GUTTER MAG ISSUE 2

ISSUE 2 OCTOBER 2014

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: Abby Adams Yarra Berger Nina Braca Matia Emsellem Rachel Gill Bruce Hamilton Gordon Hinchen Stephanie Knipe Max Mahler Read More Tyler Resigno Ross Pannebecker Alyssa Spizzirro Chris Stewart Gen Tanaka Jack Tomascak

Illustrators: Yarra Berger Nina Braca Victoria Ottomano Lani Rubin Alyssa Spizzirro

Photographers: Abby Adams Olivia Battell Rachel Gill Skyler Maggiore

Cover by: Marissa Lopez

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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR All I know is that Kong is At the Gates. We are now in the Forbidden Zone. Lost In Space. From Dust to Dust, I see the Crawling Eye and I hope that you do too. There’s a Witch Hunt going on.

Scream. It’s Saturday Night, and somehow we’re still alive. Pumpkinhead is near. The Scarecrow Man knows and I’m okay with it.

Die Monster! Die. Twice because I really like that one. Living Hell in real life. There’s the Descending Angel and then there’s Them.

Fiend Club, on repeat because it’s my actual favorite. Hunting Humans and Helena. No, not that Helena. Kong has been Unleashed.

Mercury is in retrograde. It’s Halloween. Everything is weird. Did you know that half of the semester is over? That’s messed up.

I’m getting better at knowing what day it is but the concept of time is still very foreign to me. But here we are. Issue #2 is ready.

Sam told me to start wearing a scarf and my grandparents are concerned about my clothes being warm enough. Is anyone else dropping a class? Thinking about dropping out? Trying to turn into a cat? Want to work for Gutter Mag? Hit me up.

Love,

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

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TABLE OF CONTENTS WHY WE CAN’T BOOK CHILDISH GAMBINO: PSGA PROGRAMMING AND EVENTS BREAKDOWN

Jack Tomascak 5

ROSS YELLING AT YOU ABOUT MUSIC: SPOOKY EDITION

Ross Pannebecker 31

SPACE IS THE PLACE

CRAZY IS A WORD

Gen Tanaka 38

HORRORCORE HISTORY

COMICS

Matia Emsellem 10 Tyler Rescigno 13

MODES OF SURVIVAL*

Stephanie Knipe 17

SOUND BITES

Abby Adams 19

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LUCID FALLACIES

Gordon Hinchen 41

BACK PAGE

Student Submissions 42

DON’T WATCH THESE ALONE

Chris Stewart 25

TOP 26 REASONS I HATE HALLOWEEN

Bruce Hamilton 27

* TRIGGER WARNING: EMOTIONAL ABUSE

NINA BRACA

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HORRORSCOPES

by Yarra Berger

ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 19)

LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23 - OCTOBER 22) Buy a crop top, rock it. An art major will most likely thank you for it, if not give you a sip of their watermelon Four Loko. Hey, don’t be judgemental. Haha, just kidding. That shit is gross.

Your thrill seeking and fiery ways will reach a peak this month, most likely in a confusing hookup/matchmaker attempt gone wrong when you’ll get a bit too pushy. I KNOW you think that Brandon will be just PERFECT for Sally and/or vice versa, however, consider instead of yelling “SLAP THE BAG BRANDON!,” that you should probably just give Sally a pat on the back and tell her that her earrings make her look good today.

SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23 - NOVEMBER 21)

TAURUS (APRIL 20 - MAY 20)

SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22 - DECEMBER 21)

May your spirits soar high and your shot glass stay full!

October is your favorite month, and that will work in your favor. You will most likely get yakked about at least twice, and fall into best friend love with someone that is absolutely great. At the end of the day what is good and real will prevail.

You can expect things to stay cool for you this month, Taurus, but only because you’re just always that cool. Only possible dangers could include: a broken nail from all the rad shredding you’ve been doing lately, and longboards.

Philosophy, blah blah blah. Dhall, blah blah blah. That art film will wreck your mind while simultaneoulsy expanding it. Accept all forms of catharsis.

GEMINI (MAY 21 - JUNE 20)

You and a box of wine will become good friends, though you must be aware of your greedy emo tendencies. Limit moonlit walks paired with late night existential texts. If you’re wondering why nobody “gets” you, you’re looking at it wrong. You don’t get you.

This month will be nice for you, full of new experiences and meeting new people. A few set backs still exist however: the bees will never leave you alone, and that one friend you have is still going to text you too much about her sex life.

CANCER (JUNE 21 - JULY 22) Yes, that rad new band is going to come to The Stood.

Yes, you’re going to get too drunk to enjoy it. October is a month of limits for you, Cancer, including how many muffins you might want to eat on a Saturday morning when The Hub is full of zombies and your “omg­it’s­them!!!” person walks through but doesn’t look at you. Not because the universe cares about how many muffins you scarf down, but that it feels really bad for you when you talk with your mouth full.

CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22 - JANUARY 19)

AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20 - FEBRUARY 18) Resist the urge to look through old Facebook photos while studying science notes.

PISCES (FEBRUARY 19 - MARCH 20) This October, you prefer to keep it classic: simultaneously insane and inviting.

LEO (JULY 23 - AUGUST 22) Look out! Leo’s throwing shade. But then again, when aren’t you? Chill off the haterade for a while and start to feel the vibe. Go out into the quad and ask someone to jam, run off into the woods with your new friends, fall asleep in a bed that smells good and reminds you of clean things. Or dirty things. Or whatever kind of things you’re into. In any case, world, or scenario, remember this: when you swerve, the only thing that you really avoided was possible friendship.

VIRGO (AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 22) Eyebrows will remain on fleek while Rihanna will remain abundant. All hail.

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WHY WE CAN’T BOOK CHILDISH GAMBINO: PSGA PROGRAMMING AND EVENTS BREAKDOWN

by Jack Tomascak As one of the General Programming Coordinators, I frequently get asked questions about events happening all around campus. What you might not know is that there are many folks in charge of these various events. Events can be broken down in to three different categories.

MAJOR EVENTS Fall Fest: Happening this year on November 1st,

Fall Fest is a smaller scale version of Culture Shock, with fewer bands and only occurring for one evening. This event takes place in the Stood on Main Stage and is directly handled

by Major Events Coordinator (MEC) William Rutledge. Budget = $15,000 for talent.

Culture Shock: Culture Shock happens each April

and is the ubiquitous two-day music festival that is accompanied by rides, vendors, and other frivolity. This takes place outdoors on the Admissions Lawn (rain location – Stood) and is also run by MEC William Rutledge. Budget: $65,000 for talent, 9,000 for maintenance, $25,000 for staging, and$16,000 for security.

Club Parties / Events: Handled by on-campus clubs! Frequent party-throwers include SOCA, Latinos Unidos, OAPIA, CANDIES, LGBTQU, and Hip-Hop Club. These tend to happen on Stood Main Stage. Budget: depends on the club.

GENERAL PROGRAMMING EVENTS Zombie Prom: One night of undead madness,

musical acts, and fake blood. This is run by the General Programming Coordinators (GPC), Jack Tomascak and Janet Katsnelson. Budget: $3,500 for talent, $3,000 for security.

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General Programming: If you’ve attended a

concert in Whitson’s in The Stood, chances are it was a General Programming event. This is where smaller off-campus artists get the chance to headline a room and play along with Purchase acts. These are handled by GPCs Jack Tomascak and Janet Katsnelson. Budget: $19,000 for general programming, $4,500 for non-music, $5,000 for club/org/service collaboration, $4,000 for student collaboration.

As described here: our budgets are extremely limited.

Your mandatory student activity fee, at other SUNYs, typically goes into clubs/organizations functioning as well as having somewhere between two or four “big-name” artists to perform at the school. At Purchase, it goes into not only a whole years’ worth of programming, it supplies fall and spring events that last all day.

At other schools, these two bands may be huge – but it runs the risk of being extremely divisive. The nature of Culture Shock and Fall Fest allow for full-day immersion in a fun environment while you listen to curated, on-the-rise (or popular!) artists that the Major Events Coordinator thinks are cool enough to be exposed to a wider audience! We try to hit every genre imaginable to make sure all tastes are catered to, but trust us when we say that we don’t book bands because they suck.

If you ever have any questions about an event and who is responsible for it, email Jossalyn Collado, the Student Activities Coordinator. She will always have the answer to your question. GO FORTH AND PARTY!

FALL FEST NOVEMBER 1ST

COVER SHOW NOVEMBER 8TH

WHY? TTNG SAINT PEPSI HALEEK MAUL ALEX G PHOTAY (FULL BAND) NINE OF SWORDS DANIELLE GRUBB

A DAY TO REMEMBER AMY WINEHOUSE BEST COAST CAT POWER DEATH GRIPS ED SHEERAN LADY GAGA LED ZEPPELIN MODEST MOUSE SEX BOB-OMB STEVIE WONDER ST. VINCENT SYSTEM OF A DOWN WHITE STRIPES WOLFMOTHER

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WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE...

PUBLISHED

by Nina Braca Universities across the country have been shutting down their journalism departments due to the so-called “death of journalism,” citing their reason for doing away with these programs due to the fact that journalism simply isn’t “relevant” anymore.

While I agree with the fact that certain types of journalism aren’t as relevant as they used to be, journalistic practices are by no means dead.

I am tired of people saying that journalism is dead. It is not dead. Journalism is evolving. If journalism was Charmander, it would be turning into Charzard. News stories that could have been printed in other decades could not be printed now.

Certain feature pieces that are published would never be published back in the 70’s or 80’s. Due to the rise of the internet, information is easily accessible for everyone. That also means that false information is out there, and is actively being read by people who perceive it as true. This raises the issue of journalistic ethics: the moral principles of what is right in terms of publication, and what is wrong. I broke it down into a few of these terms to help you understand why journalism is not dead.

It’s not dying. It’s not even sick. It’s totally fine.

TO PRINT OR NOT TO PRINT: AN INVASION OF PRIVACY A common problem with publications in this day and age is the issue of printing certain stories due to their controversial content. Tabloids and supermarket magazines want to sell issues to make money. There is no ethics involved in their work.

There is a common conflict of privacy. Examples: what can be printed on a campus publication vs a national newspaper. One has a small circulation size, the other is read by the entire country. It is hard to know where to draw the line between what is right and wrong. If you wouldn’t want it published

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about you, do not publish it about others. That being said, if someone needs to be called out on doing something illegal and it is of interest to the public, then that is a different story. Recently, we discussed a similar topic in my Freedom and the Media class. If a story is controversial but involves a well-known-public figure, it is of the public’s interest to know the story. But in terms of a private person ex: a student at a school, their personal life should not be of public interest and therefore should not be public. I will spare you the 4 hour lecture and say this: “the right to be left alone is indeed the beginning of all freedom.” - Justice William Douglas.

INTERNET AND JOURNALISM: THE SATIRICAL ISSUE Websites like The Onion and Clickhole are huge satirical publications that do not specify their falsities unless you are familiar with their site. Just because The Onion might be protected from libel claims does not mean that every reader understands the purposeful inaccuracies of the site. So, yes, if your mom posts that Onion article on her Facebook about how the world is ending, she might not understand exactly what type of website The Onion is.

DON’T BE MEAN: OPINION VS FACT An opinion should not be mean, malicious or mocking. It should be an opinion. If you don’t like a movie you saw, that is fine, but don’t review it as the worst movie on the face of the earth. That title is reserved for Avatar (this was a joke not an opinion). Having an opinion and means of expressing it does not make it right. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But there is a difference between constructive criticism and blatant verbal attack.

Journalism is only dead if people continue to say it is. It cannot die as long as news needs to be heard and news needs to be heard as long as things keep happening. Things are always happening. News is always relevant. It just depends on how it is reported.

CRAZY IS A WORD

by Matia Emsellem

I WOULD LIKE TO CALL ATTENTION TO A WORD THAT IS USED UNFAIRLY AND HAS INFECTED CONTEMPORARY VOCABULARY. It is not a modern term (it is timeworn), nor has modernity altered Sweet Merriam’s definition of said word, which goes as follows:

CRAZY (ADJECTIVE) 1. Conceived or made without regard for reason or reality “the mansion is a crazy construction of several different styles” 2. Having or showing a very abnormal or sick state of mind “a crazy woman who tried to throw her baby out of a window” 3. Showing or marked by a lack of good sense or judgment “a crazy plan to climb Mount Everest without proper equipment” So, according to Sweet and Detailed Merriam, the word crazy implies a situation that is unhandleable, childish and wrong. The word contains power, because it takes up space, it tackles its own environment. And it is, in fact, an insult. One that I have heard thrown around so aimlessly by men and women alike, and so often in complete oblivion of the behavior that it claims.

I would like to say firstly that there cannot be so many crazy women in the world for this word to be publicized in such a way. Of course crazy people exist, but how on earth could there possibly be so many more “crazy” women than men? It’s impossible. The word has undergone a problematic gendering, one which only furthers the de-legitimizing and misinterpretation of female emotion. I have never heard the term “bat-shit crazy” in regards to a male-identified person.

In regards to women, the word is almost always associated to said woman’s sexual

actions, drinking practices, and general over-sentiment. I have heard women called crazy because they were being honest, drunk, impassioned, horny, tender, or frustrated. I’ve questioned if I was “crazy” when I was being honest, drunk, impassioned, horny, tender, or frustrated. It is used as a flippant disregard, it is a comment on an aspect of a woman that one happens to find distasteful. It’s also been sneakily introduced into language-- it is not perceived as an issue because it lives under the safety of “definition,” and it is used by everyone, men and women alike.

I recently read an article in the New York Times called Learning to Love Criticism by a writer named Tara Mohr. The article was about the excess of personality feedback that women receive, particularly in the work environment, and quoted a study of workplace performance reviews given to both men and women. In 248 reviews from 29 companies, not only did women receive more negative reviews than men, but 76% of the feedback given to women was some sort of judgment on their personality, while 2% of men’s reviews contained similar criticism. This is similar behavior and it is obviously unfair. We still have to move much further away from a mindset that is overly-married to the ties between the feminine to her feelings and disposition.

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THE ICK IN YIK YAK

by Chris Stewart I was sitting in the library in early September when my good friend sent me a text telling me to download Yik Yak. Her message was brief, as well as the description of the app. I thoughtlessly complied with her download request and instantly began laughing – alone, on the upper promenade of the library. What followed was weeks of excessive refreshing and snickering in solitude or among friends.

Yik Yak is a Millennial’s dream; anonymously posting every thought you compose, regardless of it’s sad, funny, rude or (everyone’s favorite) sexual content. I found myself wondering if Yakking would become the new tweeting and anonymous “ups” would overthrow our beloved “likes” and “favorites.”

Designed by two Furman University graduates, the app is specifically geared toward the collegiate crowd. Dubbed by the creators as a “virtual bulletin board,” yakkers can anonymously post and see their yak’s popularity increase or decrease at a sickening speed.

Foreseeing the abuse of anonymous content, the programmers block high schools using GPS coordinates (called geo-fencing) to strain out the under 18 crowd.

Since it’s launch in early 2014, Yik Yak is used on over 200 college campuses, Purchase included. For a brief moment in time, it seemed like you had access to what everyone at Purchase was thinking, good or bad. Now, not even a month later, many students have already deleted the app or consider it often. So why is Yik Yak’s popularity already fleeting?

Cyber-bullying has been a constant issue dating back to the MySpace era. Abuse via the Internet seemed to hurt even more than live-confrontational bullying. The Internet unites many more people, thus allowing several hundred more eyes to focus on the threatening and

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threatened. With Yik Yak’s anonymous quality comes an elevated eeriness to the age of cyber-bullies; you now have no clue who this person behind the keyboard could be. Not to mention that there is no way to tag your friends, and on this app the technology (like we have grown accustomed to) does not tag for you either. Something awful could be written about you, seen by hundreds in a matter of seconds and you have no indication of a threat. Yak’s are sent into the yak-motsphere and can only be “deleted by the original poster, or through means of down votes. The problem with the latter is the act of anonymously sending hate or admiration in isolation Dr. Keith Ablow, a member of the Fox News medical team, pins it perfectly when he states, “despite it’s name, ‘social media’ is an inherently antisocial medium.”

Yik Yak brings an even more present belief to project our feelings out into the social media universe, only to hope we can forget about them moments later. Society now faces people who have chosen to anonymously complain, or reach out to an entire community of people instead of a trusted confidant. Instant gratification is an understatement for what our generation is seeking. Harbor a thought for three seconds, give it to the world, and move onto the next.

PARTY SHITTY: WHAT’S WRONG WITH HALLOWEEN COSTUMES

by Alyssa Spizzirro

Costume stores are garbage. They sell products like “Hot on the Trail” Native American costumes and “Chinese Hat.” Don’t buy this stuff. Don’t contribute to the absurd notion that it is acceptable to use cultural elements of peoples who have been systematically oppressed and play dress-up. It should not work like that. Culture and tradition isn’t disposable.

Don’t treat it that way. There’s a difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation.

If you see something problematic, call that person out. If you think something is questionable, don’t wear it! Also, please don’t dress up as a genitalia. Some offensive things:

Race/Ethnicity: I don’t want to talk to you if

you are dressed up like an “Eskimo Cutie,” but I have no problem with you dressing up as a “Colonial Man.” One isn’t a pejorative description of an indigenous population. Do not buy the “Hey Amigo Mexican” costume, which is listened under “funny costumes” on Party City’s website. I don’t understand why someone would find being Mexican funny. Dress up like Thomas Jefferson all you want. He owned slaves and raped them, but he was never deprived of fundamental human rights because of how he looked on the outside.

Religion: I don’t care if you dress up like

Christmas, but if you decide to wear a “Day of the Dead Senorita” costume, you’re day of the dead to me. It’s not as problematic to dress up like a nun in the same way that it would be to dress as a Hasidic Jew. One group experiences a privileged place in society, the latter has been systematically slaughtered. Subcultures: You’re not in a gang, you’re not a “gangster.”

There are about 1.4 million criminally active gang members in the US, and gang violence is a very real problem. Don’t dress up as a “Chonga,” you’re not reclaiming the word by doing so.

Traumatic/Controversial Events: Don’t dress

up like an abortion. Don’t dress up like 9/11.

Don’t dress up like George Zimmerman. As a general rule, try not to utilize any costume where people have been murdered or systematically oppressed because of how they looked or what they believed. As a side note, dressing up like “Officer Rita Dem Rights” is also probably not a great idea. Police brutality happens every day and it’s awful.

Sexy Woman Costume: There’s nothing out-

wardly offensive about these. Please feel proud and comfortable with your body. However, your “Man Stealing Maid” costume operates under the assumption that female sexuality is hyperactive and that women bare the primary responsibility for acts of treachery. Dressing up like a “Sexy Blast Off Astronaut” diminishes a woman’s role in those spaces. It implies that a woman only belongs there if she’s sexualized.

Mind you, there are no “Sexy Man Space Suits.”

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HORRORCORE HISTORY

by Tyler Rescigno

Dwelling in the darkest corner of hip-hop’s subgenres is the abrasive horrorcore, a subgenre that boasts dark narratives highlighted by often unsettling imagery and explicit content.

When rappers began to embody everything bloody and disgusting is debated, but what can be said for certain is this shock genre makes enough of an impact to inspire MCs today and is responsible for some of the greatest innovations in hip-hop.

The origins of horrorcore are unclear, but horror first made its way into hip-hop with Jimmy Splicer’s 1980 debut single, “The Adventures of Super Rhyme (Rap).” While not containing the elements that make horrorcore the violent genre we know it as today, in this epic 15 minute long narrative, Splicer has a verse dedicated to Dracula who loves disco and is an expert at the “Transylvania Boogie.” The 80’s continued to spawn artists and tracks similar to Splicer’s. Groups like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and even The Fresh Prince himself dabbled in horror themed raps when he released the Freddy Kreuger inspired rap, “A Nightmare on my Street”, featuring DJ Jazzy Jeff.

As the 1980s were coming to a close, emerging groups began to experiment with more intense horror themed lyrics. In 1988, two albums were released that arguably started horrorcore and took lyricism to a place it hadn’t been before. With the release of Geto Boys’ “Making Trouble” and the Ultramagnetic MCs’ “Critical Beatdown”, horrorcore had found its foundation.

Despite Ultramagnetic MCs member, Kool Keith, claiming responsibility for horrorcore, The Geto Boys’ 1988 release can be said to be the first contemporary horrorcore album as it predates “Critical Beatdown” by about eight months, the prior being released on February

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The Geto Boys (at the time of the album discussed were ‘The Ghetto Boys’) were a Houston based rap group, who would go on to inspire Southern rap as a whole. They were all 20 somethings when they released the game changing, “Making Trouble”, an album that pushed lyricism to extremes with its themes of violence and murder. In particular the groups song, “Assassins”, is credited famously by Violent J of the Insane Clown Posse to be the first horrocore track recorded. “Assassins” is a disturbing, violent narrative focusing on cold-blooded remorseless murder by the members. Vocabulary, like in “Assassins”, hadn’t found its way into rap prior to this release but had since become a mainstay in rap, especially in today’s hip-hop culture. “Assassins” would go on to be included their self-titled follow up album released in 1990, which also furthered the genre.

Only a few months after the influential Geto Boys release, Ultramagnetic MC’s released what would be regarded as the other essential foundation to the genre. In 1988, the group, which included Kool Keith and as mentioned before is the self-proclaimed inventor of the genre, dropped “Critical Beatdown.” The album was a success upon its release and retrospectively has become one of the most influential rap albums of all time for its abstruse and often improvisational lyrics and exceptional production by Ced-Gee which furthered sampling techniques for future artists. While the album boasts many technical and artistic achievements it was Kool Keith murdering other MCs that makes this album a staple, not only for hip-hop generally, but for horrorcore.

Kool Keith would later dive into horrorcore under the alias Dr. Octagon with his 1996 release “Dr. Octagonecologyst” in which he portrays a homicidal, alien gynecologist.

CONTINUED ON PAGE 37

A BROAD ABROAD

by Rachel Gill

After contemplating (an alternate word for procrastinating) for too long, I decided to dedicate these five-hundred words to art. There is an endless supply of it, way more than one person can experience in a lifetime. I find this incredible yet simultaneously distressing, that I will die without appreciating it all. But, thankfully an abundance exists rather than the contrary! Besides dancing in Amsterdam, I’ve found two art-related experiences to be particularly significant. First is the work of Vincent Van Gogh, a post-Impressionist Dutch painter. Amsterdam has an ENTIRE museum of his work, I’ve been there twice already. I react strongly to color, texture, and sound; two elements of which Van Gogh mastered in his paintings. The vivid colors and pronounced brush strokes had a consuming affect on me. My reactions varied from the sensation of someone tickling my forearms to an abrupt explosion of warmth in my chest. Along with pure physical reactions, many of his paintings of rural life immediately connected me to my upbringing in Indiana: a place with countless fields and the biggest skies I’ve yet to stand beneath. Perhaps the greatest thing is when I left this four-story treasure chest and re-entered reality, I realized the world can be as colorful and enchanting as the way Van Gogh expressed it! I owe a big thanks to my dear friend

Amanda Krische, also a dancer on exchange in Amsterdam, for introducing me to a new world: live orchestra! She has a deep love for classical music, and made it a point to see the Royal Concertgebouw perform. One of her favorite pieces was on the roster this season, Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 2. We went on a Thursday evening after class. As soon as the orchestra started playing, I became entirely absorbed and present in the performance. I couldn’t control the smile spreading across my face that grew to be as wide as the room.

The conductor reminded me of a wizard. It felt as if the whole thing was a fragile, complex operation and without the meticulously calculated timing and quality of his gestures, the entire thing could self implode. From my seat, I could only see the pianist’s hands in the reflection of the piano and his face when he lifted it up in pure ecstasy like the music was making his torso float away from his undoubtedly grounded lower half. There was one particular moment in the piece where I sensed all the energy in the room swelling until the tension could no longer sustain itself at such a high level, there was a pause - I might have stopped breathing for a moment - and then the most tremendous release as the piano advanced into the theme. Amanda and I grabbed each other and laughed, realizing how dramatically we were reacting to the music. It’s one of my favorite memories of Amsterdam so far. Well, that’s all I can say about art in five-hundred words, and I did a lot of condensing!

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TRIGGER WARNING: EMOTIONAL ABUSE

MODES OF SURVIVAL

by Stephanie Knipe

Recovery, as defined in google dictionary is “a return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.” The second definition reads, “the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.” I prefer the second, mostly because I personally place no validity on what a “normal state” of “mind” is. I also find it difficult to place what a “normal state” of really anything is. Furthermore, I feel the need to reject normativity, not just because I’m a cliche f’ing punk, but because normativity, in a sense, means Straight White Rich Cis Able Bodied/Minded Male or at least trying to achieve the straight white cis rich able bodied and minded male approach to things, which is legitimately impossible when you don’t fall into that category of being. In a culture where “normal,” in this model, means being privileged on all accounts in terms of social and cultural hierarchy then like, “normal” is only the reality for some people and is impossible to reach in the given power based capitalist global system. To give an image, I believe “normal” to be something like a straight white family hanging out at an Applebees and Mom and Dad are ordering the combo appetizer platter and the kids are sitting there apathetic, and Dad doesn’t have to check his bank statement before ordering the meal or worry about his 16 year old son ordering the steak because he knows he has an apt amount of cash in his checking account.

So, “normal” is a concept that means being privileged and this concept of “normal” is marketed in America as something that everybody either is or should achieve to be...which is funny (ha ha) because the system that is telling you to be privileged is the same system that is not allowing you to be so. BE NORMAL! I CAN’T!

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I TRIED! So everything is f’ed up and “normal” is f’ed up and is intangible and unreachable.

So I prefer the second definition: Recovery “the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.”

Recovery, an action or process It is not something that comes quickly and is easily obtained, it is an action, it is something that is happening/happens (possibly constantly) and this action is not just one sole action it is a series of actions (a process.)

A process to regain A series of actions in order to get something back. To regain is to get something that was once there that is not anymore.

To regain something stolen or lost For something to be stolen or lost it had to have been in your possession in the first place.

You cannot lose something that is not yours.

In this definition of recovery, there is a large amount of agency. Something was taken from you, you get it back. You regain control. It is interesting though, because this definition of recovery is usually used in reference to a stolen object, like a stolen phone. The phone’s recovery - it has been found. But I find that using this definition of recovery in a more figurative sense where something that has been “found” that was “taken away,” something less physically tangible than that of a phone or a handheld object, is incredibly therapeutic and therefore incredibly valid and useful. So if we look again at this definition of recovery; “the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost” it is easily applicable to the aftermath of an abuse, or several abuses, whether it be physically or emotionally, which are all things that I have had to battle.

When abuse rears its ugly fucking head, something is stolen from the victim. When I was going through it, I disassociated, unsure

of where my body fit in space, unsure of where parts of me went. I was somehow still breathing, but the idea that my lungs were taking in air made no sense to me. Abusers take parts of you, and when it’s over, if it ever ends, in order to survive you must replace them. In my recovery process, which is something I believe to be never ending, I acknowledge the parts that were taken from me, lay the remainder of my insides out on a table, and rebuild my body.

Slowly. I examine. Slowly. I craft steel parts and weld them back in. Slowly. I scientifically examine the damage and find new ways to make sure it never happens again.

“Somehow I stand here now, standing, standing, standing, sitting, “recovering,” “pretty okay” and I am able to look at abuse differently.

I flip it on its back and I dissect it. I regain control.”

I look at abuse as it is, masked as something tender, and eventually find the monsters. I reveal the monsters. But revealing the monsters means dealing with them, aggressively battling them, forcing them out, screaming at them until they eventually die down. Unfortunately, they still linger in my skin, I smell old spice deodorant on the train and I shut my eyes tightly and think about fields and fields of flowers. But that is why recovery is a process. Monsters exist but at least now I know now how to get them gone. And when I don’t feel like fighting, when I am too tired to kick my legs, I acknowledge that recovery is a process. That it is okay to not be okay. That I will move through this because I must, because I have made it this far. I think about the trembling 17 year old in the back of chemistry class, feeling crushed by the weight of my abuser and the entire world and not having anyone to relieve me. I think about her and I travel back in time and lift the weights and hold her hand and I say “it’s okay to not be strong for everyone all the time.” I look at myself now and I say “it’s okay to be strong for you and not everybody else” and I repeat “Recovery - ‘the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.’”

*THIS ARICLE CONTAINS CONTENT ABOUT EMOTIONAL ABUSE, WHICH MAY BE TRIGGERING

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SOUND BITES

by Abby Adams

“It’s HALLOWEEN!” Every year on Halloween, my town has a costume parade. Children of all ages dress up as their favorite heroes and villains, hiding in plain sight. Ghosts and ghouls run about, sneaking extra candy from their unsuspecting neighbors.

I love it! As a kid, my friends and I would fill pillowcases with sweets. We’d carve pumpkins, scoop out their insides, and light them with candles so they’d shine into the night.

Once, when I was about ten years old, we had a particularly spectacular Halloween party, and my friend’s father brought a canister of dry ice. We sat on the stoop dipping treats into the icy canister, giving them another layer of magic. At one point, he opened the canister and “poured” its contents down the steps. The dry ice sublimated as it hit the warm night air, casting the house in a spooky haze that lasted with the deepening of the sky.

That night, we told scary stories, and bobbed for apples. It was the best Halloween I’ve ever had.

New York apples are the best in autumn.

They’re a wonderfully sweet, crisp, and juicy treat for any occasion. I bake them into pies, serve them with pork chops, and slice them into salads, but for Halloween, caramel apples are where it’s at.

This recipe is one I’ve adapted from a recipe I found at http://cookingchanneltv.com. Caramel apples were a new venture for me. I’m halving this recipe from the one on the Cooking Channel’s site and switching things up a bit to suit my tastes. I am also taking into account the limitations put in place by the More Store’s selection of baking items.

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INGREDIENTS •3-4 apples (tart ones like Granny Smiths, Honey Crisp variety work the best).

•1/4 cup heavy cream •1 cup sugar (brown sugar also works) •1 tablespoon honey (I also added a little bit of maple syrup •1/8 teaspoon kosher salt •¼ tsp. Vanilla extract (again optional, but if you use this, add it in when you add in the cream).

•CRAFT STICKS OR CHOPSTICKS ARE NECESSARY IF YOU WANT TO HAVE LEGITIMATE APPLES. •Toppings: anything that you enjoy smashing up and pressing onto gooey caramel apples. I like cinnamon, flakes of sea salt, or chopped toasted

DIRECTIONS 1. Line a serving dish with parchment paper if available. It’s useful, as this gets pretty sticky.

2. Wash and dry the apples, insert a chopstick into the stem end of each one, and stand on the prepared serving dish.

3. Have the cream and skewered apples nearby, this really helps.

4. Put the sugar, honey, maple syrup and 1/2 cup water in a medium sized pan with high sides and heat over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally until the sugar dissolves.

5. Raise the heat to high and cook without stirring until the mixture is honey colored, about 10 minutes. If you have a thermometer, it should read 330o F.

6. Remove from the heat and immediately whisk in the cream (the mixture will darken as you do). The mixture will bubble up, so use a whisk with a longer handle so the steam doesn’t burn your hand.

Apples -by My Brightest Diamond Again, apples. I write about Shara Worden a lot. I just saw her perform at the Bowery Ballroom with some friends, it was my sixth time seeing her, and it was splendid as usual.

7. Let the mixture cool for 3 minutes.

Black and Costaud by My Brightest Diamond... again.

This song is about a little boy who is constantly jumping on and abusing the furniture in his home. One day, the furniture comes to life and teaches him a lesson. This song is downright absurd, and reflects the scary, magical nature of the holiday. Plus, the textures used create a very haunting vibe, which is appropriate for the holiday we’re celebrating!

8. Moving carefully, dip an apple into the caramel mixture, roll it in a topping, and set the treat on the prepared serving dish. Repeat this step with the remaining apples. If the caramel cools while dipping, reheat it briefly over low heat; swirl the mixture occasionally but do not stir.

SPOOKY TUNES: Every Single Night by Fiona Apple Fiona Apple’s off kilter style reflects the unease and lack of predictability that occurs on Halloween. The main connection to the recipe is in her last name, “Apple,” ha ha.

The Monster Mash by Bobby “Boris” Pickett & The Crypt Kickers This song is just because.

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WHY CRUSHING DOESN’T HAVE TO RUIN YOUR LIFE

by Stephanie Knipe

I’ve been single for a little over 6 months.

Half of that time was spent by me crying a lot and sleeping with men who had personalities comparable to a jesus wafer and the other half was spent by me, uh, “finding myself.” Well, I’m still in the “finding myself” phase but it’s transformed from reading poems all day and watching horrifyingly bad romantic comedies into falling in half love with everyone I freaking see. As a queer person, I experience attraction to people regardless of their gender identity, so my daily life is consistently made up of “wow cute” “wow another cute” “WOW cute again” and it is kind of stressful but also really incredible. It’s nice to know that there are a ton of amazing people that exist in the world, and it’s nice to finally be in a place where toxic gross shitty people are repelled by my positivity. I have realized that, although I am not ready for a serious romantic relationship, having intense crushes on strangers and also people I am really close with has been insanely fruitful.

To me, a crush qualifies as someone who you really really really like. That can be in a sexual way, a romantic way, a platonic way, whatever. I don’t think crushes have to be sexual or romantic, I think having a crush on someone is just, “I think you’re really fucking cool and I

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want to be around you a lot.” Whether or not you dream about smooching them is up to you, but I don’t think we have to center crushing around just wanting to see someone naked.

Crushing is important because it means that you’re finding value in someone else. You’re saying, “look how great this person is, isn’t that so great! I can’t stop thinking about it” and that’s beautiful and powerful.

Crushing is important to me because it means that I care about others, it means that I’m not dead inside, it means that I can feel feelings for someone without wanting to jump out of a window. And this is not to dismiss the fact that, yeah, a lot of the time crushes can be consuming in a really bad way and unrequited, but this negativity can be avoided. Why must our feelings for other people be reciprocated in the same exact way we experience them?

Is that even possible? Isn’t there something calming in feeling something good about someone else, and that being it? Maybe you’re not even ready to act on your crush feelings, or maybe you don’t even want to act on your crush feelings. It’s perfectly acceptable to love from afar, it’s perfectly acceptable to feel all heart eyes emoji for someone and that be what it is. In a love letter, Mckenzie Wark said to Kathy Acker - “Do we need to analyze our encounter with each other? Or can we just assume it, and see what kind of dialogue it anchors to a start in time?” Crush on, and remember that it is evidence of your passionate and big heart.

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DON’T WATCH THESE ALONE

by Chris Stewart

Everyone still enjoys Hocus Pocus and the Charlie Brown Halloween special, however, some of us have graduated to a much more perverted take on seasonal films. We may be confined to a campus, but we now have the power to instantly watch movies, two feet from our face nonetheless. The following movies are guaranteed to give you and your friends a solid scare while you munch on the candy you voluntarily used a meal on at The Hub.

THE EXORCIST (1973) – Crawling down the stairs

backwards, peeing in front your mom’s friends, projectile vomiting – this isn’t a bad Friday night; this is 12 year old Regan possessed by the devil and thirsty to insult you in every way possible. The culprit for many generation’s sleepless nights, The Exorcist is centered on a climactic exorcism that’s ending will leave you with your head turning, just like little Regan’s.

IMDB: 8 | Gutter: 8

FREDDY VS. JASON (2003) – For Halloween film

fans not looking to be biased, this is the perfect two-for-one deal. This comedic play on the two slasher kings infuses the futility of teenage Americana with a machete and some fancy bladed gloves. Sex, drugs and Kelly Rowland lead to a series of unfortunate events when Freddy and Jason are really just trying to put each other into the grave.

IMDB: 5.8 | Gutter: 6.3

THE DESCENT (2005) – A group of Lara Croft-es-

que friends indulge in a yearly expedition into a cave to find boyfriends – just kidding! What they really find is something closer to Chunk from the Goonies. Packed with lots of blood and jumps, this not-so-typical alien flick will have you and your girlfriends looking to never leave Purchase again.

IMDB: 7.3 | Gutter: 7.9

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V/H/S (2012) – A found footage film that has

five movies in one with each one more terrifying than the last. This film is not for those who plan on going to bed later in the evening.

Artistic but wildly uncomfortable, the viewers will experience all the beauty the horror genre has to offer by paying one small price – mental scars. Proceed with heavy caution.

IMDB: 5.8 |Gutter: 6

SCREAM (1996) - Wes Craven’s cult classic

follows the trials and tribulations of an American girl who recently becomes target of the iconic ghostface killer (not to be confused with Ghostface Killah). Considered campy for it’s time, Scream is filled with plenty of scare sequences, enough real horror to spook you for the night, and 90’s teens in cute outfits.

IMDB: 7.2 | Gutter: 7.2

MY BLOODY VALENTINE (2009) – The contempo-

rary remake is a montage of exactly what the modern horror audience is seeking: blood, guts and boobs. This playful slasher film gives us a murderer and a group of stupid but wildly attractive teenagers, resulting in one glamorous bloodbath. For those looking to be scared, but also and more importantly, emo.

IMDB: 5.5| Gutter: 6.2

30 DAYS OF NIGHT (2007) – What happens when an innocent Alaskan town is ravaged by hundreds of angry vacationing Cullens? The answer is revealed in this movie through means of blood curdling screams and teeth meeting skin. Walking across campus at night may not seem appealing after you watch this frozen vampire crusade.

IMDB: 6.6 |Gutter: 6.5

SILENT HOUSE (2011) – Elizabeth Olsen may be

locked away in a lake house, but this is not a bohemian charade. Shot in 85 minutes of real time, the audience journeys with Olsen through a series of thrills. Based off the original “La Casa Muda,” the American remake is tasteful, cinematically rich and wonderfully acted.

IMDB: 5.3 |Gutter: 7.3

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TOP 26 REASONS I HATE HALLOWEEN (THE YEAR IS 2004)

by Bruce Hamilton 1. Avoiding conversations with neighbors is difficult when you are forced to walk around your neighborhood for two hours.

15. Old Halloween mask smell is somehow worse.

2.Brady’s gonna crush the Steelers tonight, and I don’t want to miss it.

17. Quite honestly, gummy snacks are disgusting, and I’m baffled as to why people think I would even want to try one.

3.Candied apples aren’t as delicious as Mrs. Gladstone thinks they are.

18. Really wish Mom was here.

4.Does anybody else realize that this would go faster if we drove a car around the neighborhood?

5. Everyone is trying to scare me.

19. Should have brought my Gameboy.

6. Funny how they let me take an extra handful of candy after their dog bit my arm.

21. Underdressed and freezing.

7. Good grief. I’m a hockey player, not Jason.

My cousin Jason looks nothing like this.

23. Why did nobody know who I was supposed to be?

8. How come the adults get to drink beer in the street? I’m almost positive that’s illegal.

24. X marks the spot. X is home. I am finally home.

9. I am a grown 4th grader with better things to do than collect candy I could just buy discounted at CVS tomorrow.

25. You know, maybe I should lighten up a little.

10. Jealous of every kid who’s parents pull them around in a Radio Flyer instead of making them walk.

11. Kids at school told me that sometimes candied apples have razor blades in them.

12. Losing the costume contest to Cory Barnes was a bit of a blow to my ego, I’ll admit.

13. My birthday was less than a week ago and everybody has already forgotten about it.

14. New Halloween mask smell makes me want to die.

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16. Pillowcases are meant for pillows. They should not be used as temporary candy satchels.

20. There is no good reason for this holiday existing and this is something I am sure of.

22. Very okay with going home right now.

26. ZZZZZZZZZZ

GET BRUCE HOME

X 28

World of Horrorcraft

by Read More Hi, Read More here. This is the Halloween edition of my column! I will be participating in one of the internet’s scariest practices known as “role-playing”.

“Role-playing” is famous for its ability to possess the mind and body of all practitioners of this dark art and to never return them to their original state.

For the purposes of this column, I will be willingly riding the infamous soul collection vehicle, World of Warcraft, as a Draenei mage named Braatolt.

The following writings will document my attempt to become the alien being that has just survived a deadly spaceship crash and is attempting to recover his life as best he can.

I am healthy enough after the crash. I stand up and nearby one of my kin tells me that I must travel down the path and slay the moths tainted by our crash landing. A large amount of crystal radiation was released by our ship and it is my duty to cleanse the land of the grime that our crash landing inflicted upon the woods. Looking into the eyes of a nearby moth, I decided that I must stow away what conscience there is in my heart for nature’s creatures and slay this poor, mutating, bestial accident.

A powerful fireball is conjured in my fingers before leaving my hands and striking the insect in one of its many eyes. A gross cry of pain is heard through the air and the moth begins to charge at me before being felled by another swift fireball from my hands.

I am not proud of the task I conduct, but I am hardened by the process of cleansing the corruption we have spread. With a grim look on my face, I return to the ship to report my actions to my comrades and seek out their advice on what act of cleansing I should take part in next. Their faces look gaunt and slightly discolored, strangely enough. I assumed it to be fatigue from the impact. I am informed that our crash has had a larger effect on our surroundings than we had previously thought and that I must travel further past the remnants of our ship to vaccinate the local owlbeast population from the crystal radiation. I find the looks on their faces a bit

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eerie; their smiles seem to contradict their words and I sense a slight darkness in their hearts. Shrugging off my paranoia, I strap on my pack and travel to the owlbeast’s settlement and begin exposing them to a set of healing crystals that my people have used for many generations. In the midst of my healing process, I am startled by a sinister presence behind me. I spun around quickly. Casting a defensive mana barrier, I prepared for combat as an elvish assassin confronted me! He rushed me taking my shield down with a kick before tying me to a tree and preparing to execute me. The sweat began to run down my back as he described all the methods he could use to harvest my life, but I interrupted him asking why he would desire to kill me, a simple draenei cleansing the nearby lands. He spit on the ground, detailing a sinister plan by my people to mark the local wildlife with a curse that would transform them into irradiated horrors. I was in shock. The moths I had been slaying earlier had been failures because they possessed too much life. My people wanted soulless killing machines to help enforce their settlement on this foreign planet, and I was the herald of these corrupted monsters. My will broken and my heart heavy, I submitted to what torment this elf would have on my me. I watched in horror as he began to skin me alive, flaying the exterior of my skin from my legs and chest slowly. My screams rang through the air until my people came to see my bleeding husk hanging from a tree trunk. The forsaken souls could not even recognize me with the pile of my own flesh lying before my hooves. With my last breaths I condemned their unforgivable acts as the elf sliced out my eyes and slit my neck. I would serve my sentence out in death. However, my people would not forgive my treachery so easily. The gift of the Naaru was placed upon me and my eyes grew back in their sockets, my neck wound sealed and my skin renewed in all places. By the end of the healing, I found myself screaming with vigor. I was shocked by the return of life to my body and began to question their motives. They replied to the elf, “Remove his flesh again. And this time, start with his eyes.”

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ROSS YELLING AT YOU ABOUT MUSIC: SPOOKY EDITION

by Ross Pannebecker

HELLO MY NAME IS ROSS PANNEBECKER I LIKE MUSIC A LOT AND IT IS ALWAYS NICE TO DISCOVER NEW MUSIC BUT THERE IS SO MUCH OF IT AND OFTENTIMES IT IS TEDIOUS TO PORE OVER MUSIC BLOGS AND THE LIKE SO HERE I HAVE MADE FOR YOU (YES YOU) SOME QUICK LIL SNIPPETY ALBUM REVIEWS SO THAT YOU CAN KEEP UP WITH YOUR BUSY 21ST-CENTURY LIFE, ALL CAPS BECAUSE I AM YELLING

SWANS - PUBLIC CASTRATION IS A GOOD IDEA (BURN ONE/THIRSTY EAR): A LIVE SET FROM THE LORDS OF SPOOK, ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING 4/5

BORIS PICKETT AND THE CRYPT-KEEPERS MONSTER MASH (GARPAX/DECCA): DAMN FIVE DECADES LATER THIS IS STILL SPOOKY AS HELL 5/5

WARREN ZEVON - WEREWOLVES OF LONDON (ASYLUM): HEY NOW THIS IS PRETTY DARN SPOOKY I LIKE THIS 4/5

MARTHA STEWART’S LIVING - SPOOKY SOUNDS FOR HALLOWEEN (RHINO): A VERY GENERIC RELEASE FROM SOMEONE WHO I ALMOST RESPECTED 2/5 BLACK SABBATH - BLACK SABBATH (VERTIGO): WHAT IS THIS THAT STANDS BEFORE ME? SOME GOOD SHIT 5/5 DIS-IPLIN - DEMO 2013 (SELF-RELEASED): NOT SPOOKY PER SE BUT STILL SOME HARDCORE FUCKIN PUNK 4/5

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MICHAEL JACKSON - THRILLER (EPIC): TITLE TRACK IS CERTAINLY SPOOKY BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST 3/5 AC/DC - HIGHWAY TO HELL (ATLANTIC/ALBERT): FUCK AC/DC THIS ISN’T SPOOKY AT ALL FUCK AC/DC UGH 1/5

RAY PARKER JR. - (THEME FROM) GHOSTBUSTERS (ARISTA): HOLY SHIT I’M TERRIFIED SOMEONE CALL MY MOM THIS BANGS 6/5 MIKE OLDFIELD - TUBULAR BELLS (VIRGIN): THIS IS SPOOKY AND GREAT AND I’M SO SERIOUS OKAY 4/5 ELECTRIC WIZARD - WITCHCULT TODAY (RISE ABOVE/CANDLELIGHT/LEAF HOUND): THE ARTIST/ALBUM’S NAME JUST SCREAMS “DAMN THIS IS SPOOKY SHIT” 4/5

RAY PARKER JR. - (THEME FROM) GHOSTBUSTERS (ARISTA) 32

A COMPREHENSIVE LIST OF THE BEST HALLOWEEN CANDY FOR AGES 19 AND UP

by Max Mahler Hey, so if you’re reading this, there’s a “pretty good chance” that you’re “too old” to go “trick-or-treating” this Halloween. Maybe you’re OK or even happy about this; you’ve made the mature decision to not be the creepy adult trolling the streets with the

REESE’S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS: I mostly just picked these because I really like them but also the chocolate and peanut butter combo could be a metaphor for an overwhelming-anxiety-about-the-future and beinghaunted-by-the-mistakes-of-your-past combo, or something.

young ones and instead you’re just going to stay indoors and drink copious amounts of pumpkin drank with your fellow non-kids. On the other hand you might be a bit upset that all the Pagan undertones and apple bobbing hype have forced you to confront your own mortality and loss of innocence. You may no longer be a child, but don’t worry too much, you can still wear a costume and - that’s right - you can still eat a lot of candy.

ASSORTED HARD CANDIES (GRANDPARENT MIX) : Face it, you’re prime is over.

Forget your middle ages. You’re a decrepit sack of bones and pus so you might as well cut to the chase and get sucking.

PIXY STIX: These things have a whole different meaning than they use to. When you’re a kid, you see a Pixy Stix and think, “hell yeah I could pound like six of these babies right now.” After about a decade of taste bud development, you probably look at Pixy Stix with disgust; they’re pretty much the physical representation of indulgence. It’s just a straw full of sugar. Sometimes you gotta treat yourself though.

MINTS: So you can eat candy without having to brush your teeth afterwards.

CANDY CIGARETTES: Really funny and sad.

NOW AND LATER: “Now you’re an adult, later you’ll be dead.”

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BE SAFE AND ENJOY!

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE JETS

by Lucas Tromblee Jet fans, I know exactly what you’re thinking after the last insufferable 5 games of the 2014 season, leaving us with a promising record of 1 - 4: •Darrelle Revis, our God and Savior of the 20072012 seasons, the man who once performed highlight worthy miracles on a weekly basis as Chad Pennington struggled to not roll his ankle, the man who’s deft and intuition as an athlete could not be matched by John Madden’s virtualized version of himself (even with near-perfect stats), the man who gave the Jets more promise the franchise has seen since 1969, has been lost to the powers of Satan and Bill Belichick, and he will be dearly missed. Let Woody Johnson and the other owners of the team bathe in their own sin and stupidity for letting him go for less than ten billion dollars as we, the fans, lament our loss with every curl route run against our defense’s secondary.

• Our offensive line is obviously extremely brawny, making them among the best in the league. On the other hand, we’ve lost over 100 yards for offensive offsides the past five games. So for my readers unfamiliar to the basic concepts of football, the point

time we gain a yard against the combined force of eleven, two-hundred-and-something-pound men, it’s a sort of miracle, and every time our offensive line moves before the snap, we lose five yards, which is the opposite of a miracle. So why the fuck, you might ask, do we jump off- sides so often? I don’t have even a speculative answer, but if any of the linemen are reading this article, hopefully they’re simultaneously practicing their counting skills. My advice: next game, listen to Geno give the snap-count, count, and while you count, just don’t fucking move. It is so simple. If you can’t figure it out by next game, I propose sending in subs that are trained specifically and exclusively in counting how many times Geno says “hut” just to stand there on the line before the snap. Sure, switching off the subs for the starting line-men might cause some protection issues, but I don’t care. I’ve made my point. It’s time to get more brawn in the brain, Jets.

•Rex Ryan has to cut it with the Weight-Watchers, sweater-vest wearing, “being professional” shit.

We’re the Jets. We feed our quarterbacks dirty hotdogs on the side- line when they’re having a bad game. Our fans in Metlife stadium, on average, induce around two-hundred fights a game, often with other Jet fans. Michael Vick is on our roster.

It’s time to stop pretending we’re something that we obviously aren’t. I don’t know how we’re going to get to the Super Bowl this year, but when we do, it won’t be because of Rex’s sexy sweaters.

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 13 The album is absolutely worth a listen with great production provided by Dan the Automator and obscure and sinister lyrics that only Kool Keith could pull off.

But briefly, back to the 80s.

As the decade was coming to a close, Esham, a 15 year old rapper from Detroit released “Boomin’ Words from Hell” in 1989. While describing his music as “acid rap”, the tracks on this album are exceptionally dark and shocking, enough that the album should be mentioned in the discussion despite Esham’s denial. The lyrics were so dark that record companies would turn down the teenage rapper and listeners likened him to a devil worshiper, to which he replied, “I never worshiped the devil...I was simply trying to recreate the feeling you get watching a horror movie.”

At the turn of the decade, horrorcore rap had become more widespread and it seemed that more and more groups were approaching this style of lyricism and production. The early 90s spawned artists, not only but including, Los Angeles Insane Poetry who released their album “Grim Reality” in 1992 and Big L who dropped his violent debut single “Devil’s Son” in 1993, but it was Gravediggaz who brought the genre to new heights.

Gravediggaz released what would go on to be considered the genre’s high point in August of 1994. The rap supergroup consisted of Prince Paul, Frukwan, Too Poetic and already hip hop royalty RZA whose main group Wu-Tang had released their classic, debut album the year prior. The album spawned three equally dark, disturbing and oddly playful singles; “Diary of a Madman”, “Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide” and “1-800 Suicide.” This seemed to be where horrorcore could finally take off and fully break into the mainstream. The album received enough attention that Def Jam tried to make horrorcore a movement.

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Following the success of “6 Feet Deep”, Flatlinerz was founded by Def Jam but did not live up to its predecessor. Flatlinerz’ debut release w“U.S.A” lacked almost everything that “6 Feet Deep” offered. “U.S.A” or “Under Satan’s Authority” only sold 36,000 copies and had one low charting single. Despite Def Jam’s efforts to make this a popular movement, the genre scrambled back into obscurity and now lives in rap’s underground.

Despite this, more recent artists have used horrorcore aspects in their music despite some of the following artists denying the term. The Insane Clown Posse, Eminem, Tech N9ne, Three Six Mafia and members of Odd Future, most famously Tyler the Creator, have used elements of horrorcore in their music, but are not defined by it. Gravediggaz seem to remain the only group defined by it and who have fully embodied the genre in a way that was commercial and recognizable.

Horrorcore is a strange sub-genre that, while never containing qualities that would lead to success, still made an impact on hip-hop with Gravediggaz’ achievement of creating a defining rap album within the genre and Ultramagnetic MCs strong influence on the genre as a whole . Horrorcore helped push rap music into the new school, especially with “Critical Beatdown”, by inspiring innovations in production and pushing rap lyricism away from the old school by opening the door to more expressive and less reserved narratives.

Horrorcore may make a comeback someday but will likely remain at a similar cult status to the films and literature that inspired it.

SPACE IS THE PLACE

by Gen Tanaka They say that Halloween is a time when the worlds of the dead and the living touch briefly. Anyone who has celebrated Halloween in intergalactic space will tell you that Spaceween (as officially recognized by 96 sovereign civilizations) is not something to be celebrated, but feared.

With that said, I present to you a personal account of Spaceween as experienced by Doctor Remus Sarah Fodchuck, approximately 42069 years after the publication of this column.

This reading experience is most complimented by a listening of “Space is the Place” as composed

by Sun-Ra in the Human Western Civilization year of 1972. (His music continued to be celebrated by the Galactic Terran Federation until the year 44084, after which the concept of the individual was relinquished throughout all of existence to make way for supreme divinity).

Galactic Time 26.49-44083: It didn’t help that I woke up deathly hung-over, my credit-modification assures me that I only spent 0.24 million doubloons on space-weed at my great-grandparents 4th wedding last night. It was certainly an occasion worth spending on I guess…. they welcomed thirty-one consciousness’ into their centuries old civil union. Am I excited that I have THIRTY-ONE new family members? Yes! Did I want to impress them with my blunt-rolling skills? Fuck Yes! I just wish they had picked a more convenient time… also the Emperor really needs to get its shit together with all this fucking inflation. Anyway, I need to get back to my home system of Andromeda in time for my goldfish Andy’s graduation. A PhD in Telepathic Engineering… who would have thought that wanker could even make it through 3rd High School? I’m real proud and excited for ya buddy, but a little worried too because I’m cutting it close and I don’t want to get caught out in Inter-Galactic Space when the clock hits Midnight.

Galactic Time 26.73-44083: Lard brained screechy gobshyte! I’m already too late to make it to the ceremony but also too far a long my journey to go back the way I came. I’ve no choice to keep heading towards Andromeda, but I’m not even sure I’ll arrive within the day. Some stupid fucking space monkeys got sucked into the honey-comb percalater and fucked up the resin barrier so my ship is fucked beyond belief. I’m lucky to be alive, but all the fuel pulled through and all I got now is the acceleration I’ve built up. Holy fuck, if I don’t get home soon I’ll end up all loopy in my cognition processor like Uncle Remus Senior. Every fucking ghost of everything that ever lived will be flying around in IGS tonight.

What a shitshow… I’m fucked.

Galactic Time 26.83-44083: It’s Spaceween… It’s been Spaceween for a little while now and I’ve been visited by the ghost of Michael Kiske. Who is Michael Kiske you ask? I’ve no fucking clue, but he tells me he was famous for singing in the power-metal band “Helloween”. Anyway, he’s straddling me and stroking my hair while whispering into my aural units the truth about life after death and the 23 mantras of the holy post-existence conglomeration. Did you know that it was destiny which suggested the space monkeys to disintegrate their bodies upon the 38-inch titanium rotary? And that it was all so that I could be enlightened by this messenger of post-death ecstasy and join him in a nirvana of infinite space-weed? Words cannot do justice the beauty which has rewired my neural circuiting to accommodate Mr. Kiske in my vessel. I shall return to civilization as messenger of the new age, a second chance…

“Meet the others at the store, knock on other people’s door. Trick or treat they have no choice, little ghosts are makin’ lotsa noise”. –Helloween, 1987.

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THIS ST*CK IS IMPORTANT: IN DEFENSE OF TIGERS JAW

by Jack Tomascak

The band Tigers Jaw gets a bad rap from nearly every hyper-cool Bushwick fucker who I talk to. First off, let me tell you that Tigers Jaw is legitimately my favorite band. It wasn’t love at first listen, but after a few exposures something clicked HARD. Threepart harmonies, nice warm organ, tons of cymbals, lyrics that hit my 16 year old body at 70 miles per hour… I was (and still am) in love. Thus, when I see these people out here just tearing them down under these false notions of what they are as a band, I get heated. This is my message to you, and my case for why you should listen to them even though other idiots might tell you to not.

I. There is a myth that Tigers Jaw is a pop-punk bro down pizza pals band (thus, they are immediately discounted). One thing that is true is that Tigers Jaw came to light because they were jocked very hard

by Title Fight, a melodic hardcore band similarly from Pennsylvania. While they have run with many tough-guy sorts of bands that teeter on alt-rock and hardcore (Title Fight, Balance and Composure, Touche Amore, Pianos Become The Teeth, etc.), Tigers Jaw’s music does not particularly align with this. In fact, their first record “Belongs To The Dead” is a lofi pop record! All of the warm bedroom charm a lot of current bands are re-using (Teen Suicide / Julia Brown / Alex G, etc.) was captured by Tigers Jaw in 2006. Fun fact: the name Tigers Jaw is a reference to none other than The Microphones. They have a song called “In a Tiger’s Jaw, Loving, Living Raw” that came out in ’02. This should give you some perspective as to where exactly this band is coming from. It isn’t particularly rooted in fun, posi-jump, stage dive rock. It’s rooted in a more somber and less postured position.

II. There are two institutions to blame for Tigers Jaw’s misconception in the world. The first is their record label, Run For Cover Records. Not only is

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the label run by general alpha male idiots (they responded to a question on Tumblr this one time saying someone sounded “like a needy girlfriend”), the company the band kept during their early years didn’t exactly align with the rest of the bands on the label. The aforementioned Title Fight, along with The Wonder Years and Man Overboard, were being promoted heavily to the pop-punk kids at Warped Tour at the same time as Tigers Jaw. The band was pushed by this truly awful label, started by a huge pop-punk fan from Boston on his father’s credit card (is there anything worse?). Thus, the fans were, and are, mostly awful! The fans are the second institution to blame for their misconception.

I’ve seen this band probably 10 or so times – each time I saw them the amount of stage-diving, head crawling assholes gets greater and greater. The last time I saw them in their prime form (before 3/5 of the band left at once), one of their guitarist/vocalist combos Adam McIlwee continuously flipped off the crowd. It was sick. Tigers Jaw sounds like fuckin’ Superchunk. I know where these people are getting the idea that it’s somersault-off-the-stage music – the culture has trained them to think that’s the only acceptable mode of participation at shows – but it rarely makes sense.

III. The first time I came to Purchase was early 2011 for a show at The Stood – it was Tigers Jaw, Snowing, Hostage Calm, O Pioneers!, Sirs, and Midi & The Modern Dance. Killer lineup. I saw them again in my senior year of high school with Balance & Composure, Hostage Calm, Empire! Empire!, and One Hundred Year Ocean. I’m legally bound to tell you that part of the reason why I go to this school is because of Tigers Jaw. I’m here because of them.

I’m writing this thing BECAUSE OF THEM. Shouldn’t the fact that you are reading this, hearing my beautiful voice in your head, be enough for you to defend that band with YOUR LIFE? IN CONCLUSION, my favorite Tigers Jaw songs are “Lodging,” “Cool,” “I Was Never Your Boyfriend,” “Meet Me At The Corner,” “Thank You, Noah Lowrey,” and “Arms Across America.” Listen to all of them. Protect Tigers Jaw at all costs.

LB

LANI RUBIN

YARRA BERGER

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LUCID FALLACIES HINCHEN REVIEWS

by Gordon Hinchen Welcome to Hinchen Reviews! As the title suggests, this is the part where I express my opinion and that’s it. Since Halloween is coming up and watching scary movies is a widely popular custom for the event, I thought it would be appropriate if I told you what to watch. A few years ago, a prolific hybrid of the slasher genre made its way into my life and ever since then I have felt unconditionally, one hundred percent, absolutely complete in every way. Well, almost. There is still one intangibly small void left in my heart, but I know the secret to filling it. Everyone must watch the aforementioned film of which I don’t particularly recall the name.

When it comes to pointless violence and massive bloodshed, slasher is the genre of preference. Often featuring seemingly immortal, horribly inhospitable antagonists, slasher films come equipped with innumerable sequels, guarantying hours of endless fun, and a style that makes all acting therein quite laughable. I’m not insinuating that the actors in slashers are bad, but they certainly look bad. But something tells me that anyone watching a slasher movie is not at all concerned with the acting quality. That being said, the acting in this movie is more incomparable than Liam Neesons’ particular set of skills. If Scorsese had made it, DiCaprio would’ve finally won that Oscar that has eluded him more than the Schlieffen Plan. It is simply surreal.

Oddly enough, when it was first released, the film failed to gain viewer attention as it did not appeal to the uncultured minds of the era.

Furthermore, it has since been swept under the rug and deemed by many critics as savagely unimportant. I should also note that slasher films generally garner a considerable cult

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following, allowing them to be quite lucrative at the box office and in DVD sales, more so than they should be.

Separating this slasher from the rest is the complexity of its plot, which rivals that of a psychological thriller such as Silence of the Lambs, and the intricate structure of its screenplay, easily resembling the brilliance of Fargo, There Will Be Blood, or Pulp Fiction, films often praised for their achievement in writing. Additionally, it has great original one-liners such as, “May the odds be ever in your favor,” and, “I volunteer,” which if you ask me is a shout out to the self-less, free-labor workforce of America. What else? Two people died during the making of this film. That has got to be a cool fact to mull over while watching a motion picture.

Basically, if you die without having seen this film, you’ll be irrelevant. You’ll also be in the same boat as the two people who died during the making if this film. Halloween is the perfect excuse. No need to crawl out of your mother’s basement to get your hands on this movie either. It should be on that fascist enterprise known as ‘the internet.’ Ahhh, now I remember. The ever elusive title of this hybrid miracle is The Hunger Games, a documentary filmed in the active war zones of Sierra Leone.

LUCID FALLACIES IS A PIECE OF SATIRE

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