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VA N C O U V E R

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And then I woke up  Andrew Burgos, 67.6%


Archive is Vancouver’s people-powered magazine.

Download the app. Help make the mag.

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H OW A R C H I V E WO R K S Our app finds the most popular photos in Vancouver and we publish them in a monthly magazine.

H OW T H E A P P WO R K S

It’s like Tinder for photography. Swipe up if you like a photo. Swipe sideways if you don’t care. If a photo sucks, swipe it down. You can swipe a photo only once, every swipe is equal, and all swipes are kept secret. Each photo is assigned a score based on these swipes. SUBMISSION DEADLINE

There’s a timer in the app that counts backwards from thirty days. When it reaches zero we stop counting swipes, pull the winning photos off the server, and make the magazine. A week later, copies of Archive can be found in cafés, restaurants, and shops across Vancouver. W H AT TO P H O TO G R A P H

There are four categories for your photos: People, Places, Things, and Monthly. Faces is self-explanatory. If a person is the focus of your photo it belongs in the People category. Places is for photos on a big scale like sunsets, landscapes, beaches, or architecture. Stuff is for the small stuff like food or animals. If the subject of the photo could fit in your living room, it belongs in the Things category.

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Monthly will change every issue. It could be tattoos, the beach, cats, or black and white photos. Its purpose is to make each magazine different. If you’d like to suggest a monthly category, email it to info@elective.ca. W H AT N O T TO P H O TO G R A P H

Don’t be antisocial. Don’t post nudes. Don’t embarrass people. Don’t upload copyrighted material. Don’t post photos with watermarks. Don’t use the service to try to sell products. For fuck’s sake, do NOT post inspirational quotes. There are lots of ways to be a jerk with a camera, please avoid them all. If you encounter a photo that breaks one of these rules you can bring it to our attention by touching the three dots beside the photographer’s name. We will review it as soon as possible. THE PHOTOSTRE AM

The default photostream consists of every photo on the network presented in reverse chronological order (newest to oldest). You can refine your stream at any time by touching the sandwich icon in the top left corner of the app. Browse a category by touching People, Places, or Things. If you want easy access to the photos your friends have submitted, touch the Following filter.

L E A D E R B OA R D

Top Photos is a list of the top 50 images based on score. It resets each month. Top Photographers is a list of people ranked by the average score of their five best photos in a given month. The winner will be interviewed and given a six-page spread to showcase their best photography in the following month’s magazine. CO M M E N T S

We didn’t include commenting in the app because user-generated comment sections often devolve into an orgy of racism and harassment. Instead, we will hand-pick someone from Vancouver each month to provide the text that accompanies the photography in the magazine. That person might be a comedian, a musician, or a bartender. Their profession is irrelevant so long as their comments are insightful, interesting, or funny. If you would like to be the commenter, read the three questions below and send your answers to info@elective.ca. 1. If you could fight one person from Vancouver (past or present, alive or dead) who would it be and why? 2. What is the worst restaurant (or bar) in Vancouver that is secretly good, and why? 3. Use a metaphor or simile to describe how people in Vancouver dress.


TRU E STORIES

W H AT ' S N E W I N T H E A P P

Our readers submit stories about their lives and we publish them. A story should be between 1200 and 1500 words, set in Vancouver, and based on real events. If interested, email a draft of your story to info@elective.ca. We are hiring writers for other elements of the magazine. If you’d like to write for Archive, True Stories is a good way to introduce us to your writing.

You’ll start seeing some ads in the photo stream. We know ads may seem like an annoyance but magazines cost money and we aren’t running a charity here. Somebody’s got to feed the monkey. We also tinkered with the categories this month. We weren’t getting any people in the People section so we changed its name to Faces. Hopefully that will encourage you to send in pictures of actual human beings. We also changed the Things section to Stuff because why the hell not.

F E E D B AC K

Nothing is more valuable than accurate criticism. If you have any comments, complaints, or ideas about how we could make a better magazine or do a better job running Archive please email them to info@elective.ca. I read every message and will respond when I can. BUGS

If the app isn’t working the way you think it should be working, that’s something we want to fix. Archive is still in its early stages and we want to build the best possible experience. If you notice something buggy, think something could be made better, or you want to get involved in other ways please send an email to info@elective.ca. T H E M AG A Z I N E

Archive is a record of the moments that animate life in Vancouver.

S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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VA N C O U V E R

ISSUE 06 PHOTOS SUBMITTED BETWEEN JAN. 27, 2017–MAR. 17, 2017 PUBLISHER

Elective Media Inc.

CTO

Allan Harding allanharding@elective.ca

EDITORS AT LARGE

EIC

Samuel Kerr samuelkerr@elective.ca

COPY EDITOR

Douglas Haddow Michael Mann

John Lucas

DESIGN DIRECTOR

UBC REPRESENTATIVE

Karim Kadi

BUSINESS INQUIRIES

info@elective.ca

Steven Hu

COMPLAINTS

samuelkerr@elective.ca

PRINTING PARTNER

Still Creek Press

VANCOUVER PUBLIC LIBRARY

BRIANNA JOHNSON, 65.0%

ADDRESS

280-1090 West Georgia Vancouver, BC V6E 3V7

archiveapp

www.archive.live

Developed with the participation of Creative BC and the British Columbia Arts Council


Hand Crafted Cocktails & Nigiri Specials 6 POWELL ST. GASTOWN www.di6mond.com diamondgastown

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ISSUE 06

Contents Editor’s Letter

14

Staff Picks

JORDAN AND THE NIGHT LIGHT

10

28 Blow It Out Your Ear With Trevor Risk

With David Stansfield

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32

SAM TRAFFORD, 65.1%

30 In Your Mouth People Comments by the Archive Staff

Adult Colouring Book Art by Rhek

52 Places 64 Volunteer Information

Comments by “Kathy”

By Billy Bowyer

44 Top Photographer

66 Things Comments by Dusty Baker

Barrie Underhill

92 A Vancouver Crossword (with dick jokes) Harrison Mooney and Merlin Von Duck

78

Black & White Comments by the Archive Staff

94 The Slow Sad Death of a Once Great Snack By Doug Haddow

96 Top Rated Photo of Them All

ARCHIVE VANCOUVER IS MADE POSSIBLE WITH THE GENEROUS SUPPORT OF THESE LOCAL BUSINESSES. IF YOU LIKE ARCHIVE SUPPORT OUR FRIENDS.

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YALE ARCHIVE

CASEY ROLSETH, 68.4%


The Charlie Waterproof Moto Jacket

BARODRYWEAR.COM


According to Thomas Mann, “A writer is someone for whom writing is harder than it is for other people.” This quote applies equally to models but in reverse: “A model is someone for whom appearing really, really, ridiculously good-looking is easier than it is for other people.” I mean, she showed up to work without even combing her hair.

Editor’s Letter

Vintage Vibes Matt Schroeter, 71.0%

It Doesn’t Add Up

The advertising business is in a weird place. US digital ad spending will reach $83 billion in 2017, which represents 16% growth over last year. Seems good right? Well, not exactly. Although big advertisers are migrating from traditional platforms like TV and print to digital the shit isn’t spreading evenly across the industry. According to eMarketer, Facebook and Google will account for 103% of all growth in digital ad spending this year, which means the rest of the market is actually shrinking. This doesn’t mean that all digital properties are dying, there are some winners left. But if you look at the industry as a collective, Facebook and Google are ripping our faces off. It makes some sense too. Digital ads are mostly junk and consumers know it. That’s why over 200 million of us have installed adblocking software onto our browsers. Is there a single person in the world who misses pop up ads? There is one digital ad format left that has significant upside: mobile. People have their phones with them everywhere and they use their favourite apps many times over the course of the day. This is the kind of access that makes marketers spray their shorts. Counterintuitively, your phone’s small screen ended up being a benefit to advertisers as well because it caused software engineers to get creative when they built the new advertising products. No more crappy banner ads. No, mobile ads appear native to the format. Instagram ads look just like pictures. Facebook ads look just like your friend’s posts. Yaaaaay, 2017 is a hellscape! Anyway, this letter was a long way of saying you’ll notice mobile ads showing up in your Archive photo stream soon. We know that ads may seem like an annoyance but magazines cost money and we aren’t running a charity here. Somebody’s got to feed the monkey. I’ll leave you with the words of Scott Galloway, “Brands love young people. Why? Because young people are stupid and they’ll spend a lot of money, irrational money, on brands, which translates to margin, which translates to shareholder value.” SAM KERR

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ARCHIVE

STOCKISTS C H I N AT OW N El Kartel – 104 E Pender St

G A S T OW N The Latest Scoop – 159 Water St Save On Meats – 43 W Hastings St

MAIN STREET Still Life – 2315 Main St

YA L E T OW N Small Victory – 1088 Homer St

WEST END Delany’s Coffee House – 1105 Denman St

SOUTH GRANVILLE National Standards – 3012 Granville St

— CHECK OUR WEBSITE OR INSTAGRAM FOR A COMPLETE LIST OF DISTRIBUTION LOCATIONS.

SEMENUK MACK CALISTAN, 71.1%

HOW WE CHOSE THE COVER —


GE T R I G GE T T I G

IT H T IT H T

- PERS ON AL TRAI N IN G BY T IGHT C LU B AT HL E T IC S LET’S GE T YO U STAR T E D Mention “archive17” and save 1 0 % of f yo u r pe rso n a l t ra in in g pa cka g e . Email info@ tightclu bat hle t ics. co m to f in d o u t m o re .

@tightclub

604.620.0209

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SUBSCRIBE TO ARCHIVE VA N C O U V E R $9.95 SHIPPING INCLUDED

If you like Archive, now you can support it as we started a Patreon page to run our subscription service. For $9.95 we will mail you the latest copy of Archive Vancouver as soon as it comes off the press. Shipping is included. Ten bucks may seem like a lot for a magazine but it’s pretty close to what you’d pay for a beer at the Cactus Club and it’s less than a pack of smokes. Hell, I paid $25 for nachos at Colony last week and that’s cheese melted on chips.

If you can’t afford to part ways with 10 bucks but you still want to support Archive, we will take the change in your couch. For more information check www.patreon.com/archivemagazine

Top Photographers is a list of people ranked by the average score of their five best photos in a given month. The winner will be interviewed and given a sixpage spread to showcase their best photography in the following month’s magazine. Rank

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Name

Congratulations to Aaron Von Hagen

on winning a spread in next month’s magazine. If we don’t get ahold of you, please email info@elective.ca

Avg. Score

Rank

Name

Avg. Score

1

Aaron Von Hagen

85 . 8%

6

Nick Ignatev

77.7%

2

Kea Mowat

82 .0%

7

Steph Hunter

77. 2 %

3

Barrie Underhill

80. 3%

8

Marija Bojanic´

77.0%

4

Roy Pat

78 . 4%

9

Sean Dimitrie

77.0%

5

Jess Relkoff

77.9%

10

John Bello

76.7%

ARCHIVE


Easy like Sunday Get sunday cider on tap at BC’s fine and far out establishments.

sundaycider.com


Archive Staff Picks Readers of Archive tell me that they love seeing portraits in the magazine, but pictures of human faces have been highly unpopular on the app lately. To square this circle, I asked the guys to choose a portrait as their staff pick. So, enjoy these fine portraits in spite of their terrible scores.

That feeling when you’re waiting for your Tinder brunch date in the post-Trump era and are furiously googling “what is fourth wave feminism?” just so you have your bases covered. DOUG HADDOW

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S TA F F P I C K S

SELF PORTRAIT SEAN DIMITRIE, 65.2%


the fine jewellery shoppe 217 w.hastings st.|604.681.0047 @cavaliergastown

#HowFarWouldYouGo | @CavalierGastown 217 W.Hastings St. Vancouver, BC


Call me old-fashioned but I think bullying is an important part of human culture. People don’t end up looking as cool as this guy by accident. I doubt he had tattoos on his hands when he was in elementary school. No, he was probably a normie, like the rest of us. If it weren’t for the ceaseless cruelty of some maladjusted child in third grade it’s unlikely this gentleman could have developed the courage or individuality to become so fully self-actualized. A beard like that doesn’t grow itself. SAM KERR

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S TA F F P I C K S

JAKE LEWIS OLIVERMANN, 71.7%


- WHY THE TUCK NOT? www.thetuckshoppe.com | 604.620.6773 | 237 Union St. Vancouver, BC


Posing recently dead relatives for commemorative photos was a thing in Victorian England. Super weird. And all I want to know about this girl is whose arm is that? DAVID STANSFIELD

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S TA F F P I C K S

MARCELINE ON POLAROID DAVE DEE , 62.7%


2321 MAIN STREET • WWW.FOXCABARET.COM

All Photos © Lindsay’s Diet www.lindsaysdiet.com

A TWO FLOOR VENUE + NIGHTCLUB IN THE HEART OF MOUNT PLEASANT FOXCABARET

FOXCABARET

FOXCABARET

FOXCABARET


STOP DALI SHAW , 57.4% “Sorry, we’ve got to redo the photo. You covered the McCain’s frozen punch with snow again.” TREVOR RISK

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S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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I had a friend who moved to Korea to become a male model when he was 19. After six months of failing to find real modeling work he took a job on a Korean game show. They dressed him up like a video game superhero and made him chase game show contestants around an obstacle course with a gun that shot tennis balls. I get the feeling that if he had a Korean video game superhero girlfriend she would look like this girl.

VIENNA ROMALIS

THOMAS BULLOCK, 69.4%

KARIM KADI

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$3.95 TACOS ALL DAY


There were layoffs at the Vancouver Sun and Province recently. It’s a terrible thing. Journalism is a vital element of a functioning liberal democracy. We are all poorer when fewer journalists are reporting on our city. Having said that, it’s no reason to jump off the Lions Gate Bridge. I mean, a beautiful woman is toying with her hair and staring at you. Climb back over the guardrail. Suicide isn’t the answer. BILLY BOWYER

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@PARALLEL49BEER PARALLEL49BREWING.COM FACEBOOK.COM/PARALLEL49BREWING @PARALLEL49BEER


I’ve always been a fan of girls who build their personal brand in the mold of Björk. You just know this member of Tilda Swinton’s squad knows how to party. “Oh, Tilda and I had THE most DIVINE evening—we spoke to each other entirely through gramophones and ate kumquats off traditional Bedouin swords”. That, or they watched Road House and ran a train on a Costco family pack of Doritos Sweet Chili Heat. I bet her boyfriend looks like Jeff Goldblum. DUSTY BAKER

MOODY BRIANNA JOHNSON, 55.5%

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919 Granville Street www.studiorecords.ca @studiogranville


PAVEL BOIKO, 71.0% VINCE STAPLES

BLOW IT OUT YOUR EAR with Trevor Risk Local man describes everything terrible about the music business in Vancouver. 28

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The Music Media Is Pretty Much Dead

H

istory is remembered incorrectly. As historical autodidacts like Chuck Klosterman like to point out, history is not exclusively written by the winners, it’s also heavily written by the critics. For instance, if you grew up in the 1990s and you ask someone way younger than yourself about what they know about music of that era, there’s always just one answer: “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. In fact, looking back, based on critics’ voices, you can probably make a case for everything being either post or pre that song. Now, ask the same person about Boyz II Men, and most won’t really know what you’re talking about. The grunge song peaked at number 6 on the Hot 100, and the boy band set crazy record-industry records throughout the decade (not to mention making a sweet cameo on an otherwise underwhelming Christmas episode of The Fresh Prince). What’s exciting for some (and nerve-wracking for others) is this structure is no longer functional. We are currently living in an age where critics have almost no influence on the music we listen to or industry itself and everybody involved is at fault. Do you have the kind of friends who act like the sun shines out of your urethra no matter what you say or do? Those sycophants will turn you into a pinwheeling psychopath if you let them. As humans we need to know that we’re screwing things up, so we can navigate our own morality. Critics used to do this in music. They used to give bad reviews and good reviews and there was variety on the media spectrum. Now, 90% of all posts on music are just “This exists”. There is no good and bad to weigh in on. I worked for an American PR firm for three years, and I would write press releases every day, and every day I saw my exact words copied and pasted in major publications. This was infuriating but not because I wasn’t getting credit. It was frustrating because my press releases were not critiques. They were basic descriptions of the music, and as the toooften-repeated trope goes, “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” Since these posts didn’t offer opinions, the public mostly tuned them out. Readership of publications and blogs is lower than it has ever been before. All the best music writers of the late ’90s like Caitlin Moran have turned to larger issues with more depth and a higher click rate. Back in the time before websites, promo albums went out to music publications about three or four months before

the magazines hit the streets, so critics had to write their reviews without knowing how their peers felt. When these editorials were finally published they featured a wide variety of opinion and criticism that fostered the discourse and excitement from the readers and customers. It drove the industry. Now, it’s all about (hashtag) content. One big publication gets something up online, then they all do, and if you look closely most of the language is the exact same, save a few of the more established outlets. It’s a race to get something out first, or the most, or exclusive. (The latter of which hinders the work’s ability to go viral for the afternoon.) It’s not just the critics and the infrastructure that have let this lapse. Musicians are equally at fault. Since the dawn of Twitter, if you are a musician, you can turn your fan base into a little echo-chamber army. Don’t like what some critic said about you? Well, your fragile ego can use the power of numbers to shame and doxx that critic, and your sycophantic pearl-clutching can continue, and you can be an ouroboros of self-validation. Or to use a more apt metaphor, you can piss in your own mouth all you like. Think you, as a reader, are off the hook? Absolutely not. This is your fault too. Why would you read a 1,500-word nuanced critique of a new album by a veteran wordsmith when what you really want is to smash that share button on a video and virtue signal to your social feeds that you are aligned with either third-wave feminism or big, greased-up butts? (In the case of the Beyoncés and Iggy Azaleas of the world, both.) It’s sad lately to see so many mid-level acts mortgage their lives to hire a snakey publicist because they so desperately want to be on Stereogum like all the other similar acts they worshipped in high school. PR doesn’t lead anymore, it supports. Obviously the pop stars need publicists, but they need publicists in the way Tom Cruise does. There was a time where I could see a band at Pub 340 with only 11 other people in the audience and then suddenly they’re “Best New Music” on Pitchfork and playing 800-capacity hard-seaters. Whereas last time I remember being a part of getting an act on one of those sites, all it ended up achieving was 36 SoundCloud streams. Young band, perhaps take that $2,000 a month and spend it on butt grease, because those sites have all the influence of a Facebook post at this point.

@ARCHIVEAPP

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with David Stansfield

David began his wine career as a teenage cellar hand 20 years ago. Today, he works as an independent sommelier and is a co-host of the popular Sunday School wine school. When not ruminating on the grape, his interests include spy novels, escape rooms, contact juggling, Slovenian design, and beer.

Bella hits all of the good things. Dude exclusively makes single vineyard, single variety sparkling wines that are as focused as Murakami is on blowing the minds of college students with poor taste in books.

Do one thing well. That’s solid advice. The problem is which thing. Focus is not my forté. My life resembles a browser with infinite tabs. Lately, I answer “busy” to the question “how’s it going?” Busy is the new good, and that’s bad. I had a friend in high school—Crazy Steve—who thought everyone in the world should be in the top ten of something. I really like that idea. It’s just ambitious enough. Steve picked knife throwing. He thought the competition would be beatable, unlike, say, sprinting or serial killing. I’m not sure how it turned out for Steve. I sometimes imagine him throwing a thousand knives a day, mastering his practice, moving up the ranks, but that’s probably not what happened. Like legions of skinny white nerds before him, he moved to Japan. Not to throw knives, unfortunately, but to teach English. I hope he’s the tenth best English teacher in Tokyo.

You don’t need to be told this is good. It is in fact the single most praised sandwich in Vancouver sandwich history. It changed the game. Thank god for that. You can’t be all things to all people. I tried in Grade 9 and it didn’t work. Nobody thought I was cool until I picked a lane. Speaking of which, have you seen that McDonald’s is a café now? Some sort of worse Starbucks with a salad bar where once there were ball pits. Just do your damn thing Ronald.

Bella Keremeos Sparkling Chardonnay $35 at various private stores

Sour Diesel $11/gram at various dispensaries

When Haruki Murakami writes a novel, he gets up every day at 4 a.m., writes for five to six hours, then runs 10 km. Stephen King takes it a bit easier. He starts every morning at 8 a.m. and knocks out page after page without stopping until his late afternoon 4 km walk. The guy got run over by a van in 1999 and barely slowed down. Yet, it’s taken me six weeks to say that Bella makes really good wine. Writing about wine is stupid. There are a few (and only a few) things about wine that are cool. The rest is just wanking.

My favourite thing to do when my wife is out of town is smoke a joint with my hippie neighbour then clean the whole fucking house. Just lock in and scrub, man. Fifteen-year-old me would not be impressed, but screw that guy. He took his mom for granted. She kept that place super tight without even the occasional puff. It seems counterintuitive, but if you’re looking for short term help with focus, a little hit can help. Just choose the right strain. A heady sativa like the classic Sour Diesel does the trick.

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ARCHIVE

Porchetta with Salsa Verde and Crackling $9.50 at Meat & Bread


R ADULT COLOURING BOOK “Handshakes From The Fakes”

Art by Rhek www.rhekcreative.com

@ARCHIVEAPP

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PEOPLE

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PEOPLE


Each month, we choose people from Vancouver to supply the comments that accompany the photos in the magazine. If you would like to be the commenter, check the questionnaire on page 4 and send your answers to info@elective.ca.

Commenter of the Month

A R C H I V E S TA F F

WAI-LEE DAGGER MOUTH DRAWERS, 54.0%

FRIDAY EVENING URBAN REC BEACH VOLLEYBALL WITH THE CREW ROY PAT, 83.7%

CHARLIE ANTONIO

OLIVERMANN, 80.6%

: I’ve always maintained, unless Lemmy or Slash are in a room, I’m the coolest person in the room. With Lemmy dead I was prepared to climb the coolness rankings, and then this guy showed up. I mean, he’s wearing A TURTLENECK! That’s pure uncut Colombian coolness. How am I supposed to compete with that?

When you work on a publishing schedule you find out that people are unreliable. This month, the professionally funny person we asked to supply the commentary for the People section didn’t show up to work. So that responsibility fell onto the Archive staff. We apologize in advance.

S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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: This guy hiding in the bushes wouldn’t seem so innocuous if you knew he wasn’t wearing any pants.

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PEOPLE


CONSUMED

MEGAN KWAN, 76.8%

ZONE OUT

DYLAN MARANDA, 76.7%

: Two things: 1) When I look at this photo I assume her dress is fluttering through the air because she just ripped an epic fart. 2) I am eight years old.

VIOLENT ZEPHYR

JOHN BELLO, 77.8%

@ARCHIVEAPP

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36

PEOPLE

DUSK

KAT GRABOWSKI, 80.1%


WILD CONNECTION

: It won’t matter how artistic or talented this kid is at “tagging” or “bombing” or whatever the nerds call it these days unless he realizes that there are only two acceptable forms of graffiti in Vancouver: 1) A coil of poop, complete with stink lines and flies. 2) MOHINDER.

KAT GRABOWSKI, 77.9%

CHILD ON THE STREET NICOLAS SEGURA, 80.3%

S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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THE OBSERVERS

CITY BOOTER

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PEOPLE

SARAH WHITLAM, 78.4%

BARRIE UNDERHILL, 77.9%


UFD

KEA MOWAT, 80.6%

Archive: With hard work anyone can achieve greatness. This guy can do a flip on his snowboard. Do you think he landed that trick the first time he tried it? Of course not. He put in the work. And you know that guy who has two of the top-ten scores on Buck Hunter at the local watering hole? Do you think that happened overnight? No, it took me six months of practice. And now my initials will be on that leaderboard forever (unless someone unplugs the machine).

@ARCHIVEAPP

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RED IS BEST

AARON VON HAGEN, 77.8%

: You might consider the people who died at Klendathu next time you decide to dress up like one of the arachnids from Starship Troopers. Besides, it’s interspecies appropriation.

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PEOPLE


NICK ZATOR, 79.5% ONE WITH NATURE.

: This is the second time in a row that a model standing in a bush made it into the magazine. And, this is the second time in a row I’ve abstained from making a bush joke about pubic hair.

S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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TRISTAN

42

OLIVER MANN,80.3%

PEOPLE


SMOKE AND MIRRORS

SAM TRAFFORD, 76.7%

THOUGHTS & DREAMS

JOHN BELLO, 76.5%

: If you look closely at the background of this photo you’ll notice a weird dude walking around in his underwear. What the hell is up with that?

: As we grow old things get taken from us. For example, I want to chug a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red and get dressed up like an extra from Snowpiercer and bounce off a wall in some cool back alley. But I can’t, because I’m old.

@ARCHIVEAPP

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Top Photographer Top Photographer is a ranking based on the average score of a person’s best five photos in a given month. The winner will be awarded this section of the magazine to do with as they please. Last month’s winner was Barrie Underhill.

BARRIE UNDERHILL @upperleftexpolorer

W H O A R E YO U A N D W H AT DO YO U D O W H E N YO U A R E N ’ T TA K I N G P I C TU R E S?

I am originally from England, and I moved to Vancouver 10 years ago after spending a couple years traveling. It was the perfect spot to make my home, and now my wife and I have two little girls to enjoy the outdoors with. Since moving to Vancouver, I spend most of my free time exploring woods and water, generally getting lost somewhere. C A N YO U G I V E U S A T I P O N H OW TO TA K E A G R E AT P H O TO? W H AT K I N D O F C A M E R A D O YO U U S E ?

I’ve been shooting with Canon since my first film camera. Currently I use a Canon 5d MkIII. My biggest advice is shoot all the time, learn your camera, and get rooted in good techniques. Get immersed in the photographic community. There are so many solid photographers and editors out there to learn from and be inspired by. Oh, and buy good glass.

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ARCHIVE


W H O I S YO U R FAVO U R I T E L O C A L P H O TO G R A P H E R A N D W H Y ?

W H AT ’ S YO U R FAVO U R I T E P L AC E TO H AV E A B E E R I N VA N CO U V E R ?

This is a tough one. There are a lot of great local photographers. I’ll give you two. Tom Hill Photography (@tomhill_photography): his technique and editing are something else. Jon West (@Jonbeeotch): a very talented photographer and videographer with some outstanding aerial shots.

Another tough one. We are spoiled for good beer in this city, so the list is pretty huge. But I think I have to say Alibi Room. (Also it has arguably the best burger in town!)

W H AT D O YO U L OV E A B O U T VA N CO U V E R ?

The Sunshine Coast. It has beautiful hikes to explore, warm lakes to swim in, and I always love to stop at Persephone Brewing Co. for a beer on the way to the ferry.

I love its proximity to adventure, be it mountains, lakes, ocean, or city—they are all so close. I love that it has a solid outdoor community that is committed to getting out there, and making the wild more accessible while taking care of it. W H AT D O YO U H AT E A B O U T VA N CO U V E R ?

Not a lot really, I wouldn’t mind some better drivers and a little less rain, though that does make for some great fog photos.

YO U S E E M TO S P E N D A L O T O F T I M E O U T D O O R S , C A N YO U S U G G E S T A CO O L P L AC E I N B C F O R U S TO V I S I T.

I F YO U CO U L D C H A N G E O N E T H I N G A B O U T A R C H I V E , W H AT WO U L D I T B E ?

More exposure. There is such great local photographic talent out there, it would be nice to see more of it in print.

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Each month, we choose people from Vancouver to supply the comments that accompany the photos in the magazine. If you would like to be the commenter, check the questionnaire on page 4 and send your answers to info@elective.ca.

Commenter of the Month

“ K AT H Y ” For fear of a backlash against her scathing commentary, Kathy has chosen to hide her identity. She is a server at a popular local chain of restaurants. Birthed out of a vat of amniotic fluid in Maple Ridge alongside her current crop of co-workers, Kathy will be retired when her life-clock expires this November.

Kathy: One upside to snow in Vancouver is it keeps the dummies off the Granville strip. Don’t get me wrong, I like to watch drunk chongos with frosted tips punch each other in the face as much as the next gal but back when I was a city worker we were tasked with washing vomit off the streets on Sunday morning. It’s a shocking amount of puke and Pita Pit looks a lot better on the way down.

STARRY SELF-PORTRAITS

AARON VON HAGEN, 87.3%

THE CENTRE OF VAN - IN WHITE YUYA PECO TAKEDA, 82.5%

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GIANT PAVEL BOIKO, 82.1%

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OWEN YIN, 80.5%


ROCKY ROAD AARON VON HAGEN, 86.4%

Kathy: *Not pictured: white guy with dreads and an Asian-inspired belly button tattoo who is failing to build an inuksuk and wondering why his parents hate him so much. But he’s too ashamed to move back to Rimouski.

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DEEP WINTER KEA MOWAT, 81.9%

Kathy: I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe— typically when I pick up shifts at my employer’s Yaletown location. I also served Denis Villeneuve once and told him he better not fuck up Blade Runner by sticking in a bunch of aliens who speak via circular ink splatters and look like penis-trees.

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PASTEL SUNSET STEPH HUNTER, 82.4%

TRIFECTA

AARON VON HAGEN, 86.4%

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CALLAGHAN LAKE. AARON VON HAGEN, 84.4%


Kathy: “Oh you want proof? Here’s your proof, if God existed he would have done a ‘wicky-wicky-wicky’ turntable move on Planet Earth by now.” - Richard Dawkins

Kathy: You see the sun peeking through the majestic tree spires on a quiet fall afternoon, I see the Norwegian Black Metal band Immortal tightening up their wizard belts, spiky boots and witch hats as they shred the first chord of “All Shall Fall” kicking off an absolutely gnarly forest concert. We view the world through a different lens, indeed.

BOWEN ISLAND

EMMETT SPARLING, 83.1%

MAGICAL FOREST

BARRIE UNDERHILL, 82.7%

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NIGHTS AT PORTEAU COVE

AARON VON HAGEN, 80.1%


Kathy: Is this picture taken from the secret orgy beach near Prospect Point that my coward of a father told me about, or the secret orgy sulphur pile that my egg-smelly mother told me about?

REFLECTIONS TYLER WEBB, 81.2%

WORLD’S COLLIDE. AARON VON HAGEN, 84.8% S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

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SIWASH ROCK STEVE DYNIE, 82.8%

Kathy: The legend of Siwash Rock doesn’t make any sense. I mean, Skalsh the Unselfish’s reward for being unselfish was that he got turned into a rock? What kind of reward is that? I always preferred the urban legend about the two kids who climbed Siwash and got stranded. The first kid starved to death and the second kid had to eat his friend just to say alive. The taste of human flesh changed him. The boy became obsessed.

SIWASH ROCK ROY PAT, 83.3%

When he finally escaped from Siwash Rock he couldn’t reintegrate into society because of his desperate craving for long pig so he returned to Stanley Park where he has been feeding on homeless people for the last 50 years. I’m not sure what this urban legend is supposed to mean but it makes more sense than some unselfish chief getting turned to stone.

Kathy: Ugh, paddleboards. Why is everyone so active now, and why do they have to rub it in my face? I guess kayaking didn’t activate the core? Slack-lining on Kits Beach not enough of a challenge? Acro yoga, anyone? Nama-stay in bed, thanks.

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PADDLING INTO AN OIL PAINTING

BARRIE UNDERHILL, 84.1%


— READER SUBMITTED STORY

Volunteering Information By Billy Bowyer

B

ack in my day, men’s underwear was important. In 1991 Mark Wahlberg made an overnight transition from laughable Funky Bunch pop bro to international sex symbol by posing in a pair of Calvin Klein tighty whiteys. The photo caused a major shift in undergarment fashion for people of a certain age. Before Wahlberg, we wore boxers. After that campaign my generation had no choice but to sacrifice testicular comfort for the unparallelled sexiness of overpriced, designer, nut-huggers. When I arrived at UBC I was relieved to find a small group of likeminded individuals who shared my homoerotic obsession with overpriced underwear; I joined a fraternity. Most outsiders imagine fraternities the way they’re portrayed in cinema, which is almost exactly right. It was a drinking club full of man-babies who were pathologically obsessed with introducing sorority girls to our expensive ginch. One aspect of fraternities that the movies left out, however, was the amount of volunteer work the pledges were forced to do. Public service had two main objectives from the fraternity’s perspective. First, it helped repair reputational damage the organization would inevitably suffer when a man-baby did something socially unacceptable on campus. Second, it was an easy way to torture pledges. To reach the unattainable quota of volunteer work, pledges were expected to do just about everything. The best job was Night Walk, a service provided by the university that ensured undergrads had safe passage back to their dorm rooms after a night of drinking at a campus bar. If nothing else, Night Walk was an excellent way to meet women. Nobody knew we were forced to volunteer so the outside world assumed we were good people who actually cared about the safety of our fellow students. A perfect cover. The

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only downside was we had to stay sober. The worst job was Campus Cleanup, which involved a reflective vest, tongs, a white bucket, and collector’s obsession with cigarette butts. The task was described as volunteer work but it was more like the form of humiliation punishment associated with shoplifting in the American south. One cold morning in January the pledges were sent out to volunteer as traffic-control personnel at a half marathon taking place near UBC. I was positioned with a partner on Chancellor Boulevard about halfway between Wesbrook Mall and University Hill Elementary. Our job was to stand at the intersection and make sure passing cars didn’t hit the runners. Not exactly a challenging assignment but it was 6:30 a.m., I had a brutal hangover, and it was fucking snowing. I didn’t get hangovers much back then because 18-year-olds have indestructible livers, but this was an exception because the previous night involved all-youcan-eat wings, a half bottle of sambuca, bottomless Long Island iced teas, and passing out on the kitchen floor at the fraternity house. Anyway, I was standing in the intersection holding my stop sign and battling a case of adult-onset fetal alcohol syndrome when my insides began sending a message. It wasn’t a subtle suggestion, my gut was making a threat. As the feeling shifted from my stomach to my bowels, the message’s meaning became clear: unless you want to shit your pants you need to find a bathroom, now. Surprisingly, the delicate mixture of hot-wings, Long Island iced tea, and sambuca wasn’t sitting right. I penguin-walked across the street to the other pledge who was working with me and said, “I’ve gotta take a dump, you mind watching the corner for a minute?”


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Our readers submit stories about their lives and we publish them. A story should be between 1200 and 1500 words, set in Vancouver, and based on real events. If interested, email a draft of your story to info@elective.ca. We are hiring writers for other elements of the magazine too. If you’d like to write for Archive, True Stories is a good way to introduce us to your writing.

“No problem. But, where you gonna go?” “What do you mean?” “Gage Towers are like a mile away and U-Hill’s just as far in the other direction. It’s nothing but houses around here.” He was right, the neighbourhood was purely residential. On foot, I was at least 10 minutes from the nearest public toilet. I looked around for a taxi but it was 6:45 a.m. at UBC and it was snowing. A cab wasn’t coming. My need to crap seemed to compound upon itself. I looked at my friend and said, “Ah fuck, I won’t make it back. I gotta ring a doorbell.” It wasn’t such a bad idea. I mean, asking a stranger if I could use their toilet was clearly suboptimal but at least I was carrying a stop sign. Who could say no to a volunteer? The fact that I was in a neighbourhood full of mansions might work to my benefit too. Rich people love volunteers because volunteering is so similar to slavery. Hell, I was just the kind of selfless young do-gooder who deserved a moment on a millionaire’s luxurious golden mansion toilet. They’d understand, from the lowliest peasant to the mightiest pharaoh everybody needs to shit, right? I waddled from my place on the corner towards the nearest house, a stately Tudor with a manicured garden. I followed a stone walkway across the yard to a small staircase which led up to the front door. After a deep breath I pressed my finger against the doorbell, straightened my reflective vest, and moved the stop sign to the front of my stomach to ensure the homeowner would recognize my volunteer work bonafides when she opened the door. But nobody came. After a glance through the window into the empty living room I rang the doorbell again, twice in rapid succession. Waiting helplessly seemed to amplify my need for a bathroom. Simple discomfort mutated into a painful twist of nausea. I winced and began to sweat as I pinched my butt cheeks together and shuffled my feet in search of a posture that would alleviate the agony. There wasn’t much time left. I decided to try the back door. It was a very large house and it was possible that the residents couldn’t hear the doorbell because they were sitting down for breakfast.

Presenting myself at their back door in the middle of a meal wasn’t the best way to gain access to a toilet but I was desperate. At the side of the house I found a path that flanked the driveway and proceeded past the garage into the back yard. I picked up the pace to a jog-shuffle, pausing momentarily to look through a window as I passed the garage. The car was gone. A sharp pain coursed through my intestines and I buckled over. I was no longer in charge, my bowels were calling the shots. I doubled back to the garage and pulled open the door and took refuge from the falling snow. The floor was made of smooth white concrete and the room was empty save for an orderly pile of boxes in the corner. I pulled down my pants, leaned my back up against the wall and crouched into the chair position. Then it happened all at once. Last night’s bad behaviour escaped my body with the unrestrained force of a geyser. It felt like I was sandblasting a hole into the floor. A wave of relief started in my abdomen and washed out to my extremities, like a doctor had reset 10 dislocated joints all at once. The intensity of the moment caused me to forget the act of defecation is usually accompanied by some involuntarily peeing. Only after I looked down did I realize that I had pissed all over my shoes, pants, and underwear. Since there wasn’t any toilet paper in the garage I took off the underwear and used them to wipe my ass, then I dropped them on the floor beside the pile of shit and took off. I walked back to the corner, resumed my volunteer work, and recounted the story to my partner. For the remainder of our shift we smiled in anticipation across the road at one another, hoping the next car that drove down Chancellor Boulevard would pull into the driveway. We could only imagine the look of disgust on the homeowner’s face when he stepped out of his European sedan and discovered that a vagrant had left a massive pile of shit in his pristine garage. Better still would be the look of confusion when he realized the vagrant had wiped his ass with a sexy pair of Calvin Klein nut-huggers.

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THE BEACHED DOLPHIN MARC DE MONTREUIL, 79.8%

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Each month, we choose people from Vancouver to supply the comments that accompany the photos in the magazine. If you would like to be the commenter, check the questionnaire on page 4 and send your answers to info@elective.ca.

Commenters of the Month

DUSTY BAKER Dusty is best known for taking part in the world’s first ever high five on October 2nd 1977. Baker is also the pseudonym of a software engineer who works in Gastown and would like to remain anonymous.

Dusty: Don’t worry, before I notified the coast guard about this shipwreck, I went into the cabin and pilfered all the canned Beefaroni and 1970s porno mags. YOU HOLD THE WORLD IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND MARIJA BOJANIĆ, 73.5%

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BOLD JESS RELKOFF, 74.6%

CHRIS BARKER, 77.1% Dusty: Bears are incredible, particularly if you see them in their natural environment. One time, I watched a bear approach a stranger in a bar and shove his hand down the guy’s pants. Then the bear literally led the guy out of the bar by his wiener. Junction can get pretty wild on Saturday night.

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HOLD ON PAVEL BOIKO, 75.0%


EAST SIDE FLEA

SARAH WHITLAM, 71.4%

SPEED SEAN DIMITRIE, 73.7% 70

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NICK IGNATEV, 76.1% HELLO HUMAN

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JOANNA RICKARD, 79.1% PEEK A BOO

Dusty: It looks like this dog has pink eye, and now I can’t stop laughing about the sicko who farts on his own dog’s pillow. Or someone else’s dog’s pillow, for that matter.


RAYS CASEY ROLSETH, 74.9%

Dusty: How come some birds like this whiskey jack are so chill while other ones are total boners? Geese, for example, are uncivilized barbarians. I watched a goose chase a little girl across a park once. It was hissing and honking and spitting everywhere so I was like, “Yo, chill, goose.” But it didn’t listen.

THE WHISKEY JACK KEA MOWAT, 71.3%

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KIMBERLY LOW, 78.3%

TOM THE CROW SEAN DIMITRIE, 78.3%

Dusty: If I had a nickel for every time I got in a shouting match with a crow, I could buy a pellet gun and end my crow problem.

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SEAGULLS MARIA HAGEN-ISAAC, 74.2%

WEST COAST JESS RELKOFF, 82.1%

Dusty: Do people still call a thong sticking out of the back of a girl’s jeans a “whale tail”, or does that fall under the category of the whole “body-shaming” thing my gross lumpy niece won’t shut up about?


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THIS IS STACKS THE POOCH

STEPH HUNTER, 71.2%


DUCK 76

CHELSEA MCKENZIE, 75.3% THINGS


TULIPS FOR VANCOUVER SNOWPOCALYPSE

NIGHT SKY FROM THE ICE ROAD

JENA LEE, 72.3%

STEPH HUNTER, 80.0%

Dusty: Call me old-fashioned but I find the northern lights terrifying. While we’re on the topic of weird stuff, I think fire is magic. And women voting, what’s up with that?

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MY PAL SID

SAM ROBERTSON, 77.2%

B &W

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Monthly

Monthly is a category that changes every issue. It could be cats, the beach, your lunch, or concert photos. It’s purpose is to make every magazine feel different. Last month’s category was Black and White. We chose this category to celebrate the two distinct shades, highlighting the tension of our increasingly polarized city as we limp towards a provincial election. Next issue’s theme is Tattoos. Get ready for these pages to be filled with triangles on wrists, feathers on sides, dreamcatchers on thighs, and Beyoncé lyrics on underboobs.

: There’s this scene in Planet Earth 2 where a giraffe goes HAM on a lioness—kicks it right out of the air! I defy anyone to watch that scene and not yell out “BOOYASKASHA!!” while spilling scalding hot tea all over my daughter. PEACEFUL JESS RELKOFF, 77.0%

FREEDOM

SEAN DIMITRIE, 77.0% @ARCHIVEAPP

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CALEB FRIESEN, 77.1% SKYTRAIN UNDERGROUND PORT MANN BRIDGE CHRISTINE GIESBRECHT, 78.0%

ESCALATOR IS A BEAUTIFUL REASON TO BE HAPPY NICK IGNATEV, 85.5%

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QUEEN ELIZABETH PARK

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JEFF FITZGERALD, 78.2%

SAM TRAFFORD, 79.1%


: You know how when someone says the words, “pink elephant”, you can’t help but picture a pink elephant in your head? The Bloedel Conservatory looks like a breast. Try to unsee that. VANCOUVER VIEWPOINT TEE MISSNOMER, 76.9%

THE BEACH PAUL D CLARKE, 76.7% @ARCHIVEAPP

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WALK WITH ME

DANIKA LEE, 77.0%

: Did they take this photo with a drone?

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SEYMOUR

MARC DE MONTREUIL, 77.6%

: I was recently in Toronto and overheard a lady speaking with some poor customer rep from the CN Tower about how she specifically travels to cities that have revolving restaurants. “Everywhere I go, I just HAVE to revolve, you know?” What kind of weirdo does a thing like that? It’s like she enjoys watching painfully awkward 16-year-olds on their first date.

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BUNCH OF LAZY BIRDS... GET A JOB JEFF FITZGERALD, 79.1%

: I got my first BJ under that bridge. I didn’t know the girl well and she was severely bloated from being in the water for three days. But to this day, when I smell unagi, I still dream of that wild summer night. OH BLOATY I MISS YA.

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WATER WALL

STEVE DYNIE, 81.5%

RAMEN GOGIRO ON DUNSMUIR STREET

CALEB FRIESEN, 79.4%


FOGGY VANCOUVER

AARON VON HAGEN, 82.6% : Why does this skyline look like it’s wearing a waistcoat, a fedora, and a pair of DC sneakers with the fat laces? We get it, neck-beard, you vape.

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SY PARK, 78.1%


CATCH ME OUTSIDE

NICK IGNATEV, 80.3%

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SNOW WHITE IN BLACK AARON VON HAGEN, 76.7%


SNOWPOCALYPSE CONTINUES YUYA PECO TAKEDA, 76.5%

100 SECONDS OF VANCOUVER

PAUL D CLARKE, 76.3%

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A VANCOUVER CROSSWORD

Puzzle by Harrison Mooney. Edited by Merlin Von Duck.

ACROSS 1 7 10 14 15 17 18 19 20 21 22 24 26 27 30 31 32 34 39 42 43 44 45 47 49 52 53 54 56 58 62 64

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“There was no other option for me” Catchphrase of Cathy Cuisine of Vancouver’s Maenam and Kin Kao “___ of the North” North Shore’s twin peaks* With 18-across, Russian defenceman who’s the tallest Vancouver Canuck of all-time* See 17-across Online magazine known for its contrarian pitches She ruined the Beatles Track before “Lean on Me” on Bill Withers’ Still Bill Like radios that play both TSN 1040 and 99.3 The Fox ___Cloth (vintage-inspired women’s clothing site) Kitsilano street that’s home to Chewie’s, Nook and The Local Former Canuck Cody, who was traded for Zack Kassian ___Pen Another name for Athena WWE wrestler Flair How payments are made at most Vancouver dispensaries Vancouver’s tallest building* Wife (and stepdaughter) of director Woody SFU or UBC, to a Brit Bust ___ (ejaculate) Henrik Sedin, in 2009-10 Place to rest one’s balls? Bs < ___ < GBs Its capital is Charlottetown (abbr.) The Big ___ (Pitcher Randy Johnson) Husband of Bathsheba who died in battle ___ Margaritas (Kitsilano restaurant) It might be found in a shoe on a B.C. beach Building at 128 West Pender that was the tallest in the British Empire in 1912* Granville Island art installation comprised of six silos, whose name also applies to each of this puzzle’s starred clues Inuit sculpture in English Bay* It’s a question of consent ___ Nostra They can be black or special Jitters

LAST MONTH’S ANSWERS

WITH DICK JOKES

DOWN 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 16 20 23 25 27 28 29

Places that had no room for Baby Jesus Call for, as a cab Canadian Paul, who wrote Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” Response to 66-across, in bed Carved poles at Capilano Suspension Bridge and YVR Quebec home to a Mohawk uprising and a Canadian cheese Abbr. on a business envelope, perhaps Google web browser Comedy partner for Peele Place for a double double, colloquially Corny G-rated Hentai “What’s old ___ again” Singing the praises of Some American hotels “Father ___ them, for they know not what they do” It’s like an asshole, according to an old adage Malcolm’s dad and 2001’s computer Hodgepodge “Whip It” band

33 VPD police chief before Palmer 35 Great place to buy overpriced, handmade crap 36 Randy Bachman’s “You ___ Seen Nothing Yet” 37 Swing around, as a mast 38 It leads to suffering, according to Yoda 40 David Duchovny, Charlie Sheen and Bunny Lebowski, for three 41 Pollster Reid who lives in West Vancouver 46 Coquihalla Highway accident involving many cars 48 Act as a go-between 49 Trevor Risk article topic on page 28 of this magazine 50 “24K Magic” singer Mars 51 One may get congested 55 One of Alaska’s Aleutian Islands 57 Boats like Noah’s 59 Where you might see Cobie Smulders, the Canucks, and advertisements 60 Oklahoma tribe 61 Judgmental sounds 63 The Guess ___ 64 Spirit served at Long Table Distillery

SPANISH BANKS SELFIE AARON VONHAGEN, 78.4%


SALLY ELVIS WONG PROFESSIONAL REAL ESTATE AGENT • 職業地產代理人 Investment Property Yoda • 投資地產界的“尤達大師”

Stop Thinking Big. Did you know that “housing crisis” and “housing opportunity” are the same word in Chinese? When census data revealed that there were 65,000 empty homes in Vancouver some alarmists called it a “crisis.” The Peebus Group called it an “opportunity” to fix the empty homes “meme” with the right kind of supply: Micro-Suites. Critics of Micro-Suites claim it’s unethical to build condos small enough to violate basic guidelines for a chimpanzee pen, but this line of argument ignores a key fact: Micro-Suites will be left empty. Since actual people won’t live in Micro-Suites we don’t need to design them for human habitation. This elegant solution to the supply “crisis” also eliminates the pesky “meme” about vacant homes. Who could complain about a vacant home that no selfrespecting human would ever live in? Local hero/developer Jen Soreballs crafted the narrative best, “Everything is smaller these days: phones, stereos, TVs; books and music collections fit on laptops.” Since your weak mind probably can’t figure out how Moore’s Law applies to condos let me explain it in simpler terms: Do you like puppies? Puppies are micro-dogs. Boom, Micro-Suite debate over, empty home “crisis” solved. 停止思考大。你知道“住房危机”和“住房机会”是同一个词吗?当 人口普查数据显示温哥华有65000个空房屋时,一些危险人士称之 为“危机”。Peebus集团称之为“机会”,以适当的供应来解决空房 子“米姆”。 Micro-Suites的批评者声称,构建这样小的公寓是不道德的,他们 违反了黑猩猩围墙的基本指导原则,但这一论点忽视了一个关键事 实:微套房将空置。由于实际的人不会住在微型套房,我们不需要 为人类居住设计。这种优雅的解决方案,供应“危机”也消除了关于 空房子的讨厌的“模因”。谁能抱怨一个空闲的家,没有自尊的人会 住在? 本地英雄/开发商Jen Soreballs最好地制作了叙事,“这些天,一切 都变小了:手机,音响,电视;书籍和音乐收藏适合笔记本电脑“。由 于你的弱心可能无法弄清摩尔定律如何适用于公寓,让我以更简单 的话解释:你喜欢小狗吗?小狗是微型狗。 Boom,微套房争论,空 房子“危机”解决了。

Information You Need to Know PRICE

$188, 888

DEVELOPER

Peebus Group

AREA

Cedar Cottage

BEDROOMS

1

BATHS

0.5

SQ. FT.

35

YEAR BUILT

Completion 2018

MLS

P3N15033D

PEEBUS GROUP S U B S C R I B E A T P A T R E O N . C O M /A R C H I V E M A G A Z I N E

Realty Associates

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The Long Sad Death of a Once Great Snack By Douglas Haddow

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ear reader, I would like you to take a seat, place yourself into a comfortable position, adjust your posture, and draw in a deep breath before you feast upon this crucial text that I have laid out before your eyes. First things first—please finish whatever precious beverage you happen to be sipping on, some form of latté I assume, and throw its environment-murdering disposable cup into the trash. Now cleanse your palate with a tall glass of water and take a moment to collect your thoughts, as I’m going to ask you a serious question. Is there something missing from your life? Not in the material sense. I’m not concerned about your home décor and whether or not you could use another throw pillow. I’m speaking in a deeper, more spiritual sense. Is there a cavity in your soul that has been left to fester and is gradually giving way to an abscess? It’s okay. Take a moment to reflect. I’ll wait. You can’t quite pin it down, can you? You can feel a vague sense of longing but you can’t place its origin. Haunting, isn’t it? Well, I’ll tell you what you’ve been missing, it starts with the letter N and ends with an S. No, it’s not nerves or novels, though you could probably use more of both. It’s nachos. Yeah, nachos. Yeah, THOSE nachos, the ones you put in your mouth and taste all delicious and shit. Remember those? No, you forgot all about them, didn’t you? You preening, cocksure bastard. The siren’s call of fanciful farm-to-table tacos and ostentatious tapas has gone and lulled you into a barely-satiated fugue state and now you think you’re too good for a bit of Tex-Mex, don’t you? Well, sit your ass down and buckle the fuck up because I ain’t playing

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when it comes tortilla chips covered in cheese and adorned with any combination of various ingredients, such as black olives, jalapeños, or cilantro if u nasty. Oh, I’m sorry, are you offended? Have I shattered your false gastronomical consciousness, or have I pico-de-gallo’d your interest? Well, while you were off stuffing your face with cut-rate ebi mayo, kale protein shakes, or some such other bourgeois distraction, the state of nachos in this city has decayed into a fetid squalor. Now little more than an afterthought relegated to the appetizer section at cutrate eateries while poké bistro after poké bistro clogs up Vancouver’s available commercial space. Listen, scripture teaches to “let he is without sin should cast the first stone,” and lord knows I’ve sinned in my life. I’ve done awful, unspeakable things. I’ve committed cold, callous, barely human acts. I’ve put marinara sauce on stale Doritos, fried them up in canola oil and lied to my own whiskey-soaked brain that such an abomination was an acceptable thing to put in my gullet. And yes, I’ve used Velveeta in place of real cheese. Many, many, many times. Too many to count, too many to remember. I’m not proud of it, but then again I never claimed to be a good man, just a hungry one. Now wipe that smirk off your face and shut the fuck up. The matter at hand is not my own private dalliances, but the sad state of nachos in the city of Vancouver. Head a few miles south and the skies brighten up immediately. Hell, even Kelowna has a better nacho sitch than we do. The restaurants of this city serve stale chips laced with the barest of cheddar cheese garnishes and trying to pass


DOUGLAS HADDOW

them off as what was once a proud, tasty, and filling dish. To make matters worse, one of the city’s last decent nacho destinations, the Foundation, recently shuttered its doors, leaving us with fewer options than a pig in a plankhouse. A working man’s cuisine—nachos are the people’s entrée with a history that stretches back into the depths of time. Legend has it that the first proto-nacho was cooked up sometime in the 16th century by Montezuma’s personal chef. The Aztec maize slinger apparently discovered salsa by accidentally mixing tomatoes with chili peppers, and hot damn if that wasn’t a tasty treat to dip corn chips into while watching a jaguar knight sacrifice some poor sod to Tezcatlipoca. But it wasn’t until some 422 years later that things truly came together. The nachos that we know today can be traced back to one fateful night in Northern Mexico and a man named Ignacio Anaya. Known simply as “Nacho” to his amigos. It was a warm summer evening in Piedras Negras, a dusty ciudad of black stone and endless dusk in the state of Coahuila—just a stone’s throw across the Rio Grande from Maverick County, Texas. Whereas Piedras Negras was known for its stoic charm and Catholic creed, Maverick Country was a corrupt, god-forsaken place with more tornadoes than sense, and more sense than decent cooking. The queer souls who haunted this Texan backwater were mostly reclusive cattlemen and were known to eat one thing and one thing only: hamburger meat. As in: hamburger meat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And if you still had an appetite, hamburger meat for dessert. This was a grim age on the borderland floodplain—dry days where the water would run so sere that the only thing to quench one’s thirst would be more goddamned hamburger meat. But I digress. That fateful evening Ignacio Anaya stood pensively looking out the window of the half-empty Victory Club, the restaurant where he served as something in-between a maître d’, a chef, a bouncer, and waiter. A jack of all trades, master of but one. But what that one was, Anaya didn’t know yet. A flock of servicemen’s wives happened to stumble into the Victory Club, and as often is the case, necessity was the midwife of creation. Nothing else in Negras was open and the wives had a hunger something fearsome boiling in their hamburger-sodden guts. A man of indiscriminate faith, Anaya took pity of these desperate niminy-piminies, their stomachs visibly twisted into their simple, milkdrinking faces, the pangs tangible like a scalding sunburn on the back of a newborn babe. Ingredients were sparse and time was precious. A sweatsoaked Anaya looked around the kitchen and found not much but he did find a little bit of nothing. So, like all great

men, he cowboyed it as only a true-blooded Mexican maître d’ could. First a fried tostada. Then some yellow cheese, softly melted. Then topped with a slice of jalapeño with some salsa on the side. Ignacio—Nacho—the innovator, was ignorant of what he’d just invented. Modest in appearance, this was a moment that would change culinary history. But things of that nature and whatnot tend to get lost in the sands of time. The recipes get passed on and their heart gets passed over. Years later, Anaya would be forgotten outside the invisible borders of the Tex-Mex region, his legacy bastardized beyond belief by the coward Frank Liberto, the Tex-Italian cheese-sauce magnate responsible for foisting “stadium nachos” upon the world. Thieving Anaya’s recipe as his own but replacing yellow cheese with non-perishable cheese sauce, Liberto would go on to make millions while Anaya became little more than a footnote in the official history of nachos. You can call that original sin or you can call it capitalism, but whatever you call it, it’s a damn crying shame. Over the years and through the decades, cheese amounts would get winnowed down into something purely cosmetic, little more than a lace dress on a bleached bag of bones. To this day, through all the different incarnations of this dish, what is known to be true is that cheese is, indisputably, the tie that binds. Not just the layers that let the flavour breathe, but the common bond that makes a plate a whole. Without it, we’re left with a scattershot mess of over-baked tortilla. If you treat nachos like a numbers game, the customers will know it. They’ll see it in a heartbeat. And gradually, they’ll lose faith. And this is where we find ourselves today—a detente that’s put the whole supply and demand in a twisted mess. You can’t separate the act from the thing. You can’t bean-count a nacho plate, it just is how it is. And if it ain’t right it, you’ll know it. But again, I digress. The point that I’m getting at is the nacho situation in this town blows. And so here is my gift to the city: my 10 nacho commandments: 1. Extra cheese, please 2. Dip the chips 3. Girth is mirth 4. Nothing fancy, Nancy 5. Layers are slayer 6. Spicy is nicey 7. Keep the sides bona fide 8. Presentation is elation 9. Wet is a threat 10. Keep the meat discreet Take ’em, leave ’em, tattoo ’em on your lower back. IDGAF. But don’t you dare forget where you came from, or where you’re headed, or where you’re currently sitting, because that’s how you got here, and that’s where you’re going.

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Moody vibes Kea Mowat, 889

Top Rated Photo of Them All— Archive: Now, I’m a grown-ass man, but this beach looks like bullwhip city and you best believe that I still whip those things around my head and go pell-mell on anyone within a 20-foot radius of me. On a side note, it’s been years since anyone’s gone to the beach with me.

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Archive Vancouver Issue 06  

Our app finds the most popular photos in Vancouver and we publish them in a monthly magazine called Archive. Swipe up if you like a photo. S...

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