stayed in the program since freshman year selecting films and leading discussions. Through the program, students are introduced to a wide range of films, which cover the history of film and the scope of world cinema today. Screenings are held in Gregory’s in–house theatre, a beautiful room with great multi–tiered seating. Due to low ceilings, renovators struggled to place a projector in the room, so they use a massive television screen instead. Donovan admits that he’d prefer a purist projector, but students love the room nonetheless. After the film screenings, discussions are held afterwards which give participants opportunity to analyze and appraise the film. Dr. Donovan says these conversations differ from his Cinema Studies seminars due to their

informality—students don’t receive a lecture or need to know cinema terminology to engage in discussion. The Film Culture program also offers excursions to Philadelphia film venues and incorporates relevant campus and Philly events, including the Penn Student Film Festival and the live Oscar Nominated Short Films screening at the Ritz. The program is unique from other College House Programs, because it has an optional academic credit component (CIMS 180 301). Numbers of students participating in the program for academic credit range from 20–50 students. Dr. Donovan explains, “the academic credit component gives the program its backbone... with an academic focus, you know there will be a certain core group of students that will be plugged into the program each year.” Amanda Reid (C’18) applied to Gregory specifically because she wanted to participate in the Film Program. She was looking for a community that she could “feel comfortable with, bond with, and learn from.” Read more online at LAUREN DONATO


Dissecting a show that treads a fine line between stylism and trite melodrama.

"BIG LITTLE LIES": A POSTMORTEM OF HBO'S NEWEST MELODRAMA HBO’s newest melodrama, Big Little Lies, stars big names like Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, and Shailene Woodley. The miniseries, which concluded earlier this month, is adapted from a novel by Liane Moriarty, and is centered around the show’s thematic mystery: a cruel murder at an ostentatious fundraiser thrown by the Otter Bay Elementary School in Monterey, California. The details of this murder are slowly revealed in collocation with the glossy lives of three mothers, who are all painted as prime suspects in the murder. The mothers, of course, are played Witherspoon, Kidman, and Woodley, whose lives are intertwined because their children all attend the same elite elementary school, which apparently qualifies them as members of the haut monde. Their lives appear to be glazed with perfection, although, as the series progresses, it becomes increasingly more evident that their lives are anything but picture–perfect. Perhaps the most moving plotline is told between Nicole Kidman’s character and her husband, played by Alexander Skarsgård. At the show's beginning, Kidman and Skarsgård appear to have the crème de la crème of relationships: a beautiful home, darling children, happiness, and a shared, undying passion after years of

marriage. As the plot develops, their seemingly refined line begins to crumble, and their passion transforms into volatility and abuse. Skarsgård, unable to control his anger and insecurities, physically assaults his wife when they’re in private. Then, as soon as one of their children darts into the room, the two disturbingly replace their previous façade of perfection. It’s clear that the show was trying to be anything but another Desperate Housewives, but unfortunately, it seems to be exactly that. While Big Little Lies is certainly elevated above Desperate Housewives in both sophistication and aesthetic, it too, at times, devolves into cheap gossip. Any and all exposition is given by other parents of Otter Bay students, whose collective role in the plot development is actually pretty inconsequential. They’re mere pawns, and it doesn’t quite make sense that these uninvolved outsiders would have had access to the very internal details of the main characters’ personal lives. It is this cheap cop–out that brings the show closest to its suburban soap opera counterparts. That being said, many touching and intriguing plots shine through the distracting gossip of the investigation room. Laura Dern plays the type–A Silicon Valley executive who goes absolutely berserk when

it is revealed that her daughter, Amabella, has been physically bullied at school, yet she is unwilling to disclose her abuser. However, when Amabella is strangled on the first day of school, she names the new kid, Ziggy, as the culprit. Ziggy is the son of Woodley’s character, and when Ziggy denies any involvement with the crime, Woodley defends her son and ignites an all–out war between

Witherspoon and Dern. The show employs many of these shocking plotlines to keep you hooked and entertained, slipping hints about death and murder into the dialogue to keep you on your toes. Though the plotline may take some uninspired and flashy turns at times, the show is undeniably entertaining. It was directed by Jean–Marc Vallée, the same man responsible for Dal-

las Buyers Club, and he definitely brings his same touch to this television series. The visual aesthetics are breathtaking, glossy, and captivating, and completely embellished by a fantastic soundtrack. It’s a good drama, and it’s pleasing to both the eye and ear. Catch it on MICHAELA REITANO


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Artist of the Week: Olivia Matlin On a bright–lit Youtube screen, Olivia Matlin (C'18) chews and swallows page after page. This New York native is the creative brain behind Read It and Eat It, an online show that "pushes consumption

of knowledge to the fullest." As an artist, Olivia considers herself as a provocateur and is inspired by cringe comedy and gross–out humor. She's also deeply affected by the books she reads, both intellectually and physically.

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That's where the idea of Read It and Eat It originated. The show's title can be interpreted quite literally: it features Olivia reading and eating a book. Directed by award–winning Cinema Studies majors Arlo Gor-

don (C'18) and Elvire Audi (C'17), the first episode is called "Catcher in the Rye Bread Sandwich." Olivia selected the book because it is a critically acclaimed classical novel and prepared the ingredients based on the title. Juxtaposing the consumption of knowledge and nutrients, Olivia performed a "weird, alternative comedy," a hybrid of SparkNotes book summary and BuzzFeed Tasty video. In the 11–minute episode, Olivia makes a sandwich out of rye bread, turkey, mayonnaise, mustard and book pages from Catcher in the Rye and eats it bits by bits in a pair of silky white gloves and a 1950s style black dress. Presenting to the audience a stark contrast between the image of an innocent and clean housewife and the process of an absurd activity, Olivia successfully integrates messiness and cleanliness, the grotesque and the sublime into one empathetic performance. When editing the video,

Arlo decided to keep the parts where Olivia gagged on the roughness of the paper. In fact, Olivia had consulted with multiple health professionals on the side effects of absorbing fiber and ink. The resulting irresistible realness of book–eating presents the "spectacular aspect of shock value." And this shock factor demonstrates the ultimate dedication of Olivia in expressing how she feels about the book, Arlo comments. "I had no choice. I had to eat the book!" Olivia said. To Arlo, the project's "molding of reading and eating into the most avant garde and shocking way" is unprecedented. In the future, they hope to "establish a brand through this project" and "make it as professional as possible," Olivia adds. Until then, let's keep reading and eating.




Not yo typical magazine Bianca Jimenez (C ‘18) has spent the past semester putting together an art magazine from the ground up. She’s open and easy–going, laughingly referring to her brain child as “one giant experiment.” Appropriately named The Locust Experiment, the magazine launches April 26. “I was influenced by the print culture in London,” Bianca says, “it really gave me aesthetic drive.” She spent fall semester studying at Goldsmiths London, and found herself intrigued by the abundance of highly curated art magazines sold in local convenience stores. Where a 7/11 might have racks of tabloids, Bianca says convenience stores in London had magazines like ID and Dazed. She brought her fascination back to Penn this semester, intending to self–print a magazine featuring student art. After realizing that it is, apparently, the Year of Media, Bianca applied for and received a grant for printing and production expenses. She has a unique opportunity to explore her passion for print culture at Penn. “I want to prove that print isn’t dead!” she says. Along with Carlie Ostrom (W ‘19) and Tiffany Tue (E ‘19), Bianca has organized 20

artists' work into a 60–page book. She intentionally kept her team small, wanting to keep her mag as far from the politics typical of other organizations at Penn (think: rejection, board positions, resume building). Instead of sending out formal emails to secure submissions, Bianca describes her recruiting as a “guerilla tactic” of harassing artists with texts or Facebook messages. “It was kind of an underground thing of chance encounters, like ‘I know this person who knows this person who is doing this,’” she explains. Originally, The Locust Experiment was supposed to be a collection of artists reinterpreting each other's work. For example, a poet could write a poem about a painter’s painting. While the magazine does feature this kind of work, it also features many artists with a particular craft. Bi a n c a sees The Locust Experiment as a gallery s p a c e for artists who wouldn’t otherwise have an opportunity to share their art. “I want to push the ‘make time for your art’ vibe,” she asserts. She wants “[the mag] to be a subtle community built around art, as of an alterna-

"I want to push the ‘make time for your art’ vibe.”

tive safe space for artists.” She’s not trying to tear down the Penn institutional structures, so much as try and contribute an alterna-

tive structure for people who like to do what you like’ and want it. ‘you don’t have to hide.’" Bianca says “I want to send a message to artists ‘there are EMILY RUSH people around [Penn] that

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Open 9 AM - 12 AM, Sun - Wed Open 9 AM - 4 AM, Thurs - Sat 3942 Spruce St. | 215.382.8158 A P R I L 2 0 , 2 017 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 17


THE WORST OF PENN Hoorah for the Red and the Ew.


WORST PERSON TO SEE ON TINDER: Mom or Dad. Is it worse that you saw them or that they will inevitably see you? Let us know.

They don’t actually ask, because it’s an eight–step set–up involving multiple friends, acquaintances, nemeses and TAs. You don't even have this guy on Snapchat, and now he's picking you up while posting memes in his PC GroupMe. You’re considering ways to roll safely out of the Uber but you’re on I–76 now, and it’s too late.

illustrations by Gloria Yuen

Only FIVE 2 BR Apartments available Reduced Rates • Leasing Fast Leases start June 1st or Sept. 1st *Pet Friendly! - No additional charges* 215.222.0222 At Penn, At Home. 1 8 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E A P R I L 2 0 , 2 017

WORST TYPE OF PERSON IN A GROUP PROJECT: His name is Grant. You’re not sure if he’s fully registered in the class, because he’s always skipping it for the interviews and coffee chats that he loudly announces he has to go to. He incessantly wears his P sweater to look put together, but in reality, he just looks like he doesn’t have a washing machine. He offers no help throughout the entire process, but insists that he introduce the group project so that the professor thinks he’s involved. He has one of those touchscreen computers and is obnoxious about it. He disagrees with you “just for the sake of conversation,” even when the conversation is about how they should split up the work. He gets an A in the class.




Any person you recently Facebook, Venmo, LinkedIn, and/or Instagram stalked. Social media stalking is one of life’s greatest pleasures...until you run into that person at Allegro’s at 2 a.m. on a Thursday night and forget that they haven’t told you about their 2009 trip to the DR. You’ll have to ask them about the health of their aunt who broke her wrist in 2013 because you hate yourself. You won’t be able to resist screaming at them about how you agree with their post–election FB post, even though you only became friends in January.

All bathrooms that qualify as a Bathroom With Super Wide Gaps Between The Doors—which is to say, 80% of them. Stay tuned for when the girl who finished before you washes her hands and makes eye contact with you mid–poop through the gap. Hey, Allie!

15% off with this coupon (Expires 5/1) | Not valid with other offers


Order online Dinner Buffet - $12.95 for Pick-up CLASS OF or delivery Student Discounts For Fast Delivery Call 215-386-1941 Lunch Buffet - $9.95


Existing. Between the people flyering, people hustling to class, ex–hookups, and TA’s whose recitations you’ve skipped every week since February, Locust Walk is literal hell. You might get kicked in the face by a dance group or run over by a scooter. It’s a black hole of fake “haven’t seen you in forever we should totally get lunch!” promises and slow–moving tours. You can try to listen to music and keep your head down but eventually you’ll pass someone from your freshman hall and all hope will be lost. Worst part? There’s literally no way to order an Uber and gtfo. Tbh you should just avoid at all costs but if you have class in Steiny D PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Exp.2/23/12 4/11/12 Exp.

2016 Welcome Available with Valid I.D.

Closed Mondays

Buffet • Drinks Specials • Take-out

Exp.2/23/12 4/11/12 Exp.

For Fast Delivery Call 215-386-1941

Book your graduation Exp. 4/11/12 CLASS OF dinner with us! For Fast Delivery Call 215-386-1941 Exp. 2/23/12

2016 Valet Parking Available

1303 DICKINSON STREET PHILADELPHIA, PA 19147 Exp. 4/11/12 Exp. 2/23/12

215-468-3040 For Fast Delivery Call 215-386-1941

The Victor Café Music Lovers’ Rendezvous Live Opera 7 Nights a Week

Serving Penn for over 80 years. Your parents fell in love here, now it’s your turn. Enjoy your meal with live opera performed by our waitstaff. A P R I L 2 0 , 2 017 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E 1 9





Smart Tablets Phones


4438 Chestnut St. 2 0 3 4 T H S T R E E T M A G A Z I N E A P R I L 2 0 , 2 017

215-557-0940 401 N. 21st St.


34th Street Magazine

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