Baccanalia 2005

Baccanalia

2005

When asked about it during the press conference, Abe threw his mangled, still-kicking snack on the table and growled: “No contents.”

Baccanalia 2005 - Anglica’s Yearly Publication Supervision: Anttoni Lehto Supportvision: JP Jokinen and Jukka Kittilä Cover: Satu-Annele Salo Flatrat Comics: Unholy J Other Comics: Holy V Run: 120 At: Digipaino http://org.utu.fi/tyyala/anglica/

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From the Editor Optimists & Pessimists Paraphrase of a fragment from a marvellous novel called The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy:

A man had twin sons, Pete and Stuart. Pete was an Optimist and Stuart was a Pessimist. On their thirteenth birthday their father gave Stuart – the Pessimist – an expensive watch, a carpentry set and a bicycle, and Pete’s – the Optimist’s – room, he filled with horse dung.

When Stuart opened his presents he grumbled all morning. He hadn’t wanted a carpentry set, he didn’t like the watch, and the bicycle had the wrong kind of tires. When the father went to Pete’s – the Optimist’s – room, he couldn’t see Pete, but he could hear the sound of frantic shovelling and heavy breathing.

Horse dung was flying all over the room.

‘What in heaven’s name are your doing?’ the father shouted to Pete.

A voice came from deep inside the dung. ‘Well, Father, if there’s so much shit around, there has to be a pony somewhere!’

After realizing I’d have to write both main columns for this issue, I started thinking about roles. Having a firm notion of the fact that no one wants to read the same horse dung twice, I was faced with an identity dilemma.

Somehow, like Pete and Stuart who

are defined in the story only as being an optimist and a pessimist (and thirteen), I’d have to define myself only as being a chair and an editor-in-chief (and probably too old for both). So now you know why the chair’s bit is going to suck tea leaves. But why the “crappy” story?

I’ll make it short for you: the university is the father, student life is the birthday, you’re supposed to be Pete, and Anglica is the shit shovel with which you go for the pony.

You can quote me on that last one, if you want.

Anttoni 3

Words from the Chair Welcome to another issue of Baccanalia! Our beloved magazine continues on its chosen path of being almost unreadable and funny only by accident. While there’s some new stuff added if compared to last year, you’ll probably recognize at least the same old layout and the same old jokes. By the way, did they ever tell you about the penguin? You see, there was once this penguin that was travelling through Arizona. Suddenly his car starts to lose oil; next thing you know he is eating ice cream with his flippers and then…

Oh well, I bet you got the picture.

I’d better talk sense for a while – after all this is my only chance in this magazine to address the members as Anglica’s Chair and I should make good use of it before everyone falls asleep. Luckily, I’m absolutely certain my next topic will interest you beyond measure as it has a lot to do with all of us! From next autumn onwards, the Bologna process will bring many changes to the curriculum. I think one of the most important ones is the introduction of study points, which will replace… zzz zzz the sausage, slipping from my fingers zzz night ruined zzz zzz before I knew what was happening zzz purple balloons everywhere... zzz and there was even more ballistic evidence zzz the hippo turned to me and smiled zzz zzz ... of course, I was really, really drunk ...which makes smooth

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transitions possible. In other words, I sincerely hope everyone’s wellprepared for the future!

Last but not least, I’d like to take this opportunity at the end of the wrong column to thank the team Jukka and especially JP - in addition to everyone else who contributed to this publication in any way. I’d also like to thank all the board members for a fun spring term; hope there’s still a student organization left when we’re done with it.

In the meantime, have a great summer y’all!

Anttoni

What do YOU think about English students?

Jukka Kittilä

Sami Panttila (unemployed pagan) I prefer Norse.

Kiisu Alen (unemployed atheist) Never shagged one, never want to.

Malla Hänninen (culture history) Don’t they have anything better to do?

Venla Volkloristi I bet they are mighty good in English!

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The Year Gone Bye-Bye Sonja Forsström & Maria Salmijärvi This is supposed to be a recount of the events of the passing year from the firstyears point of view. And that’s it. We, the reigning Party&Culture actives, know best since we were the ones known for never leaving ‘til the last cider was drunk or the last round of something trivial played. So what follows will have nada to do with anything official whatsoever, since all the real action took place after hours or, as in many cases, v-e-r-y early hours. Since the average first-year student was not as enthusiastic about EVERY Anglica event as we were, it is best to keep this simple and only tell what we know.

Freshmen Barbeque @ VY September 3rd Getting to know each other and older Anglicans with some mini-golf and actual barbequing. We two actually properly met and bonded there for the first time and

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decided to set up a sub-organization, Black Anglica, with the ever-so-charming Satu-Annele. The night also included some bald action to play out a perverse fantasy of a certain outrageous female tutor… After both of us had consumed way too much booze, one of us lost her voice and was incapable of bonding any further.

The other one went on bonding and consuming, and ended up spending the night with two (!) not-so-fresh men.

Pilttibileet @ S-Osis - September 8th There ARE other freshmen in the university and S-Osis ain’t that bad a place. One of us didn’t attend, which may have been a wise decision, since the other one joined SHO right there and then (regrets now her drunken writings in the ancient member book…), and one SHO-active Anglica Party&Culture Person is quite enough, wouldn’t you agree? Our dear (outrageous female) tutor, Nikke, rushed to the bathroom after a bunch of her firstyears went there to enjoy some own refreshments. Poor Nikke thought we were going for some eightsome and oh, how disappointed she was to learn the truth! The one of us present at Pilttibileet remained there till 6 am, but only to look after a friend

befriending a quite friendly SHO active…

No, no action with an ex-chair of Kääntöpiiri admitted.

Turku Survival 2004 @ all around September 9th ?What?!? They’ll give us punch, too????

(Thanx, oldies!) The best of the best. After we survived the first challenge of tukkihumala and some home-made wine (it was just that bad), some intact and others…well… not, we were off and what a trip it was. Around Turku in just a few hours. We still haven’t visited as many bars as we did that night. One of us was a proud member of the group that took good care of the judges, certainly not limiting the amount of ass-kissing, winning the judges´ favourite in the after party @ Brinkkala basement. The other one managed to get her first Turku nickname, a name too dirty to be published (It’s the name of a famous, old porn film)… All reasonable party-goers went home close by or to a friend close by, but one (or two) had to walk most of the way to Koivula (and if you don’t know the place, don’t bother).

Beer & Bowling @ Kupittaa & Proffa September 16th We first-years were introduced the art of Alias and some of us took refuge downstairs (where, conveniently, you can smoke). A group of fearless freshmen crashed the History freshmen initiation party. They were less fearless after that.

Back to Basics @ Prima September 29th When there’s a costume party, you are supposed to wear a costume, right?

Apparently, the Prima party people disagree. Whilst normally school girl uniforms make the boys come undone,

this is, it seems, not the case in Prima.

The group of us freshwomen (with SatuAnnele by our side) and freshmen stood out just a tinsy winsy bit! Thank god there’s Halloween… After the first shock had worn off the night went on quite nicely. For instance, one of us had the chance to witness a historic slap in the face (that’s about all we can say without violating anyone’s privacy)… The other one learned a valuable lesson: never forget your glasses at your friend’s house and then make the said friend go and get them. Even with a guy, they tend to get a bit irritated.

Varjo-Appro @ various locations in Tampere - October 14th With a small but all-the-better group of enthusiastic party-people, we made our way to Tampere, stopping in Urjala for some much-needed candy. Tequila can be drunk in a moving bus, it really can. That might have something to do with us two making a successful disappearing act. Almost didn’t get to write this article but thankfully the pavement (in the AmE sense of the word) was 15 cm from our heads when we crashed. And we just couldn’t stop laughing, lying on the asphalt. Soon enough the laughter was cut short ‘cause one had to haul the other around Tampere. After reunited with the rest of the group the same other one decided to throw up on the bench of the table next to ours. She hadn’t quite grasped the misery of vomiting: barf, smile, barf, smile…Fun trip. :) Not fun was the part where one of us had to walk home, which took her two hours enriched by many attempts to throw up, in vain, we might add.

For the other one, some parts of the Approtrip still remain a total mystery (what about those guys in orange overalls, eh?...don’t get us started…’cause there’s nothing to get started on! But we’re positive their overalls were orange!)…

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Kostajaiset @ SOsis & all around November 11th

Band Night @ TVO - October 21st One of us and the aforementioned tutor Nikke cooked up a brilliant scheme, and were rejoicingly joined by the other P&C Person-to-be: we decided that TukatonJukka would have much more street-cred with a pair of G-strings on top of his head.

Before we knew we were throwing the underwear in question at him while he was performing one of Stumm’s…erm…originalsounding, innovative songs. Little did we know that the lead-screamer would voluntarily stuff the Gs in his mouth while on stage! And there’s even loads of photographic evidence to prove this wasn’t just the weirdest dream we ever had in our strange little minds…

Halloween @ S-Osis - October 29th Lovely dresses, for example a literal Bitch, October, a Bride Without a Groom and a Fairy/Angel/whatever. One of us began the night with some Saturday Night Fever in the company of Laura, totally rocking Elysée in vampire make-up. See SatuAnnele’s story for more.

One of us was the lead-organizer in the event in question, and may we say, what a marvellous job she did!

The first Kostajaiset EVER was a great success story, with many first-years working together seamlessly. The event was so well-planned, that the organizer in charge could just sit back and relax… or, in her case, get really pissed, spend a lot of time barfing in the toilet and finish off by taking a “nap”. The other one of us took charge until the leader (also called ‘Our Dear Nazi’ by friends) was ready to return, looking as cheerful and brisk as ever, just in time to announce the winners and sing some Karaoke. See Eero’s story for more.

Not-Goom Cruise @ Viking Isabella November 18th-19th As promised, one of us spent a great deal of the night with the rest of the gals, before getting all lovey-dovey with her beloved soldier-to-be. For the other one, the night included repeatedly escaping a not-gettingthe-message polo neck guy (not an Anglican!!), lying on the corridor floor singing (screeching to be more specific) her heart out and just running around aimlessly with other equally drunk Anglicans. See Minna’s story for more.

Thanksgiving & Back to the 90s @ Pippurimylly & Lyn - November 25th The evening kicked off with a glam dinner

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and a lot (=too much) conversation regarding phonetics of less common languages. Later, in Lyni, the other one of us, having joined the bunch, sang the Tapani Kansa’s classic Äidin pikkupoika.

The night in question signalled the beginning of a new love in the life of one of us: while selling entrance tickets, she unexpectedly found herself infatuated by stamp ink… And the rest is history.

Lil’ Christmas @ Brinkkala December 2nd We were forced to entertain our elders by embarrassing ourselves before their very eyes, and, what’s even worse, before a video camera. Fortunately, our play was just magnificent and had all the elements needed: suspense (“But where’s Pexitonttu?”), bare skin, some security-men angels, a cat fight (-> violence), striptease, a blonde with humongous boobs and even some old-fashioned Christmas carols. So in you face, suckas! To be honest, some decisions were made last-minutish, namely when the act in question should have already begun, and some of the more improvisational parts of the play even managed to surprise us (Panu, we mean you!). Balloon dicks were a big hit.

Shrove Tuesday @ Vartiovuorenmäki & VY - February 8th Don’t take the bus 55, you’ll end up at Turku countryside, namely Oriketo. And getting back isn’t that fast or easy. But what an adventure! :) Followed by warm drinks (our compliments to Mama!) and some Twister.

Traffic Light Party @ Lyn February 10th

colourful ribbons. Some individuals didn’t appreciate such a direct pick-up attempt, and made a run for it. This phenomenon was mostly seen midst females.

Lil’ Xmas Video Night @ Proffa February 25th Drinking, board games, you know the drill.

Our play was as amazing as we remembered it to be.

Britpop @ Dynamo - March 3rd DJ Eero made us feel proud. The celebration continued in the KissFM party in Börs, where some merchandise, for instance a couple of the hard-to-get-yourhands-on tickets to KissFm 10yrs main party, was obtained.

Neuroviisut @ Klubi - March 15th Markus, you are a star! Although the Anglican audience had some beforehand doubts of performing acoustically, with a drum an’ all, the performance was an utmost success! You go, boys! :) See Lauri and Ilja’s story for more.

Anglica’s 47th Birthday & St. Patrick’s Day @ Teini & Shamrock - March 17th Good food enjoyed in equally good company. The status of one of us as a fashion icon was finally made known throughout Turku, as she was immortalized in City magazine. The other one discovered a wholly new way of walking, namely töpötys (not that an earlier, almost one-sided drinking contest had anything to do with it).

One of us had a blast harassing people at the entrance: she kept on asking them their dating status and force-feeding them with

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Kostajaiset Eero Kalliala On November 11th, the foxy first-year students got their chance to experience real ultimate power and humiliate their elders. Turku Survival apparently had not left the young ones all too traumatized because the first ever Kostajaiset night was not meanspirited at all.

The city tour started at Proffa where the teams were “randomly drawn” and the first task, standing on plastic bags, was assigned. Teams were also given shiny halos which were later seen on the heads of some slightly too enthusiastic competitors.

The very first leg of the race was the most frustrating one: walking away from all the possible bars only to dig Posankka’s arse does not really make you go whoopee. Oh well, at least we got our maps.

My team, St. Dick, consisted of two (in)famous Jukkas and a lesserknown Eero. Our first bar to visit was Olavin Krouvi where some rather hard words/expressions had to be acted out in true charade style. It might have been an easier task later in the evening when inhibitions are generally lower, but it worked out all right nonetheless. Olavin Krouvi is also where we were first introduced to the Hangmanish torture without which we would not find out the name of the next place to go.

Up next was SuomiRock Bar. We took a turn to the left whereas the

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evening took a bizarre turn to the world of ninjas (!). Our team was very much confused when we had to answer questions about the essence of ninjas with a seemingly ninjaobsessed young man breathing down our necks. As if that wasn’t enough, we were also forced to perform an odd play in which these noble dark warriors ruled the world. Only later did we find out it was all a big fat inside joke about a website. Still, it was cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet.

Kipparin Tuoppi was the following place to visit. There we were supposed to demonstrate our acrobatic skills, but they proved to be non-existent. Why have collectively X feet and Y hands on the ground when it is hard enough to stand on your own two feet? Although one of the Jukkas could easily have broken in half during the most painful task, no one broke any bones.

Whiskybar was another place where inside knowledge turned out to be useful. Somehow piratey Monkey Island related questions felt a whole lot fairer than the ninja ones - at least one of us had actually played the games. We shot the banjo, arrrred to the best dressed judges of the night, drank some beer and went on.

Filling up speech bubbles is always fun, aye? That is exactly what had to be done at Shamrock, where we were provided with some

speechless photocopies of random comic strips and a pen. I don’t remember exactly what we wrote, but I do recall the scripts being rather Kaurismäki-like: simple yet strangely humorous. Beautiful too.

Back to Proffa then. The only thing I could remember was an extremely drunken judge standing outside, but I was told we had to imitate Simpsons characters (?), tell positive effects of smoking (??) and list bald female celebrities (hey, that does sound vaguely familiar). This is also the only bar where our team tried to bribe the judges; a lost cause, it seems.

In spite of standing circa 20 meters away from the afterparty we had to walk all the way back to Uudenmaankatu, to the very last bar.

In Olutravintola Turku our mission was to hum or whistle television themes.

That we did - quite successfully, may I add - but for some reason my fondest

memory is me and the hairless Jukka hyping the sugary sweetness that is Gilmore Girls.

We had been told the last team to arrive at the pitstop would be eliminated. (OK, that’s a lie. I miss the Amazing Race!) So, we hurried to SOsis to get our share of the deelicious salad. When all the teams and judges had arrived, points were calculated and winners announced. The victorious team was St. Some Penis Euphemism (Ilkka, Jaakko, Mama) whereas the Judges’ Favourite prize was awarded to St. Some Other Penis Euphemism (Ali, Antti, Nikke). The results came as a shock to... nobody, I assume.

I was asked to write positively so that next year’s new students would be convinced to make Kostajaiset a tradition. What should I say then? The evening was a success despite the somewhat small number of competitors. Just do it.

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Halloween The Halloween this ongoing academic year took place at the (in)famous SHO-cave on - surprise surprise - last Halloween!

Our prestigious Party&CulturAnts along with the volunteer baby-Anglicans had decorated the place honouring the rather obvious horror theme. The place, being the dark dent it is, proved to be a great place for the event. And as expected, a large number of weirdlooking Anglicans wandered around the cave and a few are known to have immigrated to the Whiskey. Oh, what a shock.

The night was enriched (among others) by prin|ces and -cesses of the darkness, brides from both here and here after and even His Beachness Michael Knight paid us a visit!

Jason the ice hockey player won hearts over with his mate danceswith-scary-rubber-gloves Plumber Guy. A man was also spotted in disguise of a chocolate-eyed bald man constantly giving the finger and yelling a lot.

Hmm... a brainer.

Annywwayys, if I recall correctly, the A(ngli)cademy Awards of the Best Supporting Costumes were in fact

Satu-Annele Salo

again collected by (drum roll!!) ...Anglicans. I personally had my fingers crossed for the Gothika Lady, but the jury (=one Anglican judge) objectively decided otherwise. Gee. On the other hand, maybe that wasn’t a costume at all, but merely a chemistry student in her party gear!

Anyhow, the horror we had seen was to be followed by a great amount of horror to hear as many of the party people relieved themselves through Karaoke. Some even sung.

In overall the Halloween party was once again a success, thanks to the organizer squad as well as the people who attended the party, in costume or otherwise. We might also

Why Catwoman flopped.

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No comment needed here. thank the SHO Staff despite the person masqueraded as a Disc Jockey. That act won zero awards.

However, may I remind you that this memorabilia of the event may vary

from yours or even the average Anglican’s view - for Yours Truly witnessed Halloween 2004 completely and totally sober. It was an adventure. And a first.

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Not-Goom Minna Lindqvist The thing about going on a 23-hour cruise with a herd of to-be-drunk Anglicans -on as lame a ship as the old bore Isabella, on a chilly November evening- is not only the fun and irrationality, but really, cheapness, too.

What one wants to make of such an insane trip is maximum enjoyment at a minimum cost. We’ve all been to

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those mini-voyages to Stockholm (just the port, not the city itself with this lot), we’ve all met each other before, and we know how to party, so the only real objective is what I stated above.

However, when you add to this the fact that the Anglica cruises tend to take place towards the end of the term, just before the exam hassle, you realise there is some anticipation packed onboard.

I decided not to spend more than twenty euro on the cruise, but I was prepared to go with what ever Anglica flow I would be faced with. As I ended up in the same cabin with two enthusiastic firstyear students, and in some respects, an even more enthusiastic secondyear Anglican, I knew I wasn’t going to be freed from the bottom-deck hulabaloo. Especially as my sporty cabinmate, a.k.a Roy Keane in the floorball squad, had equipped himself with some effective fair-play

liquid and promised to start my evening with that as soon as we would reach our place of accommodation. I took that as a helping hand, keeping in mind my low-budget plan. Did I, though, understand where I was heading? I hadn’t eaten much anything all day (also part of the masterplan, you see). Well well.

Ready or so not, there we were, in the cold embrace of the Baltic waves, greeted by the lovely English radio messages from the crew, and began the journey. And fun we had, surveying the Tax Free and frowning upon the business students in their slick suits and dresses. In the dim of the maritime adventure, merry Anglicans could be heard to maunder their views on Ostrobothnia girls, communism, Mr Lintunen, and other acute issues of life.

The wet blanket, I guarantee, always finds its way to creep in, however. Two of those, actually, decided it was time to drag me for supper -and water- around midnight. I was persistent in fighting those angelic (I credit you now, yes)two people by claiming I was not hungry. But do I remember how ferociously I devoured the panini and risifrutti! I was determined to go on with my evening, but my guardians deviously guided me to bed and the slumberlands. So, what went on in the ship between one and six o’clock, I couldn’t say. I do have some vague recollections of mistuned singing in the

corridor, however.

By the morning, I was one happy camper again, but these losers had all gone to sleep. Where was my breakfast company! Nowhere, as it turned out, before midday. In the afternoon we witnessed a wearisome Kummeli Show, but then again, didn’t it just about describe the dominant mood of our worn-out team before the longawaited return to Turku? *bow and a sigh*

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Neuroviisut Ilja Hirvonen & Lauri Turkko The Story behind the Corrosive 8 playing Jeff Buckley and managing to get away with it.

Ilja Hirvonen, guitar: This is it. The gig to end all the gigs. Time to show what we’ve got.

So people, how can you show ‘nothing’? Draw frigging tree-diagram?

Despite the gloominess that pervaded Lauri’s garage, our band quickly learning how frustrating Jeff Buckley’s song ‘Grace’ could really get? And trust me on this one, that’s more than you can imagine.

Still, our vocalist Markus was adamant that we’d play the song despite the mounting pressure of two days to the show and the revelation that the guitarist had partying all night and couldn’t even play his damn instrument, much less the song in question.

Well, after a series of heated debates the troubled guitarist spotted a piece of old wood in the corner of the garage. A closer inspection revealed that the mysterious artefact was in reality an acoustic guitar and, in a flurry of action, the band relocated into Lauri’s parents living room with an acoustic guitar and only a single drum.

Suddenly all clicked. The ancient sticker on the side of the guitar proudly declaring that it was, well and truly, Corrosive 8, the guitar’s absolute

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refusal to stay in tune and acquiring the elusive, last of the nylon strings from a nearby shop (and, no, it’s name was not Showtime…), we were rolling.

The song actually sounded at least somewhat like the original, with the slight twist of jungle fever and walruses thrown in, and we were getting slightly hopeful that we would not embarrass ourselves completely.

Lauri Turkko, a drum: In search of the perfect sound we needed to go back to our roots – at least I had to, for we were playing in the freezing cold garage of my parents! After major inner problems with the band, we ended up in taking an acoustic approach on things. It worked surprisingly well.

The gig was bloody proper in every sense. Respectable music from respectable musicians is what they got –not just any boring fart doing something accompanied by a backing track. Yes, the drum was not properly fastened by my shaking feet, and it slipped. But everybody was knackered, so that’s all folk’s. Good times, honey.

Markus “Buckley”, vocals: Hasn’t been seen since, probably still enjoying his welldeserved time with our numerous groupies.

...We are the Ström.

Frantic could not believe his ears.

- Remember what? You are the storm?

- No, no and once again no, the man replied. We are the STRÖM. Diabolical Ström. We are many and we are one. Challenge us and you shall fall.

- Oh come on, cut the crap, Frantic shouted and hit the backbone hard against the table. – I have no intention to challenge you pathetic worms. Now tell me where to go and I shall leave you in peace.

The two men glanced at each other and started laughing. Their laughter was a low grumble that sounded like it echoed deep from the bowels of the earth.

- Take the highway to the end of the night, the grim bearded man answered in the midst of his laughter.

– But beware the ghost of war lad, beware the ghost of war!

The grim bearded man spoke no more. Instead he laughed even harder while his dog-faced companion fell giggling on the floor.

Frantic stared at the men

without the tiniest trace of emotion in his cold, glass-like eyes. A few years earlier he could have felt at least pity, but no more. The two ugly men meant nothing to Frantic. No, to a man of his calibre these lowlifes were the absolute scum of the earth.

So he headed towards the entrance of the bar, waving the backbone in his hand.

- May your conscience be your guide, the grim bearded man shouted to him. Frantic stopped at the door and laughed back at the men.

- Conscience, a word I learned to forget.

The two men fell silent, their stares blank.

Frantic continued laughing and stepped into the darkness surrounding the bar. There in the embrace of the everdark he spoke to his elders.

- Follow me, voices of Old. Follow the highway to the end of the night. So it is written, so it shall be.

Thunder rumbled in the skies and the voices of Old replied:...

Continues on page 35

TOP5 - Anttoni 1) Garbage – Bleed Like Me 2) Kent – Du & Jag Döden 3) Kalle Ahola – Kuun maisemaa (song) 4) Lemonator – Yesterday Was Good 5) Massive Attack – 100th Window

TOP5 - Jukka TOP5 - JP 1) Porcupine Tree - Deadwing 1) William Shatner - Has Been 2) Rytmihäiriö – Saatana on herra 2) Maija Vilkkumaa - Se ei olekaan niin 3) Jesu – Heart Ache 3) PMMP - Kovemmat kädet 4) Rotten Skeletor – Kummitusten yö (song) 4) Tiktak - Jotain muuta 5) Judas Priest – Angel of Retribution 5) Indica - Ikuinen virta

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Saint-Tore - student party the Belgian way Pirjo Kangas So you’ve experienced GOOM, Poronkusema and MM-kyykkä and you think that the Finnish students are the most inventive when it comes to the student festivities?

Or at least that the drinking habits of the Finnish students can not be topped by the other nationalities?

You probably will change your mind after experiencing Saint Toré in Liège.

One feature of the exchange student life seems to be that you never know what is going on in the world outside the Erasmus community – especially not the things that are happening in the very town where you live! That was also the case in the event of THE

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student happening in Liège during the spring term: Saint-Toré.

March 14th, Monday morning, 9 am, the residents of Hôme Ruhl got awakened by a noisy crowd passing by in the Boulevard d’Avroy. “What an odd time to have a demonstration”, most of us thought and went back to sleep. But that was not the end of bizarre events, far from it. Getting back from the university half the bus was full of drunken students dressed up in muddy doctors’ coats which were full of scribblings. The outfit was completed with a metal chain around the neck and a cap attached to it. The students were not only loud but also stinky: just imagine the smell in a Finnish summer rock festival area the day after the event and put it inside a bus and you get pretty close...

By the evening, even the exchange students got a bit wiser. It was a question of the last big student party before people actually have to start studying for the exams. The demonstration was not a demonstration but a parade of 2000 students on it’s way

to the statue of a taurus nearby our residence in order to paint the genital area of the statue red, apparently in order to celebrate the coming of the spring... And the doctors’ coats are a bit like our overalls, exept that all of them are originally the same colour.

Saint-Toré is not a party for the people who only own new clean clothes and who don’t want to see them get dirty so the coat is actually almost a must for anyone wanting to participate in the party. If during Vappu you are worried that your student cap might lose it’s shining white colour Saint-Toré is not the thing for you. In fact, the dirtier your outfit, the cooler you are! Beer is not only drunk but thrown on each other (what a waste!) and sometimes the liquid thrown on you might turn out to be urine. And if

the first two days of the party were not enough to make the doctors’ coat lose its white colour, the party on the third day provides you the opportunity for mud baths to the very style of Woodstock - on top, you can also take a mud bath with your bike!

The party is just as crazy as it sounds like and judging by the state of the streets in the bar area of the town vomiting at some point seems to be a rule, not an exception. All the subtleties of the event are probably not revealed to an outsider but this time, I was quite happy to leave it that way...

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Don’t you just love the smell of rotting breakfast in the morning?

Jussi Jokinen It is often said that humanists don’t do numbers, but if this is true, then how do you explain that the initial NMES sign up -list contained 14 names, the second one 7, and finally 4 people showed up in Tampere (and one of them left her phone home, and admitted to feeling like half a person because of it). So the final number of participants was 3½, exactly 25% of the people who initially signed up.

You think about it.

Going to Tampere with a car instead of using public transportation is all fine and dandy, except when the masterplan is formulated as follows: let’s gather up, get merrily drunk, get to know each other - dance around the christmas tree a bit - first, and then go to our lodgings to drop off stuff.

What?! Since when was that a good idea? I mean I know that Tampere is not a city, but drunk driving is supposed to be the followed rule only in your own home village. Or if you drive a Lada.

The rest of Friday night was spent touring bars in the centre of Tampere which, is of course, the most traditional of all NMES traditions, and allowed us to see exactly the same side of Tampere that most students from Turku have already had the privilege of seeing thanks to Hämeenkadun Appro.

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The Saturday greeted us with fog, dampness and hangover. I personally found the last part to be unfair since I really hadn’t drunk that much. We destroyed the second1 batch of breakfast ingredients quite rapidly, and then we were off to hear the wonderful lectures that had been organized just for our pleasure. Now, here’s the part I have never been able to get. As students I think it is fair to call ourselves professional lecture goers, and honestly, how many lectures have you been to that you would call pleasurable? Admittedly, at least the first one of the two lectures yielded a positive surprise. I didn’t think that I’d learn anything new there, but I did. At 11am. on the 9th of April 2005 John Milton was just another dead English poet. No big feelings one way or the other. 45 minutes later, bam! I fucking hate him. The guy was a wanker! I’m glad that he’s dead.

After lunch there was a panel discussion with not as much a panel of people discussing as a bunch of people talking. But we were very happy to realize that the University of Turku has been the only one – of those present, aka. Turku, Tampere and Jyväskylä – that has been able to fuck up the periodization system so thoroughly. On that note we split up, solemnly agreeing to not meet until 6 pm, when the NMES main extravaganza with plays and all was

supposed to begin. No one had actually rehearsed anything, so the unfortunate who had to lug the NMES trophy back home was decided by a competition where the teams had to express themselves to the tune of the Madonna song of the same name.

Now, I am happy to tell you that Anglica2 finished dead last, and the guy who has to haul that uncomfortable hunk of metal back home was the lone representative of Sub, who had arrived only 90 minutes earlier. After that it was just the bar tour all over again, and back to the school where we were sleeping.

That is about the long and the short of it. I know I’ve made it sound a

lot worse than it really was, but what makes you think I’d reveal the good bits to someone who didn’t even bother to show up. Tch! Shame on you. /J 1. The first batch being destroyed while making the miraculous discovery that dairy products react badly to sunlight and exposure to room temperature.

2. The best way to describe Anglica’s performance would probably be: “Now that’s the way to do it. Concise. And to the point” (Mansell 2005).

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Sentenced to the Board of 2005 to Make Amends Anttoni “The Boss/Iceman” Lehto Crime: Doing business Don Corleone-style. (Hard to keep up with all the things he’s done…)

Holder of ‘Cursed Gavel of Berserking +5’. Has openly admitted to occasionally seeing 6-foot green lizards at night. Has also developed truly abnormal phobias such as the fear of backpacks in bathroom sinks – a.k.a. bacpacbatsinkophobia. When not too busy, likes to write novels under pseudonyms such as Stephen King, J.K Rowling and Margaret Atwood.

Maarit “Spare Chair/mA RgE” Laaksonen Crime: Recorded top secret Anglican meetings for a year. Now serving her second sentence.

The usual reason for meetings’ piips – apparently has yet to realize that FTF communication does not have a seven-second delay. The most Yankee of the lot . As a second-year veteran, at least recognizes the difference between staying home (smart) and coming to a board meeting (less so).

Eero “Prototype Britpop Hair” Kalliala Crime: Smuggling money.

Takes ‘sitting on the money’ literally by hiding the chest under his co… um, sink. Knows that the difference between Britpop and Britrock is not that of an opinion. Has an exquisite taste for board games.

Measures computer file sizes in units of ‘Gilmore Girls’-episodes. Refuses to acknowledge “Eero-pity” from a fellow floorball player.

Taru “Lost in Transcription” Korhonen Crime: Happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Was also carrying a 0.5-caliber pen.

Occasionally gets confused with the board’s incoherent decisions – that’s when she takes deep, almost desperate breaths. Master of Linguistic Condensation. Don’t let the innocent looks fool you: she can sometimes be spotted wearing a spiky neckband and/or moshing to Rammstein.

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Minna “KoPo” Lindqvist Crime: A well known political activist notorious for her radical actions.

If Anglica was only about the official stuff, could easily manage the whole show by herself, i.e. is disturbingly aware of “all that uni stuff”. Knows all Keane’s songs by heart. Is familiar with the difference btw a professor (‘Excuse me, can I ask something?’) and a lecturer (‘Kato Skaffari, ota maitoo!’). st Tuula “1 year student” Lassila Crime: Infomous for cutting up tons of innocent paper by using scissors as the murder weapon.

The artistic eye of the board. Can go on talking about glitter glue longer than you’d assume humanly possible. Also, gets really excited about food. Has firsthand experience from the English Departments of both Tampere and Turku – and look where she ended up...

Maiju “Uki-accent” Kivinen Crime: Experts refer to her mystic businesses as ‘projects’. Has operated on international level.

A living example of how being in the board can be really bad for one’s health. Made first contact with future Anglicans at the sand heap. Usually fails to remember that there’s actually a difference between “Über-Granny” and “Over-the-TopGranny”.

Mamu “Maria” Salmijärvi Crime: Too much partying resulted into a year-long ‘party & culture’-sentence.

A SoHo-enthusiast. Loves to goof around with spoons hanging from her nose. Blushes sweetly to match the colour of her clothes. A bizarre combi-nation of a tough chick and a die-hard Potter fan.

Sonja “Jr.” Forsström Crime: Mamu’s partner in crime.

Loses her self-protective capacities and behaves irrationally at the presence of glowing green ink.

Occasionally implies that there’s a difference between “single” and “not dating”. Must be using doping to train her smiling muscles – smiles happily even when a) throwing up b) getting her place demolished by drunken guests at a birthday party.

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Babette The Killer Now you see her, a wandering dark Except it’s just a silhouette And even though you command and bark: ”Who goes there?” your shaking hands tell that you fear Babette She’s a fighting soul and been through much since the trouble began Her figure is slight, her posture such that she’ll always make us feel faint Although once we were quaintly amused by her Her lips, her hands, her hips and toes Her breasts made us forget all woes But Civil War never suited a hooker And now she’s homeless and out of service like the husks that rust on the barren fields But never powerless, not Babette Purvis!

Deciding to survive, she now takes other lives Stalking from shadow to next in the night dealing blight with each step to those who were spared from the guns and cannons Her sharp blades glow in the moonlight And no one glimpses her face Now you know her, a wandering dark And have heard of the things that she does She can never again be what she once was Her lovers are dead and her beauty long since spoiled All she has left is the murderous spark

Sampsa Salomaa

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imbed in bed it’s warm and outside, they

in here dry i fear cry

like fallen lambs, gods in black tear up the sky and weep sweet sleep must we have back all our dreams to keep ever wanes the wrath of storms, some say but i know they are mere lies ‘cause nothing of a brighter day shows through my house’s eyes i close my own in this elfin sphere lying innocent as before without true hope they linger near holding nothing i’d adore it’s warm in here still outside, my dear chill

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Dr Strangelove

Questions and Answers For the second year running, our dear doctor has graciously agreed to help those in need of practical advice about small everyday things as well as answers to more profound questions about life in general. Once again, the editorial staff stands in awe.

If a tree falls down in a forest and happens to land on you but there’s no one to see it, does it hurt? from But I So Love the Great Outdoors, Honest I Do Dear Horticulturalist, Not me it doesn’t. And anyone spending time in the woods deserves everything they get, so I’m very much hoping that not only does it hurt, but that it’s fatal and drawn-out, too. Stop tormenting the innocent little trees and take up beaver-patrolling instead. ‘ How can somebody be nearly headless? from Is That a Neck I See Before Me Dear I’m All Thumbs, Sometimes the battery of the hedgetrimmer can go out during murderous rampages and this can leave some of your victims only semi-decapitated.

Although the need to reload after every

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third victim is clearly spelled out in the instructions (a perfect example of the importance of actually reading the instruction manual), it still comes as a surprise to many up-and-coming serial killers. And to those more familiar with the profession who were home-schooled and never really got the concept of counting. Are you asking from the receiving or the giving side?

I’m thinking about starting a new hobby called kyykking. Do you happen to have any advice you could give me? from I’m a Little Tea-pot, Short and Stout Dear Little Engine Who Could, I suggest you stop thinking, as it obviously will only lead to trouble. Now that’s not to say that kyykking isn’t fun, of course it is. But mostly for other people. Before making the final decision, perform a little test: pick up a fairly heavy skillet, mortar or other suchlike object, hurl it straight up into the air and let it hit you. If you enjoyed that, then yes indeed, do take up kyykking. If not, there might be some hope for you yet. Though I very much doubt that.

I’ve been lurking around the seminar library for a year now.

Where the hell is Frantic??!!! from I Already Found Waldo Dear Spectacle Fetishist, Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? Look in the mirror and be amazed! No, actually I was pulling your leg the whole time. If you really want to find Frantic, you need to bulk up my son. Then you need to take the long and arduous journey to see the favored second cousin of the Dalai Lama, to whom you have to indenture yourself for no less than a period of 20 years, performing the most twisted and sick services you can ever imagine. If after that time you are considered worthy, he will reveal to you the location of the most-soughtafter Frantic. Or you could just call directory assistance, you moron.

Why weren’t there any footage from Wappu-celebrations on the Lil’ Xmas-tape? from But I Really Do Like Toilet Humor Dear Scheiße-enthusiast, There is a rumor going around that said footage contains unbelievably embarrassing moments from the life of a certain chairperson. And as there have been several sightings of meetings between two people in trenchcoats in what can only be described as secretive and suspicious circumstances, I can only conclude that hush-money has exchanged hands. If you are truly interested in the tape, I suggest you get together with some of your so-called friends and/or

acquaintances and put up a collection that exceeds the mere pittances I know the chairperson in question can afford. Remember, once bribed is twice bought, i.e. open to competitive offers. And do let me know if the tape actually does surface, as it holds some interest for me as well. From a merely professional point-of-view, of course.

I found somebody to love me. Does this mean you’re wrong about everything? from I’m So Lonely Dear You’re Going to Die Alone, All Alone, Did I mention that Mrs. Palm and her five lovely daughters don’t count? Nor does the really fetching poodle in the next block& Alright, no need to get upset, I was just checking. Now, I’m sure your mother told you to stay away from those mail-order-brides and you really, really should have listened to her. But maybe all is not lost yet. Go stand in front of a mirror, lift up your shirt and check the area in your lower back. You should see a sutured cut or cuts. If there’s only one, you’re home free. If there are two, forget about ever seeing your significant other again and go sign up for dialysis.

Now. If there are more than two, I suggest you start writing you will. And I wouldn’t waste time looking for a better pen either.

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ASSports Illustrated: Floorball Antti Koskinen & Eero Kalliala (pics) During the past year, the legendary Anglica’s Sports Squad provided once again lots of different, more or less sports-related activities from bowling to climbing and battling in the MegaZone. The primary stress was, however, on the coolest game on the earth, floorball. In addition to the regular weekly playing hour (on Wednesday at noon, welcome!), ASS participated in the University’s Sammonmalja (=Sam’s trophy?) tournament for the third time. Only with a difference that this year we won, yes, my friends, an entire match against an entire team, Kantapeikot! The key of the win was to follow the old advice of the almighty coach Juhani Tamminen: KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid!). The historical score was 18-13 for us. In the following game we met our traditional arch rival, the philosophers of Dialectica. To illustrate the event, we brought our own cameraman with us. Exclusively on Baccanalia-05, here are some highlights from this nerve-wracking thriller:

Jaakko stops the opponent with a rockhard slice…

...and throws an insulting comment on his silly red vest.

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Topi on the left, Anttoni on the right. There’s always time to check the hair.

Anttoni and Ville defending(!)

(Already traditional) Adidas commercial

After a dramatic fight the game ended bitterly 12-13 for Dialectica who achieved a place in the next round. However, Anglica proved clearly to be the more skillful team, and the opponents won only because they were lucky, the referee sucked and the ball was equipped with an electronic device programmed to direct it towards our goal! By the way, Anglica’s Sports Squad always supports sportsmanlike behaviour in all its forms…

That’s all for ASSports, coming next year: the swimsuit edition!

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How to not get your ass kicked in a movie theater Mama & Andy

“you can burn my house, you can cut my hair, you can make me wrestle naked with a grizzly bear, you can poison my cat, baby, i don’t care, but if you talk in the movies i’ll kill you right there.”

Ever been to the movies and felt a sudden need to kill the person sitting next to you? Has your movie enjoyment been compromised by clueless morons? Are the people sitting close to you totally oblivious to the agony they inflict on others?

Here’s your answer! Cut out this simple guide to the biggest no-no’s of movie going etiquette and give them to the perpetrators in your life.

Hell, if you feel the need, make copies of this article and pass them around in the theater lobby to random people who look like they might cause trouble. Trust us, the world will be a better place.

Now even though it seems unbelievable, there actually are people who don’t understand the ramifications of their actions. And no, that is no excuse for ruining other people’s movie experiences, but let’s give them a break: maybe they we’re brought up by wolves and just don’t know better. We’re here to help.

Below you can find a comprehensive guide to the biggest annoyances one can cause in a movie theater.

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Do Not Stand During The Movie!

If you come in late, which by the way is stupid and moronic because you’re missing out on things, but hey, sometimes that happens, here’s what you do: you figure out where your seat is and then get to it as fast as you can, trying to disturb other people as little as you can. And the second you get to your seat, sit down. Simply because you’re missing the beginning of the movie doesn’t mean the people unfortunate enough to be seated behind you should.

This also applies to the end of the movie. We don’t mind people who leave before the credits end. We don’t get them, but it’s their choice. But if you’re gonna leave before the thing ends, leave. Don’t get up, and then stand there. You’re blocking the view!

If you don’t want to see the credits, fine, but other people do. So either sit your ass down, or leave. Don’t stand up and then try to decide what to do. Tch. As an addendum to this rule, before you come into the theater, figure out if you need to use the facilities. We realize that most times your mom isn’t with you to remind you of this, but hey, we believe in you!

While we both agree that if your peanut-sized bladder pulls the emergency break during a movie, it really is best to go to the toilet instead

of… well, you know. But please try to avoid it to the best of your ability. The person sitting next to you who’s going to miss the crucial scene and get her toes crushed will appreciate it.

The short version: Keep your ass in your seat, or if that isn’t possible, stand next to a wall.

The short version: As long as no one outside your movie-viewing-company notices it (and they don’t mind), it’s acceptable. Otherwise it’s not.

Talking on the phone is NEVER acceptable, and should be punishable by painful death. This would ideally consist of rabid lemmings and wet woollen socks. And thus we move smoothly on to our next cardinal rule:

Do Not Talk During The Movie!

Talking during the commercials is fine, as everybody’s seen them on television way too many times already, and they always suck anyway. Talking during the trailers depends entirely on the trailer; if it’s a good one, shut up.

People will want to watch it. Also, be very careful about classifying trailers, as even the most annoying one will have its fans. Safest thing? Keep your talking volume on an appropriate level.

Naturally sometimes talking during a movie is acceptable, as long as you remember to do it at a reasonable volume. If you wish to point something out to your movieviewing-company, that’s all fine and dandy, as long as you keep in mind that other people probably are not interested. Unless, of course, you have something really funny and appropriate to say. E.g. yelling “DIE already!” during The English Patient or Matrix Revolutions is totally acceptable.

Talking during the movie if you do not have any movie-viewingcompany is always a bad idea, no matter what you have to say. This is how those not-so-nice men with the wrap-around jacket find you.

Do Not Play With Your Phone During The Movie!

This includes everything you could possibly think of doing with your phone. One exception being that you are allowed to clean your ears with the antenna if you absolutely must, since that’s not annoying as such, only gross. As stated above, talking is totally out. And FYI, if you’re having a conversation with your MOTHER during a movie(*), it’s time for you to leave the gene pool! I know it’s difficult to understand, but trust us, we already know everything we need to know about you just by looking at you, you will not appear more savvy by having “interesting” phone conversations in the movies. (*) For real life stories of this, you can contact either one of us. See? This is a very common problem in the movie-viewing community.

The short version: If the light on your phone comes on or a sound is heard from it, anyone within striking distance is allowed to make you eat it. Several times, if necessary. Which brings us to the next point:

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Do Not Eat During The Movie!

Okay, so let’s admit straight off the bat that this isn’t a clear-cut nono. Only certain kind of eating is strictly forbidden. Mainly, any kind that makes a sound... Let’s take candy, for example. Eating candy can greatly enhance the movie viewing pleasure, and is all perfectly fine. But if your candy happens to be in a bag that makes more noise than your average female working at the other end of one of those press-9-for-office-sex-by-thecopy-machine-while-the-hornyjanitor-is-watching-while-wanking-offwith-his-monkey-wrench-numbers, leave it at home. Or be sure to finish the bag during the commercials.

Same applies to candy that’s wrapped. It’s often relatively quiet in a movie theater - or at least we hope it is - and unwrapping candy is Loud.

As a side-note to the people who think it’s okay to eat wrapped candy as long as you remove the wrapper real careful as to not make much noise, nice try, but it just doesn’t work. If possible, it makes it even worse...

There is, however, something worse in this category than candy, which at least is a natural inhabitant of a movie theater, and that is ACTUAL food. Trust us when we say that no one enjoys the smell of your double-cheese-burger-with-extrafries spreading throughout the theater.

Besides, now that the Lord of the Rings trilogy has been completed, movies aren’t that long; you should be able to sit through a movie without a snack in the middle.

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The short version: This ain’t no horn section, bigger and louder doesn’t equal better. Stick with small and quiet.

Do Not Obsess Over Your Drink During The Movie!

People have a habit of drinking during a movie. This is totally cool, especially if eating popcorn. What isn’t cool is what happens with some individuals when their drink runs out.

Now we know that the first law of thermodynamics states that energy doesn’t vanish, it merely changes form, but sadly this does not apply to your drink. When it’s gone, it’s gone and no amount of slurping with the straw will bring it back. So quit it already! It’s driving people mad. And we’re not talking mad like that harmless little man living next door who likes to talk to his slippers, oh no, we’re talking Michael Myers mad here.

Now if you’re one of those people who don’t believe in straws in the first place, you’re one of the bottlefolk. That’s fine, and rather clever. You don’t have to finish it during the movie if you’re not thirsty, but instead you can just place the bottle in your bag, or the nifty cup-holder by your armrest, and finish the lovely drink later. If you do, however, empty the entire bottle during the movie, please mind what you do with the bottle next.

Placing it on the floor is a balancing act that not many people in dark rooms can master. And no one will love you when the bottle goes off rolling along, hitting everything that clanks on the way. Besides, anyone

who has ever been in a theater where this has happened can testify that the bottle never stops. Breaking all the rules of physics it’ll just keep going and clanking until it has successfully ruined a good portion of the movie for everyone. And yet no one blames the bottle. They blame you.

elsewhere. What we want to know is, could you really not come up with anything better than paying 9• for a make out place that’s not even private? Seriously, did your momma drop you on your head a lot or is exhibitionism the only way you can get your kicks?

The short version: Accept that sometimes there just isn’t more to drink, and making things go clank in the night just doesn’t change that.

The short version: Get a room somewhere else than the movie theater.

Do Not Have Sex During The Movie!

Do Not Make Disgusting Body Sounds During The Movie!

Excessive foreplay and/or actual sex in a movie theater is pretty much like the coded transmissions of Italian porn on Canal +: you see glimpses of things you can’t recognize (not that you’d want to, either), hear indistinct dialogue comprising mostly of grunting, moaning and yucky pet names (unless you’re of the school that believes that nothing is as sexy as using defamatory expressions), you miss the plot of the movie completely and get a severe headache to boot. And you bloody well don’t want to pay for that. So let’s make it simple shall we: nobody wants to see or hear your bedroom antics.

Peeping Tom’s have their own secret hangouts and the rest of us know how to rent a decent quality porn flick from the local sex store, where we at least can get rid of the giggling.

As a side-note, we feel it’s really sad that some people don’t have their own apartments to have wild monkey sex in. Everybody should have a place like that. But if you don’t, we understand you need to look

This, obviously, includes all sounds that may be generated during the activities forbidden in the previous category, but also the kinds of icky sounds only people in the throes of a horrible disease can create. Now we understand that being sick is really unpleasant, and to the best of our ability, which anyone who knows us also knows isn’t that much, we do sympathize. And if there’s a movie you really want to see, being sick hardly seems like a good enough reason to stay home. Still, reconsider. Not only does constant coughing or blowing your nose or making other sickly sounds disturb and annoy the shit out of other people in the theater, ask yourself, how enjoyable is the movie experience if half the time you only see the screen through your tissue?

You’ll eventually get better, and you’ll enjoy the movie more if you wait to see it then.

Obviously, if you’re terminally ill, and thus not ever getting better, you make an exception to the rule. As long as it’s not, you know, contagious.

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The short version: When you’re sick, stay home.

Do Not Get Hysterical During The Movie!

It is expected that people laugh while watching a movie, especially if it happens to be a comedy. Almost all movies have scenes that cause spontaneous laughter (if you have in fact practiced your laughter beforehand, you’ve got some serious problems), possibly not counting Schindler ’s List and suchlike.

Laughing is therefore on the approved list, BUT with the following exceptions.

Laughing is not supposed to be a painful experience. Now we don’t care if you hurt, but if the people around you need to hold their ears, consider toning it down a bit. Basically, if you have an abnormally loud and/or freaky laughter, the flying elbow coming from the person next to you should not surprise you. I.e. if you sound like Fran Drescher, zip it up.

Also, don’t laugh in inappropriate places. What is an appropriate place is of course open for discussion, but we would say that 99% of the moviegoing audience feels that the appearance of a small boy on the screen is not in itself indicative of a funny scene. If you laugh and other people don’t, there are two possible explanations: either the other people in the audience don’t recognize funny stuff when they see it, or you’re a moron. Either way, it’s best to keep your laughter at appropriate levels, for either can lead to a stampede. Over you.

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Similarly to the first rule, there are some instances where laughter is appropriate even when the rest of the audience doesn’t find the scene funny.

During Titanic, when Rose is promising to never let go and simultaneously trying to pry her hand out of Jack’s, it is conceivable that some members of the audience can recognize the inherent absurdity of the situation. So sometimes snickering is the only way to go. Get over it and concentrate on feeling sad. Which brings us to the single most annoying thing you can do in a movie theater: crying.

It’s okay to sniffle quietly and even blow your nose once or twice, but if we can’t hear the last twenty minutes of the movie because someone obviously just killed your mother and your best friend AND is threatening the life of your puppy, your number is up (if we ever catch the crybaby that cost us the end of Finding Neverland, there’s gonna be hell to pay). If you are easily upset by sad things, try to gauge the level of sadness a movie will bring. DO NOT go to a movie that will obviously include the death of a lover, family member or a pet (or a pointy-eared science officer), if you don’t think you can handle it with the right amount of stoicism. Try to be as stiff-upper-lippy as you can. One of the writers of this guide personally cries every time she sees a Lassie movie, but that’s just because they’re so god-damn awful.

And you don’t see her in a movie theater crying her a river about it, either. Although both of us have been known to make other people cry…

The short version: Yes, some movies can make you sad. We understand this. We also recognize that people have an in-built need to release their sadness. But for fuck’s sake don’t do it by balling your eyes off next to us!!

Doesn’t it make you feel good that just by following these simple rules you will help many people have a better movie-viewing experience? Not to mention the fact that the probability of you dying inside a movie theater goes down at least 99%.

So here you have it. All you need to know about movie theater etiquette.

Coming soon: “How to not get killed while queuing.”

Continued from page 17 - Oh give us a break boy. Do you not recall what Umrumh said before he headed out to save the Gungabrangs?

That was the same meaningless blahblah you just uttered boy. That was the same shit.

Frantic was speechless.

How could the voices of Old suddenly turn against him, against his determination to seek atonement for once and for all. Rage filled his blackened heart.

He gazed toward the skies and shouted: - Your father was a blahblah when he made you!!!

- Oh yeah? Well, your mother had two arses and only half a head, the voices of Old answered furiously.

Frantic could hardly believe his own ears. How could they?

- You shall follow the highway to the end of the goddamn night! You have no option!

The voices of Old started laughing.

- Shi-it! We ain’t goin’ nowhere with your ass! And if you put your hands on us, we’re getting’ down right here!

- Well come on down then, Frantic shouted with hellfire raging in his eyes. – Come on you travesties of a god! I’ll slap you silly!

All of a sudden a mighty fireball came down from the skies heading straight towards Frantic. In a blink of an eye Frantic smashed the fireball with his loyal backbone.

Surrounded by ash and smoke he screamed toward the heavens.

- Is this all you’ve got?! Is THIS all?! You hold but a shadow of the true power that once belonged to the voices of Old. You are pathetic.

Pathetic! I spit on your grave!

The voices of Old began crying.

- Oh Frantic, old boy…

You know it hasn’t been that easy for us either… You must know… The depression and all… And the new shoes… You must understand…

Those new shoes…

Frantic understood. If there was one thing that still made sense in this pious, rotten world of ours, it was those new shoes. Not just any knew shoes, those shoes were…

To Be Continued...

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Zombies from the Shelf To promote good will and mutual understanding we chose eight individuals who gave something special from their record collections for their friends to enjoy and review.

Again.

Yölintu Mahdunko Maailmaas Kaikki Parhaat

Satu-Annele: A classic. With all the biggest hits apart from one.

Probably the best collection in the world. I just hope the dreamy bald one won’t make me pay for his therapy.

Jukka: Ok Satu-Annele, I know revenge when I see one! With the exception of Anna Eriksson, I’m not into the Finnish adult dance music scene (don’t exactly know what else to call it). There’s nothing that rubs me the wrong way about it, in fact it doesn’t rub me at all and in my opinion the worst kind of music is the kind that causes no reaction at all.

Well, here we have two CDs with 36 best tracks from Yölintu who are a bunch of lads that every mother

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wishes their daughter would marry instead of those two smelly degenerates (one bald, the other long haired) that sit in Whisky Bar every night (as if they ever get married).

Most of the songs are Yölintu’s own (or at least written by Esa Nieminen, the four-eyed bastard from Bumtsibum for them), but there are a couple of cover songs as well such as “Moottoripyörä on moottoripyörä” (one of my childhood favourites!) and “Melkein halvaannuin” (Elvis Presley’s “Paralyzed”).

After wading through the 36 tracks, I must admit this is exactly the kind of music that leaves me cold. Too safe, no taste, no smell, nothing. On the other hand some of the lyrics hit close to home with themes such as the difficulty of finding a girl, the difficulty of being with a girl, messed up life and then there’s the occasional songs about partying and being a little drunk. Hell, these guys have been spying on my life!

I probably should write some more witty comments about this record, but I don’t think I will. Instead, I’ll go and stick Sutcliffe Jügend’s When Pornography is No Longer Enough (see Satu-Annele’s review of it in Baccanalia ‘04) in my cd-player.

Creamface - Tied Down and Fucked Hard Jukka: Being the illiterate dumbass that I am, I wasn’t exactly sure if I was supposed to give Jarkko a cd I despised or liked. I chose the latter and gave him a cd of 100% porno grind. Creamface is definitely the most fanatic, dedicated and dirtiest band in the genre today and I love it!! I’ve even had the privilege of being a session musician for the band at one point and that should tell me just how addicted I am...

Jarkko: When you are handed an album called Tied Down and Fucked Hard by a band called Creamface with the covers ripped straight from very smutty hardcore porn, you’ll be hard pressed not to form opinions about it before hearing even a single note of music. That’s exactly what these extreme hardcore bands are about: for them music is only a small fragment of their artistic expression. Love it or loathe it, you have to admit that these types of bands do, in fact, succeed to provoke the majority of people but once the record is turning on the turntable (or nested inside the CD/DVD-player), the impact wears off since the music rarely makes a lasting impression.

Such is the case here.

Creamface, hailing from Finland but desperately trying to cover their tracks with aliases hinting to the Netherlands, is a fairly typical example of late 80’s grindcore with sludgedly churning riffs, fast tempo and an occasional interlude of several 3 second tracks in succession to

produce a machinegun fire effect.

Grindcore has never been about single songs standing out rather than the overall experience; instead, the rather monotonous music is punctuated by intros, often sampled (without proper authorization) from movies. Unsurprisingly Creamface has opted to use sound samples from hardcore porn movies as their intros but have effectively ruined the dramatic effect by overly extending them. Approximately 10 minutes of this 35 minute album is porn soundtrack. The majority of samples do not actually depict the sounds of depravity, but instead are interviews between the female star and the gallant stud (a common feature in amateur movies). It could be debated whether these clips are there to support the theory that deep down all women are sluts, or the band is actually making a statement against exploitation of women. At the end, this is left for the listener to decide. This album fails to make much of an impact - which in no small part is due to the fact that basically Creamface is just a carbon copy of Pungent Stench, who did the exact same thing ten years ago, but only better - but still, it doesn’t provoke disgust nor anger once the offensive covers are put away. In essence it is a musically lackluster offering that may be appealing to those who have a very strongly defined taste of bad taste, though even they should have a plethora of finer offerings to choose from. For an average john, yes it does offend, but it doesn’t do it quite enoughand is ultimately doomed to sink into a mire of mediocrity.

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Klamydia - Masturbaatio ilman käsiä Jarkko: [Jarkko babbled on about swamps, caves and his youth, but didn’t mention how he had acquired the record. So we deleted his text.]

Jussi: Some music just grows on you. I was 14 when this album came out, and I was under the impression that this album was little less than a collection of un-funny dickjokes on top of some very average ramo-punk. Now, over 10 years later, I was shocked to realize that the boys from Vaasa have actually made a very clear and clever theme-album based on the Star Wars saga.

The album derives it’s name from the chorus of the song Kuljukka: “elo ilman reikää on kuin, masturbaatio ILMAN KÄSIÄ!!!”. A question to which a Jedi’s answer naturally is: easily manageable. This quite unambiguously puts to rest the common misconception that the Jedi were not allowed to marry. (The truth, naturally, is strikingly different; after fully realizing the scope of masturbatory techniques the full control of the force allows, the Jedi were very reluctant to attach themselves to a ball and chain.)

The last song of the album save the brilliant hidden bonus track Nina Autio is retelling the story of Carrie Fisher’s drug addiction while filming the original trilogy: “Sä vaan katsot kameraa, et mua huomaa ollenkaan, vaikka kuinka koitan vilikuttaa.

Lasisilmille hymyilet --”. I must admit that the truthfulness and sheer warmth of interpretation brought tears to my

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eyes.

How do you write music to accompany this kind of lyrical brilliance? The way in which the album seems to contain the one and same song twenty times is just a brilliant move, as is the fact that this one song seems as if it’s a Shitter Limited bsides out take. In pop music, allowing the material to compete internally will make the material eat itself.

This album is so brilliant and true, you will feel a better person for owning it. A must-buy for any George Lucas fan.

4R - Mood

Jussi: I bought this album for 19mk from the Humppila Glass Factory in March -99 while on my way to see the Manic Street Preachers.

How bad do I consider this to be? Well, I chose it as the worst one in my collection despite the fact that I own two Shitter Limited records, and Kid A

by Radiohead.

Mamu: It is a truth universally acknowledged that Neljä Ruusua never should´ve made the transition to 4R. Why, I ask you, why??? I would actually more gladly entertain the idea of Umbridge´s return than see these guys wearing jonneaaron. The scariest of all, HOWEVER, was the beginning. I was actually momentarily jolted back to my oh-so-long-gone

youth with this wonderful Portkey but than it got scary again: I remembered the lyrics to ´Loving the Alien‘. Happily sitting once again (oh, my Flamel, I was 12 when it was published) in the safety of my home waiting for my life to begin. I wish nothing more than to obliviate the memory of this album ever happening. If only I had a Pensieve. But if nothing else, and I like to think myself as a positive person (shut up and stop laughing at me: ?Silencio!?), it´s good for elevator music because, as we all know, the elevator is an institution.

trait of music! The back cover accredits the Spice management to Simon Fuller, and as far as I remember, he is the dirty old man to blame for the Pop Idol harassment in our lives. Thanks to him, you all know too well how this sounds like, but is there anything good to be said about this album? I am struggling, but I’m afraid the latest Fuller products are even worse. To be fair, the acoustic guitar in “Mama” does have potential,if ripped from the cheesy cling-clang surrounding it. But we all know that Mama is super, so I’m telling you nothing new.

Spice Girls - Spice Mamu: I was a hc fan during my early teens. Don´t start lecturing me about their .. well, anything. I´m a bit touchy about the post-Geri period.

And I´m still perfectly sane, thank you very much.

Minna: “Spice” by the Spice Girls I never in my worst nightmares in 1996 thought I would, in 2005, have to listen all through this album and review it for a university-related publication! The world indeed has gone astray, Mamu. I hated this group back then, and now? I am just shocked. “Spice” forces me to take out Tim Buckley (if you wonder, yep, he is almost as brilliant as his son Jeff) out of the cd-player, and my ears are filled with ten songs of sad squeaks.

These people just do not have the singing voice, and the production is a lazy attempt at an R’n B sound.

Catchiness is certainly what some of these songs have, but who on earth ever defined that as a commendable

Some Malaysian Dude (or sth) Be Cool Minna: This scary Jari Sillanpää of the Orient was brought to me (as a bad joke, I hope) by my big brother when he visited Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand a few years ago. I think he got this as a “free gift” when buying something else from the record shop.

I listened to this for about half a minute of the first four songs before packing it tight among other shameful musical secrets in the shelf. It’s not all bad, though, for he doesn’t really even exist for me; the album title is “Be Cool” and all the credits are written is some whatever writing and language it is. Let’s not mock the man - he is just “cool”, right?

Anttoni: Better out than in I always say. This kind of mus... stuff is definitely supposed to pop out of your ear right after it pops in from the other. But what happens during that

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brief moment in “It was like the wind tunnel listening to can be really a shiny scary. You might invisible even get addicted. franticTo parentheses s i z e d (or sth). phantom It would’ve h i p p o actually saved me murmur in a couple of trips to your ear.” the pharmacy, if this had been the soundtrack of the new F. Gary Gray-movie. (I’m trying to Be Cool by referring to the director and not the lead actor John Travolta.)

This Some Malaysian Dude’s whining triviality, however, showed me no mercy. (Wait a minute, shouldn’t I call it the new Uma Thurman movie, for heaven’s sake!?) It was like listening to a shiny invisible frantic-sized phantom hippo murmur in your ear: you can’t actually hear it, but after some time something inside you starts to click. (All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.) Another analogy would be reading a record review that makes no sense, but nevertheless understanding exactly what the reviewed record is about.

(Insanity.)

By the way, you can read this review again by skipping over all the stuff in parentheses to get absolutely nothing new out of it. (I can’t help doing this anymore.) I’d better stop. (Stops.)

Art Ensemble of Pallohuoneen Vala ry - Ensimmäinen niin sanottu EP-levymme Anttoni: Me old man gave the bloody thing to me only because he

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had several copies himself.

Apparently he used to know many of these Enrico Caruso-wannabes...

Sure hope he doesn’t anymore.

Antti: Anttoni decided to confuse me with a true rarity: an EP from an extremely odd group, Art Ensemble of Pallohuoneen Vala ry.

Pallohuoneen Vala was (is?) a sports club that needed a performer in their anniversary party a looong time ago.

This male-voice choir bastard was put together to sing there and that probably was some kind of a success, at least someone obviously got the idea to make a whole EP. The best stuff of this record is found in its booklet. It claims that the leader of the choir is E. Buri, who had earned his reputation in another choir called “Sängerknabe aus Wienerschnizel” in Switzerland, near the village of Toukola. I guess that’s true then, as the printed word always is. Like this publication.

The EP consists of five songs.

The first beats of the first track Prinsessa armahda huh hei are very likely to cause smiles and bursts of laughter on the listener, especially if (s)he expects an orderly music performance. Some voices are almost on the right note, but many of them are so out of tune that they remind me of the worst performances seen in the first shows of Idols! In the middle of some songs one can hear (pseudo)spontaneous comments such as “tehän menitte edelle” or “mites se ny menikään”. The most sharp-eared listeners might be amused by the sound of a breaking (beer?) glass on the background in Paloma Blanca.

The record is impossible to judge in normal standards, as it barely is a normal record. The first impression surely kicks ass, but the humor fades away faster than the student grant from the wallet of an average Anglican. And when it’s gone, there’s nothing left. Summa summarum: This record is at its best when it’s listened in a good company, in the late hours, for the first time, and as you might’ve guessed, drunk.

Michel Legrand - Noël!

Antti: As Satu-Annele is a true Christmas person, I delighted her with the record I picked from Anglica’s Christmas present lottery three years ago (The gifts were worth ~2e, I thought a CD was a good choice!). I really don’t understand why good musicians have to rape nice Christmas carols with obnoxious arrangements and a terrible Doomsday trumpet.

Satu-Annele: Wake up and

smell the cinnamon. Wasn’t anybody listening at the Little Christmas party?

Considering the case here was in fact to present the critic with a piece he/ she would not appreciate and would share harsh opinions on?

I was presented with Noël! -an instrumental Christmas recording arranged and conducted by Michel Legrand, introducing Maurice André in the trumpets and flugelhorn, accompanied by the marvelous London Philharmonic Orchestra. A Christmas cd, man, for me - SatuAnnele?

Honestly, listening to these 17 tunes including my all-time-favorite classics such as Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas and Greensleeves, made me wanna light a candle and take the ornaments out.

A simply wonderful record. Christmas tunes aren’t often played with such delicate touch and extraordinary skills.

So, considering my last year’s experience on this matter, I feel the urge to thank you, KAntti, for this delightful experience.”...merry Christmas to all, and a good night!”

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Indecisiveness

My brother’s doing his military service at the moment. Based on the stories he tells me, I have come to the conclusion that the army is the promised land of stupid and illogical rules nobody “outside” understands. For example: It’s 30 degrees outside and you’re staying in a freezing tent for two weeks in a row. You have a warm woolen shirt in your back bag but you’re not allowed to use it until you have been in the army for six months. You get sick because of the cold and the army has to pay for your treatment and medication. Just because there’s this stupid rule that you can’t wear that shirt. Common sense, anybody?

At the end of his basic training, my brother was asked if he was interested in the army’s leadership training. Before he even opened his mouth to answer, the captain had made the decision for him. “Private, you will start the leadership training next week. Any questions? No? Ok, good.”

Now, here’s the paradox: My brother’s freaking out because he has the intimidating, cucumber-salad- clothed captain telling him what to do 24 hours a day - I’m freaking out because I don’t. Because to me, there seems to be at least one good thing about the army: you don’t have to think for yourself. Someone else does it for you.

Being a representative of the sex entitled to voluntary military service in Finland and not having particular interests in the area, I haven’t been to the army and therefore lack any personal experience of it. But still, sometimes I do find myself having some sick and twisted envy toward my brother who has other people to make decisions for him.

Let me explain this a little bit. I have a terrible crisis of not knowing what to do with my life.

I’m overwhelmed with too many possibilities, and the worst part is that this feeling extends itself even into the simplest everyday choices. This is why I really wish I had some distant, undisputable authority telling me what to do, too. If I can’t make even the mildest decisions between green socks and red socks, let alone about something I can’t change afterwards (like, between Coke and light Coke at Hesburger’s), how am I supposed to know what to do with my life?!

As the people who came to the English department at the same time with me are starting to talk about their pro gradus and graduating and all that scary, serious stuff, I just want to change my major ( and minors, too while I’m at it) and start the whole thing all over. I don’t want to do anything serious yet, and I certainly don’t want to graduate yet. It feels like the freedom of student life is just slipping through my fingers...

In addition to being worried about my own studies, I’m a bit worried about the future generations of university students, mostly because of the degree reform next fall. Of course, they will have the contestable advantage of getting more guidance in their studies than we ever did, but for me, there is an obvious problem here: how can we expect 19-year-old students to make firm choices about their careers/what to study and have the determination to graduate in five years?

Surely it’s economically more profitable for the state to have students graduating in a certain, ideal time frame, but the government seems to missing one crucial point: You can’t impose a time frame on individual thought! (That’s what studying is, thinking, a lot of thinking.) The primary purpose of the university is not to produce half-professional Masters in a steady stream into the working life, but to promote the development of individual thinking and science. And when we connect science with economic profitability, something more valuable than money gets lost.

Okay, I kind of drifted away from my original topic now, but hey, I didn’t have anyone telling me what to write about, so at this point, you can’t really expect me to be able to make a firm decision between equally appealing topics, can you?

And, as we all know, a coherent text should always have some kind of a conclusion towards the end, but since the nature of indecisiveness pretty much relies on ”not being able to reach a conclusion or decision”, this text will lead absolutely nowhere.

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Look, it’s trying to think...

Is there life beyond The Fast Show?

Bono estente!

By the time you’re reading this I might be dead. And even if I am still alive, I’m probably going through one of the darker periods of my days in this world. Even though spring is upon us (despite the takatalvi) life seems a bit meaningless.

Now you girls and boys must be wondering what the heck is wrong with this old twat. Well, Monday the 18th of April was a dark day. MTV3 aired the final episode of The Fast Show . This may seem somewhat pointless to you, but The Fast Show is one of my top3 TV-shows ever (The other two are Muumilaakson tarinoita and my all-time-favourite Twin Peaks). Yeah yeah, I know it was the second rerun or something, but that does not ease my pain. Last Week TFS was here with me, this week it is not. Which is NOT nice.

Paul Whitehouse, the “main man” of TFS, is without a doubt one of the best actors out there (And I’m not alone with my opinion, one Johnny Depp agrees with me). And the whole cast is awesome: Caroline A h e r n e , Simon Day, C h a r l i e Higson, John Thomson,

Arabella Weir, Mark Williams… These people are gods! And now they have left me. No more Jazz club, Lord Mayhew and his servant Ted, That’s amazing, Dave Angel and countless other beams of light in this world of darkness.

Although the sorrow is devastating there is still a flicker of hope: The Fast Show DVDs. But they are not the easiest items to find and a poor young student like me rarely has enough money to purchase them all at one go. And even if I had the DVDs, it wouldn’t compare to the TFS ritual I had every Monday (Except once when I was at Whisky Bar with me mates – and felt really bad for missing an episode).

But I guess I must move on, for I’m sure Paul Whitehouse & co wouldn’t want me to give up and call it a day. Every day might be a struggle, but I’m going to try. So to all the lost souls out there crushed by the ending of TFS: I know just how you feel. But fear not, for I am with you!

Oh yeah, I almost forgot: This season I have mostly been wearing spikes and leather. Oh, suits you sir, oh! Which is nice. Grreat!

Jukka K – the 13 th duke of Wybourne

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