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Issue 2 $1.00

OPEN YOUR EYES.

Interview With Juliana Hatfield

Reflections From the U.S.-Mexico Border How American Materialism Has Changed Hip Hop Betty White Pop Quiz ...and more!


Note From the Editor

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Hold Your Head when The Beat Drop: How America‟s Obsession with Materialism Changed Hip Hop p.4

COMIC: Jack Hatch, Motivational Speaker p.6

Betty White For President: Pop Quiz

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Serena Javelina : Cocktail Napkins & the Winter Olympics Smoke „Em if you Got „Em: The Last Tobacconist

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Voices From the Border: Reflections from La Frontera

Such A Beautiful Girl: Interview With Juliana Hatfield

Anti-Censorship Page: Legalize Marijuana

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Cover art by Carlos Ruiz Jive Turkey [jahyv tur-kee] : one who acts as though they know everything, but in fact, know nothing. A bullshitter. (I.E., George W. Bush ain‟t

nothin‟ but a jive turkey). © DILATE magazine, 2010. All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be reproduced without the express written permission of Lauren Harvey and DILATE magazine. DILATE magazine and the DILATE magazine logo are either trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective organizations. All text and 2 images contained in this publication are the property of their respective owners, and protected under the Copyright act and the laws of the United States government.


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When I decided to write this article, I questioned my ability to truly analyze the hip hop movement. Have I been there since the beginning? It feels like it, but I was just a kid when hip hop was already spread worldwide. Hip Hop music started way back in the mid-1970‟s, and was popularized first in the South Bronx in New York City. In August of 1979, the month I was born, “Rapper‟s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang was #4 on the R& B Charts. I was 5 years old watching the break dancing movie “Breakin‟” when I fell in love with hip hop. By the time I was 6, I got my first rap single, Run-DMC, “It‟s Tricky”, and I discovered Salt N‟ Pepa and the Beastie Boys. All I wanted to do was be a break dancer in the streets, poppin‟ and lockin‟. By the time I was in middle school(1992), N.W.A. had paved the way for Gangsta Rap, and hip hop music in general had evolved into a whole new genre, bringing together rap, R&B, and urban pop. Snoop Doggy Dogg, Tupac, and Dr. Dre ruled the rap charts, while new acts like Mary J. Blige and Mariah Carey were on their way to becoming popular for years to come. Rap was becoming more politically and socially conscious, but was still also about partying and having fun. Rap groups like Arrested Development, Blackstar, and Digable Planets rapped about social injustices, jazz, and life on the streets. Tupac mixed gangsta raps with poetic raps about the state of the world, 4 treating women right, and his realizations of his own mortality.


The rappers of the early to late nineties weren‟t concerned about driving the most expensive cars, but rapped about driving classic muscle cars. Expensive booze like Cristal was mentioned occasionally, but so were cheap brands like Old English malt liquor and Seagram‟s gin. But as a new generation was born in the late 1990‟s and early 2000‟s, mainstream rap became less about real life and bringing social injustice to light and more about flossin‟. Songs from the 90‟s like “Mr. Wendal”, about homelessness, and “Keep Ya Head Up”, about single motherhood in the black community, gave way to songs like “Diamonds on my neck”, and more and more rap videos celebrated material excess. Having hip hop songs to dance to is one thing, but mainstream hip hop music that is saturated with materialism and lacking substance is another. Hip Hop music We gotta put the soul back into hip hop.

“Would you rather have a Lexus or justice? A dream or some substance? A Beamer, a necklace or freedom?” -Dead Prez, “Hip Hop

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By Chris Vee

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During the 2008 election, Betty White referred to Sarah Palin as: a. Horse Face b. Crazy Bitch c. Stupid Republican hooker d. Gun-toting moron 2. In “The Proposal”, Betty White sings along with Sandra bullock to what song? a. ”I've had the time of my life” b. “Funky Cold Medina” c. “Get Low” d. “Pour Some Sugar on Me” 3. During the 2008 election, Betty White referred to Barack Obama as: a. A politician with a great butt b. The king c. Sexy chocolate d. One hot piece of man 4. In an episode of “The Golden Girls”, Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose (Betty White) go to the store to buy condoms. Blanche and Dorothy both get lambskin condoms, but Rose gets: a. Ribbed for her pleasure b. Magnums c. Ultra Sensitive d. Extra Small 5. Betty White loves animals- she said: a. “I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it’s such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her.” b. “My favorite animal is steak.” c. “All creatures must learn to coexist. That’s why the brown bear and the field mouse can share their lives in harmony. Of course, they can’t mate or the mice would explode.” d. “Animals are delicious.” 6. George Clooney recently referred to Betty White as a: a. Wild woman in bed b. Fantastic lover c. Bobcat in the sack d. Hot piece 9 of ass ` (Answers on Next page)


Page 9 Quiz Answers: 1. b, 2. c, 3. d,10 4. c, 5. c, 6. c

It’s True! Javelina tequila has made me so much less of a bitch!


Shunned. Sent outside in the blistering heat or blizzard cold as outcasts. Preferred to be off premises, out-of-sight-out-of-mind if you please. There are millions of us, the undesirable, the rejected. No, I’m not referring to the homeless. Nor am I talking about the workers with criminal backgrounds. The Pro-Choice advocates? Nope. The IRS? Wrong again. I’m referring to the common tobacco user, the Smoker. A pause for you, the reader, to shudder. In recent years, smoking indoors has been banned throughout businesses, restaurants, bars, hotels, and in some cases, even the parking lots. Gone are the days of having a public after dinner smoke with your coffee. Enjoying your beer with a cigarette, simply taboo! Tax hikes, abolitions, along with ill-defined health and safety “issues” have made smokers unwelcome even in their own place of work. Now, I’m not going to droll on about the politics, the protests (the most recent being the Arizona Tea Party in the summer of ’09), or the raging battle for or against tobacconist’s rights. Through all that insanity, smokers can all agree that a refuge is indeed needed. A place in a time of need, a little corner spot where smoke breaks can be what they are meant to be, away from public scowls and scorns. A haven where tobacco use is not only accepted, but welcomed. I have found such a place, a refuge and a haven, and its closer than you think. Seated in downtown Prescott Valley, at 7584 E. Hwy 69, between Papa John’s Pizza and Subway is a smoker’s retreat. Allow me to introduce you to Smoke’M: A Tobacconist And Unique Gifts Specialist Shop. This is the last public establishment in Yavapai County (excluding reservation land) one may enter, light a cigarette, cigar, or any tobacco of choice, and receive a warm welcome. 11 .


Upon entering, you may find Teri, co-owner, stocking the shelves or preparing an order for new statuettes or wind chimes. Meanwhile, Lori or Marlene may be working the counter sales, refilling the coffeepot, or counting and stocking the fine cigars in their own custom made walk in humidor. There is a glass table where you may find local working men such as my friends Steve and Ralph, enjoying the morning with discussions of current events and politics over a smoke and coffee. Later in the day you may meet Subway, Papa Johns, Hollywood Video, and Jack-in-the-Box employees taking full advantage of an escape from the outdoors on their smoke break. If you are lucky, you may spot a local writer as well penning away in his notebook. We have many differences, but one similarity: We smoke. Whether it is to start our day, make it through the day, or to end our day, here is where we can gather to smoke in a relaxing atmosphere, away from increasing and unfriendly rallies against our vice of choice. We come here to relax. The variety of folk who come here are as diverse as the products they buy. If I were to pitch the store, I would speak of the endless fairy statuettes, the decorative knives, swords, paintings, and plaques, the gifts of fantasy and lore, the incense and other aromatherapies, and other things non-tobacco related. In truth, I would say anything that may take your mind OFF of the tobacconist title. It is different here. The title of Tobacconist is spoken of with pride. The Smoker’s Creed hangs upon the wall and with it, a sense of proud recognition. However, the title also comes with a price. The continuous uphill struggle to keep up to date with the flow of new federal, state, county, and town regulations, ordinances, restrictions, and laws in general is a thankless, fulltime job in itself. If you were to ask any of these hardworking ladies about staying up to date with the codes, they would sigh and weave you a story. A story of regulations replacing regulations on a daily basis, holding their breath and waiting for new laws to take precedence. Change is truly the only constant here. 12


In other words, Ibuprofen stocks would skyrocket if more entrepreneurs were to try their hands at retail outlets for tobacco. Tobacco sales are not enough in themselves to keep the store going, for there is minimal profit; recent higher taxes have seen to that. Keeping track of the inventory, following the specialty gifts and new trends, along with keeping the store well stocked with tobacco is an art form in itself. Throw in the need to keep and maintain happy customers and you may qualify for therapy in your golden years. Teri is used to the hustle and bustle of partaking in this industry. She seems immune to the barrage of the challenges that continuously knock on her door. The ladies who join her also meet the challenge seemingly unscathed (though their families may have something to say on that matter). I had to ask Teri, “After all is said and done, why do you do it?” She told me, “Having been a smoker my entire life and have watched the progression of oppression of the smoker for the last couple of decades, I get it. I understand how my customers feel about this.” “I love what I do and the people that visit. We are real and not so politically correct, making us ever so much more fun.” She adds with a smile. Whatever the reasons, on behalf of the shunned smokers, the ones made to trek out through snow and winds for that nicotine fix, the ones lighting up under an unforgiving sun, we thank you for our small refuge.+

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Revolving By Hillary Owen I can’t look in your eyes when you say you love me so I’ve been counting the hairs in your eyebrows. It looks like I’m paying attention, and when you pause, I know it’s been long enough and I can fake it. I’ve been counting the hairs in your eyebrows while we’re having sex, and when I get to the last hair I know it’s been long enough and I can fake it. Back and forth, a sawing motion, then it’s over. While we’re having sex and when I get to the last hair when I’m shaving, I’m thinking about razorblades. Back and forth, a sawing motion, then it’s over. One precise cut, and a life is ended. When I’m shaving, I’m thinking about razorblades, the way they skim dangerously over skin. One precise cut, and my life is ended. Careful, without breaking it, sharpness traces skin. The way they skim dangerously over skin, I imagine your hands can strangle glass, careful, without breaking it. Skin embraces sharpness when your thumb rests on the side of my wordless mouth. I’m imagining your hands can strangle glass so it looks like I’m paying attention. When you pause, your thumb rests on the side of my wordless mouth, but I can’t look in your eyes when you say you love me.

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pome By Joel B., wherever you are these moments of rapturous decline betwixt a monstrous indelible forthwith and an awful meandering mess can capture these eloquent rages and surely enough allow them to feverfade its a miniscule derision of our omnip potent and grafter sighs that leave the mixture to the creators and the lessons to the vine a mirror could subdue each canker on our wispy breath and have enough to partake of the wilting stretches of conscientious birth with each pace toward a blithely and foreword gift that cancels all affections only to passionately rearrange them and throw our own reconciliation through the windows of our day to the day catching eyes of mine are shapely human worlds with calm eyes, watching themselves. and children waiting as I do what I will to the world we share I’m terribly afraid they’ll be taught to take a stab at it. not much else frightens me, except perhaps half of what I have to say and don’t Nimble hands help themselves to the food we dish out and the sustenance is joyful. I can add my glee to quicken a smile that might just be the most wonderful thing I can say. and as I do what I do my urge swells to feed every hungry mouth and clothe every naked form so universal and only because we do not know those fears Were not afraid of going without when we have the choice what I need is your magic that keeps the worlds of you together, and what i need is help helping people live and die their own way outside of these digital walls I need to help the peasants who still work the land to give us what we throw away so they can die slowly- its not a joke. and what I want is for you to think about it. 16

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and what you want is a second helping and a second coming and a second chance and a last dance. To the morrow we will wake a foamy churning of the sea our hindsight- our reconciliation with the presents’ firm grip upon its gift. and somehow I will get up and do what I can to help you and teach myself how. We don’t need to realize what we have done we need our will to make what we do now good enough. Life has to grow, nothing needs to get any bigger except us. I urge you to do more than your religious figures did, why else would you follow them? I want you to scream louder and march further that any protester has, because those who presume power will have it if you don’t threaten it I need you to grow up and be like your true mother the Earth, give your love, let people stand on you so you can understand them, and when people step on you shake them, give and give because She knows and I know that there is a universe of expansive energy and you and I will still be that universe tomorrow Irregardless and especially because of how endless we are inside of ourselves. poooeeeemmmm Sit here with a bittle little hope +

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If I could Show You By Lauren Harvey If I could show you my life

walk you through the deep stained corridors of my past and lean you back

against a rickety burnt pine

blue sky leaning on granite mountains me and my brother still digging for Indian clay on the tip of spring

the storms of my childhood seasons and solstices passed

my first love's lips on a rainy street at dusk the perceived burden of my adolescence the recklessness of my spirit and me

startled on a dusty country cliff by my will to live stumbling aimless down Whiskey Row

among friends and friends that flittered and floated away lovers and cousins and the light of youth juniper leaves on a southern breeze the forest after the fire

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Reflections, La frontera I am consistently being reminded of my humanity.

By Dana Crawford

I am impressed, overwhelmed, and inspired by the people with whom we are meeting and speaking. I find that the more I see, the more I begin to understand. I see a jagged, warring scar across the Sonoran desert and along the Rio Grande, bisecting lands, environments and communities that are each delicate in their own way. This device that is meant to divide us, which claims to protect us, has, in actuality, spawned a web of partnerships and relationships that cross boundaries near and far. More than anything, I feel connected. I feel connected to this land, to people on both sides of an enormous, gratuitous, ugly fence, and to the people who refuse to recognize an arbitrary line. I feel connected to migrants, to shelters, to day laborers and to organizers; to lawyers, to ranchers, to radicals, to coffee growers and coffee roasters; to detention centers and holding cells; to border patrol, control rooms, agents and guards; to maquiladoras, to farmers and fishermen; to the San Pedro River, the Santa Cruz, and the Colorado; to the Huachucha Mountains, Baboquivari, the Tumacacori Highlands and the Sky Islands; to the marines, U.S. Marshalls, public defenders and the Mexican Consulate; to teachers, to pastors, to animals and to each one of you. I see so many relationships unfolding throughout this journey that don’t stop upon my return home. These rivers all flow from the same source; they are the veins of our homelands and everybody else’s. Having a personal relationship to this area has given many faces to an issue that, even now, I feel like I can just begin to understand. This relationship, however, serves as a jumping-off point; I am eager to dive in. We will always have a role in performing the border; it is inescapable. Trying to understand the complex relationships born out of this border is the first step in a long struggle for equality and reform. After meeting many of the players involved in la lucha, I am left with a divine inspiration, a sense of empowerment, and most importantly, hope.+ 19


I was sitting on a shoddy twin bed with no sheets, staring at a gorgeous Dutch woman wearing only a thong, red light shining over the edge of her buttocks. My best friend, Ken, had dared me to summon this “professional” from her window, and now, here we both were, stoned out of our minds and not sure what to do in this tiny room with this beautiful prostitute. We were in the infamous Red Light District of Amsterdam, and only a few minutes earlier had been wandering the streets wide-eyed and completely fascinated, like the rest of the tourists, and now, we were on the other side of the window. Ken was so high he seemed at ease, almost comfortably numb, but I was increasingly becoming aware that I was sitting on a prostitute's bed, and fidgeted nervously, thinking of ways to politely back out of this “transaction”. She must have sensed my uneasiness, and walked over to me, standing a few inches away. “Do you want to touch me?”, she purred with her soft Dutch accent. I opened my mouth, but nothing escaped. I wanted to scream, “No! You're a prostitute! Where am I? I am so goddamn stoned, I want a pop tart, that's all!” I apologized, stood up, gave her 30 Euros (about $40), and slipped out with Ken trailing behind me. When I planned my trip to Amsterdam a year ago, I never truly knew what to expect—and here I was, my 3rd day in this amazing city, and I was walking out of a brothel, stoned on hash and headed for dinner. Most, if not all, foreigners who travel to Amsterdam are curious about the legal prostitution trade, and many go as far as to take a tour of the Red Light District. These tours are given by the Prostitution Information Center, and are led by ex-prostitutes who candidly enlighten you with facts about the safety precautions taken to protect the women, the business aspect of the trade, and the positive and negative aspects of choosing 20 that profession. Although we were told about the tour by one of the security guards at our hostel, we decided to discover the District on our own.


as to take a walking tour of the Red light District. These tours are given by the Prostitution Information Center, and are led by ex-prostitutes who candidly enlighten you with facts about the safety precautions taken to protect the women, the business aspect of the trade, and the positive and negative aspects of choosing that profession. Although we were told about the tour by one of the security guards at our hostel, we decided to discover the District on our own. We headed over to an excellent Spanish restaurant down the road from our hostel that we had eaten at the night before. The tapas were among the best we had ever tasted, and the Paella was exquisite. Amsterdam's culinary scene is very diverse, and we wound up eating Indonesian and Moroccan food more often than not, simply because those cuisines seemed to be fairly common, and the smells always drifted out to the street and lured us in. Our hostel, The Bulldog, was located in the center of the Red Light District, but was still a pleasant surprise after hearing the horrible stories of roaches, drug dealers, and crime from other travelers in Europe who had stayed in hostels. Ken and I were staying in a 4-bed dorm with two female ravers from Canada, who, despite the fact that they constantly had house and jungle music playing and always seemed to be rolling on Ecstasy, were decent roommates. Krista, the taller of the two women, was extremely talkative, and told us stories of her previous trips to Amsterdam, educating us by sharing her previous mistakes made while visiting. Ahni, the shorter, more reserved one, rarely spoke unless she was interrupting Krista to ask when they were going dancing. Ken and I had gone to a money changer upon our arrival to Amsterdam, and had been charged an arm and a leg for the exchange. Krista let us in on the little-known fact by travelers to Amsterdam- using your ATM/Debit card to withdraw Euros only costs you the $2 or $3 fee that your bank charges, and nothing more. The tips were very well appreciated, and Ken and I felt obligated to join Krista and Ahni when they invited us to a club in the city center called Paradiso. Apparently, this was a hot spot on the weekends, and Ahni knew the DJ who was spinning, and could get us in for free. We took the tram, a fairly reasonable form of transportation in Amsterdam, as we paid only 2 Euros per ticket (this was in 2007). However, bike rental is still the cheapest way to travel in the city. We got off at Leidseplein square, and 21 were surprised by the bustling nightlife and busy streets.


There were tons of bars, clubs, and trendy restaurants filled with tourists and locals alike, and we made our way through to club Paradiso. There was a moderate line of club goers waiting to get in, but after dropping the name of her DJ friend, Ahni got us in within minutes. Ken and I weren't too into the House/trance music scene, but we enjoyed the specialty Mojitos, and managed to dance and party with Krista and Ahni until retiring back to the dorm at 4am. Ken and I woke up at about noon, and went to a Pancake house that Krista recommended, which was excellent. The Dutch, according to the Maitre'd at the restaurant, invented Pancakes, which are like a thicker version of crepes in America. The restaurant had outdoor seating, which was very pleasant, as the weather was perfect—it was July, and the temperatures during the day hovered around 75 degrees. After breakfast, we headed to a “Coffee House”, a place where visitors can purchase and smoke marijuana and hashish, and proceeded to check out their English menu. The Dutch are very English-friendly, and most everyone in Amsterdam knows at least some English. I wasn't a regular pot smoker, and had never tried anything else, but, on a whim, I purchased the Moroccan hashish. You can bring in your own smoking apparatus or use the ones in the coffee houses, but I wasn't a regular smoker, so I requested a pipe. Ken was just going to get weed, but after seeing the look on my face after my first hit of hashish, he joined me. I have no idea how long we were there—the hashish was incredibly strong, and time seemed to crawl by. Still high, we left the coffee shop eager to go relax, and took a tram to Vondel Park, a gorgeous green park in the museum district of the city. We purchased some freshly baked bread at a bakery across from the park, and found a quiet spot next to a stream. We relaxed and talked about life while laying in the green grass for what seemed like hours. Vondel Park, once we came out of our high a bit, was simply delightful- alive with natural beauty and all kinds of people- tourists, locals, jugglers, boys playing soccer on the grass, and people crowding around street performers. We wandered around, stopping at a patat, a food stand, where we were served huge French fries and mayonnaise that still are the best fries either one of us have tasted. 22


Once the high subsided, we decided to head over to one of the many(over 20) museums in Amsterdam, the Sex Museum. The sun was about to go down, but we had called previously and found out that the Sex Museum was open until 11:30pm. The Sex Museum houses a collection of erotic art, paintings, sculpture, and more, all in celebration of sex. This is one of the most popular tourist attractions, but is not by any means an attraction of the “peep show” variety. It is a very interesting museum, with sections of the Kama Sutra on display, a pictorial history of the way we view sex, and much more. There is definitely some art that may evoke a raising of the eyebrow or a giggle(i.e., the “birdbath” encircled with copper penises), but that just adds to the experience. As we were exiting the Sex Museum, Ken and I wandered over to a group of street performers, and leaned back against the building to watch. One performer, a tall, slim woman that looked like a model, was painting abstract paintings at lightning speed onto small pieces of cardboard. Her eyes were wild and pupils big and black, like an artist in the midst of creation. She frantically finished each piece within about a minute, and gave the pieces to those walking by. This made me smile, and I walked over to get a closer look. She introduced herself, and said that she was part of an artist’s commune in the center of the city, Arti et Amicitiae. Her name was Jan, and we all talked for about an hour, about the beauty of art and performance, about America and Amsterdam. She introduced us to her performer friends, and invited us to a party at the Arti et Amicitiae celebrating the new exhibits and artists. It was still early (about 10pm, early in Amsterdam), and we went with Jan and her friends to one of their friends’ apartments, a poet name Thatcher. I was excited to find this group of artists, performers, and writers, as I am a writer and artist myself, and Ken is also a writer. Thatcher’s apartment was magnificent, a bohemian haven filled with beaded curtains, tapestries, and all sorts of trinkets and things from around the world. We hung out with Jan, Thatcher and friends, smoked very high-quality marijuana, and headed over to Arti et Amicitiae. I was expecting a gutted-out warehouse, but it is a beautiful historic building, the art collective having been founded in the 1800’s. The building in and of itself is a work of art, and is open daily for visitors to see the exhibits and meet the artists. This party was apparently an annual event, so Ken and I felt very lucky to be in the company of so many artists and art-lovers. After 23

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over, Ken and I went back to the hostel and fell asleep to the sound of Jungle music from Ahni’s stereo. For the next few weeks, we attended all sorts of events and get-togethers with Jan and the people that we met at Arti et Amicitiae, drinking espresso with poets and playwrights, smoking hash with musicians, and traveling around Amsterdam and the surrounding towns with our new friends. For the free-spirited lover of art and pleasure, Amsterdam is a wonderful place to visit, and a great place to consider moving to. From the moment that Ken and I arrived back in America, we have been planning and saving for our next trip, and somewhere, in the back of our minds, dreaming of buying a one-way ticket.+

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We all lie, everyday- they might be little white lies, or they might be a long, intricate web of deceit that continues daily. I thought about the movie “Liar, Liar”, and contemplated what would happen if we all had no choice but to tell the truth. THIS: “I like your jeans!” Would Become THIS: “I look at your butt every day, but today it looks exceptional.” THIS: “Oh, yeah, I loved that book too!” Would Become THIS: “I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” THIS: “I think I'm going to chill at home tonight, take a break.” Would Become THIS: “I don't ever do anything. I'm going to go home and continue to not do anything.” THIS: “So, how is your girlfriend/boyfriend?” Would Become THIS: “Are you single yet? I am sick of waiting!” THIS: “I don't know if that's your color...” Would Become THIS: “That is an ugly ass shirt, and it's 2 sizes too small. I give up.” THIS: “What are you doing tonight?” Would Become THIS: “I'm horny.” 26

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THIS: “No, honey, you don't look fat in that!” Would Become THIS: “I'm not even paying attention, I just say what you want me to.” THIS: “What do you want for your birthday? Would Become THIS: “What could you use that's either cheap or second-hand?” THIS: “You are a good kisser.” Would Become THIS: “TAKE ME. NOW.” THIS: “No, I understand what you mean, Ann Coulter does have some good things to say.” Would Become THIS: “You never graduated Junior High, did you? Have you ever read a book? Are you blissful for any reason other than ignorance? I didn't think so.” THIS: “Can I hold your hand?” Would Become THIS: “Can I lick your face?” AND FINALLY... THIS: “We always go out to fancy places, honey- why don't we just throw on some jeans and grab a pizza, like when we first started dating? It will be fun!” Would Become THIS: “Your high-maintenance bullshit has drained me. I have a coupon for a large domino's pizza for $5, so how about I go donate some plasma and we go there instead? 27


Such a Beautiful Girl: An Interview with Juliana Hatfield

By Lauren Harvey I had the pleasure of talking with Juliana Hatfield, 3 days after the release of her 17th album, Peace and Love. Ever since starting the band The Blake Babies in 1986 at the age of 19, Juliana Hatfield has kept making music, both in and out of the mainstream. DILATE: I saw you play in Central Square in Cambridge a few years ago, you were great. JULIANA: “Oh at T.T. & the Bear's.” DILATE: I lived in Cambridge for awhile- actually between Porter square and Inman square- on beacon street for awhile. It's weird, I moved back a few years later, and lived right outside of Brookline in JP- totally different experience, I hated it. Are you cool with Boston, or do you think you'll end up somewhere else in a few years? JULIANA: “ don't know.. I'm in Cambridge... and I like it here- but you know, I don't know if I'll stay here forever. I'm just here out of inertia, really. If I had a really good reason to move, I would. Cambridge is kinda special.. I rarely even go into Boston. Cambridge is such a different vibe than Boston, I think.” 28

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DILATE: This album has an awesome, stripped-down sound- I feel like I'm in a cafe watching you, or in your living room- the sound totally suits you. What made you switch up the sound from How To Walk Away to this album? JULIANA: “Thanks. That's the sound that I wanted, the kind of sound where you feel like you're very close to the music, you know, I mean like literally, physically close, like your ear is right up next to the guitar. I like records that sound like that. I wanted to place the listener in my back room where I was recording. I think I was just kind of exhausted from the whole How to Walk Away experience, which was a great experience, but.. it was a long time in the studio, and it was, you know.. coordinating lots of different musicians and travel, and instrumentation arrangements, and it was a lot of work to pull out of me, and I think I wanted to do something that was just simpler, and express something really pure, and without anyone else involved. I wanted to do something calm, and alone, without any stress, and being alone is when I'm most comfortable. I just needed to take a step away from the whole like, big album in a big studio thing.” DILATE: Your music is a fresh break from the overly-digitized sound that dominates the music industry these days. That's why I like to listen to LP's more often than not. JULIANA: “Yeah, well, that's nice to hear. I kinda wish I had tapes to record onto, because it would have sounded that much more acoustic.” DILATE: I'm usually dismissed as stuck in the 90's or a stubborn Generation X'er, but I think mainstream music was better during the 1990's. I feel like good music, whether it was alternative, punk, hip hop, whatever- was way more easily accessible through the mainstream during that time. You've done the indie label thing, and the big name label thing, and you've been in and out of the mainstream- do you feel that the quality of mainstream music has changed since the 90's? 29


JULIANA: “I don't know, I definitely feel that indie music or whatever you called it, was more accessible then—I mean it was literally more accessible! I mean I was being played on mainstream radio then and now I'm not. But I don't know if my music is any better than anything that's being played on the radio now; it's just different, you know? If I played some of those records that were big in the 90's now, I don't think I would enjoy them- a lot of it, I don't think ages very well. But the weird thing is, I don't know, I think there was definitely more of a chance for quirky, independent music to be played in more places back then, not to say that it was better music.” DILATE: What kind of stuff do you listen to? JULIANA: “I don't really listen to stuff in my house, I don't have a stereo, and I don't have an iPod or anything like that, because I think MP3's sound like crap, and I don't like ear buds. I listen to radio when I'm in the car, that's about it- stations that like to play like 70's and 80's music (she chuckles). To be honest with you, I have never listened to 90's music, really. But then again, I never listen to modern music, either. I don't really listen to music anymore, unless it's old.” DILATE: Yeah, music from the 60's, 70's and 80's was great. Something bad happened as time went on with music. JULIANA:”I think the culture just changed so much, and I think something was lost when the culture became digital and computerbased.” DILATE: What about your fans? Do you find that they have stuck by you, have grown with you, and are excited that you are growing together, or do you have fans that want you to be the same way you were when you were 20? JULIANA:•gIf they know me for something in 1992, and that's all they're interested in, they are most likely not fans of me now. If they were fans of maybe one album, that's cool...but then there are the fans who have followed me, and been very loyal, and they have 30

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grown and changed with me. I've heard from people who have never heard of me until How to Walk Away, and that was the first they've heard of me. There's all kinds of different ages in the audience when I play—It's nice, cause I know that people have really been keeping up with me over the years...but then there's also people who only know me for one song, in 1993... which is fine too.” DILATE: My friend Sarah listened to nothing but your music for an entire year. JULIANA: “Oh my god... whoa! She must hate me, she must be so sick of me now.” DILATE: No, she's actually still a huge fan. JULIANA: “That's so funny, that's like when I went on tour with Evan Dando, he put out his first solo album, and I was the bass player on this tour•\and he decided to wear the same outfit the whole tour- not to change clothes or to wash them…” DILATE: Oh my god. JULIANA: “Yeah, he was really dedicated to it, and there was no reason for it. Sometimes you just set goals for yourself... like I can respect Evan for wearing the same clothes for a month, and I can respect your friend for listening to only me for a year. (I laugh) you gotta set goals, you gotta have goals.” DILATE: Is the song “Evan” about Evan Dando? JULIANA: Yes. DILATE: That's a good song- I didn't know if it might have been about another Evan, you never know. JULIANA: “He's the only Evan I know, I think.” DILATE: The song “Let's Go Home” is great. The rhythm evokes the image of driving down the road, driving away—and at the end, you 32

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mention the train, and “bumps in the road”. I love those parallels between the music and the lyrics. Awesome. JULIANA: “I didn't do that deliberately, actually- that's cool that you made that connection.” DILATE: Your songs have always seemed to have a memoir-like quality to them—what is your writing process, what gets the words on the page and brings the music and words together? JULIANA: “When I write a song, I'm usually miserable, or agonizing over something- and writing is my way of dealing with it , it's my way of processing it. It's like my therapy. I'll have this dread or misery boiling up inside of me and that's what inspires me, and then I'll sit down with a guitar, and I'll basically start playing around with chords, and chord progressions, and I'll find melodies, and put them to chord progressions, and then the lyrics come last, usually.” DILATE: I am actually a writer and poet, and I feel that inspiration comes to me pretty easily when I'm in a state of desperation, or when I'm going through some shit. So I totally understand that. JULIANA: “I always thought songwriting was like, well if I ever got my shit together and became happy and well-adjusted I wouldn't need to write songs anymore. When I'm happier, I tend to wanna write prose rather than songs. Hey stop it! Sorry. I'm not telling you to stop. I have a new dog and I'm trying to train him to not chew on things.” DILATE: Ha, no problem. I totally understand. Dogs chewing on things sucks. So, I remember seeing you on an episode of My So-Called Lifegreat show. I was completely ecstatic to see you on my favorite show—how did that happen? JULIANA: “Oh yeah, me too, I forgot about that. I guess at that time, I was more in the public eye, and I guess that show people needed someone. First they asked me to write the song for this homeless character, this girl who was homeless, and I was brought in to talk about writing that song. Then after they met me, I guess they thought that they wanted to offer me the part as well plus the songwriting gig. I guess they thought I had the right vibe to play this homeless angel.” 33


DILATE: Sorry I'm probably the only person who asks you about being on My So-Called Life in like, 1994, huh? JULIANA: “Actually, it was cancelled so quickly, but so many people loved it- people are always asking me about it, actually.” DILATE: Yeah I hear that the reason the network gave for cancelling it was that it was “too real” JULIANA: “Yeah, well that's their reason for cancelling everything. Too much reality- they just can't handle it.” DILATE: ...and yet now, they are salivating over all of these ridiculous reality shows. JULIANA: “That's not really reality, you know? If you've ever been trailed by cameras and microphones and lights, you'd know that it's impossible to be real in that situation—it is completely surreal having cameras and microphones around. It can make you really self conscious and is not a normal way to live. You have to kind of heighten the reality for public consumption. Reality is something that happens away from cameras, I think. But I love reality TV, I watch it sometimes. (I laugh) It's entertaining!” (a little sarcasm in her voice) DILATE: Yeah, I haven't had cable in 7 years, so I don't watch too much of that stuff, with he exception of stuff like Kathy Griffin, My Life on the D List on YouTube or Friends. JULIANA: “Yeah, I don't have [cable] either, but when I have a chance, I watch a reality show here and there. [Kathy Griffin} is pretty funny. I like her stand up. Se says things that other people are afraid to say.” DILATE: So, since you've been a professional musician, what were some concerts that you played or went to that were really great? Just awesome memories and great experiences. JULIANA: “It was really great touring with Jeff Buckley in..I think it was like '95 or '96- we did a tour together and it was so great to watch him play every night. He's special, you know? He has a special gift, and it was great to be there every night and see that. Other than 34

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Jeff Buckley...I have such a bad memory, you know? There's just like chunks of my past that disappeared from my memory... I don't know why. I forget everything, really. I just move forward, I don't really look back. I have a terrible, terrible memory.” DILATE: Are you going on tour? JULIANA: “No, I'm not going to tour for this record. I'm kinda burned out on touring the country. I think I've done it enough times. It's too grueling, it takes too much out of me...and the way that I have to tour—it's not comfortable.” DILATE: Oh yeah, having to be on buses all the time and stuff? JULIANA: “No, I can't afford a bus! It's a van- and I just can't do it anymore. I always get sick on tour- it's bad for my health.” DILATE: Well, those are all of my questions. Thank you so much for talking to me today, I really appreciate it! I've been listening to you for 15 years, so this has been really great. JULIANA:”Well thank you for talking to me! Say hi to your readers for me!” Juliana’s new album, Peace and Love, is available in stores as of February 16th, 2010. Her last album, How to Walk Away, was highly acclaimed, and came out in 2008. Her memoir, “When I Grow Up”, was also released to good reviews in 2008.

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Imagination By Alex Wilson Where has it gone? Where has our imagination disappeared to, and why did we let it? Imagination, part of drive as humans, is slowing being destroyed. Who’s to blame for this travesty? Is it our government, or our education system, or even television? No; the ones who can be accredited to this crime is you and me. Today, imagination has become a corporate entity. In the days of our parents and their parents, imagination was a healthy resource in our country. Kids had to imagine something on their own, or they would have to be bored to tears (unless they were working in a coal mine twenty-two hours a day, for just half a cent). We seem to have lost that kind of imagination. The “imagination” of today is comprised of Disney movies that are (a) remakes of classic Disney films, (b) tasteless CGI movies that involve mouthy, talking animals, (c) tween flicks that involve mouthy, talking teen heartthrobs, or (d) an amalgamation of a, b, and c; bland animes that involve some kind of clever marketing tactic involving hundreds of monster cards and/or figurines (Pokémon, anyone?); and books involving vampire romance or some kind of involvement with the occult. What happened to the good stuff? Where’s the cream filling? Now, not all media influenced imagination is inherently evil or corrupting to our imaginations. And reading Dostoevsky to little Johnny at bed time to help him get a firm grasp on reality isn’t great, either. What we need is balance. Turn off the TV for a bit and go outside. Go for a walk. Read a book that isn’t popular or serialized by Hollywood. Your PlayStation 3 won’t miss you if you go play cards with your friends. And, if you’re going to play a role-playing game with your buddies, do it on paper with a 1D20, not in front of a screen. It’s easy! One can only imagine what you would 37 find and where you will go when you use your imagination.


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DILATE, Issue #2