GUTTER MAG ISSUE 5

ISSUE 5 FEBRUARY 2015

Print Editor-At-Large: Janet Katsnelson

Managing Editor: Nina Braca

Design Editor: Kelly Ryan

Assistant Design Editor Victoria Ottomano

Copy Editors: Lauren D’errico Innes Lukic

Writers: Yarra Berger Nina Braca Terence Brosnan Loisa Fenichell Leo Frampton Bruce Hamilton Matthew Danger Lippman RJP Ross Pannebecker Chris Stewart Rosa Sugarman Jack Tomascak Meg Zulch

Illustrators: Nina Braca Jason Fox Emily Grisgby Samantha Knightly Lani Rubin Alyssa Spizzirro

Photographers: Olivia Battell

Cover by: Sam Knightly

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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Welcome back y’all.

For some of you, this is your first spring semester. For others, it’s the last. Most of you are somewhere in-between, like me.

In-between is defined as “situated somewhere between two extremes or recognized categories; intermediate”. First off, aren’t you not supposed to use a part of a word in its definition? You’re also not supposed to speak or write in double negatives so I guess we’re just really out here right now.

Anyways, that definition is speaking volumes to where I’m at.

Very much existing in the in-between. In-between classes, Stood shows, various dramas starring David Duchovny, friendships, dairy, emotions, Gutter Mag meetings (which are now on Tuesdays @ 10 in room 26 of CCN), “final” cigarettes, and so on.

Whether you’re going through a rough patch, killing it, or in-between; it is really important for you to know that you got this.

The universe is really huge and has a big impact on things that no one can control. That’s really scary, but it’s also really great.

The most we can do is try our hardest. If we don’t do well, there is always tomorrow. Remember the part in Salute My Shorts by Rilo Kiley when it goes “we’ve been waiting all year for someone to just say everyone fucks up it’s going to be okay”? Well, hi. I am here. Everyone does fuck up. It’s going to be okay.

Gutter Mag is a non-profit magazine, paid for by the Mandatory Student Activities Fee. Gutter Mag is a forum for campus culture related content.

Any opinions expressed are those of the writers, not those of Gutter Mag, its editors, or the PSGA. We accept submissions but the publication of those submissions is not guaranteed but subject to the discretion of the editors. Send all inquiries to purchaseguttermag@gmail.com

Love,

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TABLE OF CONTENTS MERRY CHRISTMAS, YOU’VE GOT KIDNEY STONES

Bruce Hamilton 5

GILMORE GUYS: A GUIDE TO THE MEN OF STARS HOLLOW AND BEYOND

Nina Braca 6

“WAIT WHAT?!” 73 SONGS YOU DIDN’T REALIZE WERE ABOUT LOVE

Matthew Danger Lippman 9

MUSIC THAT ISN’T MADE BY OLD MEN

Leo Frampton 10

BANGERS TO FALL IN/ BE IN/ FALL OUT OF LOVE TO

Ross Pannebecker 11

TINDER: A LOVE STORY

Chris Stewart 12

MAKING OUT: A PRACTICAL GUIDE

Rosa Sugarman 15

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DRESSING FOR A PARTY GUIDE

Meg Zulch 17

HAPPY VALENCRIMES DAY: NATURAL BORN KILLER’S EMBODIMENT OF LOVE

*CONTENT WARNING: MURDER/ ASSAULT Terence Brosnan 19

THIS SP*T IS IMPORTANT

*CONTENT WARNING: SLURS + SUICIDE Jack Tomascak 21

“FOR KELLY”

RJP 22

COMICS 23

WHEN THERE ARE NO MORE DARK ROOMS

Loisa Fenichell 25

ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 19) You’re feeling pretty confident about this semester. This is a combination of honest ambition, and the fact that your friend happened to give you an especially sweet tarot reading. Trust the cards, trust yourself. Though the universe may work in mysterious ways, you are also it’s mysterious keeper. AKA Prince circa Purple Rain, motorcycle and all.

TAURUS (APRIL 20 - MAY 20) Your Your Your Your Your Your

teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher teacher

is is is is is is

really really really really really really

hot. hot. hot. hot. hot. hot.

Try Try Try Try Try Try

not not not not not not

to to to to to to

think think think think think think

about about about about about about

it. it. it. it. it. it.

GEMINI (MAY 21 - JUNE 20) You realized you weren’t as much of an adult as you thought when you couldn’t resist buying the giant stuffed bear at Toys “R” Us. Was it the biggest they had? Yes. How are you sure? Because you checked.

SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22 - DECEMBER 21) Two women talk shit about you after you use the handicapped stall in the bathroom. Eyebrows raised, under your breath you whisper: “punk for life,” with toilet paper twirled between your fingers.

CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22 - JANUARY 19) Expect glitter. Lots of it.

AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20 - FEBRUARY 18) You began to question your choices after your best friend turned to you to ask, “how are you supposed to dance to 7/11?”

PISCES (FEBRUARY 19 - MARCH 20) Your latest art piece involves several f’real milkshakes.

Damn. You are so getting that internship.

by Yarra Berger

CANCER (JUNE 21 - JULY 22) Nobody likes your girlfriend, but nobody wants to tell you.

It’s kind of like having a bad haircut: if it makes you feel good, nobody’s complaining - we just can’t wait until you get rid of it.

LEO (JULY 23 - AUGUST 22) A woman took her pomeranian into the bathroom at the airport, and it had it’s own stall. You became overwhelmed with jealousy. In an attempt to pacify yourself, you only listened to One Direction on repeat the entire flight back. You’re still trying to figure it all out.

VIRGO (AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 22) Truth be told, you don’t really understand vinyl. This is also coupled with the ever crippling fear that someone will find out.

LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23 - OCTOBER 22) “I was up at 3 AM, what do you expect!” is something you should expect to hear yourself say a lot of this month, particularly while shoving strawberry greek yogurt into your mouth. While you may pretend to be a wreck, both the universe and your roommate know that you love this shit. Strawberry yogurt and all.

SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23 - NOVEMBER 21)

Don’t be afraid to get a little saucy this month, Scorpio! A whirlwind of sexual energy is heading your way. To make sure you make the best of this opportunity, just do what you momma told you. Use your wings and tail to collect these baes, transferring them to your mouth so that you may enjoy what you have gathered as you fly away.

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MERRY CHRISTMAS, YOU’VE GOT KIDNEY STONES

by Bruce Hamilton

I’m waiting for my prescriptions to be filled in this CVS and I’m thinking of my father and roommate. In one hand, I have a bag of peanut butter-filled pretzels, a snack my father would have bought, and in the other a Honey Bun, a snack my roommate would have shoplifted. I’m planted firmly in a standard blue pharmacy chair, moving only when I can’t stop the kidney stone-induced squirming. The doctor said the pills will be ready in 15 or 20 minutes, and for some reason, I believe him.

An hour ago, I dreamt of a fight I was losing. My opponent kept kicking my kidneys, an area my arms couldn’t reach. I woke up in pain. I put on yesterday’s pants and took tomorrow’s money out of the ATM, all in preparation for today, which is difficult to anticipate with a week’s worth of eye gunk obstructing my view.

Nine hours ago, I left the best party I’ve ever been invited to. You couldn’t tell finals were approaching; the holiday cheer was alive and in full swing: baked goods, Santa hats, eggnog-flavored whiskey.

Eleven hours ago, I returned from the hospital. I found somebody’s hospital bracelet on the ground outside my dorm building. It looked like a chewed version of the one on my wrist. Someone else was recently freed, I thought. I hope they’re having a good time.

Twelve hours ago, I was on the way back from the hospital in my friend’s light blue Volvo. She asked if I could give her the kidney stone when I finally piss the thing out. I said maybe. My roommate, riding shotgun, grimaced.

Fourteen hours ago, the three of us walked into the emergency wing. “My name’s Bruce Hamilton,” I whimpered, “and I think I have kidney stones.” The receptionist told me to type my name on the keyboard nailed to my side of the counter. The brand of the keyboard was something like “HumanBoard” or “HumanSkin.” It was bendy. It made me think about nihilism for a split second. I obliged. “H-A-M-I-L…” My friends had found seats near the back of the waiting room. Our combined ages totaled the age of the fourth youngest person in the room. The elderly glanced occasionally at our end of the room to watch me cross and uncross my legs, fiddle with my wallet, and rub my eyes. Dad was right: “You’re gonna feel like you need to just be doing something.” All of us were wearing black. “They probably think you’re tweaking,” my friend whispered.

After thirty minutes of idle waiting room chit-chat, I puked up a soupy mixture of bottled water and chewed hamburger. A hospital worker gave me a bucket so I wouldn’t have to use the trash can next to the front door. When the bathroom became vacant, I put away my bucket and used the toilet instead.

Pat Sajak’s commands blaring over the waiting room television attempted to drown out my prayers to the porcelain god. My friends were worried. The waiting room is calm for all the wrong reasons.

Ten eternities later, the secretary announces that I am ready to be seen. Still very much in pain, I am asked questions about my date-of-birth and emergency contacts and alcohol consumption habits and at some point, we’re interrupted by another hospital official: “Did you send the Hamilton kid up yet?”

The question-asking doctor is thoroughly embarrassed. “Uh, no, this is him,” gesturing to me, squirming at her left. It’s made clear that I should have been seen a few eternities ago. The squirming intensifies.

I am ushered to the second floor, where my arm is injected with Ketorolac. “If you’re sure those are kidney stones that are killin’ ya,” the nurse says, “then that’ll knock the pain right out.” Sure enough, the pain subsides within minutes.

They want to do a scan. As my kidneys are being examined, I imagine that I need to be rebuilt. I am a veteran of the Thirty Year Space War, a feared mercenary, and in dire need of a bionic leg. “Your scan is complete. We can rebuild it,” says the doctor, robotically.

In one hour, I will be out of this CVS and back in my dorm room, prescriptions in hand. I will have the rest of the day to read and write and nap.

In five hours, the pain will come back, but I’ll have medicine to eliminate it.

In twenty years, I’ll get kidney stones for the tenth time. It will hurt just as bad as it does now, but we’ll have even better medicine by then.

In forty-five minutes, I’ll be in the car, on the way back to my dorm room.

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GILMORE GUYS: A GUIDE TO THE MEN OF STARS HOLLOW AND BEYOND

by Nina Braca

Back in 9th grade, when my sister and I dished out $150 for the Gilmore Girls complete series on DVD, we had no idea the effect the show would have on us. Rory is literally the reason I became a journalism major and starting drinking coffee. I hadn’t touched the boxed set in years, but recently, the quick talking ladies of Stars Hollow were immortalized in the world of online streaming, where everyone would bask in the glory that was Lorelai and Rory. The only thing more interesting than their relationship was Rory’s relationships throughout the course of the show. I spent most of my winter break analyzing, researching and staying up until 4 am to compile this list of the men of Rory’s life. Enjoy this. There will be spoilers. Try to tolerate Dean. Try not to cry when Jess leaves. Spoiler: she should have married Jess.

DEAN: Okay so like Dean is ~whatever~ but has major control issues (honestly, he’s kind of a baby).

During some early episodes, he is bearable because he has nobody to be compared too. He was Rory’s first real boyfriend and did a decent job at it in the beginning. But then when Jess strolls in and becomes the star of the show, you kinda have no choice but to get angry every time Dean appears. He gets possessive and weird and come season 5 is just a bearded jerk. Just when you think he’s off the show, he comes crawling back. He and Rory finally break up for good once he realizes that he holds her back from her true potential (to rule the world).

Most Notable Episode: 1x9, “Rory’s Dance”

JESS: ‘Fan favorite’ leather jacket-wearing Jess Mariano appeared for the first time in season 2 when he moved to Stars Hollow and began to fuck shit up. He and Rory had a mutual love of Bjork so you knew it was the real deal. He waited as Rory learned that Dean was a jerk and then swooped right in an stole her heart and her books. When he learns he won’t graduate high school at the end of season 3, it puts a strain on their relationship and Jess ends up bailing. He reappears from time to time to raise the hopes of Jess-lovers everywhere, but ultimately moves to Philly and works at an independent publishing company. Sigh.

Most Notable Episode: 2x21, “Lorelai’s Graduation Day”

MARTY: The man that never was. Marty was in love with Rory, but she met him straight out of the Jess era and therefor never got a real chance.

Although she did see him naked that one time.

Most Notable Episode: 4x3, “The Hobbit, the Sofa and Digger Stiles”

LOGAN: Logan is a good runner up to Jess. Obviously nobody can compare to the wonder that is Jess Mariano, but Logan does a solid B+ job. He seems to actually care about Rory, in his weird blonde frat-bro way. He and Rory have a long term (and sometimes long distance) relationship up until the last episode of the show where she declines his proposal and ends the series single and beginning a new career. You go girl.

Most Notable Episode: 5x7, “You Jump, I Jump, Jack”

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“WAIT, WHAT?!” 73 SONGS YOU DIDN’T REALIZE WERE ABOUT LOVE!

by Matthew Danger Lippman

O, the love song - that timeless mode of songcraft

devoted to the feeling of passion shared between people or, just as often, unrequited. The approach of Valentine’s Day will see countless people craft playlists to suit the mood, whether dancing with their lover to the strains of Marvin Gaye, or miring themselves in solemnity to the beat of the Smiths. But while there are many timeless love song standards - the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows,” “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, “I’m ‘n Luv (wit A Stripper)” by T-Pain featuring Mike Jones - there are countless, less obvious examples of love songs strewn throughout the library of any discerning music listener. In fact, some of those songs require close examination to uncover their hidden meanings.

Check out this list of 73 hit songs you didn’t realize were about love. Maybe you can impress that crush of yours with some of these choices!

1.THE BEATLES

Song: “All You Need is Love” I know what you’re thinking: “what is that John Lennon going on about?” Believe it or not, this song isn’t just another one of the Beatles’ goofy lysergic romps.

In fact, upon closer examination, that crazy fool had a concrete topic in mind for the track: you guessed it, he’s talking about love! Between lines about “nothing you can sing that can’t be sung,” “nothing you can make that can’t be made,” and “nothing you can eat that can’t be eaten,” the Beatle weaves an intricate tapestry of romantic references into the lyrics. That’s right, that famous refrain - “all you need is love / all you need is love / all you need is love, love / love is all you need” - is referring to love! Adorable!

2. BEYONCE FEAT. JAY Z

Song: “Drunk in Love” Queen Bey: singer, dancer, actress extraordinaire.

But did you know she also crafted love songs?

Though this smash single may seem like nothing more than a R&B ode to surfboards, the diligent listener will be able to pick up on the romantic subtext. In fact, the song acts as a sequel of sorts to Beyonce’s 2003 smash love song “Crazy in Love.”

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In “Drunk” (as in “Crazy”), rapper Shawn Carter plays “Jay Z,” the carpenter neighbor and secret love of Beyonce’s life. The song plays up the confused erotic attraction she has for Jay, with her describing his control over her thoughts - “boy I’m drinking, I’m singing in the mic ‘til my voice hoarse” as she watches him “graining on that wood,” sanding down a table in his house through his window.

Incredible!

3. THE REFRESHMENTS

Song: “Yahoos and Triangles (Theme from King of the Hill)” A couple acoustic guitar strums, and the sampled sound effect of a can of beer being cracked open.

These sounds, utilized in the opening of every episode of Fox animated series King of the Hill, subtly usher in a spellbinding instrumental ode to love and devotion. The secret to understanding this song’s romantic origins lie in noting its composition history: the chord progression, seemingly rooted in American blues, is actually based on Paderewski’s Nocturne in B Flat. The original will register to any classical music fan as a timeless romantic melody. Hank Hill, you softie!

4. DISTURBED

Song: “Down with the Sickness” You ever wonder what the iconic opening scream in Disturbed’s 2000 single “Down with the Sickness” - “ooh wah ah ah ah” - was supposed to signify?

Turns out that scream unlocks the meaning to the entire song. That scream is actually lead singer David Draiman’s imitation of a Gelada mating call!

The Gelada is a species of monkey native to the Simien Mountains of northern Ethiopia. Recognizing Draiman’s spot-on imitation unlocks the hidden meaning of their classic neu-metal song, exposing it as an impressionistic and moving ode to Gelada mating. The wonders of neu-metal!

5-73. MAGNETIC FIELDS

Album: 69 Love Songs (every song on the album) Turns out they’re all about love. Wow!

MUSIC THAT ISN’T MADE

BY OLD MEN

by Leo Frampton

Hi, I’m Leo. Recently I decided to write down my biggest musical inspirations and was kind of disappointed to end up with a list of straight men ( Frank Black, Bob Dylan, Jeff Mangum, Neil Young, Daniel Johnston, also all of these guys are white.)

Because of this, I’ve been lately trying to listen only to artists who don’t not fit my usual (and unfortunate) criteria and it has already been a wonderful experience of discovery and inspiration. Here is a little taste of some non-cismen bands I’ve been enjoying lately. Most of these bands were recommended to me by friends recently via social media.

GIRLPOOL

Album: Girlpool Perfect band right here. With only a guitar and bass, this duo not only have a remarkably full melodic sound but have also managed to write a few bangers (without drums!) With gorgeous harmonies, catchy hooks, and some really satisfying bluesy guitar solos, Girlpool are an easy band to recommend. Some of their melodies remind me a little of Stevie Nicks, Simon and Garfunkel, and the B-52’s (specifically songs without Fred Schneider.)

LAURA NYRO

Song: “And When I Die” Give me my freedom for as long as I be. all I ask of livin’ is to have no chains on me and all I ask of dyin’ is to go naturally. And when I die and when I’m gone there’ll be one child born and a world to carry on.

Here’s a song from the famous and riveting Laura Nyro that might make you feel a little better about being a human. Accompanied by a beautiful horn section , Nyro uses her spectacular charismatic voice to deliver thoughtful and hopeful lyrics.

BIG FREEDIA

Song: “Explode” Big Freedia’s androgynous New Orleans dance hip-hop will hopefully inspire a new legion of similar artists. Freedia’s songs are contagiously catchy and full of infectious repeated nonsense words.

+HIRS+

Album: madonna 3’ 4’ Screeching feedback will occupy the first three seconds of your average HIRS song. Ten seconds of screaming I will never go to prison. I will kill myself first. taking down the bros, and pigs, and any that say homophobic slander. Rainbow moat filled with drowning homophobes, a two second news sample, then back to feedback. The outcome of this is a twenty second song that packs a punch. Madonna 3’ 4’ is both heartbreaking and instantly cathartic.

HOLE

Album: Live Through This Yes, you’ve heard of Courtney Love. I’m putting Hole on here for all the people who have heard Love’s name but not her music. A couple months ago I did not know that Love wrote one of the perfect albums to ever be screamed into a microphone. On Live Through This, Love’s voice is grunge at its most raw and expressive. She will start a song quietly, with little bits of anger being subtly contained in her vocals. Then she lets it go with her signature wail while the band brings their volume up to match the intensity. Gender is a frequent theme on this album.

The idea of “milk” is mentioned multiple times as something created by both men and women.

JANELLE MONAE

Song: “Dance Apocalyptic” Funky rock-star Janelle Monae dances and sings with a power that inspires heartfelt jams from her large backing band. Check out her performance of ‘Dance Apocalyptic’ on the Tonight Show with David Letterman. You know a performer is killing it when David Letterman’s face seems to reflect a slight tinge of actual human enjoyment.

SHAMIR

Song: “On The Regular” I could not find online how Shamir defines his gender or sexual preference (although in his song On The Regular he does point out “yes yes i’m a guy,”) but Shamir has made a commendable effort to make androgyny part of his signature psychedelic hip-hop sound. When describing their vocal styles he says that “countertenor” is the correct term: “It’s not feminine, it’s not masculine. It’s a happy medium ... I feel like if the world was more like that, our problems would be gone.” “On The Regular” starts with a contagious cow-bell hook and only gets better from there with impressive use of electronic production and vocals.

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BANGERS TO FALL IN/BE IN/FALL OUT OF LOVE TO

by Ross Pannebecker

SOME OF THESE SONGS DO NOT LYRICALLY HAVE ANYTHING TO WITH LOVE OR THINGS LIKE THAT. SOME OF THEM DO NOT EVEN HAVE LYRICS. RATHER, ALL THE SONGS ON THIS LIST JUST HAVE “THE AURAL FEEL” OF WHAT LOVE/LOVE LOST “SOUNDS LIKE” “TO ME.” LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL AND GRAND AND TERRIFYING AND STUPID AND AWESOME AND SO ARE THESE SONGS. ENJOY. PANDA BEAR - “COMFY IN NAUTICA” (PERSON PITCH, 2007): THIS SONG IS KINDA LIKE WHEN UR HOLDING HANDS WITH SOMEONE IN THE DEPTHS OF WINTER AND NEITHER OF YOU HAVE GLOVES SO ONLY YOUR PALMS ARE WARM BECAUSE OF EACH OTHER (SYMBOLISM WOW) LIGHTNING BOLT - RAIN ON LAKE I’M SWIMMING IN (EARTHLY DELIGHTS, 2009): OF COURSE I FOUND A WAY TO WORK LB ONTO A LIST OF “LOVE SONGS.” THIS ONE IS DELICATE AND FRAGILE AND KINDA WEIRD BUT IT’S GOOD SO IT WORKS THE KNIFE - HEARTBEATS (THE LIVE VERSION NOT THE STUDIO VERSION [SILENT SHOUT: AN AUDIO-VISUAL EXPERIENCE, 2006]): THIS ONE KINDA SPEAKS FOR ITSELF. THIS IS PROBABLY THE ONLY SONG ON THIS LIST WHERE THE LYRICS HAVE ANY SORT OF RELEVANCE ONEOHTRIX POINT NEVER - CHROME COUNTRY (R + 7, 2013): I REMEMBER ONE TIME IN MY LIFE I HAD JUST ENDED AN ALMOST 2-YEAR RELATIONSHIP AND I WAS STANDING ON TOP OF THIS HILL LOOKING OVER THE FOREST. IT WAS VERY COLD OUT AND I WAS SMOKING A CIGARETTE. I WAS LISTENING TO THIS SONG AND I DROPPED MY CIGARETTE AND I SAID “OH GOD DAMN IT” SALEM - KILLER (KING NIGHT, 2010): THIS ONE KINDA MAKES MORE SENSE IN THE CONTEXT OF THE FULL ALBUM (WHICH IS GREAT AND A BANGER 10/10) BUT BASICALLY: THE TEN SONGS THAT PRECEDE THIS ONE (THIS ONE IS THE CLOSING TRACK) ARE ALL HARSH AND ABRASIVE AND MEAN AND THAT’S NOT TOSAY THAT THIS ONE ISN’T TOO BUT THERE’S A CERTAIN SOFTNESS TO IT AND IDK IT SORT OF REMINDS ME OF THOSE WEIRD DAYS THAT US WEIRD HUMANS HAVE WHERE EVERYTHING SUX AND YOU’RE LIKE :( BUT THEN AT THE END OF IT YOU’RE IN BED AND IT’S 3 AM AND (FOR WHATEVER REASON) YOU REALIZE THAT EVERYTHING IS COOL AND YOU ARE A COOL HUMAN. MAYBE I NEED TO WORK ON THIS ONE A BIT MORE. WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW???

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APHEX TWIN - 4 (RICHARD D. JAMES ALBUM, 1996): AGAIN: OF COURSE I FOUND A WAY TO WORK AN AFX SONG ONTO A LIST OF “LOVE SONGS.” THE ONLY WAY I CAN THINK OF TO DESCRIBE THIS ONE (IT’S 3 AM) IS “SLOW DANCE TO ∞” THE BOOKS - ALL YOU NEED IS A WALL (THE WAY OUT, 2010): I NEVER LOVED A WALL SO MUCH, I NEVER LOVED U SO MUCH (YES U). REALTALK I’VE CRIED TO THIS SONG ONE THOUSAND BILLIONS TIMES AND I’M NOT SURE WHY BUT MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE OF THE GREAT POWER ONE RECIEVES FROM A VERY MODEST SOURCE (YES, U) FUCK BUTTONS - “RACE YOU TO MY BEDROOM/SPIRITS RISE” (STREET HORRRSING, 2008): THIS IS WHAT PLAYS DURING THAT WEIRD MOMENT WHEN YOU’RE PRESSED UP AGAINST THE FLESHY TEMPLE THAT IS YOUR LOVER UNDER A MASS OF BLANKETS AND YOU HAVE THAT AWESOME/SCARY THOUGHT LIKE “FUCK THIS PERSON IS MAYBE KINDA GREAT???”

DAFT PUNK - MAKE LOVE (HUMAN AFTER ALL, 2006): MAKE LOVE BREAK LOVE TAKE LOVE FAKE LOVE. EAT LOVE GREET LOVE MEET LOVE. HIDE LOVE RIDE LOVE. FEEL LOVE. RINSE AND REPEAT FOREVER JON HOPKINS - IMMUNITY (IMMUNITY, 2013): ANOTHER SOFT PILLOW WHITE LIGHT IDONTCARETHATYOURMOUTHSMELLSBADBECAUSEISPENTALLLASTNIGHTSMOOCHINGYOU SONG, ANOTHER SONG TO WAKE UP TO SIGUR ROS - NJOSNAVELIN (THE ALBUM IS LITERALLY CALLED “( )” 2002): “I TRAVEL THROUGH LIGHT, I AM NOT AFRAID, IN THIS LAKE OF SOULS I LOSE ALL FEAR” ANIMAL COLLECTIVE - MOUTH WOOED HER (SUNG TONGS, 2004): SLEEPY SUNDAY MORNING WAKING UP IN THE JANUARY FROST IN THE ARMS OF ANOTHER SCARED HUMAN. HOW DID YOU GET HERE? HOW DID I GET HERE? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE? LET ME TAKE YOU OUT TO BREAKFAST LIARS - THE OTHER SIDE OF MT. HEART ATTACK (DRUMS NOT DEAD, 2006): (“I WON’T RUN FAR”) THIS SONG IS THE GREATEST LOVE SONG OF ALL TIME (“IF YOU NEED ME”) THIS IS THE GREATEST NOTLOVE SONG OF ALL TIME (“IF YOU WANT ME TO STAY, I WILL STAY BY YOUR SIDE”) THIS SONG CAPTURES EVERY FEELING YOU COULD POSSIBLY HAVE ABOUT SOMEONE BEFORE/DURING/AFTER BEING IN LOVE WITH THEM (“I CAN ALWAYS BE FOUND”) IN THIS WRITER’S OPINION. BUT WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW???

TINDER: A LOVE STORY

by Chris Stewart

When I was 17, I was fortunate enough to fall in love

for the first time. When I was 18, I was still happily in love and content with the idea of marrying the boy I was dating. When I was 19, we broke up. It was sudden and left me with a whirlwind of emotions that I spent many nights meditating on, writing about, and crying over. When I was 19, I got high and downloaded Tinder.

For those of you possibly living under a rock and have not a clue what Tinder is; Tinder is one of many popular dating applications for smart phones. Tinder allows you to swipe right for those you find attractive, and swipe left for those you find unappealing. Upon its launch, Tinder came under much criticism. Many critics poked at its superficial basis, judging someone solely based on their looks, as the dating-capstone on an already social media driven and superficial society.

While Tinder does offer its users to supply their name, age and a brief biography of themselves, Tinder, unlike other dating apps and sites, does not offer a wide selection of interests one could mark-off to ultimately match with another user who has said similar interests. Tinder is based solely on looks; whether you find this person to be attractive or not.

Many have used tinder in a non-serious manner, but to many others it is a useful dating tool. A good friend, who I will call Pat for secure identity, was cruising Tinder and matching on the daily, too. Pat and I often engaged in shared feelings about Tinder. Was it our guilty pleasure? Was it our greatest confidence boost?

Why is this app so much fun? Were we obsessed or too curious as to what this phantom world of dating had in store for us?

Pat would later go on to take the ultimate step the Tinder realm and went out on a date. Though the initial date did not turn into another, Pat accepted a date and solidified my feelings of doubt.

I had doubted that this app would truly ever come of something of substance. I half-believed people used this seriously. From finding and falling in love so casually, to virtual speed dating, I felt bewildered to believe people chose to find love on Tinder. However, with Pat’s date, I found comfort in the fact that people of all ages (18+ of course) were using Tinder as a casual dating generator. The more I thought about the app, the more normal it seemed. I came to the conclusion that browsing on Tinder was practically the same thing

as glancing at everyone in a bar. Tinder was casual.

Much of my winter recess was spent swiping left and right, matching with boys I would never meet and 85% of the time never speak too. Conversations consisted of me asking if one of them owned a horse, or someone expressing a mutual shared love of breakfast food.

I would spend my mornings eating the first meal of the day, watching Twin Peaks and waiting for it to be one o’clock (a time I found to be morally appropriate to cruise the day’s Tinder batch). I wouldn’t allow myself to open the app before bed, for a personal fear of catching myself feeling excited that I had matched with another cute guy. I needed my melatonin levels to stay high, and serotonin down. Matching with strangers would have me too excited.

As the days droned on I cared less, I began to swipe right for people I found semi-attractive regardless of our shared interests. I began to use Tinder just for the sole purpose of matching. There was a rush that came with “It’s A Match!” appearing on my screen.

I felt elated, attractive, wanted. I began to seek the instant gratification in an app and began to chat with men I knew I would never meet. I went through good days and bad days with the app. Some days filled with several matches, but most filled with none. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. I was in a relationship with Tinder. In silence and solace, I began to try and rationalize my feelings for Tinder. I thought: it’s okay, you’re single now Chris, this is just a new walk of life you have yet to experience and also never thought you were going to experience, enjoy it! Some days I put too much emphasis on the dating app, other days I told myself I was silly to actually ridicule myself over something so harmless. Most prevalent in my mind, though, was the fact that I felt that Tinder was the fullest and most gratification I had received since actually fucking someone.

Spring semester was just about to begin and just like practically everything else, I had grown tired of Tinder.

My iPhone-app-boyfriend and I were splitting up. I had exhausted and abused our relationship and as they say, too much of anything is never good.

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GUT LUV

TTER TER VS U

“MAKING OUT”: A PRACTICAL GUIDE

by Rosa Sugarman

Several planetary cycles ago in a routine check of the milky way nature preserve, my ship’s gravitational pull moderators malfunctioned and I crash landed on a mid-sized planet made up of mostly minerals and water: Earth. I wasn’t sure how long I would be stranded before being rescued and returned to the great Zygnica, so I morphed into the shape of a human being (the planet’s dominant species). Zignanians, I could publish millions of laser scrolls about my experiences living with this fascinating and strange species, but today I wish to talk about one of the more sacred of the peculiar habits of the humanoids. This is a guide for the average Zignanian on how to “Make out,” so find a friend and follow the steps below to greater understand our neighbors in the galaxy next door.

Step 1: Sit next to your partner facing each other.

It is very important to sit very close to each other.

Make sure your limbs are touching. To let your partner know your intentions you must play what I like to call “The Eye Contest of Love.” Look at each other’s eyeballs. Get a really good look. If you stop examining your partners optical organ, they might think you aren’t interested in making out. Optional: say your partner’s optical organs are beautiful.

Step 2: For a more romantic time, a human might pet the dead proteins that hang off the top of the other human’s head. Zignanians, you can pet each other’s outer skull caps for a similar effect.

Don’t overdo it. I would recommend a maximum of five seconds of petting before moving on to the next step.

Step 3: This step is the most imperative to a successful make out. The humans have a hole on the front of their heads that they call a “mouth.”

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They use this mouth to communicate and take in energy. Sound familiar? That’s right! It’s like a wet and more padded version of our glitter holes! Yes, it’s true that the glitter hole is on the front of the abdomen and absorbs energy through photosynthesis while the mouth takes in energy by grinding and squishing living things, but the purpose remains the same, so this step should have a relatively similar effect. Press your torsos together, aligning at the glitter hole. While the humans use wet mouth extensions to push fluids back in forth between partners I would recommend swaying your chests back and forth to share some glitter!

It may sound unsanitary to us but I assure you, for the human it is exhilarating!

Step 4: After step three you have successfully started making out, but there are more optional tricks to improve the practice. Remember how I said you should touch each other’s limbs? At this step you can move your limbs even more! Use your bodily extensions to explore the more central parts of your partners body. Though the humans enjoy squishing each others flesh (as it is soft), I would recommend feeling the individual shape and texture of each other’s scales. Always make sure your partner is okay with which scales you are examining. There is no predictable end to making out. When you and your partner feel you have adequately exchanged glitter and examined scales feel free to move on to other activities.

Do you feel like a human yet? Interestingly enough the humans consider it taboo to practice making out with members of other species, so while you may never make out with a human, this Zygnanian guide should bring you and your partner an almost perfect earthling experience.

JASON FOX 16

DRESSING FOR A PARTY GUIDE

by Meg Zulch

It’s the beginning of the new semester, a time when we are reminded that there’s a world outside of our dark bedroom, beyond the warm glow of Netflix on your Mac screen. It’s the return of new classes, old responsibilities, and most importantly, the weekends. Parties can be fun, stressful, sexy, and weird. Every weekend is different, and the success of these weekend parties are affected by so many factors: personal mood, people present, music played, substances consumed. But the key to the perfect weekend, I believe, lies in The Outfit. A kick-ass party outfit is crucial, and if you don’t already have one, here’s a guide to picking one out:

FEEL OUT YOUR MOOD If I’m feeling social, and perhaps looking to hook up, I opt to wear whatever makes me feel the sexiest, while also being something that’s relatively easy to take off. My leopard miniskirt that I bought for a dollar at Zine Feast last year, covers both bases for me. I also feel hella sexy in my sequined teal dress from H&M. It’s tight and super sexy, but is almost impossible to take off.

Who’s up for the challenge, am I right???

When I’m feeling a bit off my game but still wanna mingle, I wear whatever makes me feel like a bad bitch. Dark lipstick is always my go-to.

No matter what I’m wearing or how I’m feeling, it makes me feel like I can conquer the world. It also helps to wear something you’re familiar with, and not a totally brand new outfit. So my signature Doc Martens are a must. They’re the shoes I wear the most, and are super comfortable and versatile.

If I feel like drinking a ton and aggressively dancing to Robyn, I’d wear something my pits can breathe in and something I don’t mind spilling a drink or two on. This doesn’t mean wear your rattiest T-shirt that you still haven’t gotten around

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to washing this month. Rather, wear something cotton instead of leather or velvet. Not only is it more breathable, but cotton is easily cleaned and less likely to be ruined by a generous splash of Fireball and soda.

BE PREPARED My mom bought me this cute “survival kit” for Christmas that included things like a sewing kit, band-aids and clear nail polish. Realistically I wouldn’t use most of the items inside the tiny sparkly satchel, but it inspired me to start carrying around a little survival kit of my own making to parties. Put one together and stuff it in something compact—because you never know what the night brings. I’d recommend packing lipstick for reapplication post-eating/drinking/kissing, Advil (to stop that hangover in its tracks), blotting papers (because sometimes that party makeup can make you shine in ways that aren’t flattering), condoms (for the unexpected rendezvous), and hair ties (to stop your hair from impeding your sweet dance moves).

A small sewing kit, while it seemingly excessive, is kind of a genius thing to carry around. The straps of my absolute favorite (and at the time, brand new) bra were torn during a particularly aggressive night of partying, and I was uncomfortable for the rest of the night with zero support and the bra constantly slipping around my chest.

A sewing kit would’ve been greatly appreciated.

Investing in makeup that stands up to the sweat is also very worth it. Waterproof mascara, as opposed to its ordinary counterpart, actually makes a huge difference and really won’t run or budge no matter how hard you dance. Mine has even stayed intact during my obligatory drunken sob fests.

THE DETAILS Jackets are very important to me, as you’d be able to tell from my growing and varied collection.

All my jackets are pretty wild in terms of print and material, so they add a pop of pizazz to my multitude of black outfits.

I personally never carry a purse because I think they’re a nuisance to my socializing and dancing.

When they are not a crucial part of the outfit, I wear jackets simply for their pockets. I’m so opposed to purses, I’ll wear a jacket to a summer party for the sole purpose of the pockets. However, I have some dresses that have pockets built into the front of them, which gives me a lot more options outfit-wise.

At all costs, protect the jacket! I usually try not to take mine off at parties, especially if it’s super cute or super new. If it’s a party that’s truly hoppin’ and you don’t know many of the people there, I would advise not throwing your coat into the pile.

I’ve had many a garment have wine spilled on it this way, and have also had a jacket “disappear.”

Accessories are important complements to every outfit, and vary based on person and preference. Comfortable shoes are a must for me to facilitate unhindered grooving. But if, for some reason, I want to show off a new pair of not so comfortable shoes, I’ll wear cute socks like my tiger socks or my weed socks in case I need to take them off over the course of the night. I’ve also found cute lighters to be a great accessory for party-going and in general. Whenever I’m in the city, I go to Search and Destroy and stock up on very cute (and slightly more expensive) lighters. I have a leopard print one, a pop art one, and an eyeballs one—they’re great conversation starters and perfect for breaking the ice with any cutie looking to light their cigarette.

Most importantly, you need an attitude to match your look. Be strong, confident, and ready to annihilate any fucker in your path. Because, as my best friend puts it, “you are hot and can demand any gender to love you.”

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HAPPY VALENCRIMES DAY: NATURAL BORN KILLER’S EMBODIMENT OF LOVE *CONTENT WARNING: MURDER/ASSAULT

by Terence Brosnan I am in a happy 2-year relationship right now with my best friend; so don’t jump to conclusions about this seemingly cynical article. Oliver Stone’s 1994 film Natural Born Killers is a movie that has stuck with me personally, and aggressively, since I first saw it. And since that pre-pubescent me saw the film, I have changed a lot. The movie, however, continues to be something that is unmatched in cinema, with it’s change of colors that puts the average moviegoer’s awareness of Tarantino’s brief changes between black and white with color to shame. Stone perfectly syncs this dark tale with arguably the most aggressive editing in a mainstream film. Combined with countless stylistic elements that would take too long to list, the movie becomes something else entirely that affects the viewer as a true emotion would.

As I am now in a loving relationship, the film’s editing is imperative to the theme of pure love.

Cutting brutal images of dying animals, decapitated bodies, and more grotesque imagery with almost each scene, Stone is showing us how our brains take more time with these momentary images than the contrasting shot. Also shown is the urge to kill that overwhelms the two murderers, an urge that isn’t far off from the urge to love (and lust). In terms of love, people’s minds and bodies are taken over by their significant other, flashing memories and qualities of the other person when you think about them, similar to the edits of the film.

Often people compare love to a drug, maybe that’s only Bon Jovi, but there is something to be said about that. Mirroring the editing of the film, images and memories take over and impress the lover’s mind with their past experiences and their desires/urges, making them happy or sad

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depending on the person. So even though the film has images of death and murder, the style of it has to be acknowledged as a companion to the effects of love, which is a pretty powerful idea.

That was a bit of a stretch maybe, but there is something to learn from Mickey and Mallory’s love for each other. First thing to learn: reception. Media and pop culture is the main target of Stone’s satirical film, showing the followers and fans of the mass murderers. Clearly there is a toxic and lethal power of fandom, given to the wrong hands in Mickey and Mallory’s case. Even though they are in the limelight for a large chunk of the film, they love each other in solitude, with their letters to each other, and their early undying love. In today’s now social media world, relationships are put through the difficulty of dealing with jealousy, but more importantly with their combined image on various platforms. People see couples together and like people for seemingly no reason other than they’re a couple (café couple from Yik Yak, anyone?)

This is where Mickey and Mallory’s involvement in media becomes completely relevant to love.

They eat it up. They love being in the limelight and in the center of the world’s attention, leaving one person to tell the tale each time and communicating with the media at every chance they can. This is their equivalent to the early honeymoon stage of today’s Facebook world, posting pictures and love notes and so on. It is not until the finale that they literally and figuratively walk away from the camera, that they can truly be together. People were not obsessed with Mickey and Mallory as much as the idea of them, and the idea of popularity for even them.

Quentin Tarantino’s script of the film includes a scene in which two victims of Mickey and Mallory are left paralyzed and are being interviewed by Wayne Gale. The two talk about how lucky they were to be victims of this crime because now they understand “the primal laws” of the world that Mickey and Mallory live by. Here, the couple’s fame does not infatuate these men, just what

what they represent. People are shown a truth, something that fascinates them, and they cling to it. Not so different, when people see a couple that is in love, they want to cling to that. Obviously not everyone does this, but older couples can see themselves in a new couple’s love, a more lonely person can see hope and so on. Stone’s film shows that people will cling to anything in the media, but even with this attachment, there is no true connection, it is merely a shallow idea of what’s going on.

Mickey and Mallory end up murdering Wayne Gale, their largest connection to their media extravaganza, leaving the camera rolling to capture this last kill, and the two simply walk away and vow to not kill again. Whether or not this vow lasts is insignificant, it’s their love that is the important element, and suddenly, within a few cuts the end credits begin and show Mickey and Mallory with a few kids. They have been so far from any cameras or people that the film itself cannot even keep up, yet the transition from murder to family suggests that their love has remained and has been internalized into the two of them, rather than the world. It’s the classic sitcom tragedy, “my younger brother got married before me? Now what?” flipped around, Mickey and Mallory stopped caring about the world and that’s when true love happens.

Mickey and Mallory have some trouble being faithful, but their connection to their carnal instincts saves them. One hostage of the duo is held up in their motel room as Mickey taunts the woman and begins to rape her. Stone turns his attention to the angry Mallory as she leaves the motel room to flirt with a man at a gas station, killing him in the process. Later, in the same room, Scagnetti hires a prostitute and kills the woman, though he has a wife and family. Although Mickey and Mallory are sexually with other “partners,” it is not a downfall, but it quite literally saves them.

This goes back to their killer instinct, giving in to everyone’s animalistic and carnal urges, where pleasure comes from killing and sex, no matter

who it is with. It is with their shared view about their instincts and knowing that the other still loves them that they two can walk away from the world and create a family. Where Scagnetti has sex with a prostitute, it has a sense of secrecy as his wife doesn’t know, and isn’t even seen, making this act purely lust. So even with explicit sex, Mickey and Mallory’s love only grows and is about a whole new level of understanding.

So with compromise, forgiveness, understanding, a removal from the spotlight and more, Mickey and Mallory can show us all a thing or two about love. With a few of my own experiences of love, with memories and images popping into my head sporadically, and dealing with the throws of social media today, I can relate to this pure love (except the lusting instinct of course [and just for the record I’ve never killed anyone either]) that is represented through Mickey and Mallory Knox.

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THIS SP*T IS IMPORTANT CRUSH, BY DAVE MATTHEWS BAND *CONTENT WARNING: SLURS + SUICIDE

by Jack Tomascak I met Olivia at kindergarten orientation and I immediately relayed to my parents that she was “the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen.” She lived up the street. My mom and I went for a walk one day up to the nursery school that I was always jealous of my brother for going to because there was a small play-house on the playscape behind it that had handprints of people I knew from the bus or my class or otherwise. One day when walking up the street Olivia’s mom (of Olivia’s famous “I WANT MY MOMMY!” cries during class) drove up next to us in her minivan. My mom and I asked her where Olivia was and if she was around for a play date soon. Her mom responded, “Well, she’s with one of her girlfriends right now.” Through her mother’s choice of wording I was disappointed to find out that Olivia wasn’t into boys. We did have that play date though. I really don’t remember much about it. Her birthday party was pretty good that year, though. She invited our retiring kindergarten teacher and had a pretty good vanilla cake.

In first grade I was really into Kelly. Kelly wasn’t into me. I knew a lot about her, or learned a lot about her rather. I found a drawing and writing assignment from that time a few years ago. The premise was one where I took her to see a private performance of Riverdance and we watched it together. I submitted documentation of unrequited love to a teacher for grading. I think we had to present these too. Honestly, I winced while typing that whole thing. I ALSO had a crush on Merrill, my 9 year old “bus buddy.” My parents had to have a dialogue with my teacher via notes about that one (THIS WAS BEFORE EMAIL!) I really don’t remember much about it but it was apparently a really big deal. I just wanted a cool older friend who kissed me.

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Second grade I had a girlfriend for a few days. Her name was Charlene. She got her card changed pretty frequently. I gave her my phone number and her mom didn’t let her call me. On “Pin and Button Day” she wore her mother’s denim jacket covered in pins and buttons. The only one I remember was Duran Duran. I’m sure the others were relatively “alt” or “punk” as well. After we broke up, I got interested in Jenny who certainly didn’t like me back. Katelyn embarrassed me at Jenny’s birthday party at Berlin Bowl when she told me to “touch the sky” only to tickle my armpit, sending my arm down in a flash of discomfort, knocking a cup of soda onto my pants into my crotch area. I cried when she wouldn’t hug me.

Two years ago or so my parents were talking with her mom (my brother and her brother are pals.)

They got to talking about the kids when they were younger. “I remember Jack used to stalk Jenny!” she remarked, as my parents told me.

In third grade, I dreamt of Emma Watson sweeping me off my feet. I also dreamt of Kathryn from Irish dance class smooching me in a routine where we had to be nose to nose - I felt myself blushing and saw her laughing and tilting her face down a bit as we skipped backwards away from each other. And then I kinda tapped out of “romance” until middle school.

It bears mentioning that YES INDEED, I’m nearing the 10 year anniversary of me discovering that I was gay a little bit. Throughout middle school, I wanted to fuck most of the boys on my lacrosse team. I wanted Tyler to break up with his girlfriend.

He sat behind me in geography class. I wanted to lay my head down on the top of the chair onto his desk for him to run his fingers through my hair while neck-deep in a lecture about “place”.

A few friends and I used to go hang out in a very clean and somewhat secret bathroom called “the Cave” during passing time. I wanted to cuddle him naked in the Cave. I rode on the bus to away wrestling meets as a Service Photography Club rep to take pictures of his butt.

I got a MySpace at the end of 2007 and started to interact with more of the boys that I thought were interesting. They were overwhelmingly straight. I wanted to turn them in my direction. After I was outed, my bisexuality (at the time) scared them and made them want to keep their distance. News of an openly non-straight person was heard all the way up to the high school, for whatever fucking reason. After I would leave picture comments on their pictures I would get responses like “don’t talk to me becuz ur a fag and i don’t like fags and i especcially don’t like them trying to pic me up!!!!! so get out of here”, or “u have so many issues...faggitness...anger management... and most of all YOUR GAY!!!” I disrupted the flow but it pushed me inward to internet communities that better understood. It pushed me inside. I did not love myself despite the subversion that I have now embraced. My tangible community did not have anything. The computer did, and the communities inside of them. I loved my discussion group of Ridley Pearson books and my Twilight coven, and my VMK Ohana. I thought I was in love with Anna, but it just turned out that I had never experienced true friendship, or best friendship.

I have a marriage pact with Liz that we agreed upon when I was 16 and we were both suicidal.

If we’re not married by 40 then we’re going to get married, we said. I know I don’t want to die anymore, but I don’t think I really want to get married anymore though.

Being queer and being aware has made me find love in other places. It touches on my relationships with others, regardless of gender or non-gender. I found love in myself. I found love in friendships predicated upon support, upon aid.

I found love in pouring my all into art. I can only hope that this bleeds through my being as often as possible.

I can only hope that I can pour as much into another person.

“FOR KELLY” by: rjp

i remember asking if she’d be home by christmas that seems naïve and stupid now now i ask if she will be home by summer maybe that will seem naïve and stupid later /// do not speak to her like a child or a dog she is not a child or a dog she is my mother /// it has been almost three months since i heard her voice i hope i do not forget what it sounds like /// the last thing i said to her was: “i’ll talk to you tomorrow” i never got the chance

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LANI RUBIN

ALYSSA SPIZZIRRO

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EMILY GRIGSBY 24

WHEN THERE ARE NO MORE DARK ROOMS

by Loisa Fenichell 1. when the moon disappeared we were on a cliff & your mouth was earthy with childhood backyard (3 years old, knees scraped, knees bloody). your mouth looks fullest when covered in dirt, stained like the t-shirt of yours I wore the night I didn’t know I’d get my period but did anyway. there are days when I still have nightmares about doctors’ waiting rooms: a child coughing & another dying lungs & another scratching his mosquito bites.

I used to scratch my mosquito bites as though they were the ears of dogs (the first dog dies run over by the car of a woman like my grandmother, now dead with wrinkles). there are still bites tracking my body like pairs of hooves, your teeth angling against my neck & collarbones, your teeth yellow because of all of the blood from my body. I’ve lost the most blood from: mosquito bites; (periods); (your teeth).

2. a church stands alone in a desert. the church likes best to try & drown itself in the sand that gets stuck in your throat & in your eyes, your eyes bitter with no more street lamp.

3. this is not ny. the first boy sits on the subway like one of my grandmother’s postcards. the second boy seems like a large long killing. your eyes are blank, are sleeping next to a girl with longer hair.

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