Published Travel Report for The Union Weekly, LA

ISSUE 68.02 KEVIN O’BRIEN

kevinob.union@gmail.com

Editor-in-Chief

ANDY KNEIS

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Managing Editor

CLAY COOPER

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Managing Editor

CHELSEA STEVENS

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Opinions Editor

NOAH KELLY

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Campus Director

KATY PARKER

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Literature Editor

MARCO BELTRAN

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Entertainment Editor

KEVIN-SENT A LETTER LIKE NOTHING ELSE

MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN merm.union@gmail.com Music Editor

CHRIS FABELA

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LEO PORTUGAL

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Comics Editor Culture Editor

JEFF BRIDGES

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CLAY COOPER

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Actor, Grunion Editor

Art Director/Cover

GABE FERREIRA

Assistant Art Director/Cover

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JEFF CHANG

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CONNOR O’BRIEN

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Head Illustrator Photo Editor/Cover

CHRIS FABELA

On-Campus Distribution

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ANDY KNEIS

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STEVE BESSETTE

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Web Editor

Advertising Executive Contributors:

MIKE PALLOTTA, PARKER CHALMERS, MATTHEW TOWLES, BRYAN WALTON, JAMIE KARSON, COLLEEN BROWN, FOLASHADE ALFORD, DEVIN O’NEIL, STEPHANIE HERNANDEZ, SOPHI MAISE, STEPHANIE PEREZ, JEFF BAER, COREY LEIS, MARY FUHRMAN, DEBORAH ROWE, ALLISON O’DELL, JACKIE ROSAS, PATRICK MCNALLY, ADRIENNE SHULTZ, ALISON ERNST, LISA VAN WIJK, JANTZEN PEAKE, RICHARD LEVINSON, NICOLE STREET, JESSICA MEISELS, KELSEY WEHSELS, JACKIE ROSAS, TANNER PARKER, KEVIN JORGE-CRUZ, CHRIS PAGE, MICHAEL IACOUCCI, JILLIAN WOLF, DANIEL PEREZ, VINCENT CHAVEZ, MONICA HOLMES, BRANDON STUHL, CHRISTINA MOTT, SHANE RUSING, KEVIN NICHOLSON, CHELSEA HOBBY, SARA HATAKEYAMA, KATIE BROWN, DANIEL SERRANO, JORDAN MAEVE, CHRIS COLEMAN, MARLON DELEON, ALLISON HUITT, JILLIAN THOMAN

Disclaimer and Publication Information

The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of the writer, and are not necessarily the opinions of the Union Weekly, ASI, or of CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff.

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Questions? Comments?

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R

KEVIN O’BRIEN EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

ight outside of Long Beach and just within Orange County lays the normally sheltered suburban cove of Rossmoor. Still unincorporated, it is a community between two cities and as such is totally dependent on the infrastructure of its neighbors, including police services. This affluent, gentrified, and ultimately hapless neighborhood is where my family and I have lived for the entirety of my life and, as of last Saturday night, was the scene of a crime. A member of my family had many thousands of dollars of equipment stolen from them.

This week’s feature is an interview with Josh Raskin the artist behind the band Kids and Explosions. The focus of the interview and the thrust of the article is an examination of the continuingly controversial practice that is sampling copyrighted music. The act is considered copyright infringement and is often likened to theft.

During the course of this issue’s pro-

Photo

JILLIAN THOMAN CONTRIBUTOR

duction I was forced to lay parallel the rage that I felt towards the individuals who robbed my family member, alongside my indifference towards the record companies who argue that they too are the victims of theft. Furthermore, the theft that my family member suffered, flagrant as it was, was an isolated incident, while the theft described by said record companies is constant and seemingly unable to be meaningfully prevented or prosecutable. The reconciliation of my contradictory emotional positions on the two separate, but undeniably analogues examples of theft is challenging.

Within the Union Weekly office, the debate over sampling split between an argument focusing on the fiscal ramifications on the record companies and the artists and another that focused on the potentially overreaching limits on the American people’s creative freedoms.

While I favored the latter argument, having to do with creativity, I cannot deny

ALISON ERNST UNION STAFFER

As much as you guys love cuddling up to your Chem books, wouldn’t you love to cuddle up with a new furry companion? Or two? This week I met the adorably dynamic duo, Diego and Opal. These are two playful goofballs who would enjoy your company and could perhaps further your studies of Chemistry. They are shelter sweethearts who need you to give them a nice, loving home and a face to lick.

Diego is a handsome black and white Pit Bull Terrier Mix and Miss Opal is a cute black and tan Shephard-Boxer mix. Both dogs are gorgeous, muscular, and full of life. Don’t you want two lovable pups to come home to after a

hard day of school and/or work?

These guys are super sweet and affectionate. It is so cute to see them interact with each other, because these dogs are so close to each other and have really bonded in their time at the shelter. And readers, these little guys are even cuter in person! If you want to meet the terrific twosome of Diego and Opal, you can venture down to the Seal Beach Animal Care Center and pay them a visit. They would love to meet you! These cuties along with many other cats and dogs are just waiting for you to adopt them. If you would like more information about the SBACC, you can visit their website, sbacc.org

that it seems too easy to dismiss and marginalize the reality that theft is occurring many, many millions of times.

The issue is with the victim, the dependent variable. I do not live with a record company, I have not seen a record company grow and mature and succeed.

Likewise, I have never felt outrage stemming from exploitation by what I perceive to be mass exploitation at the hands of my family member. That said, the rule of law should apply to everyone equally, family member, musician, and record executive alike, but my sympathies do not.

If you disagree or happen to have your own opinions, photos, illustrations, art, etc. then I encourage you to attend our weekly and open staff meeting, every Friday at 2pm at the Union Weekly office in the USU quad.

Ask Away!

Finished the paper but still have questions or comments? Send them to the editor at kevinob.union@gmail.com!

ADOPT

OR

DIEGO

O PA L

or give them a call at (562) 430-4993.

The SBACC is open seven days a week, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 1pm to 5pm, and Tuesdays and Thursdays from 2pm to 4pm. The SBACC is also open weekends from 11am to 5pm.

Surely you have some time in your busy schedule to come meet your future furry companion, your partner (or partners!) in crime who will help you survive those late night study sessions with the evils of Chem 101. Diego and Opal, along with all their shelter buddies, need you to give them good homes. How can you resist these cute little faces?

UNION WEEKLY

31 JANUARY 2011

OPINIONS

MUSICPINIONS Illustration

CHELSEA STEVENS OPINIONS EDITOR

WAIT, WHAT? WE ALREADY HAVE A MUSIC PAGE? WHOOPS

THE SANCTITY OF MUSIC CHELSEA STEVENS MUSICPINIONS EDITOR

M

usic is one of the hardest things to have a conversation about without anyone getting their feelings hurt. Put a couple people whose parents love classic rock in a room with a Beatles hater and a Creed fan, and you’ve got yourself a serious shit show. College kids are even worse, because our level of coolness is based on how many obscure bands we know about that we can hold over other people’s heads. Luckily the amount of obscure bands I know about is more or less two, so I don’t have to participate in those conversations often. I don’t fall into the stereotype of music majors who are sometimes painted as music snobs, and I usually don’t give a fuck what people listen to or how they define music as a form of “art.” I hate getting into petty arguments about definitions of things and having exhausting conversations where everyone gets their panties in a bunch. There’s only one thing that ticks me off about today’s music, and unfortunately, it happened to be the topic of this week’s feature.

Purely digital music is something I had little-to-no knowledge about before this week, mostly because the rapidly developing future of this genre is a touchy subject for working musicians.

There’s a whole new universe of music out there, reigned entirely by the quickly UNION WEEKLY

31 JANUARY 2011

advancing and poorly-contained abilities of technology. Whether it’s illegally spreading an album across the internet faster than free samples run out at Costco, or digesting 10 songs from each of the past four decades and shitting them out into an eclectically digital poop, this music is growing so quickly that it’s hard to put any sort of rules on it. Fuck rules, you can’t even give it labels. You know the giant technology monster from that Sony VAIO commercial with Justin Timberlake?

That’s how I see the future of music. A monstrous Transformer of computer parts with Girl Talk at the control panels.

This is where my fear as a musician kicks in. The majority of my personal future, or at least a significant part of its revenue, depends on keeping the music industry tamed and under control. I’m not the kind of kid who wants fame; I don’t play music so I can be a rock star or be the next Trent Reznor. I don’t even want to be part of an obscure rock band some college kid can hold over his friend’s head someday. I play music because it’s fun, it makes me happy, and, if I’m doing my job right, it usually makes other people happy too. I know that’s a pretty unimaginative explanation, but anyone who plays music or has ever heard music live knows what I’m talking about.

Don’t get me wrong, I think the ridiculous things we can do with today’s technology could be the best thing to ever happen to music if we do it right. I’m totally down with the rule of getting one of a band’s songs off FrostWire to give them a little test ride before buying the entire album. But anyone who’s created anything before will understand that it’s hard to release your baby into the world knowing that people are just going to be passing it around without giving you any credit for it. There’s no way pure, original music can survive if that is truly our future.

And that brings me to this whole topic of mash-ups. I am not so much of a bitch to say that mash-up creators aren’t artists.

Honestly, some of the stuff they do is pretty awesome. I just wish they’d do it while giving a little more credit to the people who made their music possible. They literally wouldn’t be able to make what they do if someone else hadn’t created it first. Someone else played that guitar, someone else put years of their life into creating the album they’re using, but they mash it together to make it “their own.”

They’re getting famous from someone else’s work, and on top of it, they’re using that fame to spread the message that it’s cool to not pay for shit because music is the property of the masses and not of its

creator. To me, laying down ’80s guitar riffs under gangster rap is not creating original music. If I take my grandpa’s head and fit it on my grandma’s body and put a little motor in it to make her dance around, I’m not creating a new person. I just made Frankenstein’s dreamy girlfriend.

For me, there will never be anything more raw and inspiring than watching a musician pour out his life through his instrument and into the audience in front of my very eyes. A musician brings their own being into a performance every single time. Their technique, their musical taste, their soul, the entire history of their lives, and their experiences with their instrument determine what they can bust out when they step on stage. No two people on earth can play an instrument the same way. A computer plays it the same every time. A musician can bring me to tears with a single note the way a computer will never, ever be able to.

But is that what truly determines a piece of art to be music, and who the hell am I to say? I’m not. It doesn’t matter.

All I’m saying is I’d really rather play a few weddings and maybe lay down a few tracks for Family Guy than have to turn tricks when I graduate college. Hell, a girl’s gotta dream.

OPINIONS

NO TICKETS, BRO FOLASHADE ALFORD UNION STAFFER

Sophomore year of high school, I had English with Ms. Lawrence. Somebody mentioned they needed to make up some quiz the last week of April. She just scoffed, “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I’m going to Coachella.” This statement was met with Ooh’s and Aah’s from the class. I just sat there feeling unimpressed and a little dumb. The previous semester I had just moved from Texas, I wasn’t keen on anything “Californian.” That night I found the Coachella website and was completely blown away. All these bands that I liked in the same place, it was ridiculous.

Since 2007, I have been so wishy-washy about buying a ticket. I can’t pay all that money upfront! Where am I going to stay?

How am I going to get there? What about other expenses? So once I get to April, I’m

fucked. I end up experiencing all the fun through pictures and videos like some old person trying to relive the glory days. Last year when I heard Jay-Z was headlining Friday, I was beyond ecstatic. Despite what a lot of people said about Blueprint 3, I loved it. Fight me. I was excited about a bunch of other artists too, but it came down to some stupid test that I couldn’t make up. I decided, fine I guess this isn’t the year for me. When I saw the videos of Jay-Z and Beyoncé performing “Young Forever” I died a little, because I LOVE Beyoncé. After seeing that I decided that’s it—2011, I’m going, I have to!

After missing Beyoncé and Jay-Z, the next year is gonna be crazy good.

I was beyond right. When the lineup came out this year all I could think was HOLY SHIT, this is my DREAM festival.

Dude, KANYE WEST. There was no way I wanted to miss this, and between the headliners and other artists, I was going to be beyond satisfied. So I figured, lemme buy my textbooks first and give people a chance to find out if they’re going. That way I can choose who I wanna go with yada yada. No problem.

Last Wednesday, in my religious studies course, some girl is in the seat in front of me with her head cocked. Then I hear her start talking lowly, she’s on her phone.

I’m too tired to care but I picked up some small bits, those being “Oh my God, I’m like so totally sad. I can’t believe Coachella sold out. Such a bummer.” I just sat there thinking, yo, this bitch be lying. When I got home I saw Facebook statuses, tweets, and articles all saying this crazy shit was true.

HOW THE FUCK DID COACHELLA SELL OUT IN FIVE DAYS!? I’m not really mad though, more like amazed. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’m not going but I’ve been reading so many threads.

Some blame fewer tickets for sale, others blame scalpers, and fuck them. I can kinda understand the scalpers bit because there are tons of people selling tickets well above face value. While I have given up, I know there are people still out there desperate for tickets. The passes haven’t even been mailed yet and you have no guarantee your money is going toward tickets that exist. Be careful. All I can say is next year you best believe I’m gonna decide before tickets go on sale whether or not I’m going. I’d rather be alone with some good ass music than not go at all. Coachella 2012, you’re mine.

SOOTHING THE SIX-STRINGED BEAST DANIEL SERRANO

CONTRIBUTOR

I play guitar, and for a while I thought I was pretty good. Early-morning songbirds were muffled by speedy riffs blasting from my Line 6 amp, neighbors regularly treated to the scratchy distortion of my music. I had tamed the six-stringed beast and had no qualms making it known to others.

Drop D tuning? Fuck yeah. I was so metal I shit iron. With my buddy Shawn on the drums we would jam, head banging until our necks were sore. Life was good; then I came to Long Beach.

As a freshman in the dorms I was eager

to meet people, so when a new face asked to hear me play, I gleefully obliged. It was time to show Long Beach how Daniel jammed. I plugged in my axe and went to war. No note on the neck went untouched, every chord I could play, I did. Sure of my success, I turned off my amp, laid down my guitar, and waited for the praise. No such adulation came. In fact, nothing positive was said at all. My audience didn’t like the music. I failed.

Scrambling for answers, I found two.

First, there was nothing special in my

sound. I used to think playing guitar made me unique, a gem of a skill that amazed friend and stranger alike. That’s not true.

It turns out pretty much everyone plays the guitar. Half of the guys in my hall this year can play, and if you think you can’t, you probably can, but just haven’t realized it yet. Second, I wasn’t good at guitar, and that really hit home. I could play metal, but apart from that, I had nothing. Soft rock, blues, jazz, I couldn’t do a single bit of it.

So I picked up an acoustic guitar, and feeling kind of gay, I played it. And the

more I played, the more I liked it. I left metal behind to hone my skills and become a good guitar player, and I’ve improved a lot since then. It was hard stepping out of my comfort zone, but contently nestling up in a cozy spot didn’t get me anywhere.

Now, I strum my acoustic guitar’s metal strings and play any number of styles. I’m not great, but I’ll get there. There is much work to be done before I can claim to have mastered the six strings.

MUSIC IS LIKE ICE CREAM LEO PORTUGAL LITERATURE EDITOR

It is my firmly held belief that people ought to be able do the things they want to do. Want to eat ice cream for breakfast? Do it! Wanna stay up all night watching scary movies and eating ice cream? Do it! Are you a gay couple reading this newspaper together (a very cool and intimate thing for couples to do) and you two want to get married someday? You should be able to.

Similarly, people should be able to listen to the music they want to listen to without being ridiculed and scorned by others.

It deeply bothers me when I hear someone insulting another person’s taste in music. Music is very personal, and it shouldn’t be the kind of thing that gets attacked. People like the music they like because they like it, so just let them like it.

It’s similar to telling someone that his or her hobby is a waste of time. You can have your cool falconry hobby, I just ask you that you leave me to my humble baking of pies.

This is a plea to people who talk down to others based on their musical tastes;

chill out a bit and quit being so rude. Here is my two-step solution to quitting it: first, to wean you off your rudeness, quit being rude to people’s faces for starters (and also around me, because it’s annoying), and second, just quit it. It’s easier than AA. Because really, what’s the big deal if I still love listening to the Spice Girls?

Geez. Just pretend that I put it on my iPod ironically or something and get off my butt already. And it really sucks when you’re all like, “Oh man, this band SUCKS.” That’s

my band that just came up on my iPod shuffle and that’s you who just hurt my feelings. My stupid little shuffle has no screen and I never know what’s going to come next!

Let’s all just let everyone enjoy what they enjoy and everyone can live happier lives. And I’ll have ice cream for breakfast if I feel like it, Mom. Oh, and I hate it when I’m driving and I switch to preset #5 and it’s fucking country music. Mom, quit messing with my presets! I love you though.

UNION WEEKLY

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CULTURE

AROUND THE WORLD CRAZY “FISH OUT OF WATER” SCENARIOS ABOUND AS UNIONITES TRAVEL THE WORLD

IT’S LIKE SEX AND THE CITY 2, WHERE THOSE LADIES WERE IN THE MIDDLE EAST AND ALL KINDS OF FUN THINGS HAPPENED

TRAVELING IS SO BELIZE-Y KATY PARKER

I

ADVENTURER EXTRAORDINAIRE

don’t admire people who brag about going to Italy. To me, anyone with a few thousand dollars and any kind of weird, floppy hat can buy a plane ticket and sit around and eat gelato and pizza in the sun.

That Eat Pray Love lady moaned through a whole third of a book about it, and she’s the complete worst. Sure, vacations are great.

But the most meaningful type of travel, at least in my inconsequential opinion, is travel that makes you just uncomfortable enough to learn something new about yourself or the world.

Therefore, if it is ever possible during your life, I highly recommend existing within the parameters of the country of Belize.

If you’ve never heard of Belize, please find a

map. Find Louisiana, and then look straight down across the Gulf of Mexico, and you should find the cutest little rectangle you’ve ever seen. It’s a very easy place to visit. English is one of their official languages, and US dollars are accepted nearly everywhere. The best part about it is its extreme diversity.

There are dozens of cultures that have maintained a rich presence in the country. There are rain forests, Mayan ruins, underground caves, tiny islands surrounded by turquoise water, small villages, dogs and chickens running around everywhere, toucans, howler monkeys, and plenty more.

You can do anything there — or at least anything that doesn’t involve a comfy hotel room, or sometimes electricity, or running

water, in some cases. You will inevitably have to poop into a hole in the ground. To me, this is meaningful travel. Not the poop part, I mean, but the experience of it all!

I have watched the sun come up from the third-tallest Mayan temple in the world. I have woken up to a gecko in my bed. I have been stranded on a boat with a broken motor in the middle of a river full of crocodiles in the middle of a jungle in the middle of the night without radio or cell phone reception.

I’ve hiked and swam underground to see caves full of skeletons and religious artifacts.

I’ve lost a soccer game to a bunch of barefoot 10-year-olds. I have sat on top of an anthill.

I have pooped into a hole. I am bragging because I get to brag, and also to illustrate that

anyone can do these things. I am an incredibly non-athletic, physically useless shell of a human, and I got to do all this. To me, that is what travel should be. At the very least, it should be learning how much you appreciate taking showers.

I would highly recommend researching travel to Belize, either through school or through Beyond Touring Inc. They offer a number of guided packages designed according to values of eco-tourism. You can interact with people in a tiny village for a few days, observe howler monkeys at an eco-lodge in the middle of a rain forest, or scuba dive along the world’s second largest barrier reef. Travel can be more than eating and shopping, so check it out.

KINDA ROUGHIN’ IT IN THAILAND AN ALL-AMERICAN ROAD TRIP Q: WHAT’S THE CAPITAL OF THAILAND? A: COCK SLAP, SUCKA!

FOLASHADE ALFORD

JESSICA MEISELS

UNION STAFFER

CONTRIBUTOR

After getting off the 20-hour flight from LA to Thailand (which consisted of crying, nausea, squirming awkwardly, going to the bathroom 400 times, begging for water, and pausing to ask the ever-growing agitated Korean businessman next to me how to maneuver such tasks as finding the “on” button for my TV and how to stow my tray), relaxing and sun-baking took a bit of getting used to. I know, it’s a hard knock life. We partied with the only type of boy there is in Thailand: patriotic tattoos, no shirt and crazy eyes galore. Often they would have a fresh bamboo Thai tat, either in a foreign language, or something deep and original such as “carpe diem,” a foot injury from being a jerk and partying sans shoes, or, most commonly, a combo of the two.

In modern vernacular, these types of travellers are known as Australians. A Swedish girl we met put it this way, “Club nice, but party, do not like. All boys look... How you say? Like very much want get laid.” Couldn’t have put it better myself, Paula.

Daily stresses like “Guys! GUYS! Do we sun bake by the pool, or the beach? And do we get crepes for lunch, or after dinner?!

FUCK!” were replaced by our ever-declining state of accommodation. First, 5 star, couldn’t get better. Second? The taxi took 40 minutes to find a jungle, dump us, and left us to trail (FREAKING OUT about lack of internet, phone reception, a crepe stand on call...) for less than 10 minutes when suddenly my UNION WEEKLY

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Q: WHERE’S A NICE PLACE TO BE DEAD? A: A REST STOP.

friend piped up. “Uh...bail?” I was already on the next taxi.

Luckily, we found a spot in peak season that was, well, a hut. Our sheets and towels weren’t changed for a week, and the “shower” was really just a facade for a cold-water tap.

Also, a serious lack of toilet paper.

Somehow we survived this travesty in paradise, and after the road to Phi Phi Island, which was a casual taxi, 7-hour ferry, 3-hour bus, and 1.5-hour ferry away we landed at a place with... just a fan. As in, no air-con. I’ve basically got menopause 50 years early. I am Jewish. Ergo? I DO NOT LIKE THE HEAT. This new state of living was also complemented by a new “shower,” this time a cold tap that dripped over the toilet.

We decided to reward our hard work with a beauty day.

Me: Um, excuse me? What is my skin tone?

Thai Lady: You, miss, oily. Very oily, bad skin.

Me: Oh. Uh, really? ‘Cause I thought— TL: WRONG, MISS. You think wrong.

You nee’ special treatment. No cheap, deluxe package special for bad skin like you. May I suggest miss acne cleanser get rid of you many pimples.

Me: Oh, um, well I was just going to go with this one here— TL: NO MISS NEE’ SPECIAL TREA’MEN. SKIN BAD, VERY VERY BAD! Thailand was lovely.

When I was in the 3rd grade, I found out we were moving to Texas. Not only was I going to some hick state, we were going to drive there from North Carolina. I suppose my parents were trying to be economical and shit, but that trip was ridiculously long.

With this journey came rest stops, which I hated. They are shady as fuck. I remember my parents would just wait in the car while I walked over to the bathroom. There was something ominous about the whole situation. We would always be the only car there and it was the middle of the night. I would pull on the big door to the restroom, and the hinges would scream every time it opened and closed. Sometimes there was no door, which meant there was no warning as someone snuck in behind you and you were about to be murdered until it was too late. And the absence of mirrors didn’t help anything. Awesome. The bathrooms themselves were disgusting. You had to walk en pointe like a ballerina just to try and avoid the dirt. The floors were always soaking wet with some murky liquid I never want to think about. The hardest part was trying to hover over the toilet on my tiny legs so I wouldn’t transfer any kind of germs or diseases that were brewing onto my pristine butt. It was the only time I wished I were a boy.

One night, my dad decided to stop at the creepiest rest stop in the world to

stretch his legs. And yet again, I had to venture to the restrooms alone. As I approached the bathroom I heard buzzing.

I thought it was humming from the large fluorescent lights or maybe a generator. As I opened the door the buzzing grew louder, and when I rounded the corner it was deafening. Then I realized that the sound was coming from one of the stalls. The window closest to it was covered in some black stuff.

When I got closer the black stuff was moving and pulsing. Then I realized it wasn’t just “stuff.” There were fucking flies covering the window, and I didn’t need to open the stall to know there were more inside. In that instant, all the liquid inside my body evaporated and I got the fuck out of that bathroom as fast as I could.

The next day on the road, I had woken up from a nap. I kept my eyes closed so my parents wouldn’t bother me as I laid there. The radio was on and my parents were listening to the news. After listening for about five seconds, a story came on about “The Rest Stop Killer” and all the areas he had struck.

My mind began to spin a wild scenario that there was a dead body in the stall from the night before who was definitely one of his victims. From that point on, I always told my parents I didn’t need to go to bathroom if we were at a rest stop.

Seriously, fuck rest stops. They’re where people go to die.

MASHERS OF THE UNIVERSE

an interview with kids and explosions cut with insights into the future of music

Graphics CLAY COOPER ART DIRECTOR

GABE FERREIRA

ASSISTANT ART DIRECTOR

Intro

K

ANDY KNEIS MANAGING EDITOR

Interview

CONNOR O’BRIEN MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN

PHOTO EDITOR

MUSIC EDITOR

ids and Explosions, aka Josh Raskin, is a Toronto based mash-up artist. He’s one of the more established artists in the genre. He stands out due to his ability to create songs that stand on their own, with peaks, valleys, and some outstanding uplifting moments. If you’ve been living under some kind of soundproof idiot rock, a mashup is when a guy creates a new song by sampling and rearranging bits and pieces from other songs. With the success of Girl Talk and the like, the idea might be a bit over-saturated, and the concept might open up a whole can of worms on the essence of music, art, and life itself, but we’re going to talk about it anyway, okay? Hopefully we can stick to the aspects of sampling and mash-ups that can be discussed and argued, rather than focusing on personal opinion.

Kids and Explosions gives us a fantastic insight into the world of bedroom artists and the outdated system that could threaten their existence. Luckily, he doesn’t seem too worried about any honchos breathing down his neck or anything, so don’t get too worried that the NetCops are going to track you down and put you and your mom in the clink for reading this or downloading the new Girl Talk album. Just know that they want to really, really badly.

Even if you don’t like mash-ups and remixes, it is clear that their existence marks an exciting new time in music where technology is allowing new types of creative expression and making expressing it

easier than ever. This new and possibly scary genre has a lot of boringass implications as well. Along with the creative aspect of sampling and remixing, there is a whole lot of baggage that comes along with the genre in the form of financial and legal restrictions. Don’t worry, though, we’re not going to get all Kevin O’Brien on you here, there’s some interesting stuff going on behind the scenes of your favorite mash-up.

They can be more than just tools to cover up you and your bro’s quiet whimpers after no one came to your party. Just remember, there’s two ways to look at everything. You don’t have to agree with the other side, but in my professional opinion, it’s worth it to understand where they’re coming from.

In the astute words of Kids and Explosions, “People have always been stealing other peoples’ shit and combining it to make new shit.”

This kind of music creation has been happening ever since a caveman was banging sticks together to impress a sexy cavelady, but now with copyright laws and bureaucracy, certain types of creativity are being punished unfairly. So crack open the next page and check out some info about what very well may be the future of music. If you see any record executives walking around, just tell them you’re reading the 49er. That should keep them off the trail.

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MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN MUSIC EDITOR

Whether working on Kids and Explosions projects or film, Josh Raskin draws on memory for inspiration “Just in terms of being inspired by things, and then creating something in a new world. I like to take things that inspire me and put them in my new thing. I do that with film or animation or music, and I guess the only other thing that my movies and music have in common is that they’re mostly about girls.”

For Kids and Explosions, Raskin was samurai-like in his dedication to a few key principles, “I wasn’t allowed to manipulate the sound at all. I could slow it down or speed it up, but I couldn’t change the pitch. I don’t know if I’m going to stick with

People have always been stealing other peoples’ shit and combining it to make new shit. those rules, but I’m definitely going to push within those rules as hard as I possibly can, and see what I can do.”

“I think the first rule was that everything I sampled had to mean something.

The sound needed to sound different from its original state; it was allowed to be recognizable, to recognize it, but none of the beats are intact, and the rhythms had all changed, and same with melodies. There’s no long sequence of notes, or even full bars that are intact. Everything needed to be changed enough to make it feel like something new. That was a big part of the focus from the beginning—I was really focused on how far you had to push something before it became new. By the end I was really just interested in making songs that I liked.”

In the late ’60s Wendy Carlos completely changed the way people thought

I don’t think anyone minds if you steal from them unless you’re making a lot of money off it, and if that ever happens I’ll be too busy getting body parts replaced with diamonds to worry about lawsuits. about electronic music through her experimentation with the MOOG synthesizer on Switched–On Bach and the A Clockwork Orange soundtrack. Raskin’s work with Kids and Explosions is that next level, and will be remembered as game-changing in the field of sample-based music. “For so long we’ve been in that kind of soul-sample, hip hop, stagnant swamp that it’s gotten stale. It’s fine that people still do it ’cause it sounds good, but I’m glad to see people are taking that format and taking it further, cutting it up more and making it generally harder to listen to. It becomes something new. I think that’s actually the essence of creativity.”

Raskin isn’t some radical lone wolf with these opinions, either. The idea that art and creativity hinge on an open-source-friendly culture is promoted in computer culture, literature, and nearly every other facet of society. As he says, “Any new invention is just combining two things that haven’t been combined before. So without infringing on copyrights, nothing could have ever been invented.” While legal experts like our own Andy Kneis can hash out the finer points of this point, it certainly carries weight. We can see these tendencies in the mash-up, but it is more systemic than that; think about Wikipedia, the overwhelming popularity of movie remakes, and food trucks.

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ANDY KNEIS MANAGING EDITOR

With file-sharing websites an new technology popping up every day, we all are aware of the massive amount of copyright infringement that happens on a daily basis. Also, we probably are all aware of the record labels and the RIAA that are trying their hardest to prevent the file-sharing and are probably reading this right now.

Watching. Always watching.

As of right now, all artists that use samples must clear them with the record label and original creator of the material if they want to be keep their nose clean and stay out of trouble. Unfortunately, if they are like Kids and Explosions or other samplebased artists, they want to use samples that are familiar to the general audience.

Makes sense. The only problem is, these kinds of samples cost an exorbitant amount of money. It’s been calculated that if Girl Talk wanted to clear every damn sample on his entire album, it would cost literally millions of dollars. I assume this figure wouldn’t be much different for Kids and Explosions. For now, artists managed to escape any prosecution by releasing their material for free, but they could be sued

I think it’s great that people don’t want to pay for music anymore. by any number of people for any number of dollars.

The impending doom that awaits Kids and Explosions might make one assume he is a very deliberate, careful young man. When we talked with him, though, we found this isn’t necessarily true. In fact, he seemed pretty comfortable with his situation. When asked about lawyers, he simply replied, “I’m not too worried about that.

I mean first of all I think that using appropriate stuff and making new stuff out of it is a good thing, so I’d be happy to argue that in any court. And beyond that, I don’t think anyone minds if you steal from them unless you’re making a lot of money off it, and if that ever happens I’ll be too busy getting body parts replaced with diamonds to worry about lawsuits.”

What does this mean for the future of samplers and mashers? Now that a majority of music sales aren’t physical purchases, and music is easily created and shared, copyright laws and restrictions feel rather dated. Kids and Explosions considers internet distribution and illegal downloading to be, “The greatest thing to happen to

I think the ultimate challenge will be to be able to create music and say it’s actually relatable in a way that separates from the nostalgia and just the associations with the original songs. music in the last 75 years, or whenever recorded music took off.” While file-sharing is great in that it’s made mislabeled music available to the masses, the fact remains that it is illegal, and it may be preventing some hard-working musicians from getting money they deserve.

Kids and Explosions is optimistic about the future “I’m interested to see what happens, what role labels will play in the future of recorded music, but I’m guessing it will have a lot more to do with concerts and publicity in terms of getting people on the right of the law rather than selling records.”

No matter what your opinion of the music is, the fact that mash-ups and remixes are causing the outdated and often unfair record label system to reevaluate themselves is a positive thing. The power is back in the hands of the artist, and with new genres like mash-up gaining popularity, it seems like only a matter of time before the law is forced to change.

MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN MUSIC EDITOR

When talking with Raskin it is impossible not to catch his infectious excitement over the downfall of the record industry. His thoughts on digital distribution verge on anarchistic, but he isn’t saying these things from a position of a selfish college student running BitTorrent from his dorm room, rather than from a musician with a stake in the outcome. “It’s interesting, I grew up with CDs and tapes and records,”

Any new invention is just combining two things that haven’t been combined before.

So without infringing on copyrights, nothing could have ever been invented.

Raskin says, “and I was always a fan of the physical thing and listening to something from start to finish, and hearing all the songs even if you didn’t like all the songs, but it’s a record and you have to let it play. There’s something amazing about that that I’ll always miss, but for all intents and purposes, that age is gone and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think the fact that anyone can publish their stuff on the internet is the great democratizer of music or any art. You don’t need a record label, you don’t need a lot of money behind you, you just need an idea, and a little bit of time to put something together and put it out there. If people respond to it, it’ll spread around on its own. I think it’s an amazing thing, I think it’s definitely for the best. Overall, I think it’s a step in the right direction. There’s so much music I would never have heard if it

KIDS AND EXPLOSIONS AKA JOSH RASKIN

I’m really focused on how far you have to push something before it becomes new. I’m really just interested in making songs that I like. weren’t for internet distribution and illegal downloads.” Internet distribution right now is going through a weird phase however; MySpace’s courtship of independent artists has largely failed, and Bandcamp.com has been sort of DOA. I asked Raskin if he saw file locker sites like Rapidshare being the dominant source for music in the future. “I don’t know,” Raskin said, “It’s weird, I always felt like the internet was supposed to be uncontrollable madness, and shit flying around in every direction.

Which was kind of awesome, and made a lot of sense at first, and if you’d told me 10 years ago that there would be a website I’d go to every time I wanted to watch a video I would have told you you were full of shit, but then YouTube came out and that’s what people do. It’s totally possible there would be a music network and it just dominates and gets so much momentum that it becomes the only way people do it, but until then I think it’ll just be a million ways to do the same thing basically.”

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CAMPUS

HAPPIER THAN A PIG IN SHIT JASON AULA’S CRUSADE AGAINST ASI NOAH KELLY CAMPUS EDITOR

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s you, dearest reader, may have noticed, perennial, crazy sack of shit Jason Aula is hard at work making sure that no one forgets that he did some stuff with his life, or some such thing.

Aula, who isn’t currently enrolled as a student here (we checked, Enrollment Services verified this fact) has been acting as a “spokesperson” for an anonymous group demanding for the recall election of current ASI elected brass. The method with which Aula and the “anonymous group” are going about this endeavor is circulating a petition that, if getting 15% of the student body to sign (and verify), will enact a special election for the ASI positions. One of the most rolleye moments of this endeavor is the fact that the ASI elections will be held in the next month or so anyway, which would make a special election essentially pointless.

Another interesting bit of information is that one of Aula’s cronies, “Haley Nail” (as the Daily 49er reports, a junior sports management major) isn’t even in the system according to Enrollment Services. No one by the last name of Nail and first name resembling Haley is in the system, at all. The funny part about this isn’t a possible misspelling, or lack of fact checking on the Daily 49er (God knows we’re incredibly lax in that department ourselves), it’s the fact that anyone can organize a petition to start an unnecessary special election under CSULB’s ASI bylaws. So yes, Aula can, until ASI decides to rectify this stupid technicality, perpetually start petitions every semester, every year in

LISA VAN WIJK UNION STAFFER

his effort to not be sucked into the vortex known as obscurity.

This obnoxious display of temper tantrum-ing and grandstanding is just a small entry in the list of obnoxious things such as inviting racist, or homophobic speakers to campus like Jim Gilchrest (co-founder of the Minutemen) and George “Brother Jed” Smock (a notable campus trawling bigot and evangelist), filing a libel suit against someone who called him an internet troll, or crying foul at last year’s ASI elections because he lost an arguably pointless election (for real, they have a column on my page and I still haven’t sussed out what exactly ASI elected officials do). You can easily peruse the various stunts Aula has performed to get himself quoted in the Daily 49er archives, which is humorous because when the 49er prints a critical article about him (like how he lied about achievements on a scholarship application), he’s the first one to sneak around at night and throw them away: last year Aula walked into our office and “wink wink nudge nudge” implicated an ASI senator and himself in such affairs.

The icing on the shithead cake has to be the “anonymous group’s” blogspot title, “ASI Order 66.” For those of you who aren’t fucking dorks: Order 66 is a Star Wars reference to the extermination of Jedi, which is tantamount to extremely nerdy genocide. Amidst the recent events in Arizona, debates on political discourse, and the President of the United States making a speech on charged political rhetoric; the fact that Aula chose to

use a term to serve his cause, that is lackluster and hyperbolic at best, is incredibly self-absorbed and vapid. Aula are you using a Star Wars reference because you wanted to hide your ill-conceived intentions, or was it because you couldn’t think of a word that a conservative talking-head hadn’t already used? Here’s a suggestion, try pogrom next. You’ll thank me after you go look it up on Wikipedia.

Aula, you will die alone, unloved and confused as to why your life has affected absolutely no one in any measurable or lasting way.

We here at the Union take comfort that this will be the last time you ever pollute our pages, unless of course you write us another rambling, and unsolicited, email about how you’re not a racist and your enthusiasm for smoking pot on 4/20. Feel free to do that again, we are always down for a good chuckle at your expense.

Or you can send me a libel suit, you seem pretty fond of doing that kind of thing. I’ll enjoy reading your ineffectual wails of no fair.

WEEK OF WELCOME PART DEUX WELCOME TO THE WEEK OF WELCOME—AGAIN COLLEEN BROWN UNION STAFFER

It’s another semester, and I know that you are ridiculously excited about spending $3000 on classes you won’t even be going to and textbooks you’ll never use! Who wouldn’t be? But seriously, there must be some reason you came back for another round of “higher learning,” right? My guess is that you either found the people who make your painful lack of sleep worthwhile, or discovered a place where you feel like you belong and can express yourself. Or maybe you’re considering dropping out right now with your synth keyboard (your solo project is totally going to take off, man) and you’re looking to see if there are any reasons to stay.

There are. This week brings you yet another Week of Welcome, with a host of opUNION WEEKLY

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portunities for you to get involved. It all starts Tuesday, February 1st, with an Associated Students, Inc. information day which will take place in the Southwest Terrace of the University Student Union from 11am until 1pm. Many of the different sections that comprise ASI will be there to talk to you and answer questions about how to get involved at CSULB. They do a lot for our student body, so check them out Tuesday or go to csulb.edu/asi.

Then Wednesday and Thursday the Student Organization Fair rolls in bringing representatives from many of Cal State Long Beach’s clubs and organizations to you.

There are over 300 clubs on campus, so you should be able to find one that suits you.

In a cursory Google search of “csulb clubs” I’ve come up with Anime Club, Salsa Club (which I was only slightly disappointed to find out is about dancing and not eating), Film Club, Gaming Club, Paintball Club, and even something about a backwards triathlon, whatever that is. Peruse all the organizations’ tables from 11am to 2pm on the Commencement Lawn this week on February 2nd and 3rd.

There really is no reason not to check something out this week that might interest you. But really, you already know that, because you were either smart enough to do it last semester, or you didn’t do anything last fall and were miserable. Don’t lie. Just get up and get involved.

TUESDAY 11AM - 1PM ASI INFORMATION DAY SOUTHWEST TERRACE USU WEDNESDAY / THURSDAY 11AM - 2PM STUDENT ORG FAIR COMMENCEMENT LAWN FRIDAY WHY ARE YOU EVEN ON CAMPUS?

CAMPUS STATE OF THE BEACH

YOUR WEEKLY CAMPUS NEWS IN BRIEF MIKE PALLOTTA UNION STAFFER

Here’s the news for the week. I love you.

Confucius say there’s an event at the Art Galleries on campus showcasing students who studied abroad in China last semester. Featuring the sculptures of Michael Wilde, the photography of Karen Utley, “Above & Beyond” (125pm) ends this Thursday, Feb. 3rd. If you go between buildings FA2 and FA3, then there you will be there. 8 24 12 9 17, 7.

If you’re a fan of sweaty women grunting as they smack fuzzy balls back and forth then be sure to intrude upon Cal State Fullerton’s campus at 1:30pm. It’s a tennis game—with women playing. Make sure to bring this copy of the Union and litter it wherever you want.

This Friday night at 7pm, head on over to the Pyramid to watch the future PE teachers play ball as our Women’s Basketball team takes on Seattle University. Is there a Clippers game on that night? That’ll probably be just as good.

Rhyme-sayers and appreciators, start your Saturday off right at the Slam Poetry Regionals! Make sure to set your alarm for the crack of 9am then brush your teeth, wash your ass, and drive on down to Fullerton for some of the freshest lines of poetry your eardrums have ever received. While you’re there make sure to root for CSULB’s A-Team of Slam-Bam-Thank-YouMa’am Poets: Mae Ramirez (the brains), Nate Musser (the muscles), Josef Lemoine (the techsavvy one), and Courtney Klink (the redhead).

The four will take on other schools’ teams in a metaphorical cataclysm of cosmic proportions and literal poetry performance. Do whatever you have to show your support: snap your fingers, grow your beards, adjust your black turtlenecks, spit your sunflower seeds, muffle your farts, anything that shows your love .

And finally, this week is WOW, the Week of Welcome. Want to get involved with a club or campus organization? Then enter the gauntlet of tables at WOW, where frats, sororities, ethnic groups and sailing all vie for your attention, looking to unload flyers, school supplies, key chains, basically stupid free shit. Actually, WOW sucks.

If you’re anything like me, you have no desire to join any frat or club, ’cause you’re at CSULB not USC, but you do need pencils. So make sure to stop by the Week of Welcome tables and feign interest in Judaism for a pencil, pretend like some dude’s frat shirt is cool to get a free bag of chips, fake laugh at some Anime chick’s joke about Naruto to get some candy. But don’t forget to kick over the table before you run off to class. Or go home. Fuck school.

CSUF-YOU

MEN’S BASKETBALL HANDLE FULLERTON TITANS LIKE OLYMPIANS ALLISON HUITT CONTRIBUTOR

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JILLIAN THOMAN

CONTRIBUTOR

With the third largest crowd in CSULB history, the rivalry game against CSUF on Saturday proved to be one worth attending. No, seriously, we dominated.

Fullerton scared the crowd in the beginning, actually leading 10-0 in the first five minutes of the game. But, thanks to Forward Eugene Phelps, we scored our first couple of points, and eventually gained back the lead, reassuring the anxious 49ers in the crowd.

We not only led in points, but in poster creativity, the level of fan excitement, and pretty much just being badass in general. The pathetic patch of orange and blue in the corner had nothing on our sea of black and yellow (honestly guys, how hard is it to find a gold shirt?). Every chant of, “Let’s go Titans!” was drowned out by an effective, if not clever retort of, “Go home Titans!” By halftime, we were up 33-25, but the game was still too close to predict so soon.

Half time was fairly standard—complete with a miniature basketball game, a lovely dance number, and Chick-fil-A sandwiches being chucked at the ravenous crowd. Like, literally thrown. There were 5,040 audience members fighting for delicious chicken sandwiches. The scene was all sorts of bizarre and sketchy.

The second half was just as enthusiastic as the first, if not more. Black and yellow balloon sticks were passed around the crowd, who thought they functioned better as hats than what they were originally intended for. The Titans fouled abundantly in the second half, and also decided to forget the fact that they needed to dribble the ball as they ran with it. The number of times they were called for traveling was greater than the number of Fullerton fans present.

The 49ers pulled further ahead as the game continued, ending with a final score of 75-60. The Long Beach State boys proved to be the better of the two rivals, and gave the school more fuel to trash talk the CSUF Titans.

CSULB SLAM POETRY TEAM MAKES REGIONALS NEWS IN VERSE, KEEPING IT TERSE MAE RAMIREZ CONTRIBUTOR

UFC of Poetry Courtney Klink, Joe Lemoine, Nate Musser, Mae Ramirez We’ve got pockets full of pencil shavings and we use our words as fists.

On Saturday, February 5th from 10 am til 1pm, we will gallantly defend our title as Region 15 Slam Poetry Champions.

We will open up our ribcages, twelve bones at a time and stuff the CSU Fullerton Titan Student Union full of metaphors and similes, Chewbacca roars and yard sales, confetti drums and silly string, rainy days and bus rides, bunny food and jelly beans.

We will spit 3-minute poems like peace treaties, sway fuzzy in the wind with static electricity, stumble slurring into your Venus Flytrap arms, and sweat like Corona bottles only ‘cause we’ve got lava running through our veins when the other teams have cherry Kool-aid.

You will show up. You will snap your fingers when you hear a line so good you wish you wrote it yourself. You will jump feverishly on chairs.

Monarch butterflies will shake from the trees and fly loop-de-loops, sky-writing our name in cursive: the CSULB Slam Poetry Team.

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MUSIC

NON-MASH UP RELATED REVIEWS EARLY 2011 HITS AND MISSES

KIDS & EXPLOSIONS: SHIT COMPUTER

MICHAEL MERMELSTEIN UNION STAFFER

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hocker, I love this album. I know, right? After hearing Kids and Explosions mastermind Josh Raskin talk about everything from copyright law to MySpace, you might be wondering why we chose to spotlight his work. The answer is that Shit Computer is a giant leap for digital music. Unlike Girl Talk, The Hood Internet, or any other artist working in mash ups, Kids and Explosions is seriously chopped up and re-purposed. Its best to think of Kids and Explosions in the frame work of Arcade Fire, he makes uplifting nostalgic music drawing off of our collective memory of pop music to create emotional resonances.

On intro track “Everything,” Kids and Explosions twists and tortures Eminem’s voice over the drums from “We Will Rock You” and the guitar from “Sweet Child of Mine,” creating a uniquely down-beat, introspective song for the mash up genre. Throughout Shit Computer, Kids and Explosions keeps riffing on this theme, drawing off of slow songs and club bangers to create fresh sounding music.

On “Swear Words,” Raskin draws from all over Top–40 for expletives, which he puts over a gentle Iron and Wine track, resulting in one of the most iconic moments of the album. Most bizarrely on “Use Your Words” Kids and Explosions calls up rap’s most Muppet like character Old Dirty Bastard, and puts it to a sweet little song from Emily Haines, creating an almost operatic feel to rap’s lategreat prankster’s voice. Kids and Explosions isn’t going to be working huge crowds into a sweaty mess anytime soon, but his contributions to his art go way further then Coachelly.

That being said, I can’t wait till Kids and Explosions hits the road this summer and brings his uplifting tunes and awesome projector work to Southern California.

THEDECEMBERISTS: THE KING IS DEAD SEAN BOULGER UNION STAFFER

So I guess the Decemberists have decided to take it down a notch, conceptually speaking. After toying with the song cycle idea and a loose narrative on The Crane Wife and going straight-up rock UNION WEEKLY

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opera on The Hazards of Love, Colin and Co. break from the unified concept album with a loose LP of airy alt-rock, Decemberists style LOL. Seriously, though, it’s just that. An alt-country record as made by the Decemberists, and it’s exactly what that sounds like it’d be. Is it enjoyable? Absolutely. Good? Definitely. There are standout tracks, and there are boring tracks, but on the whole, the album is just about as underwhelming as it seems.

The King is Dead is maybe the only Decemberists album that doesn’t feature songs about death by plague, suicide pacts, or wharf skank moms, and as such, succeeds in being their most positivelythemed album. This sentiment is echoed in their upbeat, country/rock leanings; the band seems to channel Neil Young by way of R.E.M. (unsurprising, as Peter Buck guests on leadoff single “Down by the Water”). The Decemberists, however, don’t fare as well when they lean away from their more sonically complex tendencies. There are banjoes and acoustic guitars aplenty here, but the band’s darker and more dense arrangements suit the ear a lot better­—some of these songs are just boring, which is a shame.

While the album exhibits its fare share of excellent songs (“Rox in the Box” is a throwback jam, “This Is Why We Fight” stands out as well), it’s a shame in that it’s underwhelming: the result of change that wasn’t necessarily being demanded in the first place.

THE SMITH WESTERNS: DYE IT BLONDE STEVE BESSETTE UNION STAFFER

The Smith Westerns Dye It Blonde is one of those albums that sounds better on a good day. Like your boss gave you a pat on the back for not fucking up any payroll stuff and now you’re free to sit in mediocre traffic and bob your head in a semi-mellow, but still sort of rockin’ way. The layers differ and meld together pretty nicely, from simple drum beats mixed with the tap-tap of a tambourine to smooth acoustic guitar wrapped with surf-like notes of electric guitar. Some of the best parts of the album are the breakdowns of Casio keyboard that burst into that beautifully layered rumpus of feel-good. Third track “Imagine Part 3,” makes it almost impossible not to get caught up in the beat or

pretend to play piano on your desk. Its peaks, valleys, and regular tempo changes (as well as a bitchin’ ending drum solo) makes it an early high point for this record. Definitely put this one on a friend’s mix CD. Many times it gets almost spacey or weightless, which is great. I think what solidifies that is lead singer’s clean voice being sung through some light reverb (maybe more heavily on “All Die Young”) that is just barely drowned out by the wall of tunes. This means unless you’re really good at picking out lyrics, it’ll take a few listens to really listen in. It sounds like they weren’t able to deny some inspiration from recent eras too. There’s a few ’70s/’80s sounding clean-fuzz guitar solos (think Queen), their songs are frequently visited by smooth rock keyboarding (think shitty Paul McCartney in Wings), and some vocal passages that would make Sub Pop records proud.

Overall this Chicago based group’s second album is far from boring or average.

Its indie folk-rock cauldron combines multiple genres from surf rock to Beatlesera pop to their own signature modern indie spices. It’s rich, it’s full, and it can only get better after your first listen.

TAPES AND TAPES: OUTSIDE SEAN BOULGER UNION STAFFER

Having skipped Walk It Off, the excellently-titled sophomore album from Minnesota’s Tapes ‘n Tapes, I was excited to give their newest release a listen. Outside, the group’s third album, was produced by band member Erik Appelwick — this was a factor that drew me back for the third album, and whose absence kept me away from the second. Overall, negative feedback was plentiful for that second release, and even though Outside had received a lukewarm reception as far as I was aware, when I gave it my first listen I was thoroughly enjoying it.

Granted, it was the kind of album whose song titles took more than just a few listens to learn, but every time I put it on, I certainly found myself enjoying it.

Opener “Badaboom” kicks the album off with a drum line that is as propulsive as it is minimalistic, but the main reason I kept returning to the album was because I knew I would be reviewing it. At one

point, I tried to figure out what it was that I didn’t like about the album ­­­­— what kind of criticism could I offer other than it was just…kinda boring?

This all changed when I put on The Loon. After hearing Tapes ‘n Tapes’ first release, all I could think about Outside was “Fuck this album.” It had been at least a couple of years since I had given Tapes ‘n Tapes a listen, and as soon as I revisited their debut, I was immediately and painfully aware of the raw, raucous energy that had been on display before. While Outside is an album of pleasant indie rock, it is painfully so, and at the cost of all the attitude and balls The Loon boasted…shame to say that Tapes ‘n Tapes might just be a one hit wonder after all.

TEEN DAZE: MY BEDROOM FLOOR CONNOR O’BRIEN PHOTO EDITOR

I’m not a big fan of electronic music, but when I listened to “Keep the Girls Away,” the first song on the album, I was reeled in.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album doesn’t compare to the first song, and has a fairly average electronic, ambient, pop feel. If you are into repetitious synth and overused Audacity drum beats, this is the band for you.

This sounds real snobby, sorry. The second song was pretty interesting I guess, but the more I think about each song I listened to, the more I get bored.

I suppose I would feel different about this album if I was at a dance or something, but I am not able to sit down, relax, and enjoy this. I just can’t invest all my attention into this album, as I would with albums from my favorite bands. The first song possesses something that the rest of the songs don’t: vocals and more variety. I’m not saying those factors are the reason the first song is better than the rest, but they do set it apart from the others. I find the beginning of each song to be interesting, but once the same thing is repeated for three minutes, the song loses its appeal.

Whenever I get new music, I put the full album on my iPod and listen to it as a whole. For this band, each song should be listened to separately from one another.

“Keep the Girls Away” will be the only Teen Daze song occupying my iPod. If you are into electronic music, you will probably like this album, but I’m not, so I don’t.

[Editors Note: This album owns.]

ENTERTAINMENT

Waiting for Tom HansEn

ROMANCE Movies Ruined my Romantic expectations ALISON ERNST

I

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am just starting to realize how unrealistically high my expectations are when it comes to potential suitors. On the surface, I expect guys to dress well, have similar tastes in music, and be intellectuals.

This may not seem like much, but it goes further than things I could list off in this article. Guys like Tom Hansen from (500) Days of Summer and Patrick (aka Heath Ledger) in 10 Things I Hate About You give girls like me incredibly high expectations of guys that just can’t stand in the real world.

It hit me the other day that perhaps I won’t find Tom Hansen so I will have to settle for someone who actually exists.

Obviously the movies aren’t real, but movies give girls this false sense of reality where guys ALWAYS do the cute romantic thing at the PERFECT time. Movies are experts at depicting life while simultane-

Connor O’brien Photo Editor

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ously failing at showing reality. The guy doesn’t always get the girl. Sometimes the girl is really unattainable and the guy has no chance in the first place. But movies give people (more specifically, nerds) hope that someday maybe that one person will fall in love with them. And that always makes me wonder why that one person was so attractive in the first place. Would you really want someone if they thought you weird or nerdy or unappealing? Personally when someone doesn’t reciprocate feelings, I hide and avoid that person at all costs.

At 18-years-old, I am beginning to think that I should just never watch any romantic comedies or movies with any romance at all, because it’s unachievable.

There’s this idea of the “perfect moment” that, at least to me, doesn’t exist out of the realm of movies. I waited over 16 years

CHELSEA STEVENS MUSICPINIONS Editor

for that “perfect kiss,” which was still awkward. No one is as smooth or suave as those Hollywood actors who could pull off a fall looking graceful. Or be Natalie Portman and make people like you even more after an intensely goofy laugh.

I do feel bad for guys, growing up in the age of Twilight (which is absolutely horrible; if you don’t know what that is, that is even better, don’t go see/read it) and other movies, because girls expect everything to be perfect and if it were in real life, the guy could totally be perceived as a stalker. There are some things in movies that should never be repeated. In Say Anything, there is that adorable scene with Lloyd (aka John Cusack) in his trench coat with his boombox, waiting for Diane. In reality, if I had a guy at my bedroom window in a trench with his boombox, I feel

that first, my parents and neighbors would get upset and second, it would be slightly creepy, borderline stalker-ish. But it works in the movies, girls fawn over John Cusack’s character the same way they fawn over Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You and Joseph-Gordon Levitt in (500) Days of Summer.

In reality, guys have a choice. You have two options: to be realistic and be yourself (which may or may not get you the girl, but I’ll be rooting for you!) or go big like the movies (and run the risk of being perceived as a stalker). Just bear in mind that what looks cute onscreen transfers differently to the real world. I know I will never find myself a perfect Tom HansEn, but I know I will find someone who is just as amazing and endearing when he is just himself.

poetry, and whatever else we can fit into this event, which is called Chrysalis (the production of Bug will be the “headliner”). The focus of this event is to pose questions and raise awareness about things we may not think about on a quotidian basis.

So what does that mean for you, dear readers? Why is this article on the entertainment page? Firstly, this is an advertisement for our show, which is sure to be entertaining (There! Justified). It will run the 24th, 25th, and 26th of March at the Expo here in Long Beach. Secondly, we want you to be a part of it! We’re holding auditions for roles in Bug and several of the original pieces featured.

The auditions are taking place on February 3 and 4 at 7pm, in room 133 of the Theatre Arts building. Prepare a 1-2 minute contemporary monologue or come to show off your movement and dance skills.

We’re not interested in meeting only actors, however. Artists of every ilk are welcome and encouraged to come to the auditions. Bring your work, bring yourselves, bring your positivity. As I said, we’re looking to grow our family to help bring the many healing qualities of art to our community.

This may read as terribly quixotic, and to that I say: hell yes! In order to get somewhere, you’ve got to reach. We’re reaching and we want you there with us.

GROWING A FAMILY

new theatrE collective in lb Corey LEIS UNION STAFFER

There is a group of artists on our campus that feels now is the time to make something happen. Something amazing. Now is the time to transcend the cozy boundaries of CSULB, a place that has helped us nurture our craft and spark our thirst for knowledge, to cultivate a community of trust and creativity in the “real world.” The name of this group is the White Lotus Collective. Primarily consisting of theatre artists, the White Lotus Collective is following in the footsteps of such groups as Alive Theatre and the Garage Theatre, both active companies born out of the Theatre Arts department here at CSULB. However, this particular group, or collective, is not limiting itself to theatre. Its members feel that theatre is the most immediate, visceral way to reach the public, but all art, whether it’s visual, literary, musical, or everything in between, has the potential to

promote healing and enlightenment. In order to affect this sort of reaction, questions must be raised.

This article’s writer would be a dishonest man if he didn’t make it clear to his valued readers that he is a part of this collective.

This article’s intended purpose is to pique the interest of all creative and yearning minds on our campus. Part of our mission is to help unite the artists in our community, on and off campus. To that end, we are putting on a production of Bug, a play by Tracy Letts that explores themes of conspiracy, paranoia, perceptions of reality, and the idea that maybe there is more to everything than meets the eye. In conjunction with this play, we’re bringing to life an arts event that will feature all original work, ranging from short scenes, monologues, movement and dance pieces, music, visual art, spoken word and

Auditions for Chrysalis: February 3 & 4 in Room 133 of the Theatre Arts building at 7pm Send all inquires to: whitelotuscollective@hotmail.com

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31 JANUARY 2011

LITERATURE

MY LITERARY CRUSH IT’S OKAY TO HAVE ONE. . . JUST WATCH OUT FOR PAPER CUTS FRANNY GLASS

COREY LEIS

F

UNION STAFFER

rom behind the comfort of her untouched chicken sandwich, she confesses, “I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody.” As she says this I melt. Oh, Franny Glass, you’ll never be a nobody in my world, even if you had all the courage of Hercules.

Before I’d read Franny and Zooey, I liked the two-story volume simply by virtue of its being written by J.D. Salinger. The Catcher in the Rye is a fine novel, but it’s certainly not Salinger’s best work. Nine Stories, a collection

DEVIN O’NEILL UNION STAFFER

CONTRIBUTOR

CONTRIBUTOR

UNION WEEKLY

desire is a big part of my life. Her familiarity with the pull and fire of sexuality is refreshing, and it feels like home, like an expression of something I feel constantly seething beneath our carefully managed social reality. I’m addicted to honesty, particularly honesty about sex. I have a deep suspicion that many of our benign behaviors are driven by our wetter desires, and she feeds my suspicions. Or, at least, makes me feel like less of a pervert.

Death and trauma also cut us to the core

as anxious animals, and she deals with them too. She just piles on the magic. Her film script for Hiroshima Mon Amour combines sex, romance, memory, and post-H-bomb trauma into a thermonuclear orgy of aching nostalgia. Yes, the horrifyingly blasted emotional wasteland of the Second World War can be sexy. She will show you how.

In The Ravishing of Lol Stein, she complicates our home desires further — she uses her dizzyingly vivid rendering of a love

triangle to argue that we only want things that are wanted by other people. Desire is always triangular.

The fact that I’d take horror and trauma in my sex life rather than be even slightly bored may or may not be the proper foundation for healthy, stable relationships, but hey, I only get to live once. I want the spicy lamb vindaloo, not the buttermilk short stack.

Marguerite Duras understands this, and for that I love her.

plays that are savagely raw, unconcealed, and unadulterated. Many of Shanley’s works sit high atop these pillars (along with Stephen Adly Guirgis’, whose I also adore, but I met Shanley’s works first!). I admire that he does not appease lackadaisical filmgoers who wallow in happy endings and predictable heroic finishes. He violently shakes people awake from a self-inflicted slumber, writing in accessible contexts that are driven to (sometimes absurd) extremes.

One of his characters, Austin, the selfproclaimed hero in The Big Funk, meets

Jill, a woman who despises honesty, and he offers to literally wash her pain away by giving her a sponge bath while wearing a suit. After the soul-cleansing, the pair has dinner with Omar and Fifi, a married couple with a 24-hour gestation period. Many of his creative leaps are extraordinary, but all of them are rewarding.

In the last three years I’ve directed selections from three of his earlier plays: Danny and the Deep Blue Sea (1982), Italian American Reconciliation (1986), and The Big Funk (1990)—all written before I was the age of

ten—and years later the pieces are still relevant to and resonant with a college audience.

His characters are timeless because they are not simply characters, but souls wrought with conflicts and dilemmas in unorthodox circumstances that compel you into bouts of self-reflection.

Theatre lives through a communion between the actors and the audience, and successful playwrights are borne from embracing that impression. John Patrick Shanley is one such man, and he continues to write, adapt, and direct for us still today.

characters in absurd situations, and the ways they choose to respond are just as absurd.

For instance, in A Handful of Dust, there is the mother who confuses her son and lover at the most inopportune time and the father who winds up trapped in the jungle reading Dickens novels to a Kurtz-like madman. His look at Hollywood, The Loved One, masks a commentary on America’s need for order and capitalism behind a love story. This sounds normal enough, but the young couple in love works with death. One works at a funeral home for pets, while the other works at a

funeral home for people. It seems unlikely that either story line would work, but Waugh pulls it off, demonstrating his astounding humor and wit.

These two brief examples do no real justice to Waugh’s work. Only by reading his novels firsthand can a person fully appreciate what it is Waugh manages to do and develop his or her own literary crush in the process. So do yourself a favor, read Waugh.

Hell, his first wife was also named Evelyn. That right there proves the guy had a great sense of humor.

EVELYN WAUGH

I have to admit, I have a man crush on Val Kilmer. The guy was amazing in the ‘80s and starred in some of the greatest movies ever made. True, he hasn’t been around much lately, but did you see Willow? He should get an Oscar every year for that. Not to mention Heat; that was a great movie. And Kilmer was a great Doc Holiday. With that confession finished, I need to make one more. I have another man crush, but this one isn’t as weird as my crush on Kilmer, since this guy is dead.

My other man crush is on British author

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opinions on poetry, English departments and their section men, actors and their egos, egos, egos! I love that she’s in the throes of a spiritual crisis, clinging to her dead brother’s pea-green copy of The Way of a Pilgrim, hoping for some sort of reprieve.

I’m running the risk of sounding obsessed, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

Some may find it odd, but I don’t think it’s any different than obsessing over an actor in a movie. I don’t care who knows it. I’m in love with a character in a book.

JOHN PATRICK SHANLEY

Moonstruck. Joe Versus the Volcano.

Doubt. This trio may elicit initial responses of famed actors and performers such as Cher, Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Meryl Streep. I associate all three of these with the man who wrote them—John Patrick Shanley. He is lauded as a great American playwright, screenwriter, and director, but I fell (hard, might I add) for his dramatic texts.

As a Theatre Directing Major with a heterogeneous acting background, I have noticed that I continually gravitate towards

CHRIS COLEMAN

of two starring characters in Franny and Zooey: “no one could have missed seeing that she was a first-class beauty.” Salinger created a veritable literary fantasy for the pretentious English majors who clutch the lapels of their pea-coats, smoking their cigarettes in neurotic vanity, as they wait for their pre-World War II lit seminar to begin, “look[ing] bored, preferably attractively bored.”

I love her sheared-raccoon coat, “her hair, cut fashionably short”; her brash

MARGUERITE DURAS

I’ve always been attracted to sexually experienced women. The unfair social pressure on women to be virginal, pure, never made much sense to me. I want someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing; I want to have new experiences and be initiated into mysteries. And I hate being bored. In the reductive, socially constructed virgin/whore binary, I root for the whore every time.

Marguerite Duras writes about desire, and

MARLON DELEON

of meticulously-crafted stories steeped in quirky imagination, is what spurned my love of Salinger’s writing, prompting me to devour voraciously the rest of his published work.

Salinger is undeniably the most profound influence on my writing, and I attribute my pretension and wordiness directly to him — sleep tight, ya moron!

Salinger, although my favorite writer, is not who I’m in love with, however. No, indeed, I am in love with Franny Glass, the youngest in the line of Glass progeny, and one

31 JANUARY 2011

Evelyn Waugh, and, before you ask, yes, that is his real name.

The stories that Waugh tells are hilarious.

At first glance he may appear to be just another stuffy Brit, ready to bore readers with big words and inane dialogue. Fortunately, that is far from the truth, and Waugh turns out to be an amazing writer who entertains with almost every word. Waugh’s novels deal with different aspects of the human condition: love, death, pride, and envy, but he approaches each with a sense of sarcasm and dark humor. In doing so, Waugh places his

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31 JANUARY 2011

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ANSWERS

Think you can do better?

Want to become a part of this madness?

Send comics or compliments to cfab.union@gmail.com

EASY

HARD

HEAD ILLUSTRATOR

JEFF CHANG

MERM LIKES THIS TERRIBLE TWOS CEPHALOPODA

UNION STAFFER

PJ KNEISEL

CONTRIBUTOR

JORDAN-MAEVE

COMICS

Disclaimer:

This page is satire. We are not ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Email any questions, concerns, smart shit, to jeffbridges.grun@gmail.com, then go to hell.

Volume 68 Issue 2

Monday, January 31st, 2011

CONGRATULATION

BY JEFF BRIDGES, ACTOR We ’ v e been through quite a lot here at the Grunion basement. We’ve had some laughs, and maybe learned a few horrible things along the way. We were enjoying our success with a huge party when one of our own, Brad Blueberry, was murdered. Luckily, we liked him least. Still, justice must be served. We implored our readers to track down the murderer, but nobody cared. All hope was lost until one loyal Facebook girl came to the rescue. With her beautiful brain, she discovered the murderer to be Culture Editor Leo Portugal.

It was pretty obvious. Thank you to Cassie Stiftl for finally bringing Brad Blueberry’s vengeful and frankly pretty smelly ghost peace. Sorry about all the consonants in your name. Condolences.

We didn’t really feel like punishing Leo for his murder because honestly we didn’t really mind that Brad Blueberry died until his ghost pranked us. But that time is behind us. Time to

move forward. Prize Time!!!

Cassie, your valiant deed will be thus: I, Jeff Acty Bridges, Actor, will now be your Facebook man-slave. I’ll post anything you want me to.

Anytime. Anything. Any page. Check your messages soon for a message from me and a couple tastefully shot nude pics.

Readers (you) may also be noticing that I am now talking more similarly to a human these days. Well, Brad Blueberry’s death and subsequent (big word I know) haunting has caused me to really think about who I am and what I’m doing with this page. Since we’re in college, I decided to devote this page to higher education. I hope you hated our jokes as much as I did, because this page is now about learning and the human condition possibly.

Please welcome our newest addition to our Grunion family, Professor Egbert Cromwell, Ph.D. He’s smart and will certainly contribute to our classy new page.

Hopefully no one murders him. Indubitably.

LBUNION.COM

Sadistic Scientist Creates Hot Pocket Centipede. WARNING: Graphic Content

BY EGBERT CROMWELL, Ph.D. In an act that has caused disgust among all humans, the twisted and sick scientist Sven Kvelertak has created a Hot Pocket Centipede. Inspired by the scientifically accurate film Human Centipede, Kvelertak has surgically fused three Hot Pockets together to create an abomination.

You’ll have to excuse the editorial slant, but the world must know the extent of this atrocity. Police were called on the scene at Kvelertak’s East German home when his unsuspecting wife came upon the Centipede in the freezer when looking for a snack. Policemen held back vomit and tears as they carted off the three violated pocket snacks from the scene. Doctors attempted to separate them, but unfortunately it was too late, and they were gone. May they find some peace in death.

Doctors described the disturbing debacle, “The Hot Pockets were fused together using impeccable surgical technique. The contents of each pocket were allowed to flow freely within the flaky outer pastry.” The doctor removed his glasses dramatically and continued, “It was awful, each Hot Pocket was a different flavor. Ham and Cheese flowed from its original pocket into a Meatball Marinara. And worst of all, the pocket at the end… was… was a breakfast Hot Pocket. There was egg, bacon, cheese,

OH JESUS CHRIST. OH FUCK I’M GONNA PUKE. Whoever created this horrible monstrosity has a special place in Super Hell for him. This picture is printed in the name of education, so blame your professor for this.

marinara, and the meaty, crispy remnant of despair. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything quite as ghastly.”

The Hot Pockets weren’t the only victims in this horrible act. Kvelertak’s wife of 10 years, Katinka, who came upon the Centipede was also deeply affected: “I’ve known Sven for over 15 years. He seemed like such a sweet man. He told me he loved me. I believed him. My life is crashing down before my eyes.” Katinka wiped her eyes and was comforted by a loved one. She mustered her courage and continued, “All of a sudden he started coming home with sauce stained scrubs and scalpels. I didn’t think much

of it since he is a scientist, but I had no idea of the horrible creation he was concocting. Until one day, I opened the freezer… and there it was. I think he was planning to… eat it. Thank God I found it before he got to it. I regret nothing.”

Kvelertak is currently awaiting trial in prison. When asked for a comment, he simply stated, “People said Galileo was crazy when he said the Earth revolved around the sun. I now accept my fate as a martyr for the furthering of microwave snack research. I did what no one was willing to do. One day a hungry teenager will understand the importance of my work. See you in hell.”

INSIDE

Scientific Breakthrough: AntiPoosperant

Environment Saving Technique: Flush Everything Down Toilet

Local science guy Benjamin Thorn may have just changed the way we live. Building on the concept of antiperspirant stopping sweat, Thorn’s invention stops a person from defecating. Thorn says the idea came to him last summer, when his “butt was particularly sweaty.”

Local religious sects, however, have denounced Thorn’s invention. “God meant for sweat to come out of pores,” said Leviticus Stewart, a priest at St. Matthew’s Church, “and God certainly meant for feces to come out anuses. AntiPoosperant keeps you from pooping. God wants you to poop.” Experts predict Anti-Poospirant to become a billion-dollar invention. page PU5

With today’s general world space being used for evil, some may say our planet is going down the toilet.

Well fear not, because we at the Grunion Idea Farm/ Fish Market have a solution for the planet: flush it, all of it. But only in small bits, that’s the key. See, instead of throwing your important monies, documents, evidence of extramarital affairs, and tasty feasts in the trash ready for the landfill, flushing everything bit-by-bit will spread daily refuse out evenly and less compacted.

This is the future! Even scholarly friend of the Grunion Al Gore was quoted, “It’s the greatest idea since Chef Guy Fieri.” page T2

Science Sez: Girls Breathe With They Boobs page SS2