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Thank you everyone who made this year another special one: 2013 Covers

Dodds, Colin

Jewett, Mike

Doherty, Brenna

Jezowski, Shane

Dragona, Danielle

Jones, Stephanie

Draime, Doug

Kaczmarick, Kyle

Dy, Alon Calinao

Kantor, Loren

Edlebeck, Teri

Knight, Jamie Lee

Finch, Julie

Krahn, Sarah-Jean

Ford, Jason

Krill, Kelly

Fox, Bobby

Krszjzaniek, Eric

Freek, George

Kubai, Andy L.

Frisch, Zachary

Kurtz, Craig

Fuchs, Keith

Kvatek, Dani

Furmanek, Riley

Landerman, Alexander

Furo, Tyler

Lea, Krista

Gawricki, Sarah

Lee, John

Godell, Mike

Lee, Robin E.

Good, Howie

Lewellan, Paul

Brennan, Julia

Grabois, Michael Krochmalnik

Liggan, Janna

Brennan, Tim J.

Gretkus, Christopher

Brown, Ross

Grey, John

Buckles, Sissy

Gurney, Kenneth P.

Burke, Wayne F.

Habib, Eddy

Cano, Valentina

Haller, Tanya

Cardarelli, Jacob

Harrison, Dawnell

Carlisle, Thom Douglas

Haskell, Jan

Carver, Marc

Hedges, Dan

Cawein, Joseph James

Heindl, Bleu

Chaswal, Pradeep

Heindl, Freedom

Cluff, Mike

Hemmings, Kyle

Cook, Jonathan

Hodson, Jnana

Cram, Kelleigh

Hostovsky, Paul

Crate, Linda M.

James, Colin

Crew, Louie

Jensen, Ivan

Day, Holly

Jewell, Laine

2013 Submitters

Abraham, Kenneth Acuna, Hector Amezcua, Eloisa Arguinzoni, Samuel L. Arnott, Anthony Ashley, Michal Bader, Garth Bardookie, Roo Barr, Terry Beck, Gary Becker, John M. Beckvall, Robert Allen Beg, Mandal Bijoy Bellas, Georgia Big. D. Borg, Clyde L. Bosacker, Gerald

2013 Donors

Edlebeck, Teri Haskell, Jan The Talbot-Heindls’


Lisiuk, Josh LM Mahoney, Donal Manion, Lance Marra, Peter Marshall, Joshua Marvin, Louis Masterson, Timber mcfishenburger Medsker, Josh Mintah, Lois Moolla, Afzal Mudari, Jenny Mulrooney, Christopher Mwanaka, Tendai R. Niebeling, Terry Scott

Newman, Brooke

Stout, Brett

Nodopaka, Alex

Synclair, A.g.

O’Sullivan, Doireann

Talbot-Heindl, Chris

Payne, Janna

Talbot-Heindl, Dana

Peterson, Andrew

The Oh Christ!

Pino, Robert

Thomas, Gwil James


To Love Sophia

Polk, Douglas

Tomassini, Cinzia

Pollifrone, Max

Walton, Jeremiah

Provencio, Jess

Ward, Anthony

rajA, kaleeM

Wilde, Franz

Regan, Debby

Winston, Peabody

Reikki, Ron

Winter, Kate

Robillard, Kevin


Ronsmans, Alexis Hope

Wolfe, Burton H.

Roth, John


Roth, Sy

Zoltak, Ben

Salve, Anand

Zurawski, Jacob

Sapan, Josh Savage, W. Jack Schefchik, Kandra Schmidt, David Seewald, Debora Sen, Gautam Siebert, Michael Simons, Amy Sinha, Anupam Sittler, Julie Small, Cindy Smith, Robert Lavett somers, douglas Stafford, B R Staley, Matt Stewart Jameson

2013 Written Features

My Journey to SelfDiscover - The Road to Happiness, John Lee

Spring in the City, Kate Winter Hands Off Intellectual Property - A Reaction to Glee, Chris TalbotHeindl Odd Moments of Idle Musings, Sy Roth Jesus on Cable TV, Colin Dodds Sludge-Bot (The World Meets Dr. Wang), Louis Marvin & XY

Your Waitress or Waiter is Probably Smarter Than You, Ben Zoltak The Contagion, Franz Wilde

Pradeep Chaswal Remember Those Flames on the Western Horizon, Andy L. Kubai

Untitled, Jan Haskell

Every beautiful thing, Sarah Gawricki

10 Years After, Eric Krszjzaniek

Colors and Dark Shadows, Danielle Dragona

Water’s Slip Upside Down, Timber Masterson The Theme Song to the Sopranos, Eddy Habib The new princess wars, Sarah-Jean Krahn 500mg of Boxytocin, Ross Brown Speculative Disconnect: On Sodomy, Homoeroticism, and Modern Homosexuality, Tyler Furo Middle of Nowhere, Howie Good Zanzibar, kaleeM rajA Youthful Optimism (DIY Shows Are The Best Place to Get Laid), Jeremiah Walton He Writes Children’s Books, Jenny Mudarri Licking Wounds, Tendai R. Mwanaka A note entitled ‘The Good Truth’ (found with our divorce papers), Michael Ashley

Spider and Fly: Collaborations and Works from Louis and Roo, Roo Bardookie and Louis Marvin Darkness, Douglas Polk The Queen’s Jubilee, kaleeM rajA States of Being, Mike Jewett Pud the Dog, Lance Manion In the Form of a Question, Terry Barr Guy Fawkes was not a hero, Samuel L. Arguinzoni Pig, Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois A 12-Year Birth Control Method, PirateBagel auntie, Jess Provencio To Google Your Love, or, Not To Google Your Love, Louis Marvin & XY Crisp Paper, Dried Ink, Brett Stout

sincerely, a vexed sub girl, Linda M. Crate

Catatonia, Jonathan Cook

Untitled, Laine Jewell

Conscious Evolution, Garth Bader

Eastern Standard Time, Eloisa Amezcua

Skylark Lark, Colin Dodds

The Sound of Distant Ankle Bells, Afzal Moolla

Writer’s Block, Doug Draime

Sunday, Wayne Burke Girls and pictures,

potential and collarbone bruises (fire and rope), Robert Pino A Scream in the Streets, Peter Marra Foiled Again, Ivan Jenson 3

the bitchin’ kitsch content december 2013

Self Portrait - Brooke Newman Year in Review


Living/Dead - Anthony Ward


Ghosts of the Past - Mike Godell


In the Middle of Babel - Hector Acuna


A Scream in the Streets - Peter Marra



Kingdom of ice - John Roth

Parthing - Garth Bader


The Rorschach - Julie Finch


Conscious Evolution - Garth Bader


slave history professor - Jess Provencio



Acid - Anupam Sinha

Something Very Queer - Mandal Bijoy Beg sinking - Joseph James Cawein


15 15 15


Twenty Miles to Work - Tim J. Brennan

Scene of Your Murder - Valentina Cano


Filigree Flashes - Mike Cluff



Foiled Again - Ivan Jenson

The Art Works - John Grey


Inner Freak Show - Krista Lea


Autumn grows cold - Dawnell Harrison


Don’t Wake Up - Janna Liggan


Bust a move, big daddy - Sissy Buckles


beat happening #7 or 8 - Kyle Hemmings


Any Thoughts? - Julie Brennan


Amethyst and Quartz Rock Wrap - Dani Kvatek Inked Expression - Kelly Krill


Dear Diary - Louis Marvin and XY


College Boys - Wayne Burke


The Zookeeper - Brenna Doherty


Untitled - Stephanie Jones


Epic Wrap - Wlkn_Fire


Prisoner - Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois Potential and collarbone bruises (fire and rope) - Robert Pino The Caress of Chaos and Physics - Brett Stout

on the front cover: Self Portrait

Brooke Newman Oil on canvas

on the inside back cover:

Cubo Futurism, figurative cubism (138) the tango Alex Nodopaka Graphic arts

the bitchin’ kitsch video and music issue: Check out this month’s issue of video and music at




Oh Well. - Mike Godell

Kelly Krill - pg. 21

Cosmos - Kenneth P. Gurney

About The B’K and Resources

Catatonia - Jonathan Cook

Mike Godell - pg. 9



Chris Critiques - Chris TalbotHeindl

Light Projection - Wlkn_Fire and Dana Talbot-Heindl Short Fuse - Michael Gillan Maxwell

17 18-20


23-28 28 29

Untitled - Stephanie Jones


Donors and Index


Cubo Futurism, figurative cubism (138), the tango - Alex Nodopaka


hector acuna, resources.

In the Middle of Babel Hector Acuna Oil on canvas

about b’k:

The Bitchin’ Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open creativity. If you have something you want to share, please email it to All submissions are due on the 26th for the following month’s issue. Please review the submission guidelines on our Submissions page ( bitchin_kitsch/submissions ) before submitting your work.

community copies:

Stevens Point readers, sit down and read The Bitchin’ Kitsch at our community locations: zest, epic studios tattooing and piercing, the coffee studio, tech lounge, and noel fine arts center.


The Bitchin’ Kitsch is offering crazy low rates. Order ads on our Shop The B’K page (www.talbot-heindl. com/support_us/shop).

donation and acquisition:

Printing costs can be a bitch, which is why we continuously look for

donations. Any amount helps and is appreciated. We also sell back copies of The B’K. To do either, visit our Shop The B’K page (www. shop_thebk).


On top of being the best publication ever created by human hands, The B’K would also like to present other opportunities that may be helpful to you as creators. If you have suggestions that could improve our list, please let us know. Resources we are privy to can be found at our Resources page (www.talbot-heindl. com/bitchin_kitsch/resources).


jonathan cook. Catatonia

By: Jonathan Cook After aimlessly altering my anxious anonymity, all I amount to is an exhausted, annoying, animalistic aftermath of some amphetamine, angelic apprehension, because Bound between the bottles and bowls and bad, broken, busted pills, I behold that I am battered, beaten, and bored, with my Careless, continuous existence, copping catatonic caresses, only creating some crooked creature, cheating caring, careful Christ-like Damsels, who distress at my distaste, but days and dreams, disassociating and dislocating their demented dissonance, have deemed my distance some damning, daring date that Eradicate and erase my erring efforts at escaping every existentialist ency, that erodes my evening escapes, From my fortress, favoring, instead, five foot forests, that fumble in my free, fucked up fantasy, foaming from here to there, forcing frequent fits of flowing features, that flee from my face. Oh, these forty ounce fair, fortitude finders fortunately free me from my flight, Grabbing some girl, going away from growing danger, getting, instead, a gross, grating, greasy, easy gateway to a glowing moment of some god-given guilty pleasure, Having enough hateful, hurtful heaving, having hacked down hordes of happy, honest, honorable heretics, who have no hasty response, but to head, hide, and hypothesize of their hurtful, however nonexistent, faults, haunted by how I hurt and hated them. Including while isolating, issuing inherently impossible impasses, with an ill invested life, or one inheriting important ideas, with the Jaded, joking jackass that got jacked up on jumping pills, jeered and felt judiciously judged by the Keenly, knotted knowledge that could kick and kill the kindest kids and kings, that this kiss and caress that these Less than lovely ladies lay upon me like a lance of light 6

laminating lavish lounges late at night, drowning me in a lake of lust, loss, and lack, a litmus test on the likelihood that my life May be a monotonous, makeshift, mourning mound of mornings of smeared makeup and most of the nights’ medicines making a mirror into the midst of my meaningless mess made the mediocre, manic Monday before. Not that the naming of the night is necessarily a necessary thing. Those nameless nightmares of no numerical pattern, that only share nonsense needs and feelings of nostalgic nothingness, mixed in a naked nature of non-inhibition and far from non-alcoholic niches, feeling the Openness these opiates and oscillating occurrences reveal, obscuring obstinate reality onto ontological oppositional occidental dreamscapes, opting for overdose, Permuting planes of painful memories of paternal pressure and patriarchy to impossible parables of pungent fumes and their perceptional, exceptional power over appreciation of plunging though our purview of some Platonic planet, while purchasing a passing point in which people are pleasant, and perhaps I am too. Pleasing, pleasurable pictures that pull the world away, placating pain for a parable of Quite, quaint times, that are quintessential in quitting a quite quiet world that is quantitatively quick, but qualitatively quaking to Realizations of what real life is, remaking reality into a religious, remorseful resurrection of repetitive resistance towards a righteous world, with righteous relatives, and righteous relations with people that don’t realize my wrong, rancid response to reality and my Stereotypical sedative of sex and stimulants and seventy-two hour situations of serotonin sacrifices in supplemental samplings of pseudoephedrine, speed, and San Francisco’s finest, some strung out stage of some stringent, slow, sure suicide, sort of Taming death, taming that timid, tattered, tequila infused time of life, with the tormenting tales, time and time again, of tasteless life, turned into a terrible depression towards towering terrors of tangential times, with no tweaks of tolerance, just time repeating time

jonathan cook (con’t), garth bader repeating time, together taking taste and tailoring the Universal, unilateral uniqueness of my utopian visions, making them no longer uncommon, undivided or undetermined, but ubiquitous and full of euphemisms and unusually unfounded solutions, but not Validating a value in my very existence, but vacuuming every virtue that evacuates the Valium induced sleep, vexing all the very values I believed and that vied for my Vicodin wrought Wishes and weighed in on my way to my weird walks, waiting for weird people with weird drugs and weird situations. That waited and weakened woeful realizations of the world, those X-rays of reality, axing the Xenon xylophone skeleton signs of xenophobia, xenocentric America, and You yearn and yank your youth from years in the future, to use youthfully, now yelling. Yet, I yawn and yet I slip into another catatonia, euthanizing my years into another detached, already dead, drug induced, hazed Zen, an endless zoology of Xanax, zeros, Zodiacs and broken letters in the whole Campbell’s Alphabet Soup™ of time.

Conscious Evolution By: Garth Bader

Good that we have created games to keep our fight challenged, without having to harm ourselves, for what would we be able to become without fight? Rats deprived of physical and social play become less intelligent at problem solving; compare this with our society that causes us to avoid and alienate each other, living in boxes and brainwashed into a slave machine that supports the absurdly indulgent of power through an invention of money, information and law. Good and evil don’t actually exist, only consciousness in a transition of birth from the animal ego, with arbitrary intelligence. Such an honorable daydream of humanity is used to distract us from an overpopulation that flows with an addiction to comfort, taken advantage by disqualifying

Parthing Garth Bader Graphite on paper

a circulatory wisdom. Free education is not only about the opportunity for people to earn their power through understanding, but so truth can be uncensored, that reality can prevail. Only shedding light can ever solve a problem, as truth inverses evil. They think sacrifice gives power, that to be rich you must have the poor, but it’s a tyrannical fantasy to justify slavery, an apotheosis of ego, the vindictive monster of vanity. Inventions of terrorism and the illusion that strangers want to hurt you is keeping this machine well oiled; we are gears, turning against each other, as our hope is being worn like a mask. What army could possibly be stronger than an intelligent, healthy and loving people? Art is better when it’s not trying to be something because then it can make the best of itself.


mandal bijoy beg, joseph james cawein, john grey, valentino cano. Something Very Queer

The Art Works

Let us, all the human beings on earth, Release all the wild dumb beasts and birds From all the zoos made of iron bars, And then, being totally naked, Thereinside assemble and lock the doors.

The painting above the fireplace is of a young girl, innocent but constantly exposed to flame and adults only television programming.

By: Mandal Bijoy Beg

Let us dance, tread to and fro, Chase and fight with one another In our own human way; Let us peep and look outside Standing and holding the iron bars; Let us titillate and copulate our spouses, Let us gesticulate in our own way. Come with me, ho, do as I say, And you would see something very queer: You would see the roaming beasts come Closer to the bars of those abodes of ours, Start clapping, shouting, whistling And laughing hilariously and uproariously And the skies resound with their voice!


By: John Grey

In the dining room, a water-colored horse watches us eat…horse for all it knows. The kitchen is kitty-cornered by two Victorian ladies whom, I’m sure, would have had servants to do such menial tasks as cooking, cleaning. The bedroom prefers landscapes, head on mountain, body slipped under clouds, back soothed by soft fields, sleeping outdoors even when we’re in. In the bathroom, just the mirror hangs. Getting clean and good-looking, we’ve no one to blame but ourselves.

By: Joseph James Cawein when i was 19 i found myself lost in the north dakota badlands up to my knees in quicksand slowly sinking with each insubstantial breath. ‘they will not find me’ i thought ‘my mother will not even know what happened’ i overcame the Terror and lunged for a root on the bank and muscled my self out. i sat by the river and laughed and laughed. It occurs to me now that i have never stopped laughing but i have never quite stopped sinking either.


Scene of Your Murder By: Valentina Cano

I imagine your eyes bleaching in the sun. Upturned, they stare at where I stood, now just catching bird’s flights in their pupils. While the rest of you darkens with water, ripening into a bloated fruit, your eyes dry out. They dull and crack, a pair of parched seashells.

mike godell.

Oh Well. Mike Godell Epoxy resin, wood, copper wire 9

janna liggan, sissy buckles. Don’t Wake Up

By: Janna Liggan

She woke up dripping syrup from a dream of waltzing backwards in the grass. breath touched her hair, sending minnows down her sinews, schools swim down then climb up her veins, pulling gently on her organs to make it to her face where they dance in wet whitetails flap and scales flash in her alligator eyes. She woke up crying seaweed from a dream of a mummy wrapped in a kitchen cabinet. a muted voice pulled open her ear, poured ice past her brain, sloshing down her neck, droplets freezing through the esophagus and cracking at her lungs, the frozen splinters spread down her arms into her coiled serpent fingers. She woke up laughing bumblebees from a dream of plum pudding in a treehouse. fuzz forces through her belly button and buzz up her toes, spinning and jumping over her skin, through knees and over hips, humming to meet at her treefrog tummy. She woke up shaking tumbleweeds from a dream of bleeding beach houses. wind trickles over her arm hairs seashells creep down her spine and sponges drink through her nostrils to meet below her tongue, and press against her teeth until sand spurts from her mollusk mouth.

Bust a move, big daddy by Sissy Buckles

Of course I hoped you’d find it, opened up briefly just for you and to say a few things I guess, and then heck I didn’t want other people reading it, not like I advertise and they were so then I felt like an idiot and existential panic set in I needed my private life back, and just silly girl stuff, but what it comes down to is really, I didn’t know you were reading my old blog how could I? So better late than never I’ll ask you now to meet me at Pete’s Place? Some late Saturday afternoon share a shivery pitcher of tap brew or Stella Artois’ sheer blonde in a bottle for me oh I bet you’re a bourbon man shoot we could have fun drinking mineral water on ice with lemon and a cig later on when it starts to get dark in the parking lot out back by the alley I’ll keep watch while you surreptitiously scratch our secret initials buried in a heart on the graffiti brick wall juke box still just a quarter sway close to slow old songs we really could just dance away our cares I’ll even let you take me clear around the world hopping diamonds on the rail c’mon daddy you could have the whole enchilada at Pete’s do you even know cuánto te necesito and hey whaddaya say?


mitchell krochmalnik grabois, robert pino, brett stout. Prisoner

The Caress of Chaos and Physics

I was imprisoned by Facebook and was not able to leave to explore other sites

the sun sometimes rides the black horse’s deception,

By: Mitchell Krochmalnik Grabois

I was reduced to the soft porn produced by romance writers and exhibitionists but Big Brother clamped down on them put a prophylactic on their freedom of speech As my sex avenues were increasingly closed down by the ever vigilant monitors I turned from sex to violence finally escaped from Facebook found gratification everywhere

By: Brett Stout

a bee stings my adolescent dying coffee grit between rivers of hearsay and teeth a phone calls contagion fondle a plastic cup the sugar in the jar suffers the muscles naked restlessness equitable skills we possess only one exist and, crumple the stained paper at dawn.

potential and collarbone bruises (fire and rope) (anastasia – act 3)

By: Robert Pino

you are not inside yourself anymore you’re somewhere else, pushed out, floating and incorporeal. i like to think that at the moment you exited your body (and i do remember the exact moment) that you entered mine or at least changed it (we are) where our energies continue to dance and intermingle at the edge of things


kenneth p. gurney, anthony ward, mike godell. Cosmos


Neon flashed the left side of my face. An indifferent game played itself out on the usually silent television. I sat very still on a stool in the midst of the raging fans. I used my elbows to maintain my space, my boundaries, and committed a foul, an offense that garnered dirty looks. It depressed me to view a large amount of female anatomy in the knowledge that none of it cared a hoot about spotted owls or the carbon foot print of electricity. Some team won the game and half of the attending people cheered and the other half groaned and all of them paid the bartenders to practice their profession.

Living in a comatose world, Numb to the environment — Neither alive nor dead. Walking streets of deserted cities, All vegetation bleached with concrete As barren as the moon, Where not a soul stirs, Only the decomposition into silence That remains deafening to those motivated by consumption, Their vacant stares rising to windows, Wailing with un-satiated hunger, Eyes transfixed directly in front, Not noticing one another, Stimulated only by raw flesh, Their rotten complexions, Nothing more than animation of external expression In pivotal modes of putrefaction. Mechanised minds emotionally engineered Until no more than automotive responses, Unaware of why they’re doing what they do — Compelled to do so all the same.

By: Kenneth P. Gurney

Outside, the cloud cover was too thick to see any constellations, especially the few I could name.

Ghosts of the Past Mike Godell Acrylic and ink on board 12

By: Anthony Ward

peter marra, john roth. A Scream In The Streets

By: Peter Marra they always know. we were shut up for days tell me truly tell me truly in black and white

a sepia valentine was revealed under her skin she promised redemption but her stepchildren promised rage the tiny people are waiting descending she always hears it in the midnight hour a swerve a tingle a stray dog howl as she cums raspy words from a sour night just passed. long legs unbound. i had a revived interest in melancholy moments they were perched on my back again some biting biting yet again she checks her bouffant and her straight razor time after time then leaves me. leaves me down. evasion versatility escape from so many things silhouette of yesterday was atomized a dark-eyed woman answered. “But. I. was just guilty of loving it.” A room existed that consisted of flesh smells hanging heavy her hand had plunged and pressed. each other both times. Her face

disjointed. the thin flesh crawled translucently across the floor a guest at the party of its own universe, a carpet of begging. slender, to all the others. then her eyes closed so gauzily covered, that is this art arouses sorrow in her and passion dies. she had technique, the girl was quickly comforted, hugging the nucleus of her gun pointed straight at him half crying at the insides of her she parted her hair checking her bouffant and her straight razor in the window’s reflection as the utter noises she heard with her hands when flogging through the now-empty bar dug in deep at dead noon in London the embryos always vibrate. the clocks breathe bullet for the honeymoon/can’t cool down wouldn’t it be lovely?

Kingdom of ice By: John Roth

Rotting glacier shelf, the sunlight invades you. It splits open your blue marbled veins and drowns your crusty trenches. It pokes pinholes through your skin and chips away at your frozen innards, like a birds yellowed egg tooth, drawing the faint curvature of a glass spine bent against purled turquoise sails. You were once an arctic foothold, an immovable cliff line. But now, you’re crumbling away in shiftless snow chunks. The luster of your ice-carved throne reduced to gray sea slush.


julie finch. The Rorschach By: Julie Finch

For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying. Rainer Maria Rilke Moses parting the Red Sea A man slinking away from a woman Guilty of some unspeakable horror Woman reposing on a sofa Woman, all of her, everywhere — A Jackson Pollock peek-a-boo bursting From the sun From the shades of vitriol From a slow sucking beetle hard wired to the brain Its focus stuttering and vacant


An early flower arcing upright to the sun Three girls offering roses to the Virgin de Guadelupe. All in all, the psychotherapist had said, Something to the effect of Not Too Bad Likening the results to the x-ray of a leg Nothing was broken Apparently Maybe just a sprain. “A sprain?” you’d asked “A pronounced sprain,” he’d been careful to add. He’d lit a cigarette then You had asked him for a smoke; He seemed annoyed You failed him in the Generosity Test. Leaving his office, walking out into the brilliant Austin Sun, you thought, What was his trade, anyway? Trafficking in dense echoes and a desire So encompassing it branded you a gimp All of 21, you knew yourself to be more than that You knew beauty when you saw it And you had seen it plain.

jess provencio, anupam sinha, ivan jenson, tim j. brennan. slave history professor

Foiled Again

Jefferson was the third president of the United States through DNA testing it has been proven he fathered children with his slave Sally Hemmings starched shirt still crisp on his fourth trip of the day he gives morning history lessons on the 206 line his badge has only four numbers a testament to how long he’s been driving Jefferson Boulevard

just pretend to listen to the sound of sound advice and nod affirmatively when being scolded by the scalding heat of another person’s hot air spoken with either the ether like pitch of a helium inhaler or the kettle drum thump of a grump then when they are done spewing their Linda Blair pea soup opinion excuse yourself wash that thought right out of your hair and keep on making the best mistakes this world has ever known

By: Jess Provencio

By: Ivan Jenson

Adams was the second president of the United States his son John Quincy Adams was the sixth president neither father nor son owned slaves he gives directions in both Spanish and English thanking every rider on his bus getting out of his seat to help an elderly woman as she struggles to manage her bags Adams Boulevard Washington was the first president of the United States he owned 18 slaves at Mount Vernon his wife Martha brought an additional 200 when someone complains he is too cheerful he jokes about forgetting his medication this morning his eyes hidden behind sun glasses impenetrable no one can tell if he is having the last laugh Washington Boulevard

Twenty Miles to Work By: Tim J. Brennan


By: Anupam Sinha Could I ever measure, the void across her face? If so, what scales or units would suffice? Would the shudder of recognition be adequate? Or will the incessant jibes of mirror be enough? What about the depth of the scar? Was it deep enough to be the void in her identity?

How about the confusion of expressions? Was that smoke, from the fires burning in the void, emanating from her eyes? Or was it the dim light of a fading smile? How much love could stitch that chasm, or unstitch that moment when liquid hate had gnawed her sinews of humanity, to leave a void, at the centre of her being?

November leaves its barren trees; rows of cut corn leaves only stubble and the pecking of crows; it is on these excursions, you see parts of a world never seen before You so want to acknowledge everything, but have learned to truly understand, you must begin with a single breath


mike cluff, krista lea, dawnell harrison. Filigree Flashes By: Mike Cluff

Annabelle absconded to a playdoh palm tree while Kurt found a new pipeline in the shadow of a zinc pig trough filled with Filbert’s kneepads. Greg put on the fake suit and play the Byzantine banker to a flashed-out crowd during Cheryl’s bad Caligula routine in sempahoric rhetoric. It all stopped after Jason ate out of Melinda’s shoehorn a topper of a trick pony with only two and two-thirds legs to hoist itself out of Hortene’s bisque and beastro and embalmery.

Inner Freak Show By: Krista Lea

Autumn grows cold By: Dawnell Harrison

Autumn grow cold, Water-hooded mother. Mornings diffuse Into somnolence. 16

The sun fires too late As the moor laments. Frost thickens on the grass. The gift of plenitude Has no house here.

my inner face is like the bearded lady —a Monet in motion. prickled cheekbones mask lip-stained pucker, but flower bubblegum sighs. a friend to all blue men, but closer to those who eat fire and words. an oddity in nature nurtures a well of empathy for the elephant in the glass house.

kyle hemmings. beat happening #7 or 8 By: Kyle Hemmings

i met this surfer babe who called herself wanda O. we were digging each other’s charms, trying to cut through each other’s chains & links while the emos were losing a game of volley ball to some sand dogs who earlier couldn’t skateboard for shit. over the horizon the sun ws giving head to a sleeping sea. wanda asked if i ws a preppy because i had that look. shit, no, i sd. i am an ex-porn star. you’ve hrd of mr. grease? wanda looked like she ws thinking hard. then she sd oh yeah, my younger sister saw him in a film about this dude who ws into symbolist poetry and horses. yeah, i sd that ws the incredible horseback wilson. it ws one of my best performances. i cd tell by the way wanda ws blushing & the way her eyes never met mine that something serious ws on her mind. wanda, i sd, you look like you wanna say something. tell me i’m not like intuitive. she sd. well, oh, it’s not something to discuss here now at this moment, we just met & ... i noticed wanda’s eyes kept veering down twrds my Pee-Ness. wanda, i sd like we’re adults. two of them. yr probably wondering about the size of my you-know. & there’s probably other things you want to know about my youknow like where it’s been & how long is it. isn’t that what you wanted know, wanda? well, she sd, looking slightly under the wave. wanda, i sd we’re not emos and we’re not preppy flunkies who live for flapjacks. & i wish you wd stop calling this part of me the part that makes me a man & the most outrageous porn star on the west coast, i wish you wd. stop calling this a you-know. i wish you would call it a pee-ness & not a you-know because you & i have ridden the whale’s humpback more than a few times, isn’t that right, wanda?

ok, wanda, let me tell you about me, meaning it, meaning my pee-ness. 1) my pee-ness has been through many orifices, backlots, keyholes, naive dribbling mouths, has brought down kings & queens, has wrecked havoc in hollywood circles & when it fails a whole city of women cry and chant oh fuck no, say it isn’t true. 2) my pee-ness once worked undercover within a terroist elf organization called p.e.n.i.s. e.n.v.y. my peeness destroyed the heart & soul of p.e. my pee-ness worked i.n.c.o.g.n.i.t.o. 3) there are many neurotic babes who would like to keep my pee-ness in a glass jar beside them in bed at night. these neurotic babes are prone to freudian slips especially in their sleep. becauze of their father issues they are prone to ruin men with sterling reputations. 4. wanda would you like to do it with me on the beach here tonight? wanda thought hard about this for a while. maybe she thought about many things, like how the emos could lose a stupid game of volley ball to these puky sand dogs who cldn’t skateboard for a free jar of fava beans. i mean their backflips just sucked wind. it ws getting dark on the beach & wanda’s lips were looking really poetic and full. finally, she sd no not tonight, she left her artificial vagina at home. i studied this situation carefully. i sd. wanda where is yr real vagina? she sd. it eloped with some mexican drug runner named enrico. i sd you must get lonely at night. she smiled delicately and sd yeah, but at least one part of her always stays happy.

yes, she sd with the sullen lips of a fallen queen. 17

julia brennan. Any Thoughts?

By: Julia Brennan

“Any other thoughts on this before we move one?” one of my English professors asked us one day in class. We were reading Dracula, for the second or third time for some of us, but this time was different because I was beginning to understand the various ways that one can read a book. Instead of actual people, some characters are just representations of ideas. Popular culture is, once again, infatuated with vampires and the relationship and interactions that humans share with them.1 However, this is not a phenomenon unique to the twenty-first century.2 Bram Stoker’s Dracula is a classic but while the story itself is a horror, many aspects provide unexpected comic relief.3 The first line that struck me was this: “The thought that has been buzzing about my brain lately is complete, and the theory proved. My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. I shall have to invent a new classification for him…”4 I’ve read Bram Stoker’s Dracula a few times

and I was in class a few months ago when I really paid attention to this line for the first time; I thought it was hilarious. But “homicidal maniacs” is not something one typically laughs at in the middle of class, and seeing as no one else in my class seemed to find it funny, I kept my thoughts to myself. It raises the question of what other kinds of “homicidal maniacs” there are that one would stand out above the rest. Of course we, as the reader, know that Renfield, the “homicidal maniac,” was one of Dracula’s lackeys and therefore has vampire characteristics so we know we should expect “peculiar” behavior and Dr. Seward should not. And if you were seeking out the comedic characteristics of Dracula, this line would definitely make the cut.5 I had to share my thoughts on this line with someone and having already deemed it ill-fitting for class6 I had to wait until I talked to my dad that night, knowing he would share, or at least appreciate, my thoughts on this matter.7 Dracula isn’t supposed to be funny. It’s supposed to

Twilight is doing terrible things for the representation of women and the role they ought to play in society, by the way. When I read Stephanie Meyer’s books, Mom told me to read a story about “real vampires” and handed me an Anne Rice book from her Vampire Chronicles. When all else fails, explore the exploits of the undead I suppose. 3 Of course, this same idea can be applied in “real life” and frequently is in my house. Teenage brothers yield many minimeltdowns over the smallest things. My youngest brother Noah once told me he “wished a storm cloud would follow me around all day and rain all over me” because he upset and by that point all I could do was laugh. It wasn’t that his emotions were invalid or any less distressing (to him at least) but the cause for his distress was amusing to those of us looking at it from an outside perspective. 4 In addition the reasons about to be explained, there is the idea that this man can simply “invent a new classification” for this one patient. I understand that someone has to do the classifications but I just find the way this man goes about it rather carefree, as if he can say “here’s a new classification” and be done with it. 5 My brother Tommy and I run into this problem of accidentally amusing situations at Mass every week. The Sign of Peace, which is supposed to be peaceful has a tendency to turn into a contact sport of who can shake the other’s hand harder. Rather recently, Mom leaned over and told us that Peace didn’t have to be “combat” and Tommy pretended to punch me and whispered “and peace be with you!” as we both tried to stop laughing. Now, my brothers and I have always been like that during Mass when the situation permits. Praying is off-limits, Communion is off-limits, but the Sign of Peace, when we’re supposed to act civilized and refined, is fair game and we take less care to hide from Mom. Peace itself isn’t funny but our interpretation of it is. 6 It’s not so much that me finding this line funny would be inappropriate but more not knowing how people would react to hearing me say this. Last Friday as we were lockdowned in our house and the Black Hawks were flying over head, he looked at me and said “these helicopters have been following me around all day” and I finished the Goodfellas narration, knowing that was exactly what he was waiting for. 7 A few summers ago Dad and I drove to Florida to bring my brother Jimmy’s his car. It was right after a water crisis brought on by a water main break. Tap water was possibly contaminated and Watertown and the surrounding communities having to buy bottled water for about a week because they couldn’t guarantee that tap water was clean. Dad and I stopped a Georgia Denny’s and the waitress asked if we wanted lime in our water we both said we were from Massachusetts and were just happy to have water. 1 2


julia brennan (con’t). be a horror story and I can’t help but think that all the characters are rather amusing because everyone is so caught up with answering all sorts of questions that they choose to overlook everything that would give them an answer. And poor Lucy falls victim to their confusion as Dr. Seward says:

Ever seen Goodfellas? If not, just know that Spider is a kid10 killed by Tommy because Spider runs his mouth. Tommy is the guy that everyone knows is crazy and should be dealt with as such. Tommy shoots Spider in the foot and later kills because he doesn’t get Tommy his drink fast enough and tells him to “fuck himself.”11

“Just over the external jugular vein there were two punctures, not large, but not wholesome-looking. There was no sign of disease, but the edges were white and worn-looking, as if by some trituration. It at once occurred to me that this wound, or whatever it was, might be the means of that manifest of blood; but I abandoned the idea as soon as formed, for such a thing could not be.”

It’s the same thing with these guys in Dracula. If they stopped to think for a minute then they would have been able to tell that there was something wrong with the marks on Lucy’s neck and then decided how best to move forward.

By the time of Lucy dies, blame for her death can be given to the various doctors and men working to cure her. In their quest for answers, the above quote illustrates how the men of the story were working so hard to find answers that they overlook the cause of Lucy’s death. When he says “I abandoned the idea as soon as formed, for such a thing could not be,” Dr. Seward actually tells us that he is choosing to ignore peculiar details of Lucy’s situation.8 It’s just as much their fault as it is the one that killed her because they overlooked all the answers to begin with.9

The point being argued here is not that Dracula is alone with characters who share this pattern of behavior. The mention of Goodfellas purposes to show that and to also allude to a couple of larger ideas. The first of which being that blame does not always fully lie where we originally believe it does. Spider’s death is supposed to show how one person can be innocent in some sense and still bear some responsibility for the larger situation. 12 I don’t think it’s solely my cynical personality that makes me amused by these men.13 Maybe it’s the way we’re taught to look at the larger picture before we assign blame to a specific character over another and upon further investigation I’ve found Dr. Seward and Spider to be foolish, confused men.

I use “peculiar” here because it is used earlier and its use reinforces the dismissive attitude of these men. Also, whenever Dad and I mock a TV show or a movie, we always do so using the same terminology as the characters. It highlights the absurdity of whatever it is we’re talking about. 9 If you wanted to see a similarly comical moment, Dad and I would suggest Dances with Wolves when Kevin Costner is crawling around on the ground, making antlers with his hands, say “tatonka” to portray buffalo. It’s supposed to be touching and illustrate the cultural and linguistic barriers and yet he just looks ridiculous. Or perhaps Field of Dreams when Kevin Costner tries to say how life abused his father and how he never knew him as a young man when he was still energetic and hopeful…maybe those are bad examples; I think the problem here is Kevin Costner and his inability to successfully deliver a line. 10 Kid in the metaphorical sense…he’s an adult but younger than everyone else. 11 Spider, just pour the damn drink and live a little longer. For the record, Goodfellas is my favorite movie and I still can’t get through this scene without grimacing at Spider’s stupidity. My brother Jimmy feels the same way. 12 Making dinner or doing dishes is never a solitary action in my house. There is almost always at least a second person in the kitchen providing help, conversation, comic relief, etc. When one of us tells another to “put the macaroni down” and the other drops it, the blame lies with the one who gave the order because the other was just doing as they were told. The mess of sauce and pasta on the floor and too much water in the sink is not the dropper’s fault because they were only “doing as they were told.” 13 Although on more than one occasion I have been known to laugh during inappropriate times. Jimmy and I were about seven and nine during a particularly long drive down to Maryland and we insisted on listening to the Power Ranger cassette in the car. After the ninth time, Dad said no more and to find something else to listen to. Of course, I put the same cassette back in and Dad pulled it out so fast I’m still surprised it didn’t end up on the New Jersey Turnpike. Instead of apologizing for our deliberate disobedience, I had to refrain from looking back at Jimmy so as not to laugh. 8


julia brennan (con’t), dani kvatek. What leads to the distress of these men is the idea that one has to be either good or bad. Right or wrong. Extremities. They don’t work for this very reason.14 Dr. Seward is correct in thinking something is peculiar about his “homicidal maniac” but Renfield still ought to be treated the same as the rest of the Doctor’s “homicidal maniacs” rather than to be observed under different circumstances than the others.15 The idea of finding comedy in unexpected places and blame being shared more than a stagnant phenomenon is portrayed in Bram Stoker’s Dracula and many other books, movies and cultural infatuations. However, if they function to fulfill one purpose, it should be to stand as representations of higher themes.16

Amethyst and Quartz Rock Wrap Dani Kvatek Rock Wrap


14 For another illustration of why extremities cannot work in society, take a look at gun control and the way hunters would be impacted if guns were outlawed. Hunters aren’t the individuals to blame for the problems we see with weaponry today and the one of the complexities of this debate is how do reach an agreement between everybody being allowed to own a gun and nobody being allowed to own a gun. 15 Once again, Spider has every right to talk back to Tommy but that doesn’t mean he ought to and it also doesn’t mean that he shares no blame in his demise. 16 Similar to the way dialogue is the best illustration of a relationship between two people, the best way to illustrate an abstract idea is to use people, fictional or not, and show the reader how the characters deal with it. So for characters and events that cannot be understood by “telling” the audience, “showing” is best and even better when humor can be found in unexpected places.

kelly krill, louis marvin and xy, wayne burke. College Boys By: Wayne Burke

Inked Expressiion Kelly Krill Ink on paper

Dear Diary

By: Louis Marvin and XY I don’t know what it was about this guy, but I was excited and just wanted to reach out and kiss him, regardless of standing in front of 6-7 other Ph.D’s. I didn’t care. I just wanted to melt with this guy. Jack Veenum. I think I am in love. As far as professionalism goes, fuck it. I want to jump this guy. I wonder what he thinks? I am so God damned wrapped up in work, I don’t really even have a girlfriend to talk to about this.

I was at Ottawa University in Kansas and went to a Hardie’s Burger with Ron who wanted to be a writer and Steve, who was going to play center field for the Kansas City Royals and Big Phil, from Illinois, who had a pimpled face like mine and Phil got punched splat! by a high school hot-shot in the parking lot and Phil grabbed the punk by the punk’s shirt collar and screamed stop it! but the punk kept punching splat! splat! splat! and blood ran down onto Phil’s shirt and I yelled hit him! hit him Phil! and Phil screamed stop it I said! and shook the punk like a dog shaking a rat as light from Hardie’s lit Phil and the punk in silhouette and Ron and Steve sat in the car and the punk punched splat! splat! and Phil screamed stop it! you son-of-a-bitch! you bastard! and the blood streamed and the punk kept punching until, tired-out, he finally quit and Phil got into the car and bawled and Steve said “why didn’t you hit him?” and Phil, a bloody mess said “I don’t know.”


brenna doherty, stephanie jones. The Zookeeper

By: Brenna Doherty

If I could write lines about your past debts and old regrets Iʼd have written myself dry. Itʼs a viewing zoo in here. Except the animals pay to be caged and the viewing is free. Fauna comes here to escape Floraʼs flowering fate. Humorous, considering where heʼs placed. People stare and ponder, why do you continue to pet the wild animals? They say Iʼm worse than those boars. But their snouts sniff ʻem out and charge those unwilling to pay. Theyʼre just bird watching, There was never ever touching. You only observed from afar. Itʼs easy to mistake a wild habitat as your cage. I am just the zookeeper.


Untitled Stephanie Jones Mixed media sculpture

chris talbot-heindl, wlkn _ fire, dani kvatek. Chris Critiques: Cisgendered Crybabies By: Chris Talbot-Heindl November 14, 2013

In August, Governor Jerry Brown signed California’s Assembly Bill 1266 for Transgender Student Rights. This bill, now law, allows transgender youth to use whatever bathroom and participate on whichever sports team they believe matches their gender identity (among other provisions).

fate will be voted on by the general public in the 2014 midterm elections. But Owen’s problem with the law isn’t about privacy concerns. It is about his deep-seated bigotry and fear. In his own words: “California voters would then decide if students with penises should use bathrooms and locker designated for males and students with vaginas should use restrooms designated for females, or if those places should be free-for-alls based on how students say they feel.” The idea that opening up bathrooms to people’s gender identity instead of biological gender is not going to be some slippery slope to orgies, sexual assault in the bathrooms and the like. In other areas, school districts have already implemented similar plans and have seen no misconduct. The only reported incident was fabricated by an anti-LBGT group.

Specifically, it gives students in public k-12 schools the right “to participate in sex-segregated programs, activities and facilities” based on their self-perception of their true gender, regardless of their biological sex. The law will prevent California’s nearly 1,000 school districts from segregating transgender students from their peers by placing them in programs that go against their identity. Masen Davis, Executive Director of the Transgender Law Center has stated, “Now, every transgender student in California will be able to get up in the morning knowing that when they go to school as their authentic self, they will have the same fair chance at success as their classmates.” Of course, the law is common sense. But on November 12, the “news” publication The Daily Caller published an article by education editor Eric Owens indicating that the law actually makes bathrooms a free-for-all, and has taken it upon himself to try and repeal the law through a referendum. In order to garner support, he has cited “privacy concerns.” He needed to collect 505,000 signatures required by November 6 (which he has claimed that he has more than enough, which has not yet been verified), the law will freeze on January 1, when it’s scheduled to take effect, and its

Epic Wrap Wlkn_Fire Photograph by Dani Kvatek Rock wrap 23

chris talbot-heindl (con’t). This isn’t the first time that Owens has reared his ugly head in matters involving transgender rights. In a September article, he took the time to make fun of bullied transgender homecoming queen Cassidy Lynn Campbell. Earlier, he made fun of transgender student Kasey Caron who was disqualified for homecoming king “because [Caron] apparently still has a vagina.” Besides the fact that Owens is a disgusting individual who seems obsessed with the genitalia of others, he is also leading a misinformation campaign, attempting to character assassinate the bill and all politicians who support it. What is true is that gender identity, according to the American Academy of Pediatrics, not some right-wing nut job, is determined by the age of four. It is constant, and not likely to switch according to some law as Owen has suggested. Unfortunately, Owen is not alone in opposing this bill. Privacy For All Students has been created around the referendum campaign. It is being managed by Frank Schubert, the same bigot who opposed equal rights before in the campaign for Prop 8. “There is no protection for students that object to sharing bathrooms, showers, and locker rooms with students of the opposite sex. Such students could be subject to discrimination claims and punishment under antibullying laws. Male and female students should be able to get an education and develop healthy heterosexual relationships in a stable environment,” a statement from Privacy For All Students says. What I say to such a bigoted statement is this: you are worried about the comfort level of a few students while this law is worrying about the safety of others. Your cisgendered, straight privilege is showing. If male and female students are going to be derailed of developing “healthy heterosexual relationships,” there is a good chance they weren’t heterosexual in the first place. The real danger is in the threats and discrimination against transgender people when they attempt to do the most basic of things – urinate. Imagine for a moment, you have to take a leak. Your options are, risk going in the female bathroom and having the girls in the loo possibly freaking out and screaming because you look like you don’t belong there (I have experienced this first hand – as I did not feminize


in the face until I was well into my teens); or go in the male bathroom and possibly be harassed or assaulted. In some cases, transgendered teens try not to go to the bathroom at all. The law aims to give transgender students this one, mundane, but powerful thing to not have to fear and dread. It also may help to foster acceptance of transgender students by their peers, by demystifying transgenderism at a younger age, rather than allowing people like Owen and Schubert to get into adulthood with no concept of or empathy for the daily struggles of transgender people. As Schubert openly admits, he has no idea what all this transgender business even is! “We introduce this concept called gender identity and I don’t have any idea what that is. You can change your appearance, you can change your presentation. You cannot change your gender.” California State Assemblyman Tom Ammiano, author of the bill, said that there needed to be a consistent policy across all of California’s school districts, and pointed out that the Los Angeles Unified School District provided the example. “The law merely spells out that non-discrimination is the law of California…Experts told legislators repeatedly that the policy [in Los Angeles] doesn’t cause problems. It solves problems.” Davis isn’t afraid of the referendum. He says, “We are confident that this fair-minded state will support all students, including [those who are] transgender…When Californians are able to meet and become familiar with transgender people, even if only on television or online, they will come to understand the truth – that everyone should be treated with fairness and respect. Every parent wants to see their child be supported and have a fair chance to succeed in school. It’s no different for parents of transgender students.” Geoff Kors, a political strategist for the National Center for Lesbian Rights, says that the fight itself will provide a lot of the harm. “Just [the fight against the law] is harmful to transgender students who are trying to go to school and fit in with their classmates. They’re hearing these horrific messages about who they are.” But for one high school junior, it has already had the opposite effect. Ashton Lee, a transgender student says the law has increased awareness and helped inspire

chris talbot-heindl (con’t). changes in his school already – including his use of the boys’ bathroom. “It just feels better than having to be the kid that uses the staff bathroom or being the boy in the girls bathroom or not being about to use it at all. It just helps get me to being normal at my school.” Of course, if the referendum does pass, it can always be overturned by the Supreme Court, just like Prop 8 and DOMA.

Chris Critiques: Christmas Charities By: Chris Talbot-Heindl November 19, 2013

Tis the season for giving and charitability – which I suppose is a good thing since we in America tend to give the middle finger to everyone in need during the rest of the year. But what amount of your charitable donation actually makes it to the people who need the charity and which charities are conscionable to give to? This year always brings out the cynic in me – both because I’m sick of all this “goodwill toward men” that has a start and expiration date; and because I’ve been known to give to organizations, unwittingly disobeying my own paradigm of giving. For instance, I used to give to the Salvation Army ringers every year, to United Way, and two days ago, I realized that I should no longer donate or purchase from Goodwill. Technically, The Salvation Army is not a “charity,” but an evangelical protestant church that uses some money to help the needy, but also uses donated money to actively oppress LGBT rights. They have threatened to close soup kitchens if they are forced to follow the same civil rights

laws as everyone else when it comes to dealing with gay employees. This is, of course, ironic, since their mission since being founded in 1865 is “to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ and to meet human needs in His name without discrimination.” The Salvy is the second largest charitable organization in the U.S. and one of the world’s largest providers of social aid – providing disaster relief and assistance to the poor. In The Salvy’s own words, “Scripture forbids sexual intimacy between members of the same sex. The Salvation Army believes, therefore, that Christians whose sexual orientation is primarily or exclusively same-sex are called upon to embrace celibacy as a way of life…Likewise, there is no scriptural support for demeaning or mistreating anyone for reason of his or her sexual orientation. The Salvation Army opposes any such abuse…In keeping with these convictions, the services of The Salvation Army are available to all who qualify, without regard to sexual orientation.” So, basically, the official stance is that homosexuality is wrong, but so is denying Christian charitability to someone in need due to their sexual orientation. That may seem all good and alright to some, but they give some of the money collected during the giving season to organizations with lobbyists who actively fight for anti-gay policies. For instance, when New Zealand considered passing the Homosexual Law Reform Act in 1986, The Salvy collected signatures against the attempt. The act decriminalized consensual sex between men. In the UK, the Salvy actively pushed for the passage of an amendment to the Local Government Act that stated that authorities “shall not…promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.” In 2001, The Salvy tried to get a resolution passed in federal government that they could ignore local non-discrimination laws that protected LGBT people. Also in 2001, The Salvy lobbied the Bush administration to deny grants and tax deductions to any cities or states that included LGBT non-discrimination laws. The same can be said for The United Way. While the official word from The United Way is that they do not discriminate, and while many United Way chapters


chris talbot-heindl (con’t). support many other service organizations, several of which provide services to LGBT people, one of the largest receivers of money from The United Way remains the Boy Scouts of America. And as we all know, the Boy Scouts has taken to blatantly discriminate against LGBT people. If you do give to The United Way, you should also take the time to designate where you want the funding to go. You can designate on a pledge card one or a few specific organizations that you want to receive your contributions. Or, you can just directly donate to those organizations yourself, bypassing The United Way as a middleman.

asshole with your charitability this year is to give to a local organization that you know much about. Otherwise, you may have some research ahead of you before you drop a dime in the bucket and pat yourself on the back.

Chris Critiques: CBS and Mike & Molly By: Chris Talbot-Heindl November 21, 2013

In an expose in June, which I found out about two days ago, I learned Goodwill does not deserve your “good will.” The multi-million dollar “non-profit” corporation exploits its disabled workers, sometimes paying as little as 22 center per hour due to a labor law loophole. The loophole, called the Special Wage Certificate Program, allows non-profit companies to hire disabled workers based on their abilities with no minimum. The CEO of the company claims that he is doing the disabled workers a favor by giving them the opportunity to be a part of something and that without Goodwill’s “good will” these people would not be employed. This sounds akin to “you should be grateful we’ve hired you at all, take what you are given.” What is more likely the case is that many of the workers are mentally or emotionally disabled, and may not be able to determine what is right for them and Goodwill is taking full advantage of this fact. Some Goodwill chapters are going so far as to say they are doing disabled workers a favor by paying subminimum wage, claiming that the minimum wage would cause many workers with disabilities to lose their SSI benefits and medical insurance, which is completely false. Instead of giving your used clothes and items to these scumbags, maybe this charitable season, give it to local charities, such as a second-hand store run by a local shelter, or housing services for domestic violence and sexual assault survivors, local churches to redistribute, or the local food pantry or baby pantry. Maybe the safest way to avoid being an unintentional 26

Yesterday was Transgender Day of Rememberance, a day to honor and remember victims (reported and unreported) of anti-trans hatred and violence who have been murdered in the past year. It’s also a day to spread information about transgender people in an attempt to combat the bullying, discrimination, and violence that people in the community face every day. As you may remember from my critique Cisgendered Crybabies last week, there is a lot of misinformation out there leading to some to feel justified in offering protection to or justified in beating and murdering transgender people. Transgender people to the larger community are at best, a joke, according to a disgusting display by CBS in their show Mike & Molly. On February 11, in an episode entitled “The Pricess and the Troll,” Mike talks to Carl about Carl’s past exploits and how he hasn’t been trolling “since the shemale incident of ’08. You spent the whole night crying and gargling!” as Mike explains it. There are two offenses in this “joke,” first is the use of the derogatory term “shemale” and the second is that hitting on and finding out someone’s gender identity is a disgusting thing deserving of crying and cleaning out one’s mouth.

chris talbot-heindl (con’t). They of course, came under flak for this scene and were petitioned by different transgender rights groups. CBS officials actually met with Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD), and GLAAD kindly explained how the depictions, and further use of defaming language (Molly used the word “tranny,” which is also offensive) might harm the transgender community.

media in the coverage of their murders and identities harassed them. 73% of victims of LGBTQ murder were people of color.

So what kind of response did CBS and Mike & Molly make next? In the second episode of the new season (keep in mind with these times, each episode is only 20 minutes long):

6:34: In the Police Station locker room, Carl speaks of his and Mike’s close friendship. Mike says, “I don’t think this is the conversation we should be having near the shower.” 6: 38: Carl responds, “Don’t be homophobic, alright? A man can love another man without having to drop the soap.” 8:18: Friend of Molly’s, “Does this make us accomplices, because I’m too pretty for prison. Those girls will eat me for dinner.” Other friend, “Literally.” 13:06: Woman at the counter of a restaurant buys a milkshake for Carl. Molly: “Good for you, she’s gorgeous.” Mike: “You mean HE’S gorgeous.” Laugh track. Molly: [unbelieving] “No!” Waiter: “Yes. Every inch of him.” Carl: “I told you nothing happened.” Carl: “It’s a classic case of he said, he said.” Laugh track. 13:56: Molly questions the woman: “How do you hide it?” Lucette: “Well, there’s a lot of tucking and a lot of tape.” 14:09: Molly talks into a recorder, “Movie ideas: a street savvy cop falls in love with a beautiful, cross dressing informant. Ooh. An officer and his gentleman.” 14:19: Carl “defends” himself. “It was one kiss and it was New Year’s Eve.” Waiter: “I assume the kissing stopped when the ball dropped.” Laugh track. I sat through that whole piece of garbage to get those quotes. Honestly, I was waiting for that 80’s-style end of the episode take-back. You know, the one where everyone learns an epic lesson and they take back every ignorant, bigoted, piece of shit thing they said throughout the episode. But that moment never came. Here are some facts. In 2012, 53% of LGBTQ victims of murder were transgender women. In 2013, CeCe Acoff of Clevelend and Diamond Williams of Philadelphia were first brutally murdered and then in death, the

Well this is what Transgender Day of Rememberance is about, CBS and Mike & Molly. We honor all the transgender people murdered in the last year:

Is that funny CBS? Is that what jokes are made of Mike & Molly writers, Mark Roberts, Billy Gardell, and Melissa McCarthy? I hope on this day after Transgender Day of Remembrance, you are feeling like the assholes you are, because that is all you are to me.

Chris Critiques: Brian Lowry’s Comedy Critique By: Chris Talbot-Heindl November 22, 2013

Brian Lowry’s critique of Sarah Silverman’s comedic style boils down to one incompetent, misogynistic take-away: Lowry believes that a woman should not have an edge to her. In his own opening words, “There’s something simultaneously fascinating and maddening about Sarah Silverman – graced with genuine talent and a well-defined comedic persona on one hand, and a commitment to pushing past the edge in a way that blunts her appeal on the other.” He then further explains her gifts, including in it her looks. It seems to be Lowry’s opinion that a beautiful woman cannot use vulgarity to drive home a point or for as a comedic tool as it makes her appear “determined to prove she can be as dirty and distasteful as the boys.” Well, Lowry, I think you should leave critiquing comedy to “the girls.” You are obviously seeking to distinguish 27

chris talbot-heindl (con’t), wlkn _ fire, dana talbot-heindl. yourself in part by proving that you can be just as misogynistic as any common Neanderthal.

make anyone who disagrees with her feel completely incompetent.

You also don’t seem to know much about comedy. “Sarah Silverman has frittered around the edges of breakout success.” Umm…I do believe that she is the most famous female modern comic. She’s had numerous specials, tours, theater runs, and a series on Comedy Central. I don’t know too many comics who can say that, male or female.

If the problem is that you don’t think comedy should be “dirty or distasteful” then maybe you shouldn’t watch it; because comedy should push to the level of discomfort to get a point across.

Silverman uses what is known in the literary world as “hyperbole,” being that you write for Variety, I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. She also uses the vulgarity in her performances as a tool to show the ludicrousness of the societal standards she pokes fun at. Silverman isn’t being like “the boys” when she pulls out the raunchiness; she’s using explicit language to comically present a woman’s perspective. She uses full-frontal language about sex, race, sexual orientation, and politics in such a masterful way as to

Light Projection Wlkn_Fire & Dana Talbot-Heindl Rock stack and photograph 28

I think what is more likely is that you don’t want to see someone with a vagina using that kind of language. To which I say: if you weren’t an antiquated, straight, white, dinosaur, maybe you could learn to enjoy the beautiful, lewd, risqué, rude, and genius creature that is Silverman. But, alas, you are, so maybe you should stick to comedians who keep it G-Rated, who happen to have a [as my smarty friend, John Becker would say, “get ready to clutch those pearls…”] penis – you know, Tim Allen, or something. I think your article should be retitled, “Brian Lowry’s Bad Career Move: Dribbling His Male Chauvinism on Variety.” Oops, you got a little on your shirt.

michael gillan maxwell. Short Fuse

By: Michael Gillan Maxwell He flips through channels, looking for anything worth watching. Someone said a person’s lifespan is shortened by 22 minutes for every hour of television watched. He should have been dead years ago. Eyes glazed over, he gapes at flickering images, a kaleidoscope of catastrophe; pestilence, economic collapse, religious extremists, suicide bombers, civil war, revolution, record-breaking drought, floods, global warming, earthquakes, hurricanes and a wild fire out of control in Colorado. The bitter taste of bile fizzles in his throat. He finds a movie about Vikings with flaming torches pitted against ferocious werewolves. The Vikings have Australian accents, the werewolves clearly actors dressed up in ridiculous wolf suits. A commercial advertises a remake of Towering Inferno.

His eyelid twitches. The smell of burnt gas station roller dogs is nauseating. Sweating like a stevedore, he pays and gets back in the car. Walmart is where style goes to die. There’s a man in Sporting Goods with a mullet haircut and a tattoo that says “Do it in the dirt!” He’s seen that guy at the dirt track races. The man’s trying out baseball bats. His mind a screeching smoke alarm, he realizes what he must do. He grabs a bat and heads over to Electronics, his senses assailed by images on 27 televisions; break dancing, burning buildings, cooking shows, Judge Judy, an oil spill, another school shooting. He can already picture the headline. “Man Walks into Walmart, Smashes 27 Widescreen Televisions With Baseball Bat.” He likes the way that sounds. The bat feels almost too hot to hold in his hand as he strolls over to a widescreen flickering with the image of a raging fire and starts swinging.

Abruptly, he turns it off, jumps in the car and heads for Walmart. He turns on the radio. Nothing but bad news. He comes up behind a Dodge Caravan with a sign in the window that reads “Baby on Board.” It annoys him. He takes it personally, like anyone without a baby on board is a deranged, meth addled, demolition derby jockey. Is it to remind him to stop driving fast and taking chances? Or to interrupt the text message he must surely be composing? Will it be the tipping point in his decision not to push the pedal to the floor and sideswipe their vehicle, forcing it off the side of the road at 60 miles per hour? He sees the bumper sticker “I brake for unicorns” and his face burns with aggravation. Temples pulsating and hands clammy on the steering wheel, he shifts over to the passing lane, guns the engine and gives the van wide berth. He stops for gas and wonders what it would feel like to rob a convenience store. Still contemplating that question, he scans the headlines of the tabloids as he waits to pay. “Dog Accidentally Shoots Man With His Own Gun,” “Elvis’s Hidden Extraterrestrial Daughter,” “Swedish Man Bursts Into Flames on Train Platform.” Dammit! I could make better headlines than that. 29

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The Bitchin' Kitsch December 2013 Issue  

The Bitchin' Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open...

The Bitchin' Kitsch December 2013 Issue  

The Bitchin' Kitsch is a zine for artists, poets, prose writers, or anyone else who has something to say. It exists for the purpose of open...